Episode 16 (Serena Season 1)

The moment we're back inside the resort, Serena goes to work in the kitchen.

I watch her mash all the berries into a paste before straining it all through a cloth,

squeezing the juice into four different glasses.

It's intense work but I hang back to let her do it alone, not wanting to get in the way,

but when she picks up two of the glasses and leaves the others behind,

I quickly pick them up and follow Serena to the table where the guys are sitting.

(I did say I'd be her extra pair of hands.)

Serena: "Come on, Clyde."

Serena: "You have to drink this."

Clyde: "All of it? It looks like oil."

Serena: "Yes, all of it."

Serena: "And lucky for you, it tastes better than oil."

Arthur and TK take their cups without any complaint,

but Logan is resting with his head against the table, shoulders tensing up when I give one a light tap.

MC: "Hey. You awake?"

Logan: "I guess."

MC: "Well, that's a good thing."

MC: "I've got something to help you feel better."

MC: "Can you look at me?"

He groans but slowly raises his head, eyes sunken with exhaustion.

Logan looks far too pale, and I press the glass up to his mouth with urgency,

not wanting him to pass out before he drinks the juice.

MC: "Just get this down, okay?"

Logan: "..."

Logan: ", am I dying?"

MC: "No. No, you're not--"

(Not yet.)

(But he really doesn't need to hear that.)

Logan: "Where's Hope? I want to say my goodbyes."

Despite myself, I feel a smile tugging at my lips.

MC: "You're pretty attached to Hope, aren't you?"

Logan: "I built her with my own two hands."

Logan: "And if I'm gone, she won't have anyone who knows how she works..."

MC: "Logan, you're not going anywhere, okay?"

MC: "And Hope is hanging out behind you."

Logan turns sluggishly in his seat,

enough to see the drone hovering by his shoulder, letting out a calm little buzzing sound.

Hope bobs up and down a few inches in the air, and I can almost imagine it's imitating a wave.

MC: "See?"

Logan: "Yeah."

Logan: "Guess we're both still kicking."

I look up and see Serena has retreated to the back of the room,

using another rag to try and scrub the stains from the berries off her fingers.

(And it's not working very well.)

She tosses the rag aside and sighs, collapsing into the closest chair.

A distant look pervades Serena's eyes, staring past all of us while lost in thought.

(She's trying so hard.)

(The moment the fever passed, Serena wanted to go right back to work.)

(I know the apathy is a facade, even if she doesn't want anyone to see through it.)

(No one buys every spare second of time they can if they don't give a damn.)

A. Talk to Serena.

B. Help clean up.

---

B. Help clean up.

I pick up the empty glasses and go back into the kitchen, setting them down in the sink.

Stealing one more glance at Serena, I bite my lip.

(I shouldn't be worried about us when she's looking out for everyone else.)

(That's stressful enough without me making her freak out over a hug.)

(Ugh, that sounds so selfish.)

(I didn't even get sick!)

(No wonder she's backing off.)

---

TK: ", where'd you go?"

MC: "I'm coming, TK."

MC: "I was just getting the cups out of the way."

MC: "What do you need?"

TK: "I just wanted to talk."

TK: "You know, you were gone for so long and I was thinking..."

I let him continue on without interruption,

even if my mind starts to drift when TK starts detailing his plans for a friendship diary.

If it keeps him conscious, he can babble about anything he wants.

(The best thing I can do is put whatever Serena and I have on standby.)

(If the worst happens, I want her to be able to rely on me, not run away.)

After an hour, Serena and I shepherd the boys back to the lobby,

hoping more rest will accelerate their recovery.

But as time trickles by, the four of them keep shivering and refusing to sleep,

breaking out of the haze to mumble to one of us.

(It's not working.)

(Serena's taken everyone's temperature twice.)

Clyde: "Brr."

Clyde: "It's freezing in here."

Arthur: "It is, isn't it? Strange, because I can't feel any wind."

Arthur: "Perhaps this sland has unusual seasons as well."

Arthur: "Wouldn't that be absolutely fascinating?"

MC: "I'll go get some blankets."

Serena: "--"

MC: "You can stay and watch them."

MC: "You've been on your feet all day."

She doesn't say anything in reply,

but I take that as enough approval to go gather some blankets from around the resort.

I set the pile between the couches and start tucking in the guys one by one,

crossing my fingers that they'll curl up and sleep.

When I get to TK, he raises a brow, taking the blanket from my hands before wrapping it around himself,

and even a flicker of that familiar smirk gives me hope.

TK: "Since when are you playing nursemaid, huh?"

MC: "Since you had to be a pain in the ass and get sick."

MC: "But you'll be better soon."

TK: "Not while you're around, I won't."

(It's just a moment of lucidity.)

(Don't get too excited.)

MC: "You know, I missed the old you for some reason."

MC: "I'm trying to remember why."

TK: "I'm... you know..."

TK: "I'm tired."

TK's eyes flutter closed, a hint of sweat breaking out across his brow,

and I take a step back so he can fall asleep in peace.

The room is quiet except for the sound of everyone breathing,

and a creak from the floor from behind threatens to make me jump.

MC: "Serena. You almost--"

The teasing words fall away from my lips when I see the depths of exhaustion lining her eyes,

dark circles starting to take their hold.

I want more than anything to take Serena's hand, offer her my shoulder to lean on,

but I let my nails bite into my palm instead.

(Give her space.)

(Just be helpful.)

Serena: "It's late."

Serena: "You should get some sleep."

Serena: "I'll watch them overnight."

