TW: talk about self harm and suicide
*pão de queijo = Brazilian cheese bread
(aka the best food in the world)

Another longer chapter (4K words). I'm sorry again. Hope you enjoy it

•rock bottom / hailee steinfeld•
Oh, we're on the right side of rock bottom
And I hope we keep falling
We're on the good side of bad karma

''Time of death two forty-five a.m''

''Elena.''

''I know. Starting CPR.''

The stone skips the water. Once, waves spreading through the surface. Twice, like it's floating, as light as a feather. Three times, sinking right after.

And I try again.

My knees meet the wet ground as my fingers trail the stones around me. I look slightly up, my eyes finding Victor looking at me. The day has darkened, and the wind sways the trees around us.

''You're not wrong,'' I mutter, my eyes squinting as I observe his reaction. His jaw is clenched, but he manages to keep a laidback posture, his shoulders dropped. ''I did do it to myself. The cutting." And much more.

My left fingers curl around a medium stone, my other hand pushing me up. Anxiety runs through my veins, pumping my blood with adrenaline.

And I want to run.

But, instead, I slip my shoes off with my feet. And I walk ahead, my black socks soaking as I step in the water. Wanting nothing more for it to cleanse me, or at least, ground me so I can't run away once more.

''Don't worry, though,'' I say, looking over my shoulder, the icy water reaching my ankles. ''It was an accident, I even have a doctor's clearance that I'm not a danger to myself or others.'' I try to laugh, but it just comes out as a frustrated sound.

''Elena...''

''Have you seen the franchise A nightmare on Elm street?'' I ask, never letting him actually answer, ''In the movies, during your sleep, the bogeyman can kill you. So, the kids force themselves to stay awake, trying to survive and find a way to fight back.''

Our eyes are locked as I ramble. And in his irises, there is a grey flatness, just like the stones we keep throwing. The emotions skipping inside of him. Skipping out of me.

Some people bond with happiness. Others connect in the middle of a drunk night. We, apparently, are tied together in the rock bottom.

And as selfish as it may seem, I'm actually happy to have some company.

''In the movies, the kids slowly lose their minds. The thin line between reality and dreaming blurring.'' My fingers hold tight the stone, its edge piercing my palm. ''Do you know what happens with your body when you don't sleep?

''Changes of humor,'' I say, a rot taste swimming in my mouth. ''Difficulty in concentration.'' My tone poison as I continue, ''Loss of cognitive abilities.

''Mental breakdown.''

My fingers come to my mouth, forcing the acid down. Burning guilty, burning shame.

I throw the stone with all my strength, listening to its impact against the water as I face the waterfall now.

Have you been sleeping properly? How has been your emotional state these past few days? Claire's sweet tone echoes in my mind. And I close my eyes, too afraid to say the words aloud.

''I wasn't sleeping.'' My voice does not seem mine, it's so distant, so raw, ''A previous event, four months before it,'' I say, my fingers touching the hem of my shorts, the cut on my right thigh itching, ''caused me nightmares. So, I stopped sleeping.

''I was on-call one night, and there was a complication with a patient. She wasn't my patient, actually. Another surgeon fucked her surgery, clipping her aneurysm wrong. But I was the one called first when she started going south.'' I've said this story before, and like those times, my tone is robotic, like it was just any other case.

But it isn't any other case. It happened to me. And two months after, I still can't face it.

I inhale deeply. ''She died even before we had a chance to open her skull again. Hemorrhage, it happened so fast.'' I feel the water against my skin as I continue, ''I called the time of death. And that was it.

''But she was pregnant.''

My breathing hitches and I contract my muscles. Not daring to fall like the waters in front of me.

''The obstetrician team was called and they needed to do an emergency cesarean. However, till the baby is out, it still needs oxygen from the mom's blood. So, we had to make her heart keep beating, even if her brain was long gone.''

''You had to do CPR,'' Victor mutters.

I Look at him over my shoulder, nodding. His head is tilting to the side, his eyes studying me.

''I did CPR, pressing her chest up and down. I wish I could say I remember it all, but I don't. It's all a blur, reality and dreaming mixing after days of none sleep.'' I swallow, my head dizzy. ''What I do remember are the sounds. Her ribs breaking under me. The shouting in the room. The crying, it was a baby girl, and she was strong, her cries loud.

''The ribs kept breaking. I couldn't stop. I simply couldn't stop the compressions. My mind and body were not speaking the same language. And I felt frozen.'' My tone fades away, one lonely tear running down my cheek. Victor's steps move the water as he walks to my side, trying to convey some comfort.

It's too vulnerable. I'm too vulnerable. And I don't know if I can do this anymore.

But I look at his eyes, the sweetness of them. And the way he sees me. I want to slap him and tell him that he is the one that is dancing in the line between reality and dreaming. Because he looks at me, and I notice how he sees a girl that definitely isn't me.

