(Baran Al-Hashimi x fem!reader)
This story follows Dr. y/n Sterling through chaotic shifts in the emergency department that become far more emotionally charged than she expected. The arrival of a new attending, Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi, immediately disrupts the team dynamic. Her competence is clear, but her guarded personality and clashes with others create tension.
Throughout the day, you’re drawn to Baran despite her reserved nature. Your connection builds subtly: shared moments with patients, mutual respect under pressure, and defending Baran when others criticize her. Beneath Baran’s composure, however, something deeper is unraveling.
The story centers on the contrast between connection and self-protection. Two people drawn to each other but held back by past trauma, fear, and the high-pressure world they live in.
Just for shits and giggles tbh
You hope today will be an easygoing shift.
As you’re walking through the waiting room, it seems bearable, especially for a holiday.
You know you’re asking for too much when you walk in for your shift and find Robby and nurse Lena talking about how the new attending is currently torturing the med students in some kind of simulation. You roll your eyes at Robby’s comment about the new attending having “giant balls of disrespect”.
He’s been pretty insufferable lately, and you were probably more excited about his sabbatical than he was. Not that you hated him; in fact, you cared for him like a brother. You just think he really needs a break from this place.
You go to your locker and change into your scrubs, willing the caffeine you had on the way to work to kick in.
After you get the night shift handoffs, you look over and see Victoria Javadi doing notes and talking to Trinity Santos.
“Hey, Sterl” she says with a smile.
You loved Victoria. Since she started at PTMC, you took her under your wing, and now you see each other like sisters.
“We were just talking about the new attending. Any thoughts?” Santos asks.
“Haven’t met her yet. Why? What’s the verdict so far?” You ask with a playful tone.
Before they respond, Dr. Shamsi approaches the group, and you take that as your cue to jump in on the incoming trauma.
You’re getting suited up when Robby introduces the new E.D. attending to you and Dr. Garcia.
“Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi, this is Dr. Sterling, one of our fellow attendings, and Dr. Garcia, one of the butchers from upstairs.”
Baran’s eyes widen at the remark about the surgeon, but is quick to recover.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Al-Hashimi,” you say, barely sparing her a glance, too focused on the trauma at hand.
Once the patient is on the table, the head attendings start barking orders awkwardly.
“Prep for a left thoracotomy.”
You hear both attendings bickering, as if they’re fighting for dominance.
As the day goes on, you decide it can go screw itself.
You’re hunched over one of the computers when you feel a nudge on your shoulder.
“Here, you look like you need it,” Samira says as she hands over a hot cup of coffee.
“Oh my god, I could kiss you,” you say, as you take a long sip of the drink.
The response makes Samira laugh.
Your eyes flash across the E.D., following the new attending into a patient’s room. Samira follows your line of sight, shakes her head, and lets out a little chuckle that brings your focus back to your friend.
“She’s just interesting, that's all. I’m not sure what to think of her yet.”
Samira gives you a knowing look.
“She was my mentor at the VA.”
Now that catches your attention.
“She’s brilliant. Worked in Afghanistan, with Médecins Sans Frontières, even at the maternity hospital.”
You take the information in, but before you can respond, Dana comes up to you guys.
“Hey, Thing One and Thing Two! This is Emma, she’s shadowing for the day. I have to step out for a sec, think one of you can keep her company while the other checks on our baby Jane Doe?” Dana asks as she’s already halfway out of the E.D., pulling out a pack of cigarettes.
You all chuckle but agree anyway.
“Hey Emma. I’m y/n Sterling, or Thing One,” you say with a joking tone that makes Samira slap your arm.
“What the hell, what if I wanted to be Thing One?” she says, but turns her attention back to Emma.
“I’m Samira… Mohan… Samira Mohan. Thing Two…”
Now it’s your turn to raise a brow at your friend’s behavior.
You take this chance to help your best friend out.
“Right well. I’m gonna go check on baby Jane Doe, you two have fun.” You say, walking away with a playful smile.
When you walk into the room, you expect to be alone with the baby.
You do not expect to see Dr. Al-Hashimi cooing at the little bundle of joy.
She looks up at you, gives a small smile, and turns back to the baby.
“How’s our V.I.P. patient doing?” You ask as you make your way over to the other side of the baby.
This is the first time you can really tell how beautiful the other woman is. The way her curly hair is pinned back, loose curls still framing her face. Big brown eyes lit up as she talked to the baby. You have to shake your head to physically snap yourself out of whatever daze you were in.
“Seems to be doing well. Still waiting on some labs, but she’s stable.” Dr. Al-Hashimi says. Quick. To the point.
You nod and reach out to hold the baby’s little hand.
It’s Baran’s turn to take a look at the younger woman in front of her.
With eyes, you can’t really read yet.
You both recognize it in the other.
