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Whats that? (Charlotte King)

TW: su!cide, SH, panic attack

Dont ignore the warnings!!

St. Ambrose is my favourite place on the planet. I love everything about it; The patients, the Starbucks, and the doctors, especially Charlotte King.

Charlotte and I have been close friends since I started working under her a few months ago. We go to the bar on Fridays and pick people that the other would hate and pretend they would make a cute couple. I always pick an elderly man in the corner, she always picks a frat boy whos using a fake ID. It entertains us for hours until eventually we drag ourselves back to her apartment and I sleep on the couch.

'Good morning.' I groan one Saturday. 'Hi.' Charlotte calls from the kitchen. 'Are we busy today?' I stand up and hobble over to where shes sitting at the island. I sit cross legged on the island and she frowns. 'Thats where I eat!' I slide my legs down so they dangle off the edge. 'Happy?' I offer. She doesnt smile but seems less mad, so I dont move.

'You know what? We've known each other four months and I have never seen you in short sleeves. Its always sunny here!' Charlotte says. I pull my sleeves further down so only my fingertips are showing. 'I just run cold I guess.' I lie. 'Oh, Y/n. Im sorry. I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable. Did something happen to you?' She asks gently.

'I had a problem, years ago.' I explain. 'I dont want to go into too many details, but I got help and Im okay now. I just dont like people seeing them.' I make eye contact with Charlotte and she looks worried. 'Alright. If anything happens Im always here, okay?' I nod.

Three years before
I sit down in front of Dr. Monica Jackson. She smiles softly, obviously trying to make me feel comfortable, hut I only feel ashamed and want to go home. She asks me a few questions which I answer briefly and then gives me a rubber band.

'Anytime you feel those urges, snap this against your wrist until it goes away.'

I did that for 2 years until it got less and less frequent, and I finally took the band off for good.

Present time
I go into work on Monday excited and happy. I sit with Charlotte in her office for a couple of hours, going over cases. Im signing a form for a clinical trial when Im paged to the emergency room.

'Monica Jackson, aged 43. Carbon Monoxide poisoning. Suspected suicide.' I step away from the patient as Charlotte rushes her into the emergency room. 'Y/n, what are you doing? Come on!' She beckons me forward but I shake my head and run in the other direction.

I sprint up 4 flights of stairs and lock myself in a storage closet, scrambling for anything that could work. I find a suture kit easily enough and plunge it into my skin, barely thinking as the blood pours out.

When its enough, when Im tired and afraid someones going to knock on the door, I sit on the ground and stop the bleeding before putting plasters over the wounds. Then I pull my sleeves down, wipe my eyes and walk back downstairs.

'Y/n, what the hell was that?' Charlotte scolds me. 'You ran away from a dying patient! I cant believe you right now, how could you-' She begins to ramble so I cut her off. 'That was my therapist. When I got help, it was from her. She have me this stupid rubber band. She told me that it would help with the « urges » and then she goes and kills herself! Everything she taught me was a lie, and I- I cant. I cant breath.' I sink onto the floor and Charlotte comes down with me.

Choking for breath between sobs, Im barely able to focus as Charlotte tries to calm me down. 'Youre okay. Everything is fine. Can I touch you?' She asks and I shake my head furiously. 'Okay.' She steps back and I see her call over a nurse. 'Shes going to help you, alright?' The nurse helps me up and Charlotte follows us closely behind while Im brought to a private room.

I sit on the bed for two hours trying to stop the tears and calm down. Eventually Ive stopped shaking enough to look at Charlotte. 'Thank you.' I whisper. She walks over from her place at the wall and sits next to me. 'Are you okay? Can I touch you?' I nod and she wraps her arms around me.

On Wednesday Im back in work. I try to act like everythings normal, but St. Ambrose feels dull now, like its pretending to be what it first was. Charlotte greets me at the door and walks me into the hospital. She pretends its to be friendly, but we both know shes doing it so less people stare.

We walk into her office and I take my usual place across from her at the desk. I begin to read through cases, as usual, but Charlotte stops me. 'Whats that?' She asks. I look down at my arm to where shes staring. A tiny part of the plaster is showing. 'Nothing.' I respond, hastily pulling my sleeve down. 'Y/n.' Charlotte says softly.

'Its nothing!' I reiterate, but she gently pulls my sleeve up anyway, and I cant stop her. She pulls the plaster off and I wince.

'Y/n,' She whispers, looking at the scabs. 'Its fine, its from ages ago, it just reopened yesterday.' I lie.

'How long ago?' Charlotte asks. 'Ages ago.' I say again. 'How long.' She demands.

'Monday.' I say in a tiny whisper. 'Im so sorry. I didnt realise-' She begins. 'Its not your fault. You couldnt have known.' I interrupt her. 'Im sorry you felt that way, and Im sorry that you didnt feel like you could tell me. I wont get mad, Y/n. Im here to help you.' Charlotte continues.

'I wasnt thinking, Char. I saw her and it just sent me back to when everything started. I felt like I had to. I didnt feel anything until I saw her. She was a trigger.' I explain. 'You mentioned a rubber band. Did that work for you?' She asks. 'Yeah, I guess. It took a while though.' I respond honestly. 'Alright, well you should try that again if it worked. If it takes three months or three years, Ill be here, okay? Here.' She hands me a band from her drawer and I put it on my wrist. 'If that doesnt work, call me. No matter what time it is, dont think about that. Just call me, and Ill be there. Do you understand?' She asks and I nod. 'Thank you.'