birdyqueen

And ok... maybe her crush just went from a tiny spark to a full wildfire.

“Dr Al-Hashimi can I present a case?”

“Yes”

“Patient is a 30 year old man with severe abdominal pain. I asked Robby if we could run an ultrasound and discovered that he had tumor on his ovary.”

“His ovary? Did he know about this before?”

“We asked and he seemed dodgy about the answer”

“Alright, did you tell Robby?”

“He’s busy with a trauma.”

“Well—“ Her voice cuts out. Her face goes blank.

“Dr Al-Hashimi?”

Baran doesn’t respond. Her lips smacking slightly.

“Dr Al Hashimi?”

About a minute goes by. Cassie waves a hand in front of the attending’s face. Nothing.

“Dr Al—“ Suddenly Baran collapses and McKay catches her. She starts convulsing. The R3 lays her down on the floor. Oh shit. “UHHH CAN SOMEONE HELP ME? I HAVE A PROBLEM!”

Frank runs over, he sees Cassie next to Al-Hashimi. “ROBBY YOU MIGHT WANT TO GET OVER HERE!” He calls out. “What happened?” He asks McKay.

“I don’t know. I was presenting a case and all of the sudden she just blanked out and collapsed then started seizing. Can someone get me a dose of Keppra?”

“You don’t happen to know anything about her health history do you?”

She shakes her head. By this point Robby is over here.

“Robby do you know anything?” asks Langdon.

Robby sighs. “I’m going to let Al-Hashimi answer that”

Three minutes have gone by. At this point there’s a circle of people around Baran.

She doesn’t come out of it until a minute later. She’s still passed out. Frank and Robby put her on a gurney and take her to an empty room.

~ 2:30 PM

Baran comes to and looks around her confused. She sees a group of the residents and Robby looking at her. She looks small and helpless on the bed.

“You’re okay. You’re in the ED” says Langdon.

It takes her a moment to figure out what happened once she does her facial expression shows embarrassment.

“You had seizure. It lasted 4 minutes. We gave you a dose of Keppra.” says McKay

Dr Al-Hashimi is a bit groggy. But she’s mortified. She feels like she has been stripped naked.

“I need to ask do you have a history of seizures?”

Silence. She looks up at Robby who nods. Finally, she takes a shaky breath in and nods tearfully.

“Let’s give her some space” says Dr Robby. “McKay, once she’s more alert can you check in on her?”

~ 6 PM

After Al-Hashimi returns more to baseline she calls the residents as well as Abbot and Shen into the room.

“This wasn’t the way I wanted to tell everyone. I’m sorry for the disruption.” she attempts to make a lighthearted comment. “But as you just found out I have epilepsy. I’ve had it since I was five.” Saying this aloud made her feel humiliated. She’s visibly nervous, fidgeting with her hands. “If you’ve noticed some of the changes around here—“

“Like two attendings on shift?” interjects Santos.

“Yes. Like two attendings on shift, are there to help me do my job as best I can.”

Baran feels like she’s on the vivisection table. She hates seeing everyone stare at her. Their eyes boring into her soul. The residents and Robby ask a few more relevant questions. She tries to answer them without feeling shame.

As the residents and other staff leave the room, Dr King asks “Do you need anything? Any water or a snack?”

“Some water would be nice. Thank you.”

Dr King leaves to retrieve the items.

Al-Hashimi sits on the bed alone. She starts to cry.

~ 7 PM

Cassie comes back to the room.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Still tired.” Dr Al looks sad she doesn’t look up at her.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“No, I am not” she admits

“You want to talk about it?” McKay says in her classic empathetic tone.

Baran exhausted and mentally drained, “My body has failed me yet again. No matter what I do, I am betrayed.” She hadn’t had a major seizure like this since before laser ablation.

“That’s tough. You know that doesn’t make you a failure, right? You’re a good attending. You don’t take shit from Robby and you seem to care about your patients a lot. The fact that you run the ED like it’s the navy while dealing with epilepsy is impressive. Truly.”

Baran smiles a little. She needed to hear that. She takes another bite of the turkey sandwich that Dr King brought her. As a girl she remembers eating a lot of these due to her not unfrequent ER visits. It takes her back. She didn’t always realize what was going on but the doctors at the ER were nice and gave her a sandwich every time.

“I’ve had my own struggles in life and I believe that they make me a more empathetic doctor. I would imagine that’s true for you as well.”

“Thank you Dr McKay. Sometimes I think this place is cursed.”

“How so?”

“Always something going on. This place is barely being held together. It’s nicknamed The Pitt. My first day was terrible. My condition has worsened since I got here.”

"I'm gonna be an epileptologist. I really like my neurology rota and I was talking to Dr. Mehta and he mentioned that I would probably be a good fit." Trinity threw a cashew in the air and caught it in her mouth. "I mean I have a reason to be passionate on the subject." She winked at Baran who gently slapped her thigh, still gobsmacked.

"You... are going to specialize in epilepsy?"

She'll tell her about this woman she fell in love with, how she died too soon, how it was and still are the best and the worst years of her life. The tears will start flowing, but she'll kept talking.

