Midnight River

Nicotine

Gemma's pov
Song inspo glass house by mgk

I was on, what, my third cigarette? It wasn't something I did often, I wasn't addicted but I kept a spare pack in my office for days like this.

Dark days.

It was early spring so still a bit nippy outside, and the cloudy sky looked like it could open up and pour down on me at any point but I didn't care. I needed a breather.

I often climbed to the roof of the medical building on base, it was the one place where I could get away from anyone else and not be bothered. I still had my phone on me, in case any emergencies arrived but after getting out of a seven hour surgery where the patient didn't survive, I had a feeling no one would call. There were other doctors available if need be.

I sat with my back against the short ledge, my arm draping over it, flicking the ash to the ground below when needed.

Someone could have easily spotted me from the ground, but I didn't care about that either.

I'd failed enough in my few years as a surgeon that the feeling wasn't unfamiliar. I wouldn't shed any tears and I'd already screamed fuck until my lungs ached when I first climbed to the roof.

Sometimes I questioned if this was what I was supposed to be doing. Sure I had saved lives, more than I lost but it didn't make it hurt any less.

I was their last chance, and even I couldn't save them. It made me feel useless.

Even if I wanted to quit I knew I spent way too much time and money to be in the career I was in now, and there was no way I was joining the military even if my life revolved around it.

I was mid drag when I heard the door to the roof click open and a moment later a man appeared out of it, looking around before his eyes found me.

He looked familiar, not many had the type of hairstyle he sported but he was also better looking than most. Still no name came to mind, I tried to distance myself from all of the soldiers unless I was their doctor. And even then, after that, that's all I allowed myself to ever be.

"So, the hand belongs to you?" He asked in a curious tone, his Scottish accent thick.

I glanced over at my hand that dangled over the ledge, so someone had spotted me.

I moved to stand, expecting him to tell me I couldn't be there.

"I won't tell if you've got one to spare." He said then, stopping me as he moved over to sit beside me.

I eyed him for a moment before pulling the pack from my jacket pocket and passing it to him.

The man placed it between his lips before leaning closer so I could light it for him and I noticed the scar on his chin.

"You look familiar?" He said as a question and I watched him for a minute more. It took a moment before I could remember where I saw him before too.

"You're in 141. Mactavish?" I asked, unsure if I'd gotten it right.

"Soap, but you can call me John." He said, I'd stick with Soap even if it was an interesting codename.

"I was the doctor for your lieutenant. Cadaver?" I explained remembering when she'd been flown in, a bullet lodged in her stomach. She had been one of the ones I was able to save, even if it had been close.

Soap looked at me then, as if trying to remember me. It didn't help I'd already changed out of my scrubs, having been given the go ahead to go off duty unless they needed me.

"Dr. Harlow, is it?" He asked as he held out his hand that didn't hold the cigarette.

Really, a handshake?

"Gemma is fine." I said as I placed my hand in his and shook it, his hands were unsurprisingly rough. My friends called me Gem but it wasn't like I had many of those.

"I know it's been a bit but thank you, for saving Senna." His words held meaning, but I gave him a shrug.

"Another day in the office."

"You're american?" John asked then, my accent giving it away. Most of the other nurses and doctors were used to it by now but when people first met me it usually caught them by surprise. An American working in the SAS.

I gave a nod, taking one last drag before outing the butt on the roof.

"What're you doing up here?" Damn he had a lot of questions.

"Breathing." I answered honestly as I looked up to the sky. As much as I wanted to be alone, it wasn't absolutely horrible having a stranger as a distraction.

"Rough day?" He asked and I could feel his eyes on me. When I moved to meet his gaze I noticed that his eyes were a deep blue with hints of green. One of my own eyes was a deep grayish blue while the others light brown.

After thirty years of living, people asking about my heterochromia was something I was bored of, sometimes I wished my eyes were less unique, like my straight black hair that I had tied up into a messy bun.

"Another day in the office." I repeated as my answer. He'd probably understand, he witnesses people die in action, while I was just there for them if they even made it home.

John gave a knowing nod, finishing the cigarette I'd given him.

"You?" I asked, not wanting to be the topic of the conversation.

"Eh, it's good to be home but I'll be on the bench for a little while." He explained with a shrug and this made me curious. 141 wasn't a task force that just easily idled by, they always seemed to be on the move.

"Why's that?" Why did I care? Wasn't I the one just wishing he'd stop asking questions? It was just a distraction, which was something I needed.

"Took a nasty one, but I'll be alright and ready to go in a few weeks." His hand moved to cover the front of his shoulder, with his shirt and hoodie on I couldn't tell what he was talking about but I was assuming he'd been shot. It wasn't a surprise in his line of work.

I'd ask what happened but I knew the answer; classified.

I felt a drop of rain hit my face then, a few moments later another then soon enough the sky opened up and it was a straight downpour.

Soap was up on his feet before me, holding out his hand to help me up. For whatever reason he held onto my hand even once I was ony feet, and led me back to the door to the stairs.

Once we were inside the stairway and the door closed behind us I pulled my hand from his. I don't think he noticed he had held onto his because one I pulled away he gave a sheepish smile and muttered a sorry before wiping his hand over his mohawk to rid it of any rain that he could.

"What are you doing now?" I asked, surprised at myself. I had considered going home but I wasn't exactly in the mood to be alone now that I found it was so easy not to think about the day I had when I was talking with John. Even if it had only been talk of nothing. I needed that.

"Uh, I don't really have anything planned, why?" He seemed like I caught him off guard. I had done the same to myself.

"You want to grab a drink?" I said as I move to let my hair down so I could shake the rain drops from it.

"I could go for a scotch." He said after thinking about it for a moment. Surprise surprise.

"You'll have to drive, I brought the bike today." I muttered, knowing I should have checked the weather first but as soon as it warmed up I took the chance to drive that rather than my car.

"You have a motorcycle?" John asked then, raising a brow at me as I started down the stairs ahead of him.

"Not what you were expecting?" I called back.

He muttered something but I didn't quite catch what it was.

Probably for the best.

----notes
While we wait for book 3 of ghost and senna I'm super excited to start this new journey with my fellow Johnny lovers 💜💜💜

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