What If?

By: sz3ianne

This is my story of Doc Martin & Louisa altered to include the real hidden DM. Under the armour, the side that only comes out to play in private. To include background leading into Season 4; What If?

Doc Martin and all of its characters, themes and plotlines are the property of Buffalo Pictures. This work of fiction written for purely entertainment purposes, the work of my imagination. No infringement of any legal rights intended or implied.

Chapter 1

It's been nearly a month now since Louisa left without a word. His mind wondering, as it did most days, while he waits for his computer to boot up. 'How is Louisa doing?' He missed her so much that his heart aches for her. This past month, his wish was to catch a glimpse of her again.* He asks himself over again, 'is she taking care of herself; her acute anemia could return. I wonder if her new GP is adequate to keep Louisa healthy. Closing his eyes, he remembers her touch; her kiss, how she made him feel wanted, loved.' A loud bang of the front door brings Martin from his thoughts, announcing Pauline's late arrival.

"You're late," yells Martin as he walks out of his consulting room.

"No, I'm right on time and we are going to be busy by the look of the villagers heading up the hill."

"What do you mean? Are you overbooking my surgery again?"

"You get grouchy if I don't keep your mind off Louisa. We have lost quite a few patients since she left. Figured if I kept you busy you wouldn't have time to brood."

Martin stares at her 'what does she mean?' He holds out his hand, "just give me the schedule for today."

Pauline hands him the copy along with the stack of the morning appointments.

"When the first patient comes, just send them straight in." He turns, walking back to his consulting room and closing the door behind him. Sitting at his desk, he pulls up his diary on the computer. This week he will be in Truro for his monthly PCT meeting, 'maybe have lunch with Chris' he decides. A knock at the door interrupts his thoughts, and so the day begins for Doctor Ellingham.

xXxXx

Doctor Chris Parsons calls the meeting to order; he goes over all the new NHS changes to implement, and then introduces the guest speaker for their lecture today. "May I introduce Doctor Isaac Hayes."

"Good morning, I am Doctor Isaac Hayes, Psychiatrist with my specialty in Phobia's."

Martin's mind immediately shuts off when he hears Psychiatrist, 'bunch of mumbo jumbo'. He sits through the first 30 minutes without any acknowledgement of the lecture. His ears and mind perk up when his brain registers what the Doctor has said.

"Most phobias can be traced back to a childhood incident." Martin's mind searches back to his own childhood, not pleasant, or normal, as he learned, remembering a conversation with his Aunt Ruth when his haemophobia made it impossible to perform surgery. In his mind, he just needed rest, a month or so and he would be fine. That was not to be; Aunt Ruth tried to persuade him to go to therapy, but Martin would not hear it. 'Martin I can remember you at four years of age, happy, communicative and again at six when you all but shut down. Martin, you need help.'

Doctor Hayes is rambling on about "the types of phobias as identified in three different categories; social, agora and specific; women are more likely to suffer a phobia than men are. The typical symptoms can include nausea, trembling, rapid heartbeat, feelings of unreality, and being preoccupied with the fear object. Phobias can have a serious impact on an individual's life. Most specific phobias fall into one of four major categories: fears of the natural environment, those can include astraphobia, hydrophobia and dendrophobia. The second is fears related to animals and they include batrachophobia, cynophobia, and equinophobia. Third category is fear related to medical treatments or issues, some phobias are trypanophobia, dentophobia and haemophobia. The last category is fears related to specific situations, these phobias include claustrophobia, glossophobia and aerophobia. One more important thing to remember is that virtually any object can become a fear object."

Martins' mind is swirling, he feels his chest tighten, and Palmer sweating breaking out; he realizes he is having a panic attack. Quickly getting up out of his chair, he heads for the exit. In the hallway, leaning against the wall, he is slowly calming down when Chris steps out of the room and walks towards him.

"Mart, are you alright?"

Martin raises his hand to gesture he is fine, but Chris can see the panic in his eyes. Taking him by the arm, Chris escorts Martin into a side room. Pulling out a bottle of water from the cooler in the room, he hands it to Martin, "here drink this."

Martin is leaning, with his hand on a chair to maintain his balance; his face is pale and sweaty. Grabbing the water bottle, he gulps down half the bottle. The feeling in his chest slackens and he starts to feel better.

