My Baby, My Darling.

Dexter POV

Most days everything moves fast. It’s decision after decision. Make a diagnosis. Choose a treatment. Treatment doesn’t work. Meet with the patient. Choose a different treatment. Chart the patient’s progress. Move onto the next patient.

And that’s what I needed today, a constant distraction. But when I most need the chaos of a hospital, they put me in the clinic. And surprise, surprise! There are no patients in the clinic today. So, here I am, left to my own thoughts. I’m stuck inside of my own head and forced to confront the reality that the person I love the most in this world kissed someone else, might possibly be in love with someone else.

I’m sitting here and I’m trying to find a solution, some sort of treatment plan that will cure the sudden ache that seems to be taking over my whole body. I need to try something, anything to wipe my mind of all the toxic thoughts floating around. But I can’t do it. There is nothing more frustrating than not being able to solve a problem, my problems. And it doesn’t really help when there is an intern following me around and kissing my ass.

“I could do your charting.” He says, all doe-eyed, like if he kisses enough of my ass he would somehow get to assist with my next big patient. He’s new. He doesn’t know that I like to work alone.

“No.” I don’t even look up from the game of online chess in front of me. The nurses hate when I use the computer for my personal amusement. But there are literally no patients in the clinic today so they can’t really bitch about me not doing my job.

The intern looks up at the ceiling, thinking of something new to propose. He reminds me of myself when I was in med school. Eager for something, anything. I lost that somewhere along the way. I think that all the death in this hospital kind of wares down on that quality.

“I could check on your patients and make sure they don’t need their IV fluids replaced.” He said.

Roman from Virginia just moved his rook to a very compromising position. Roman is in for a rude awakening. This game is mine in about three turns.

I look over at the intern. I think his name is Brandon.

“The nurses have that under control. If they need anything, they’ll page me.”

“But they never need you.” He huffed. What a child.

“Exactly.” I muttered and stared at the spinning wheel, telling me that Roman from Virginia was just realizing his mistake and was now trying desperately to figure out how he was going to back out of this one. “Today is an easy day, Brandon. Just relax, alright?”

“I became a doctor to help the sick, not to watch you play online chess.” He groaned, leaning back in his chair. I don’t know what it is, but the interns are more relaxed around me than most of the residents in the hospital. It’s probably because I’m younger than most of the interns. I guess I’m not as intimidating as the rest of the resident doctors.

“You aren’t watching me play online chess.” I said, my eyes traveling over the empty beds of the clinic. “You’re watching me kick Roman from Virginia’s ass.”

Just as the words left my mouth, I made my final move and the words ‘Check Mate’ flashed across the screen. Somewhere hundreds of miles away, Roman from Virginia is crying a soft cry of defeat.

“Nice.” Brandon smirked and stood up from his chair. “And my name is Bradley, not Brandon. You’ve been calling me Brandon for two weeks and I correct you everytime.”

“Forgive me when I say this, but I really don’t give a shit. You’re lucky I don’t call you Intern.” I said and he laughed.

“You are the only Resident that refers to people by their first names, do you realize that?”

“No.” I yawned, the fatigue from last nights spectacle finally taking it’s toll on me. “That must be why none of the Interns tremble with fear every time I walk by like they do for the rest of the Residents.”

“Dr. McHale, with all due respect, no one fears you because you never really tell us to do anything besides chill. We’re afraid of the other residents because they make us do everything and then get mad at us when we do it wrong. You’re basically the only resident that doesn’t hate us yet.”

“Well that’s enlightening, I guess.” I mumbled, closing out of the game.

“So what are you thinking of for your specialty?” He said it nonchalantly, like he didn’t just ask me the same question all of the attendings in this hospital had already asked me twice over. It wasn’t that easy. Just pick a specialty. There was so much that I had to consider. I spent so many years working toward something but not knowing what it was. And for everyone to suddenly ask me what I was working for…

“That’s none of your business.” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“You don’t know yet, huh?” He grinned, like he knew the feeling. He was a fucking intern. From what I hear, he doesn’t even know how to suture properly. “You should go into pediatrics. You’re really good at that.”

