The Awakening (10/?)
Title: La fine di un sogno (or The Awakening)
Author: Spooky85
Pairing: Callie/Erica
Rating: Pg
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Prologue__Denial________ -_____Epilogue___(???)
Chapter1__Shock________ -_____Chapter15__(???)
Chapter2__depression____ -_____Chapter14__(???)
Chapter3__rebound______ -_____Chapter13__(???)
Chapter4__revulsion______ -_____Chapter12__(???)
Chapter5__secrets_______ -_____Chapter11__(???)
Chapter6__memories_____ -_____Chapter10__(reality)
Chapter7__disillusionment_ - ____Chapter9__(expectations)
_______________Chapter8_The Bridge___________
*Chapter10*
The first time I saw her I didn't notice her.
My life was filled with George and I didn't have room in my head for anybody but him.
She had been called to Seattle Grace to operate on his father. I only thought of her as that. The surgeon, the good surgeon who was going to have the power to break the man I loved. She looked sure of herself, uncaring of others. She looked confident. She was not afraid of being a woman in a man's club, and her flowing wavy hair were proof of that. She stood tall, looking down on the chief, on George. She towered over him, and I remember that I thought she looked impossibly tall bending down to speak to him, making him look like a kid. I remember I noticed how she walked, her back straight, her head held high, as they left me behind at the nurses station, cutting me out.
Man, for someone who professes I didn't notice her I sure did notice a lot of things.
I guess I felt something pull me towards her even then.
The second time I saw her was also the first time I spoke to her.
I had just been in the gallery, watching her perform a surgery. Mark was in the front row. He was always in the front row.
I remember I thought she owned the OR, that she was in her element, that she stood even taller in there than she did outside. I remember I thought she was great. Her hands moved flawlessly over the woman's heart, careful but sure at the same time. She was moving her fingers with assuredness, with precision, making them dance in the way years of practice had perfected, dance to save a life.
Out of the OR, in the scrub room, I approached her. I was scrubbing in while she was getting ready to leave.
"Great job, doctor Hahn. Flawless."
"Yes it was, doctor Torres" at seeing my face, that was surely showing the shock of her knowing me, she added "Your name was on the board after mine."
And she left.
And I thought she was rude.
I didn't know she hadn't even begun yet.
We became friends because of Mark. As much as she didn't want to admit it, his constant heavy flirting with her had made her brave an invitation for drinks to the two of us. Not because of us, or because she wanted to make friends, but because she simply didn't feel like going home that night.
We had fun. Fun like I had never had in a while, maybe ever. We got each other, instinctively. We would look at each other and whole pieces of a conversation would flow through our eyes. Instant friends. Inseparable friends. Best friends.
We would laugh together, giggle at each other, we'd share private jokes that other people couldn't understand. We did everything together.
I had never felt more at ease or connected to someone in my whole life, we started sharing lunch time, we'd make it a point of knowing the other's schedule, so we could take a short break for coffee together. One day I found her in the lobby, we were both on our way home. We went out for drinks, laughing at our colleagues and playing darts. Than it became a silent appointment, we'd both wait for the other in the lobby to unwind together from the stress of the day.
We started spending all our time together both at work and outside and it felt weird, but it felt great. I had never had a best friend in my whole life, the closest I'd ever come to it had been Addison, but as soon as we'd started forming a real bond she had moved to another state, leaving me alone once again.
I remember the look on her face the first time I invited her back to my place for a glass of wine. I remember I was elated that she'd accepted even though she'd have to brave the possibility of Christina showing up and drooling all over her. I knew she disliked my roommate greatly, but she accepted anyway.
And so she did the first time I told her I wanted to go out dancing. She looked as uncomfortable as I've ever seen her, but she said yes, put on an amazing sparkling silver thing, grabbed her coat and purse and showed me to the taxi waiting for us. We danced all night, sharing drinks and stories, laughing until our sides hurt and eyes were filled with tears. We danced together, and I felt a tingle creep up the length of my spine as she put her hands on my hips, pulling me closer, whispering in my ear that I was one hell of a dancer. I laughed to hide the blush, and stared looking for some guys we could dance with to hide the heavy feeling in my stomach.
We danced with them for the rest of the night and I remember I would keep looking at them, at his arms around her waist, at his blonde hair and knowing smirk. At her swaying body, at the way she would laugh with him, at the way her hand lay on his chest as he whispered something in her ear that got her laughing once again.
I remember my guy telling me that I could stop looking at them, that my friend was safe with his friend.
And I remember that it wasn't worry what had made me look, it was a different feeling, one that now I'd call jealousy, but that I couldn't identify then.
Morning came finally and I saw her making her way towards me, grabbing my hand and pulling me aside, waving goodbye at our new friends, making them moan in disappointment. Before I knew it I had my coat on and I was climbing in a taxi once again. I turned my head, and I looked at her. Eyes closed, head resting on the leather of the seat, golden hair splayed beautifully. And I remember that my hands itched with a need I couldn't describe, my body burning, my breath caught in my throat, when she licked distractedly her lower lip and her grainy voice reached me. She wanted coffee. And so we stopped a block from the hospital, headed towards a cafe. We ordered two cups.
One Vanilla and a Black brew to go.
And we drank them on our way to the hospital, talking about yoga and laughing at yet another thing I was sure I was gonna make her try. And she did. Each and every single time I proposed something to her she'd put up a fight but in the end she's say yes. She couldn't deny me, not even back then. She admitted it shyly one day, me curled in her arms, both naked on our bed.
We were one.
So it feels strange as we stand here, frozen in space.
She's still in the elevator, and I'm still standing here in front of her with my mouth open and my head empty.
The metal doors start closing and that snaps us back into the reality around us. Back into action.
