You can't hide from me forever, muse!
Title: Do Not Go Quietly... (3/?)
Author: obsidian179
Rating: PG-13, at least so far.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC and Shonda Rhimes - though considering the treatment they've been giving it, I'm starting to think there should be some kind of DCFS-equivalent for television shows.
Summary: This was NOT how Callie wanted to leave things...
Author's notes: I've come to the realization that I hate moving. Not only does it take forever, disrupt my life, and require a LOT of boxes (more then I really had when I started), but it also seems to chase away the muse. But I'm finally all settled in, so let's get this show back on the road.
This was the flight from hell.
Callie had to fight down an almost overpowering urge to slam her head into the window repeatedly until she knocked herself unconscious. She didn't really want to flirt with a concussion or possible brain damage, but even those risks were beginning to lose their ability to frighten her.
She was in coach, which was all that had been available. Not that she had to fly first class or anything, and given how last minute her ticket purchase had been - and that it was a direct flight to New York, which was always crowded with people who didn't want to have to deal with changing planes - it wasn't exactly a surprise, but that did mean that she hadn't been able to choose her seat, and had ended up with a neighbor.
A very talkative neighbor.
And she couldn't tell the old woman to shut up, or say she really had no interest in what her seven thousand grandchildren were doing, without being unforgivably rude.
Not to mention that she was afraid that even that wouldn't shut the woman up.
Gentle hints about how she was rather tired and could use some sleep were ignored in favor of showing her pictures.
So.
Very.
Many.
Pictures.
Then they'd hit some turbulence. She caught herself wishing that someone would hit their head or break a limb, so that she'd have a valid excuse to get up and go somewhere else, but shuddered when she realized that her neighbor was frail enough that it could be her. Not that she enjoyed it aside from that, of course. One particularly rough patch had her clenching at her arm rests, feeling a jolt of panic flood through her as visions of the plane's fiery demise raced through her brain. Fortunately, it passed by quickly enough.
As a result of the sadly accident-free turbulence, her flight ended up taking even longer then the geological epoch that it had already gone on for. (Oh, they said they were about halfway through the six-and-a-half hour flight, but she knew better.) And when her seatmate finally did stop talking and took a nap, Callie herself found that she simply couldn't sleep.
She wished irony had a physical avatar, so she could punch it in the face.
She was simply too wound up to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, her fears about the upcoming encounter with Erica would flood through her mind. That she would lose the blonde, that Erica might not want Callie in her life at all... It was simply unthinkable.
Maybe in some alternate universe where her brain had been reprogrammed by aliens or some such thing she might be able to go on, but this was real. She didn't know how to function without Erica anymore.
They were supposed to be together. She knew that. But she also knew that she'd never win Erica over with that argument. Which, of course, lead to the question of what she should say.
And she found she had absolutely no idea.
Since sleep was a lost cause by that point, she instead ordered a coffee and tried to plan out what she should say, how she could make Erica understand how incredibly sorry she was.
When they landed four hours later, she was no closer to figuring it out then she had been when she'd been in Seattle.
Something felt... off, somehow.
Erica Hahn was not the sort of woman who believed in premonitions, psychic powers, magic, fortune telling, horoscopes, or any such thing. She believed in the real, the tangible. She wasn't even sure where she stood on the subject of God.
And yet, ever since she'd first woken up that morning, something just felt... off.
She hadn't forgotten any appointments, nothing was wrong in the house, her car was running fine, her patients were in good shape - or as good as those in need of heart surgery could be.
She almost wanted something to go wrong, just so she'd have an actual cause for her unease. She became more tense and irritable as the day progressed. When she caught herself nearly snapping at one of the nurses, she decided a break was in order.
Fortunately, that was one of the perks of being the boss, setting her own schedule. As long as she kept her beeper on her, and didn't wander too far away from the hospital, she could step outside and take a walk if she wanted to.
Luckily, Mount Sinai was practically next door to Central Park.
Leaving Dr. Hahn at the doors of the hospital, she slipped through the crowd as she moved down the sidewalk. New York City was very different then Seattle, in almost every possible way. There were more people, it was warmer (not a lot, but it was warmer, which was nice), the surrounding landscape wasn't as green, it was less humid, there was less precipitation, the E.R. seemed busier... The list was endless, or so it sometimes seemed.