“How the fuck would you know?” I yawned.

“You don’t let me do anything,” He laughed. “Basically, all I do is follow you around. Trust me, you should do pediatrics. You may not be good with adults, but you’re like a wizard when it comes to dealing with kids.”

He must not know that I have a daughter.

“Will you go get me some coffee, Brandon?” I said, closing my eyes to add some sort of moisture to my dried corneas.

“Bradley.” He said and I nodded.

“Yeah, whatever.” I waved him off and he smiled, probably at the absurdity of the whole situation. I knew that I didn’t treat my colleagues like any of the normal physicians. I treated them like people. They had names, I might as well call them by it. It’s not like I’d lose brain cells by calling people by their first names. And I’ve observed that if you at least try to remember people’s names, they’re more likely to do what you say.

The sliding doors opened and I stood up from the chair to prepare a clip board for the patient to sign all of our admittance papers. But most of the people that came to the clinic either had a sore throat or a mysterious rash or something like that, so I don’t understand the procedure of having them fill out stacks of papers where they describe their symptoms. The nurses could just fill it out for them. Or better yet, the interns, seeing as they have nothing to do but watch me play chess all day.

But when I saw who approached the counter, the clipboard in my hands became hugely unnecessary.

“Hi.” She whispered, the corners of her mouth curving into what looked like a smile. But I knew her well enough to know that it was the forced, polite type of smile. And that was when I knew that this was the moment I was supposed to apologize for walking out earlier. Right now, I was supposed to forgive her for kissing Travis and tell her that everything was going to be okay and that I still love her. I was supposed to fix everything. But I knew that if I opened my mouth right now, none of those words would come out. Anger would take over, and she would hate me.

Chelsea POV

"Look, Chelsea. I really don't think we should be talking right now." His eyes were hollow, like he couldn't even look at me. The feeling made my stomach drop to the floor. I didn't realize how much it would hurt if he refused to look at me. I was beginning to realize how much I relied on the little things, like how the corners of his eyes would crinkle in amusement whenever he looked at me. I would give anything for that feeling right now. But all I got was emptiness.

"Five minutes." I said, watching his eyes shift to the ground. My insides dropped further, if that were even possible.

I watched his jaw tense, like he was struggling to find the willpower not to look at me. "You aren't listening to me. I am still pissed off and I will say something I don't mean. I don’t want that.”

The thought didn't occur to me that he would ever say something that would deliberately hurt me. Never in his right mind would he consider uttering harsh words toward me. He'd only done it once before, when he was drunk and pissed off about something Travis said. It was ironic that this was the reason we were fighting again. Except this time, I was going to be the one begging for forgiveness.

"Two minutes." I pleaded, "Two minutes is all I'm asking for and then I'll leave you alone." The thought of reaching for his arm itched the back of my mind but I pushed it away. He didn't want me talking to him, so touching him was probably not a good idea either.

He exhaled sharply and looked past me. “I can’t-“

“Alright Dr. McHale! I will only give you this cup of coffee if you can correctly state my name. And here’s a hint, it is not Brandon.” A bulky guy with scrubs on walked around the hallway and stopped when he saw me. He looked a few years older than Dexter, so he was probably an intern.

“Hello.” He smiled, his eyes traveling between Dexter and I, then settling on me. “Let me guess, sore throat?”

“Brandon.” Dexter said, his eyes trained on me. “This is Chelsea. Chelsea, Brandon.”

“Bradley,” He smiled, extending his hand toward me. “Nice to meet you. I’m a Doctor.”

“Congratulations.” I said and he blinked, his eyes scanning over my face. He looked at me the way guys from the bar would look at Nicole when she pushed past them to order her martinis. And based on the way Bradley’s scrubs clung to his shoulders, I could tell that he was probably one of those guys at the bar at one point in his life.