Her hand darts out to stop the doors, her eyes blink, to make sure I'm not her head playing tricks on her.
Hurt and fear flash in her eyes before she squares her shoulders, clenches her teeth, puts on her mask.
I step aside and let her get out of the elevator and into the corridor, and I silently follow her towards her office. Neither of us has said anything, and I know I'll have to start. And I can feel my palms sweating.
I've already walked this hall twice, but it never felt this long before. I cannot look at her. My eyes are trained on her shadow as it moves behind her.
She stops, suddenly, and I almost crash into her. I stop just in time. But not before a whiff of her perfume reaches me. Not before I breathe her in.
"Erica.." I try my voice and I don't think it's supposed to sound that shaky.
I should show her that I'm sure of me, of her, of us. I should make my point, and make it so convincing that she'll forgive me.
I should be calm and collected, I've thought about this very moment for the last four days after all.
She wordlessly opens the door to her office and drops her lab coat and scrub cap on the couch.
The scrub cap. It's a different one. I've never seen it on her, and I wonder if the one she used to wear at SGH is still in her locker there.
I stand just outside of the door, looking in, like a spectator to the most frightening and fascinating show. I devour with my eyes everything I see, I look for traces of her in the room, traces of me even. I'm waiting for my cue. She's the only one who can tell me what to do. She could close the door and I would go away. She could invite me in and we could try.
She walks towards me, her eyes just above my head, avoiding me, seeing through me, and I start to wonder if I'm even here.
But I must be, because she moves aside, holding the door, signaling me to get in her office.
I feel small and insecure.
And Mark's voice resonates through my head. Being sent to the principal's office. This is exactly what this feels like.
She lets me in but she doesn't ask me to join her on the couch. I stand here, in the middle of the room, I just stand here.
After the longest silence, she licks her lips, and my hands itch with the need to touch her face, to pull the door open and run. Her eyes never leave the intricate patterns on the rug under her feet.
"So.."
I'm a statue. Maybe if I stay here still enough she'll forget I'm here. She'll go on with her life and I'll be allowed to just be here watching her.
But life never unfolds the way I hope for it to go. Her head lifts. Eyes cold daggers in my heart.
"Are you planning on saying something at some point or did you just come here to stand there"
Harsh and rude. Doctor Hahn.
"I..."
And I realize I don't know what to say to her.
After all this time, and all the times I've played this moment, the many versions of it, in my head, in an endless loop, after all this I don't know what to say to her.
And I could tell her that I'm sorry. And I could tell her that I fell for her the first time I saw her. That I first admired her skill, then cherished her friendship, that needed her love. I could. I could tell her that when Addison came to us, to me, asking me, telling me that we were together, I could tell her I freaked out. I could tell her I went to Mark to get rid of the fantasies, but it only made it worse. That sex with him had always been about her.
Or maybe I could tell her that I got scared, when we were together, that I got scared that she was there and I wasn't, that the person I had walked with the last few months had suddenly sprinted way ahead of me, leaving me behind, dragging me with her even though I wasn't ready, making me fall.
I could tell her that the night we had sex for the first time I freaked out because she seemed to know what to do instinctively, and I didn't. She knew where to touch and where to kiss to make me loose my mind, but I didn't. That the day after, when I called it off, when I broke her, I had done it because I had started thinking that it wasn't right for me, not because it wasn't good, but because I wasn't able to do it. I was hurting, angry at myself, because I couldn't have this thing that I really wanted with her. Because I thought I just wasn't made that way. And I was embarrassed, and all I could see was that room, my room, and her body under my sheets. Her voice as it kept telling me that it was ok. That I didn't have to do it. And I could tell her that I was embarrassed, that I was hurt she couldn't sense my discomfort, that I was angry at her for telling me those things. For reassuring me because I couldn't perform.
Or maybe I could tell her that the blue sheets we last made love on are still on my bed. That her nighty is still on the nightstand. That her spare clothes are still in my dresser, waiting for her. That the morning after she broke up with me I woke up hugging her pillow, or that I called out her name, or that I sat there for an hour just staring at the empty spot beside me.
I could tell her that I went back home that night after work only to see our wine glasses on the counter, the half bottle of the wine she'd brought still next to them. That I turned and left. Without saying a word. Leaving Christina seated on the sofa, looking at me. I could tell her I've been working so hard the past month that I have never made it back to that place. I could tell her that the first time I was introduced to our new head of Cardio I almost lost my lunch. That I walked around for a month in a stupor, pretending, convincing everybody, convincing me, that I didn't miss her.
And I could tell her that I did. That I missed her so bad I haven't had a whole night sleep since she's been gone. That a part of me hates her for having given up. For having turned her back on me that day. For having walked away. That Seattle Grace had been the only place I had been able to call home my whole life. That my world was inside it's walls. That everybody I had ever known, every friend I had ever had was in there. That I was defending my life. That she was set on destroying it,destroying me, and that I wouldn't let her do it. That I didn't give a damn about Stevens, that I just wanted a sense of normalcy. That I just wanted a home. A job. Friends. And her. But that I wasn't ready to sacrifice everything just to have one thing. That I let her go. That I didn't stop her, because I couldn't. Because I wasn't ready to leave my life behind.
But seeing her, seeing her face, the hard set of her jaw, the cold eyes looking past me, the chill in the room, seeing all those things makes me mad. Mad at her. Because if she hadn't left, if she had stayed there and we'd had a fight, maybe the hell my life has turned into wouldn't have had to happen. Maybe we'd have fought bad, broke up even, but if she hadn't shut me out, if she had given me a chance to explain, maybe we would have been able to fix it, we would still be together, and we would still be in Seattle. She shouldn't have left. She just ... "Shouldn't have left"
And I realize I've said it out loud
My eyes widen in shock at my own words, my own voice. And I drop my head.
