Chapter Text
Elle is sat behind reception typing up a pet insurance report, when Charlie arrives at the veterinary surgery the following morning. He's balancing two boxes in his arms as he enters, calling out a warm “good morning” to his good friend and colleague. Elle watches him closely, eyebrow raised in suspicion, as he places the boxes on the desk and removes his winter coat.
"Something's different Charlie? What is it?" she asks, head tilted to the side, eyes curious.
"Wot?"
"Your voice is more sing-songy than usual this morning. And you have a little glow in your eyes. A spark. Oh, I've missed your spark Charlie! Why are you different today than yesterday?"
Oh.
Charlie's not sure what to say. Elle is one of his oldest and dearest friends and he could count on one hand the things she doesn't know about his life, but for some reason he feels reluctant to talk to her about what happened with Nick the day before. Like he doesn't want to break Nick's confidence. Which is stupid as he won't be seeing the man again, and Elle's never even met him. But still... Maybe he's holding out hope that Nick will come back. That he felt a connection too. That this is the beginning of an actual friendship. Relationship? Friendship.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Elle! Everything is the same this morning as it was yesterday morning!" Except I met an adorable man. An adorable, hardworking, sweet, broken man and I can't stop thinking about fixing him. "Except I'm now a master baker. I'm thinking about applying for the next series of Great British Bake Off actually."
Charlie removes the lid from the top box on Elle's desk to reveal an abomination of a cake. It's shaped like a wonky upside-down cock and balls, covered with dark fluffy buttercream icing, spattered with spots of brown royal icing and a pair of massive edible eyes sitting mid-shaft. There's an unfortunate pink circle of icing right at the tip of the dick. All of which are slowly sliding to the left of the cake as it has inexplicably risen much higher at the right side than the left. A disturbingly lumpy looking filling oozes out of the edges. Elle stands to get a good look at the cake, wincing as she does.
"Voila!"
"Erm… Charlie darling. It's… It's…"
"The best damn doggy cake you've ever seen? Yes, yes I know! Herbert is going to lose his bunny mind when he sees this!" Charlie giggles as Elle looks down at it with thinly veiled horror.
"I love you and I'm proud of your most recent attempt at creativity. I absolutely will be taking pictures of it to send to all our friends, maybe even to tweet to Paul Hollywood himself. But I do not want to put it in my mouth."
"I know. That's why the other box is full of croissants from the bakery. They loved my cake by the way Elle. They were very impressed."
"Of course they were. Croissants! You're so thoughtful Charlie. So good to everyone!" She smiles warmly, reaching over the desk to peck a kiss on his cheek. Charlie immediately thinks back to Nick's visit yesterday, hoping he was good to him too. Good enough for Nick to come back and reach out for Charlie's support. Charlie would say yes if he did. He would be his friend and help him manage his anxiety. He would swallow his silly little crush and invite Nick into his plain, quiet life, hoping that as Nick gets stronger he might just bring a little joy into Charlie's life in return. It's not going to happen, of course. But Charlie can daydream.
"Now, Charlie darling, go and get set up for Mrs Butterfield and Ruby the sneezing cat. They'll be here in ten minutes."
********
Nick is on a late shift that afternoon. He hates late shifts. He has to spend the morning at home, the prospect of work looming over him like an ominous cloud he can't escape. His stress levels building until they're worse than when he's on a full day shift, because he's got so much more time to get himself worked up. Plus, he knows he'll be taking over a patient's care mid-shift so everything will have been done in the way the early staff prefers it, which is not necessarily the way he prefers it. He'll likely have to rearrange his bedside drawers, remake all his infusions so he trusts what's in them is definitely correct, reassess the patient and plan the afternoon care to be done the way he feels fit; which is usually more proactive than other staff. So he'll have to explain the new plan to the patient's family... Ugh. Late shifts.