The staff at the hospital was different then she was used to, too. They were focused and competent and everything Seattle Grace wasn't. Everything they should have been. When she'd first accepted Webber's job offer, she'd been promised that Seattle Grace was the best hospital around, and exactly where she needed to be in order to advance her career.
She almost laughed. In one respect, that had actually been true. She'd barely been there a year, and now she was the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery at Mount Sinai, one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country. So at least something good had come out of working in that den of iniquity.
Now, if she could just convince herself that having her heart shredded like that had been worth it...
So far, she was at least sticking to her vow to avoid any romantic entanglements. Not that she hadn't been doing about the same back in Seattle at about this time after joining the staff. She'd even managed to keep the resident manwhore from sniffing too close. She simply hadn't realized that she should have been trying to keep the local women at a distance.
Not until she'd come along. But by then it had been too late. Callie had slipped into her heart before she'd realized it, and refused to be dislodged.
Not that it mattered anymore.
Pushing any thoughts of what she'd left behind to the back of her mind where they belonged, she smiled as she approached the coffee cart ahead of her. Sure, there was one such cart right in front of the hospital, and coffee machines scattered all over the hospital itself, in addition to what was served in the cafeteria, but Luis, in her opinion, simply made better java then they did. A little extra walking didn't bother her.
And the fact that none of her colleagues ever seemed to go there was hardly a drawback.
Luis himself was a few inches shorter then she was, middle-aged, and a few pounds comfortably overweight. He was a genial sort of guy, never pushing her beyond small talk, and his perpetual good mood often helped a bit on bad days. In return, she refrained from inquiring about his past, or why someone who spoke so fondly of his home in the Dominican Republic was in New York.
Besides, he provided her with coffee, which automatically endeared him to her.
"Good morning, Doctor Hahn," he greeted her, customary smile on his face. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"It's only morning?" she asked even as she got out the money for her usual. A quick look at her watch confirmed that his statement was accurate, if only just barely. "It may be a lovely day, but I can already tell it's going to be a long one."
"Days aren't long or short," he corrected, still smiling. "They just are. It's how we view them that differs."
Her lips curled wryly. "Well, I suspect I'm going to view this one as dragging on forever, then." She shook her head. "Wish I knew why."
He offered a slight shrug as he poured her coffee. "Who can say? Perhaps there is something that you're missing."
Or someone.
It took a fair amount of effort to keep her expression level, but the thought, once it had occurred to her, wouldn't be banished quite as easily as usual. She'd been doing her damnedest to avoid thinking about her ever since she'd left Seattle, usually with mixed results. She took another sip of her coffee and made a deliberate effort to turn her attention to her upcoming surgeries, pretending she didn't see Luis watching her as she did. "Nothing that would be making me feel like this," she said truthfully, then paused, as she felt a chill run down her back. It was the oddest feeling, and she just barely resisted the urge to look behind her. Abruptly, her stomach clenched severely that she nearly lost what little coffee she'd already swallowed, along with her breakfast.
Luis didn't miss the change in her expression. "Doctor Hahn? Are you all right?"
No. No, she wasn't. She could feel the blood draining from her face, and her heartbeat rapidly accelerate. The coffee? She doubted it, unless Luis had spiked it with 100% pure, concentrated adrenaline. Still, she set it down on the cart, noting a slight tremor in her hand as she did. Memories of the end of Preston Burke's tenure at Seattle Grace swam to the forefront of her brain, but she knew this wasn't the same. Still, she'd never admit to any weaknesses. Not anymore. Not since... her. "Yes, I'm okay." Her throat went dry, and a sudden surge in anxiety nearly knocked her off her feet. "Probably."
He stepped around his cart to stand next to her. "Perhaps you should sit down."
That sounded like a good idea, but what she really wanted was to be moving. "Thank you, but I think I'm going to head back to the hospital, now." She was actually starting to feel a little better, the odd feeling disappearing as mysteriously as it had appeared. "I have some paperwork to take care of, anyway. Thank you, though." That last was almost an afterthought, but if her time at Seattle Grace had taught her nothing else, she had at least relearned the basics of human interaction and possible friendship.
Not that she intended to ever let anyone get that close to her again.
Luis was obviously skeptical, but she was gone before he could even try and change her mind.
Callie could have wept from sheer relief when she finally left the airport. Well, relief and exhaustion. If she ever saw that old woman again...
