All that's yours, part 2
Title: All that used to be mine
Characters: Erica/OC, Callie, Christina
Rating: R
Words: 3601
A/N: This is a sort of AU fic, but they're still doctors. It's inspired by the Swedish Säkert!-song "Allt som är ditt", "all that's yours". This part is written from Callie's POV (I'll probably alternate between Erica and Callie's POV for every update of this one).
Warning! Angst!
I feel my wrist being yanked back violently, at the same time as a big hand clamps down over my mouth. His thumb is on my nose, his index finger directly under my nose nearly blocking my air supply. His hand smells of sweat and some kind of oil, maybe motor oil. The words are loud in the evening air, surrounding me, strangling me.
“If you scream, you die.”
He forcefully spins me around and the glee on his face is almost too much to comprehend. I don't understand, he looks perfectly normal, like an average guy.
He pins me down, his weight on top of me, one of his hands around my neck, forcing me to fight for air. The tears stream down my face while he pumps inside of me, and the sound of his ragged breathing echos in my mind.
***
“Ms. Torres...” A hand strokes my arm lightly, at first blending with my dream, making me think the man who took everything from me is in the room. As my dream starts to fade away, I hear a woman's voice saying my name, rousing me from the nightmare.
“Ms. Torres, wake up... You were having a bad dream.” The soft voice is almost a whisper as it guides me back to reality. Seeing my surroundings, I start wondering if it's any better than the nightmare I just had. It's been two days since I thought I would die, and two days I've spent in hell. I reluctantly turn around to face whoever woke me up, and see it's the surgeon with the incredibly blue eyes, the one who said she'd help me if there was anything I needed. I don't think I've ever said that to a patient of mine, so I must look even worse than I feel.
“Hey, there...” Those blue eyes are soft and sweet, and I don't know what it is about that woman's presence, but she makes me feel a little safer. Maybe it's the fact that I know she saved my life in surgery. “I'm sorry I woke you up, but you looked like you were dreaming something horrible.”
“Yeah, I was...” My voice sounds gravelly and unfamiliar to me, and I clear my voice before I continue. “Thank you for waking me. What time is it?”
“Nearly 4 AM. You should get some sleep.” She looks a little worried, and maybe a little guilty for waking a patient who needs rest.
“No, I can't... I don't want to have that dream again.” I try to steady my voice but it comes out a little shaky and I can see she picked up on it. She looks at me for a few seconds, like she's trying to decide on something.
“Do you...” She looks around, even though we're alone. “Do you want me to... stay with you for a while?” There's no pity in her eyes, only compassion. I desperately want to say yes, and cling on to her if she tries to leave. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts, my dreams, or my irrational fear of the guy who did this to me finding out that I survived and coming to the hospital.
“I'm sure you have better, more important things to do.” I force a smile.
“Actually, I'm on my lunch break.” She rolls her eyes at her choice of words. “Or, meal break I guess, considering it's in the middle of the night.”
“But you need to eat...”, I say, silently hoping she'll say she doesn't.
“I ate, I just came from the cafeteria”, she smiles.
“In that case, I'd love it if you stayed a while.” I manage to smile weakly back at her. She gives me a short nod and sits down next to my bed.
“I'm Erica Hahn, by the way. I introduced myself yesterday, but I'm sure you don't remember, you must have been pretty groggy from the meds. So, I hear you're a doctor too?” I'm relieved she changes the subject which always hangs in the air.
“Yeah, I'm a fifth-year Ortho resident at Seattle Grace”, I say, instantly feeling a tiny bit better now that we're talking about something within my comfort zone.
“Ortho, huh? I have to admit that I never got really interested in Ortho...”
“You probably think we're carpenters, right?” She chuckles a little and it makes me smile.
“Not exactly. Obviously, given my career choice, there are other fields I'm more interested in, but I could tell you some stories about Ortho residents and attendings saving the day.”
I nod, not knowing what to say next, and not feeling up to saying much either. She obviously notices, because she pauses, looks at me and lets out a breath.
“You should really get some rest. You probably don't want anything to help you sleep...?”
