I've Got this Soul 4/10
I’ve Got This Soul 4/10
Title: I’ve Got This Soul…
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Callie, Callie/Mark (eventually)
Disclaimer: All characters, events, settings and situations mentioned in this work are sole property of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, in constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be defamatory or factual in anyway.
Summary: Callie wakes up. Mark is trying to. We get a glimpse of Callie’s family here. There are also some lighter moments.
Authors Notes: To my Megan, because she’s gorgeous and amazing, and about to lose another bet.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Always wondering maybe…
He stood outside her room for an hour. Sixty minutes straight, he stood outside and watched through the hospital window at Callie as she slept. She slept on her back. Her brow was slightly furrowed and he gripped the pill box tightly in one hand while the other held onto her jacket. He had remained there while nurses came in and out to check on her. He never turned or acknowledged anyone who directed a word in his direction. The enormous amount of guilt he felt wouldn’t allow him anything but guard her.
His eyes remained on her, even when his muscles started to ache for movement, he remained still, glued to the spot.
After making it inside, he sat in a chair near the door, her jacket now on his lap, the pills still in his hand. His palm was sweaty against the plastic, but he couldn’t register that he should let go. She slept still, now turned onto her side. Her hair covered her cheek, which was getting its color back slowly. He could see her chest expanding every time she took a breath, and in return, it helped him breathe easily. His entire body was running a cold fever. He felt clammy and tired. And he looked up only when the door swung open and a familiar form stood in the doorway.
“You need to get up.”
He looked up and met Derek’s eyes briefly, barely acknowledging him before returning his gaze toward the woman in the bed. Monitors indicated she was fine and breathing regularly. Her I.V. was well placed and her heart well paced. He wasn’t sure he was.
“Mark--” Derek tried again, closing the door upon catching a couple of curious nurses peaking in the room. He leaned back and crossed his arms as he followed Mark’s line of vision. He took a deep breath before stating, “--do you want me to tell you it’s not your fault, stuff like that?”
“No.” Mark replied plainly.
Derek nodded and scratched his chin before adding, “I wasn’t going to.”
“I could have been there, though.”
“Yes.”
“And--” His voice dragged with exhaustion, so he cleared his throat before continuing, “--she looks tired. She hasn’t been sleeping.”
‘No.”
“She’s talked to you?” He asked, looking up at Derek now. Without knowing, his fingers gave out to the numbness and the tiny container feel out of his hand, the sound of it hitting the floor way too loud in the thick silence and both men watched it roll in a circle three or four times before Derek’s shoe stopped it and he bent over to pick it up.
“What is this--” He asked, reading the label, then looking at Callie.
“Derek, don’t say anything--” Mark stood quickly, now at eye level with the only man he had ever called a brother, his mind fully alert, “--this will ruin her career, don’t--just don’t. Please.”
Derek’s jaw set and he considered his options for a second before taking a deep breath and saying in a low tone, “She’s taking a mandatory two month leave. It’s not negotiable. And you’ll be the one to tell her.”
“I can’t tell her--”
“It’s either that, or she’s suspended. Publicly humiliated. Your choice.” He knew it was tough. And He could have easily done Callie a favor as a friend and colleague, but this wasn’t about him. It was about Mark and his need to be pushed in the right direction. So he stood his ground.
“I’ll do it.” Mark mumbled, taking the bottle back as Derek held it out for him to take. “I’ll do it.” he repeated. More for himself than anything as he nodded decisively. “--when she wakes up.”
“You’ll be here when she wakes up?” Derek asked, more in warning than in question.
“Of course I’ll be here when she wakes up.” Mark sneered, “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Rather than make a comment about his absence pre-the incident, Derek simply stared back a moment before reaching for the door, “Let me know if she needs anything.”
*#*
In her dream, she was happy. She sat in a lounge chair back home. Her mother’s large garden, blooming in every season accommodated her just fine. Birds chirped and the air was wonderfully warm and fresh all at once. She could breathe there. She was happy there. She didn’t HAVE to do anything there. She never met George there and her heart never broke. She didn’t lose Mark there and her heart never broke.
