(no subject)
Title: Ready For A Fall (7/?)
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Pairing: Addison/Mark, Callie/George, Callie/Alex (friendship), George/Izzie (implied) Alex/Izzie (??)
Summary: Sometimes it hurts to fall, but if you're lucky someone may catch you. And they may be falling, too.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
*~*~* ~*~*~
Addison cleared her throat and tried her best to make the awkward situation bearable for George, whose face had fallen when Callie pushed him away. She watched as his mother put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but George didn’t step forward again. "Hey," she finally said, rubbing Callie’s arm. "Want us to take that tube out?"
Derek looked from George to Addison and moved a little closer. "It could be premature. We should monitor her for a little while longer. She was slow to respond."
Callie shook her head and pointed at the tube again. When Derek opened his mouth to speak, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him a little closer. Her word, though muffled, was unmistakable. "Now."
"No. No no no. Don’t try to talk," Addison told her and reached up, smoothing a strand of her friend’s hair back. Callie pushed her hand away and shook her head, reaching for the tube again.
"I’ll put the restraints on. Don’t make me," Derek said, stopping her. "I’m going to ask you a number question and I want you to show me with your fingers what the answer is. Okay?"
Callie rolled her eyes and nodded.
"What’s five minus four?"
Callie flipped him a bird.
"She’s fine," Alex said, laughing a little.
Callie nodded, put a finger on her nose, and pointed at Alex, who beamed at her and said, "I rock at Charades."
Derek looked at George again and said, "O’Malley, it's your call."
George’s gaze was still on Callie. She had not met his eyes once and it was killing him. He glanced at the monitor and saw that her oxygen was in the nineties and nodded. "Take it out."
"You may want to wait outside," Derek told Louise, who nodded and headed into the hallway.
It only took seconds to remove the tube, but it was still hard to watch. Callie was restrained by George and Alex and gagged and coughed as Derek pulled it free. He sat her up instantly, handing her a basin as she gripped it, spitting out the blood that collected in her mouth. Addison rubbed her back and said, "How do you feel?"
"Where’s my chart?" Callie rasped after a couple of seconds, barely audible. Her words were slow, drowsy sounding.
Alex handed her a tissue and said, "You probably shouldn’t be talking yet and -"
"Get it," she interrupted, taking the tissue and blotting her mouth.
Alex looked at Derek, who nodded, then retrieved the chart from the door. He held it out and watched as she opened it and flipped a few pages. "It’s not here," she finally croaked.
"What’s not there?" Derek asked her.
"DNR. I’m DNR." Callie closed the chart and stared at Shepherd, her eyes bloodshot and bleary. "A freakin’ breathing tube. What were you thinking? You’re not supposed to save me!"
"Cal, don’t." George reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. "You don’t mean that."
"Get out," she growled. More blood bubbled from her throat and she spit again. "Get out now, George."
"But!"
"GO!" she shouted and promptly burst into tears as she grabbed her throat.
"Yeah, that hurt like a bitch didn’t it?" Derek asked her. He cupped her chin and said, "Open. Let me see."
"I’m fine," she sobbed and grimaced when she tasted more blood in her mouth. "Get him away from me."
"George, man," Alex said. "Maybe you should do what she wants."
"No." George shook his head. "She is-" He stopped in mid-sentence and grabbed Callie’s face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "You are my wife. You are my wife and I love you and I’m not leaving this room. Do you hear me? Do you understand?"
She closed her eyes, tears falling faster now. "Let me go. George, let me go."
"I can’t! Don’t you see that? I can’t! I’ve never been able to let you go. Never!"
"Don’t."
Wordlessly, George pulled her against him and held onto her. He held on even though she struggled. He held on with both arms and refused to surrender. Whether it was sheer exhaustion that eventually stilled her protests or the fact that he was crying into the crook of her neck was unclear, but finally he felt her arms around him and no matter what else happened in that moment ... it was all that mattered.
They were still hanging onto each other, still crying, when Alex walked out of the room. He stalked down the hallway and into the intern’s locker room. Izzie’s shift would be ending soon and sure enough, she stood before her locker staring into it, but not moving.
"Where is it?" he asked her.
Izzie jumped a little, startled from her reverie, and looked at him. "What?"