No, forget it, get to Erica. She still didn't know what she was going to say - really, her mind felt like sludge, to the point where it took some effort even to remember where she wanted the taxi she flagged down to take her - but figured she might as well go with it. Overthinking things was what had started her problems back in Seattle, after all. She'd just be honest, tell Erica what she was thinking and feeling, and hope for the best.
It was mid-afternoon by then, the city a crowded bustle of people of every variety, all hurrying along to their destinations... some more patiently then others. She'd been to New York before, and was always amazed by the size and sheer scope of the place, the beautiful architecture, the incredibly diverse population. Now, though, she didn't even notice any of that. She simply stared out the window, in a sort of pense-less haze.
She probably should have had the cab take her to a hotel - and there was at least one not too far away that she could have stayed at, if not for free, then at least cheap; she hadn't been keeping up with her family's hotel chain all that well of late, so she had no idea if they'd opened any new ones - but all she could think of was getting to Erica. She'd wasted so much time already...
She was startled back to reality by the taxi driver's voice telling her they were there. Judging by his tone, it wasn't the first time he'd said it, either. She paid him the fare, probably giving him too big of a tip, and picked up her bag as she slid out of the cab and stepped onto the sidewalk.
She could only wonder what he must have thought of her, wandering around like a zombie and heading from the airport straight to the hospital. Probably that someone was sick or dying.
Considering the rate she'd been deteriorating since Erica had left... she wondered how wrong he would have been.
Mt. Sinai was very... large. And clean. And professional-looking. Intellectually, she knew Seattle Grace was all of those things, too, but standing out front, looking up at Erica's new hospital... She couldn't help but feel like Seattle Grace came up short in comparison, in every respect.
Given that they went from a second-ranked transplant center to a twelfth-ranked one...
Well, Erica might well have wanted to transfer there even if Callie hadn't treated her so horribly. But she wouldn't have. Not until Callie could have come, too. That was just the kind of person she was.
You don't deserve her, Torres.
She shook her head. That didn't matter. She needed to talk to Erica, to apologize to her, to see her.
Yeah, right. You're hoping that she'll take you back yet again, like some kind of doormat.
That wasn't true. She just-
Who do you think you're fooling? Why do you think she'd even give you the time of day after the way you treated her? You deserve to suffer.
Maybe... but Erica didn't. If she could just manage to find some way to bring her some kind of peace... of closure...
Right, because her cheating ex showing up to ask for another chance will help her find closure. Right. And you've done exactly what to try and make things up to her?
"Shut up..." she whispered. She was so very tired...
Her mind chuckled darkly at her. Never could stand hearing the truth, could you? Maybe that's why you ran out on Erica while she was bearing her soul to you. It was just too much for you, wasn't it? Too real. You knew then that you didn't deserve her, and did you ever go out of your way to prove that.
"Shut up!" People were staring at her, she noticed. Which, she supposed, might have something to do with the fact that she'd been standing in front of a hospital, staring at it, and yelling at nothing. Physical and emotional exhaustion made her feel like crying, but she pushed it back and headed inside.
She had to blink a few times when she came upon a directory to get it in focus enough to read it, but she managed to locate the Department of Cardiothoracic Surgery and headed for the elevator. She zoned out again for most of the ride, but at least this time she didn't need someone to tell her when she got there.
Her stomach was doing that for her quite nicely.
She supposed it was a lucky thing for the hospital's carpets that she hadn't eaten since... lunch yesterday? Had she even finished that meal? She couldn't remember anymore, and barely cared.
Still, when she winced after clearing her throat to get the attention of the woman at the desk, she did wish she'd grabbed a bottle of water or something.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked, looking at her curiously.
Deciding that was probably the best reaction she could have hoped for in her state, she made an effort to smile pleasantly. "Yes. I'm, ah, looking for Er- Ah, Doctor Hahn's office." Probably should have called her 'the chief', she thought a little too late. Ah, well. Nothing to be done about it, now.
"Dr. Torres?"
That caught her attention, because she may have been drifting in and out a bit lately, but she was certain she hadn't introduced herself yet. "How-?"
"Addison told me you were coming," she explained, smiling. "She wanted me to make sure you got here in one piece."
"Not sure I did," Callie muttered, not really aware she'd even spoken aloud.