Once her eyes opened, however, and they fell on her limp hand, I.V. sticking out, her mouth dry--she wanted to go back to sleep. She breathed a few times, blinking as she took in the white room, her stomach felt sore and empty. And she moved slowly off her side and onto her back, the sheets shuffling quietly until she turned her head the other way and everything stopped.
His blue eyes seemed gray as they met hers. His brow was furrowed with worry and his hands were wrapped around her leather jacket as it laid on his lap. He was sitting two feet away, and it was the closest she’d had him in a very long time.
They had nothing to say for what seemed like an eternity. They stared at one another as if they were meeting again, except Mark knew her all too well and he wanted to know why she’d done it. He wanted to shake her and demand an answer. He also wanted to apologize and take her home and out of the hospital bed. Take care of her. “Are you in pain?” His words finally broke the silence, and what he saw next, made him feel like he’d never had before.
Her chin quivered and a sob instantly followed. Her body shook with the sobs she was suppressing and her hands went up to cover her face as she turned on her left side. He felt helpless as she cried and her sobs filled the room now.
She felt his hand tentatively brush her hair aside, the uncontrollable emotion pouring out of her like a flood as the tears fell and the mattress beneath her shifted as he climbed on and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She surrendered and fell against him for only a moment before the whole scene felt contrived and she pushed at his chest through her cries, “Get--away…” She hiccupped, seeing through blurry eyes the hurt expression on his face. She didn’t care. She’d been gone too long to come back and just think he can see her fall apart like that. “Go!” She demanded again, turning on her other side as the tears failed to stop and her stomach cramped even more as sobs became louder still, “Get out!”
He looked at her, mouth agape, then looked down at the jacket still hanging limply from his hand. His heart ached as he debated on whether he should leave or not, when an unexpected, fair skinned brunette with wide eyes and a horrifyingly worried demeanor entered the room. After sending and offhanded glance his way, she moved quickly towards Callie.
“Cal?” She asked softly as she climbed onto the bed, where he’d previously been lain beside Callie and he watched as the woman kisser hair and offered reassuring words. Callie instantly turned and buried herself in the stranger’s arms, “It’s okay.” She cooed, “I’m here, honey, I’m here.”
He walked slowly towards the door and finally dropped the jacket in a chair on his way out. He rubbed his face in frustration, unnoticed tears rimming his eyes as he headed for the men’s room and slammed his palm against the nearest stall door before he emptied his stomach into the marble toilet inside.
He sat one the cold floor for a second, the image of the strange woman comforting Callie after she’d ordered him out of the room--the rage built up from tips of his toes to the ends of his hair and he kicked at the stall wall once, then sat up and punched it repeatedly until there were two arms gripping him and dragging him out. He struggled and in blind rage, managed to make contact with the strange body a couple of times.
“--HEY!” He heard the voice now. Owen pulled him up straight and shoved him away, “RELAX! She’s fine now, calm down!”
He was heaving. His knuckles were sore and his entire body craved to hit something again. But when he looked up at the other man, only one question came to mind, “Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me she had someone?!
“Excuse me?” Owen asked, perplexed.
The door opened and Derek stepped inside, “What’s going on?”
Mark turned in his direction now and demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me there was someone else?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m in there and she--a woman walks in and crawls into bed with her and--she has someone and nobody told me!”
“You need to relax.’ Derek said calmly but sternly before adding, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this doesn’t change anything. You need to be there for her.”
“She doesn’t want me there.”
“She’s been hiding another life, another life completely separate from you or anything remotely close to you. She’s had her stomach pumped--you’ve been practically out of her life the past couple of months and she wakes up, exposed, vulnerable, in pain, and you’re the first thing she sees. She’s in shock. She needs help and she needs her friend. She needs you. So, get over your jealousy issues because they are moot, and be there when she’s ready to need you. Because she will need you. Get it together.”
The door opened again and a worried Meredith walked in wearily, “What is going on in here? Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” Derek replied.