"You took care of her chart. Where is it?"
She swallowed hard and shook her head. "I don’t know what you mean."
Alex crossed the room at once and pinned her back against the locker. He caught both of her hands in his and held them over her head and with his free hand, he patted her pockets. The paper rustled in the back pocket of her scrub pants and he pulled it out and opened it. He knew instinctively what it was, but he had to see it for himself. Callie’s signature was on the ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ paperwork that had been scanned into the computer five years before. It was part of the paperwork that every intern had to fill out, they had to make their wishes known. He looked up from the paper, wide eyed.
Izzie wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him. "Go ahead. Go turn me in."
"Why did you do this?"
"It was in her chart." The defiant look faded from her face and she blurted out, "I’ve been trying to make her go away for months and then she was really about to and ... I had to give her back to George. Okay? I had to give her back."
"Isobel Maria Stevens!" He grinned at her and ripped the paper down the middle. Her eyes widened and he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her into the air. "You are the most amazing human being alive."
He set her back on her feet and without thinking, kissed her. It was brief, almost chaste, and then he pulled away and gave her back the torn paper. "Shred it."
"What - you’re not going to tell?"
"Tell what? I didn’t see a thing."
"But-" She watched, dumbstruck as Alex headed for the door. "What-"
He held up a hand to stop her from continuing. "Welcome back, Iz. I missed the hell out of you."
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie pulled away from George and dried her eyes. She noticed that they were alone and wondered how much time had passed, wondered where Addison had gone. Finally, she met George’s gaze and her heart ached in ways that she hadn’t imagined possible. His eyes were bloodshot, swollen. His face was pale and wet with his tears and she reached up, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. He caught her hand and kissed it.
"Why?" he finally asked her. "Why did you do this?"
"George-"
"WHY?" he shouted, then hugged her again when she flinched. "I don’t - dammit, I don’t mean to yell at you. I just need to know if you did this on purpose."
She waited until he let her go, then shook her head, her eyes downcast.
"Callie, you almost died. It takes a lot of alcohol to kill someone and you were in a garage with the car running."
"No," she said, the pain in her throat making her grimace. "It just ... it was just .. I miscalculated."
"How?"
"I don’t know, but I did."
"Baby, please tell me the truth."
"Because you know what that is?"
"This isn’t about me right now."
"It never is." She shook her head. "Think what you want. I - I didn’t do anything."
George rubbed his eyes before looking at her. When he did, he said, "I don’t believe you. I’m sorry, but I don’t."
"It was an accident."
"How? You accidentally thought it was water?"
"I didn’t mean to. I just - I wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling. I didn’t think it would - I drank more than this when I went to North Carolina." She choked a little and swallowed again. "God, I’m never putting a tube in anyone again. Ever."
"Is that where you went? When you left me?"
She nodded and cleared her aching throat. George handed her the bottle of water that had been his and watched as she took a few sips. He waited for her to go on. Finally, she said, "It was me and a cabin and Jack Daniels. And I didn’t have to think about what you did for fifteen days. I just - I wanted to not remember for a while. Today - today was bad."
"Yesterday," George reminded her. "You were gone for a while, Callie," he reached out, taking her hand. "What happened yesterday? Was it me? Was it because we fought?"
"It was part of it." Callie bit her lip as she watched his eyes brim with fresh tears. "I talked to my brother. He - he told me about the party and said that Daddy talked to you. And I told him what you did to me and he still said we should have the party anyway and I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to do it and I wanted to sleep and not think or hurt or feel. I just wanted to sleep for a while, George. That’s all." Her throat ached too much to go on.
George wanted to reply, but his mother knocked and stuck her head in. "Hi," she said, smiling brightly.
Callie looked at George, clearly agitated. "Louise," she croaked, her voice practically gone. "You didn’t have to come."
"Well, that’s nonsense if I’ve ever heard nonsense." Louise closed the door behind her and walked to the bed. From behind her back she pulled a stuffed bear that said ‘Get Well’ and held it out to Callie. "I couldn’t watch them take out the tube and I couldn’t stand to eavesdrop so I went shopping."
