Bulletproof (I Wish I Was)...Chapter 6
Disclaimer: The characters of this fiction, except the bitchtastic Cornelia Albright, belong to ABC/Shondaland. No profit intended.
Rating and warnings: TV14ish. No sex (sorry). A little language sprinkled in for flavoring. And, what's this? Angst? Of course it is.
Personal note: I'm winding this story down because all this melodrama is making me bitchy. Yeah, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. It's the fiction doing it, I swear.
There's going to be one more chapter after this one.
So, here we go...
Chapter 6
"Are these allegations true, Dr. Webber?" Dr. Cornelia Albright, chair of the hospital's current board, walked to the conference room's small bar and hefted a crystal decanter. She poured out three glasses of the amber liquor.
"As presented? Not entirely. No."
Albright walked the three glasses to the highly polished table, placing one in front of Richard, one in front of Erica. "Richard, this is no time to split hairs. Either they're true or they're not."
"They're true," Erica assured her.
"You'll excuse me if I don't take your word as gospel, Dr. Hahn," Albright said, taking a sip of her drink.
Erica shrugged that away. There was a certain comfort in knowing she was undeniably on the right side of this subject. "I don't care if you believe me or not, the review board will get to the truth."
"Indeed," Albright conceded, sitting in the high backed leather chair at the head of the table. "You do realize the full extent of the fallout that these allegations will bring?"
"I know," Erica stated. And she did. It wasn't going to be pretty but there was no way she could let this slide. None.
"We will most likely lose our transplant certification," Albright informed her anyway. "We may very well lose our accreditation or at the very least be put on probation. We will lose a good portion of our residents. On the heels of our drop in rank, our funding will no doubt be slashed. Our trauma center might very well be closed, our clinic most certainly. Staff will be trimmed, jobs will be lost. Seattle Grace will be a shell of it's former self, barely a blip on the medical radar and the city of Seattle will lose an invaluable resource. That's a lot of carnage to be the standard bearer for."
Erica was not moved. "I can handle it."
Albright sipped her scotch. "I bet you can, but is this really justice in your eyes?"
"People trusted their lives to us and we failed them," Erica said, feeling the outrage course through her veins. She turned to Richard. "You failed them and worse you lied about it. When you were handed your license you took an oath, Richard. For whatever reason in this case, you ignored your obligations as a physician and you allowed others to do the same. That's unforgivable." She whirled back to Albright. "So yeah, anything this place has coming to it is justice."
Albright leaned back in her chair and met Erica's glare. "You're a woman of high moral standards, I see. I admire that, Dr. Hahn. It's been decades since I practiced myself, and when I did, the oaths and ethics of the medical world held a dear place in my heart as well. Alas, I sold that part of my soul a long time ago to get to where I am. I'm a business woman now, which means I no longer have the luxury of personal integrity. So I ask you, what can I do, what can I offer you, that will appease you enough to not call for an investigation?"
Erica knew that question was coming. It didn't make her appreciate it any more. "Nothing."
"Come now. We can handle this in house much more efficiently than dragging all of this out in a public forum. We can start with dismissing those residents who were involved. Dr. Webber has been kind enough to provide a list."
Erica chuckled at that. "Of course he has." She glanced at him but his eyes were trained on the untouched glass in front of him. "It's not good enough," she said, looking back to Albright. "I want everyone involved punished."
"You mean you want Dr. Webber fired," Albright clarified.
"I mean the review board will investigate. It will hand down it's findings and the chips will fall where they fall. Despite how this looks, this isn't a personal vendetta. If Richard is fired, then it's because he needs to be fired, not because I want it."
"But you do want it?" Dr. Webber asked, eyes drifting up to meet hers.
Erica folded her hands on the table. "All I want is for someone to take responsibility for this mess."
They looked at one another. Richard looked tired, older. The fire that had been in his eyes just last night was dulled. He was a man defeated and they both knew it. He gave her a little nod and she she turned her attention back to Albright.