The woman's smile faltered, her expression changing more to one of sympathy. "My name's Marie. Just give me a second to find someone to cover the desk, and I'll take you to the chief's office."
Callie nodded, otherwise not moving from her spot. Not from any impatience she might have been feeling so much as a general lack of energy.
Marie was a few inches shorter then Callie, with darker skin and black hair swept up into a bun. It looked like she was keeping it there with a pair of chopsticks, and it was a sign of just how out of it Callie was that she didn't even notice.
Erica's office turned out to be just as professional and impersonal as Callie would have thought. Beyond a somewhat battered-looking vinyl couch - which simply must have been more comfortable then it looked, for Erica to hang on to it - there wasn't really anything beyond the chair, desk, and computer that must have come with the office. Perhaps the couch had, too, thus accounting for its less-then-pristine condition. No pictures, no personal effects, nothing that said 'Erica'.
The office belonged to Dr. Hahn, and no one else.
She was surprised to find herself alone, then dimly recalled Marie saying something about going to find Dr. Hahn. The realization that Erica, the woman she'd flown across the country for, was likely on her way even at that moment should have inspired her to panic, but she just... couldn't. Instead, she felt a sort of resigned acceptance, as if some part of her was consigned to the belief that whatever happened from there on, it was out of her hands.
Which wasn't true, of course, but the next move certainly wasn't-
The door opened, and her train of thought dissolved.
Erica...
She was beautiful. Even as a flurry of emotions passed over the blonde's face, Callie couldn't help but think it. She'd forgotten just how beautiful Erica Hahn was in person. Or made herself forget it. And the effect that those eyes had on her.
Those blue, blue eyes.
Her knees quivered.
"Callie?" Erica was saying, or that was what Callie thought she was saying, but it was hard to hear anything over the sudden rushing in her ears. She tried to respond, to greet her, but her mouth wasn't working the way she wanted it to, and her legs felt like they were made out of lead when she tried to take a step closer. Erica took a few steps of her own, looking concerned as she said something else that Callie missed completely. Dehydration, starvation, and utter physical and emotional exhaustion all caught up with her, and she felt herself start to pitch forward as the world began going black.
The last thing she was aware of before she passed out completely was the pair of strong arms that caught her before she hit the floor.
Author: obsidian179
Rating: PG-13, at least so far.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC and Shonda Rhimes - though considering the treatment they've been giving it, I'm starting to think there should be some kind of DCFS-equivalent for television shows.
Summary: This was NOT how Callie wanted to leave things...
Author's notes: I've come to the realization that I hate moving. Not only does it take forever, disrupt my life, and require a LOT of boxes (more then I really had when I started), but it also seems to chase away the muse. But I'm finally all settled in, so let's get this show back on the road.
This was the flight from hell.
Callie had to fight down an almost overpowering urge to slam her head into the window repeatedly until she knocked herself unconscious. She didn't really want to flirt with a concussion or possible brain damage, but even those risks were beginning to lose their ability to frighten her.
She was in coach, which was all that had been available. Not that she had to fly first class or anything, and given how last minute her ticket purchase had been - and that it was a direct flight to New York, which was always crowded with people who didn't want to have to deal with changing planes - it wasn't exactly a surprise, but that did mean that she hadn't been able to choose her seat, and had ended up with a neighbor.
A very talkative neighbor.
And she couldn't tell the old woman to shut up, or say she really had no interest in what her seven thousand grandchildren were doing, without being unforgivably rude.
Not to mention that she was afraid that even that wouldn't shut the woman up.
Gentle hints about how she was rather tired and could use some sleep were ignored in favor of showing her pictures.
So.
Very.
Many.
Pictures.
Then they'd hit some turbulence. She caught herself wishing that someone would hit their head or break a limb, so that she'd have a valid excuse to get up and go somewhere else, but shuddered when she realized that her neighbor was frail enough that it could be her. Not that she enjoyed it aside from that, of course. One particularly rough patch had her clenching at her arm rests, feeling a jolt of panic flood through her as visions of the plane's fiery demise raced through her brain. Fortunately, it passed by quickly enough.
As a result of the sadly accident-free turbulence, her flight ended up taking even longer then the geological epoch that it had already gone on for. (Oh, they said they were about halfway through the six-and-a-half hour flight, but she knew better.) And when her seatmate finally did stop talking and took a nap, Callie herself found that she simply couldn't sleep.