Callie took the bear, muttered her thanks, and then Louise engulfed her in a tight embrace, pushing George out of the way. He took a step back and watched as his mother fussed over Callie, making her lie down, insisting that he get a wet cloth to clean her face. Any protest Callie attempted was quickly shot down and within minutes, Callie was tucked into the bed and Louise was gently dabbing the dried blood away.
"Go get her some fresh water, George. With ice. Lots of ice. That’ll help the sore throat." She practically shoved him out of the room and turned back to Callie, who was now watching her with a wary expression on her face. Louise went back to the bed and took a deep breath. "Are you sober?"
"I’m thinking ‘unfortunately’ is probably the best word to answer that."
"He told me what happened with Dr. Stevens."
Callie pursed her lips together and looked away. Louise continued, undaunted, "And you’ve made him pay. You broke him last night. You destroyed him. You’re even. I know this hurts like hell, honey, I’ve been there, but-"
Stunned, Callie looked up at her. "What?"
"Harold was a good man, a decent man, and I loved him very much. But we got married young and I think he resented me in the beginning. He still wanted to go and drink with his friends and I didn’t know how to stop it so I stayed home and tried to be a good wife. Then he told me that he had been unfaithful and I was devastated. I was pregnant with George at the time and I left. I went home to my mother and I cried so much that it hurt all over. So I know. I know.
"Harold finally broke, Callie, the way that George did last night. And I never once regretted our life together after that."
"She’s in love with him."
"Dr. Stevens assured me months ago that she didn’t have any feelings whatsoever for George. She was very convincing," Louise dismissed. "And she was drunk. They both were."
"That doesn’t make any difference."
"Really?" Louise raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that you were in complete control of yourself last night when you almost killed yourself with alcohol? I bet that you didn’t know what you were doing after a while. You don’t even remember most of it. Do you?"
Callie shook her head and she knew that doing so was conceding defeat.
Louise softened a little and took her hand. "I’m not making excuses for him. What he did was wrong and he knows that. He’s horrified that it happened and he loves you. He really loves you. He’s feeling worse than you, I’d wager."
"I don’t care how he feels."
"You really aren’t a good actress." Louise sat down on the bed, still holding Callie’s hand. "I’ve been talking to your mother a lot."
"Oh my god."
"She’s a character."
"She’s crazy."
"She told me that you clearly love my son enough to risk dying for him because you knew that she would kill you for eloping. Now *she* is a good actress. I almost drove to your place just to make sure you were still alive and well." When Callie didn’t smile, Louise said, "Honey, look at me."
Callie exhaled and finally met her eyes again. "Please tell me that you didn’t call my mother and tell her what happened."
"Your parents are on their way. I told them just enough to get them here. It’s up to you to decide what to say to them once they arrive."
"It’s not gonna work! Whatever you think you’re doing with my mom. You can’t fix this, Louise."
"I know my son. I won’t have to fix it. He will."
George came into the room cautiously, carrying a pitcher of water and ice chips. He looked from one to the other and when neither spoke, he filled a Styrofoam cup full of water, put a straw in it, and held it out to Callie. When she took it, her hands were shaking, and he frowned and covered them with his own. "Are you cold?" he asked, as she took a couple of small sips.
When Callie nodded, Louise said, "I’ll go round up a blanket."
"I’m sorry," he said, when his mother was out of earshot. "I needed her here. I was going crazy and I called her. Whatever she said to you --- I’m sorry."
"Fight your own battles, George." She lost her own battle with tears and it made her throat ache even worse. "That was really low."
"I didn’t tell her to say anything. Give me just a little bit of credit and -"
"The last time I gave you credit you cheated on me. Remember? You said ‘Can’t you give me a little credit that maybe I’m on your side’ and then-"
"And then you threw me out! And I was pissed off! You threw me for the loop with the money thing and you crawled my ass for being thrown."
Her next words were muffled with a sob. "You called me *curvy*."
"You *are* curvy. The first night we slept together, in the freakin’ basement, I told you that you should wear a warning sign that said ‘dangerous curves ahead’. Your body is mind-blowing. I -"
"Shut up."
"We made up after that fight. It’s done. It’s over. Let it go! You apologized to me and I apologized to you and-"
"You left out the part where you slept with her!"