"Do I find this business shocking? Of course I do," Dr. Albright stated. "But it happened and nothing you do or say, Dr. Hahn, is going to change the facts. You can file your charges, you can metaphorically burn us to the ground if you like. But that is not going to bring justice and you know it. There is no such thing as justice in medicine. This isn't law enforcement, there is no eye for an eye here. There are only facts. Two of our patients died on our watch and that was through mistakes of gross negligence and extraordinary stupidity and hubris. Those are the facts as we know them. But, as scientists, we learn early on that mistakes are how we learn."
Erica laughed out loud. "Please don't tell me that you just tried to rationalize my patient's death as a learning experience."
Albright shrugged and took another sip of her cocktail. "Eh, it was worth a shot." She set the glass on the coaster in front of her and sat forward. "Fine. Let's play hardball. Here's my offer: You as the new chief of surgery." Erica could sense the shock from Webber next to her. It matched her own. She hadn't forseen this. "Think about it," Albright went on, "it makes perfect sense. It's a win/win."
Erica did think about it and she didn't like the implications. She'd agreed to this meeting as a courtesy, not to cut a deal and certainly not to whore out her principles. "It's a cop out and a sell out. No thanks."
"And you already have a chief," Richard chimed in, visibly shaken.
"Dr. Webber, I think it's more than evident that the board should have insisted upon your retirement the first time it was proposed. That was our mistake. It's time to correct it."
"I don't want it," Erica insisted. "Not like this. Not as some bribe to keep my mouth shut."
"Well, yes, it is that," Albright fully admitted, "but it's also a way for us to save face and get a good competent chief. It's a way for you to further your career and to actively clean up the mess, as you so eloquently put it, that has befallen our surgical program. You could simply be a whistle blower, Dr. Hahn, or you could be force for positive change within this hospital. Think about it, a surgical unit molded to your own designs."
Erica hated that she was tempted. On the surface, it was a sleazy offer but the prospect of the position and her own ambitions sliced into her reluctance. It was an incredible opportunity, even if it was being used as a wedge against her morals. As chief she really could affect change. The surgical program as it was currently being run was a disgrace. Off the top of her head, she could think of a half a dozen things she would change. She had no doubt in her own abilities to whip the program into shape, to make it one of the most efficient and well-respected in the country. But did that make it right? In the end, she didn't feel comfortable benefiting off of Mike's death. "While it's a tempting offer," Erica said, practically forcing the words from her mouth, "I don't think it's the right decision for me to make."
"You're worried about what message it sends," Albright deduced. "'The crusading Dr. Hahn gives up the fight for justice to pad her own pockets.' I agree that it certainly has a dark underpinning, but so does 'the crusading Dr. Hahn rejects a chance to better the hospital in order to spite it'."
"She's right," Richard quietly agreed. "Take the job, Erica. If you truly want justice and not just to see people suffer, then this is a perfect opportunity. I..." He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I admit, this past year or so, I haven't been as diligent in my position as I could have been, as I should have been. I've let things slide. Things have gotten out of hand. Those kids, those residents, are a reflection of the lessons I've taught them. Whatever mistakes they've made, they were my mistakes. They're good kids, Erica. They're good doctors, each and every one of them, and I've let them down. I let the hospital down. I let myself down."
Erica didn't know what to say to that. She agreed with everything he'd just said, but even she wasn't a big enough bitch to kick a man while he was down. "You did the best you could, Richard." It was a little backhanded but it was the best she could come up with.
He gave a grateful nod. "You could do better. You should take the job, Erica."
If only it was that easy. "But how do I live with myself if I don't report this? It's my duty as a physician."
"Dr. Hahn," Albright reasoned, "experience shows us that the ethical lines in the medical field can be very fine. Sometimes we must make difficult decisions, we must choose the lesser of two evils. You can report us and probably destroy us or you can help us, guide us."
"Erica, your primary responsibility as a physician is to save lives," Richard told her. "All you have to do is think about which decision saves more lives, you reporting us or you taking the job."
Another impossible decision. Erica sat back and closed her eyes, rubbing at her forehead and the encroaching headache.
