fic: The Road Ahead Is Clear Again (Bailey + Aaron)
Title: The Road Ahead Is Clear Again
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters: Miranda Bailey and Aaron Karev
Word Count: 800
Rating: PG
Summary: For the ga_fanfic Character Study Challenge. Episode tag for 6.19, Sympathy for the Parents. Bailey and Aaron have a conversation of sorts.
She's just the other side of half way to the parking lot when the silence splitting bleat of her pager has her closing her eyes and counting to fifteen. Fumbling for the still vibrating device, she counteracts the mind numbing exhaustion with a deep inhale of midnight black air before turning on her heels and heading back in the direction she'd just emerged from.
By the time she's finished attending to an elderly patient requiring emergency treatment, night has well and truly fallen inside the long hospital corridors and hushed surgical wards. She contemplates heading home until a quick glance at the clock on the wall behind the nurses’ station indicates it to be a futile exercise.
Decides on an entirely different course of action.
*
She eases into the room under the half light spilling from the hallway, reaches for her patient's chart even as she takes in the sleeping form of a familiar face in the chair beside the bed. There are additional charts spread out on the table top, a couple stacked precariously on the ground by feet that twitch to a beat she can't hear.
Knows the nursing staff will be looking for them over the course of the evening but figures they can wait another half hour at least.
She hears stirring then, shifts her gaze back to the less familiar of the brothers, brings her finger up to her lips and tilts her chin a little to the left. Holds his attention long enough to make sure he understands her message.
*
She's easing his chart back into its place when he inhales, speaks.
“Is he okay?”
And she thinks for a moment that the question seems to come from the wrong mouth. Blames her sleep deprived synapses for the beat of confusion that clouds her answer.
“Excuse me?” Whispered.
“Alex. Do you think he's okay?” He shifts, screws his eyes up against the spike in pain that it brings.
She blinks, shakes her head even as she's answering, “Yes.”
He leans back into the pillow beneath his head, smiles slowly, “Oh, that good, huh?”
*
She contemplates his question a little more completely, tries to integrate what she's always known with the information she'd been blind-sided by today.
Juvenile detention and more foster parents than she cares to imagine. The courage to leave it all behind. To make an escape of sorts.
To break the endless cycle.
“He's got friends here,” she offers. As though the notion might just be enough. “And he's a going to be an excellent surgeon.”
Aaron nods. Agrees. He's learned that much today at least.
*
The uneasy silence that had settled between them shifts suddenly, “What crap are you two talking about now?”
His voice is rough, heavy with sleep and something else. Cautious betrayal perhaps.
She gestures automatically in the direction of the patient charts he'd been completing, holds his gaze for a beat longer than necessary as he straightens up a little more fully. “The night staff has been looking for those,” she barks in lieu of a real answer.
And she thinks he's going to persist for a minute then. Demand the truth. She can almost see the moment he deflates. A tangible shift from defiant to defeated as he shrugs, sighs, reaches to his feet to gather up the charts scattered there.
“Fine.” She watches as he stares pointedly at Aaron. A thousand words exchanged. All of them nothing more than a different version of the same thing.
Keep your mouth shut, little brother...
*
They both watch him walk out. Exchange a glance behind his retreating back that speaks of guilt and more than just a little bit of relief.
“I'll be back to check on you when the day shift starts, organise to get you discharged.”
He nods, scrubs a hand across his face absently.
“Do you think you're going to stay for a while?” she continues. Can't help herself. “Here in Seattle?”
A shrug. Though Miranda expects he already knows the answer by heart.
“I need to get back,” gaze on his fingers. “Amber needs me.”
The implied Alex doesn't is received.
Loud and clear.
She wants to tell him it's not true, not even close, but she's not entirely sure she believes that herself. Reaches across him instead, collects a chart Alex had missed, “Get some sleep. I'll be back later.”
*
She's caught in the doorway when he calls.
“Dr. Bailey?”
She turns slowly, reluctantly, she thinks.
“Thank you. For...” he trails off again, bounces his fist against the mattress by his hip. “Just, thanks. For everything.”
She nods. Once.