My reflection in his eyes is from a strong woman. And I honestly don't know where he has gotten this delusional idea from. I want to ask him. But the words don't form on my lips.

Scars are only scars. Don't give them any deeper meaning.

I step back, needing to put a distance between us. ''The rest is all scrambled. Somehow, I stopped doing the CPR. I got off from her dead body. I stumbled on the instruments table. And all I can remember is the metallic echo from the instruments colliding against the other.''

I don't know if I keep my eyes open, being forced to see Victor's reaction in front of me. Or if I close them, facing the blurred memories. I blink quickly, instead. ''I wanted to take my bloody clothes off. And I, hmmm, I really don't know how things spiraled. One second, I was ripping my surgical coat off me. The other, my hand came down, fast.

''And only when I felt a liquid down my legs, the fear seeping down my nerves, was when I realized what happened.'' My chest tightens as the words slip through my mouth. I want to grab and pull them back down my throat. But they continue falling, running down in the middle of the waterfall.

''I was holding a scalpel. I don't even remember grabbing it. It pierced through my pants and my skin. I didn't feel it. I only listened to the sharp instrument hitting the cold floor after. And I only saw the blood, my blood.'' It pulled me to other times, a black hole in my mind.

My surroundings faded away. Mendes' trying to reach me. Claire's look of concern, being in the room to deliver the baby. The incessant beep sound of the machine. The crying of the just born girl. And Ian showing, hugging me tight.

''The rest is even more of a blur. My, hmmm.'' I don't know how to define it; some things are just too complex to put into words. Ian is one of them. ''My next of kin committed me to the psych ward. They pumped me full of benzos and antipsychotics, I slept for more than two days. It was amazing, I must say.'' I chuckle, Victor's piercing eyes flashing with emotions.

''I barely remembered the accident. Honestly, if people hadn't told me, I would swear it was all a dream.'' My voice is sweet, but it feels sour. ''The shrink asked questions, and I was cleared. I had a mental breakdown caused by sleep deprivation. And after sleeping I was okay again.''

It tastes as fake as it sounds. Okay again. Like some miracle had happened. Some sleep and everything was better – forever. What a fucking bullshit. But I let people believe it, I even let myself believe it. Lies are easier to swallow.

To be fair, the psychologist wanted to keep in touch. However, I denied it and he couldn't force me. He had to release me from the psych ward once I was good enough, sane.

Good enough is not better, though.

''My best friend stitched my thigh. And she moved in with me.'' I remember Chloe's blue irises, the skin beneath her eyes a deep blue too. The guilt and concern burned in her features.

And I should have eased her firing blame, but I never did. I let her live with me, though. Both of us in the immense apartment, it not being a home – not to her, nor me.

''I was put on a timeout for a couple of months after it, only assisting, not being authorized to actually perform any surgery.'' My feet move on the water as I talk, ''I was stripped off my freedom, sanity, and profession.'' A thin smile opens on my lips as I look at Victor, the rest of my face tense.

I remember how Ian's hands burned mine when I woke up in the white room of the psych ward. I loathed him for doing it to me. He was worried, but I didn't want to listen. Love and hate are separated by blurred lines too.

I also remember how he was the main reason for me being put on the bench, Ian thinking he knew what was best for me. And how he followed me around the hospital after. My loath only increasing. He always appeared in the galleries of the surgeries I was in, a second shadow following me just like in Ella's surgery.

He stopped having faith in me as a surgeon. And I did too.

''I wish I could say what made me travel was to take care of myself, be brave or whatever. But the truth,'' I say, forcing me to face the depths of my mind. Silently thanking Victor for being here, even though I shouldn't be thankful for this, I shouldn't want him here. ''The truth is that I was terrified of myself.

''The day I decided to travel was also the day I was finally authorized to perform surgeries again. And the patient, hmm, she died. Aneurysm too. Young girl. And for a second, I felt like I was falling deeper into the blurred lines once more, where reality and dreams are mere illusions.''

Ella's green eyes flash in my mind. And my eyes burn, remembering how close I was to lose my mind again. I simply couldn't let her go, the same way I couldn't let the pregnant woman go. The same way I can't let go of so many other things.

I finish the story, my throat throbbing like it's the first time I speak after months. Maybe, it's the first time I actually do. Slowly finding my voice again.

''Have you been able to sleep after it all? Or you simply said the right things to get back to your life, but deep down nothing changed?'' Victor's questions are sharp, but not in a judgmental way. He knows the answers already, and he wants me to face them as well.

Avoid, eat, try to sleep, and repeat. It's not that hard once it becomes a habit. And it's not that hard to make people believe you. If you say the right things, people will eat the lies. And they will sleep worry-free as you stay wide awake.

But once in a while, you find a person that sees past your bullshit. And it can be as terrifying and maddening as it's refreshing.