“No. No, I don't want to wind up in a bad dream.”
She studies me for a little while, looking like she's contemplating something.
“How about I tell you a story to give you something completely different to think about?”
For the first time in days, I manage a genuine smile. “I'd like that.”
“Ok. So, I've got this dog called Beau, or rather, me and my husband, Gary, have him together. He's like our substitute for a child.” Her voice is soothing; it's so quiet, warm, calm and low, I think I could listen to it forever. She talks slowly and almost whispers as she tells me a story from her everyday life. “I was out walking him the other day, and this guy comes up to me, says hi to the dog and doesn't even look at me. He kneels down next to Beau and starts talking to him about me, saying things like 'is that gorgeous woman there your owner', and I can't do anything but try to hold back the laughter at the world's worst attempt of picking someone up. Anyway, I think even Beau thought he was ridiculous, because...” The words fades as they lull me back to sleep.
The next time I wake up, I see the same surgeon sitting in the same chair. When she sees me stir, she looks up from the paperwork in her lap and takes her reading glasses off.
“Hey, you... Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, ok... You weren't here the entire time, right?” I start to feel embarrassed that a cardiothoracic surgeon spends her time doing something a nurse could do, and quite frankly something neither of them should have to do.
“No, I had rounds, some post-ops and a lot of paperwork to get through. After a while I thought I could just bring the paperwork here, so I could talk to you before...” She trails off.
“Before what?”
I see a whole range of emotions play over her features, but they're gone before I can pinpoint what they are.
“I wanted to ask you something...” The calm surgeon struggles for words, and moves her chair closer to my bed.. “Uhm... In a while, Dr. Richards will come see you and ask if she can do an exam...” I know where this is heading and my mouth goes dry. “So that it will be easier to get the person who did this to you.” She knows she won't have to explain any further, because as a fellow medical professional I'm well aware of what a rape kit is. I just never imagined I would have to go through that myself.
“I know it seems like it only makes things worse”, I know when she says 'things', she means 'the rape'. “...But the bastard who did this shouldn't be allowed to walk free.”
I can't answer, I'm too wrapped up in imagining having to feel violated all over again. I know she's right, though, and I can't live with myself knowing I could have done something to make sure that monster gets punished, and didn't.
“Would you... Could you please be in the room with me when...” I can't even say the words.
“Sure.” She doesn't even hesitate. I suddenly feel really stupid, asking a skilled surgeon to babysit me when she probably has lots of other things to do.
“No, just forget I asked... I'm sure you're busy and it's not your job to help me through this. You already did your job and saved my life.”
“Really, it's no problem. My shift ends soon and I want to make sure you're ok.” She smiles warmly and I feel strangely reassured by that. Maybe I feel safe with her because she already saved my life once, so I'm subconsciously thinking she can somehow keep me safe.
“But if your shift ends I'm sure you want to go home to your husband.” I try to sound brave, but I feel like her staying is the only way I can cope with the exam they're asking me to go through.
“That's ok. He'll be at work anyway, and I don't have anything I need to do. Don't worry about it.” She puts a hand on mine and I decide to let her do this for me. I need her to.
“Ok. Thank you.”
“It's no problem.”
“No, really. Thank you.” She smiles at me, and my tense muscles relax.
***
When Dr. Richards arrives, she tells me she will have to do the exam with me still lying in my bed, because I'm still too injured to move much. I nod pale-facedly. I catch a look of surprise on her face as Erica tells her she will stay in the room. Apparently Erica really isn't this invested in all her patients. Pulling her aside, Dr. Richards gazes at her quizzically.
“Dr. Hahn, I can get a nurse to come in here.” I hold my breath, hoping Erica will say she'll stay.
“No, that's ok, I don't have anything else to do right now.” I steal a glance at them, and notice the cold look in her icy blue eyes that I've never seen when she talks to me.
“But you just got off a long shift---”
“Dr. Richards, it's fine. Now can we please get this over with?” The ice reaches her voice, and Dr. Richards simply nods.
