Outlander Fanfic Relay #3
This is @ladygloucester for #3 of the Outlander Fanfic Relay!
The thing I liked the most about being a surgeon was structure. It was the foundation of every surgical procedure, of every medical decision, even when mistakes were made or unforeseen events happened, there was a structure I could set in place in order to solve whatever life threw on my way. Structure was something I could always count with.
My routine was crystal clear, a well defined path I’d walk through every day. Receiving every patient when they arrived at the dialysis room, greeting them by name, helping them get comfortable, supervising every machine ticked and beeped the way it was supposed to. Again, structure bolstered not only my days, but also my patients’. Knowing what to expect, who they’d be with and how every session would end provided some relief in situations where it was hard to find, when future seemed to fade with each day the phone didn’t ring, announcing that hopeful match.
His rich, low voice caught me by surprise. I was charting, my pen quickly scribbling one lab result after the other, completely immersed in levels of urea, potassium and bicarbonate, when his eyes met mine across the counter.
“I was askin’ ye about yer day, Dr. Beauchamp.” A disarming smirk and a slightly arched eyebrow accompanied his words, making me smile.
“I’m quite alright, James, thank you. Do you know what story you’re going to tell today? Your audience seem impatient,” I pointed with my pen towards the rest of the patients, staring at us. “Come, let’s get you ready.”
His eyes followed the movements of my hands while I prepared the machine, not even flinching as I inserted the needles in his AV fistula.
“I think today will be about the woman of Balnain. D'ye know that one?” I shook my head politely and smiled reassuringly.
“I’m sure they’ll love it.”
Soon enough his voice came back to life, covered in that daydreamer tone that captured both patients and staff and transported them to that place of magic and fantasy where he would take them every day. A trip that dissolved the walls of that room, of that hospital, even of time and space themselves, transforming them into a traveling mist, their pains and tribulations long forgotten. I regretted leaving, but those tubes of blood wouldn’t run to the lab by themselves.
His voice guided me back to the dialysis room. I leaned against the threshold and gave in, letting his words extricate me from reality.
“After all that, she got to return to the stones, leavin’ lovers and friends behind. For she didna belong there, in that space, in that time. She gazed back one last time, before placin’ her hands against the cold stone, the very same that had taken her in the first place, and disappeared into thin air.”
A whirlwind of tartan. Auburn curls, covered in sweat and blood. Blood everywhere, covering his back. His hands, tied to a post. The taste of my tears in my tongue. A scream in my throat, tearing it up.
Then I blacked out.