“You have very nice eyes.” He said and I coughed, suddenly uncomfortable with his close proximity to me.

“Let me clarify something,” Dexter suddenly said from behind me. “Brandon. This is Chelsea. Chelsea is my girlfriend.”

Bradley’s eyes widened and he pulled his lips into a thin line. “If we could just forget about what I said two minutes ago, that would be great. I mean, I’m not saying that you don’t have nice eyes because you do. You do have nice eyes. It’s just, not right here and right now with your boyfriend standing 4 feet away from me. Your boyfriend is my resident.”

“Brandon.” Dexter said and Bradley’s eyes darted toward Dexter’s direction. “Go check on my patients.”

“Yes, Dr. McHale.” Bradley stuttered and walked out the sliding doors. Poor guy.

I turned toward Dexter and he breathed deeply, the palms of his hand moving to rub the back of his neck.

He just called me his girlfriend, so that’s a good sign, I guess. At least now I know that he isn’t breaking up with me.

“You wanted to talk.” He said.

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and he nodded, making his way around the front desk and walking past me toward the waiting area. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“No one has come in all morning. Two minutes, right?” He said, taking a seat and I moved to the seat in front of him. I didn’t want to risk taking the seat next to him. He pulled away from me this morning and I didn’t want to risk that happening again. It would probably hurt twice as much.

“Right.” I said, watching him lean forward to rest his elbows on his knees. I took a second to look at him, and I mean really look at him. The dark circles under his eyes screamed that he hadn’t slept at all last night. I don’t think I realized that before, when we were in his apartment. I wondered what had kept him up so late. His hair was longer than usual. It made him look older, like his brother, older than that, even.

“You’re growing out your hair.” I said and he moved his hand up to touch his hair, like he wasn’t aware it was even there.

“I don’t know, I didn’t realize how long it was.” He said, his voice tired and monotonous. I lacked the authenticity and charm that was always there. I guess I lost that privilege.

He was only giving me two minutes, I reminded myself.

“We both changed.” I said, and he didn’t move. I wasn’t sure if I said that as a question or as a statement. After he didn’t say anything, I realized that it was a statement.

“I was a heartless bitch that had never respected or loved anyone. You probably still think I’m a bitch after what I did. But believe it or not, you changed me. I’m not the same person anymore. I love you and I respect you and above all else, I appreciate you. It was so hard for me to say those things before. It was always you saying them, and I don’t think I told you enough how I felt about you. But I’m saying it now, and it’s not because of what I did. It’s because I’m scared. I’ve always been scared. But before I met you, I was always afraid of people getting too close. I was afraid of people getting too close to me that I couldn’t walk away. And now there’s you. You’re here and I’m scared shitless. And it isn’t because I’m afraid you’ll get too close. It’s because I’m afraid of losing you,” My breathing was heavy, the confession taking all of the air out of my system. I didn’t plan on everything coming out the way that it did, but once I opened my mouth, it’s like I couldn’t stop. Everything I had been keeping in since I met him, it all came pouring out and it’s like I had no control.

He still wasn’t looking at me and I was reminded of a time when I was little and I would hold my breath until my father paid attention to me. All I wanted at that moment in time was for Dexter to look at me, if only for a second. One glance was all I needed for everything to feel right in the world. But I knew that I didn’t deserve it. A look like that needed to be earned.

“The ball was never in my court,” I said and for a second he looked like he was going to look at me, but then the moment passed and his eyes stayed on the floor. It was quiet for a while, and then I remembered that I promised he didn’t have to say anything. It was probably my queue to leave.

I made a move to stand up, but then he cleared his throat.

“It all feels like words.” He said, finally looking at me. And it’s like the ice that was in his eyes before was broken and once again, all of his emotions could be conveyed with just one look. And the look on his face was something like a stab to the chest. All of his pain was my pain. And he was dying.