Knows instinctively that he’s talking about much more than just the free surgery she’d performed.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters: Miranda Bailey and Aaron Karev
Word Count: 800
Rating: PG
Summary: For the ga_fanfic Character Study Challenge. Episode tag for 6.19, Sympathy for the Parents. Bailey and Aaron have a conversation of sorts.
She's just the other side of half way to the parking lot when the silence splitting bleat of her pager has her closing her eyes and counting to fifteen. Fumbling for the still vibrating device, she counteracts the mind numbing exhaustion with a deep inhale of midnight black air before turning on her heels and heading back in the direction she'd just emerged from.
By the time she's finished attending to an elderly patient requiring emergency treatment, night has well and truly fallen inside the long hospital corridors and hushed surgical wards. She contemplates heading home until a quick glance at the clock on the wall behind the nurses’ station indicates it to be a futile exercise.
Decides on an entirely different course of action.
*
She eases into the room under the half light spilling from the hallway, reaches for her patient's chart even as she takes in the sleeping form of a familiar face in the chair beside the bed. There are additional charts spread out on the table top, a couple stacked precariously on the ground by feet that twitch to a beat she can't hear.
Knows the nursing staff will be looking for them over the course of the evening but figures they can wait another half hour at least.
She hears stirring then, shifts her gaze back to the less familiar of the brothers, brings her finger up to her lips and tilts her chin a little to the left. Holds his attention long enough to make sure he understands her message.
*
She's easing his chart back into its place when he inhales, speaks.
“Is he okay?”
And she thinks for a moment that the question seems to come from the wrong mouth. Blames her sleep deprived synapses for the beat of confusion that clouds her answer.
“Excuse me?” Whispered.
“Alex. Do you think he's okay?” He shifts, screws his eyes up against the spike in pain that it brings.
She blinks, shakes her head even as she's answering, “Yes.”
He leans back into the pillow beneath his head, smiles slowly, “Oh, that good, huh?”
*
She contemplates his question a little more completely, tries to integrate what she's always known with the information she'd been blind-sided by today.
Juvenile detention and more foster parents than she cares to imagine. The courage to leave it all behind. To make an escape of sorts.
To break the endless cycle.
“He's got friends here,” she offers. As though the notion might just be enough. “And he's a going to be an excellent surgeon.”
Aaron nods. Agrees. He's learned that much today at least.
*
The uneasy silence that had settled between them shifts suddenly, “What crap are you two talking about now?”
His voice is rough, heavy with sleep and something else. Cautious betrayal perhaps.
She gestures automatically in the direction of the patient charts he'd been completing, holds his gaze for a beat longer than necessary as he straightens up a little more fully. “The night staff has been looking for those,” she barks in lieu of a real answer.
And she thinks he's going to persist for a minute then. Demand the truth. She can almost see the moment he deflates. A tangible shift from defiant to defeated as he shrugs, sighs, reaches to his feet to gather up the charts scattered there.
“Fine.” She watches as he stares pointedly at Aaron. A thousand words exchanged. All of them nothing more than a different version of the same thing.
Keep your mouth shut, little brother...
*
They both watch him walk out. Exchange a glance behind his retreating back that speaks of guilt and more than just a little bit of relief.
“I'll be back to check on you when the day shift starts, organise to get you discharged.”
He nods, scrubs a hand across his face absently.
“Do you think you're going to stay for a while?” she continues. Can't help herself. “Here in Seattle?”
A shrug. Though Miranda expects he already knows the answer by heart.
“I need to get back,” gaze on his fingers. “Amber needs me.”
The implied Alex doesn't is received.
Loud and clear.
She wants to tell him it's not true, not even close, but she's not entirely sure she believes that herself. Reaches across him instead, collects a chart Alex had missed, “Get some sleep. I'll be back later.”
*
She's caught in the doorway when he calls.
“Dr. Bailey?”
She turns slowly, reluctantly, she thinks.
“Thank you. For...” he trails off again, bounces his fist against the mattress by his hip. “Just, thanks. For everything.”
She nods. Once.
Knows instinctively that he’s talking about much more than just the free surgery she’d performed.