***
All my injuries are being exposed and taken pictures of, while Erica sits next to my bed and talks to me, looking at my face only, like I wasn't lying there with most of me naked, even though she saw me naked in surgery and will have to examine the stitches later. Her deep blue eyes are fixed on my gaze as she tells me stories about her most memorable surgeries, things about the staff or her husband, funny everyday stories, anything to take my mind off what's happening. Dr. Richards seems very nice, and she's extremely gentle with me. Still, when she tugs on my hips to move me further down the bed, and slowly lifts the leg that has no cast, bending my leg at the knee, placing the sole of my foot flat on the bed, gaining better access for the pelvic exam, my whole body tenses and Erica catches the look of desperation on my face. She moves closer and grabs my hand, stroking her thumb across my knuckles gently. Her other hand rests on my forearm, where it traces soothing circles.
“You should have seen the trauma we got in some days back, this boy had been playing on a construction site, and he fell down from the scaffolding. He came in with a metal rod through his thoracic cavity.” I hear Erica's words, but it's hard to listen to them when I feel Dr. Richards finish up the collecting of pubic hairs and I know what's coming next. Erica sees the emotions laid out on my features and leans in closer. The bluest eyes I've ever seen take on a determined sparkle as she gazes intently into my eyes.
“I'm here. Just focus on me. I'll get you through this, ok? You know the procedure, you know it won't take long, and you know this isn't like the bastard who violated you. This is you getting your revenge. We will find his DNA and nail the son of a bitch.” I close my eyes when I feel Dr. Richards' hands systematically touch me, and I flinch as I hear her say that she will insert the speculum next. I don't usually mind pelvic exams that much, but these days everything's different and I feel like I'm losing the little dignity I have left. Lying here, vulnerable and exposed, is a painful reminder and the last thing I need.
“Look at me.” Erica's voice is soft and insistent. I open my eyes and see her standing over me, looking into my eyes. It helps to know she's there, but I don't think anything can make this ok. I shift my gaze and look down at Dr. Richards, whose eyes are full of pity. I hear Erica tell her to hurry up and get it over with and I feel a tear escape my eye as she follows her orders. I look back at Erica and she moves her hand from my forearm to brush the pad of her thumb over my cheek, wiping the tear off.
“Please tell me something”, I plead with her, desperate to get something else on my mind, although the situation I'm in makes that virtually impossible.
“I tumble-dried my iPod.” The words coming out of the calm, experienced surgeon's mouth are just so unexpected that my mouth opens a little.
“Yeah, I know, stupid, right? I once heard about a guy who machine washed his iPod and thought to myself, who does that. But then last week I went out for a walk with Beau and it started raining. It wasn't just drizzling, it was pouring down. My jacket was soaked by the time I got back, and I got the brilliant idea of putting it in the dryer.” Her eyes are sparkling with amusement as she's retelling a story which is mostly about her own stupidity, and I can't help but smile at how easy a strong woman like her can make fun of herself. “So, with my iPod lying in the pocket I always keep it in, I throw the jacket in the dryer and off I go to have a shower. I'm taking my time in the bathroom, and by the time I realize what I've done and run through the house with only a towel wrapped around me, dripping water all over the floors, a confused Beau on my heels, it's already ruined.” She rolls her eyes at herself, and I can picture the scene so well in my mind.
“Ok, we're all done here”, Dr. Richards says as she snaps a glove off her hand. Erica gives me a wide smile that radiates “I knew you'd make it” and I can't help but smile right back at her. “So, I'll get the samples tested, and... Well, you know all of this anyway, right?” Dr. Richards looks at me and I nod, not really wanting to hear the rest of her explanations anyway, because it makes this whole thing more real.
“I'll take it from here”, Erica says, and Dr. Richards stands there a few seconds, looking at Erica, before nodding at her, saying a curt “Dr. Hahn” and walking out of the room. Erica smiles at me, and I want to make sure she knows I don't want to talk about it.
“So, the dryer, huh? Good place for electronics, I've heard.” Relief visibly washes over her from hearing me say something close to a joke.
