Grey's Anatomy: Three Words (3/4)
Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy
Title: Three Words
Rating: R
Status: In progress (3/4)
Author: englishstrawbie
Characters/Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: In reality, they belong to Shonda. But I don't live in reality. Also this.
Author's Note: Written for the callie_arizona drama/angst fanfic challenge. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 6.
Arizona’s POV
It’s 3am and I’m curled up in one of the on-call rooms trying desperately to sleep. This is the third night in a row that I’ve worked and I’m exhausted. The hospital’s patients don’t seem to want me to get any rest at the moment. My mind isn’t on the job right now. I’m simply getting through each shift as quickly as possible.
I made my decision a few days ago. The Chief was reluctant at first but I finally won him round. There’s a part of me that feels guilty for breaking my contract, but a bigger part of me is relieved that I will soon be gone. Since making my decision, my days have been spent packing and my nights working. Tonight is my last shift. At noon, I will be out of here and away from this place; away from her.
Our encounter has been playing on my mind. The lines on her face were an obvious sign that she has been drinking too much and sleeping too little. I’ve heard the stories. I’ve been avoiding Joe’s for the last month because I can’t bear to see her acting that way. I have to stop my mind from wondering about what happens at the end of the night…into whose arms she might be falling.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for sleep to come, to take me away from my thoughts. I don’t know how much time passes, but it feels like no time at all when I hear the familiar bleeping of my pager. I hear myself groan. I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My back aches from lying on the hard mattress. I stand up and stretch my body. I can feel every muscle pinching. I roll my neck before making my way to the ER.
I arrive just as two ambulances are pulling in. Owen is there and briefs me: a family of three - mother, father and son - in a car accident. It sounds messy and I’m not sure what state the patients will be in.
The father is unloaded first. His hair is full of grey matter and everyone knows that he is already dead, but they keep trying anyway. He’s taken inside and I turn my attention to the second ambulance. The doors open and the mother is brought out on a gurney. A paramedic is pumping on her chest and there’s a lot of blood, but her vitals sound more promising. Owen barks orders to the interns with him and wheels the gurney inside. He calls back to me, telling me that he’ll keep me updated.
I’m left outside alone. I peer inside the ambulance to see a small boy, no more than 4 or 5 years old, cowering in the corner. I step inside tentatively and crouch down to meet his eye level.
“Hi,” I say gently. “I’m Doctor Robbins. What’s your name?”
His eyes widen, obviously terrified, and he backs further into the corner of the ambulance. “Can you tell me your name?” I ask again.
He opens his mouth a little and I give him an encouraging smile.
“Patrick.”
“Hi, Patrick. I’m going to take care of you, ok?” I say.
“Where’s my mommy?”
“She’s with the doctors. She was hurt in the accident and they’re trying to help her,” I say. I know I can’t give him any false hope when I don’t know the extent of her injuries. I take him inside and carry out my examination. He has some cuts and bruises, but he doesn’t seem to have any extensive injuries. I order some x-rays just in case and I’m relieved to see that they are clear.
It has taken some time, but Patrick has slowly come to trust me - so much that he has barely left my side. The nurses have fallen in love with him. He has turned out to be quite a charmer and they fawn all over him.
I’m sat at the nurses’ station watching him when I glance at the clock and realise that my shift is almost over. This morning has gone quickly. I know there’s a farewell party planned for me, but I’m hoping I can escape before anyone notices I’m gone. I don’t want any fuss. I haven’t really told anyone that I’m going, but I’m sure that the gossip has spread, as it always does. That’s one thing I won’t miss about this place.
I wonder if Callie has heard. I know I should have told her myself. I feel guilty about her hearing it from someone else, but I’m not brave enough to have that conversation. She’s the reason that I am leaving, but she would also be the reason that I stayed. I already miss her like crazy so being miles apart from her won’t feel any different, except I shall be glad not to go through every day wondering if I will see her. Despite the great lengths I go to to avoid her, I find that I’m actually disappointed that I won’t feel that anticipation any more.