She wished irony had a physical avatar, so she could punch it in the face.
She was simply too wound up to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, her fears about the upcoming encounter with Erica would flood through her mind. That she would lose the blonde, that Erica might not want Callie in her life at all... It was simply unthinkable.
Maybe in some alternate universe where her brain had been reprogrammed by aliens or some such thing she might be able to go on, but this was real. She didn't know how to function without Erica anymore.
They were supposed to be together. She knew that. But she also knew that she'd never win Erica over with that argument. Which, of course, lead to the question of what she should say.
And she found she had absolutely no idea.
Since sleep was a lost cause by that point, she instead ordered a coffee and tried to plan out what she should say, how she could make Erica understand how incredibly sorry she was.
When they landed four hours later, she was no closer to figuring it out then she had been when she'd been in Seattle.
Something felt... off, somehow.
Erica Hahn was not the sort of woman who believed in premonitions, psychic powers, magic, fortune telling, horoscopes, or any such thing. She believed in the real, the tangible. She wasn't even sure where she stood on the subject of God.
And yet, ever since she'd first woken up that morning, something just felt... off.
She hadn't forgotten any appointments, nothing was wrong in the house, her car was running fine, her patients were in good shape - or as good as those in need of heart surgery could be.
She almost wanted something to go wrong, just so she'd have an actual cause for her unease. She became more tense and irritable as the day progressed. When she caught herself nearly snapping at one of the nurses, she decided a break was in order.
Fortunately, that was one of the perks of being the boss, setting her own schedule. As long as she kept her beeper on her, and didn't wander too far away from the hospital, she could step outside and take a walk if she wanted to.
Luckily, Mount Sinai was practically next door to Central Park.
Leaving Dr. Hahn at the doors of the hospital, she slipped through the crowd as she moved down the sidewalk. New York City was very different then Seattle, in almost every possible way. There were more people, it was warmer (not a lot, but it was warmer, which was nice), the surrounding landscape wasn't as green, it was less humid, there was less precipitation, the E.R. seemed busier... The list was endless, or so it sometimes seemed.
The staff at the hospital was different then she was used to, too. They were focused and competent and everything Seattle Grace wasn't. Everything they should have been. When she'd first accepted Webber's job offer, she'd been promised that Seattle Grace was the best hospital around, and exactly where she needed to be in order to advance her career.
She almost laughed. In one respect, that had actually been true. She'd barely been there a year, and now she was the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery at Mount Sinai, one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country. So at least something good had come out of working in that den of iniquity.
Now, if she could just convince herself that having her heart shredded like that had been worth it...
So far, she was at least sticking to her vow to avoid any romantic entanglements. Not that she hadn't been doing about the same back in Seattle at about this time after joining the staff. She'd even managed to keep the resident manwhore from sniffing too close. She simply hadn't realized that she should have been trying to keep the local women at a distance.
Not until she'd come along. But by then it had been too late. Callie had slipped into her heart before she'd realized it, and refused to be dislodged.
Not that it mattered anymore.
Pushing any thoughts of what she'd left behind to the back of her mind where they belonged, she smiled as she approached the coffee cart ahead of her. Sure, there was one such cart right in front of the hospital, and coffee machines scattered all over the hospital itself, in addition to what was served in the cafeteria, but Luis, in her opinion, simply made better java then they did. A little extra walking didn't bother her.
And the fact that none of her colleagues ever seemed to go there was hardly a drawback.
Luis himself was a few inches shorter then she was, middle-aged, and a few pounds comfortably overweight. He was a genial sort of guy, never pushing her beyond small talk, and his perpetual good mood often helped a bit on bad days. In return, she refrained from inquiring about his past, or why someone who spoke so fondly of his home in the Dominican Republic was in New York.
Besides, he provided her with coffee, which automatically endeared him to her.
"Good morning, Doctor Hahn," he greeted her, customary smile on his face. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"It's only morning?" she asked even as she got out the money for her usual. A quick look at her watch confirmed that his statement was accurate, if only just barely. "It may be a lovely day, but I can already tell it's going to be a long one."
"Days aren't long or short," he corrected, still smiling. "They just are. It's how we view them that differs."
Her lips curled wryly. "Well, I suspect I'm going to view this one as dragging on forever, then." She shook her head. "Wish I knew why."