George dug his fingers into her thighs to keep from shaking her. "I made a mistake. I made a horrible, awful mistake. When have I paid enough? When? What do I have to do? Do you want to move away from here? Do you - do you want to start fresh somewhere else? I’ll go. I’ll never speak to her again. What else do you want from me?"
"You can’t undo it. That’s what I want from you and you can’t undo it!"
"But I can prove to you that I love you and I will."
Saying nothing, she rolled away from him and pulled the cover up over her shoulder. Louise could bring a thousand blankets and never chase the chill away. Callie was frozen, inside and out, and as she closed her eyes she wanted nothing more than the world to end. And take her with it.
But on the plus side, her mother would probably make sure it did.
*~*~*~*~*~
Raphael and Melana Torres arrived via helicopter, landing atop Seattle Grace with all the pomp and circumstance of royalty. The pilot had called ahead and George, who had left Callie sleeping in her room, trudged to the roof to collect them with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had not slept, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t showered or changed his clothes, but he really wasn’t concerned about first impressions at the moment. He also didn’t know if Callie’s brother had told what he had done. As soon as he opened the door to the rooftop, the helicopter was leaving and he stared, wide eyed, as Mr. Torres escorted his wife across the helipad.
Melana Torres was an older version of Callie. Her body was shaped like an hourglass and she wore a clinging black dress that accentuated her waist and hips. The dress scooped at the neck, displaying a cascading necklace of diamonds that disappeared into her ample cleavage. She was tall, taller than her husband, and as she approached, George realized that the extremely high heels she wore were the likely cause. As the woman drew nearer, George could see that her hair, jet black and curly, was slightly shorter than Callie’s, but styled similarly. She was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking.
And she clearly knew it.
A few feet from George, she lowered her round, dark sunglasses and adjusted the insanely large Louis Vuitton bag over her shoulder. George stood a little straighter as she appraised him and held out his hand to Callie’s father "Hello, Mr. Torres," he said, then turned to Callie’s mother. "It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Torres. You look so much like Callie."
"How is my daughter?" Melana took his hand in hers and firmly clasped it. "Your mother was rather vague."
"She’s okay. She’s sleeping now." George indicated the bag on her arm. "Would you like me to carry your bag?"
"No, he wouldn’t like that," she replied. "Strangers can be unsettling."
George balked a little. "Excuse me?"
"Could you please explain to us exactly what happened?" Melana indicated the door behind George. "And could you please escort us into the building? This wind is unbearable and Gucci hates to travel."
"Uh, okay. Sorry." George opened the door and waited for them to enter. He watched as Melana took off her sunglasses and stowed them in a case, which she dropped into the side of the large bag. Mr. Torres cleared his throat and George said, "Do you want to see her now? I mean - I’m sure you do. That was a stupid question. It’s just - long night. You know?"
"Let me see your eyes." Melana beckoned him forward and pressed his cheeks with her palms. She stared at him for a long span, then nodded. "Kind eyes. He’s not at all the vulture you described, Raph. He’ll do."
"Melana," Raphael warned, then turned to George. "I demand to know what happened. Your mother indicated that she had food poisoning?" Raphael tilted his head a little. "I assume it was something you cooked."
"No. No, sir, I mean. It wasn’t food poisoning. My mother was probably trying not to scare you." He glanced back and forth between them both. "Callie, uh, she drank a little ... too much and, uh, had an adverse reaction to it. They pumped her stomach and - well, we’re still waiting to make sure that her liver enzymes stabilize and that her body is strong enough to, er, bounce back without any serious side effects."
"My daughter doesn’t drink," Raphael snapped. "She hates the taste of alcohol."
"Yes, and she’s also a virgin saint who flitters about her day with angel’s wings." Melana glanced at her husband and rolled her eyes, her expression so much like Callie’s that it was unnerving. "Perhaps, Raphael, you should consider taking off your rose colored glasses before we see the damage for ourselves." To George, she added, "My husband feels that his daughter can do no wrong. This will be your fault somehow so brace yourself."
George had no idea how to respond, so he indicated the elevator behind them. "She’s on the fifth floor. Uhm, Dr. Shepherd, he was the attending on duty last night, has gone home for the day, but Chief Webber has taken over Callie’s case and they’re really pulling out all the stops. You know, she’s one of us."