I'm staring at the floor but I can see her. In my mind. I can see her face.
Her eyes darkened with shock and hurt, slits of endless blue. Her mouth is open in a half smile, a crooked smile, disbelieving and angry. Her forehead is creased in a frown. A slight shake of her head, a puff of hair that escapes her frozen lungs. A blush creeping up her neck.
"Excuse me?" her voice hurts me like a slap in the face.
I didn't mean for it to start this way. I meant to grovel, not attack. But I'm here now, and my head feels light, and I can't take it back.
"You .. shouldn't have left. You should have stayed"
My breath is coming in short gasps, I need to sit down, but I don't.
"Ok, I'm not going to have this conversation." She stands up, headed for the door.
"Erica" I call out to her. To stop her. I'm not gonna let her leave again.
"Why are you here, Callie" exasperation and anger make her voice heavier than usual.
"I came here to talk to you" I stand my ground. She's intimidating and I know she has the power to break me, but I won't back down. I cannot afford to.
"About what?" Her eyes never leave mine, and it's a battle. A battle of wills as we stand here in the middle of the room, facing each other.
"About us!" I swallow against the bitterness of the anger in my throat. I can deal with tears. I can deal with anger. I can even deal with freaking out. What I cannot deal with is the ice around her features, her heart. My hands stay balled at my sides, I don't know what to do with them.
"Us?" Slow and purposeful. She wants me to hurt. She stands there, arms folded in front of her, and she wants me to hurt. I shake my head. I won't let her win. But it does hurts. Even if I know that saying it hurt her too, even if I know that, my heart breaks inside my chest a little more.
My head is spinning. I didn't plan on a fight. I wasn't prepared for it. I didn't want it. But seeing her standing here, as if I'm nothing to her, as if I'm a nuisance, is just fuel to my fire.
"Look, I just want to know why you left. I think you owe me at least that much"
"I owe you. I really don't think you should have come here" her voice reaches my ears, and it's light on a laugh. Before this moment I didn't think it was possible to fear a smile.
"Well I AM here!"
"I need you to go"
"I need you to answer me, I don't care what you need"
"Of course"
I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it like that. I didn't.. I can't control the words as they stumble on my tongue. She's here, and I can look at her, and I can breathe in her, and I can feel her body near mine. And we've been this close many times, and many times I've watched the red tendrils creep up her neck, burning her skin, and I have seen her eyes bright and wide just like this, but never in a fight. Never. Just that one time. And I came here to receive forgiveness but I can't say the right thing, I can't think, I can't.
"I need you to go" she repeats her words, firm in her stand, and they hurt all over again. I need to know this. I came all the way from Seattle to know this. I need to.
"Just.. why"
"Callie.." Her hand on the open door. She's throwing me out.
Her eyes look at me expectantly. She doesn't want me here.
I start towards the door, the door that will seal our fate and deem us strangers.
My head is bent down.
Defeated.
She's broken me.
And I grab it and I slam it closed.
"Stop it!" She's not gonna do it. She's not gonna throw me out.
"I'm not gonna go away and you're gonna answer me" My eyes burn holes in her chest. I can't meet her eyes, but I know that if I could they'd be full of shock. She's never seen me like this. Mad beyond belief. And I think it scares her. Or maybe it just pisses her off even more
"What! What do you want to know from me?"
"Why! Why you didn't fight! Why you left!"
"I didn't!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, but last time I checked we lived in Seattle, not LA. What part of it makes you think you didn't leave"
"I didn't" she laughs these words in my face. Shaking her head in amusement.
"Do not laugh at me, Erica. Do not laugh at me!"
"I'm not.. I'm not" why is she denying it? Why is she denying everything?
"I didn't leave, Callie. You did"
This is getting ridiculous.
"Me? I had to take a plane to talk to you! I called you a million times and you never picked up the phone! Not once! I took a flight and came here! I was the one left in that parking lot! I didn't leave!!"
She sighs. Her shoulders down. Her arms limp at her sides. Tired.
"Yeah you did. You did, Callie. You left me a hundred times over. You left"
"I didn't leave! I was just freaked out!"
"About me" It's not a question. And the fight dies in my throat. And I swallow against it.
She thinks it was because of her. I shake my head slowly, trying to understand this as I do
"...no...not about you"
And now it's her turn to get mad
"You said we'd try. You said we'd be scared together, but you left"
"I was.."
"Freaked out, I know. And you think I wasn't? Do you really think that I woke up one morning and, what, I was suddenly gay? Do you think I wanted to be gay? Do you really think that if I'd had the chance I wouldn't have just forgotten about it? But I didn't. I didn't because I thought that we'd do that together. That we would be there for each other. But you weren't there! You were constantly leaving!"
"But I came back" I feel small, small and lost. I didn't know this
"Yes, after! After avoiding me! After being awkward around me! After you got your fix with Sloan"
Sloan. the way she says it is almost an insult and I think it's meant to be
"Was it about Mark? Did you leave because of him?"
She shakes her head. Crosses her arms in front of her chest once again. Her jaw is set in an iron grip. Her face is ablaze with fire, and for a minute I'm distracted by a thought.
She's magnificent.
Even now. Even as she screams at me.
She's magnificent
"No, Callie. I left because of you"
"But you said ok"
"What was I supposed to say! You drained me, Callie. You took all the fight out of me. I didn't know what to say to you anymore, so I said ok"
Slowly I start to understand. We never were ok. She never was. I told her I wanted to be with her, but she didn't believe me. Not really. So she said ok.
"But you weren't ok" and I can't stop my mouth as it forms the words
"How could have I been ok?! Nobody would be ok with being cheated on!"