I know that this is what I have to do to get over her. I can’t carry on in this life; it’s too hard.
I hear Patrick giggling and it breaks my thoughts. I’m still waiting for an update from Owen. Patrick’s father was pronounced dead shortly after he arrived and his mother was taken quickly to surgery. I decide to leave Patrick at the nurses’ station and I make my way to surgery. This is the last task I have to do before my shift ends and I pray as I walk that it will be good news for at least one of his parents.
I find Owen as he’s coming out of one of the operation rooms. I can tell from the look on his face that the surgery was unsuccessful. He tells me that she had lacerations to her stomach and liver, and there was too much damage to repair.
I feel my heart sink. I hate this part of my job. How am I supposed to tell a five year old child that both his parents are dead? I make my way slowly downstairs and find Patrick where I left him at the nurses’ station. I can see him drawing on a piece of paper and he’s laughing at something. I know I’m about to break his world. I pause, trying to find the courage from somewhere inside of me. I’m not sure I have the strength to get through this, but I know that I have no choice.
I walk up to the desk and take him into a private room. I sit him on the edge of a bed and I perch next to him.
“Patrick, I have to talk to you about your mom and dad,” I say.
“Can I show them my picture?” he says brightly, holding out the piece of paper he had been drawing on.
My heart breaks for him. I shake my head. “They were hurt very badly in the accident. Your dad hurt his head and your mom, she hurt her tummy and it made her bleed inside.”
He’s looking at me intently. I feel a tear fall down my face and I brush it away.
“The doctors tried really hard to make them better but they were hurt too much and they died.”
He sits there quietly for a moment, before looking up at me with earnest eyes. “But daddy said that we could go to Disneyland.”
“I’m sorry, Patrick.” I stroke his hair gently.
“But daddy said so.” His bottom lip starts to tremble and he pulls away from me. He jumps off the bed and runs towards the door. I call after him but he ignores me, running out into the corridor. I chase after him. His little legs aren’t fast enough and I catch up with him easily. I wrap my arms around him and pick him up off the floor to stop him from running. He screams at me to let go.
“No! Stop it!”
He wriggles in my grasp but I don’t let go.
“I hate you!” he screams. “I hate you! I hate you!”
I falter. He has so much venom in his voice for such a young boy and I drop him, allowing him to run into the arms of one of the nurses. He sobs into her tunic. Tears form in my own eyes. I can feel everyone watching and I shrink under their stares. I stumble backwards, turning on my heel and walking quickly away. I rush to the attendings’ lounge and close the door firmly behind me. The room is empty and I’m glad. I fall onto one of the benches and bury my head in my hands.
I think about my brother, dying alone in the middle of a battleground in Iraq; I think about my broken family; I think about my broken relationship with Callie; I think about that broken little boy. Everything around me has fallen apart and I am alone.
This isn’t my life. This isn’t how things were supposed to turn out. I feel completely overwhelmed and I can’t take it any more. My body shakes as the tears keep falling down my cheeks and into my lap.
I don’t hear the door open or the footsteps stomping into the room. The first time I am aware of her is when I hear her voice.
“You’re leaving?”
Callie’s POV
I’m already awake by the time my alarm goes off. I push the button on top of my alarm clock but I don’t move; instead, I lie still on my back and stare at the ceiling, as I’ve been doing for the last couple of hours. It’s become a chore to get out of bed every day because I know that nothing will have changed from the day before. I’m still alone.
I haven’t seen her since we met in the consultation room. I’ve tried so hard to put that day out of my mind, but the hurt in her eyes still haunts me. Hurt that I have caused her; hurt that I have caused myself.