"Not quite," Raphael replied, looking him up and down. "You are still an intern. A poor, first year intern. And my daughter-"
"Oh for Heaven’s sake," Melana exclaimed, her attention still on George. "No one is good enough for her. Ever. He would find fault with Jesus if she brought him home. She brought home a wonderful boy from Mexico who Raphael said was too low class. She brought home a handsome young man from her university and Raphael said that he had no table manners and his mother was that famous woman who teaches etiquette. Calliope brought home musicians and-"
"Musicians are *scum*!" Raphael told her. "I was not going to stand by and watch our only daughter, the very same one who aced her SAT’s, get involved in that business."
Melana ignored him and continued to talk to George, who hit the elevator button as he listened. "Have you heard her sing yet? I wanted her to sing at Carnegie Hall one day. I wanted her to act on Broadway in ‘Evita’. She was so good, always cast as the lead in the plays during her summer breaks, and then she graduated high school, an agent wanted to sign her, and Raphael says no. He says she has to go to medical school and then she chose her specialty simply because it’s where all the cute boys were. Honestly, breaking bones? She’s a *girl*."
"Mel," Raphael said. "Can we please not?"
"I gave you two sons. You could have let me have my little girl."
"I thought Callie had three brothers," George said.
"Tell him what happened to your other son, Mel." Raphael waited, looking at her innocently.
She said something in Greek and hit the button to the elevator again. "If we had been brought here because we were injured we would now be dead. Why is this elevator so slow?"
"My wife has very old fashioned beliefs." Raphael regarded her for a moment, then told George, "Cambyses is gay. This is a fact that Melana cannot overcome so she refuses to acknowledge his ‘difference’."
"He’ll grow out of it. It’s just a phase."
"A phase that he’s had since he was fifteen?" Raphael asked.
Melana waved a hand and said, "If *your* daughter can stop dressing like a gangster then Cam can beat this affliction as well."
The elevator finally opened and George indicated that they should enter first. It was thankfully empty. He saw that Melana was still regarding him and he squirmed a little and said, "I didn’t know that Callie could sing."
"Well, have you seen her pitch a tantrum yet?" Melana asked. "Her singing is just as impressive."
George smiled. "Now that, I have firsthand knowledge of."
"I’m sure you deserve whatever she dishes out," Raphael told him. "How much alcohol are they alleging she drank?"
"She was unconscious when she was brought in," George admitted.
"What!?" Raphael roared. "Ay dios mio! How? How did this happen? You did this! You!"
"Told you," Melana said to George, then looped her arm through his. Her face was strained now and her worry for her daughter was evident. She valiantly patted George’s hand. "Ignore him. He’s gruff as a bear, but stings as hard as a butterfly."
The doors opened and George indicated that they had arrived. He led them down the hallway and paused outside Callie’s door. It took everything that he had inside to say what came next. "Look, I’d rather you hear this from me than anyone else. This is being treated as a -"
Chief Webber emerged from Callie’s room and almost ran into Raphael. He glanced up from her chart, started to apologize, and then saw Melana. "My god," he said. "If I hadn’t just been in to see Callie I’d think that she was wandering the halls. I’m Chief Webber."
George made the introductions and said, "I was just about to explain Callie’s situation when you came out. Maybe you should - you know, be unbiased, Chief Webber."
Webber looked at George, who had been unable to hide the desperation his voice. "There are privacy issues, Dr. O’Malley."
"No, there’s not." George pointed at Callie’s chart. "She signed off on a medical waiver when she first started. She lists them as medical contacts and agreed to full disclosure."
"We are her parents." Melana looked back and forth between the two men. "This is our child. Please- is she okay?"
Webber indicated an empty conference room across the hall and said, "Please have a seat and we’ll be right in."
Callie’s parents hurried into the room and Webber closed the door, leaving himself and George in the hallway. "Do they know what transpired between you and Dr. Stevens?"
"I’d be in the ER in they did." George ran a hand through his hair. "And how do you know?"
"It’s my business to know. I’m not judging you, I can’t, but they’re going to eventually want answers that I will *not* give them."
"I know." George nodded. "I - I should probably go check on Callie."
"Dr. Karev is with her. And you’re coming with me."
