(no subject)
Two. Twenty.
Eight.
Derek watched as Richard Webber entered the conference room, his face grim and stony. The department heads were still gathering, still settling into their seats, when he walked in. Derek had parked himself a few chairs down from the front, and for some reason, Sloan had elected to sit next to him. Derek honestly wondered what the other man was thinking, being close enough to punch. He put the violence out of his mind as he looked at his boss and professional mentor, who was not dressed as a doctor, but like a visitor, someone who was merely traveling through.
Derek also noticed the head of the hospital board had followed the Chief into the room and was standing, arms folded, by the door, like he was guarding it.
Sloan seemed to read Derek's mind, and whispered, "This doesn't look good."
"I apologize for calling this meeting will so little warning," he said. "I promise I'll be brief."
Webber took a sheet of paper from his pocket, and unfolded it. His hands trembled a bit, rattling the paper. He put his reading glasses on, and after a couple of breaths, said, "As some of you may have noticed, Doctor Preston Burke is not here today. At ten-thirty last night, I received a telephone call from Doctor Burke, informing me of his intention to resign his position here at Seattle Grace, effective immediately. Ten minutes after this call was completed, I received - via fax transmission - his letter of resignation, which I had requested, per hospital guidelines for termination of employment." Webber blew out a breath, and the air caught on his vocal cords, giving it a sad, shuddery rhythm. He blinked a few times, then continued. "Earlier this morning, Doctor Addison Montgomery informed me that she also intends to resign her position, effective two weeks from today. I have received and accepted her letter of resignation."
Derek was stunned. He looked around the room, trying to pull her visage from the sea, but to no avail. Almost on cue, Webber said what he was thinking, which was, "I don't see her here."
"She's in surgery, Chief," someone said, breaking the deafening silence.
Webber nodded. "Doctor Ed Yamamoto is going to be serving as our interim head of Cardiology, and he is also invited to apply for the permanent post - he is currently in surgery on one of Doctor Burke's patients - Doctor Burke did also recommend him for the interim position. Doctor Montgomery will remain on staff for the next ten days, after which she will take the vacation days that she has accumulated. Therefore, her last day will be the Wednesday after next. No interim replacement has been determined for her post as of now."
Then he lifted his eyes from his paper. Took off his glasses. "I am not leaving yet. I am not retiring yet. I am still here. I am still Chief. But with all that has happened over the past months...especially with my personal life...I have decided that I must delegate some authority to you, my department heads."
He let his words sink in for a moment before he continued. "From now on, you have control of your departments and the resources in them, both in matters of personnel and material. This is not to say that I do not have the final word, or veto power, but I hope that I will not have to step in unless I need to."
Derek noticed that he was digging his fingernails into his palm. He was still stuck on Addison's resignation. She was going. Like he'd wanted her to when she showed up out of the blue. And now...now he wasn't so sure he wanted to lose her friendship.
"You are all professionals of the highest caliber. You deserve a chance to prove to me, the board, and yourselves that you are truly the standard that sets the standard." He looked out at his staff. "In a few years, probably three at the most, I will retire. My wife and I had a long discussion about it last night, and when I woke up this morning, it was the first time in - I don't know how long, really - that I didn't want to be here. But I have a job to do, and now I can make sure that when I recommend someone to be my replacement, I'll know they can do the job." He looked at Derek. "Right now, I'm going on vacation. I will spend a week of my life trying to renew myself, my marriage, my life...and then I will return. Until I do, Derek Shepherd will be filling in for me."
Derek heard his name, and looked up involuntarily. "Okay. Thanks."
He glanced around the room. Noticed that Sloan's face was rather clouded, too. Derek decided that he was probably upset that he wasn't going to be filling in for the Chief. Selfish creep.
Cristina's tears had dried a couple minutes before, but she still wasn't speaking. Her beeper cried out again, and she wordlessly and ruthlessly tore it from her waistband, and threw it against the opposite wall with all the force she could muster. It clattered and pinged as it landed on the floor in a few chunks of plastic and glass and metal.
George sat next to her, their backs against the cold wall. He let her lean against him, pinning his arm between them. But he didn't really notice. Because while he hadn't lost his fiancee, he had lost his mentor. And, yes, a friend. The reality of it all was still a bit much to take.
Then Cristina's voice came, soft and sad. "Why, George?" she asked. "Why?"
He was stumped, and said so. "I - I wish I knew."
"Yesterday. He was here. He was..." Her voice disappeared again.
"Yeah. Things made sense then, right?"
She nodded. "I - I was scared. I loved him...I know I did...but...I froze. At the worst possible moment...I froze." She sighed. "And now...I'm here, and he's gone...and today...I just wanna...get that instant back. Say all things I needed to say. Tell him that I loved him and that I wanted to...but I..."
George stared straight ahead. "I know. You weren't ready to get married." He chewed on a lip. "You wanted to...be ready. You made yourself believe that you were ready. You said yes...but you didn't know at the moment...that saying yes to that one question was like...saying no to a bunch of others. A forever-and-ever kind of no."
"Was I selfish?" Cristina asked. "George? Was I selfish? Did I want to have too much? Burke, and my career, and my freedom? Should I have given something up?"
"It's all compromise, right?" George replied. "Give and take? You have to be willing to give. And that means you have to be willing to take. But give and take doesn't work when it's one-sided." He shook his head.
"Yeah," Cristina replied sadly. "Yeah, George." She sighed. "I heard that you...failed."
George chuckled glumly. "Which failure are you talking about?" he asked.
Cristina finally looked at him. "What?" she asked.
George couldn't look at her. "What I'm gonna tell you, you can't tell anyone else. Please."
She rested a hand on him, and asked more urgently, "What?"
Three. Oh.
Nine.
Alex finally had a moment to himself. He'd hoped that Addison was going to be his attending, but he'd ended up with Paula Roth, and while she was a decent surgeon, she practically had him running windsprints around the hospital. He knew he'd learn more from Addi - sorry, Doctor Montgomery - a woman that he'd discovered to be a great teacher.
And not half-bad in a linen closet, either.
Which, he suspected, was the reason why she wasn't his attending.
But that would have been stupid. He wasn't into her like that. He liked her, liked her fine, but there was someone who was still on his mind. She was there a lot when he was alone...so that meant she was there most of the time. 'Ava', a/k/a Rebecca.
He could see her clear as day. Hear her talk. She'd only been gone a day and he...
...he missed her?
That's ridiculous, he thought. She's married. New baby. Husband.
He'd already given Izzie so much grief over the Denny Duquette fiasco, and then had to defend his affection for his patient.
Affection. Was that the right word? He decided that it was as right as he could figure.
As Alex sat alone at the Neo-Natal nurses' station, his eyes drifted over to the computer. All the files. Names of patients.
All the names. Histories. Treatments.
Contact information.
Her phone number.
It could be there.
It could.
Alex sat and stared at that computer for the longest time before Doctor Roth found him, setting him off on sprints again.
...to Five. Thirty. Again.