"Mart, what happened?"

"I don't know, listening to him," pointing towards the other room, "remembering my problem, the room just started spinning."

"Stay put. When you feel better, come by my office and we could go to lunch or just talk."

"No I will head back to Portwenn; I have some research to finish. I will talk to you later if that is alright?"

"Sure, Mart. Talk to you later."

xXxXx

Months have passed since the non-wedding. Martin has spent these five months in therapy with Doctor Hayes, at first weekly in his office, working on his haemophobia. Now his weekly session is by skype and he can see results happening. Doctor Hayes wants him to dig deeper into his childhood. 'That is where we will find your problem,' he says to Martin. Martin hates going back into his past, but if it will help, he will try. A breakthrough happened last week; as Martin explained an incident with his father, 'I can remember running into my father's study. I had caught a rare butterfly in our garden. I forgot to knock and rushed in. My father got very angry, and using the back of his hand, he swung, hitting me across the side of my head. I don't remember anything again until I awoke in my room. I was on the floor, blood covered most of my clothes, and my head hurt, as did my arm. I could taste dried blood near my mouth. My father entered through the door a few minutes later with his doctor's bag. He took me into the bath, cleaned my bloody face and sutured my forehead, put a splint on my arm and sent me to bed. I remember my arm hurting. Later that evening he took me to a doctor's office and the man there set and put a cast on my arm.' Doctor Hayes asks for more detail, which I provide. Doctor Hayes continually asks about Louisa; I tell him what he needs to know to help me, nothing more than necessary. He explains, 'if you want to get her back you will need to open up to her. Talk about yourself.'

I try to consider his advice. Louisa in London, me here spending my days cooking, for one, with lonely nights having a bed all to myself. Never thought much of sleeping alone before, the bed was a place for body and mind to regenerate and I always said 'I would never want to share my bedroom with others again after so many years of boarding school. Sleeping, showering, dressing, with others making fun of my bedwetting or, my gangly body, or I was just being bullied. I miss my nights with Louisa, her warm body next to mine, and her head on my shoulder, the feel of her waist under my arm. I replay each night, as Louisa summons me to our times in bed together. Why couldn't we have had more of those moments alone together, where I could express my true feelings to her, realizing that all I wanted was love and to share that love with Louisa. Only with her had I felt safe to feel these things, only in private, not out in public. Something needs to change. I am tired of only dreaming of Louisa, I want her here with me. I need to call her. I just need to hear her voice, hear that Cornish accent with the hard "t" when she says my name; oh, how I loved the way she said my name. I miss her chattering away about everything.' I pull out my phone, 'all I need to do is hit my speed dial button and I can hear her lovely voice,' but I can't. 'What would I say? What if she is happy in London; what if she has moved on wanting nothing more to do with Portwenn or me?' I put my phone back in my pocket, despondently, 'Tomorrow I will call.' I had better get back to making my lonely meal for one.

Scaling and filleting the sea bass, cutting the new potatoes and carrots my mind wanders back to earlier today with a satisfied smirk. 'Putting Edith in her place with the correct diagnoses felt so good. Meeting her earlier this week in the A&E brought back memories I did not want to deal with. At least that dog whisperer woman will not have to have unnecessary surgery.'

Knocking at the surgery front door brings Martin out of his reverie. 'Who would be bothering me at this hour of the evening? It had better be a medical emergency.'

Opening the door, Martin surprised by who it is. 'I thought my problem ended with her earlier today when I corrected her misdiagnosis. I hadn't seen Edith in twenty years, and I really didn't want to discuss anything with her now.'

"Edith"

The smug looking ginger hair woman stands at the door waiting.

"I accept your apology," Martin points out.

He stands aside to allow Edith to enter, escorting her to the kitchen through the lounge before turning around to acknowledge her. 'In medical school Edith was always overbearing, taking credit when others did all the work. Intellectually she was my equal, but she always had to be controlling, even when wrong, as she was today.'

"Ellingham, you were rude to me today in front of my colleagues."

"You diagnosed the woman with abdominal pain resulting from a cyst, jumping to surgery without having a CT scan to verify your diagnosis; I needed to step in which is why I took Mrs. Cook for a CT scan. My diagnosis of diverticulitis was correct and with antibiotics she will get better without surgery."