He offered a slight shrug as he poured her coffee. "Who can say? Perhaps there is something that you're missing."
Or someone.
It took a fair amount of effort to keep her expression level, but the thought, once it had occurred to her, wouldn't be banished quite as easily as usual. She'd been doing her damnedest to avoid thinking about her ever since she'd left Seattle, usually with mixed results. She took another sip of her coffee and made a deliberate effort to turn her attention to her upcoming surgeries, pretending she didn't see Luis watching her as she did. "Nothing that would be making me feel like this," she said truthfully, then paused, as she felt a chill run down her back. It was the oddest feeling, and she just barely resisted the urge to look behind her. Abruptly, her stomach clenched severely that she nearly lost what little coffee she'd already swallowed, along with her breakfast.
Luis didn't miss the change in her expression. "Doctor Hahn? Are you all right?"
No. No, she wasn't. She could feel the blood draining from her face, and her heartbeat rapidly accelerate. The coffee? She doubted it, unless Luis had spiked it with 100% pure, concentrated adrenaline. Still, she set it down on the cart, noting a slight tremor in her hand as she did. Memories of the end of Preston Burke's tenure at Seattle Grace swam to the forefront of her brain, but she knew this wasn't the same. Still, she'd never admit to any weaknesses. Not anymore. Not since... her. "Yes, I'm okay." Her throat went dry, and a sudden surge in anxiety nearly knocked her off her feet. "Probably."
He stepped around his cart to stand next to her. "Perhaps you should sit down."
That sounded like a good idea, but what she really wanted was to be moving. "Thank you, but I think I'm going to head back to the hospital, now." She was actually starting to feel a little better, the odd feeling disappearing as mysteriously as it had appeared. "I have some paperwork to take care of, anyway. Thank you, though." That last was almost an afterthought, but if her time at Seattle Grace had taught her nothing else, she had at least relearned the basics of human interaction and possible friendship.
Not that she intended to ever let anyone get that close to her again.
Luis was obviously skeptical, but she was gone before he could even try and change her mind.
Callie could have wept from sheer relief when she finally left the airport. Well, relief and exhaustion. If she ever saw that old woman again...
No, forget it, get to Erica. She still didn't know what she was going to say - really, her mind felt like sludge, to the point where it took some effort even to remember where she wanted the taxi she flagged down to take her - but figured she might as well go with it. Overthinking things was what had started her problems back in Seattle, after all. She'd just be honest, tell Erica what she was thinking and feeling, and hope for the best.
It was mid-afternoon by then, the city a crowded bustle of people of every variety, all hurrying along to their destinations... some more patiently then others. She'd been to New York before, and was always amazed by the size and sheer scope of the place, the beautiful architecture, the incredibly diverse population. Now, though, she didn't even notice any of that. She simply stared out the window, in a sort of pense-less haze.
She probably should have had the cab take her to a hotel - and there was at least one not too far away that she could have stayed at, if not for free, then at least cheap; she hadn't been keeping up with her family's hotel chain all that well of late, so she had no idea if they'd opened any new ones - but all she could think of was getting to Erica. She'd wasted so much time already...
She was startled back to reality by the taxi driver's voice telling her they were there. Judging by his tone, it wasn't the first time he'd said it, either. She paid him the fare, probably giving him too big of a tip, and picked up her bag as she slid out of the cab and stepped onto the sidewalk.
She could only wonder what he must have thought of her, wandering around like a zombie and heading from the airport straight to the hospital. Probably that someone was sick or dying.
Considering the rate she'd been deteriorating since Erica had left... she wondered how wrong he would have been.
Mt. Sinai was very... large. And clean. And professional-looking. Intellectually, she knew Seattle Grace was all of those things, too, but standing out front, looking up at Erica's new hospital... She couldn't help but feel like Seattle Grace came up short in comparison, in every respect.
Given that they went from a second-ranked transplant center to a twelfth-ranked one...
Well, Erica might well have wanted to transfer there even if Callie hadn't treated her so horribly. But she wouldn't have. Not until Callie could have come, too. That was just the kind of person she was.
You don't deserve her, Torres.
She shook her head. That didn't matter. She needed to talk to Erica, to apologize to her, to see her.
Yeah, right. You're hoping that she'll take you back yet again, like some kind of doormat.
