Real
Title: Real
Rating: PG for some mild use of language
Characters: Alex and Cristina (friendship)
Premise: A discussion about Burke leaving and Rebecca
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re so twisted that if you were force fed a nail you would shit out a cork screw?” Karev shook his head, leaning back in the booth he occupied.
There was no place better than Joe’s on a Tuesday afternoon if a person was in need of an alcohol induced pity party. You discovered that for yourself shortly after the humiliation of your very public jilting. The corner booth, just behind the juke box, quickly became your safe haven, the one place you could pout and wallow in pity over the fact that the man you loved had left you. It was your place, and you had become quite territorial over it. It knew all your secrets, all the hidden tears you had silently cried but would have denied if someone had asked if you were crying.
It was your booth, which was why your defenses went up when you found Alex Karev sitting in it. He wasn’t supposed to be there, sitting in your booth like he owned it. It was your booth. He had to go. Never mind that he looked as down in the mouth as you. “Why are you in my booth?” You throw the brown and blue tie dyed Jessica Simpson bag your mother had pawned off on you into the booth, and then slid in after it. You cross your arms over your chest, being sure to train your face into a stern ‘don’t fuck with me’ look.
“I don’t see your name anywhere,” Alex snarled, his fist whipping out to grab up the mug of beer that was sitting on the table. He took several long gulps before slamming it back down.
“Go. Away.” You order through gritted teeth. Today would have been your two year anniversary with Burke and you wanted to let a few tears leak out. You couldn’t do that if Karev was lurking around, brooding over that crazy bitch he had let himself become involved with.
“I. Was. Here. First.” He mimicked your tone, which only served to further irritate you. He had some nerve, first invading your private sanction and then having the nerve to mock you.
“I know what the problem is, you have no friends.” You snickered, not quite as pleased with your little dig as you had thought you would be. “In fact, there are venereal diseases out there that are more popular than you.”
“Oh. You’re just so funny,” Karev scoffed, reaching for his beer again. He finished it this time, grimacing when he realized the mug was empty.
“I try to be,” you say breezily. “Now, go away.”
“No.” Karev said firmly. “Why should I have to give up the booth I was in first just because you have some weird propriety thing going on.”
“I don’t know, Karev, maybe because you don’t want me to rip off your testicles and force feed them to Bambi.” It sounded lame even to your own ears, but you couldn’t come up with awesome, snarky remarks all the time.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re so twisted that if you were force fed a nail you would shit out a cork screw?” Karev shook his head, leaning back in the booth he occupied.
“Was that your attempt at one upping me?” You roll your eyes, but silently applauded his attempt. Karev was the only one, outside Meredith, who had the nerve to call you on your shit. “Seriously, Karev, I want to be alone. So could you just go.”
“Why do you think I’m here?” Karev said quietly, his chin dropped, his eyes fixed on the empty mug in front of him. “Tell you what, you tell me why you want to be alone and I’ll go.”
“Right. Like I’m going to tell you my secret pain so you can run your mouth off to Barbie.” You said the words because they were expected, but part of you was hoping he would press the issue, demand to know why you had a secret pain.
“Izzie and I…we’re…” He shrugged, letting whatever he was about to say go. You itched to know what him and Izzie were. They weren’t friends, but they weren’t lovers. They were some thing in between, even you knew that much. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything, okay? I’ll go.”
He started to scoot out of your booth, but the look on his face had you telling him to wait. “Today would have been my two year anniversary with Burke. Not our wedding anniversary, but the other. And, I don’t know, I’m feeling sort of nostalgic. I keep thinking that I was with him for that long and he was able to just walk away. Like I meant nothing. Like we meant nothing.”
Karev stared at you for a moment, clearly thinking about what you had just said. “Sometimes you can’t let your feelings rule your decisions. Sometimes you have to do what is best for everyone involved, even if it means to hurting people you love.” The way he said it told you he had been put in that position himself. And then you remembered that he had to do just that when he sent crazy old Rebecca Pope/Jane Doe off to a padded room.
“You think that’s what Burke did? He made a choice because he thought it was for the best, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t love me?” You demanded.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.” Karev nodded, his eyes sad when looks back up at you.
“You could be right,” you admit. “Makes me feel better at any rate.” You take a deep breath, and then look him in the eye. “I’m only doing this because I want you out of my booth, understand?” He nods, his old smirk twitching on his lips. “Forget about her. She wasn’t real. You deserve real.”
“You think?” Karev chuckled. You nodded, you knew so. You start to say more, but the jingle of the door catches your attention. Izzie walked in, her short curly hair falling into her eyes.
“I think ‘real’ just walked in,” you said softly, nodding in Izzie’s direction. He stared at her for a second, and then rose. Finally leaving you alone in your booth. Finally leaving you alone with your thoughts. Only your thoughts weren’t on Burke or that today could have been your anniversary. No, your thoughts are on finding your ‘real’ because, like Karev, it was what you deserved.