Edith continues to stand there without saying a word. 'God, this man!'

"Don't be like that, Ellingham. You haven't changed; your patient is Collingsworth not Cook."

"What do you want? I need to get back to preparing my dinner."

Edith sits down at the table and simply smiles. I stand there staring and wondering what she wants. I offer her glass of water, pulling a glass off the shelf and filling it.

"How is the hand?" she inquires.

"I haven't looked."

"What happened?"

"Some moron" he started to utter….

"Another one" Edith waves requesting my hand to see how my hand is healing. Inspecting my hand, she continues, "I always thought you'd end up somewhere else?"

Scowling, Martin turns away.

Edith makes a disparaging sound.

I feel now is a good time to tell her how much it hurt when she left, and that I don't want her coming here again. Before I can say anything, there is a knock at the kitchen door. 'Can't the idiots come during surgery time instead of bothering me now?' I pull my hand from Edith to get up from the table. Looking at the frosted glass window on the kitchen door, I see the silhouette of the woman I see in my dreams, around corners, and in the school. 'No it is my imagination playing tricks on me again.'

xXxXx

Earlier that same week Louisa is sitting in her London bedsit, now six months pregnant, requested to leave her position at Holly's school. 'Pregnant, an unmarried woman is not good for the uppity parents or the reputation of my school', Holly had said. As she sits, she wonders, 'now what will I do?' Louisa pulls out her phone, looks up Sally Chadwick's number and dials. Louisa and Sally have kept in contact since Louisa left for London. During the friendly conversation, Sally mentions that the new head had let Iona Castle go and the position is open. Louisa admits to Sally what happened with her job, and they agree to set up Louisa with an appointment. Louisa has two days to pack and get back to Portwenn.

In the morning, a day later with luggage in hand, she enters Paddington Station for her train to Bodmin Station. During the four-hour train trip, Louisa focuses her thoughts on Martin. 'How will he take the pregnancy? I should have called him when I found out. Should I call up to the surgery first and try to explain? I have missed him so much, life is not happier without him,' her mind firing off questions.

Louisa slumbers awhile, the train rocking motion helping her to relax. Her dream is of Martin, the recurring dream of her lying in his strong arms, his eyes softening as he looks at her. He kisses the top of her head and snuggles into the nape of her neck. She loves this Martin, why couldn't there have been more moments like this. Slowly opening her eyes, Louisa knows she made the right decision not marrying Martin. If, only dreams could come true. 'I will decide what is right when I get to the village' she tells herself regarding her question on telling Martin.

At Bodmin Station, Louisa departs the train, and grabs a taxi to take her to the village. The taxi driver jabbers on about everything and anything trying to get this beautiful woman to talk. Louisa remains quiet contemplating what she is going to do when they reach Portwenn.

"Please go to the Platt in the village" is all she says.

When they reach Portwenn the taxi slowly moves through the lanes down to the village center and stops. Louisa spots Martin's Lexus in its parking spot and requests the driver to take her up Roscarrock Hill to the surgery. As she climbs the steps, the taxi driver pulls her luggage from the boot and deposits them on the landing by the front door. Louisa stands scanning her village, and notices a black Audi parked next to Martin's Lexus, now not sure she made the right decision. Worrying her bottom lip, Louisa walks to the back door of the house. The lights are on in the kitchen, it is now or never she decides and knocks on the door.

End of chapter

xXxXx

Definitions of the phobias Doctor Hayes provided in his lecture: provided by Kendra Cherry in "Very Well Minds – Phobias A to Z"

Astraphobia fear of thunder and lighting

Hydrophobia fear of water

Dendrophobia fear of trees

Batrachophobia fear of amphibians

Cynophobia fear of dogs

Equinophobia fear of horses

Trypanophobia fear of needles/injections

Dentophobia fear of dentists

Haemophobia fear of blood

Claustrophobia fear of confined spaces

Glossophobia fear of speaking in public

Aerophobia fear of flying

Throughout my story, I will be honoring some FF authors. Their writing has allowed my imagination to have vision. My first honor goes to ke0212 for Just a Glimpse. DM just wanted to catch a glimpse of Louisa.

Ke0212 is providing my editing, helping a non-writer. Any mistakes are my own.