I sigh loudly, but no-one is here to hear me. My mouth is dry from too many rum and cokes last night - again. I’m pretty sure I’m paying off Joe’s mortgage on that place at the moment. I sit up and have to pause as my head starts to throb. I reach for the painkillers that I’ve strategically placed next to bed and the bottle of water on the floor. I knock back a couple of aspirin and drink the water in one go. I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. The water is hot and refreshing. I move slowly as I wash my hair and cleanse my body. My tears mingle with the water and I wish I could wash away the ghosts from my past.
I arrive at work just before my shift starts at 8am. I go through the motions of putting my bag in my locker, changing into my scrubs, pulling on my lab coat and going to check the surgery board. I return greetings when people say hello, but not many of them do any more, preferring to leave me alone in my squalor. I don’t care - I don’t want to have to make conversation with anybody.
I see that I’m scheduled for two hip replacements later that day. They’re boring but familiar and I am hopeful that I can get through the day quickly. My eyes scan the board again, this time searching for Arizona’s name. It has become part of my routine. I don’t know why; I don’t know if I’m hoping that I’ll bump into her or hoping that I don’t. Either way, I’m disappointed when I don’t see her listed anywhere.
Karev comes up beside me and shoves a chart into my hands, telling me that there’s a patient waiting for me in the ER before rushing off in another direction. I roll my eyes after him, annoyed by his manner. He’s never exactly been my favourite person and I don’t have any patience for his arrogance these days.
I flick my eyes over the chart that now occupies my hands. His name is Thomas Patterson. He’s a 76 year old male who fell down a short flight of steps. The initial assessment suggests that he’s dislocated his hip and broken his ankle, and x-rays have been ordered to confirm the extent of the damage. I make my way to the ER to meet him. He’s waiting for me in a consult room with an elderly lady whom I immediately assume is his wife. She’s sat next to him on a chair, holding his hand and speaking to him in a hushed voice.
I walk in to the room to introduce myself.
“Hello, Mr Patterson. I’m Doctor Torres, I’m an orthopaedic surgeon. I’ve been asked to take a look at your injuries,” I say.
Despite his obvious pain, my patient smiles brightly at me. I manoeuvre him gently on the bed so that I can carry out my own assessment, my hands moving over his hips and legs to check for any obvious damage. It’s quickly clear to me that Karev’s assessment is correct.
“You fell down some steps?” I ask him, making conversation to distract him from the pain as I touch his battered body.
“Yes, it was silly really. I tripped over one of my grandchildren’s toys on the porch and fell down the steps into the garden. My wife tells me I made quite a noise.”
His explanation matches his injuries. I smile at his wife, whose face is etched with worry.
“I’m going to ask one of the interns to take you for some x-rays but I think Doctor Karev is right. It looks like you’ve dislocated your hip and broken your ankle,” I explain. “You’re going to need surgery to mend your hip and we might as well fix up your ankle while you’re under anaesthetic.”
“Is surgery really necessary, Doctor?” Mrs Patterson asks me.
I nod. “Yes, if my diagnosis is correct, he will need surgery. It looks like your husband is good health, so I don’t have any concerns about the surgery right now. The x-rays will tell us more about the extent of the damage. I’ll come and see you again when we have those results.”
“Thank you, Doctor Torres,” Mr Patterson says as I back out of the room.
I leave the chart with one of the interns and make my way back to the surgical ward, carrying out my rounds with today’s patients. My headache has cleared and I’m starting to feel brighter. Work is proving to be a useful distraction today. It’s after 11am already and I decide that I need a break. I look for Mark and I’m told he’s on a consult in the ER.
I make my way to the ER to find Mark and hang about at the admit desk as I wait for him to finish his consult. As I wait, I see Mrs Patterson sat alone in her husband’s room. She looks lost and my heart reaches out to her. I wander over to the room and knock lightly on the door.
“Mrs Patterson?”
She looks up and immediately appears comforted to see a familiar face.
“They took my Tom to have his x-rays done,” she says to me. She’s still got that terrified look on her face.
I sit down next to her. “How long have you been married?”
“Coming up to 50 years,” she answers.