What? How did she jump to that?
"I didn't cheat on you!"
The way she sets her jaw tells me she's studying me. The way she perches her hands on her hips tells me she's loosing patience. The way she narrows her eyes tells me she's getting madder by the second
"So you didn't have sex with Sloan twice in a day? You didn't have sex with him every time we had a fight. And I suppose you didn't have sex with him the morning after we'd been together for the first time either. What did you do, play scrabble?"
"I... slept with him, yes. I did, and I told you I had done it"
She snorts in disbelief
"And that was supposed to make it go away? Make me feel better?"
I hesitate. I see the words we've just said as they take shape behind her eyes. I can feel her brain as it clicks into place.
Oh, god.
"I can't believe I didn't know this.."
Her head keeps slowly shaking, her mouth opens and closes around words she doesn't know how to let out
"You didn't even think we were together."
"Erica.." I plead, but I don't have anything to follow it with
"You.. you thought we were.. experimenting? Fooling around? This is not college Callie, and we are not teenagers!"
I swallow, push a strand of hair behind my ear. I have to say something, quick. And I could tell her that of course we were together, that I always knew we were together.
But I won't lie to her.
I don't think I even thought about what we were. I just knew she was my best friend, and I didn't think it over. I wouldn't.
"Get out of here" Ice. Pure ice, cold and deadly. It slices through me and I flinch. I waited too long to come up with and answer and now one is not welcome anymore. I'm not welcome anymore.
"No" I whisper
"Callie. Get out of here" every word as she lets them out in a whisper sounds a little louder in my ears.
I fold my arms over my chest, her mirror image. I'll stand my ground. Even if it is the last thing I'll do I'll stand my ground.
"You're gonna have to make me leave because I'm not moving"
"You want me to kick you out." It's a statement.
"I'm not leaving" I'm not. I'm not going away.
"Ok , that's it.." and she moves towards me, and I take a step back. Her hand reaches out again to grab my arm, but I shake it off.
"No..stop.."
And my hands are fighting her off, fighting off her hand that's on my arm as it pulls me towards her.
This is the first time I've feared her touch
"Let me go.."
"Callie.."
Her hair are in my face, in my eyes, I can't see. I can't see anything. And her hand is gripping me, pulling me, and I want to shake it off, and I grab at it with my other hand, but I can't loosen it's hold. And I want to break through this wall between us, and I want to talk to her, and I want her to stop, to help me. Help me. Please. Help me. I need you. I need you.
"I love you!"
And I'm in my dream once again. I'm in my dream, and I don't understand. I cannot understand if I'm awake or not, if I've dreamt it all, if I'm still waiting for Addison in her guest room, or if I'm really here, with her. But alone. Because she doesn't want me here. And I came all the way here to talk to her and be with her. Because I can't not be with her anymore. Because now I know what it means having her and I can't not have her. Because I've never been happier than when I was with her. And I've never been worse in my life than now that I'm without her. And I can't be without her. I can't . And I feel my eyes burning, and they hurt, and I shake. I shake so badly. And I want her to hold me, but she won't. And I made it like this. I made it this way. I made us this way. And I want everything to be back. To be ok. And I want to be ok. And I want to be whole. And I want to be with her.
"I love you.."
My voice cracks. And I cry. I cry. I shake as tears run down my face. And I cry. And I haven't cried in a month. And I cry all the tears I choked down, and I cry a little harder for all the fake smiles I had to put on my face since she's been gone. And my shoulders tremble, and I hide my face in my chest because more than my sobs, what is hurting me is that she's here but I can't touch her. And I stand here so close to her but I can't touch her. And I stand here alone. And I cry.
And her hand is still on my arm, but limp now. And maybe it's because she knows I wouldn't be able to stop her now if she threw me out. Maybe it's because she wants me to fight. And I feel her right hand on the back of my head. And my face has never felt better than now, buried in her neck. And she holds me to her. Her hand cradles my head, I'm afraid I'd fall if it wasn't for it holding me up. Her cheek on my head. And I clutch at her, with both hands, I clutch at her scrub top. And she whispers my name, and I cry harder. And she's holding me tight now, both arms around me as she whispers in my hair, whispers that it's ok. Whispers to me.
I breathe her in, big gulps of hair that burn my lungs, but I breathe her in. I've been without her scent for too long, and this might be the last time I'll feel this. Her. All of her. And I need it. And..
"Doctor Hahn?" a voice calls her away from me. But I won't let her go. And it's the same young guy with the warm eyes that told me where to find her, but now his eyes look like the ugliest I've ever seen, because I was with her. I was touching her. And he made it stop.
"I'm .. sorry to interrupt .. but your ten o'clock is in the lobby, and.."
She's half turned towards him but her arms are still around me.
"Let him up. I'll be right there." I shrink. Those are the worst words I've ever heard. The click of the door signals his departure, but my eyes stay closed and I breathe her in one last time.
"I have to go." she whispers, this time to me. I clear my voice.
"Can we at least talk about it?" it sounds as small as I feel right now
"I.. I don't know..I'm..not now." Not now. She didn't say 'not ever'. It's the best I could have hoped for.
"I could wait for you..." Her arms are not around me anymore, and I feel instantly their loss, the cold that seeps into me, making me tremble for a moment. She puts on her lab coat, and she's doctor Hahn again in an instant.
"Not here. I'm not gonna do this at work. I'll call you once I'm done."
"Ok" She moves to the door, opens it. But I haven't moved yet, and she turns expectantly to me.
"I have to get back to work" My hands tighten so hard I can feel my fingernails dig in my palms.
"Sure.. uhm.. I'll just..go"
The door closes behind me. I head to the elevator.