*
Erica found Torres at the nursery, watching the newborns sleep and fuss. It always used to puzzle her the simple joy Callie got out of watching the babies, but as Erica stood and watched the other woman, she thought maybe she was beginning to understand. Not the baby thing because she still hated kids but, even carrying the burden of her haste from the night before, the sight of Callie brought a certain measure of warmth, of peace. There was an openness, an honestness, a gentleness of spirit about Callie that was like a balm to all of her wounds, even those that were self-inflicted. Probably especially those, and still she'd been careless with the other woman's feelings. The shame and regret of that stung.
She approached the viewing window, feeling the contrition settle over her. "Hi."
Callie glanced over, then looked back to the babies. "Dr. Hahn."
And that chilly reception let her know exactly how angry Callie still was. "Do you hate me?"
"No."
"I've been trying to call you all day."
"I know."
Callie was not making this easier on her. She didn't begrudge her that, but it made her fight for her footing, struggle to come up with the right words. "I thought today was your day off."
"I switched."
Erica sighed, already frustrated. She wasn't used to being in this position. Not with Torres. Callie was supposed to be the understanding one, the bedrock of their relationship. Seeing her so closed off was making Erica wonder if perhaps she didn't break this thing irreparably. "I'm sorry," she admitted, straining for words.
Callie didn't react immediately. Her eyes stayed glued to the large viewing window, to the babies beyond it. Erica didn't know whether she should say more or leave her be. She was lost and the fact that it was her own making didn't make it easier to take. She expelled another breath and started to move away when Callie's voice stopped her. "Are you sorry for stupidly quitting your job, for treating me like an unwanted nuisance or for breaking my heart?"
Erica flinched at that. She reached out a hand to touch the other woman, to reassure her, then seemed to remember where she was as her eyes drifted down the hallway. A purple clad resident was speaking in hushed tones to a nurse. She dropped her hand. "All of the above. I didn't mean to hurt you, Callie."
"And maybe that's what makes it hurt all the more. I didn't enter into your equation, Erica. You decided. You always decide." The emotions were blunted, her tone almost flat.
"Callie-"
"You're sorry," she said, turning and giving a bittersweet smile. "Good. That's good, but my heart is still broken."
Erica took a step closer. "I'm so sorry, Callie."
"I know you are. So am I." Callie turned back to the babies.
Erica turned as well, frowning in thought. Most of the infants were asleep, swaddled tightly in either pale blue or pink, little coordinated hats on their heads, a few squirmed, scrunching their faces in discomfort. "Richard retired this afternoon," she disclosed. That got Callie's attention. "I was offered the position."
"Oh my God, that's-" Callie's burst of enthusiasm quickly waned. She shook her head, realization in her brown eyes. "That's the final nail, isn't it?"
Erica knew exactly what Callie meant. They both knew she couldn't be chief of surgery and date a resident. Still, she gave a weak shrug. "I haven't accepted."
"Come on, Erica. You have to accept."
"I don't have to do anything," she snapped.
"'Oh right." Callie gave a brittle laugh. "You're going to turn down a Chief of Surgery position? Why? For me? Erica, you freaked out just last night because you chose me over your career. You're not going to do that again. I'm not going to let you. I'm not going to give you the chance."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that if you turn that job down because you don't want to be your girlfriend's boss, because you think you're going to have to break up with me, don't bother. We're not together and we're not going to be. Take the damn job." Callie turned and started off down the hall. Erica quickly caught her and spun her, heedless of any eyes that might be on them. She was tired of the fight. Tired of her inner seas always roiling. For once she wanted peace. She wanted stillness. She wanted Callie.
"It's not that simple, Torres," she seethed.
Callie jutted her chin. "Yes, it is. It's over. It's done."
Erica grabbed her by the shoulders, barely restraining herself from shaking her. "Not for me."
"Well then I feel bad for you, Dr. Hahn."
"Goddamn it, Torres, why are you acting like this? Is it because you're still pissed about last night? I'm sorry, okay? I was out of line, I was freaking out."