“Wow,” I say out loud before I can stop myself. I can barely make a relationship last 50 days, let alone 50 years. “You must love each other very much.”
“Oh yes, we do,” she smiles.
I can see that my conversation is calming her nerves, so I carry on. “Your husband mentioned that you have grandchildren. How many do you have?”
“We have five children and six grandchildren at the moment, with one more on the way. Would you like to see pictures?”
She’s rooting around her bag before I can answer. She passes me a handful of crumpled photos from her purse and I accept them politely. The first thing I notice from the photos is how happy everyone looks; couples looking adoringly at each other and children full of joy in each other’s company. I feel a great wave of jealousy run through me.
“You must be very proud,” I say, my voice wavering slightly.
“I am. I have a wonderful family,” she says. “What about you, Doctor Torres? Do you have a family?”
“Me? Oh, I…no, I don’t,” I stutter. I curse myself for making it so obvious.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mrs Patterson says softly.
“No, it’s ok. I, uh, I recently came out of a relationship with someone.” I can’t believe I’m telling her this. I can barely open up to my friends, and yet I’m speaking to a complete stranger.
She puts a hand on my knee. “Love isn’t easy, is it?”
I must look at her disbelievingly because she laughs a little.
“Me and Tom, we’ve had our fallings out over the years. We even broke up for 6 months once. We’d been married for four years and I guess we’d started taking each other for granted already. You might say it was our seven year itch a little early. Anyway, he moved out for a while and I thought about getting a divorce, but then I found out I was pregnant with our first child, Mary. It got us talking again and we reconnected, and we were stronger for it. We haven’t looked back since.”
I’m touched by her honesty. I see Arizona in my mind, her bright blue eyes staring into mine; I hear her laugh in my ears; I feel her hands on my body as she tells me she loves me. If only I was brave enough to tell her how I feel about her in return.
I close my eyes. I feel Mrs Patterson’s hand squeeze my knee.
“You still love this person.” It’s not a question, but a fact.
I shrug. “I’m too scared to fall in love,” I admit for the first time.
“Oh, now that’s just silly,” she admonishes. “You shouldn’t be afraid of falling in love. It can bring you so many wonderful things.”
“It can also break your heart,” I say quietly.
“Well, that’s a risk that you have to take. But you can’t live life alone. You need to take a deep breath and jump in. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” she says.
I smile ruefully. She’s pretty convincing. Her husband arrives back in the room at that moment. I ask the intern to page me as soon as the x-rays have been printed and I make my exit quickly, embarrassed about my display of emotions.
“That looked pretty intense,” I hear Karev’s voice in my ear. I sigh. He’s the last person I want around.
I shake my head in a lie. “We were just talking about her family.”
Alex grunts. He clearly doesn’t believe me.
“Are you going to Doctor Robbins’ leaving party?” he asks nonchalantly.
My head jerks up to look at him. “Leaving party? What do you mean ‘leaving party’?”
Karev looks surprised and I see him shift his weight awkwardly. “Haven’t you heard? About New York?”
I feel sick. She’s leaving? I shake my head blindly at him. I’m too late? No, I can’t be too late. I have to make things right.
I can’t believe this is happening when I’ve finally realised how I feel and what I have to do. It’s all come so quickly, but I know that I have to try and find her; to stop her from leaving, just like I should have done 4 weeks ago when she walked out of my apartment.
I thrust the chart towards Karev, telling him to keep an eye on my patient, before making my way towards the pediatric ward. It’s almost midday. I look around for her, but I can’t see her. There’s a small boy sobbing in the arms of a nurse but I don’t see Arizona anywhere. I grab one of the nurses and ask her for information. She points me in the direction of the attendings’ lounge. There’s something sombre about her, but I don’t really pay attention. I’m too focussed on finding Arizona.
I reach the attendings’ lounge and storm in, not caring about whom else might be in there. She’s on her own, sat on one of the benches. All the things I had to say have disappeared suddenly, except for one thing.
