Eight Hearts, Two crosses
Three times for two minutes.
That’s what the book says. That’s exactly how often you have to wash your working appendages (those being wings, hooves, claws or hands, depending on the species) after this job.
Even though you wear rubber gloves and an apron, you have to wash them. The book is clear on that. It was equally clear on never using your mouth.
Nurse Coldheart followed this rule to the number.
Or rather: She followed this rule at least to the number.
Sometimes she needed more.
Sometimes the fact that she had just assisted cutting a dead body open, helped removing certain parts or organs and did her part in dissecting and analysing these parts was too much for three times for two minutes.
Sometimes the feeling of completely limp muscles, the smell of an opened stomach and the look of half-shut dead eyes seemed to cling to her. Then she needed more. More water, more soap, more disinfectant.
But assisting the coroner was part of her job. Ponyville Hospital was too small to host enough employees to have a fully specialized staff. So some less desirable jobs were swapped through every month. Some months, Nurse Coldheart would help in the library and sometimes she would support the physiotherapist. Well… most jobs were swapped through…
Because Nurse Coldheart would always do coroner duty. And when someone asked why, she just said that it was her calling. The true reasons were her own.
Six…
She had now washed her hooves six times for three and a half minute. The feeling was still not truly gone but what to do? It wouldn’t get any better at this point. She would just douse them in disinfect and go home. Tomorrow was her day off. She could take a long bath.
Slowly and sombre, she made her way out of the hospitals basement. It was already night-shift and the lights were about to be turned off. Just to the lockers, out of her work garb and home. Just home.
As she entered the locker room and headed for the laundry basket to discard her hat, she heard a soft whimper from the changing booths. A familiar whimper.
Supressing a sigh, Nurse Coldheart made her way towards the booth.
“Hey, somepony in there!” She asked loudly and knocked on the wood of the door.
*Sniff* “I’ll be done in a moment!” a too familiar voice came from the door.
“I don’t want in.” Coldheart answered quickly but added “But I think you should come out of there.”
The door opened slowly but steadily and soon it revealed the soft curves, pudgy cheeks and red-swollen eyes of Nurse Sweetheart. She sniffed, clearly having cried until moments ago.
Nurse Coldheart swallowed. Sometimes even doing coroner’s duty the whole year wasn’t enough to avoid this. “So… you were there?” she asked, trying to sound as gently as possible, even with her scratchy voice.
“I... was the one who found him…” Sweetheart answered slowly. Her ears were flopped down, her tail was hanging motionless, her nose was runny and she seemed on the verge of crying again.
“The report didn’t mention that you found him…” the yellow nurse said as gently and calmly as possible. It made her heart ache to see her usually cheery and happy co-worker like this.
“When… when I tried to find his pulse… the skin wouldn’t give in…” Sweetheart whispered eerily. “He was already… I mean… rigor mortis had set in.”
“Nothing anyone could do.” Coldheart answered, also lowering her gaze. Why hadn’t it been her to find him? She wouldn’t be sitting in there crying her pretty blue eyes out.
“I know… it… it happens…” the other nurse whispered. And Coldheart was sure that Sweetheart had been in there saying it again and again for a long time. “But it shouldn’t!” The gates broke and tears began to stream. “Maybe if we had looked in more often! He wasn’t even-“
Coldheart reached out, put her hoof under her chubby chin and lifted it so her tear-drowned eyes met hers. “Sweetheart! It’s called Sudden Foal Death Syndrome for a reason! Sudden! We can follow the rules, we can work against it! But we can’t stop it from happening completely! Even if we reduce it by 90%, there will always be a darn 10…” The nurse let out a sigh. She felt horrible. But it was not for the fact that an hour ago, she had helped the doctor to extract parts of the foal’s body to find out what exactly had caused the little guy to stop breathing. It was because this pony in front of her, a pony so kind and gentle, had to suffer. If Coldheart hadn’t seen how well her co-worker did with all other parts of their common profession, especially with sick foals, she would have told the chubby mare to stick to the laboratory. But there was always a chance of something like this happening. Coldheart too did her part to make that chance as small as possible. “Come out of that booth. You need to get that hat off your head.”
Sweetheart nodded very slowly. She followed her fellow nurse slowly, eyes on the ground and tears still bubbling in her eyes.
Coldheart meanwhile was thinking what to say next. She admired how deeply such a tragedy could affect Sweetheart. She did her name proud in every way.
The two nurses put their hats in the basket and made their way to the washing basins.
Coldheart could almost feel the tension in her pink friend as she tried to keep her composure. Sighing, the yellow nurse splashed some water in her face and rubbed her cheeks. Her eyeshadow had become slightly dull, but she spent the extra bit on the good stuff. It could take a bit of water. She liked being pretty, though not very many ponies appreciated it. Her demeanour was slightly frigid, even if she did try her best. And it certainly hadn’t worked with the pony for whom she had originally began wearing it.
“I wish I was more like you!” A sad voice suddenly broke her out of her musing.
Coldheart turned in surprise and looked at Sweetheart with big eyes. “What?” she asked stunned.