“Well--Callie’s awake--”
“I know--” Mark cut in coldly, “--her girlfriend’s up there with her.”
“What? Her girlfriend--the woman upstairs? She’s her sister.”
Mark’s eyes darted up from where they rested, on his bruised knuckles, and he held his breath for a along while, “What?”
“That’s--her sister.” Meredith repeated, confused.
“Oh god--” He breathed out.
*#*
Callie’s eyes opened slowly and she was faced with soft, white silk, a long, white gold necklace, hanging off a familiar, delicate neck, fell onto the mattress as the woman next to her laid on her side and continued to stroke her hair.
She breathed in, hiccupping with the last of the forty-five minute crying fit she’d been unable to fight and she licked her lips before speaking softly, “Who called you?”
Aria looked down at the sound of her little sister’s voice and cleared her throat before replying, “I’m still your next of kin, baby sis.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s okay. I just want to know that you’re going to be okay.”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Aria.”
The older woman sighed and nodded, her fingers still combing through dark hair, “Okay. Who was the guy looking at you like you two were on the Titanic and you were drowning without him?”
Callie paused for a second while she thought of a way to answer that question, “He’s my--he’s a friend. Mark.”
“Ohhhh…” She replied softly.
Callie rolled her eyes, instantly recognizing the tone in her sister’s voice. She could feel it coming any second.
“Is that the guy you were sleeping with?”
“Aria…”
“He’s hot. And he was looking at you like--”
“Like I was Rose and he was Jack. Yeah, I heard you the first time. Enough with the 90’s references, please. You have to wait at least two decades before you can go there. It’s the rule.”
“Says who?”
“Says everyone, Aria.”
“Yeah, but like who?”
She looked up then, aggravated, “Hey, you know what? Owe. I’m in pain. Serious pain. You should not argue with me or I’ll have you kicked out.” Their eyes met defiantly, Different fathers didn’t change the fact that they still shared a mother. And her temper. They slowly broke into smiles, and soon into giggles.
A few minutes later, however, Callie found herself frowning as her sister brushed a few stray tears from her cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” Aria prompted as she sat up and took a few deep breaths, “I was so scared, Callie. I just--how did this happen? You know? I was asking myself that--how--we’ve talked on the phone. We talk ALL the time and you never said anything, I’m just so confused and worried and--do you want to come home with me? Do you want me to come here and--and take care of you? What? I can go to gay bars with you. I’m not that hot, I won’t ruin your game, but we can hang out--”
Callie shook her head and sat up as well, resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder. They were complete opposites. Callie was tan and exotic and Aria was fare skinned and soft. That’s what she exuded anyway. Their personalities were similar. He same full pout and expressive eyes.
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Callie said, as if it would offer some kind of assurance. She wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulder and added, “It was an accident. I’m just--” She drew in a shaky breath and her voice cracked, “--I’m sad, Aria. I’m sad and it was an accident, that’s all I can tell you.” She shrugged as Aria shifted to hug her against her, “That’s all I can say right now.”
Aria kissed the top of Callie’s head and sighed heavily, “Okay.” After a beat, she added, “You should know the boys are on their way here.”
“What?” Callie jerked up, “The boys as in our brothers? Aria--what the hell!”
“Hey, it was either them or mom and dad. Your choice.”
Callie groaned, but nodded, “Fair enough.”
“And let me tell you something, if this had anything to do with that giant piece of man candy, which I hope you’ve gotten your hands on at least twice, Calliope, they’re going to kick his ass.”
“Stop being gross.”
“Oh, so there is something there…”
“You know what?” Callie stated, pulling away from her and laying back down, “I’m tired. I need my rest. So, either shut up, or get out. You have two choices.”
Both women’s heads turned in the direction of the door as it was pushed open and a tall, dark, handsome man peaked a nervous head inside, “Found her!” He called over his shoulder before hurrying inside.
Callie groaned as all three of her brothers scurried inside. She reclined against the mountain of pillows behind her as three grown men fussed over her, lifting her arms, checking her temperature, arguing amongst themselves about what could have gone wrong.