“You’re leaving?”
Title: Three Words
Rating: R
Status: In progress (3/4)
Author: englishstrawbie
Characters/Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: In reality, they belong to Shonda. But I don't live in reality. Also this.
Author's Note: Written for the callie_arizona drama/angst fanfic challenge. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 6.
Arizona’s POV
It’s 3am and I’m curled up in one of the on-call rooms trying desperately to sleep. This is the third night in a row that I’ve worked and I’m exhausted. The hospital’s patients don’t seem to want me to get any rest at the moment. My mind isn’t on the job right now. I’m simply getting through each shift as quickly as possible.
I made my decision a few days ago. The Chief was reluctant at first but I finally won him round. There’s a part of me that feels guilty for breaking my contract, but a bigger part of me is relieved that I will soon be gone. Since making my decision, my days have been spent packing and my nights working. Tonight is my last shift. At noon, I will be out of here and away from this place; away from her.
Our encounter has been playing on my mind. The lines on her face were an obvious sign that she has been drinking too much and sleeping too little. I’ve heard the stories. I’ve been avoiding Joe’s for the last month because I can’t bear to see her acting that way. I have to stop my mind from wondering about what happens at the end of the night…into whose arms she might be falling.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for sleep to come, to take me away from my thoughts. I don’t know how much time passes, but it feels like no time at all when I hear the familiar bleeping of my pager. I hear myself groan. I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My back aches from lying on the hard mattress. I stand up and stretch my body. I can feel every muscle pinching. I roll my neck before making my way to the ER.
I arrive just as two ambulances are pulling in. Owen is there and briefs me: a family of three - mother, father and son - in a car accident. It sounds messy and I’m not sure what state the patients will be in.
The father is unloaded first. His hair is full of grey matter and everyone knows that he is already dead, but they keep trying anyway. He’s taken inside and I turn my attention to the second ambulance. The doors open and the mother is brought out on a gurney. A paramedic is pumping on her chest and there’s a lot of blood, but her vitals sound more promising. Owen barks orders to the interns with him and wheels the gurney inside. He calls back to me, telling me that he’ll keep me updated.
I’m left outside alone. I peer inside the ambulance to see a small boy, no more than 4 or 5 years old, cowering in the corner. I step inside tentatively and crouch down to meet his eye level.
“Hi,” I say gently. “I’m Doctor Robbins. What’s your name?”
His eyes widen, obviously terrified, and he backs further into the corner of the ambulance. “Can you tell me your name?” I ask again.
He opens his mouth a little and I give him an encouraging smile.
“Patrick.”
“Hi, Patrick. I’m going to take care of you, ok?” I say.
“Where’s my mommy?”
“She’s with the doctors. She was hurt in the accident and they’re trying to help her,” I say. I know I can’t give him any false hope when I don’t know the extent of her injuries. I take him inside and carry out my examination. He has some cuts and bruises, but he doesn’t seem to have any extensive injuries. I order some x-rays just in case and I’m relieved to see that they are clear.
It has taken some time, but Patrick has slowly come to trust me - so much that he has barely left my side. The nurses have fallen in love with him. He has turned out to be quite a charmer and they fawn all over him.
I’m sat at the nurses’ station watching him when I glance at the clock and realise that my shift is almost over. This morning has gone quickly. I know there’s a farewell party planned for me, but I’m hoping I can escape before anyone notices I’m gone. I don’t want any fuss. I haven’t really told anyone that I’m going, but I’m sure that the gossip has spread, as it always does. That’s one thing I won’t miss about this place.
I wonder if Callie has heard. I know I should have told her myself. I feel guilty about her hearing it from someone else, but I’m not brave enough to have that conversation. She’s the reason that I am leaving, but she would also be the reason that I stayed. I already miss her like crazy so being miles apart from her won’t feel any different, except I shall be glad not to go through every day wondering if I will see her. Despite the great lengths I go to to avoid her, I find that I’m actually disappointed that I won’t feel that anticipation any more.
