#riain

Sorry this is so late! Hope you enjoy :) xx

Riain Drabble (ok it’s not a Drabble but) - Budge Up

“Budge up, you,” Rita huffed, prompting Iain to shuffle over quickly and let her plop her small frame down in the new space beside him. He had been sitting on the edge of the back of an ambulance, head rested on his hands; Rita hadn’t been sure whether he was thinking or just asleep. Still, she had bounded over to him, sure she could energise him once more, with the little energy she had left after a usually tough shift.

“Alrigh’ Reet?” He mumbled and she concluded that he had, in fact, been asleep this whole time. She tutted and took his face in her hands, looking over it and noticing the eyebags deeply etched onto his face, eyelids only half-open. She placed a light kiss atop his nose before giving his face back to him.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” She tried to sound stern but couldn’t quite muster the bite in her words that she wanted as she looked at him. He opened his mouth to reply but found he couldn’t so simply shook his head, earning another tut from Rita.

“You can’t work like this, Iain, you’ll have to go home.” He perked up at that, jumping up with as much enthusiasm as he could possibly find and smiling a smile just short of his usual heart-stopping number.

“Ah no, Reet, really ’m fine. Just a little sleepy, is all.” He cupped her cheek affectionately before walking off to join Dixie. Rita smirked slightly as his assumption that he would get away that easily.

“Dixie!” She called and the fellow blonde bounded over to her.

“Rita? To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“That man,” Rita pointed accusingly at Iain’s now turned back, “Didn’t sleep at all last night, or the night before I’m guessing. There’s no way it’s safe for him or for our patients if he’s here.”

Dixie looked over at him, clocking all the sleep deprived signs she had previously missed and sighed, rolling her eyes.

“You’re right, of course, but if so, you’re the one getting him to go. Good luck to you.” And with that, Dixie scampered off leaving a bewildered Rita on her own. She walked tentatively to Iain’s new position. She had a plan.

“Iain! Dixie said you could have your break now while I’m here!” She told him excitedly. He faked an excited thumbs up which she noticed and fought not to raise an eyebrow at, before joining her in the break room.

They sat down on the sofa and Rita wound Iain’s arm round her waist and threw one of her legs over his, intertwining them. That should do it.

“So, come on, tell me what’s been,” she yawned for effect, “bothering you?”

“Rita,” she pouted at the loss of her nickname, “It really isn’t a big-”

“Iain.” Rita stated his name firmly, giving him very few options at this point but to spill.

“Ok, ok, fine.” He relented, “I’ve just been so stressed lately, it was that case on - what was it? - Tuesday, that’s it, on Tuesday with that little girl, you know the one. It’s just been getting on top of me more than it should. It’s happened in the past too and it goes in a couple of days but right now I just feel…I just feel…”

He stopped as he heard the sounds of Rita’s soft little snores echoing around the room. Looking down, he saw her head, now on his shoulder, with eyes closed and a spot of dribble at the corner of her mouth. At first he grew annoyed but that soon melted into pure love as he stared at her. He tried to get up but found her leg was rather restricting on his and making sure he was going nowhere. Giving up, he instead rested his head stop hers and allowed the exhaustion that had been building for days to wash over him.

He was asleep in seconds.

Dear ______, I ____ you. You have a nice ______. You make me _______. You should _______. Someday I will ______. You + me = ________. If I saw you now I’d __________. I want to ________ you. I would build a _______ just for you. If I could sing you any song it would be _________. We could __________ under the stars. 
Love, 
_______________ (P.S. ______________.)

So here you go lovely!

Dear Milly,

I love you! You have a nice, well-earned break now your A-levels have finished. You make me smile. All. The. Time. You should totally know how amazing, beautiful, brave and what a fantastic friend you are. Someday I will watch one of our TV programmes in person with you. You + me = hopeless Riain addicts forever. I want to stay friends with you. I would build a perfect episode of Casualty just for you (it would only need 2 characters. With maybe some assistance from a couple more. And possibly one or two coming back from beyond the grave 💔 We’d pay the actors to film it then hang out with us for the rest of the week…) If I could sing you any song it would be King of Wishful Thinking by Go West (lyrics are perfect for our ‘condition’!) We could squeal/laugh/cry about our two faves under the stars.

Love, Me

******

“Hello stranger. Looks serious…?” Rita speaks softly so as not to wake the tiny baby sleeping soundly in a sling against her chest or alarm the veteran nurse having crept up behind him. She nods her head in the general direction of the police activity.

Charlie turns round, his eyes filled with tears, “Rita, I… how did you…?” Rita frowning at his reaction, surprised at the lack of comment about the child she’s carrying.

“Erm… I’ve been trying to find Iain but he’s not answering his phone… Charlie?”

“Oh Rita… it’s Iain, he….” Charlie is gesturing towards the scene, towards the huge pool of blood that Rita has now spotted on the paving behind the police tape. He can’t say anymore but doesn’t need to. Cal appears around the corner, his face ashen and streaked with tears just in time to see Rita’s hands shoot to her mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no…” her voice trembles and breaks and Cal rushes forward to catch her as her legs buckle beneath her.

“Cal please, tell me Iain’s ok. Tell me he’s ok” she pleads with him, dark brown eyes wide, terrified. Cal can’t say anything, he just holds her more tightly and she cries out in anguish as she understands his silence.