“I wish I could keep so collected and logical like you. You never crawl into the changing room and hide, hoping nobody comes in while you weep like a little filly.” The pink nurse muttered darkly. “You are a so much better nurse than me. Always professional, always collected and you can actually hold an amazing figure… because you don’t stuff yourself like a pig when something happens that you should be able to take!” Sweetheart sniffed loudly, unaware how every single word of hers had felt like a dagger in Coldheart’s chest. “Maybe… I should find a new job?”
Before she could draw another breath, Sweetheart felt two hooves grab her shoulders and push her against the wall next to the basin. Coldheart’s green eyes pierced hers and for the first time ever could she see tears in them.
“Don’t you dare to ever say that again!” Coldheart hissed and her voice was close to breaking. “You are a wonderful nurse! And more, you are a wonderful pony!” She said angrily, though it sounded as if the feeling came more from pain than rage. “Every day I see you trotting around with that happy smile on your face, eager to help any creature you might meet! Every day you spread happiness and joy around you! Every day I wish I could just enjoy a smile as much as you do instead of being here because I can stomach cutting into a dead foal without flinching…” And for the first time since they had met, Coldheart’s voice cracked and became even scratchier. “You are everything a nurse should be! And I think that being chubby makes you cute!” For the first time in ages, her emotions had gotten the better of her and they seemed unwilling to let go off Coldheart.
Sweetheart was still standing with her back pressed against the wall, her eyes teary, her breath shaky and nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. Coldheart suddenly closed in and pushed a gentle kiss on her lips. It was soft, it was quick, it was warm… and it felt too sweet.
Coldheart suddenly seemed in control of herself again and instantly let go off her co-worker. “Oh Celestia, sorry!” she babbled, a titanic blush on her cheeks. “I don’t know what came over me! I… I… what I-“
“Redheart was right!” Sweetheart suddenly exclaimed and Coldheart fell silent with confusion on her face.
“She… Redheart said that you started wearing eyeshadow and kept your hair open ever since the two of us had that month of night shifts!” the chubby nurse blurted out. “I said that she was crazy… that a beautiful filly like you would never fancy a fatty like me.”
“Stop saying that!” Coldheart hissed “I… I like how you look.” Her voice softened as she went on. “You are so soft and cute and sometimes, I just want to cuddle into you…”
Sweetheart looked at her co-worker, then her gaze dropped for a moment before she took a deep breath and spread her forelegs. “Then come here…”
Coldheart hesitated for a heartbeat. Then she moved in and pressed herself against the other pony, her arms stretching to reach around her. But she loved the softness of Sweetheart’s coat and body, the warmth that radiated from her and the fact that she could almost feel the other mare smile as they embraced. Coldheart let out a sigh of contentment and gently rubbed her cheek against the other mare’s shoulder. After a few seconds, she felt something tug at her hairnet and she pulled back a little to remove it. It fell off and Coldheart shook her head, making waves of blue on blue hair cascade over shoulders. She looked up, seeing how Sweethearts eyes widened and a cute, crimson blush invaded her features. It made her heart skip a beat and she let out a small giggle.
“I’m only pretty when I don’t speak, you know…” Coldheart tried to quip, but she was shut up by Sweetheart holding her close again.
"I listen to the crying of foals all month. Your voice is almost angelic compared to them." The pink nurse commented softly.
"You did that for me, didn't you?" Coldheart asked slowly, a strange realization hitting her.
"Just like you took coroner duty off my shoulders." Sweet answered and pressed a small kiss on Coldheart's head. The other pony relaxed slightly and pulled close again.
They stayed like this for minutes, enjoying the warmth and gentleness of each other, only concerned with the other pony’s heartbeat and the feeling of their coats rubbing over each other.
She wasn’t sure when, but at some point Coldheart pulled back again and smiled shyly at the other mare. “Erm… we could still catch a movie… I mean, if you want to…” she offered slowly.
Sweetheart smiled back but she let out a sigh. “That would be nice… but… sorry, I just want to go home, cry a bit and then go to bed. I mean… I like this here but…”
“Hey, it’s fine.” Coldheart answered, running her hoof over Sweetheart’s cheek “It just shows that you can’t keep yourself from caring. And that’s something that I… really, really like about you.”
The other pony nodded and leaned forward, resting her forehead against Coldheart’s. “How about we go out for brunch tomorrow? No hospital, no tears… no hairnet?”
Coldheart nodded softly. “That does sound nice…” she whispered back “But… can we stay like this for a few more minutes?”
Sweetheart let out a soft giggle and nodded, pulling Coldheart close again. “Sure…”
Author's Note
Please read this before commenting:
Yes, this needs an editor but it was just something I came up with and that I wanted to get out. Not something I would want to be edited and done "right".
And Yes, I should be working on "Between Day and Night" but something my muse kicks me and I have to write stuff relating to death and coping with it.
That being say: At the moment, I work at a hospital, learning to become a nurse and over time, I met a lot of other nurses. Now, when I re-watched "Read it and weep!", my brain instantly forged this headcanon of these two nurses being polar oposites of the trait. Sweetheart being a kind and all cuddly "people nurse", while Coldheart was a calm, slightly cold "Resistance nurse" who would do the more dark, yet necessary stuff. The rest came by itself.
And before you ask: Nurse Redheart is the balanced one. Kind, professional yet forceful when needed.
And yes: I killed a foal for the sake of shipping. I am horrible!