His stress levels peak as he parks his car in the hospital car park. He usually sets off far too early, incase of any traffic or roadworks, arriving around twenty minutes early or so. He uses these twenty minutes to sit in his car in silent fear, trying to calm his nerves before walking into the unit at the last possible minute. Today is no exception. Or perhaps it is. Because as he sits in his fear today, his mind wanders to Herbert's sweet little twitchy nose and wriggly bottom and he feels a little calmer. He remembers the feeling of his soft, warm fur beneath his fingers, and feels safer. It crosses Nick's mind that Charlie's curls might feel just as soft as Herbert's fur beneath his fingers.
Charlie's reassuring smile springs to his mind too, warming his spirit in a way he hasn't felt for a long time. Maybe they could have been friends in another life, if he hadn't spilled his guts out to him. Maybe they could have even been more. He is cute. With those bewitching eyes and those heavenly dimples.
Maybe Nick should send flowers. Just to say thank you for listening. For making him feel safe. That's fine, right? To say thank you? As a friend? And if they end up being friends, that's great. Lord knows he needs a friend. But what does Nick have to offer in the way of friendship? He's being silly. Why would a warm, successful man like Charlie want to be friends with an isolated, struggling mess of a man like him? He's probably got loads of mates. He'll send the thank you flowers, but then leave the poor man alone.
Nick Googles the local florist on his phone and orders some flowers to be delivered to the veterinary surgery the next day. He selects the nicest, largest bouquet available, to show he really is grateful. He overthinks the wording of the card until he gives himself a headache and types up a quick few sentences, before taking a deep breath and heading into work.
********
The following afternoon Charlie is just finishing up with Eric the guinea pig and his unfortunate lump - turns out it's Erica, and she's pregnant, quite the shock for her grown ups, quite the delight for her children - when he hears the ding of the reception bell. He excuses himself to answer the desk himself, because Elle has gone to collect some emergency animal food from the pet shop as their supplier of five years has suddenly seemingly forgotten about them.
"Hi mate. Flower delivery for Charlie? Under special instructions it says 'Look for the cute vet with the curly hair and blue eyes, don't read that bit out though'. You got any cute vets here?"
"Oh. Erm. Just me..." Charlie blushes profusely and makes a mental note to thank the idiot accounts manager at Vets R Us for creating a diversion so Elle is not here for this moment. Her reaction to this does not bear thinking about.
"Oh. Right you are, mate," laughs the delivery man with a grin. "Enjoy!"
He hands an obscenely large bouquet of flowers to Charlie and walks back to the door, before turning round in a panic, "Shit, don't tell the florist that I read the delivery note. I just assumed Charlie was a Charlotte… Shit!" The delivery man shakes his head, clearly annoyed with himself. Charlie smiles, mimes locking his lips and winks. The driver smiles back and leaves to carry on with his deliveries. Charlie excitedly grabs the note from the midst of the sweet smelling flowers. Could it be? Yes!!
Charlie covers his mouth with his hand to suppress the teenage squeal threatening to escape his lips at the knowledge that, not only may Nick not be as straight as he would appear, but that he thinks Charlie is cute. Cute! Wait, physically cute? Or just cute like sweet or kind? He's brought back to Earth by surprisingly loud grumpy squeaks of the guinea-mother-to-be and rushes back to assist the family in returning her to the carry case from whence she came. He stashes the flowers in the animal recovery room as he passes, pointing excitedly to the flowers to show Herbert, plucking a rose from the bouquet and posting it through the bars to the bunny as he does so. "Herbert, look what Nick sent us!"
Charlie wants to actively reach out to Nick now. To be friends. Because he's not stopped thinking about him since they met two days ago. Because he's never received flowers before and it makes him fizz with an excited energy that he's not felt in a long time. Because yes, Charlie's generally happy enough – nice home, successful business, movie night with his friends once a week. But does he feel fulfilled in life? Like he has a passion in life? No, not really. Or he wouldn't pursue all these various hobbies that always amount to nothing. He wouldn't feel like he's missing something. Like there's a quiet emptiness at the end of each day. Like there's a space for someone. Someone who needs him. Maybe Nick?
