Fight This Together

Fight This Together Chapter 1

Dylan felt his forehead crease as he watched the curly haired nurse's hands shake as he connected a catheter to the middle-aged patient in cubicles.

"Lofty." The nurse raised his head, eyes wide as if he expected to be beaten. "Ask Robyn to takeover would you?" The doctor pushed past the nurse to examine the patient's head wounds again and couldn't ignore the strange pang in his stomach. This wasn't a one-off event. For all his social failings. Dylan could see that something was affecting his friend. Friend. Dylan chuckled to himself, only a few months earlier he had refused to work with the clumsy incompetent nurse. Dylan felt his stomach twist in shame, he could be so heartless.

Shaking his head, Dr Keogh returned himself to the present. Right, focus. Head, spine, clear. Good. Whenever his thoughts began to drift to Lofty, which had become an increasing occurrence, Dylan shook them off and returned his mind to what it did best. There was no point troubling himself with emotions, he would never be good enough at that. Not like Lofty. Ahh. Wrapping his stethoscope behind his neck Dylan left the cubicle and made his way towards the ambulance bay, ignoring beckons from Rita. He just needed some fresh air. To clear his mind. To think.

As he was met by a cold gust of January air Dylan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He made his way to the bench he liked to sit on, from this position he could see the whole ambulance bay. Holby, his life. Why did that thought fill Dylan with an intense loneliness? Again, he found his mind wandering back to the curly haired nurse. Trembling hands, lack of appetite, sleep disturbances (Lofty's heavy eyes gave that away). If he were a patient... No. Dylan couldn't think straight; it hurt him too much. Taking a deep breath he made his way back inside the ED.

Rita leaned forward, elbows on the desk, massaging her temples.

"I have had it up to here with him." She looked up at Dylan.

"Who?" Dylan rested his hands on his hips.

"That Lofty" Dylan felt his stomach twist and blood rise in his cheeks

"He only bloody went and had a panic attack treating an RTC patient in resus. And he's expecting a promotion? Gees." Dylan could see her mouth moving and eyes flashing but he felt numb, and could only hear the blood pulsing in his ears.

"Where is he now?"

"Who, Lofty? Staff room. And I'm not letting him out again. Dylan, where are you going?"

"Dylan you're needed in resus!" Connie's voice resonated, but the doctor ignored her and made a beeline for the staff room. All else can wait. I'm needed in the staff room too. His heart rate began to elevate, what could he do? He was useless with emotional matters... I'll just have to see him as a patient, Dylan decided, instead of- he could feel his stomach twist.

"Lofty..?" The curly haired nurse was curled in a corner of the staff room, face hidden, visibly shaking. At the sight of him Dylan couldn't hesitate but rushed over crouching beside him. He placed his hands on Lofty's upper arms and hushed him. Lofty raised his mop of curls and met Dylan's gaze with swollen red eyes. Dylan felt his insides contort as they pulled each other into an embrace. Dylan felt a strange sense of peace wash over him as he buried his head into Lofty's shoulder.

"I..i-it's just I-"

"Shh" Dylan hushed, hugging the nurse in closer

"I get so anxious s-sometimes I-"

"Lofty have you had any help for this?" Dylan whispered, his former fears of Lofty suffering from an anxiety disorder becoming a reality.

"No, I... I c-can usually keep it under c-control, it's just I-" voice trembling, Lofty pulled away from Dylan to meet his eyes. Such a beautiful mixture of green and brown, Dylan thought.

"D-Dylan, I-I asked Rita if I could work with you, it's, I"

He took a deep breath and the doctor's brow creased in worry

"You keep me calm, you, you make me feel safe.." Lofty whispered dropping his gaze to the floor where they both sat. Dylan could feel his heart swell with love and pity for the younger nurse. He couldn't remember feeling this way in a long time. He tentatively stroked a hand through Lofty's curls that he'd always been so fond of.

"I want to help you" Dylan soothed, and rested his forehead against Loftys.

They sat there together on the staff room floor for a long time, foreheads touching. Dylan could feel Lofty's breath on his cheek, slower now, calmer. He suddenly realized why it was that he'd noticed Lofty's anxiety symptoms: he knew how it felt. He knew how it felt to try to conceal a part of yourself that no one wants to see; that you are ashamed of; that's completely controlling you. Dylan had his OCD under much more control now, and it had really changed his life. In that moment Dylan vowed to do what ever it would take to help Lofty with his anxiety.

"Let's fight this together." He whispered.