She is gonna call me.
Author: Spooky85
Pairing: Callie/Erica
Rating: Pg
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Prologue__Denial________ -_____Epilogue___(???)
Chapter1__Shock________ -_____Chapter15__(???)
Chapter2__depression____ -_____Chapter14__(???)
Chapter3__rebound______ -_____Chapter13__(???)
Chapter4__revulsion______ -_____Chapter12__(???)
Chapter5__secrets_______ -_____Chapter11__(???)
Chapter6__memories_____ -_____Chapter10__(reality)
Chapter7__disillusionment_ - ____Chapter9__(expectations)
_______________Chapter8_The Bridge___________
*Chapter10*
The first time I saw her I didn't notice her.
My life was filled with George and I didn't have room in my head for anybody but him.
She had been called to Seattle Grace to operate on his father. I only thought of her as that. The surgeon, the good surgeon who was going to have the power to break the man I loved. She looked sure of herself, uncaring of others. She looked confident. She was not afraid of being a woman in a man's club, and her flowing wavy hair were proof of that. She stood tall, looking down on the chief, on George. She towered over him, and I remember that I thought she looked impossibly tall bending down to speak to him, making him look like a kid. I remember I noticed how she walked, her back straight, her head held high, as they left me behind at the nurses station, cutting me out.
Man, for someone who professes I didn't notice her I sure did notice a lot of things.
I guess I felt something pull me towards her even then.
The second time I saw her was also the first time I spoke to her.
I had just been in the gallery, watching her perform a surgery. Mark was in the front row. He was always in the front row.
I remember I thought she owned the OR, that she was in her element, that she stood even taller in there than she did outside. I remember I thought she was great. Her hands moved flawlessly over the woman's heart, careful but sure at the same time. She was moving her fingers with assuredness, with precision, making them dance in the way years of practice had perfected, dance to save a life.
Out of the OR, in the scrub room, I approached her. I was scrubbing in while she was getting ready to leave.
"Great job, doctor Hahn. Flawless."
"Yes it was, doctor Torres" at seeing my face, that was surely showing the shock of her knowing me, she added "Your name was on the board after mine."
And she left.
And I thought she was rude.
I didn't know she hadn't even begun yet.
We became friends because of Mark. As much as she didn't want to admit it, his constant heavy flirting with her had made her brave an invitation for drinks to the two of us. Not because of us, or because she wanted to make friends, but because she simply didn't feel like going home that night.
We had fun. Fun like I had never had in a while, maybe ever. We got each other, instinctively. We would look at each other and whole pieces of a conversation would flow through our eyes. Instant friends. Inseparable friends. Best friends.
We would laugh together, giggle at each other, we'd share private jokes that other people couldn't understand. We did everything together.
I had never felt more at ease or connected to someone in my whole life, we started sharing lunch time, we'd make it a point of knowing the other's schedule, so we could take a short break for coffee together. One day I found her in the lobby, we were both on our way home. We went out for drinks, laughing at our colleagues and playing darts. Than it became a silent appointment, we'd both wait for the other in the lobby to unwind together from the stress of the day.
We started spending all our time together both at work and outside and it felt weird, but it felt great. I had never had a best friend in my whole life, the closest I'd ever come to it had been Addison, but as soon as we'd started forming a real bond she had moved to another state, leaving me alone once again.
I remember the look on her face the first time I invited her back to my place for a glass of wine. I remember I was elated that she'd accepted even though she'd have to brave the possibility of Christina showing up and drooling all over her. I knew she disliked my roommate greatly, but she accepted anyway.
And so she did the first time I told her I wanted to go out dancing. She looked as uncomfortable as I've ever seen her, but she said yes, put on an amazing sparkling silver thing, grabbed her coat and purse and showed me to the taxi waiting for us. We danced all night, sharing drinks and stories, laughing until our sides hurt and eyes were filled with tears. We danced together, and I felt a tingle creep up the length of my spine as she put her hands on my hips, pulling me closer, whispering in my ear that I was one hell of a dancer. I laughed to hide the blush, and stared looking for some guys we could dance with to hide the heavy feeling in my stomach.
We danced with them for the rest of the night and I remember I would keep looking at them, at his arms around her waist, at his blonde hair and knowing smirk. At her swaying body, at the way she would laugh with him, at the way her hand lay on his chest as he whispered something in her ear that got her laughing once again.
I remember my guy telling me that I could stop looking at them, that my friend was safe with his friend.
And I remember that it wasn't worry what had made me look, it was a different feeling, one that now I'd call jealousy, but that I couldn't identify then.
Morning came finally and I saw her making her way towards me, grabbing my hand and pulling me aside, waving goodbye at our new friends, making them moan in disappointment. Before I knew it I had my coat on and I was climbing in a taxi once again. I turned my head, and I looked at her. Eyes closed, head resting on the leather of the seat, golden hair splayed beautifully. And I remember that my hands itched with a need I couldn't describe, my body burning, my breath caught in my throat, when she licked distractedly her lower lip and her grainy voice reached me. She wanted coffee. And so we stopped a block from the hospital, headed towards a cafe. We ordered two cups.
One Vanilla and a Black brew to go.
And we drank them on our way to the hospital, talking about yoga and laughing at yet another thing I was sure I was gonna make her try. And she did. Each and every single time I proposed something to her she'd put up a fight but in the end she's say yes. She couldn't deny me, not even back then. She admitted it shyly one day, me curled in her arms, both naked on our bed.
We were one.
So it feels strange as we stand here, frozen in space.
She's still in the elevator, and I'm still standing here in front of her with my mouth open and my head empty.
The metal doors start closing and that snaps us back into the reality around us. Back into action.