“Yeah, I thought so.” She smirks and helps me move up the bed again and settle in comfortably. She helps me get dressed, always making sure she looks away or at my face instead of the body parts she's helping me cover up. When she's sure I'm comfortable, she looks at me and hooks a thumb over her shoulder.
“I just have to go take care of something, but I'll be back in ten minutes, okay?” The worry is evident in her eyes, and I wonder why I feel disappointed by her leaving. After all, she's a busy surgeon, she has better things to do than babysit me, as I've told myself several times. I nod at her, forcing myself to not let the disappointment show on my face. She gives me a last smile before she turns around and heads out of the room.
I lie there smiling, thinking about how she tried so hard to make this morning more bearable for me, and how she succeed in doing just that. I can still see her pretty blue eyes locked on mine, watching me intently.
***
“I didn't know which kind you liked best, so I got a couple of different ones”, Erica says sheepishly as she comes through the door of my room, her arms full of ice cream. “The weather is amazing today, it hasn't been this warm since August, you'd hardly believe it's fall outside. I thought since you can't go outside, at least you should get ice cream.” Ok, it's official, I'm getting special treatment from the hospital's cardiothoracic surgeon. I try not to show just how surprised I am, because I'm scared she'll think the ice cream was a silly idea, so instead I thank her over and over, saying it wasn't necessary. As she asks me to choose between the five different ice creams she bought, I feel myself get so touched that I have to swallow the lump in my throat.
She sits down after handing me the ice cream I chose, and takes one for herself. We sit there and eat, and I have to smile.
“What?” She smiles back at me.
“No, it's just, I feel like a kid who gets ice cream from her mom after 'being good' at a doctor's appointment.” I give her a lopsided smile which grows as she starts laughing.
We talk, joke and laugh, and for a good while I'm able to put everything I've been through at the back of my mind. She's in the middle of a story when we hear a knock on the door frame, and Christina stands there, smiling at me, probably because she sees me smile. We greet each other, and my blonde companion for the last few hours hurriedly gets up and throws the rest of the now melted ice creams in a nearby trash can. That'll give the cleaners something to wonder about. I'm expecting Erica to sit down again now that she's disposed of our early morning splurge evidence, but instead, she gathers the paperwork that had been lying neglected in a corner of the room since I woke up earlier that morning.
“Erica, you don't have to go”, I say, immediately annoyed with myself for calling her 'Erica' instead of 'Dr. Hahn'. She is my doctor after all, and I should know better than letting the boundaries of professionalism blur. She gives me a quick smile, obviously not minding the slip of my tongue, before answering.
“No, I really should, Beau's waiting for me.” She nods at Christina before walking briskly out of the room.
“Hey, Cal... You look better”, Christina says.
“I think things might be getting better now”, I smile, wondering when I'll see Erica again.
“Hey, was that Dr. Hahn?” Christina sits down on the same chair Erica had just been sitting on and pulls it closer, anxious to hear my answer.
“Uhm, yeah, Erica Hahn. She's the surgeon who operated on me. Well, one of them.”
“Dude, she's Erica Hahn!! She's like... God in cardiothoracics!” Her eagerness makes me laugh and she responds by giving me a bright smile. I didn't know my non-friend Christina Yang could smile that brightly, I sure haven't seen that before.
“She seems really cool.” I nod, as if affirming my own words.
“How long was she here? What did you talk about? Did she mention any surgeries she had? And who's Beau, is that her husband?” When Christina gets excited, it just spills over and her excitement ends up affecting everyone in the room.
“Well, she did talk about some surgeries, and Beau's not her husband, he's called Gary, Beau's her dog.”
“You sure got to know her a lot, I'm impressed. D'you think you could introduce me some day?”
“Well, we're not exactly friends.”
“Cal, you know her dog, for God's sake!” It occurs to me that all of a sudden I do know a lot about Erica, and it makes me smile again.
“I'm so glad to see you smile... You need to come back to work, you're missing out on so many cool surgeries, not to mention Meredith drama!” She begins to tell me about everything I missed, and although I'm touched she's here and that she cares so much about me, I can't help but wish she had come over later, so Erica would have stayed longer.