A little voice in the back of his mind reminds him that the message in Nick's card was not romantic. It was a friendly thank you for Charlie's support. The voice reminds him that even if Nick does have real romantic feelings towards Charlie, which is doubtful at best, he is currently in no position to start dating with his anxiety being as it is. The voice questions if being friends with Nick is a good idea, or if it will inevitably lead to pain when Nick feels more balanced and doesn't need Charlie anymore. The voice suggests that maybe he just wants to fix the cute boy to have him notice him and that is not healthy. The voice sounds suspiciously like his cynical friend, Tao. He rolls his eyes at the voice and tells it to fuck off. He's a grown adult, not a teenager. He can make a new friend if he wants.
He hears the familiar ding of the door. Elle must be back with the supplies. He takes a moment to be grateful that one of his closest friends agreed to work with him. To have someone he can truly rely on in life and in business is such a blessing. He waves the excited children goodbye, pats the aghast adults on the back as they leave, and heads out to reception to help Elle with the stock. He sees boxes by the door. But no Elle.
Charlie freezes, hearing Elle approach from behind, reading the flower card in a suspicious voice, "Thank you for your kindness, thank you for the tea, thank you for the snuggles. Nick."
He turns around with a startled, guilty expression on his face. Busted. He meets her stern, questioning gaze.
"Care to explain, Charlie?"
🚑 ********🚑
The next few days pass by in a blur for Nick. His late shift yesterday is followed by a thirteen hour shift today. Yesterday was hard. He was assigned a young lad who went dune buggy racing without the proper safety equipment on his first lads holiday abroad. He had been confirmed brain stem dead and flown back to the UK on life support so that he could donate his organs and have his end of life cares provided here at home. Nick was devastated by his story as he waited by the helipad to receive him.
Nick felt incredibly apprehensive about the afternoon he would have with the boy. He could feel his heart rate quickening, his breathing pattern worsening, his palms sweating. He squeezed his eyes tightly and conjured up images of Herbert in his mind. The feel of Herbert's fur. The twitch of his nose. The tickle of his whiskers. It helped. It grounded him enough to transfer the boy safely from the helicopter to the ICU.
Nick was incredibly busy with the boy once settled in his room, assisting the medical team to change all his invasive lines and tubes for NHS approved products, swapping out all his infusions for new ones and assisting in completing their own brain stem tests. The boy had light, shoulder length hair that looked like it hadn't been combed for weeks. It broke Nick's heart. Nick couldn't let the boy's mum see him like that so he stayed late to detangle his hair and make him more presentable for his mum. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes and he found himself thinking about Charlie's hair instead. Picturing the soft looking curls and the way they framed the man's beautiful face, ending at his reassuring smile. It helped to still Nick's burdened mind.
The next day is harder still. He pokes his head in to see the boy from the day before but the room is empty and cold. He had been for his organ harvest during the night and is now down in 'Rose Cottage' aka the morgue. Referred to as that as not to upset any visitors that may overhear them asking the porters to transfer a body down there. There's a house named Rose Cottage just beside the entrance to the local park where he used to walk to clear his mind sometimes. He's stopped going now as walking past Rose Cottage makes him shudder and feel nauseous.
He has a new patient today. A woman, around his mum's age, named Sarah. She is extremely unstable and they have to cardiovert her several times throughout the morning, desperately trying, but ultimately failing, to keep her alive. Thinking about Herbert's fluffy loveliness doesn't help as he prepares her for viewing with shaking hands. Thinking about Charlie's warm smile doesn't help when he picks up the telephone to call her next of kin again, her son, to ask him to come into the hospital. He's tried several times to contact him, with no success. He leaves a message. "Hi, this is Nick from ICU. Could you please make your way here to visit Sarah? Drive safely. I'll see you soon and update you on her condition when you're here. Thank you."
