So @eatapinkwafer said, “It’s so nice all the Valentine’s treats people are putting up today, could you write a nice Valentine’s Fic?”
Erm that would be no? Anyone up for an angsty CtM fic?
All translations by the Wafer.
Nurse Patience Mount wouldn’t call herself a romantic. She was a practical sort of girl, organized and conscientious. She had seen cruelty beyond words, she would never find the words. She had felt grief at such a tender age, before she was familiar with the word.
No, Patsy was not a romantic, she didn’t believe in grand gestures and sentiment. She did however believe in love. Delia Busby had not taught Patsy to believe in happy ever afters or good always conquers evil, but she had taught her that hope was not a joke. That love does have power, that healing was possible and however lost you may think you are, the way home is always clear, in the eyes of someone who loves you unconditionally.
When she saw the light go out in Phyllis Crane’s eyes on discovering that her new Spanish classmate, could in no way be her soulmate. Patsy felt the pain of her colleague much deeper than she would have imagined. Nurse Mount knew all about hiding feelings. Patsy was proficient in painting on a stiff upper lip. She knew how to make a broken heart tick in perfect time.
Patsy’s offer of a cup of tea had initially been rebuffed by a Phyllis trying to keep those wretched tears from the eyes that had foolishly glimpsed something she thought she liked, was it companionship, was it more? Phyllis saw something in Patsy that wasn’t awkwardness at best or pity at worst. She perceived compassion.
What was that new word they were bandying about in all the recent nursing mags, like sympathy but not, yes empathy! That was what nurses were supposed to show in the 60’s. Nurse Mount wasn’t offerings tea and sympathy, she was offering tea and empathy.
Phyllis’s brave face turned towards her young friend and she somehow found the words to reassure her that she was fine, but not in the brisk way she intended. Suddenly she found herself confiding in her junior, revealing just enough of her dashed hopes to repay the kindness that had been offered to her. Regaining her composure, Phyllis thanked Patsy for her offer of tea, in a way that made Patsy wonder for a moment, who was comforting who?
Patsy had lived in a world where it was possible to lose everything, even your sense of self through man’s inhumanity to man. She had found in that same world a way to care, to heal, to treat injury and injustice.She had also learned how to love deeply and purely, but to be told that love was anything but pure. The world was a very confusing place indeed, for someone who loved order and clarity, someone such as Nurse Mount.
She didn’t know if Mr Smith loved Phyllis or if Phyllis loved Mr Smith. What she had witnessed was two people who were falling in love with life again and it’s bedfellows, hope and joy. Only to be admonished and separated by society, propriety and piety.
If Delia had taught Patsy anything, it was that love was a precious gift that was not to be squandered or taken for granted. All love stories don’t end in a white lace dress. They don’t all end in a common surname. Not all end with the patter of tiny feet.
But all love stories contain an element of courage and with Delia hiding behind the door, egging Patsy on. Nurse Mount knew she would not leave the nurses desk until the courageous Nurse Crane vacated it and went to change into her best green dress with a little polish from Nurse Franklin, for her Flamenco Night!
un poco de té y empatía puede tener mucho valor