That wasn't true. She just-
Who do you think you're fooling? Why do you think she'd even give you the time of day after the way you treated her? You deserve to suffer.
Maybe... but Erica didn't. If she could just manage to find some way to bring her some kind of peace... of closure...
Right, because her cheating ex showing up to ask for another chance will help her find closure. Right. And you've done exactly what to try and make things up to her?
"Shut up..." she whispered. She was so very tired...
Her mind chuckled darkly at her. Never could stand hearing the truth, could you? Maybe that's why you ran out on Erica while she was bearing her soul to you. It was just too much for you, wasn't it? Too real. You knew then that you didn't deserve her, and did you ever go out of your way to prove that.
"Shut up!" People were staring at her, she noticed. Which, she supposed, might have something to do with the fact that she'd been standing in front of a hospital, staring at it, and yelling at nothing. Physical and emotional exhaustion made her feel like crying, but she pushed it back and headed inside.
She had to blink a few times when she came upon a directory to get it in focus enough to read it, but she managed to locate the Department of Cardiothoracic Surgery and headed for the elevator. She zoned out again for most of the ride, but at least this time she didn't need someone to tell her when she got there.
Her stomach was doing that for her quite nicely.
She supposed it was a lucky thing for the hospital's carpets that she hadn't eaten since... lunch yesterday? Had she even finished that meal? She couldn't remember anymore, and barely cared.
Still, when she winced after clearing her throat to get the attention of the woman at the desk, she did wish she'd grabbed a bottle of water or something.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked, looking at her curiously.
Deciding that was probably the best reaction she could have hoped for in her state, she made an effort to smile pleasantly. "Yes. I'm, ah, looking for Er- Ah, Doctor Hahn's office." Probably should have called her 'the chief', she thought a little too late. Ah, well. Nothing to be done about it, now.
"Dr. Torres?"
That caught her attention, because she may have been drifting in and out a bit lately, but she was certain she hadn't introduced herself yet. "How-?"
"Addison told me you were coming," she explained, smiling. "She wanted me to make sure you got here in one piece."
"Not sure I did," Callie muttered, not really aware she'd even spoken aloud.
The woman's smile faltered, her expression changing more to one of sympathy. "My name's Marie. Just give me a second to find someone to cover the desk, and I'll take you to the chief's office."
Callie nodded, otherwise not moving from her spot. Not from any impatience she might have been feeling so much as a general lack of energy.
Marie was a few inches shorter then Callie, with darker skin and black hair swept up into a bun. It looked like she was keeping it there with a pair of chopsticks, and it was a sign of just how out of it Callie was that she didn't even notice.
Erica's office turned out to be just as professional and impersonal as Callie would have thought. Beyond a somewhat battered-looking vinyl couch - which simply must have been more comfortable then it looked, for Erica to hang on to it - there wasn't really anything beyond the chair, desk, and computer that must have come with the office. Perhaps the couch had, too, thus accounting for its less-then-pristine condition. No pictures, no personal effects, nothing that said 'Erica'.
The office belonged to Dr. Hahn, and no one else.
She was surprised to find herself alone, then dimly recalled Marie saying something about going to find Dr. Hahn. The realization that Erica, the woman she'd flown across the country for, was likely on her way even at that moment should have inspired her to panic, but she just... couldn't. Instead, she felt a sort of resigned acceptance, as if some part of her was consigned to the belief that whatever happened from there on, it was out of her hands.
Which wasn't true, of course, but the next move certainly wasn't-
The door opened, and her train of thought dissolved.
Erica...
She was beautiful. Even as a flurry of emotions passed over the blonde's face, Callie couldn't help but think it. She'd forgotten just how beautiful Erica Hahn was in person. Or made herself forget it. And the effect that those eyes had on her.
Those blue, blue eyes.
Her knees quivered.
"Callie?" Erica was saying, or that was what Callie thought she was saying, but it was hard to hear anything over the sudden rushing in her ears. She tried to respond, to greet her, but her mouth wasn't working the way she wanted it to, and her legs felt like they were made out of lead when she tried to take a step closer. Erica took a few steps of her own, looking concerned as she said something else that Callie missed completely. Dehydration, starvation, and utter physical and emotional exhaustion all caught up with her, and she felt herself start to pitch forward as the world began going black.
The last thing she was aware of before she passed out completely was the pair of strong arms that caught her before she hit the floor.