George looked back at Callie’s door and shoved his fists in his pockets. Anger, hot and fiery, raced through him. Alex Karev had found her. Alex Karev had moved into George’s territory and Callie was doing nothing to stop it. He refused to imagine what was taking place in Callie’s room. A tearful reunion? A kiss? "Fine. Let’s get it done."
Melana and Raphael’s joined hands were on the table and Raph stood a little when the doctors came in. Chief Webber nodded at him and took a seat directly across from him. George sat across from Melana and nervously twisted the silver wedding band on his finger. No one spoke for a moment and Chief Webber laid the chart on the table, opening it. He rifled through a couple of pages and said, "Callie was unresponsive when she was brought in. Bloodwork confirmed that she had a potentially fatal amount of alcohol in her system. Because of her breathing, she was put on a respirator and -"
"Is she breathing now? On her own?" Raphael asked.
"Yes." Chief Webber replied. "We took the tube out this morning, but that’s not the most worrying aspect. We’re treating this as a suicide attempt. We have every reason to believe that your daughter purposely tried to end her life last night. Now, she says that she didn’t and-"
"Then she didn’t," Raphael stated calmly. "I want to see her."
"Let him finish, Raph." Melana looked crestfallen, crushed. "George, what do you think?"
Her face was a mirror of Callie’s face the day she had learned the truth and her dark eyes, while creased on the edges where Callie’s were smooth, were imploring him. He looked away quickly, unable to stand the reminder. "I - I don’t believe her. I think she wanted to die."
"And why is that?" Raphael demanded. "What the hell did you do to her, you little bastard? What?"
George took a deep breath. "There are circumstances that you’re not aware of and it’s - it’s up to her to decide what she wants to share."
Raphael’s eyes narrowed. "You don’t believe her yet you hide information for her? You want us to think that she’s the guilty one. I see what you’re doing. You want us to believe that she’s weak and I know my daughter. I know her. She would never do this. Never."
"Please, Raphael." Melana dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Dr. Webber? Is - is my child okay?"
George stared at the wall and spoke no more.
He didn’t need to.
The Chief was in charge and someone had to be.
*~*~*~*~*~
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Pairing: Addison/Mark, Callie/George, Callie/Alex (friendship), George/Izzie (implied) Alex/Izzie (??)
Summary: Sometimes it hurts to fall, but if you're lucky someone may catch you. And they may be falling, too.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
*~*~* ~*~*~
Addison cleared her throat and tried her best to make the awkward situation bearable for George, whose face had fallen when Callie pushed him away. She watched as his mother put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but George didn’t step forward again. "Hey," she finally said, rubbing Callie’s arm. "Want us to take that tube out?"
Derek looked from George to Addison and moved a little closer. "It could be premature. We should monitor her for a little while longer. She was slow to respond."
Callie shook her head and pointed at the tube again. When Derek opened his mouth to speak, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him a little closer. Her word, though muffled, was unmistakable. "Now."
"No. No no no. Don’t try to talk," Addison told her and reached up, smoothing a strand of her friend’s hair back. Callie pushed her hand away and shook her head, reaching for the tube again.
"I’ll put the restraints on. Don’t make me," Derek said, stopping her. "I’m going to ask you a number question and I want you to show me with your fingers what the answer is. Okay?"
Callie rolled her eyes and nodded.
"What’s five minus four?"
Callie flipped him a bird.
"She’s fine," Alex said, laughing a little.
Callie nodded, put a finger on her nose, and pointed at Alex, who beamed at her and said, "I rock at Charades."
Derek looked at George again and said, "O’Malley, it's your call."
George’s gaze was still on Callie. She had not met his eyes once and it was killing him. He glanced at the monitor and saw that her oxygen was in the nineties and nodded. "Take it out."
"You may want to wait outside," Derek told Louise, who nodded and headed into the hallway.
It only took seconds to remove the tube, but it was still hard to watch. Callie was restrained by George and Alex and gagged and coughed as Derek pulled it free. He sat her up instantly, handing her a basin as she gripped it, spitting out the blood that collected in her mouth. Addison rubbed her back and said, "How do you feel?"
"Where’s my chart?" Callie rasped after a couple of seconds, barely audible. Her words were slow, drowsy sounding.
Alex handed her a tissue and said, "You probably shouldn’t be talking yet and -"
"Get it," she interrupted, taking the tissue and blotting her mouth.