"I know all this, Erica. You said all this."
She wanted to scream her frustration, her helplessness. " You don't understand," she insisted.
"What's to understand? You chose me, you freaked out over that choice. I think I get it, Erica."
"No, you don't." This time she did shake her, just once. "Last night I was scared. No, I was terrified."
"Of what? Having a human-like emotion?" Callie's flip response was like a slap to the face and it got her blood up.
She shook her harder, then pulled her closer, close enough that she had to look down to make eye contact. "Of loving you."
And there it was. The admission she didn't want to make to anyone, especially herself. It hung between them. Callie's eyes darted away and she pulled loose of Erica's suddenly slack grip. A nurse shuffled by, purposefully not looking at them. Callie watched her all the way down the hall then turned to where Erica had slouched against the wall. "You love me?"
"I don't believe in love," Erica stated, with absolutely no conviction. She wasn't sure if it was a truth that had suddenly become a lie or if it had always just been a lie. It no longer mattered. She was in love and she could no longer deny that. She'd been sucked into this drippy, nonsensical world that she'd never wanted to be aparty to. It was an unsettling realization.
Callie slouched next to her. "I love you too, Erica." Not a grand declaration, but a simple statement. "It's not enough though. Not this time."
"It never was," Erica concluded.
"No, that's not true," Callie disagreed. "It was enough before. It was hard, but we could have made this work."
The past tense hurt, but she was out of excuses, out of options. She resigned herself to life without Callie. "I'm taking the job."
"I know." Callie expelled a loud breath and leaned her head on her shoulder. They stood that way for several minutes, the hospital going on heedlessly around them. It was Callie who finally broke the silence. "I have four months left in my residency."
"And?"
"And there are plenty of other hospitals in Seattle."
Erica leaned her cheek against Callie's dark hair. "Don't settle, Torres. Go where the best opportunity is."
"I am." The softly spoken words held a promise and Erica couldn't help the tiny, crooked grin.
"This is just never going to be easy, is it?"
"Sure it is," Callie disagreed. "Someday we'll look back at this and laugh."
"Liar."
"Yeah."
They shared a sigh.
Rating and warnings: TV14ish. No sex (sorry). A little language sprinkled in for flavoring. And, what's this? Angst? Of course it is.
Personal note: I'm winding this story down because all this melodrama is making me bitchy. Yeah, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. It's the fiction doing it, I swear.
There's going to be one more chapter after this one.
So, here we go...
Chapter 6
"Are these allegations true, Dr. Webber?" Dr. Cornelia Albright, chair of the hospital's current board, walked to the conference room's small bar and hefted a crystal decanter. She poured out three glasses of the amber liquor.
"As presented? Not entirely. No."
Albright walked the three glasses to the highly polished table, placing one in front of Richard, one in front of Erica. "Richard, this is no time to split hairs. Either they're true or they're not."
"They're true," Erica assured her.
"You'll excuse me if I don't take your word as gospel, Dr. Hahn," Albright said, taking a sip of her drink.
Erica shrugged that away. There was a certain comfort in knowing she was undeniably on the right side of this subject. "I don't care if you believe me or not, the review board will get to the truth."
"Indeed," Albright conceded, sitting in the high backed leather chair at the head of the table. "You do realize the full extent of the fallout that these allegations will bring?"
"I know," Erica stated. And she did. It wasn't going to be pretty but there was no way she could let this slide. None.
"We will most likely lose our transplant certification," Albright informed her anyway. "We may very well lose our accreditation or at the very least be put on probation. We will lose a good portion of our residents. On the heels of our drop in rank, our funding will no doubt be slashed. Our trauma center might very well be closed, our clinic most certainly. Staff will be trimmed, jobs will be lost. Seattle Grace will be a shell of it's former self, barely a blip on the medical radar and the city of Seattle will lose an invaluable resource. That's a lot of carnage to be the standard bearer for."
Erica was not moved. "I can handle it."
Albright sipped her scotch. "I bet you can, but is this really justice in your eyes?"