“--I see no scars…” Matt, the youngest of the three men announced upon checking her wrists.
“I didn’t try to kill myself!” Callie exclaimed, pulling her arm away, then rolling her eyes as the arguing resumed and she closed her eyes for a second before announcing loudly, “Okay, enough! Matt, I did not cut my wrists. Jonathan, I didn’t try to jump off of anything, and Hector…” She sighed, “It was an accident. What are you guys DOING here?”
“What do you mean, what are we doing here?!” Hector, the oldest replied, hands on his hips, creased brow, “We stay out of your life unless you’re dying. That was deal, remember? Well, you were pretty damned close!”
“Hector, don’t yell at her, she’s in a hospital bed, for Christ’s sake!” Matt interjected, shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it onto the nearest chair.
“I’m fine.” Callie cut in, her words useless as Jonathan, the tallest and by far the most protective of the three brothers ordered them both to shut up and the bickering began again.
“HEY!” Cristina shouted as she stood in the doorway. All heads turned in her direction and before anyone could argue, she added, “Everyone out!”
“We’re her family.” Aria said firmly.
“I don’t care! I’m her Doctor and she needs to rest. She can’t do that with all of you out here arguing like ten year old girls, now get out.” After no one budged, she said sternly, “NOW!”
Grunting in disapproval, the herd of Torreses left the room, each making sure to give Cristina a well practiced glare.
She shut the door and silence filled the room as she turned and met Callie’s eyes, “You’re out today. If you want to go home.”
“Yeah.” Callie nodded, resting her head back and covering her face with her hand, her eyes closed for a moment until she heard Cristina drag a chair to sit at her bedside. She turned her head and smirked weakly at the smaller woman, “Thanks.”
Cristina simply nodded in reply and took a few breaths before asking what had been rooting in her brain for the better part of the past twenty-four hours, “You’re on anti-depressants?”
Callie swallowed audibly and licked her lips. She figured she didn’t need to vocalize her answer.
“You need to see someone about this. It’s not an option.”
“I know.”
“And you need to get better, your career could be ruined…”
“I know.”
“You’re a good surgeon, it will be a serious waste. You don’t want to be stuck in Gyno land, there’s no cutting there--except maybe C-sections, and that’s not half as badass as surgery.”
“I know.”
“Okay.” She nodded again, “You know, Meredith is always telling me to hug people…”
“We don’t have to hug.”
“Good.” There was a pause before she uttered with a grimace, “Your family are loud.”
Callie chuckled, “Yeah, I know.”
“And tall.” A beat, “Hot. The one in the suit. He’s hot.” She smiled.
“Shut up, you’re going to make me puke.” She whined. As Cristina picked up the remote control and switched on the television, she felt an odd sense of herself. She thought it peculiar that it had taken a near overdoes and a needle in her vein to make her feel a sort of relaxation she had been craving for. She relished in the comforting silence and the soft light of the television screen--the voices emitting from the apparatus soothed her, and she found herself lulled into a more peaceful sleep.
Hours later, she opened her eyes and was greeted with the gentle tapping of a tree branch against the window and the soft morning light.
“Good morning.”
She turned over at the sound of the deep, exhaustion hooded voice and was met with saddened blue eyes again, “Mark, please go.” She said softly.
“I can’t, I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I just can’t.”
“Mark--” She started to protest.
“You have to go to therapy.” He continued as he stood from where he sat, “You’re taking a two month leave and you’re going to get better. I got rid of your family for you and I’m taking you home. You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m taking you home and I’m going to take care of you whether you like it or not.” He picked up a bag from off the floor and sat it at the foot of her bed, “Yang’s coming in to help you get dressed in about an hour. Clothes are in there.” He met her eyes to make sure she knew he meant business and he added firmly, “You’re going to get better.”
She was angry with him. He’d been gone and detached and now, suddenly, he expected her to just fall apart in his arms and let him soothe her pain. A bitter tear rolled down her cheek and she looked up as he headed for the door, “Fuck you, Mark.”