I know that this is what I have to do to get over her. I can’t carry on in this life; it’s too hard.
I hear Patrick giggling and it breaks my thoughts. I’m still waiting for an update from Owen. Patrick’s father was pronounced dead shortly after he arrived and his mother was taken quickly to surgery. I decide to leave Patrick at the nurses’ station and I make my way to surgery. This is the last task I have to do before my shift ends and I pray as I walk that it will be good news for at least one of his parents.
I find Owen as he’s coming out of one of the operation rooms. I can tell from the look on his face that the surgery was unsuccessful. He tells me that she had lacerations to her stomach and liver, and there was too much damage to repair.
I feel my heart sink. I hate this part of my job. How am I supposed to tell a five year old child that both his parents are dead? I make my way slowly downstairs and find Patrick where I left him at the nurses’ station. I can see him drawing on a piece of paper and he’s laughing at something. I know I’m about to break his world. I pause, trying to find the courage from somewhere inside of me. I’m not sure I have the strength to get through this, but I know that I have no choice.
I walk up to the desk and take him into a private room. I sit him on the edge of a bed and I perch next to him.
“Patrick, I have to talk to you about your mom and dad,” I say.
“Can I show them my picture?” he says brightly, holding out the piece of paper he had been drawing on.
My heart breaks for him. I shake my head. “They were hurt very badly in the accident. Your dad hurt his head and your mom, she hurt her tummy and it made her bleed inside.”
He’s looking at me intently. I feel a tear fall down my face and I brush it away.
“The doctors tried really hard to make them better but they were hurt too much and they died.”
He sits there quietly for a moment, before looking up at me with earnest eyes. “But daddy said that we could go to Disneyland.”
“I’m sorry, Patrick.” I stroke his hair gently.
“But daddy said so.” His bottom lip starts to tremble and he pulls away from me. He jumps off the bed and runs towards the door. I call after him but he ignores me, running out into the corridor. I chase after him. His little legs aren’t fast enough and I catch up with him easily. I wrap my arms around him and pick him up off the floor to stop him from running. He screams at me to let go.
“No! Stop it!”
He wriggles in my grasp but I don’t let go.
“I hate you!” he screams. “I hate you! I hate you!”
I falter. He has so much venom in his voice for such a young boy and I drop him, allowing him to run into the arms of one of the nurses. He sobs into her tunic. Tears form in my own eyes. I can feel everyone watching and I shrink under their stares. I stumble backwards, turning on my heel and walking quickly away. I rush to the attendings’ lounge and close the door firmly behind me. The room is empty and I’m glad. I fall onto one of the benches and bury my head in my hands.
I think about my brother, dying alone in the middle of a battleground in Iraq; I think about my broken family; I think about my broken relationship with Callie; I think about that broken little boy. Everything around me has fallen apart and I am alone.
This isn’t my life. This isn’t how things were supposed to turn out. I feel completely overwhelmed and I can’t take it any more. My body shakes as the tears keep falling down my cheeks and into my lap.
I don’t hear the door open or the footsteps stomping into the room. The first time I am aware of her is when I hear her voice.
“You’re leaving?”
Callie’s POV
I’m already awake by the time my alarm goes off. I push the button on top of my alarm clock but I don’t move; instead, I lie still on my back and stare at the ceiling, as I’ve been doing for the last couple of hours. It’s become a chore to get out of bed every day because I know that nothing will have changed from the day before. I’m still alone.
I haven’t seen her since we met in the consultation room. I’ve tried so hard to put that day out of my mind, but the hurt in her eyes still haunts me. Hurt that I have caused her; hurt that I have caused myself.