A. Let's do it in shifts.

B. I'm really not tired.

C. Are you sure?

---

A. Let's do it in shifts.

MC: "Why don't we split the difference? If we do it in shifts, we'll both be tired but not wiped out, yeah?"

MC: "I'll go first so you can get some rest."

---

Serena: "Don't make me repeat myself."

(Okay. Bad idea.)

MC: "But--"

Serena: "Go."

For a moment I stare at her, trying to cobble together the right thing to say,

but Serena doesn't even blink, shoulders stiff and resolute.

(...And arguing is just going to exhaust her more.)

(Damn it.)

MC: "Good night."

Serena: "...Good night."

Every step up to my room is reluctant,

and I keep holding out that she'll call me back down and change her mind until my back hits the bed.

Even sitting in the dark, feeling my legs and back ache from walking around all day, I can't sleep.

(Which kind of defeats the point of me being up here.)

(We're both going to be tired tomorrow.)

The moon stretches up high into the sky as I watch,

losing track of time until I finally give up and slip out of bed,

taking the stairs back down as quietly as I can.

I can make out the shapes of all the guys sleeping on the couches still, but there's no sign of Serena.

MC: "Wait, where did she--"

MC: "Oh my god."

Serena is sprawled across the floor behind one of the couches, hair askew and eyes closed.

I close the distance between us in a few quick steps, kneeling by Serena's side.

She's still breathing,

stirring with a groan when I brush her hair back from her face to see if the fever's come back.

(She's not warmer than usual.)

(She must have passed out on her feet from being so tired.)

Serena: "What?"

Serena: "...What time is it?"

MC: "Late."

MC: "Come on, we're going to bed."

Her eyes flutter as I carefully sling one arm over my shoulder and help Serena to her feet,

guiding her up the stairs in slow strides to make sure she doesn't trip.

By the time we reach her room, she's mostly walking by herself,

but I help Serena up onto the bed anyway.

I sit on the edge of the attress next to her, watching as dark eyes finally open all the way.

A pink flush lines Serena's face, and for a moment she looks so vulnerable,

exhaustion wearing her down to a fragile edge.

MC: "Hey."

Serena: "Hey."

Serena doesn't pull away when I cup her cheek, a faint heat radiating against my palm.

Serena: "Wait, I need to get back downstairs."

MC: "No you don't."

MC: "The others are fine, they're all asleep."

Serena: ", you don't understand--"

She tries to sit back up, but a light push against Serena's shoulder knocks her back down.

A frustrated huff of breath tells me exactly what she thinks of that,

but I'm not letting her go back on the stairs right now.

MC: "I know that doctors are supposed to be the worst patients, Serena, but you have to sleep."

MC: "You passed out down there."

Serena: "I can't let anyone die."

Serena: "I can't--"

Serena grits her teeth, making to sit back up again,

but I put both my hands against her shoulders,

keeping them firmly there until she relaxes back against the pillows.

A. Please just rest.

B. This isn't helping anyone.

C. I'm worried about you.

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B. This isn't helping anyone.

MC: "This isn't helping anyone."

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MC: "I know you're already doing your best, Serena."

MC: "You don't have to punish yourself."

My fingers slip upward to Serena's hair, passing over dark strands with slow strokes.

She closes her eyes for a moment before letting out a deep breath, subtly turning to meet the touch.

Serena: "Years ago, I had a patient."

Serena: "A woman in her forties."

Serena: "She'd had chronic medical conditions her whole life, and for years all we could do was stall."

Serena: "Pain management, therapy, that sort of thing."

Serena: "But even though her chance of recovery was so low, the chance of a cure so distant,"

Serena: "she always made the best of it."

Serena "She always teased me when I worked the late shift,"

Serena: "telling me I was young and should be out living my life."

Serena: "But I didn't."

Serena: "I worked every hour I could to help her, convinced her insurance to cover some clinical trials."

Serena: "And she got better."

Serena: "Well enough to leave the hospital."

Serena's smile appears for only a blink of an eye before disappearing again,

sadness weighing down her eyes as they meet mine.

Serena: "For a few days."

Serena: "Then she was suddenly admitted again, rushed to the ER."

Serena: "There was an unexpected reaction to her new treatment."

Serena: "Her condition deteriorated in hours... and then she was dead."

(Oh no.)

MC: "Serena. You tried your best to save her."

Serena: "I did."

Serena: "And it wasn't enough."

Serena: "We had a little celebration when she left the hospital the first time."

Serena: "I told her she was going onto a new stage in her life."

Serena: "But I was wrong."

My throat tightens as I fight back tears,

refusing to cry when I can see Serena struggling not to do the same.

MC: "I can't even imagine what that was like, Serena."

MC: "That's horrible."

Serena: "It's part of being a doctor."

Serena: "And it's worse when it could actually be your fault."

Serena: "Which is why I always exhaust every possibility but..."

Serena: "I learned to keep people at arm's length."

Serena: "I have to."

Serena: "If I get caught up in my emotions, I'll... stop."

Serena: "I'll be too afraid to act."

Serena looks away from me,

but the flicker of pain that twitches up the tight line of her jaw is all too obvious.

(...That's why she's been keeping her distance.)

(If she cares and then loses me, it will be too much.)

(She won't be able to protect anyone else.)

(So she has to protect herself first.)

There's a hundred things I want to say, starting with an apology,

but Serena's eyes have fallen closed again.

When her breathing falls into the even rhythm of sleep, I can't even consider waking her up again.

But I can stay.

And I won't leave her side.