He looked over his shoulder and replied softly, “I’ll see you in an hour.”
Title: I’ve Got This Soul…
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Callie, Callie/Mark (eventually)
Disclaimer: All characters, events, settings and situations mentioned in this work are sole property of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, in constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be defamatory or factual in anyway.
Summary: Callie wakes up. Mark is trying to. We get a glimpse of Callie’s family here. There are also some lighter moments.
Authors Notes: To my Megan, because she’s gorgeous and amazing, and about to lose another bet.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Always wondering maybe…
He stood outside her room for an hour. Sixty minutes straight, he stood outside and watched through the hospital window at Callie as she slept. She slept on her back. Her brow was slightly furrowed and he gripped the pill box tightly in one hand while the other held onto her jacket. He had remained there while nurses came in and out to check on her. He never turned or acknowledged anyone who directed a word in his direction. The enormous amount of guilt he felt wouldn’t allow him anything but guard her.
His eyes remained on her, even when his muscles started to ache for movement, he remained still, glued to the spot.
After making it inside, he sat in a chair near the door, her jacket now on his lap, the pills still in his hand. His palm was sweaty against the plastic, but he couldn’t register that he should let go. She slept still, now turned onto her side. Her hair covered her cheek, which was getting its color back slowly. He could see her chest expanding every time she took a breath, and in return, it helped him breathe easily. His entire body was running a cold fever. He felt clammy and tired. And he looked up only when the door swung open and a familiar form stood in the doorway.
“You need to get up.”
He looked up and met Derek’s eyes briefly, barely acknowledging him before returning his gaze toward the woman in the bed. Monitors indicated she was fine and breathing regularly. Her I.V. was well placed and her heart well paced. He wasn’t sure he was.
“Mark--” Derek tried again, closing the door upon catching a couple of curious nurses peaking in the room. He leaned back and crossed his arms as he followed Mark’s line of vision. He took a deep breath before stating, “--do you want me to tell you it’s not your fault, stuff like that?”
“No.” Mark replied plainly.
Derek nodded and scratched his chin before adding, “I wasn’t going to.”
“I could have been there, though.”
“Yes.”
“And--” His voice dragged with exhaustion, so he cleared his throat before continuing, “--she looks tired. She hasn’t been sleeping.”
‘No.”
“She’s talked to you?” He asked, looking up at Derek now. Without knowing, his fingers gave out to the numbness and the tiny container feel out of his hand, the sound of it hitting the floor way too loud in the thick silence and both men watched it roll in a circle three or four times before Derek’s shoe stopped it and he bent over to pick it up.
“What is this--” He asked, reading the label, then looking at Callie.
“Derek, don’t say anything--” Mark stood quickly, now at eye level with the only man he had ever called a brother, his mind fully alert, “--this will ruin her career, don’t--just don’t. Please.”
Derek’s jaw set and he considered his options for a second before taking a deep breath and saying in a low tone, “She’s taking a mandatory two month leave. It’s not negotiable. And you’ll be the one to tell her.”
“I can’t tell her--”
“It’s either that, or she’s suspended. Publicly humiliated. Your choice.” He knew it was tough. And He could have easily done Callie a favor as a friend and colleague, but this wasn’t about him. It was about Mark and his need to be pushed in the right direction. So he stood his ground.
“I’ll do it.” Mark mumbled, taking the bottle back as Derek held it out for him to take. “I’ll do it.” he repeated. More for himself than anything as he nodded decisively. “--when she wakes up.”
“You’ll be here when she wakes up?” Derek asked, more in warning than in question.
“Of course I’ll be here when she wakes up.” Mark sneered, “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Rather than make a comment about his absence pre-the incident, Derek simply stared back a moment before reaching for the door, “Let me know if she needs anything.”
*#*
In her dream, she was happy. She sat in a lounge chair back home. Her mother’s large garden, blooming in every season accommodated her just fine. Birds chirped and the air was wonderfully warm and fresh all at once. She could breathe there. She was happy there. She didn’t HAVE to do anything there. She never met George there and her heart never broke. She didn’t lose Mark there and her heart never broke.