''You know a funny thing? The first night I actually could sleep for hours, and sleep for real, no nightmares, was after our talk on the beach.'' His eyes soften. I don't even realize the weight of my words till they reverberate between us. I don't want it to be true, it gives Victor too much power over me. But they are, and this truth is not that difficult to swallow.

He steps closer, his voice a mere whisper, ''You can always call me. I don't sleep much either, so we can not sleep together. Or whatever.''

I want to jump at his offer. It sounds too good. Too easy.

However, it also sounds too wrong. I shouldn't have easy peasy after everything that happened. And sure as hell, I shouldn't find it with Victor, another man that will be out of my life in three weeks.

''You do deserve happiness. And comfort. And peace,'' Victor says, stepping closer and closer till we are facing the other, the water rolling over our feet.

I look up, staring at his sweet eyes, a warm feeling spreading through me. But this time, it's not burning, it's comfortable. Too comfortable that it unsettles me. ''I can't dive headfirst in another complicated thing. And I can't use you as a crutch.''

''You have two fine legs, Elena. I'm not a crutch. And we don't need to be complicated,'' he answers, ''Or we already are.'' Both of us laugh, his dimples showing. ''And that is just how life is. Things happen. Feelings happen. Feel them.''

And I do. And it's overwhelming. Anger, sorrow, regret, emptiness. Hope.

Victor opens his arms, and maybe because he didn't force the touch, just silently showing me he is here, I step forward, melting in his chest. One of his hands comes to my back, the other finding my head.

''I used to have long, beautiful hair,'' I mutter, listening to his strong heartbeat. ''But after the crazy ward, my hair was all tangled, more knots than I could count. And I needed a change.''

His fingers release my hair from the ponytail, my waves brushing on my shoulders as his fingers caress my locks. I close my eyes, drinking on the warmth that reaches my heart.

And I don't feel frozen anymore.

''I...'' he starts, and I flinch thinking he will say he likes my short hair as if I need his approval. And maybe I want someone's approval, but I shouldn't need it. However, his mouth forms other words, a smile spreading on my lips, ''I'm sure you were beautiful with long hair.

''And if you ever need another change, I think you would look stunning with golden locks.'' I laugh, shoving his chest, my chin rising.

''Thanks for trusting me,'' he mutters, his head tilting.

''You basically manipulated me into talking to you,'' I state playfully, making him roll his eyes.

''It helped, didn't it?'' he asks, leaning down, our noses almost touching.

I don't cave, not daring to actually agree that it did. It hurt, more than I could have imagined. And, at the same time, less than I thought it would. My hands find his neck, grounding me in him. ''What are we doing?''

''Diving headfirst.'' A mischievous smirk opens on his lips as his hold tightens on my waist. And before I realize what he's doing, he runs to the deep lake. I only have one second to close my mouth and eyes, the waters surrounding our bodies soon after.

My feet swim up, oxygen filling my lungs once more as our heads get out of the lake, the icy waters spreading chills around my skin. I laugh, pushing Victor as he tries to come closer. And in the end, I let him, enjoying his warmth.

''This place is really good to swoon girls,'' I say, my fingers swirling on the surface, Victor right in front of me. There is a peaceful silence, and the natural scents surround us.

Victor shrugs, his hand running through his wet hair, ''Well, I lied. I did bring some friends and girls around here, these trails are quite famous. But never till here, to the waterfall.''

''Oh, please. Don't say some cheesy thing like 'Shahrazad, you're special' or 'you're not like the other girls'.'' My tone mocks him, making him snort.

''I just, hmmm,'' he says, floating in the water. ''I don't know. I think I needed someone thar would listen. And you needed it too.''

I nod. At the bottom of these rock walls, in our rock bottom, we are more similar than ever. And, at the same time, we're strangers, showing gradually to the other our sides, in our own time.

No one is telling our stories for us. We're doing it. And we're listening. This is the closest to being better I've gotten so far.

''The words can be heavy, right? The whispers too,'' I say, my head shaking. ''People would stare and point. I was the crazy doctor that lost her mind.''

You can even get out of the hospital alive, but your privacy without a doubt dies there - I know this very well. The gossip runs wild in those walls as my reputation collapsed.

And I'll forever be thankful to Mendes and Claire. Both being attendings, they had a huge saying in me not facing any major repercussions. They helped me, staying by my side when not even Ian did. After all, I did nothing wrong as a doctor. I only did myself wrong.

''Another dirty truth: from everything that I have lost, in the last months, in my entire life. This tiny thing, my self-confidence as a doctor, was by far the worst." My lungs are empty, my entire body is. ''And it must make me the most terrible person alive.''

My fingers play with my soaked jacket, the cold reaching my heart once more.

''And fuck. Saying this all aloud." My hands open, splashing water around. ''I don't know if I feel less or more crazy.''

