Stevie Nash was a fighter. Her weapons were medical equipment and the sheer strength of her will.
Not every case that showed up in Resus was worth fighting for - the drunks and druggies throwing their lives away, people who pulled stupid stunts, the occasional abusive lout whose wife finally defended herself - but she fought for their lives anyway, because that was her job. And if she did her job, that meant there would be the cases where it felt good to save a life.
The hardest battles to lose were always kids. Even though she'd been through it hundreds of times, it never got easier.
This time, one looked like her sister Emma when she was young. She tried to keep her composure when the time of death was called - nobody could afford to have her break down on the floor - but as the moments passed it got harder and harder to concentrate.
Max finally pulled her aside. "Stevie," he said, "go get a coffee or take a walk or... go meditate, or something."
Stevie rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine. And I need you to be closer to fine, OK?" Max walked off but looked over his shoulder and wagged a finger. "Please."
Stevie exhaled. If Max Cristie was saying please, then she knew she was probably in a worse way than she thought. Still, she was annoyed. "Go meditate," she muttered under her breath in a mocking singsong voice. "Feckin' gobshite."
And yet, her footsteps took her in the direction of the chapel. She hadn't set foot in a church since she left Ireland years ago, but here she was, ducking into a pew. Making the sign of the bloody Cross and reverting to the prayers of her Catholic upbringing, for that poor girl's family - the sister especially - and then, a prayer for Faith, who was in such a bad way.
Before she could finish her prayer, she felt a set of eyes on her. She clenched her fists. "Cristie, I swear to God -"
"Er, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. Carry on."
That wasn't Max's voice. It was male, but had an Irish accent like hers. And sounded... familiar.
Stevie turned her head and her jaw dropped. "Father Dougal?"
She hadn't seen Father Dougal McGuire since the 90s when she was growing up on Craggy Island, and he had aged a bit since then - his once-auburn hair was now greying, his once-trim figure had some paunch, his face was more lined - but she would recognize her first girlhood crush anywhere. And he was still not bad to look at, in his early fifties. Stevie's heart skipped a beat.
"Oh, ah, do I know you?"
"Right," Stevie said. She rose to her feet and put out her hand. "Stephanie Nash. I used to attend your church."
"Small world, innit?" Father Dougal shook her hand.
Stevie sat back down, face on fire. "This is quite unexpected, yes."
"As nice as it is to find someone from Craggy Island out here in the big city, I should probably leave you to your prayer," Father Dougal said with an apologetic shy smile, taking a step back.
"Oh, it's fine. To be honest, the prayer was force of habit. I don't think I even believe in God." Stevie clapped her hand over her mouth - she knew she was a loose cannon and that didn't make her any friends, but something about popping off in front of a priest made her feel a touch of guilt.
Father Dougal laughed. "I don't know if I believe in God either."
"Really." That wasn't something Stevie had been expecting to hear. "You probably don't want to advertise that, Father, I hear Pope Francis is pretty liberal but that doesn't mean -"
"That doesn't mean he's an eejit who expects people to never doubt and always accept things at face value." Father Dougal shifted his weight on his feet, looking around awkwardly. Then he said, "Stephanie... er, Dr. Nash -"
"Stevie."
"Stevie. Can we sit for a moment?"
Stevie sat back in the pew, and Father Dougal sat a respectful distance away in the same pew. After a moment of silence, Father Dougal said, "We can't prove God exists, right? I think religion got started because people want to believe that when you die, there's not nothing, that you'll see your loved ones again when they pass on - like I hope I'll see Father Ted and Father Jack again someday - but some other people decided they could exploit this wish and make up a bunch of rules and profit from it, yeah?"
"Why are you a priest, if you're not sure there's a God, or anything beyond the world we live in?"
"Why are you a doctor, if you can't save every life?"
The tears she'd been holding back finally came. Father Dougal quietly got up, walked to the cross, and came back with a box of tissues. This time he sat closer to her and put a reassuring hand on her arm as she buried her face in a wad of tissues, trying not to cry aloud, trying to keep it contained as much as she could, but she raged with the injustice of what had happened to Emma, what had happened to the little girl who coded today -
"A long time ago," Father Dougal said, "there was a wise man named Shiny Mark, and he said something like: Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones."
"That's deep," Stevie said, impressed - she had always thought Father Dougal was a bit barmy, in a weirdly cute way. Then she remembered a history class, which felt like ages ago. "Marcus Aurelius." She found herself laughing through her tears.
"Yeah, I don't know who that bloke is. Anyway. I can't prove God exists, so I don't think I really believe in Him. The Loch Ness Monster, on the other hand, is totally real no matter what Ted said, so."
Stevie laughed again, especially at the super serious look on Father Dougal's face.
"But whether or not God exists," Father Dougal went on, "I believe in kindness. Back when I was a young priest and made lots of mistakes, Father Ted was kind and patient with me."
Stevie remembered seeing Father Ted Crilly clip Dougal about the ear once after a service, so she wasn't so sure of that, but she kept her mouth shut.
"I am a priest because I try to inspire people to be kind. Not just to others, but to themselves." Father Dougal looked Stevie in the eye. "Do you need a confession? Might do some good to get a weight off."
"No," Stevie said. Then, feeling suddenly, strangely emboldened, she said, "Well, there is one thing."
Father Dougal got up, but before he could lead Stevie out of the pew and around to the confessional, Stevie said, "You were my first crush."
"Was I?"
"Yeah." Stevie nodded.
"Oh." Father Dougal nodded.
They kept nodding, nodding, nodding, laughing nervously, and then Stevie said, "I don't suppose you would want to go for a pint when my shift is over?" She didn't know that it would necessarily lead to anything - even if Father Dougal didn't believe in God, that didn't mean he didn't keep his vows either - and she wasn't sure now was the right time for her to be jumping into bed with someone regardless... but for a little while, she could use some company from home.
From the old days before Emma's health went to shite.
"I could have a drink in memory of Father Jack, sure," Father Dougal said, nodding.
"OK." Stevie smiled. "Thank you. You were... kind of helpful." She looked around to make sure nobody had witnessed her paying a compliment.
She stopped in the restroom before she got back on the floor to wash her face, take a few deep breaths, and steel herself to keep fighting, even if the next battle would be another loss.