Once her eyes opened, however, and they fell on her limp hand, I.V. sticking out, her mouth dry--she wanted to go back to sleep. She breathed a few times, blinking as she took in the white room, her stomach felt sore and empty. And she moved slowly off her side and onto her back, the sheets shuffling quietly until she turned her head the other way and everything stopped.
His blue eyes seemed gray as they met hers. His brow was furrowed with worry and his hands were wrapped around her leather jacket as it laid on his lap. He was sitting two feet away, and it was the closest she’d had him in a very long time.
They had nothing to say for what seemed like an eternity. They stared at one another as if they were meeting again, except Mark knew her all too well and he wanted to know why she’d done it. He wanted to shake her and demand an answer. He also wanted to apologize and take her home and out of the hospital bed. Take care of her. “Are you in pain?” His words finally broke the silence, and what he saw next, made him feel like he’d never had before.
Her chin quivered and a sob instantly followed. Her body shook with the sobs she was suppressing and her hands went up to cover her face as she turned on her left side. He felt helpless as she cried and her sobs filled the room now.
She felt his hand tentatively brush her hair aside, the uncontrollable emotion pouring out of her like a flood as the tears fell and the mattress beneath her shifted as he climbed on and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She surrendered and fell against him for only a moment before the whole scene felt contrived and she pushed at his chest through her cries, “Get--away…” She hiccupped, seeing through blurry eyes the hurt expression on his face. She didn’t care. She’d been gone too long to come back and just think he can see her fall apart like that. “Go!” She demanded again, turning on her other side as the tears failed to stop and her stomach cramped even more as sobs became louder still, “Get out!”
He looked at her, mouth agape, then looked down at the jacket still hanging limply from his hand. His heart ached as he debated on whether he should leave or not, when an unexpected, fair skinned brunette with wide eyes and a horrifyingly worried demeanor entered the room. After sending and offhanded glance his way, she moved quickly towards Callie.
“Cal?” She asked softly as she climbed onto the bed, where he’d previously been lain beside Callie and he watched as the woman kisser hair and offered reassuring words. Callie instantly turned and buried herself in the stranger’s arms, “It’s okay.” She cooed, “I’m here, honey, I’m here.”
He walked slowly towards the door and finally dropped the jacket in a chair on his way out. He rubbed his face in frustration, unnoticed tears rimming his eyes as he headed for the men’s room and slammed his palm against the nearest stall door before he emptied his stomach into the marble toilet inside.
He sat one the cold floor for a second, the image of the strange woman comforting Callie after she’d ordered him out of the room--the rage built up from tips of his toes to the ends of his hair and he kicked at the stall wall once, then sat up and punched it repeatedly until there were two arms gripping him and dragging him out. He struggled and in blind rage, managed to make contact with the strange body a couple of times.
“--HEY!” He heard the voice now. Owen pulled him up straight and shoved him away, “RELAX! She’s fine now, calm down!”
He was heaving. His knuckles were sore and his entire body craved to hit something again. But when he looked up at the other man, only one question came to mind, “Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me she had someone?!
“Excuse me?” Owen asked, perplexed.
The door opened and Derek stepped inside, “What’s going on?”
Mark turned in his direction now and demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me there was someone else?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m in there and she--a woman walks in and crawls into bed with her and--she has someone and nobody told me!”
“You need to relax.’ Derek said calmly but sternly before adding, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this doesn’t change anything. You need to be there for her.”
“She doesn’t want me there.”
“She’s been hiding another life, another life completely separate from you or anything remotely close to you. She’s had her stomach pumped--you’ve been practically out of her life the past couple of months and she wakes up, exposed, vulnerable, in pain, and you’re the first thing she sees. She’s in shock. She needs help and she needs her friend. She needs you. So, get over your jealousy issues because they are moot, and be there when she’s ready to need you. Because she will need you. Get it together.”
The door opened again and a worried Meredith walked in wearily, “What is going on in here? Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” Derek replied.
“Well--Callie’s awake--”
“I know--” Mark cut in coldly, “--her girlfriend’s up there with her.”