Alex looked at Derek, who nodded, then retrieved the chart from the door. He held it out and watched as she opened it and flipped a few pages. "It’s not here," she finally croaked.
"What’s not there?" Derek asked her.
"DNR. I’m DNR." Callie closed the chart and stared at Shepherd, her eyes bloodshot and bleary. "A freakin’ breathing tube. What were you thinking? You’re not supposed to save me!"
"Cal, don’t." George reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. "You don’t mean that."
"Get out," she growled. More blood bubbled from her throat and she spit again. "Get out now, George."
"But!"
"GO!" she shouted and promptly burst into tears as she grabbed her throat.
"Yeah, that hurt like a bitch didn’t it?" Derek asked her. He cupped her chin and said, "Open. Let me see."
"I’m fine," she sobbed and grimaced when she tasted more blood in her mouth. "Get him away from me."
"George, man," Alex said. "Maybe you should do what she wants."
"No." George shook his head. "She is-" He stopped in mid-sentence and grabbed Callie’s face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "You are my wife. You are my wife and I love you and I’m not leaving this room. Do you hear me? Do you understand?"
She closed her eyes, tears falling faster now. "Let me go. George, let me go."
"I can’t! Don’t you see that? I can’t! I’ve never been able to let you go. Never!"
"Don’t."
Wordlessly, George pulled her against him and held onto her. He held on even though she struggled. He held on with both arms and refused to surrender. Whether it was sheer exhaustion that eventually stilled her protests or the fact that he was crying into the crook of her neck was unclear, but finally he felt her arms around him and no matter what else happened in that moment ... it was all that mattered.
They were still hanging onto each other, still crying, when Alex walked out of the room. He stalked down the hallway and into the intern’s locker room. Izzie’s shift would be ending soon and sure enough, she stood before her locker staring into it, but not moving.
"Where is it?" he asked her.
Izzie jumped a little, startled from her reverie, and looked at him. "What?"
"You took care of her chart. Where is it?"
She swallowed hard and shook her head. "I don’t know what you mean."
Alex crossed the room at once and pinned her back against the locker. He caught both of her hands in his and held them over her head and with his free hand, he patted her pockets. The paper rustled in the back pocket of her scrub pants and he pulled it out and opened it. He knew instinctively what it was, but he had to see it for himself. Callie’s signature was on the ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ paperwork that had been scanned into the computer five years before. It was part of the paperwork that every intern had to fill out, they had to make their wishes known. He looked up from the paper, wide eyed.
Izzie wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him. "Go ahead. Go turn me in."
"Why did you do this?"
"It was in her chart." The defiant look faded from her face and she blurted out, "I’ve been trying to make her go away for months and then she was really about to and ... I had to give her back to George. Okay? I had to give her back."
"Isobel Maria Stevens!" He grinned at her and ripped the paper down the middle. Her eyes widened and he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her into the air. "You are the most amazing human being alive."
He set her back on her feet and without thinking, kissed her. It was brief, almost chaste, and then he pulled away and gave her back the torn paper. "Shred it."
"What - you’re not going to tell?"
"Tell what? I didn’t see a thing."
"But-" She watched, dumbstruck as Alex headed for the door. "What-"
He held up a hand to stop her from continuing. "Welcome back, Iz. I missed the hell out of you."
*~*~*~*~*~
Callie pulled away from George and dried her eyes. She noticed that they were alone and wondered how much time had passed, wondered where Addison had gone. Finally, she met George’s gaze and her heart ached in ways that she hadn’t imagined possible. His eyes were bloodshot, swollen. His face was pale and wet with his tears and she reached up, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. He caught her hand and kissed it.
"Why?" he finally asked her. "Why did you do this?"
"George-"
"WHY?" he shouted, then hugged her again when she flinched. "I don’t - dammit, I don’t mean to yell at you. I just need to know if you did this on purpose."
She waited until he let her go, then shook her head, her eyes downcast.
"Callie, you almost died. It takes a lot of alcohol to kill someone and you were in a garage with the car running."
"No," she said, the pain in her throat making her grimace. "It just ... it was just .. I miscalculated."
"How?"
"I don’t know, but I did."
"Baby, please tell me the truth."