“How’s your first day going?” You ask.
You want to laugh, but resist the urge to.
Instead, you nod and say something about checking on other patients.
There’s something in Baran that you find so familiar, but try not to dwell on the nagging feeling in your chest, drawing you to the older woman.
Still, Baran Al-Hashimi takes up a spot in your mind that you can’t seem to shake.
At PTMC, you’ve built good relationships all around. Victoria is like a little sister, Samira is your best friend, Dana is like a cool aunt with motherly advice, and Robby and Langdon are like brothers.
You cherish those relationships, and you know they cherish them just as much.
You were a damn good doctor, but that wasn’t the most interesting thing about you. You loved music, your family, art, movies, the ocean, the list goes on and on.
You tried your best to be a good person, and that showed in the way you cared for your patients and tried to take care of others.
You’re the kind of person that’s able to connect with anyone, and if, for some reason, you didn’t, then you were able to be civil around them.
Even though this is how you were, you did not trust easily. You were able to tell people enough about yourself without actually telling them anything of substance. A coping mechanism built through childhood trauma, perhaps. Because of this, when you loved someone, like really loved and trusted someone, they felt it.
Only a select few were on that list, though.
And Baran Al-Hashimi wanted in on that list even if she might not know it yet.
She found you intriguing. She didn’t know what it was, but she also knew now was not the time to figure it out.
So instead of reaching out to you, she played it safe. Short.
Not knowing that she can only keep her composure for so long.
You were talking with Donnie when you were paged to a trauma. On your way there, you bumped into Yolanda, heading to the same place. Once you guys got there, you could quickly tell the surgeon was livid.
“What, did you use a meat cleaver on this kid?”
You take the scene in and you’re actually really impressed.
After some back and forth, Yolanda couldn’t help herself as she looked directly at Dr. Al-Hashimi and said, “They’ll be thrilled to clean up your mess.”
You tense at the comment, feeling a need to defend her, but you don’t get the chance.
“Or maybe they’ll thank us for not letting him die.” Turning on her heels, shaking her head in disbelief as she leaves the room.
You smirk at the response and look directly at the surgeon.
“I think I have a new favorite doctor.”
Garcia just rolls her eyes, feeling a little hurt by the comment.
“Play nice, Yolo. She’s gonna be around for a while.”
Once you see that the patient is in good hands, you chase Dr. Al-Hashimi down, finding her at the nurses' station.
“Hey, don’t take Garcia’s words to heart. She says stuff without thinking sometimes.”
Dr. Al-Hashimi looks at you with a raised brow.
“So you’re here to defend her? Because you agree with her?” She says defensively.
You give a half laugh, thinking this woman really is hard to read.
“No, actually, I thought what you did in there was impressive. Took balls, and you know how surgeons can be. She’s annoying sometimes, but she’s good at what she does.”
Dr. Al-Hashimi tilts her head as she looks at you, but doesn’t respond. Instead she holds eye contact with you as if she is trying to figure out what game you’re playing with her.
The moment is interrupted when Dana calls you over to help Emma with something.
“Duty calls. Don’t let it bother you. You’re doing great.” You say as you walk away with a small, genuine smile that gives Baran light butterflies.
It’s towards the end of the day, when you are shoving Robby into an empty room.
“What the hell is wrong with you today?!” You yell at the man in front of you.
He doesn’t answer, looking ashamed.
“Seriously?! What reason did you have for lashing out on Samira like that earlier? And now going off on Al-Hashimi?”
You don’t know what was said between the two attendings, but everyone could feel the tension.
He knows he fucked up. Especially hearing this from you. Someone he trusted and respected.
“You don’t know everything, Sterling.” He says in defense, but you don’t want to hear it.
“I swear, Robby, you need to get a therapist or something because that shit was way out of line. Samira is a great doctor and even better person; you had no right to say what you said after you had a panic attack last year. And don’t even get me started on Al-Hashimi. Everyone has seen you taking jabs at her all day. She’s new, Robby, and like it or not, she’s gonna be around for a while.”
It’s quiet, and he just seems so defeated.
You take pity on him, knowing he’s going through something.
Recognizing some of these signs.
You exhale and say, “You know you can talk to me. This shit we go through every time we walk in through those doors… It’s a lot to carry alone.”
He nods, but doesn’t look up.
You’re about to continue when you’re flagged outside by Abbot, leaving Robby alone with your words.
The day was a shit show, but you made it through.
You couldn’t wait to get home and knock out.
While you’re walking to your car, you see one blocking yours in.
As you get closer, you see Dr. Al-Hashimi in the driver’s seat.
You don’t know what compels you to approach her, but before you can think too much about it, you’re pulling the passenger door handle open and taking a seat next to the doctor.
Baran tries quickly wiping her tears away, but you give her a compassionate look that makes the older woman want to cry even more.