I swallow, easier this time. With one less ugly truth being buried inside of me. And I want him to yell at me, say I'm right, I'm the worst person alive. But I also want him to say I'm wrong.

''Pão de queijo," is what he ends up saying, swimming around. ''That is what actually saved me. I was twenty-one, in college. Starting therapy, getting better, or avoiding how I actually wasn't getting better at all.

''And there was this week, nothing major happened. I simply stayed in bed for days. And I was so very close to cut or drink into oblivion again, just to feel something, anything.'' His head shakes, his voice hitching. ''But then I thought about Akira and it made me think about all the things I wanted to do one more time, or what I hadn't learned still."

My wet hair dripping in my shoulders, the water falling echoing between us as he continues speaking, his eyes lost in memories.

''I love to cook. And I had never learned how to bake pão de queijo. For some stupid reason, that was the thing that made me get out of bed. Take a shower, change my clothes, and go to the supermarket. But not to buy razors or buzz, only to buy the ingredients for the silly pão de queijo.''

''Did you cook it?'' I ask, smiling.

''Oh, no," he answers, and we laugh, waves spreading as our body shakes in the water. ''I forgot my cellphone, and I had no idea what the recipe was. But I bought the frozen ones. And pasta, cooking dinner for the first time in months.''

A nostalgic smile spreads through his lips, the clouds closing in the sky, darkening the day. However, the moment is just perfect, not needing any light. And I feel his words, understanding completely how immense a simple task can be.

''I still don't know the recipe. But on that day, it was what made me get out of bed and keep going."

And he looks at me, really looks at me, as he continues, ''Some days, that is just enough.

''And it's terrifying when you lose the thing that makes you get out of bed. It's like an earthquake stealing your ground away.''

My toes wiggle, floating in the water, not touching the bottom beneath me. I did lose my ground when I lost my confidence. My profession has always been mine, one thing no one could take away from me. No one but me.

And I'm terrified I'll never be the old me again. But it doesn't need to be all bad, I suppose. I can be someone different in a better way. And I look at him back, really looking at him.

''I had never cooked empanadas. Nor had gone to a fundraiser or trespassed. And definitely never have been to a waterfall before," I say, to Victor and myself.

''It was not trespassing," he teases me, splashing water on my face. And I smile. A warm smile.

''You can't treat me like a broken doll,'' I start listing, ''And you can't be my crutch.''

Victor first stares me in confusion, but soon he gets where I'm going with, a sparkle firing in his irises. ''You can't look at me with sad eyes," he says, ''And you can't let your past weigh you down. That is how you sink.'' And he grabs my ankle, pulling me down, towards him.

I yelp, my hands collapsing in his chest as my legs circle his hips.

''This will get too complicated, too soon," I mutter, losing myself in his eyes.

''I know."

He leans closer to me, his warm hands on my lower back, one of them trailing up my body, coming to my cheek.

''And you can't fall in love with me," he says calmly.

''Nor you with me.''

Both of us have no idea what we are doing. Feelings happen. Just feel them. And the good thing about reaching rock bottom is that there is no way to fall deeper.

''I think we have gotten ourselves in some sort of complicated deal,'' he states, my entire body melting, my frozen heart long forgotten.

''For the little that we know of the other, I think complicated is our expertise."

And our mouths meet. Our lips are dried after telling such harsh truths. But we kiss softly, no hurry.

The clouds get darker, thunder hitting the sky. An ice-cold rain pours above us, but not even this can vanish away the warmth that has spread through me.

Our deal is mostly unspoken. Both of us agreeing to keep going with whatever this is, whatever we are. Teaching and learning new things. Finding new reasons to get out of bed. Trying again. Together.

Because, after all, some days this is just enough. It has to be.

——•:•——
HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE CHAPTER. DON'T FORGET TO VOTE. THANKS FOR READING

-I edited the previous chapter because it was so raw. So sorry for posting it with so much mistakes. Now, both chapters (this and the previous) have 4K words. Sorry for being long, hope the length wasn't tiring

-Happy holidays, amores. Enjoy it, enjoy your loved ones, enjoy a little brake. Sleeping is important!!!!! Take care of yourself

•any thoughts on this chapter? I know that the biggest questions weren't answered still, however we connected a lot of things (but sorry, in my mind this chapter was more important, I don't know if it's because I'm the author, but now this chapter seems so so boring SORRY)

What was connected:
-Chloe moving with Elena
-Claire and the entire "worst day of Elena's profession"
-Ian in the gallery of Ella's surgery
-Whispers in the hospital
-Why Elena lost her confidence as a doctor and why she was on a timeout in the beginning of the story
-Half of why Ella affected Elena so much
-Elena cutting her hair

*This chapter is dedicated to temporaryrosie
You are my baby, Tysm for being here

[Sneak peek 19: a fluffy chapter.]