Severus and the Doctor

The Doctor

Deep breath, she told herself. The world is fine. Remember your bearings. It's fine. It's fine. Even if it doesn't feel fine...It is.

"Doctor Breathwaite, do you have a minute?" asked one of the interns, following her down the hallway of the county hospital.

Breaking out of her brain fog, Eve sighed, the four medical charts in her hands screaming for her attention.

"Sure" she turned and focused on the harried intern who shifted from side to side uneasily

"I was wondering if you could help me with my suturing technique?"

"No. You should have learned that in class. If you haven't mastered it after six months on rotation you are hopeless. God, why do they always pick me?" she thought mercilessly

"Sure. I have five minutes before these reports. Come on" she spoke kindly, opposite of the voice in her head and ushered the young woman into the small office that she shared with another doctor on the floor

Today wasn't horrible. The gushing blood hadn't triggered her today like before. The sounds hadn't come back to her, the wounded screams and the bullets raining down like hail. No, today was fine. A few stitches to sew, an impacted bowel, and garden variety stomach bugs. She was due a day like today and her coworkers knew it. Not one for excessive chatter, she moved through her patients skillfully and with detail. She refused to call attention to herself, it was the mark of a good medic, a good soldier.

Her knee ached at the memory, the stray bullet from her last rescue mission tore through her skin, destroying part of the joint. It only ached after climbing too many stairs and today the elevator was out of order. Taking a deep breath, she changed into a different outfit, bagging the clothes she wore during her shift to wash, and walked into the humid summer air.

Hank would be worried, it was nearly eleven. She smiled at the thought of his burly physique twisting his fingers in nervousness at her tardiness. Hank was a good man, a good father, a good friend. He gave her accolades and beamed with pride.

Not like her father. The general. Who only offered criticism, and the advice to be successful or die trying. He had scoffed at her medical discharge and moved onto her brother, who was on the fast track to become a staff sergeant.

Sighing deeply, she pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the tavern style pub. The regulars around the bar nodded at her, knowing she held their secrets and wouldn't ever tell: pumped stomach, overdosed teenagers, and unplanned pregnancies.

It was a strange kind of solitude.

Sev already placed a scotch and soda at her seat before she reached it. He was a good bartender, much better than the last guy, Ricky. Ricky was a show off, a blowhard, a man who wanted to hear himself talk. He eventually left when a job working at the local casino opened up. Good riddance.

But Sev was calm. Quiet. Listened to people when they talked and spoke sage words that sounded like he was giving more information than he actually did. He moved stealthily and his eyes roamed the bar continually, he didn't miss a thing. He remembered details. His drinks were precise. Nothing remarkable about his appearance, except the way he held himself. Tall, proud, and sharp.

He thought he had a secret but she knew a spy when she saw one. After having spent her life around top ranking military officials, the best academic schools and foreign dignitaries, she had the skill to sniff out a professional liar like a bloodhound goes for bodies.

He only confirmed her thoughts when he sidestepped her question. She knew he would do that. But now he was off balance. Now she planted a seed of doubt in his mind about how strong his cover truly was and if anyone else could tell. Relationships were nothing but psychological mind games.