fic: Nobody Offered His Word (Richard)
Title: Nobody Offered His Word
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Character: Chief Richard Webber
Word Count: 550
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for the ga_fanfic Character Study Challenge. Amid the procession of infuriating interns, Richard makes a startling revelation. Set during Losing My Religion.
Author's Note: This was HARD!
It's not until Karev is seated opposite him, slouched insouciantly in his chair and spouting sporting references at him he'll never begin to understand, that Richard finally starts to identify the vague sense of unease that had been settling, heavy on his shoulders.
There is frustration, but that particular emotion has been present from day dot with this lot and the taste of it, bitter thick on his tongue, has always been readily identifiable. There is bubbling anger as well, but that's tended to run a close second to frustration of late and so it's not as confusing as it once might have been.
He pushes back into his own chair then, forces himself to concentrate on the useless justifications being tossed in his direction.
*
Yang's admission throws him off track momentarily and it's not a stumble he'll readily admit to. Lulls him into a false sense of security before rendering him speechless for a beat or several. In the end he doesn't push the point.
Can see a race lost before he even identifies where the finish line might have been.
Believes every immediate justification he's conjured as he tells her she's excused.
Tells her again.
*
He manages to catch the fact that Stevens is refusing to confirm or deny anything.
Though she references her boobs and her blonde hair one too many times for him to decipher much of anything else.
*
Richard had singled George O'Malley out as the weakest link long before now. His perpetually stunned expression perhaps a smoke screen for an inner strength he'd managed to more than underestimated on a number of occasions.
Three quarters of the way through his most recent monologue, Richard concludes that the topic of conversation has switched somewhat tangentially.
Notes with a sigh that divergence has become something of a theme.
*
He'd tactically scheduled Meredith for last because he'd been optimistically confident of having his answer by now. Chastises himself for his lack of fore-sight as she's slipping through the door to his office and settling rigidly into the seat opposite him, refusing petulantly to catch his gaze.
He abandons his plan then. If he'd ever really had one at all.
Settles on begging and hates himself only a little bit for it.
Finds himself completely sideswiped by where things head from there. Feels his mouth drop to open soundlessly but knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that there can be no words to right that particular piece of history.
*
When she leaves he thinks she takes most of the air in his office with her. He feels emptied out. Unable to put a name to exactly what has just happened.
Isn't even sure that he wants to.
*
Later, when they're creeping, procession-like along the hallway, mood incongruent with the way in which they're dressed, all tailored suits and tear-stained pink dresses, he settles on an explanation that seems odd given the circumstances.
He's jealous.
Of them. The five of them. Of their bond. Of the way they have so completely and utterly banded together in the face of turmoil. Colleagues most of them, nothing more. But bound with something else entirely. A sense of loyalty that was merely a pipe dream during his own time in training.
Drags in a shuddered breath, concedes; is merely a pipe dream still now.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Character: Chief Richard Webber
Word Count: 550
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for the ga_fanfic Character Study Challenge. Amid the procession of infuriating interns, Richard makes a startling revelation. Set during Losing My Religion.
Author's Note: This was HARD!
It's not until Karev is seated opposite him, slouched insouciantly in his chair and spouting sporting references at him he'll never begin to understand, that Richard finally starts to identify the vague sense of unease that had been settling, heavy on his shoulders.
There is frustration, but that particular emotion has been present from day dot with this lot and the taste of it, bitter thick on his tongue, has always been readily identifiable. There is bubbling anger as well, but that's tended to run a close second to frustration of late and so it's not as confusing as it once might have been.
He pushes back into his own chair then, forces himself to concentrate on the useless justifications being tossed in his direction.
*
Yang's admission throws him off track momentarily and it's not a stumble he'll readily admit to. Lulls him into a false sense of security before rendering him speechless for a beat or several. In the end he doesn't push the point.
Can see a race lost before he even identifies where the finish line might have been.
Believes every immediate justification he's conjured as he tells her she's excused.
Tells her again.
*
He manages to catch the fact that Stevens is refusing to confirm or deny anything.
Though she references her boobs and her blonde hair one too many times for him to decipher much of anything else.
*
Richard had singled George O'Malley out as the weakest link long before now. His perpetually stunned expression perhaps a smoke screen for an inner strength he'd managed to more than underestimated on a number of occasions.
Three quarters of the way through his most recent monologue, Richard concludes that the topic of conversation has switched somewhat tangentially.
Notes with a sigh that divergence has become something of a theme.
*
He'd tactically scheduled Meredith for last because he'd been optimistically confident of having his answer by now. Chastises himself for his lack of fore-sight as she's slipping through the door to his office and settling rigidly into the seat opposite him, refusing petulantly to catch his gaze.
He abandons his plan then. If he'd ever really had one at all.
Settles on begging and hates himself only a little bit for it.
Finds himself completely sideswiped by where things head from there. Feels his mouth drop to open soundlessly but knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that there can be no words to right that particular piece of history.
*
When she leaves he thinks she takes most of the air in his office with her. He feels emptied out. Unable to put a name to exactly what has just happened.
Isn't even sure that he wants to.
*
Later, when they're creeping, procession-like along the hallway, mood incongruent with the way in which they're dressed, all tailored suits and tear-stained pink dresses, he settles on an explanation that seems odd given the circumstances.
He's jealous.
Of them. The five of them. Of their bond. Of the way they have so completely and utterly banded together in the face of turmoil. Colleagues most of them, nothing more. But bound with something else entirely. A sense of loyalty that was merely a pipe dream during his own time in training.
Drags in a shuddered breath, concedes; is merely a pipe dream still now.