I sigh loudly, but no-one is here to hear me. My mouth is dry from too many rum and cokes last night - again. I’m pretty sure I’m paying off Joe’s mortgage on that place at the moment. I sit up and have to pause as my head starts to throb. I reach for the painkillers that I’ve strategically placed next to bed and the bottle of water on the floor. I knock back a couple of aspirin and drink the water in one go. I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. The water is hot and refreshing. I move slowly as I wash my hair and cleanse my body. My tears mingle with the water and I wish I could wash away the ghosts from my past.
I arrive at work just before my shift starts at 8am. I go through the motions of putting my bag in my locker, changing into my scrubs, pulling on my lab coat and going to check the surgery board. I return greetings when people say hello, but not many of them do any more, preferring to leave me alone in my squalor. I don’t care - I don’t want to have to make conversation with anybody.
I see that I’m scheduled for two hip replacements later that day. They’re boring but familiar and I am hopeful that I can get through the day quickly. My eyes scan the board again, this time searching for Arizona’s name. It has become part of my routine. I don’t know why; I don’t know if I’m hoping that I’ll bump into her or hoping that I don’t. Either way, I’m disappointed when I don’t see her listed anywhere.
Karev comes up beside me and shoves a chart into my hands, telling me that there’s a patient waiting for me in the ER before rushing off in another direction. I roll my eyes after him, annoyed by his manner. He’s never exactly been my favourite person and I don’t have any patience for his arrogance these days.
I flick my eyes over the chart that now occupies my hands. His name is Thomas Patterson. He’s a 76 year old male who fell down a short flight of steps. The initial assessment suggests that he’s dislocated his hip and broken his ankle, and x-rays have been ordered to confirm the extent of the damage. I make my way to the ER to meet him. He’s waiting for me in a consult room with an elderly lady whom I immediately assume is his wife. She’s sat next to him on a chair, holding his hand and speaking to him in a hushed voice.
I walk in to the room to introduce myself.
“Hello, Mr Patterson. I’m Doctor Torres, I’m an orthopaedic surgeon. I’ve been asked to take a look at your injuries,” I say.
Despite his obvious pain, my patient smiles brightly at me. I manoeuvre him gently on the bed so that I can carry out my own assessment, my hands moving over his hips and legs to check for any obvious damage. It’s quickly clear to me that Karev’s assessment is correct.
“You fell down some steps?” I ask him, making conversation to distract him from the pain as I touch his battered body.
“Yes, it was silly really. I tripped over one of my grandchildren’s toys on the porch and fell down the steps into the garden. My wife tells me I made quite a noise.”
His explanation matches his injuries. I smile at his wife, whose face is etched with worry.
“I’m going to ask one of the interns to take you for some x-rays but I think Doctor Karev is right. It looks like you’ve dislocated your hip and broken your ankle,” I explain. “You’re going to need surgery to mend your hip and we might as well fix up your ankle while you’re under anaesthetic.”
“Is surgery really necessary, Doctor?” Mrs Patterson asks me.
I nod. “Yes, if my diagnosis is correct, he will need surgery. It looks like your husband is good health, so I don’t have any concerns about the surgery right now. The x-rays will tell us more about the extent of the damage. I’ll come and see you again when we have those results.”
“Thank you, Doctor Torres,” Mr Patterson says as I back out of the room.
I leave the chart with one of the interns and make my way back to the surgical ward, carrying out my rounds with today’s patients. My headache has cleared and I’m starting to feel brighter. Work is proving to be a useful distraction today. It’s after 11am already and I decide that I need a break. I look for Mark and I’m told he’s on a consult in the ER.
I make my way to the ER to find Mark and hang about at the admit desk as I wait for him to finish his consult. As I wait, I see Mrs Patterson sat alone in her husband’s room. She looks lost and my heart reaches out to her. I wander over to the room and knock lightly on the door.
“Mrs Patterson?”
She looks up and immediately appears comforted to see a familiar face.
“They took my Tom to have his x-rays done,” she says to me. She’s still got that terrified look on her face.
I sit down next to her. “How long have you been married?”
“Coming up to 50 years,” she answers.