Characters: Erica/OC, Callie, Christina
Rating: R
Words: 3601
A/N: This is a sort of AU fic, but they're still doctors. It's inspired by the Swedish Säkert!-song "Allt som är ditt", "all that's yours". This part is written from Callie's POV (I'll probably alternate between Erica and Callie's POV for every update of this one).
Warning! Angst!
I feel my wrist being yanked back violently, at the same time as a big hand clamps down over my mouth. His thumb is on my nose, his index finger directly under my nose nearly blocking my air supply. His hand smells of sweat and some kind of oil, maybe motor oil. The words are loud in the evening air, surrounding me, strangling me.
“If you scream, you die.”
He forcefully spins me around and the glee on his face is almost too much to comprehend. I don't understand, he looks perfectly normal, like an average guy.
He pins me down, his weight on top of me, one of his hands around my neck, forcing me to fight for air. The tears stream down my face while he pumps inside of me, and the sound of his ragged breathing echos in my mind.
***
“Ms. Torres...” A hand strokes my arm lightly, at first blending with my dream, making me think the man who took everything from me is in the room. As my dream starts to fade away, I hear a woman's voice saying my name, rousing me from the nightmare.
“Ms. Torres, wake up... You were having a bad dream.” The soft voice is almost a whisper as it guides me back to reality. Seeing my surroundings, I start wondering if it's any better than the nightmare I just had. It's been two days since I thought I would die, and two days I've spent in hell. I reluctantly turn around to face whoever woke me up, and see it's the surgeon with the incredibly blue eyes, the one who said she'd help me if there was anything I needed. I don't think I've ever said that to a patient of mine, so I must look even worse than I feel.
“Hey, there...” Those blue eyes are soft and sweet, and I don't know what it is about that woman's presence, but she makes me feel a little safer. Maybe it's the fact that I know she saved my life in surgery. “I'm sorry I woke you up, but you looked like you were dreaming something horrible.”
“Yeah, I was...” My voice sounds gravelly and unfamiliar to me, and I clear my voice before I continue. “Thank you for waking me. What time is it?”
“Nearly 4 AM. You should get some sleep.” She looks a little worried, and maybe a little guilty for waking a patient who needs rest.
“No, I can't... I don't want to have that dream again.” I try to steady my voice but it comes out a little shaky and I can see she picked up on it. She looks at me for a few seconds, like she's trying to decide on something.
“Do you...” She looks around, even though we're alone. “Do you want me to... stay with you for a while?” There's no pity in her eyes, only compassion. I desperately want to say yes, and cling on to her if she tries to leave. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts, my dreams, or my irrational fear of the guy who did this to me finding out that I survived and coming to the hospital.
“I'm sure you have better, more important things to do.” I force a smile.
“Actually, I'm on my lunch break.” She rolls her eyes at her choice of words. “Or, meal break I guess, considering it's in the middle of the night.”
“But you need to eat...”, I say, silently hoping she'll say she doesn't.
“I ate, I just came from the cafeteria”, she smiles.
“In that case, I'd love it if you stayed a while.” I manage to smile weakly back at her. She gives me a short nod and sits down next to my bed.
“I'm Erica Hahn, by the way. I introduced myself yesterday, but I'm sure you don't remember, you must have been pretty groggy from the meds. So, I hear you're a doctor too?” I'm relieved she changes the subject which always hangs in the air.
“Yeah, I'm a fifth-year Ortho resident at Seattle Grace”, I say, instantly feeling a tiny bit better now that we're talking about something within my comfort zone.
“Ortho, huh? I have to admit that I never got really interested in Ortho...”
“You probably think we're carpenters, right?” She chuckles a little and it makes me smile.
“Not exactly. Obviously, given my career choice, there are other fields I'm more interested in, but I could tell you some stories about Ortho residents and attendings saving the day.”
I nod, not knowing what to say next, and not feeling up to saying much either. She obviously notices, because she pauses, looks at me and lets out a breath.
“You should really get some rest. You probably don't want anything to help you sleep...?”
