being human fan art

Luckily the nearest kitchenette was just at the end of the hall. Nina escorted him there, Sally following at her heels. She kept trying to touch Mitchell’s back and arm, and even Nina felt the urge to slap her hands away. So not the time, she wanted to snap.

She knew she needed to stop snapping at people. She knew her reputation.

Old habits die hard.

Dana was in the kitchenette, pouring ketchup on her egg sandwich. She nearly dropped the bottle when she saw them.

“I’ll get George,” she said and ran from the room.

George? Nina wondered as she helped Mitchell into a chair.

As if he heard her thoughts, Mitchell mumbled, “Housemate.”

Wait…George. That George? Shit. Nina still couldn’t make sense of that guy. Their first disastrous meeting was her own fault and she’d admit that; she never should have snapped at him like that, never should have shit-talked his job and him for following orders from a doctor. She’d been having a shit day but it had nothing to do with him. George had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nina would have lost it at Jesus Christ himself that day.

The second time was George’s fault. She wondered if he’d been trying to get even with her. All that macho bravado, the sleazy pick-up lines. And yet he’d been so awkward with it, like a schoolboy being pushed into a dare he didn’t want. It had infuriated her; she’d felt like a fool for extending an olive branch when that was his reaction. She was sure he was making fun of her.

The third time they met, he was visiting one of her patients. He had no connection to her, but the poor old woman had told him she’d have no visitors, that she had no family left. So George promised to visit and actually followed through on it, much to Nina’s surprise.

He confused her. She didn’t like being unable to figure someone out like this.

But never mind that. She’d completely forgotten that Mitchell and George were friends. Why would she remember? They had nothing to do with her.

And it hardly mattered. What mattered was making sure her new impromptu patient was okay.

She wished she could dim the lights in here or even turn them off.

Nina got Mitchell into a recovery position, bent over, head between his knees. He was already taking deep, controlled breaths, plainly used to these dizzy spells.

Well, he would be, wouldn’t he? As far as she’d heard, he’d had these spells since before he started working here three years ago.

Sally was still hovering, still giving Mitchell that besotted look, more interested in staring than helping. Nina felt a stab of irritation.

“I’ve got him,” she said firmly. Sally gave her That Look, a look worn by women all over the world, no doubt. Somewhere between a pout and a scowl, not exactly sulky, but close to it. A look that screamed, But you know I like him.

Nina gave her a look in return. The look she gave lazy subordinates and argumentative patients. The Don’t Mess With Me stare. She’d perfected it when she was ten, she was quite proud of it.

Sally huffed and left. Nina poured Mitchell a glass of water, scowled at the fluorescent overhead lights (they were hardly helping!) and made him a cup of tea with three sugars. Anything she could think of to help the light-headedness.

She wished there was somewhere for him to lie down, but there were only plastic orange chairs in here, and she’d hardly make him lie on the floor unless she had to. Let’s just say it was obvious he hadn’t gotten to mop in here yet.

“Alright?” Nina asked, careful to keep her voice quiet. Mitchell gave her a thumbs up.

“This is so fuckin’ embarrassing,” he muttered. He took the glass of water first and Nina watched how his hands trembled, bracing herself to catch him if he fell again, or to catch the glass if he dropped it.

“Nah, what’s embarrassing is the guy in A&E with Lego up his arse,” Nina said with a grin.

Mitchell laughed, winced at the noise, and drank more of the water. Once the glass was empty, she pressed the tea into his hands. His eyes were open now and they looked dazed. He looked like he’d been hit on the head.

He almost looked too young to be working here. Which was a daft thought since they had students working here as cleaners. But there it was. Maybe it was the nurse in her, but she almost wanted to send him home.

If this dizzy spell didn’t pass soon, she might have to.

When Nina first saw Mitchell, she’d written him off. One look at that pretty face and grin, and she’d thought Troublemaker, and made a point of avoiding him, though she doubted he knew who she was at all. Only it turned out he generally kept to himself. He was popular and known to be friendly, but didn’t hang around any groups or go out, just stuck with George. He was flirted with constantly and she slowly found herself impressed by his patience, that he never told anyone to get out of his space. He didn’t snap and snarl like Nina would have.

Come to think of it…Hadn’t it been George to report Trevor Moss for grabbing Mitchell’s arse around Christmas? That was what the rumours said. The other nurses said Mitchell had mostly seemed taken aback and irritated, uncomfortable, but willing to ignore it. Laughed in Moss’s face in fact. And George, who Dana insisted was “a sweetie pie,” (as if!) flipped out and reported Moss for harassment. Moss had been behaving well ever since.