“Do you remember when I first told you about Monica?” He said and I nodded. “I told you that I wasn’t going anywhere. That you weren’t competing with anyone and that you’d never have to.”

I remembered. We were on the side of the road and there were cars rushing past us, but I remember all of it, every word. I believed every word.

“It was true.” He said, standing up. But his eyes never left mine. “It still is true.”

“I believe you.”

He nodded, and his eyes dropped to the ground. Just like that, it’s like the connection was lost and I was empty inside.

“The thing is, I feel like if you were to say that to me, I wouldn’t believe you.”

And then his eyes were protected again, the unbreakable ice.

—-

“Ouch.”

“Nikki.”

“What? Look me in the eyes and tell me that was not your same exact reaction.” She said in between bites of her ice cream sandwich. I told her that the ice cream probably was not healthy for her, considering her state of being. But leave it to Nicole to not give a crap.

“You are just generalizing everything to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” She scoffed and I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe not to you. Dexter doesn’t trust me. That is a big deal.” I muttered, my grip on the steering wheel tightening.

She is my friend. I can’t kill my friend.

“Look, all I’m saying is that if Gabe were to say that to me, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.” She said, waving her ice cream sandwich in front of me.

“Yes, because your relationship has worked out so well thus far.”

“I haven’t kissed Travis yet.” She shrugged.

I rolled my eyes and made a sharp right turn just so that she would have no choice but to grab hold of the dashboard to steady herself.

“You are such a bitch.” She said with her mouthful as she flipped me off.

“I am driving you to your OB/GYN right now so I would put a cork on the name calling, alright, missy?” I narrowed my eyes and turned into the parking lot of the doctor’s office. After she booked the appointment, Nicole begged me to come with her just so she wouldn’t have to go alone. It’s not like I would have refused, but she could have been at least a little more appreciative instead of making me stop at three gas stations because none of them had the kind of ice cream she was craving. I am her friend, but god damn, at least give me a thank you.

We walked into the doctor’s office 15 minutes late. By the time we were finally shown to the exam room, we were 30 minutes behind schedule because Nicole had to search through the bottom of her purse to find her insurance card. When the doctor came in, I offered to step outside. When I checked my voice mail, I saw a missed call from my brother.

“Hey, Chels. Serena and I are coming back to New York in a few days, you know, so that she can meet the parents and all that stuff. We’re staying there for about a week, so it would be nice if you could come on down. Serena’s looking forward to meeting you in person. Give me a call back when you can. I miss you, brat.”

The doctor called me back into the room and I reminded myself to call Marc when I got back to my apartment. I’d have to ask Sandra about getting the week off of work, but the thought of going back to New York makes me excited. It would be even more exciting if Dexter decides he wants to go with me.

When I walked back into the exam room, Nicole looked irritated and I knew it was because she hates going to the doctor. More specifically, I think she just hates her doctor. And it made sense, the doctor acted a lot like Nicole’s mom. She was the nagging type, always scolding Nicole for not eating healthy or exercising enough. Nicole hated being told what to do.

“What did she say?” I asked and she rolled her eyes.

“You know, the usual. I need to eat more vegetables and exercise more and take my vitamins. What a bitch.”

“Okay, okay. And what about the b-a-b-y.”

“You say it like it’s a secret.” She winced, pulling her shirt over her head. “I’m 8 weeks. My sonogram is next Tuesday. You’re coming, right?”

She said it like it was no big deal, but hearing it was completely different than thinking about it. It was real. Nicole is pregnant. Her sonogram is next week. I’m coming with her.

“What about Gabe?” I said and she was quiet as she buttoned her jeans. I noticed the slight bulge of her stomach, but nothing too noticeable. For a second, I thought she didn’t hear me.

“The paternity test results are being mailed to me. I’m craving tacos.” She said, shrugging on her jean jacket and pushing open the exam room door.

There was one thing about Nicole that has not changed in all the years that I’ve known her, nothing phased her.