A/N: OK, I know...another story. But this one wouldn't leave me alone, I'm afraid. I'm not quite sure how long I intend it to be either. All I have planned is that not everything Hanssen was told as a child was entirely true...but that's all you're getting to know for now :P
The first pieces of Swedish are Melissa saying, "Please, help me!" and Hanssen saying, "Calm down." After that, whatever is in italics is them speaking Swedish.
The woman yelled, screamed in agony, again. She was lying on a bed on AAU, doubled over in pain. Only no-one could understand her. Chrissie attempted desperately to administer her painkillers, but she always threw Chrissie's hand away from her, as if she did not want her to give her any drugs. She begged in a language the doctors and nurses could not understand. "It is not Ukrainian or Russian," Frieda sighed after being sent to check by Sacha. "Her name is Melissa, I think."
"This is getting us nowhere," Sacha groaned. "She doesn't speak a word of English." The glanced over at her, wondering where she was from, why she was in this unfamiliar country, what had brought her here. She looked about thirty-seven or thirty-eight, with almost-black, very curly hair and eyes that were an odd, extremely dark, shade of blue-green.
"Snälla, hjälp mig!" she screamed. Luc's head snapped up at this. He knew that phrase, from a holiday, when a woman had been about to give birth on the street.
"Get Mr. Hanssen," Luc told Frieda urgently. She obliged and phoned up to the Director of Surgery, telling him he was needed on AAU, immediately. It was only a mere matter of a couple of minutes before he was on the ward and, as Luc had expected, his attention was turned almost instantly on the screaming woman.
"Lugna ner dig," he said soothingly. He restrained her while Chrissie injected her with a painkiller. Melissa slowly began to stop shouting as her pain was eased somewhat.
Chrissie then turned on Luc. "Swedish? How did you know?" she demanded of him.
"I once heard a woman screaming in the middle of Stockholm," Luc answered. "Turned out she had gone into labour." Hanssen smiled quietly to himself. He asked the woman her name, wondering why she appeared to him as familiar, even if extremely vaguely. Perhaps it was simply the use of the Swedish language.
"Melissa Nilsson," she said extremely quietly, as if afraid to speak. He spoke again in Swedish to her, the equivalent of, "I'm the Director of Surgery at Holby." She gave him an odd look. She seemed to shroud away from him slightly, almost instinctively. "Now, can you tell me exactly what is hurting so badly?"
She regarded him with guarded eyes, being very careful about this man she had just encountered. There was something about him that frightened her, not least that he had immediately spoke to her in her native language. "My chest, it's agony," she finally revealed to him. He took a listen as she continued to glare at him, trying to figure out why he intimidated her. No man, not her husband, her uncle or, when she was very small, her father and brother, had ever got anywhere by trying to make her feel uncomfortable. But this doctor hadn't even told her his name, only his title. Was she found most unnerving was that there were things about him that were familiar. The way he held himself, his extreme composure and, most of all, his dark eyes...it was all so well-known to her.
Hanssen turned to Chrissie and told her, "Get her transferred to Darwin, please. The problem seems to be an aortic stenosis, so have Mr. Hope on standby to see to her." She nodded and went to phone up to Darwin. In the meantime, Henrik turned back to the patient. "Now, I know you're in pain, but do you speak any English?" he asked her.
She took a breath and replied, "Yes." She paused and thought about how to describe how she had forgotten her second language. "I cannot remember it well when I am in pain or I am very distracted. I still have not mastered that yet," she smiled at him. It was an uneasy smile; she was still cautious of him, still trying to place his features and personality into her memory.
"Thank you," he answered politely. "That will make my staff's job easier. It's unfortunate that I seem to be the only member of staff here who can speak Swedish. Though, Mr. Hemingway seems to recognise it, even if he isn't able to speak in the language," he added. "You are going to be taken up to Darwin Ward, which is our cardiothoracic ward here. I assure you that Mr. Hope, Miss Naylor and that other staff up there will take excellent care of you."
"Are you from Sweden?" she asked suddenly.
"I am," he confirmed. "I was educated here since I was nine years old. I only ever went back to Stockholm for the holidays while I was at school," he said. "Are you here on holiday, or have you moved here?" he enquired politely, making conversation to distract her from the worry of her pain and ill-health.
"I moved here six years ago, with my husband and my oldest daughter, Evelina. Then, four years ago, Siri, my youngest was born here. For some reason, I still have not managed to get the language thing right," she sighed.
A porter turned up to take Melissa away to Darwin, and Hanssen decided he would go with her, even if just to help Elliot with her accent. The only reason Hanssen fully understood her was because he was completely used to hearing others speak English in such a heavy accent. And he felt a strange need to protect her, not that he would let on to anyone about that. She was familiar to him, her unusual eyes in particular struck a cord with him. It brought back memories of a little girl of around four, running around the living room at Christmas, just before his, their, mother died.
He shook that idea from his head. That was near enough impossible; he had last heard from his sister when he was eleven years old, before his father cut off all contact with Henrik and Melissa's aunt and uncle, and therefore Melissa herself. He insisted that Melissa was better off not knowing her father, and Henrik couldn't really disagree with him. He was always an irrational man, with an addiction problem, with an apparent inability to take over the care of his little girl when his wife died, even if he would not lay a finger on his children. Henrik's aunt had allowed him to remain with his father, because he spent most of his time in England and he was old enough to look after himself when she finally put her foot down. And her name being Melissa, that same name as his baby sister's, was a mere coincidence...it was a fairly common name in Sweden.
So, as she was wheeled onto Darwin, Melissa paid little attention to Henrik's look of reminiscence. She was here to get better and then go home to her husband and her children...but she could not shake the feeling of knowing him. And she knew his eyes...it was his eyes that made her wonder. Wasn't this why she came to England in the first place?
Hope it was alright!
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