“No. No, I don't want to wind up in a bad dream.”
She studies me for a little while, looking like she's contemplating something.
“How about I tell you a story to give you something completely different to think about?”
For the first time in days, I manage a genuine smile. “I'd like that.”
“Ok. So, I've got this dog called Beau, or rather, me and my husband, Gary, have him together. He's like our substitute for a child.” Her voice is soothing; it's so quiet, warm, calm and low, I think I could listen to it forever. She talks slowly and almost whispers as she tells me a story from her everyday life. “I was out walking him the other day, and this guy comes up to me, says hi to the dog and doesn't even look at me. He kneels down next to Beau and starts talking to him about me, saying things like 'is that gorgeous woman there your owner', and I can't do anything but try to hold back the laughter at the world's worst attempt of picking someone up. Anyway, I think even Beau thought he was ridiculous, because...” The words fades as they lull me back to sleep.
The next time I wake up, I see the same surgeon sitting in the same chair. When she sees me stir, she looks up from the paperwork in her lap and takes her reading glasses off.
“Hey, you... Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, ok... You weren't here the entire time, right?” I start to feel embarrassed that a cardiothoracic surgeon spends her time doing something a nurse could do, and quite frankly something neither of them should have to do.
“No, I had rounds, some post-ops and a lot of paperwork to get through. After a while I thought I could just bring the paperwork here, so I could talk to you before...” She trails off.
“Before what?”
I see a whole range of emotions play over her features, but they're gone before I can pinpoint what they are.
“I wanted to ask you something...” The calm surgeon struggles for words, and moves her chair closer to my bed.. “Uhm... In a while, Dr. Richards will come see you and ask if she can do an exam...” I know where this is heading and my mouth goes dry. “So that it will be easier to get the person who did this to you.” She knows she won't have to explain any further, because as a fellow medical professional I'm well aware of what a rape kit is. I just never imagined I would have to go through that myself.
“I know it seems like it only makes things worse”, I know when she says 'things', she means 'the rape'. “...But the bastard who did this shouldn't be allowed to walk free.”
I can't answer, I'm too wrapped up in imagining having to feel violated all over again. I know she's right, though, and I can't live with myself knowing I could have done something to make sure that monster gets punished, and didn't.
“Would you... Could you please be in the room with me when...” I can't even say the words.
“Sure.” She doesn't even hesitate. I suddenly feel really stupid, asking a skilled surgeon to babysit me when she probably has lots of other things to do.
“No, just forget I asked... I'm sure you're busy and it's not your job to help me through this. You already did your job and saved my life.”
“Really, it's no problem. My shift ends soon and I want to make sure you're ok.” She smiles warmly and I feel strangely reassured by that. Maybe I feel safe with her because she already saved my life once, so I'm subconsciously thinking she can somehow keep me safe.
“But if your shift ends I'm sure you want to go home to your husband.” I try to sound brave, but I feel like her staying is the only way I can cope with the exam they're asking me to go through.
“That's ok. He'll be at work anyway, and I don't have anything I need to do. Don't worry about it.” She puts a hand on mine and I decide to let her do this for me. I need her to.
“Ok. Thank you.”
“It's no problem.”
“No, really. Thank you.” She smiles at me, and my tense muscles relax.
***
When Dr. Richards arrives, she tells me she will have to do the exam with me still lying in my bed, because I'm still too injured to move much. I nod pale-facedly. I catch a look of surprise on her face as Erica tells her she will stay in the room. Apparently Erica really isn't this invested in all her patients. Pulling her aside, Dr. Richards gazes at her quizzically.
“Dr. Hahn, I can get a nurse to come in here.” I hold my breath, hoping Erica will say she'll stay.
“No, that's ok, I don't have anything else to do right now.” I steal a glance at them, and notice the cold look in her icy blue eyes that I've never seen when she talks to me.
“But you just got off a long shift---”
“Dr. Richards, it's fine. Now can we please get this over with?” The ice reaches her voice, and Dr. Richards simply nods.
