Perseverance (The Resident FF) by Frances51163

CHAPTER FIVE: Flashback

The next day, despite his friends' concern, Conrad was back at work acting as if nothing unusual had happened. Devon had been keeping a close eye on his Mentor but he had been rebuffed when he suggested he go home early. Conrad had pointed out he had work to do and informed the other man to leave him alone. The only consolation for Devon was that the eye problem, whatever it was, seemed to have passed and the sunglasses were nowhere to be seen.

Conrad had phoned Fran and informed her about Andy. She took the news surprisingly well, seeming to have half expected it. Conrad had not quizzed her instead opting to deal with the transfer of the body to New York. The fresh widow had simply said she needed some time to think about the matter. Conrad had told her to ring him when she had made a decision.

The day was busy as usual and Conrad found little time to take a break. He had just walked out into a corridor, head down reading a patients' Chart, when a familiar voice greeted him from behind.

"Conrad!" Mike Gibson walked quickly to catch up with his quarry for he had been trying to track the man down all morning.
"Mike," the Resident greeted, cursing his luck for he had been avoiding the Psychiatrist all day.
"Was wondering how you're doing." Gibson got right to the point.
"I'm grand," Conrad kept walking but the older man stayed at his side.
"You saw something awful the other night."
"Doc I work in a hospital. I'm used to seeing awful things," Conrad dismissed as they reached the Nurses Station and he put the Chart away.
"Not in relation to your friends."
"Not the first time I've seen ..," Conrad stopped himself, he was not getting into this!
"Seen what?" Gibson probed knowingly.
"Nothing Doc," Conrad glanced at his watch, "I'v gotta go," he walked away before the other man had a chance to respond.

Well I can be just as stubborn Gibson thought to himself as he headed up to the CEOs' office. Claire Thorpe was a reasonable lady and he knew she would want to ensure the young man was looked after.

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In the mercifully empty dark on call room Conrad sat down on the bottom bunk bed and leant forward resting his arms on his knees as images, unbidden, came to life. Images of blood and guts, arms and limbs - the ruins of his friends. He squeezed his eyes shut as the heat of the midday sun beat down on him. For some reason his legs wouldn't move and then he realized there was something on top of his lower body, pinning him down. The whirring of low helicopters announced the arrival of the much needed medivac team but it was already too late - his friends were beyond help. He squinted as the rotating blades overhead caused the sand around him to blow around and after a time he saw shapes emerge out of the man made dust storm. He opened his mouth to tell the two men that knelt down on either side, one placing a stethoscope on his chest, that it was too late but all of a sudden he found he was in a darkened room. He was sitting on the floor, his knees hugged to his chest. He blinked through blurry vision and to his dismay realised he was pressed against the wall in the on call room. He tried to calm his breathing down and it was then he realized he had an audience. Of all the times to have a flashback he had to have one in front of Devon.

"How are you doing Conrad?" Devon asked as he put away his stethoscope after checking his friends' breathing.
"How long have you been here?" Conrad ignored the question and put up a hand.
"Long enough," the first year student helped his friend up.
"Anybody else come in?"
"No. I locked the door," Devon watched the other man carefully, "you should take a few days off Conrad."
"No need," the shaken man walked over to the door unlocking it without looking at his friend.
"Maybe you should talk to someone."
"Don't need to. Got work to do."

Devon watched his friend walk out sighing heavily. He was no fool. He had noticed Conrad hadn't once looked him in the eye, as if he was embarrassed. He knew his Mentor had served in Afghanistan so when he had walked in and found him pressed up against the wall shaking with sweat rolling down his face he knew immediately he was having a flashback. Devon knew a bit about flashbacks, thanks to an article Priya had done in relation to PTSD. He knew that flashbacks were different to memories in that a person actually relived an event just as they had lived through it the first time, with the accompanying trauma. He truly wanted to help the other man but figured he would never open up to him. He resolved to read Priyas' article again and to do some research so he had a better understanding of what his friend was going through.

Out in the corridor Conrad walked over to a water dispenser and poured some water into a cup. As he walked away he drank most of the liquid then poured the remainder into a cupped hand and promptly poured it over his face, ignoring the funny looks he got. He chastised himself angrily. He should have known he would have a flashback after Andy but one of the facets of PTSD was that flashbacks could be caused by anything at all. Experiencing another trauma could trigger a flashback to the initial event but something as trivial as a smell or taste could also trigger one. Basically Conrad felt like he was walking around with a grenade in his brain just waiting to go off at any time. Wouldn't Gibson love to hear that!

The Psychiatrist had spoken to Claire and explained his concern for his young friend. He made sure that she knew he was not in anyway suggesting Conrad was not fit for duty. She had pointed out that after the suicide of his friend he was bound to be upset. Gibson had readily agreed but said there would be no harm in taking a preemptive measure just to be on the safe side. When Claire expressed hesitation the Psychiatrist had pointed out that many veterans did not get the help they needed once they were home. Claire said she was aware of that. After further deliberation she agreed she would speak to Conrad and make the offer of counselling available to him. She explained however that she could not force him to attend. Gibson had thanked her for her assistance. As he was leaving she asked him if he thought the Resident should see him or if she should speak to someone else on the team. Gibson had informed her that while his door would always be open the young man might feel more at ease with someone he did not work with so closely. Claire had accepted his advice and told him she would speak to the Resident the next day and let him know the outcome.

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Conrad was sitting on a bench outside getting some air when his mobile rang.
"Fran how are you."
"Ah I don't think it's sunk in yet. Listen I spoke to the boys and they think it might be best if we bury Andy in Atlanta. New York didn't have any good memories for him when ge got back stateside. What do you think?"
"It's up to ye. I'll help with whatever ye want."
"Tom and Max will be glad to see you."
"Didn't think they'd remember me. How old are they now?" Eighteen or nineteen?"
"Twenty-five and of course they remember you. Heck you used to play with them all the time."
"Yeah," Conrad recalled thinking back to lazy summer days spent playing in the large back garden of his friends' house.
"Well anyway we're flying in day after tomorrow. I'll contact you then."
"Have you accommodation sorted? If not I can arrange something."
"We're sorted thanks. Be good to see you I better go Tom is just after arriving."
"Okay talk then," Conrad hung up.

The next few days were going to be a nightmare but somehow he was going to have to get through them. He just hoped he could.

tbc