She'll tell her about how she hated that woman on their first day of work together. How she slowly fell in love with her. How close she became with her son, Kian.

"Wait, uncle 'K?"

She will nod. Then continue.

She'll detail everything she loved about that woman. Tell her how she special it felt when she laughed at her stupid jokes.

And, finally, how scared she looked when it came to it. How angry she was when the doctor told them.

How lonely she felt after.

the first time it happens, they’re all so tired that baran’s pretty sure omid just got confused.

it’s usually her that carries him to bed if he falls asleep on the sofa so it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch if he confused trinity for her.

the second time, it’s said offhandedly enough that omid doesn’t even realise the bomb he’s just let off in the living room.

baran sees how trinity tenses over the stove, how her hands stop stirring for just a second before they go again, faster than before. omid wanders off to the bathroom and baran, sat on the sofa, bites her lip.

she’s about to say something, to dismiss it and ease the obvious sharpness in trinity’s shoulders, when trinity goes to pick up the pan and burns her hand. the discussion is lost under the running of the tap.

it’s a strange thing, shifting through grief. accepting that one person is staying where they are and that life goes on without them.

life without rosha had been stuck for a long time. the same routine, the same traditions, the same memories. baran, at first, hadn’t been able to let go of her.

not for herself, not for omid either.

she hadn’t wanted to leave that life behind, had wanted instead to keep everything as it was, for omid’s wellbeing, for her own heart’s sanity. she’d let the grief pull her dormant, hid her heart from the pain and kept it safe.

with trinity, she feels it. that old love, cracking through, splitting her open. and with it, she feels herself letting go of rosha.

it feels like losing her at first.

like forgetting.

but then she sees trinity curled up on the couch with omid’s head on her chest the same way rosha used to do with him as a baby, her fingers carding through his hair as she reads, and it doesn’t feel like forgetting, it feels like cherishing.

where she sees trinity, she sees a little part of rosha too, getting what she wanted in case anything happened to her. someone to look out for her son, someone to love her wife, everyone to be happy without her there.

baran knows trinity feels it, the uncertainty of stepping into someone else’s shoes, a dead woman’s shoes at that. she doesn’t know if it’s right, if it’s appropriate, if she’s allowed to.

the third time omid lets it out, trinity gets her answer.

he’s in his bedroom while baran and trinity are in the living room reading their books. the call is sharp and panicked down the hallway.

“mom!”

trinity’s up and out of the room before she can even realise what she’s stood up for, before baran even registers what’s going on.

she soothes whatever’s upset him, her arms firm but gentle around his tiny body, her voice calm and reassuring. she’s here, it’s okay, he’s being so brave. she stays there until he falls asleep, baran fondly watching through a crack in the door.

the discomfort returns the minute trinity’s outside the door again, wringing her wrists awkwardly when she pads back into the living room.

“sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I…I didn’t mean to overstep, I-“

baran shuts her up by kissing her, slow and soft and adoring.

“don’t apologise.”

“you’re his mom, baran.”

“mhm, and you are too. if you want to be.”

she can feel the uncertainty in trinity’s posture, can see her searching for it in her eyes, and she smiles, hopes it looks reassuring, understanding.

“you’re not replacing rosha, eshgham.”

“then what am i doing?”

“you’re being there for him. you take him to soccer practice, you pick him up from school, you kiss him when he’s hurt. that’s half of parenting, darling.”

trinity bites her lower lip. “oh yeah? what’s the other half?”

“that half you’ve already got down.”

“mm?”

“you love him.”

trinity looks down, her breathing a little shaky like she’s about to start crying. baran holds her close when she sniffs.

“trinity?”

“hm?”

“you don’t have to be, if you don’t want to. if it’s not what you want…I…I’m not forcing you.”

trinity presses her forehead into baran’s sternum, breaths against her, lets herself be supported.

“I do want it.” she whispers quietly against her heart. “i want to be there for him, when he needs someone. I…I want to be his mom.”

baran smiles, kisses her forehead, feels her heart swell and threaten to burst out of her chest. trinity looks up again.

“but…but I don’t want to replace your wife…I don’t want to push her out. I don’t want him to forget her.”

baran kisses her again, lets trinity wrap her arms around her waist.

“you won’t, baby.”

it’s only in a tiny promise that rosha’s memory feels lighter, feels like a flame carried forward than a stone sinking her to drown.

Thoughts that raised valid institutional concerns.

She found Trinity at the end of the north hallway and planted herself squarely in the woman's path.

"Can I ask you something?"

Trinity stopped. Tilted her head. "You're already asking."

"Why," Baran said, "is every attending in this department sleeping with a resident?"

Trinity looked delighted, like she found this extremely entertaining.

"Robby and Whitaker," Baran continued, because she had prepared points and she was going to make them. "Ellis and King. Abbot and Mohan. That's not a pattern, that's a—"

"Epidemic?" Trinity offered.

"I was going to say problem."

Trinity smiled. She took exactly one step closer, which was one step more than was strictly necessary.

"Why, do you want one for yourself, Dr. Al-Hashimi?"