He has to break the news of her death to her son when he arrives that afternoon. He looks about Nick's age, in his late twenties, although right now he looks like a child in an adult's body. Breaking the news to him is more painful than usual as the situation makes him ache for his own Sarah, his own mother. He needs to visit her. To open up to her. To be held by her. But lately he hasn't wanted to worry her, so he's been keeping his mounting anxieties hidden. When they had become harder to hide behind shoulder shrugs and fake smiles, he had just physically hidden from her, blaming his shifts as the reason he hadn't been going round to see her as often as usual.
Nick is gentle and kind with his words and tone as he informs Sarah's son of what happened to his mum. He does not take it well. His grief is immediate and loud. He shakes in anger and Nick feels intimidated. Yes Nick is large, but he's exhausted and overwhelmed and in no position to protect himself should this become physical. He tries to de-escalate the situation but he can't get through to the man – he's just unexpectedly lost his mother and he can't process it. It's not his fault. Nick knows he has to be professional. He can't face a disciplinary hearing for assault, even if he is just defending himself. So he doesn't hold the man back. He doesn't push him away, even though it's clear what's about to happen. The man leaps to his feet and slams Nick into the wall as he stands, denial and anger raging through his veins.
"You're a liar! You're a fucking bastard liar! Mum's fine. She's fine. She's at home making a cup of tea after taking the dogs for a walk. You're an incompetent piece of shit who's got the wrong Sarah and you know it. Just fucking tell me you've got it wrong! It's not her!"
He loosens his grip on the collar of Nick's scrubs as other staff run into the 'bad news room' at the commotion. Nick tells them all that he's okay. He doesn't want the man to be kicked out before he can see his mum. He needs to see her to accept the news. Nick suggests they go to see Sarah and the man nods silently. He walks him to her room and the man's legs buckle beneath him at the sight of his mum, laid still in the bed. He stumbles over to her and his mouth falls open in a silent scream. He pounds her chest with his fists. "Mum, don't leave me! Mum! Mummy!"
🚑 ********🚑
Nick feels the room start to spin around him. The air is hot, it's choking him. He reaches out for something to grip on to, to keep him upright but there's nothing. Bunny, bunny, bunny. He needs to picture Herbert but he can't grasp the image. Smile, smile, smile. He needs to think of Charlie's smile but he can't reach it. He needs the real thing. He needs Herbert. He needs Charlie. He needs them now or he fears he may never be able to breathe again.
Nick backs out of the room and stumbles to his matron's office, not bothering to knock. Richard is sat at his desk, headphones on, participating in a Zoom meeting with the chief nurse and the clinical director about the unit's budget. He looks up at Nick as he barrels in, starting at the unexpected interruption.
"Richard, I have to leave. I'm sorry. I can't be here. I…"
Richard looks completely baffled. But he trusts Nick. He is his most reliable, hardworking, skilled nurse. If Nick says he can't be here then Richard will accept that he can't be here. He simply nods and returns to his screen.
Nick jumps into one of the many waiting taxis outside the main hospital doors, asking to be taken to the vets in a trembling voice. Large raindrops fall onto the car, and Nick uses the swish of the windscreen wipers as a metronome to breathe with. He pays the driver with a shaky sweep of his phone against the contactless card reader and exits the vehicle.
He stands in front of the surgery, suddenly doubting himself. He feels the rain seeping into his scrubs as he shakes and gasps for breath. What is he doing here? It's not okay for him to be here again. To expect care and compassion on demand from a busy stranger and his adorable furry friend. Oh god, what if Herbert isn't even Charlie's bunny? What if he was just there for treatment? What if his owners have collected him already? What if Charlie isn't even working today? Nick feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into another panic attack, as he gets wetter and wetter in the rain. He can't turn back, he doesn't have anyone to turn back to. He can't walk into there, it's too much to ask. So he just stands there in the street – cold, broken and alone.