"People trusted their lives to us and we failed them," Erica said, feeling the outrage course through her veins. She turned to Richard. "You failed them and worse you lied about it. When you were handed your license you took an oath, Richard. For whatever reason in this case, you ignored your obligations as a physician and you allowed others to do the same. That's unforgivable." She whirled back to Albright. "So yeah, anything this place has coming to it is justice."
Albright leaned back in her chair and met Erica's glare. "You're a woman of high moral standards, I see. I admire that, Dr. Hahn. It's been decades since I practiced myself, and when I did, the oaths and ethics of the medical world held a dear place in my heart as well. Alas, I sold that part of my soul a long time ago to get to where I am. I'm a business woman now, which means I no longer have the luxury of personal integrity. So I ask you, what can I do, what can I offer you, that will appease you enough to not call for an investigation?"
Erica knew that question was coming. It didn't make her appreciate it any more. "Nothing."
"Come now. We can handle this in house much more efficiently than dragging all of this out in a public forum. We can start with dismissing those residents who were involved. Dr. Webber has been kind enough to provide a list."
Erica chuckled at that. "Of course he has." She glanced at him but his eyes were trained on the untouched glass in front of him. "It's not good enough," she said, looking back to Albright. "I want everyone involved punished."
"You mean you want Dr. Webber fired," Albright clarified.
"I mean the review board will investigate. It will hand down it's findings and the chips will fall where they fall. Despite how this looks, this isn't a personal vendetta. If Richard is fired, then it's because he needs to be fired, not because I want it."
"But you do want it?" Dr. Webber asked, eyes drifting up to meet hers.
Erica folded her hands on the table. "All I want is for someone to take responsibility for this mess."
They looked at one another. Richard looked tired, older. The fire that had been in his eyes just last night was dulled. He was a man defeated and they both knew it. He gave her a little nod and she she turned her attention back to Albright.
"Do I find this business shocking? Of course I do," Dr. Albright stated. "But it happened and nothing you do or say, Dr. Hahn, is going to change the facts. You can file your charges, you can metaphorically burn us to the ground if you like. But that is not going to bring justice and you know it. There is no such thing as justice in medicine. This isn't law enforcement, there is no eye for an eye here. There are only facts. Two of our patients died on our watch and that was through mistakes of gross negligence and extraordinary stupidity and hubris. Those are the facts as we know them. But, as scientists, we learn early on that mistakes are how we learn."
Erica laughed out loud. "Please don't tell me that you just tried to rationalize my patient's death as a learning experience."
Albright shrugged and took another sip of her cocktail. "Eh, it was worth a shot." She set the glass on the coaster in front of her and sat forward. "Fine. Let's play hardball. Here's my offer: You as the new chief of surgery." Erica could sense the shock from Webber next to her. It matched her own. She hadn't forseen this. "Think about it," Albright went on, "it makes perfect sense. It's a win/win."
Erica did think about it and she didn't like the implications. She'd agreed to this meeting as a courtesy, not to cut a deal and certainly not to whore out her principles. "It's a cop out and a sell out. No thanks."
"And you already have a chief," Richard chimed in, visibly shaken.
"Dr. Webber, I think it's more than evident that the board should have insisted upon your retirement the first time it was proposed. That was our mistake. It's time to correct it."
"I don't want it," Erica insisted. "Not like this. Not as some bribe to keep my mouth shut."
"Well, yes, it is that," Albright fully admitted, "but it's also a way for us to save face and get a good competent chief. It's a way for you to further your career and to actively clean up the mess, as you so eloquently put it, that has befallen our surgical program. You could simply be a whistle blower, Dr. Hahn, or you could be force for positive change within this hospital. Think about it, a surgical unit molded to your own designs."
Erica hated that she was tempted. On the surface, it was a sleazy offer but the prospect of the position and her own ambitions sliced into her reluctance. It was an incredible opportunity, even if it was being used as a wedge against her morals. As chief she really could affect change. The surgical program as it was currently being run was a disgrace. Off the top of her head, she could think of a half a dozen things she would change. She had no doubt in her own abilities to whip the program into shape, to make it one of the most efficient and well-respected in the country. But did that make it right? In the end, she didn't feel comfortable benefiting off of Mike's death. "While it's a tempting offer," Erica said, practically forcing the words from her mouth, "I don't think it's the right decision for me to make."