Rating: PG for some mild use of language
Characters: Alex and Cristina (friendship)
Premise: A discussion about Burke leaving and Rebecca
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re so twisted that if you were force fed a nail you would shit out a cork screw?” Karev shook his head, leaning back in the booth he occupied.
There was no place better than Joe’s on a Tuesday afternoon if a person was in need of an alcohol induced pity party. You discovered that for yourself shortly after the humiliation of your very public jilting. The corner booth, just behind the juke box, quickly became your safe haven, the one place you could pout and wallow in pity over the fact that the man you loved had left you. It was your place, and you had become quite territorial over it. It knew all your secrets, all the hidden tears you had silently cried but would have denied if someone had asked if you were crying.
It was your booth, which was why your defenses went up when you found Alex Karev sitting in it. He wasn’t supposed to be there, sitting in your booth like he owned it. It was your booth. He had to go. Never mind that he looked as down in the mouth as you. “Why are you in my booth?” You throw the brown and blue tie dyed Jessica Simpson bag your mother had pawned off on you into the booth, and then slid in after it. You cross your arms over your chest, being sure to train your face into a stern ‘don’t fuck with me’ look.
“I don’t see your name anywhere,” Alex snarled, his fist whipping out to grab up the mug of beer that was sitting on the table. He took several long gulps before slamming it back down.
“Go. Away.” You order through gritted teeth. Today would have been your two year anniversary with Burke and you wanted to let a few tears leak out. You couldn’t do that if Karev was lurking around, brooding over that crazy bitch he had let himself become involved with.
“I. Was. Here. First.” He mimicked your tone, which only served to further irritate you. He had some nerve, first invading your private sanction and then having the nerve to mock you.
“I know what the problem is, you have no friends.” You snickered, not quite as pleased with your little dig as you had thought you would be. “In fact, there are venereal diseases out there that are more popular than you.”
“Oh. You’re just so funny,” Karev scoffed, reaching for his beer again. He finished it this time, grimacing when he realized the mug was empty.
“I try to be,” you say breezily. “Now, go away.”
“No.” Karev said firmly. “Why should I have to give up the booth I was in first just because you have some weird propriety thing going on.”
“I don’t know, Karev, maybe because you don’t want me to rip off your testicles and force feed them to Bambi.” It sounded lame even to your own ears, but you couldn’t come up with awesome, snarky remarks all the time.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re so twisted that if you were force fed a nail you would shit out a cork screw?” Karev shook his head, leaning back in the booth he occupied.
“Was that your attempt at one upping me?” You roll your eyes, but silently applauded his attempt. Karev was the only one, outside Meredith, who had the nerve to call you on your shit. “Seriously, Karev, I want to be alone. So could you just go.”
“Why do you think I’m here?” Karev said quietly, his chin dropped, his eyes fixed on the empty mug in front of him. “Tell you what, you tell me why you want to be alone and I’ll go.”
“Right. Like I’m going to tell you my secret pain so you can run your mouth off to Barbie.” You said the words because they were expected, but part of you was hoping he would press the issue, demand to know why you had a secret pain.
“Izzie and I…we’re…” He shrugged, letting whatever he was about to say go. You itched to know what him and Izzie were. They weren’t friends, but they weren’t lovers. They were some thing in between, even you knew that much. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything, okay? I’ll go.”
He started to scoot out of your booth, but the look on his face had you telling him to wait. “Today would have been my two year anniversary with Burke. Not our wedding anniversary, but the other. And, I don’t know, I’m feeling sort of nostalgic. I keep thinking that I was with him for that long and he was able to just walk away. Like I meant nothing. Like we meant nothing.”
Karev stared at you for a moment, clearly thinking about what you had just said. “Sometimes you can’t let your feelings rule your decisions. Sometimes you have to do what is best for everyone involved, even if it means to hurting people you love.” The way he said it told you he had been put in that position himself. And then you remembered that he had to do just that when he sent crazy old Rebecca Pope/Jane Doe off to a padded room.
“You think that’s what Burke did? He made a choice because he thought it was for the best, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t love me?” You demanded.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.” Karev nodded, his eyes sad when looks back up at you.
“You could be right,” you admit. “Makes me feel better at any rate.” You take a deep breath, and then look him in the eye. “I’m only doing this because I want you out of my booth, understand?” He nods, his old smirk twitching on his lips. “Forget about her. She wasn’t real. You deserve real.”
“You think?” Karev chuckled. You nodded, you knew so. You start to say more, but the jingle of the door catches your attention. Izzie walked in, her short curly hair falling into her eyes.
“I think ‘real’ just walked in,” you said softly, nodding in Izzie’s direction. He stared at her for a second, and then rose. Finally leaving you alone in your booth. Finally leaving you alone with your thoughts. Only your thoughts weren’t on Burke or that today could have been your anniversary. No, your thoughts are on finding your ‘real’ because, like Karev, it was what you deserved.