Kiss of Life (tumblr prompt) Chapter Text

He approached quickly, pushing aside with an inappropriate abruptness the onlookers who crowded the street. He hated them, always getting in the way and hindering the doctors' work and doing absolutely nothing to help, just looking so they had something to talk about with their neighbors.

They had told him that it was a collision and that someone was injured, then another person told him that a car had collided with a cyclist, and when he saw the light blue of a uniform he knew it was someone from Nonnatus.

A selfish feeling coiled in his chest.

"Anyone except her," he prayed in his mind.

He recognized Nurse Franklin's blond hair. She was always very lively and skilled, but his blood ran cold at the sight of her completely desperate, unable to move and stop crying.

"Doctor I don't know what happened," the girl moaned and he barely looked at her.

"Anyone except her," he prayed again, but his wish was not granted.

She was on the floor.

He had been fighting so hard to keep those feelings from growing, but it was all to no avail. It didn't matter what he did or what happened, always, at every moment, he was thinking about who he shouldn't. She was a nun, she was completely forbidden.

And yet he loved her, and he gave his all to protect her.

His heart sank when he knew he couldn't do it, that protecting her had been impossible because some stupid boy had driven his stupid car into the stupidly narrow and poorly lit streets of Poplar and he hadn't seen either of the two women pedaling in the opposite direction. And the stupid man instead of slowing down, had gone on his way, running over the only person in the world who did not deserve that.

He knelt beside her, it seemed like an eternity but it was only a small second that he used to slowly caress her frozen forehead. Her veil was on the ground, dirty and torn, and there was blood, too much, too much. Nurse Franklin had the glasses in her hands when she knelt next to him.

"They hurt her face," she explained in a sob that made him react. He had been enchanted by the beauty of her without them, with her blond hair, with the dewdrops adhering to her fine white skin. She looked like a princess, like a sleeping fairy, like a sweet angel who shouldn't die tonight.

He took her hand, felt for her pulse, heard the cry of the blonde nurse next to him.

"Is she dead?" Trixie asked.

"No, no, no, don't say that!" he replied desperately, although he had found no sign of life on her wrist.

He jerked her habit away, searching for her slim and elegant neck, the one he so often dreamed of kissing gently.

"No, no, damn it!" he took her inert face, searching for a smile, a look, something that would tell him that she was there as always, "Please, sister!"

Then his anguish and his medical mind mingled, and he found himself with his mouth on hers. He didn't dream this, it wasn't how he ever expected to touch her lips, but he had to. He breathed all the air he could into her, putting all his effort and love. I need you, please wake up.

There was no reaction. If love served anything, it must produce the miracle.

He tried again, ignoring the men removing their hats, the women silently moving their lips in prayer for the departed soul.

He heard a complaint, felt a slight movement under him. He barely pulled away, in his mouth he felt the warm air of her crashing against him. Hope grew and exploded when he saw the movement of one of her little injured hands and then the frown of pain.

"Sister Bernadette" he whispered and she half-opened her eyes.

A small smile formed on her bruised face and with painful slowness she lifted one of her hands to touch his face.

"Hello," she greeted him in a dry whisper, but with a new, huge and bright smile.

He could only answer her in the same way, stroking her wet and dirty hair.

"Hello my love."