"You're worried about what message it sends," Albright deduced. "'The crusading Dr. Hahn gives up the fight for justice to pad her own pockets.' I agree that it certainly has a dark underpinning, but so does 'the crusading Dr. Hahn rejects a chance to better the hospital in order to spite it'."
"She's right," Richard quietly agreed. "Take the job, Erica. If you truly want justice and not just to see people suffer, then this is a perfect opportunity. I..." He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I admit, this past year or so, I haven't been as diligent in my position as I could have been, as I should have been. I've let things slide. Things have gotten out of hand. Those kids, those residents, are a reflection of the lessons I've taught them. Whatever mistakes they've made, they were my mistakes. They're good kids, Erica. They're good doctors, each and every one of them, and I've let them down. I let the hospital down. I let myself down."
Erica didn't know what to say to that. She agreed with everything he'd just said, but even she wasn't a big enough bitch to kick a man while he was down. "You did the best you could, Richard." It was a little backhanded but it was the best she could come up with.
He gave a grateful nod. "You could do better. You should take the job, Erica."
If only it was that easy. "But how do I live with myself if I don't report this? It's my duty as a physician."
"Dr. Hahn," Albright reasoned, "experience shows us that the ethical lines in the medical field can be very fine. Sometimes we must make difficult decisions, we must choose the lesser of two evils. You can report us and probably destroy us or you can help us, guide us."
"Erica, your primary responsibility as a physician is to save lives," Richard told her. "All you have to do is think about which decision saves more lives, you reporting us or you taking the job."
Another impossible decision. Erica sat back and closed her eyes, rubbing at her forehead and the encroaching headache.
*
Erica found Torres at the nursery, watching the newborns sleep and fuss. It always used to puzzle her the simple joy Callie got out of watching the babies, but as Erica stood and watched the other woman, she thought maybe she was beginning to understand. Not the baby thing because she still hated kids but, even carrying the burden of her haste from the night before, the sight of Callie brought a certain measure of warmth, of peace. There was an openness, an honestness, a gentleness of spirit about Callie that was like a balm to all of her wounds, even those that were self-inflicted. Probably especially those, and still she'd been careless with the other woman's feelings. The shame and regret of that stung.
She approached the viewing window, feeling the contrition settle over her. "Hi."
Callie glanced over, then looked back to the babies. "Dr. Hahn."
And that chilly reception let her know exactly how angry Callie still was. "Do you hate me?"
"No."
"I've been trying to call you all day."
"I know."
Callie was not making this easier on her. She didn't begrudge her that, but it made her fight for her footing, struggle to come up with the right words. "I thought today was your day off."
"I switched."
Erica sighed, already frustrated. She wasn't used to being in this position. Not with Torres. Callie was supposed to be the understanding one, the bedrock of their relationship. Seeing her so closed off was making Erica wonder if perhaps she didn't break this thing irreparably. "I'm sorry," she admitted, straining for words.
Callie didn't react immediately. Her eyes stayed glued to the large viewing window, to the babies beyond it. Erica didn't know whether she should say more or leave her be. She was lost and the fact that it was her own making didn't make it easier to take. She expelled another breath and started to move away when Callie's voice stopped her. "Are you sorry for stupidly quitting your job, for treating me like an unwanted nuisance or for breaking my heart?"
Erica flinched at that. She reached out a hand to touch the other woman, to reassure her, then seemed to remember where she was as her eyes drifted down the hallway. A purple clad resident was speaking in hushed tones to a nurse. She dropped her hand. "All of the above. I didn't mean to hurt you, Callie."
"And maybe that's what makes it hurt all the more. I didn't enter into your equation, Erica. You decided. You always decide." The emotions were blunted, her tone almost flat.