***
All my injuries are being exposed and taken pictures of, while Erica sits next to my bed and talks to me, looking at my face only, like I wasn't lying there with most of me naked, even though she saw me naked in surgery and will have to examine the stitches later. Her deep blue eyes are fixed on my gaze as she tells me stories about her most memorable surgeries, things about the staff or her husband, funny everyday stories, anything to take my mind off what's happening. Dr. Richards seems very nice, and she's extremely gentle with me. Still, when she tugs on my hips to move me further down the bed, and slowly lifts the leg that has no cast, bending my leg at the knee, placing the sole of my foot flat on the bed, gaining better access for the pelvic exam, my whole body tenses and Erica catches the look of desperation on my face. She moves closer and grabs my hand, stroking her thumb across my knuckles gently. Her other hand rests on my forearm, where it traces soothing circles.
“You should have seen the trauma we got in some days back, this boy had been playing on a construction site, and he fell down from the scaffolding. He came in with a metal rod through his thoracic cavity.” I hear Erica's words, but it's hard to listen to them when I feel Dr. Richards finish up the collecting of pubic hairs and I know what's coming next. Erica sees the emotions laid out on my features and leans in closer. The bluest eyes I've ever seen take on a determined sparkle as she gazes intently into my eyes.
“I'm here. Just focus on me. I'll get you through this, ok? You know the procedure, you know it won't take long, and you know this isn't like the bastard who violated you. This is you getting your revenge. We will find his DNA and nail the son of a bitch.” I close my eyes when I feel Dr. Richards' hands systematically touch me, and I flinch as I hear her say that she will insert the speculum next. I don't usually mind pelvic exams that much, but these days everything's different and I feel like I'm losing the little dignity I have left. Lying here, vulnerable and exposed, is a painful reminder and the last thing I need.
“Look at me.” Erica's voice is soft and insistent. I open my eyes and see her standing over me, looking into my eyes. It helps to know she's there, but I don't think anything can make this ok. I shift my gaze and look down at Dr. Richards, whose eyes are full of pity. I hear Erica tell her to hurry up and get it over with and I feel a tear escape my eye as she follows her orders. I look back at Erica and she moves her hand from my forearm to brush the pad of her thumb over my cheek, wiping the tear off.
“Please tell me something”, I plead with her, desperate to get something else on my mind, although the situation I'm in makes that virtually impossible.
“I tumble-dried my iPod.” The words coming out of the calm, experienced surgeon's mouth are just so unexpected that my mouth opens a little.
“Yeah, I know, stupid, right? I once heard about a guy who machine washed his iPod and thought to myself, who does that. But then last week I went out for a walk with Beau and it started raining. It wasn't just drizzling, it was pouring down. My jacket was soaked by the time I got back, and I got the brilliant idea of putting it in the dryer.” Her eyes are sparkling with amusement as she's retelling a story which is mostly about her own stupidity, and I can't help but smile at how easy a strong woman like her can make fun of herself. “So, with my iPod lying in the pocket I always keep it in, I throw the jacket in the dryer and off I go to have a shower. I'm taking my time in the bathroom, and by the time I realize what I've done and run through the house with only a towel wrapped around me, dripping water all over the floors, a confused Beau on my heels, it's already ruined.” She rolls her eyes at herself, and I can picture the scene so well in my mind.
“Ok, we're all done here”, Dr. Richards says as she snaps a glove off her hand. Erica gives me a wide smile that radiates “I knew you'd make it” and I can't help but smile right back at her. “So, I'll get the samples tested, and... Well, you know all of this anyway, right?” Dr. Richards looks at me and I nod, not really wanting to hear the rest of her explanations anyway, because it makes this whole thing more real.
“I'll take it from here”, Erica says, and Dr. Richards stands there a few seconds, looking at Erica, before nodding at her, saying a curt “Dr. Hahn” and walking out of the room. Erica smiles at me, and I want to make sure she knows I don't want to talk about it.
“So, the dryer, huh? Good place for electronics, I've heard.” Relief visibly washes over her from hearing me say something close to a joke.
