Chapter Text
Beatrice pauses at the door to the hospital room, glancing over the file in her hand again. Even though she has already memorised the contents, she runs over the key facts one more time.
Ava Silva, 25.
Brought in four days ago following a truck colliding with her car.
Suspected incomplete acute spinal cord injury. Sensations and mobility are impacted but swelling is still too severe to diagnose at this stage. Long-term care plan needed as recovery will be lengthy.
3 months postpartum, son was in the car but is uninjured. Care will need to be arranged.
Beatrice takes a deep breath. These kinds of cases are always some of the hardest, but most rewarding.
Steeling herself, she knocks on the door before stepping into the room.
Even though she knows from the file that Ava is young, she is unprepared for just how small the woman looks surrounded by all of the monitors. She is asleep, her dark hair tangled on the pillow and sticking up weirdly around her ears, under her nasal cannula. The blankets are pulled up to her chest, one arm tucked in and the other at her side, hooked up to IVs.
Beside the bed, one of the bassinets from the maternity ward has been wheeled in. At three months old, Ava’s son is almost too big for the little cot, but Beatrice supposes it is the easiest way to keep him safe in the room with Ava.
The boy watches Beatrice with honey eyes as she gets closer, kicking his chubby little legs in excitement. His skin is more tanned than Ava’s, his little patch of hair so dark it’s almost black.
Beatrice reaches down and lightly tickles his tummy, earning more leg kicks and adorable little coos. “Aren’t you a handsome little guy?” Beatrice whispers, pulling faces to make him giggle.
“Diego,” a soft voice says from behind her.
Beatrice spins, surprised. Ava is blinking at her slowly, a small smile on her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’re awake.”
Ava’s dark eyes are still hazy as they give Beatrice a once over, either from sleep or the no doubt very heavy painkillers. “You don’t look like the other doctors.”
With her black slacks, button up shirt and no-nonsense bun, Beatrice knows she could fit in with any of the doctors in the hospital, but she bites back her disagreement. “I’m not a doctor.” She gestures towards the chair beside the bed. “Do you mind if we have a talk?”
“Go ahead,” Ava says, then grimaces and clears her throat. “Although if you want me to talk much, I might need something to stop my throat feeling like sandpaper.”
“I’ll be right back.” Beatrice ducks out into the hallway and, after confirming with the nurse that Ava can have water, comes back with a small cup and a straw. “Here we go, can I hold this up for you?” Ava nods, and Beatrice moves over to hold the straw out for her.
“Thank you,” Ava says once she has drained the cup.
“You’re welcome.” Beatrice puts the empty cup on the bedside table and takes her spot in the guest chair. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Beatrice Young, and I’m a member of the care team here at the hospital. Basically, this just means that I’m here to try to make your stay as comfortable as possible, all things considered, and help you sort out any logistics for your treatment.”
Diego starts to whimper in the cot, and Ava’s gaze snaps over to him. “Sorry, hopefully he’ll settle in a moment and you can continue.”
“Not to worry, I’m also here to help coordinate his care while you’re a patient here.” Diego’s whimpers turn into cries, and Beatrice can see Ava’s eyes start to water. “If you’re comfortable with it, I can try to soothe him if you like?”
Ava’s eyes are wide as they flick back to her. “Are you sure?” Beatrice nods, and Ava’s eyes close. “Then yes, please.”
Beatrice gently picks Diego up out of the cot, cradling him close to her chest. He immediately quietens, tucking his head in against her, and she rocks him softly as she moves back to her seat, surprised when he is asleep within barely a minute.
“Thank you,” Ava mutters, her voice cracking and a tear slipping down her cheek. “I can’t go over there to pick him up, and I’m not even allowed to hold him right now. He cries and I can’t do anything, I just have to lie here.”
Beatrice glances between the boy in her arms and Ava’s distraught expression, and is struck with an idea. “Can I try something?”
Ava looks confused, before nodding slowly. “Sure?”
Moving closer to the bed, Beatrice shuffles her hold on Diego slightly so that she can hold him out while still supporting his head and neck. She leans forward, reaching out so that Diego’s small face is pressed to the skin of Ava’s neck and shoulder but she is still holding all of his weight.