"Callie-"
"You're sorry," she said, turning and giving a bittersweet smile. "Good. That's good, but my heart is still broken."
Erica took a step closer. "I'm so sorry, Callie."
"I know you are. So am I." Callie turned back to the babies.
Erica turned as well, frowning in thought. Most of the infants were asleep, swaddled tightly in either pale blue or pink, little coordinated hats on their heads, a few squirmed, scrunching their faces in discomfort. "Richard retired this afternoon," she disclosed. That got Callie's attention. "I was offered the position."
"Oh my God, that's-" Callie's burst of enthusiasm quickly waned. She shook her head, realization in her brown eyes. "That's the final nail, isn't it?"
Erica knew exactly what Callie meant. They both knew she couldn't be chief of surgery and date a resident. Still, she gave a weak shrug. "I haven't accepted."
"Come on, Erica. You have to accept."
"I don't have to do anything," she snapped.
"'Oh right." Callie gave a brittle laugh. "You're going to turn down a Chief of Surgery position? Why? For me? Erica, you freaked out just last night because you chose me over your career. You're not going to do that again. I'm not going to let you. I'm not going to give you the chance."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that if you turn that job down because you don't want to be your girlfriend's boss, because you think you're going to have to break up with me, don't bother. We're not together and we're not going to be. Take the damn job." Callie turned and started off down the hall. Erica quickly caught her and spun her, heedless of any eyes that might be on them. She was tired of the fight. Tired of her inner seas always roiling. For once she wanted peace. She wanted stillness. She wanted Callie.
"It's not that simple, Torres," she seethed.
Callie jutted her chin. "Yes, it is. It's over. It's done."
Erica grabbed her by the shoulders, barely restraining herself from shaking her. "Not for me."
"Well then I feel bad for you, Dr. Hahn."
"Goddamn it, Torres, why are you acting like this? Is it because you're still pissed about last night? I'm sorry, okay? I was out of line, I was freaking out."
"I know all this, Erica. You said all this."
She wanted to scream her frustration, her helplessness. " You don't understand," she insisted.
"What's to understand? You chose me, you freaked out over that choice. I think I get it, Erica."
"No, you don't." This time she did shake her, just once. "Last night I was scared. No, I was terrified."
"Of what? Having a human-like emotion?" Callie's flip response was like a slap to the face and it got her blood up.
She shook her harder, then pulled her closer, close enough that she had to look down to make eye contact. "Of loving you."
And there it was. The admission she didn't want to make to anyone, especially herself. It hung between them. Callie's eyes darted away and she pulled loose of Erica's suddenly slack grip. A nurse shuffled by, purposefully not looking at them. Callie watched her all the way down the hall then turned to where Erica had slouched against the wall. "You love me?"
"I don't believe in love," Erica stated, with absolutely no conviction. She wasn't sure if it was a truth that had suddenly become a lie or if it had always just been a lie. It no longer mattered. She was in love and she could no longer deny that. She'd been sucked into this drippy, nonsensical world that she'd never wanted to be aparty to. It was an unsettling realization.
Callie slouched next to her. "I love you too, Erica." Not a grand declaration, but a simple statement. "It's not enough though. Not this time."
"It never was," Erica concluded.
"No, that's not true," Callie disagreed. "It was enough before. It was hard, but we could have made this work."
The past tense hurt, but she was out of excuses, out of options. She resigned herself to life without Callie. "I'm taking the job."
"I know." Callie expelled a loud breath and leaned her head on her shoulder. They stood that way for several minutes, the hospital going on heedlessly around them. It was Callie who finally broke the silence. "I have four months left in my residency."
"And?"
"And there are plenty of other hospitals in Seattle."
Erica leaned her cheek against Callie's dark hair. "Don't settle, Torres. Go where the best opportunity is."
"I am." The softly spoken words held a promise and Erica couldn't help the tiny, crooked grin.
"This is just never going to be easy, is it?"
"Sure it is," Callie disagreed. "Someday we'll look back at this and laugh."
"Liar."
"Yeah."
They shared a sigh.