Her hand darts out to stop the doors, her eyes blink, to make sure I'm not her head playing tricks on her.
Hurt and fear flash in her eyes before she squares her shoulders, clenches her teeth, puts on her mask.
I step aside and let her get out of the elevator and into the corridor, and I silently follow her towards her office. Neither of us has said anything, and I know I'll have to start. And I can feel my palms sweating.
I've already walked this hall twice, but it never felt this long before. I cannot look at her. My eyes are trained on her shadow as it moves behind her.
She stops, suddenly, and I almost crash into her. I stop just in time. But not before a whiff of her perfume reaches me. Not before I breathe her in.
"Erica.." I try my voice and I don't think it's supposed to sound that shaky.
I should show her that I'm sure of me, of her, of us. I should make my point, and make it so convincing that she'll forgive me.
I should be calm and collected, I've thought about this very moment for the last four days after all.
She wordlessly opens the door to her office and drops her lab coat and scrub cap on the couch.
The scrub cap. It's a different one. I've never seen it on her, and I wonder if the one she used to wear at SGH is still in her locker there.
I stand just outside of the door, looking in, like a spectator to the most frightening and fascinating show. I devour with my eyes everything I see, I look for traces of her in the room, traces of me even. I'm waiting for my cue. She's the only one who can tell me what to do. She could close the door and I would go away. She could invite me in and we could try.
She walks towards me, her eyes just above my head, avoiding me, seeing through me, and I start to wonder if I'm even here.
But I must be, because she moves aside, holding the door, signaling me to get in her office.
I feel small and insecure.
And Mark's voice resonates through my head. Being sent to the principal's office. This is exactly what this feels like.
She lets me in but she doesn't ask me to join her on the couch. I stand here, in the middle of the room, I just stand here.
After the longest silence, she licks her lips, and my hands itch with the need to touch her face, to pull the door open and run. Her eyes never leave the intricate patterns on the rug under her feet.
"So.."
I'm a statue. Maybe if I stay here still enough she'll forget I'm here. She'll go on with her life and I'll be allowed to just be here watching her.
But life never unfolds the way I hope for it to go. Her head lifts. Eyes cold daggers in my heart.
"Are you planning on saying something at some point or did you just come here to stand there"
Harsh and rude. Doctor Hahn.
"I..."
And I realize I don't know what to say to her.
After all this time, and all the times I've played this moment, the many versions of it, in my head, in an endless loop, after all this I don't know what to say to her.
And I could tell her that I'm sorry. And I could tell her that I fell for her the first time I saw her. That I first admired her skill, then cherished her friendship, that needed her love. I could. I could tell her that when Addison came to us, to me, asking me, telling me that we were together, I could tell her I freaked out. I could tell her I went to Mark to get rid of the fantasies, but it only made it worse. That sex with him had always been about her.
Or maybe I could tell her that I got scared, when we were together, that I got scared that she was there and I wasn't, that the person I had walked with the last few months had suddenly sprinted way ahead of me, leaving me behind, dragging me with her even though I wasn't ready, making me fall.
I could tell her that the night we had sex for the first time I freaked out because she seemed to know what to do instinctively, and I didn't. She knew where to touch and where to kiss to make me loose my mind, but I didn't. That the day after, when I called it off, when I broke her, I had done it because I had started thinking that it wasn't right for me, not because it wasn't good, but because I wasn't able to do it. I was hurting, angry at myself, because I couldn't have this thing that I really wanted with her. Because I thought I just wasn't made that way. And I was embarrassed, and all I could see was that room, my room, and her body under my sheets. Her voice as it kept telling me that it was ok. That I didn't have to do it. And I could tell her that I was embarrassed, that I was hurt she couldn't sense my discomfort, that I was angry at her for telling me those things. For reassuring me because I couldn't perform.
Or maybe I could tell her that the blue sheets we last made love on are still on my bed. That her nighty is still on the nightstand. That her spare clothes are still in my dresser, waiting for her. That the morning after she broke up with me I woke up hugging her pillow, or that I called out her name, or that I sat there for an hour just staring at the empty spot beside me.
I could tell her that I went back home that night after work only to see our wine glasses on the counter, the half bottle of the wine she'd brought still next to them. That I turned and left. Without saying a word. Leaving Christina seated on the sofa, looking at me. I could tell her I've been working so hard the past month that I have never made it back to that place. I could tell her that the first time I was introduced to our new head of Cardio I almost lost my lunch. That I walked around for a month in a stupor, pretending, convincing everybody, convincing me, that I didn't miss her.
And I could tell her that I did. That I missed her so bad I haven't had a whole night sleep since she's been gone. That a part of me hates her for having given up. For having turned her back on me that day. For having walked away. That Seattle Grace had been the only place I had been able to call home my whole life. That my world was inside it's walls. That everybody I had ever known, every friend I had ever had was in there. That I was defending my life. That she was set on destroying it,destroying me, and that I wouldn't let her do it. That I didn't give a damn about Stevens, that I just wanted a sense of normalcy. That I just wanted a home. A job. Friends. And her. But that I wasn't ready to sacrifice everything just to have one thing. That I let her go. That I didn't stop her, because I couldn't. Because I wasn't ready to leave my life behind.
But seeing her, seeing her face, the hard set of her jaw, the cold eyes looking past me, the chill in the room, seeing all those things makes me mad. Mad at her. Because if she hadn't left, if she had stayed there and we'd had a fight, maybe the hell my life has turned into wouldn't have had to happen. Maybe we'd have fought bad, broke up even, but if she hadn't shut me out, if she had given me a chance to explain, maybe we would have been able to fix it, we would still be together, and we would still be in Seattle. She shouldn't have left. She just ... "Shouldn't have left"
And I realize I've said it out loud
My eyes widen in shock at my own words, my own voice. And I drop my head.
