Warnings:
Anxiety
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All three of your patients had died on the table today. You were not handling it well, frankly you were at a stage of constant border-line panic attack.
There was only an hour left of your shift, you were sat in the Doctor's Lounge, waiting for the parents of the lately deceased woman who died during surgery.
Your leg bounced relentlessly at the floor and your fingers tapped at your thigh as you sat tensed on the couch.
Unknown to you, both Sarah and Nat had noticed your stressed form and took mental notes of it.
"Hey, Y/n?" Sarah asked for your attention.
"Yeah?" You stood up from the couch.
"The parents are here." She gazed at you with sympathetic eyes.
You nodded and walked into the main room to see the parents waiting patiently, naïve to the fact that their daughter was dead. "Great." You mumbled, anxiety building in your throat.
Nat stared at you, knowing that only one more thing could push you over the edge.
"Uhm... Actually, Y/n. I think I'll take this one for you." She didn't wait for a response, she rushed away to the awaiting parents.
You sighed and rubbed your hands over your face.
Once again, Sarah had watched in concern for her joyfriend, (gender-neutral term for boyfriend/girlfriend), as you blinked back tears.
She approached you carefully and grabbed your hand to trail you away from the chaos.
You followed her to an empty room and sat down in a chair that was one of very few pieces of furniture in the small room.
Sarah sat down next to you, silently taking your hand. Most people would think having a shrink as a girlfriend would be difficult or annoying, but you found it to have many positives.
She rubbed her thumb over your knuckles and pressed herself against you slightly.
"You can talk when you're ready." She mumbled.
"What makes you think there's something wrong?" You whispered, although you already felt yourself breaking down.
"Y/n..." She pushed.
You nodded and rested you head on her shoulder, sniffling a little.
After a moment you felt ready to start talking, "all three of my patients died today. And I couldn't save them."
"Awe, love I'm so sorry." She mumbled, kissing the top of your head.
The last hour of your shifts consisted with you talking and Sarah rubbing your back, and kissing your head adoringly.
By the end of your little therapy session, you were feeling a little better, and before falling asleep in her arms that night you whispered, "Thank you, Sarah. I love you so much."
"I love you too, Y/n."