Nina hadn’t paid attention at the time. She wished she had now. Maybe then George wouldn’t confuse her so much.

“Did I spill the bucket?” Mitchell asked her, still sounding exhausted. He was still shivering.

“No,” Nina said. Mitchell nodded and immediately seemed to regret it, gagging slightly. He did the smart thing and bent over again, doing those controlled breaths.

“Have you had…” she gestured uncertainly. “This for long?”

“Ages,” Mitchell said, breathing in and out, in and out, deep and slow. “Years.”

She wanted to ask what he had. She didn’t dare. Even Nina knew when she was being too nosy. This was the first time they’d ever spoken, for God’s sake, it wouldn’t be like asking Melissa about her endo treatment. He’d have every right to tell her to fuck off.

It still took a lot of restraint to not blurt out her questions.

“Did you black out at all?” she asked instead. “Out in the hallway?”

“Think so,” Mitchell admitted, sounding reluctant. “I don’t remember falling.”

“Any spots in your vision now?”

“Nope.”

“Is the room spinning?”

“Not badly, but yeah, a bit.”

“Anything blurry?”

He sounded almost amused when he said, “Nah.”

She supposed he was used to being grilled about his symptoms. And she had to admit, her tone did sound bossy when she got like this. Nina Pickering, Nurse, Ward Sister. The Boss. Five feet one, and she could still make grown men cower. It was another skill she was proud of.

She was about to ask if there was anything else she could do to help (did he have anything he needed to take for this? Anything she should fetch from his locker? Did he need more water, more sugar in his tea? A damp, cold cloth? She needed to help) when she heard frantic footsteps approaching at a run. Squeak-squeak-squeak across the linoleum floor.

George Sands burst into the room, his glasses steamed up and askew; he looked like he’d sprinted all the way here. Chest heaving, cheeks flushed, eyes wide.

“Mitch!” He immediately rushed to Mitchell, stumbled, knelt in front of him and grabbed his friend’s shaking hands.

“I’m fine, Georgie-boy,” Mitchell said, managing a tired grin, eyes still dazed. “You know me, drama wherever I go.”

It seemed so blasé, but Nina was used to observing patients for even the slightest change. She saw how Mitchell immediately relaxed when George arrived. Still shivering, still too pale and limp, but totally at ease now.

George stared at him like he was trying to see into Mitchell’s head. It was like they’d both forgotten she was there. Perhaps another time and with other people, Nina might have felt insulted; she would have bristled, said something sarcastic and felt snubbed. Like she was being told she wasn’t good at her job, or she’d done something wrong. But even she could see it wasn’t that. They just…fit together, those two.

She knew Kaz was convinced they were dating. Looking at them now, Nina didn’t think so. There was nothing romantic about this. Then again, it somehow struck her as more than best friends too. Not siblings, not that, but…what? She didn’t know.

They orbited each other. North Star and all that rubbish.

She’d never had a best friend like that.

Seeing Mitchell would continue to play it off, Nina told George what happened. He nodded along as she spoke, his expression solemn. When Mitchell tried to pull back, George grabbed his hands again and held on tight.

“You said you felt okay this morning,” he said accusingly.

“I did! It just hit out of nowhere. It’s grand, honestly.”

“Annie’s not going to let you hear the end of this,” George said. Nina had no idea who that was. Mitchell’s girlfriend? Another roommate? One of their family members?

It’s none of your business, that’s what it is, Nina reminded herself sternly.

“Get him home,” Nina said to George. “I’ll explain for you.”

George helped Mitchell stand, slowly and carefully.

“Thanks,” Mitchell said to her. “Sorry for the mayhem.”

“If you think that was mayhem you should see my ward,” Nina said. Now that he was back on his feet, safely in his friend’s arms, she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

“Thank you,” George said quietly. There was something intense about his voice. Something about the way he kept glancing down at Mitchell like George was afraid he’d disappear.

She felt a new rush of concern. Was Mitchell more ill than anyone suspected? Whatever he had, was it getting worse?

It’s none of your business, Pickering! Nina scolded herself again. Everyone always said she was nosy. They were right and she knew it. It was a hard habit to break.

She pushed aside her concerns and questions, and nodded to George.