“What? Her girlfriend--the woman upstairs? She’s her sister.”
Mark’s eyes darted up from where they rested, on his bruised knuckles, and he held his breath for a along while, “What?”
“That’s--her sister.” Meredith repeated, confused.
“Oh god--” He breathed out.
*#*
Callie’s eyes opened slowly and she was faced with soft, white silk, a long, white gold necklace, hanging off a familiar, delicate neck, fell onto the mattress as the woman next to her laid on her side and continued to stroke her hair.
She breathed in, hiccupping with the last of the forty-five minute crying fit she’d been unable to fight and she licked her lips before speaking softly, “Who called you?”
Aria looked down at the sound of her little sister’s voice and cleared her throat before replying, “I’m still your next of kin, baby sis.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s okay. I just want to know that you’re going to be okay.”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Aria.”
The older woman sighed and nodded, her fingers still combing through dark hair, “Okay. Who was the guy looking at you like you two were on the Titanic and you were drowning without him?”
Callie paused for a second while she thought of a way to answer that question, “He’s my--he’s a friend. Mark.”
“Ohhhh…” She replied softly.
Callie rolled her eyes, instantly recognizing the tone in her sister’s voice. She could feel it coming any second.
“Is that the guy you were sleeping with?”
“Aria…”
“He’s hot. And he was looking at you like--”
“Like I was Rose and he was Jack. Yeah, I heard you the first time. Enough with the 90’s references, please. You have to wait at least two decades before you can go there. It’s the rule.”
“Says who?”
“Says everyone, Aria.”
“Yeah, but like who?”
She looked up then, aggravated, “Hey, you know what? Owe. I’m in pain. Serious pain. You should not argue with me or I’ll have you kicked out.” Their eyes met defiantly, Different fathers didn’t change the fact that they still shared a mother. And her temper. They slowly broke into smiles, and soon into giggles.
A few minutes later, however, Callie found herself frowning as her sister brushed a few stray tears from her cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” Aria prompted as she sat up and took a few deep breaths, “I was so scared, Callie. I just--how did this happen? You know? I was asking myself that--how--we’ve talked on the phone. We talk ALL the time and you never said anything, I’m just so confused and worried and--do you want to come home with me? Do you want me to come here and--and take care of you? What? I can go to gay bars with you. I’m not that hot, I won’t ruin your game, but we can hang out--”
Callie shook her head and sat up as well, resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder. They were complete opposites. Callie was tan and exotic and Aria was fare skinned and soft. That’s what she exuded anyway. Their personalities were similar. He same full pout and expressive eyes.
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Callie said, as if it would offer some kind of assurance. She wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulder and added, “It was an accident. I’m just--” She drew in a shaky breath and her voice cracked, “--I’m sad, Aria. I’m sad and it was an accident, that’s all I can tell you.” She shrugged as Aria shifted to hug her against her, “That’s all I can say right now.”
Aria kissed the top of Callie’s head and sighed heavily, “Okay.” After a beat, she added, “You should know the boys are on their way here.”
“What?” Callie jerked up, “The boys as in our brothers? Aria--what the hell!”
“Hey, it was either them or mom and dad. Your choice.”
Callie groaned, but nodded, “Fair enough.”
“And let me tell you something, if this had anything to do with that giant piece of man candy, which I hope you’ve gotten your hands on at least twice, Calliope, they’re going to kick his ass.”
“Stop being gross.”
“Oh, so there is something there…”
“You know what?” Callie stated, pulling away from her and laying back down, “I’m tired. I need my rest. So, either shut up, or get out. You have two choices.”
Both women’s heads turned in the direction of the door as it was pushed open and a tall, dark, handsome man peaked a nervous head inside, “Found her!” He called over his shoulder before hurrying inside.
Callie groaned as all three of her brothers scurried inside. She reclined against the mountain of pillows behind her as three grown men fussed over her, lifting her arms, checking her temperature, arguing amongst themselves about what could have gone wrong.