Ava’s shoulders shake with soft sobs as she slowly brings her hand up from under the blanket to gently run her fingers over Diego’s cheeks and through his hair. She nuzzles into him and Beatrice knows that, no matter how much her back or arms start to ache, she won’t move until Ava is ready.
Beatrice has lost track of how much time passes before Ava drops her hand back to the bed, looking up to meet Beatrice’s eyes.
“Thank you,” she rasps, for the third time in their short interaction. “That can’t have been comfortable for you.”
Beatrice settles back into the chair, holding Diego close to her chest again. “It wasn’t about my comfort. I can only imagine how difficult the last few days have been for you, and the least I could do is give you a way to hold your son.”
Ava shakes her head. “I’ve never had someone show me that kind of consideration before. Thank you, Beatrice, really.”
Beatrice flushes, not used to taking thanks and compliments. “Your comfort and consideration is my job, Ava.”
“That definitely seems like it was more than just your job.”
“Perhaps that was also my pleasure,” Beatrice admits. “I know that most people are here during the worst time of their lives, and I like to do whatever I can to make it a little bit easier for them.”
“We’re all lucky to have you,” Ava says, her eyes soft as she watches Diego sleep in Beatrice’s arms.
Beatrice hums. “Well, talking about my job, I do have a few things to run through with you if that’s all right?”
“Of course, sorry we got distracted.”
“Not at all. Since we’re already on the topic, shall we start with Diego?”
Ava’s expression immediately shutters in apprehension. “What about him?”
“Do you have someone that you can call to come and take care of him, at least until you are discharged?”
Ava looks down at her lap sadly. “No. I’m new in town and don’t have anyone.”
“There’s no one from out of town you could call?” Beatrice internally winces at the presumption of the next part, even though she has to ask. “What about his father, or other parent?”
“Oh, god no,” Ava gasps. “I told him I was pregnant and he said that it was up to me if I wanted to keep him, but he wants nothing to do with him and to not put him on the birth certificate. So he’s not an option. I don’t have any family, and all of my friends were his father’s friends. They’re not good people and I left them all behind for a reason.”
“I understand,” Beatrice says. As she looks down at Diego’s sleeping face, she can’t help but wonder how his father could willingly choose to give him up. “In these cases, normally what happens is we contact Child Protective Services and the child is placed in temporary foster care-”
“No!” Ava interrupts sharply, eyes suddenly frantic. “No, I won’t let that happen to him.”
“Ava, I can assure you that-”
“No! You don’t understand. I was in foster care, and the things that I saw, the things that I heard … I can’t let that happen to him. Please, Beatrice.”
As Beatrice stares at Ava, trying to decide what to say next, she can see that it is unadulterated fear in her eyes now. This went beyond the usual issue of not wanting someone else to raise their child. This was pure terror.
“I can’t make any promises,” she says eventually. “At the end of the day, it’s not my call. But let me see what I can do to make alternative arrangements.”
“I’ll appreciate anything you can do, really,” Ava babbles, wiping at her eyes with a shaking hand. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t afford to pay anything - as it is this is going to be rough for me - but I’ll owe whoever or do whatever I need to to keep him safe. I just can’t let him go into the system, even for a little while. I can’t do that to him.”
Beatrice gives her a moment to compose herself, before they begin discussing the specifics of Ava’s care and recovery. Her situation is severe - it will be weeks, if not months before she can be discharged, with years of physical therapy to follow - and Beatrice wants to make sure that she is prepared mentally. She knows that the doctors can be technical, somehow both too vague and too detailed in their explanations, and her aim is to make sure Ava understands as much as possible.
Beatrice is normally extremely thorough with her cases, but knowing that Ava has no one else fills her with a more urgent need to make sure she can help her find a support network who can help her through this.
It is over an hour later when Beatrice puts the sleeping Diego back in his cot with a promise to return shortly, and heads upstairs to her manager’s office.
Suzanne glances up at her knock before returning to her paperwork. “Beatrice, come in and take a seat. I’m assuming you’ve been working on the Silva case?”
“I have.” Beatrice nervously perches on the edge of the chair in front of Suzanne’s desk.
“Have you discussed the care options for her son?”
“We did discuss him, yes.” Beatrice nervously clears her throat. “And I have an unusual request.”
At her tone, Suzanne puts her pen down and folds her hands on the desk. “Yes?”
“I would like to apply to become his guardian.”