Baran's prepared remarks evaporated completely.

"That's—" she started. "This is not—" she tried again. "I came here to raise a legitimate—"

Trinity was still smiling, watching her go absolutely nowhere with obvious pleasure.

Baran turned around and left. Walking in a direction she chose entirely based on it being away.

"My door's always open, boss," Trinity called after her.

i think baran is very used to flirting with men and can do it really well. she’s a very competitive flirt, with men. she will rib and poke and tease, appeal to men’s egos but roll over at the last minute. men are terrible flirts, she thinks. they don’t know how to leave anything to the imagination.

oh, yeah? and what would you do if i was?

she rolls her eyes. flirting is an art, and men are so unsubtle.

baran al-hashimi also has many close friendships with women. she struggles to fit in with groups, but has lots of strong individual friendships. she’s very touchy with them, will have their feet on her lap while they drink wine on the couch or will tuck a strand of hair behind their ears when there’s hair in their face. she loves her friends. she feels deeply for them. she also feels lonely, a lot.

this is why it’s so confusing when, after a long shift, trinity santos asks if she can kiss her.

they’re at a bar just across from the hospital, and everyone else from their shift has gone home while they’ve been talking. and maybe baran and trinity have chatted a few times while trinity’s had a smoke break and baran was out getting some air in the ambulance bay, but baran had never picked up any kind of flirtation from her. she’d never even thought—

trinity looks at her for a moment, tilting her beer from side to side, and smiles to herself. never mind, she says. don’t worry about it.

oh, baran responds, because she doesn’t know what to say. i’m sorry. you just caught me off guard, a little.

she must have flushed down to her chest, because trinity takes in the look on her face, and smiles again, a little like a smirk.

no, trinity says. my bad. i think i misread this.

she looks down to baran’s hand, which is placed onto her knee. baran withdraws it, humiliated.

oh, she says, feeling stupid.

why don’t we just forget about it? trinity replies, throwing her a lifeline. clock in tomorrow like nothing happened.

baran looks at trinity’s face, at the line of her jaw. at her completely easy posture, not having shifted one inch even after technically being rejected. trinity’s a lesbian, she thinks. obvious, in hindsight.

i, um. she starts, uncharacteristically nervous.

baran, i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable. the posture doesn’t change, but trinity’s head tilts a little in concern. the r in baran’s name rolls off her tongue, easy, and baran blushes deeper.

it’s not that. no, she says. i just, um. it didn’t occur to me that—

she’s fucking this up. she takes a breath.

i’ve never been flirted with by a woman before. she’s proud of how even her voice is, at the little smile she pushes out through closed lips.

trinity smiles again in response, this time with her teeth. oh yeah? she says. proud to be your first.

oh. that’s definitely flirting. baran begins to re-evaluate their last few interactions.

oh yeah? in the ambulance bay. and in your professional opinion, what is the best way to do a blind finger-bougie crike, dr al-hashimi?

better you than me, dr al-hashimi.

you have a son? but aren’t you like, thirty-five?

the words themselves are innocuous, but combined with the way trinity lowers her voice, crosses her arms, juts her chin out a little….

oh.

baran leans forward over the bar, touches trinity’s forearm gently with her fingertips. trinity looks at the hand carefully, and then back at her face. baran looks at her lips. she wonders.

could you ask me that question again? she requests. in two weeks, when i leave?

trinity grins. sure can, boss.

Like omg I can't even

The lighting

The way they stand

Their looks

The whole vibe

Them neck freckles. Every time.

More Lena, for absolutely no reason.

The text came at 5:17 AM as Baran was waiting for her uber. She frowned at her phone and hesitated for a few moments before shooting off a quick reply.

I hope everything is okay. Are you comfortable sharing what's going on, or would you prefer to keep it private?

She watched as 3 dots appeared and disappeared over and over for a minute or two before typing again.

Your health is a priority, Dr. Santos. Whatever is wrong - I just want to ensure you have proper support. Even if it's as simple as a regular check-in or information about leave, benefits and workplace accommodations.

It went through as she slipped into the back seat of her ride.

You know you're way nicer over text.

Baran smiled.

I've been told I can come off as a touch robotic in person at times.

No hesitation this time - Baran considered it a small win.

🤏🏻

The 20 minute trip from her home to PTMC passed with short texts back and forth - Baran feeling a bit more at ease with interacting with the prickly resident.

Maybe you could... idk come visit? Like... after work.

She nodded to the check-in desk in greeting - they were already working on hand-offs.

Consider it done. What floor and hours?

Trinity dropped a link into chat for Presbyterian and Baran's eyes locked onto inpatient and emergency psychiatric care.

I'll be there.

She made a mental note to tell Abbot she had a hard stop.

Not even gonna make it weird?

Baran couldnt stop the small smile.

Mental health isn't weird and I find the stigma around it rather dull. I'll be there. Shall I make jokes, or not yet? I am a millennial after all. Gallows humor is our forte.

Santos' reply was quick.

Bring all the jokes.

She secured her work bag in her locker.

I'll be sure to smuggle essence of redbull in.

It got a laughing emoji at least.