“Wow,” I say out loud before I can stop myself. I can barely make a relationship last 50 days, let alone 50 years. “You must love each other very much.”
“Oh yes, we do,” she smiles.
I can see that my conversation is calming her nerves, so I carry on. “Your husband mentioned that you have grandchildren. How many do you have?”
“We have five children and six grandchildren at the moment, with one more on the way. Would you like to see pictures?”
She’s rooting around her bag before I can answer. She passes me a handful of crumpled photos from her purse and I accept them politely. The first thing I notice from the photos is how happy everyone looks; couples looking adoringly at each other and children full of joy in each other’s company. I feel a great wave of jealousy run through me.
“You must be very proud,” I say, my voice wavering slightly.
“I am. I have a wonderful family,” she says. “What about you, Doctor Torres? Do you have a family?”
“Me? Oh, I…no, I don’t,” I stutter. I curse myself for making it so obvious.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mrs Patterson says softly.
“No, it’s ok. I, uh, I recently came out of a relationship with someone.” I can’t believe I’m telling her this. I can barely open up to my friends, and yet I’m speaking to a complete stranger.
She puts a hand on my knee. “Love isn’t easy, is it?”
I must look at her disbelievingly because she laughs a little.
“Me and Tom, we’ve had our fallings out over the years. We even broke up for 6 months once. We’d been married for four years and I guess we’d started taking each other for granted already. You might say it was our seven year itch a little early. Anyway, he moved out for a while and I thought about getting a divorce, but then I found out I was pregnant with our first child, Mary. It got us talking again and we reconnected, and we were stronger for it. We haven’t looked back since.”
I’m touched by her honesty. I see Arizona in my mind, her bright blue eyes staring into mine; I hear her laugh in my ears; I feel her hands on my body as she tells me she loves me. If only I was brave enough to tell her how I feel about her in return.
I close my eyes. I feel Mrs Patterson’s hand squeeze my knee.
“You still love this person.” It’s not a question, but a fact.
I shrug. “I’m too scared to fall in love,” I admit for the first time.
“Oh, now that’s just silly,” she admonishes. “You shouldn’t be afraid of falling in love. It can bring you so many wonderful things.”
“It can also break your heart,” I say quietly.
“Well, that’s a risk that you have to take. But you can’t live life alone. You need to take a deep breath and jump in. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” she says.
I smile ruefully. She’s pretty convincing. Her husband arrives back in the room at that moment. I ask the intern to page me as soon as the x-rays have been printed and I make my exit quickly, embarrassed about my display of emotions.
“That looked pretty intense,” I hear Karev’s voice in my ear. I sigh. He’s the last person I want around.
I shake my head in a lie. “We were just talking about her family.”
Alex grunts. He clearly doesn’t believe me.
“Are you going to Doctor Robbins’ leaving party?” he asks nonchalantly.
My head jerks up to look at him. “Leaving party? What do you mean ‘leaving party’?”
Karev looks surprised and I see him shift his weight awkwardly. “Haven’t you heard? About New York?”
I feel sick. She’s leaving? I shake my head blindly at him. I’m too late? No, I can’t be too late. I have to make things right.
I can’t believe this is happening when I’ve finally realised how I feel and what I have to do. It’s all come so quickly, but I know that I have to try and find her; to stop her from leaving, just like I should have done 4 weeks ago when she walked out of my apartment.
I thrust the chart towards Karev, telling him to keep an eye on my patient, before making my way towards the pediatric ward. It’s almost midday. I look around for her, but I can’t see her. There’s a small boy sobbing in the arms of a nurse but I don’t see Arizona anywhere. I grab one of the nurses and ask her for information. She points me in the direction of the attendings’ lounge. There’s something sombre about her, but I don’t really pay attention. I’m too focussed on finding Arizona.
I reach the attendings’ lounge and storm in, not caring about whom else might be in there. She’s on her own, sat on one of the benches. All the things I had to say have disappeared suddenly, except for one thing.
“You’re leaving?”