I'm staring at the floor but I can see her. In my mind. I can see her face.
Her eyes darkened with shock and hurt, slits of endless blue. Her mouth is open in a half smile, a crooked smile, disbelieving and angry. Her forehead is creased in a frown. A slight shake of her head, a puff of hair that escapes her frozen lungs. A blush creeping up her neck.
"Excuse me?" her voice hurts me like a slap in the face.
I didn't mean for it to start this way. I meant to grovel, not attack. But I'm here now, and my head feels light, and I can't take it back.
"You .. shouldn't have left. You should have stayed"
My breath is coming in short gasps, I need to sit down, but I don't.
"Ok, I'm not going to have this conversation." She stands up, headed for the door.
"Erica" I call out to her. To stop her. I'm not gonna let her leave again.
"Why are you here, Callie" exasperation and anger make her voice heavier than usual.
"I came here to talk to you" I stand my ground. She's intimidating and I know she has the power to break me, but I won't back down. I cannot afford to.
"About what?" Her eyes never leave mine, and it's a battle. A battle of wills as we stand here in the middle of the room, facing each other.
"About us!" I swallow against the bitterness of the anger in my throat. I can deal with tears. I can deal with anger. I can even deal with freaking out. What I cannot deal with is the ice around her features, her heart. My hands stay balled at my sides, I don't know what to do with them.
"Us?" Slow and purposeful. She wants me to hurt. She stands there, arms folded in front of her, and she wants me to hurt. I shake my head. I won't let her win. But it does hurts. Even if I know that saying it hurt her too, even if I know that, my heart breaks inside my chest a little more.
My head is spinning. I didn't plan on a fight. I wasn't prepared for it. I didn't want it. But seeing her standing here, as if I'm nothing to her, as if I'm a nuisance, is just fuel to my fire.
"Look, I just want to know why you left. I think you owe me at least that much"
"I owe you. I really don't think you should have come here" her voice reaches my ears, and it's light on a laugh. Before this moment I didn't think it was possible to fear a smile.
"Well I AM here!"
"I need you to go"
"I need you to answer me, I don't care what you need"
"Of course"
I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it like that. I didn't.. I can't control the words as they stumble on my tongue. She's here, and I can look at her, and I can breathe in her, and I can feel her body near mine. And we've been this close many times, and many times I've watched the red tendrils creep up her neck, burning her skin, and I have seen her eyes bright and wide just like this, but never in a fight. Never. Just that one time. And I came here to receive forgiveness but I can't say the right thing, I can't think, I can't.
"I need you to go" she repeats her words, firm in her stand, and they hurt all over again. I need to know this. I came all the way from Seattle to know this. I need to.
"Just.. why"
"Callie.." Her hand on the open door. She's throwing me out.
Her eyes look at me expectantly. She doesn't want me here.
I start towards the door, the door that will seal our fate and deem us strangers.
My head is bent down.
Defeated.
She's broken me.
And I grab it and I slam it closed.
"Stop it!" She's not gonna do it. She's not gonna throw me out.
"I'm not gonna go away and you're gonna answer me" My eyes burn holes in her chest. I can't meet her eyes, but I know that if I could they'd be full of shock. She's never seen me like this. Mad beyond belief. And I think it scares her. Or maybe it just pisses her off even more
"What! What do you want to know from me?"
"Why! Why you didn't fight! Why you left!"
"I didn't!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, but last time I checked we lived in Seattle, not LA. What part of it makes you think you didn't leave"
"I didn't" she laughs these words in my face. Shaking her head in amusement.
"Do not laugh at me, Erica. Do not laugh at me!"
"I'm not.. I'm not" why is she denying it? Why is she denying everything?
"I didn't leave, Callie. You did"
This is getting ridiculous.
"Me? I had to take a plane to talk to you! I called you a million times and you never picked up the phone! Not once! I took a flight and came here! I was the one left in that parking lot! I didn't leave!!"
She sighs. Her shoulders down. Her arms limp at her sides. Tired.
"Yeah you did. You did, Callie. You left me a hundred times over. You left"
"I didn't leave! I was just freaked out!"
"About me" It's not a question. And the fight dies in my throat. And I swallow against it.
She thinks it was because of her. I shake my head slowly, trying to understand this as I do
"...no...not about you"
And now it's her turn to get mad
"You said we'd try. You said we'd be scared together, but you left"
"I was.."
"Freaked out, I know. And you think I wasn't? Do you really think that I woke up one morning and, what, I was suddenly gay? Do you think I wanted to be gay? Do you really think that if I'd had the chance I wouldn't have just forgotten about it? But I didn't. I didn't because I thought that we'd do that together. That we would be there for each other. But you weren't there! You were constantly leaving!"
"But I came back" I feel small, small and lost. I didn't know this
"Yes, after! After avoiding me! After being awkward around me! After you got your fix with Sloan"
Sloan. the way she says it is almost an insult and I think it's meant to be
"Was it about Mark? Did you leave because of him?"
She shakes her head. Crosses her arms in front of her chest once again. Her jaw is set in an iron grip. Her face is ablaze with fire, and for a minute I'm distracted by a thought.
She's magnificent.
Even now. Even as she screams at me.
She's magnificent
"No, Callie. I left because of you"
"But you said ok"
"What was I supposed to say! You drained me, Callie. You took all the fight out of me. I didn't know what to say to you anymore, so I said ok"
Slowly I start to understand. We never were ok. She never was. I told her I wanted to be with her, but she didn't believe me. Not really. So she said ok.
"But you weren't ok" and I can't stop my mouth as it forms the words
"How could have I been ok?! Nobody would be ok with being cheated on!"