“--I see no scars…” Matt, the youngest of the three men announced upon checking her wrists.
“I didn’t try to kill myself!” Callie exclaimed, pulling her arm away, then rolling her eyes as the arguing resumed and she closed her eyes for a second before announcing loudly, “Okay, enough! Matt, I did not cut my wrists. Jonathan, I didn’t try to jump off of anything, and Hector…” She sighed, “It was an accident. What are you guys DOING here?”
“What do you mean, what are we doing here?!” Hector, the oldest replied, hands on his hips, creased brow, “We stay out of your life unless you’re dying. That was deal, remember? Well, you were pretty damned close!”
“Hector, don’t yell at her, she’s in a hospital bed, for Christ’s sake!” Matt interjected, shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it onto the nearest chair.
“I’m fine.” Callie cut in, her words useless as Jonathan, the tallest and by far the most protective of the three brothers ordered them both to shut up and the bickering began again.
“HEY!” Cristina shouted as she stood in the doorway. All heads turned in her direction and before anyone could argue, she added, “Everyone out!”
“We’re her family.” Aria said firmly.
“I don’t care! I’m her Doctor and she needs to rest. She can’t do that with all of you out here arguing like ten year old girls, now get out.” After no one budged, she said sternly, “NOW!”
Grunting in disapproval, the herd of Torreses left the room, each making sure to give Cristina a well practiced glare.
She shut the door and silence filled the room as she turned and met Callie’s eyes, “You’re out today. If you want to go home.”
“Yeah.” Callie nodded, resting her head back and covering her face with her hand, her eyes closed for a moment until she heard Cristina drag a chair to sit at her bedside. She turned her head and smirked weakly at the smaller woman, “Thanks.”
Cristina simply nodded in reply and took a few breaths before asking what had been rooting in her brain for the better part of the past twenty-four hours, “You’re on anti-depressants?”
Callie swallowed audibly and licked her lips. She figured she didn’t need to vocalize her answer.
“You need to see someone about this. It’s not an option.”
“I know.”
“And you need to get better, your career could be ruined…”
“I know.”
“You’re a good surgeon, it will be a serious waste. You don’t want to be stuck in Gyno land, there’s no cutting there--except maybe C-sections, and that’s not half as badass as surgery.”
“I know.”
“Okay.” She nodded again, “You know, Meredith is always telling me to hug people…”
“We don’t have to hug.”
“Good.” There was a pause before she uttered with a grimace, “Your family are loud.”
Callie chuckled, “Yeah, I know.”
“And tall.” A beat, “Hot. The one in the suit. He’s hot.” She smiled.
“Shut up, you’re going to make me puke.” She whined. As Cristina picked up the remote control and switched on the television, she felt an odd sense of herself. She thought it peculiar that it had taken a near overdoes and a needle in her vein to make her feel a sort of relaxation she had been craving for. She relished in the comforting silence and the soft light of the television screen--the voices emitting from the apparatus soothed her, and she found herself lulled into a more peaceful sleep.
Hours later, she opened her eyes and was greeted with the gentle tapping of a tree branch against the window and the soft morning light.
“Good morning.”
She turned over at the sound of the deep, exhaustion hooded voice and was met with saddened blue eyes again, “Mark, please go.” She said softly.
“I can’t, I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I just can’t.”
“Mark--” She started to protest.
“You have to go to therapy.” He continued as he stood from where he sat, “You’re taking a two month leave and you’re going to get better. I got rid of your family for you and I’m taking you home. You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m taking you home and I’m going to take care of you whether you like it or not.” He picked up a bag from off the floor and sat it at the foot of her bed, “Yang’s coming in to help you get dressed in about an hour. Clothes are in there.” He met her eyes to make sure she knew he meant business and he added firmly, “You’re going to get better.”
She was angry with him. He’d been gone and detached and now, suddenly, he expected her to just fall apart in his arms and let him soothe her pain. A bitter tear rolled down her cheek and she looked up as he headed for the door, “Fuck you, Mark.”
He looked over his shoulder and replied softly, “I’ll see you in an hour.”