You sit there.You don’t know what to do or say. At first, you assume Baran is crying because of the shitty day, but you know it has to be something deeper than that.
You barely know the woman and are surprised she didn’t yell at you to get the hell out of her car.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask, quietly.
Baran shakes her head, but when she turns to look at you, all she sees is the worry and care in your eyes.
She takes a deep breath and tries to steady her breathing.
“I have a chronic seizure disorder… It started when I was a kid. Viral meningitis.” She gets out, hoping you can put the pieces together.
You nod, listening intently, and let her continue.
“It’s been a little over a year since I’ve had one. But I had two today… I don’t know what exactly triggered it, but it happened. I tried talking to Robby about it… hoping he’d understand… but instead he made me second-guess everything, and now I’m here… debating if I should drive myself home… debating if I can even drive myself home.”
You reach out and take Baran’s hand in your own. Hoping she finds it comforting.
The sight breaks your heart.
“Don’t listen to the things Robby said, he’s going through his own shit that he needs to sort out. I’m assuming you already talked to your neurologist?”
Baran nods, eyes looking frantically at everything around her, and says “He said I’m fine, I can drive and work and if I want to try upping the Keppra, I can do that.”
“Baran, look at me,” you say, pleading.
You reach your free hand over to turn Baran’s face towards you.
She hesitates, but looks at you anyway. Cheeks tear stained and eyes red from crying, but focused on your caring orbs.
“You are one of the most competent people I know. You worked at the VA, hell, you worked in Kabul. This E.D. is a lot… but trust me when I say that I know that you are more than capable. And if anyone has anything to say about your abilities as an attending, I’m here to back you up. I’ll always be here.”
The words go straight to her heart.
Hearing you say them almost makes Baran believe them.
“Thank you,” Baran says softly.
You stroke her cheek with your thumb and decide on the next plan of action.
“Let me take you home. We can leave your car here, we’re both off tomorrow, and it should be fine. I just… I don’t want to leave you alone.”
Baran knows she should say no.
You don’t know each other. Not really. Even though it feels like you’re seeing right through her. Breaking down every barrier she had up.
She should Uber home or call her ex-husband back and have him pick her up.
But looking in the warm eyes across from her, all she can do is nod in agreement.
You bring Baran back to your place.
You don’t know why you do it. You just know you have to take care of her.
You couldn’t leave her alone after all that.
Baran takes a look around, inhaling the scent that’s so clearly you.
You let her take a shower and lend her clothes to sleep in.
Once you were both showered, you made tea and sat on the sofa with her.
“Thank you… for this. You didn’t have to.” Baran says shyly into her mug. Feeling weak, but still too burned out to think logically.
And there was something so honest in that.
You can feel it before the tears fall. A weight heavy on your chest as you engulf Baran into your arms and let her cry into your shirt.
Feeling the weight of the day, of your words, of your actions.
She stays in your arms until she calms down.
You talk about other things, but Baran’s eyes go heavy pretty fast after all the crying she did.
You gently lead her to the guest room and help her into bed.
When you go to turn the lamp off and are about to leave the room, you feel a hand grab yours.
Pleading eyes looking up at you.
You don’t know if it’s a question, a statement, or a suggestion, but you can’t refuse her.
“Ye- yeah. Okay,” you stutter out instead.
You get into the bed, taking a spot right next to your fellow attending. Not thinking about how badly this could end.
Some time has passed, but you can’t sleep. You thought Baran was asleep until you heard a soft voice coming from beside you.
You place your arm around the older woman, who seems so small in the place next to you.
Both find comfort in the other.
As you are finally dozing off to sleep, you let yourself feel this. Whatever this is between you two. Not knowing if you’ll ever get to be this close to her again. A small keepsake for you to hold on to in your dazed state. You lean down and place a slow, sleepy kiss on Baran’s forehead and close your eyes.
The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, hearing Baran in the restroom.
You finally get up and think about making her breakfast when Baran quietly comes back into the room. Or more like tries to sneakily escape the room.
“I can make us something to eat if you’re hungry,” you barely get out before Baran interrupts.
“My Uber is 5 minutes away.”
“Okay,” you say as you watch Baran look for her shoes, muttering quick thank yous and seeming so disconnected.
You slow her down by taking Baran’s hands in your own. Thankful she let you.
“Can I at least give you my number?”
Baran swallows thickly and nods slowly, not trusting herself to speak.
The Uber is outside, and Baran is almost out the door when you tell her to please text you when she gets home. Throwing a quick “yeah” as she leaves.
You feel like you have whiplash.
Wondering what the hell happened.
The next day at work, you hope to find some sort of clarity about that night.
But instead, you are met with stone-cold eyes and walls that are ten times higher and built stronger than they were before.
Baran doesn’t bring it up.
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