What? How did she jump to that?
"I didn't cheat on you!"
The way she sets her jaw tells me she's studying me. The way she perches her hands on her hips tells me she's loosing patience. The way she narrows her eyes tells me she's getting madder by the second
"So you didn't have sex with Sloan twice in a day? You didn't have sex with him every time we had a fight. And I suppose you didn't have sex with him the morning after we'd been together for the first time either. What did you do, play scrabble?"
"I... slept with him, yes. I did, and I told you I had done it"
She snorts in disbelief
"And that was supposed to make it go away? Make me feel better?"
I hesitate. I see the words we've just said as they take shape behind her eyes. I can feel her brain as it clicks into place.
Oh, god.
"I can't believe I didn't know this.."
Her head keeps slowly shaking, her mouth opens and closes around words she doesn't know how to let out
"You didn't even think we were together."
"Erica.." I plead, but I don't have anything to follow it with
"You.. you thought we were.. experimenting? Fooling around? This is not college Callie, and we are not teenagers!"
I swallow, push a strand of hair behind my ear. I have to say something, quick. And I could tell her that of course we were together, that I always knew we were together.
But I won't lie to her.
I don't think I even thought about what we were. I just knew she was my best friend, and I didn't think it over. I wouldn't.
"Get out of here" Ice. Pure ice, cold and deadly. It slices through me and I flinch. I waited too long to come up with and answer and now one is not welcome anymore. I'm not welcome anymore.
"No" I whisper
"Callie. Get out of here" every word as she lets them out in a whisper sounds a little louder in my ears.
I fold my arms over my chest, her mirror image. I'll stand my ground. Even if it is the last thing I'll do I'll stand my ground.
"You're gonna have to make me leave because I'm not moving"
"You want me to kick you out." It's a statement.
"I'm not leaving" I'm not. I'm not going away.
"Ok , that's it.." and she moves towards me, and I take a step back. Her hand reaches out again to grab my arm, but I shake it off.
"No..stop.."
And my hands are fighting her off, fighting off her hand that's on my arm as it pulls me towards her.
This is the first time I've feared her touch
"Let me go.."
"Callie.."
Her hair are in my face, in my eyes, I can't see. I can't see anything. And her hand is gripping me, pulling me, and I want to shake it off, and I grab at it with my other hand, but I can't loosen it's hold. And I want to break through this wall between us, and I want to talk to her, and I want her to stop, to help me. Help me. Please. Help me. I need you. I need you.
"I love you!"
And I'm in my dream once again. I'm in my dream, and I don't understand. I cannot understand if I'm awake or not, if I've dreamt it all, if I'm still waiting for Addison in her guest room, or if I'm really here, with her. But alone. Because she doesn't want me here. And I came all the way here to talk to her and be with her. Because I can't not be with her anymore. Because now I know what it means having her and I can't not have her. Because I've never been happier than when I was with her. And I've never been worse in my life than now that I'm without her. And I can't be without her. I can't . And I feel my eyes burning, and they hurt, and I shake. I shake so badly. And I want her to hold me, but she won't. And I made it like this. I made it this way. I made us this way. And I want everything to be back. To be ok. And I want to be ok. And I want to be whole. And I want to be with her.
"I love you.."
My voice cracks. And I cry. I cry. I shake as tears run down my face. And I cry. And I haven't cried in a month. And I cry all the tears I choked down, and I cry a little harder for all the fake smiles I had to put on my face since she's been gone. And my shoulders tremble, and I hide my face in my chest because more than my sobs, what is hurting me is that she's here but I can't touch her. And I stand here so close to her but I can't touch her. And I stand here alone. And I cry.
And her hand is still on my arm, but limp now. And maybe it's because she knows I wouldn't be able to stop her now if she threw me out. Maybe it's because she wants me to fight. And I feel her right hand on the back of my head. And my face has never felt better than now, buried in her neck. And she holds me to her. Her hand cradles my head, I'm afraid I'd fall if it wasn't for it holding me up. Her cheek on my head. And I clutch at her, with both hands, I clutch at her scrub top. And she whispers my name, and I cry harder. And she's holding me tight now, both arms around me as she whispers in my hair, whispers that it's ok. Whispers to me.
I breathe her in, big gulps of hair that burn my lungs, but I breathe her in. I've been without her scent for too long, and this might be the last time I'll feel this. Her. All of her. And I need it. And..
"Doctor Hahn?" a voice calls her away from me. But I won't let her go. And it's the same young guy with the warm eyes that told me where to find her, but now his eyes look like the ugliest I've ever seen, because I was with her. I was touching her. And he made it stop.
"I'm .. sorry to interrupt .. but your ten o'clock is in the lobby, and.."
She's half turned towards him but her arms are still around me.
"Let him up. I'll be right there." I shrink. Those are the worst words I've ever heard. The click of the door signals his departure, but my eyes stay closed and I breathe her in one last time.
"I have to go." she whispers, this time to me. I clear my voice.
"Can we at least talk about it?" it sounds as small as I feel right now
"I.. I don't know..I'm..not now." Not now. She didn't say 'not ever'. It's the best I could have hoped for.
"I could wait for you..." Her arms are not around me anymore, and I feel instantly their loss, the cold that seeps into me, making me tremble for a moment. She puts on her lab coat, and she's doctor Hahn again in an instant.
"Not here. I'm not gonna do this at work. I'll call you once I'm done."
"Ok" She moves to the door, opens it. But I haven't moved yet, and she turns expectantly to me.
"I have to get back to work" My hands tighten so hard I can feel my fingernails dig in my palms.
"Sure.. uhm.. I'll just..go"
The door closes behind me. I head to the elevator.
She is gonna call me.