“Yeah, I thought so.” She smirks and helps me move up the bed again and settle in comfortably. She helps me get dressed, always making sure she looks away or at my face instead of the body parts she's helping me cover up. When she's sure I'm comfortable, she looks at me and hooks a thumb over her shoulder.
“I just have to go take care of something, but I'll be back in ten minutes, okay?” The worry is evident in her eyes, and I wonder why I feel disappointed by her leaving. After all, she's a busy surgeon, she has better things to do than babysit me, as I've told myself several times. I nod at her, forcing myself to not let the disappointment show on my face. She gives me a last smile before she turns around and heads out of the room.
I lie there smiling, thinking about how she tried so hard to make this morning more bearable for me, and how she succeed in doing just that. I can still see her pretty blue eyes locked on mine, watching me intently.
***
“I didn't know which kind you liked best, so I got a couple of different ones”, Erica says sheepishly as she comes through the door of my room, her arms full of ice cream. “The weather is amazing today, it hasn't been this warm since August, you'd hardly believe it's fall outside. I thought since you can't go outside, at least you should get ice cream.” Ok, it's official, I'm getting special treatment from the hospital's cardiothoracic surgeon. I try not to show just how surprised I am, because I'm scared she'll think the ice cream was a silly idea, so instead I thank her over and over, saying it wasn't necessary. As she asks me to choose between the five different ice creams she bought, I feel myself get so touched that I have to swallow the lump in my throat.
She sits down after handing me the ice cream I chose, and takes one for herself. We sit there and eat, and I have to smile.
“What?” She smiles back at me.
“No, it's just, I feel like a kid who gets ice cream from her mom after 'being good' at a doctor's appointment.” I give her a lopsided smile which grows as she starts laughing.
We talk, joke and laugh, and for a good while I'm able to put everything I've been through at the back of my mind. She's in the middle of a story when we hear a knock on the door frame, and Christina stands there, smiling at me, probably because she sees me smile. We greet each other, and my blonde companion for the last few hours hurriedly gets up and throws the rest of the now melted ice creams in a nearby trash can. That'll give the cleaners something to wonder about. I'm expecting Erica to sit down again now that she's disposed of our early morning splurge evidence, but instead, she gathers the paperwork that had been lying neglected in a corner of the room since I woke up earlier that morning.
“Erica, you don't have to go”, I say, immediately annoyed with myself for calling her 'Erica' instead of 'Dr. Hahn'. She is my doctor after all, and I should know better than letting the boundaries of professionalism blur. She gives me a quick smile, obviously not minding the slip of my tongue, before answering.
“No, I really should, Beau's waiting for me.” She nods at Christina before walking briskly out of the room.
“Hey, Cal... You look better”, Christina says.
“I think things might be getting better now”, I smile, wondering when I'll see Erica again.
“Hey, was that Dr. Hahn?” Christina sits down on the same chair Erica had just been sitting on and pulls it closer, anxious to hear my answer.
“Uhm, yeah, Erica Hahn. She's the surgeon who operated on me. Well, one of them.”
“Dude, she's Erica Hahn!! She's like... God in cardiothoracics!” Her eagerness makes me laugh and she responds by giving me a bright smile. I didn't know my non-friend Christina Yang could smile that brightly, I sure haven't seen that before.
“She seems really cool.” I nod, as if affirming my own words.
“How long was she here? What did you talk about? Did she mention any surgeries she had? And who's Beau, is that her husband?” When Christina gets excited, it just spills over and her excitement ends up affecting everyone in the room.
“Well, she did talk about some surgeries, and Beau's not her husband, he's called Gary, Beau's her dog.”
“You sure got to know her a lot, I'm impressed. D'you think you could introduce me some day?”
“Well, we're not exactly friends.”
“Cal, you know her dog, for God's sake!” It occurs to me that all of a sudden I do know a lot about Erica, and it makes me smile again.
“I'm so glad to see you smile... You need to come back to work, you're missing out on so many cool surgeries, not to mention Meredith drama!” She begins to tell me about everything I missed, and although I'm touched she's here and that she cares so much about me, I can't help but wish she had come over later, so Erica would have stayed longer.