"Because you know what that is?"
"This isn’t about me right now."
"It never is." She shook her head. "Think what you want. I - I didn’t do anything."
George rubbed his eyes before looking at her. When he did, he said, "I don’t believe you. I’m sorry, but I don’t."
"It was an accident."
"How? You accidentally thought it was water?"
"I didn’t mean to. I just - I wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling. I didn’t think it would - I drank more than this when I went to North Carolina." She choked a little and swallowed again. "God, I’m never putting a tube in anyone again. Ever."
"Is that where you went? When you left me?"
She nodded and cleared her aching throat. George handed her the bottle of water that had been his and watched as she took a few sips. He waited for her to go on. Finally, she said, "It was me and a cabin and Jack Daniels. And I didn’t have to think about what you did for fifteen days. I just - I wanted to not remember for a while. Today - today was bad."
"Yesterday," George reminded her. "You were gone for a while, Callie," he reached out, taking her hand. "What happened yesterday? Was it me? Was it because we fought?"
"It was part of it." Callie bit her lip as she watched his eyes brim with fresh tears. "I talked to my brother. He - he told me about the party and said that Daddy talked to you. And I told him what you did to me and he still said we should have the party anyway and I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to do it and I wanted to sleep and not think or hurt or feel. I just wanted to sleep for a while, George. That’s all." Her throat ached too much to go on.
George wanted to reply, but his mother knocked and stuck her head in. "Hi," she said, smiling brightly.
Callie looked at George, clearly agitated. "Louise," she croaked, her voice practically gone. "You didn’t have to come."
"Well, that’s nonsense if I’ve ever heard nonsense." Louise closed the door behind her and walked to the bed. From behind her back she pulled a stuffed bear that said ‘Get Well’ and held it out to Callie. "I couldn’t watch them take out the tube and I couldn’t stand to eavesdrop so I went shopping."
Callie took the bear, muttered her thanks, and then Louise engulfed her in a tight embrace, pushing George out of the way. He took a step back and watched as his mother fussed over Callie, making her lie down, insisting that he get a wet cloth to clean her face. Any protest Callie attempted was quickly shot down and within minutes, Callie was tucked into the bed and Louise was gently dabbing the dried blood away.
"Go get her some fresh water, George. With ice. Lots of ice. That’ll help the sore throat." She practically shoved him out of the room and turned back to Callie, who was now watching her with a wary expression on her face. Louise went back to the bed and took a deep breath. "Are you sober?"
"I’m thinking ‘unfortunately’ is probably the best word to answer that."
"He told me what happened with Dr. Stevens."
Callie pursed her lips together and looked away. Louise continued, undaunted, "And you’ve made him pay. You broke him last night. You destroyed him. You’re even. I know this hurts like hell, honey, I’ve been there, but-"
Stunned, Callie looked up at her. "What?"
"Harold was a good man, a decent man, and I loved him very much. But we got married young and I think he resented me in the beginning. He still wanted to go and drink with his friends and I didn’t know how to stop it so I stayed home and tried to be a good wife. Then he told me that he had been unfaithful and I was devastated. I was pregnant with George at the time and I left. I went home to my mother and I cried so much that it hurt all over. So I know. I know.
"Harold finally broke, Callie, the way that George did last night. And I never once regretted our life together after that."
"She’s in love with him."
"Dr. Stevens assured me months ago that she didn’t have any feelings whatsoever for George. She was very convincing," Louise dismissed. "And she was drunk. They both were."
"That doesn’t make any difference."
"Really?" Louise raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that you were in complete control of yourself last night when you almost killed yourself with alcohol? I bet that you didn’t know what you were doing after a while. You don’t even remember most of it. Do you?"
Callie shook her head and she knew that doing so was conceding defeat.
Louise softened a little and took her hand. "I’m not making excuses for him. What he did was wrong and he knows that. He’s horrified that it happened and he loves you. He really loves you. He’s feeling worse than you, I’d wager."
"I don’t care how he feels."
"You really aren’t a good actress." Louise sat down on the bed, still holding Callie’s hand. "I’ve been talking to your mother a lot."
"Oh my god."
"She’s a character."
"She’s crazy."
"She told me that you clearly love my son enough to risk dying for him because you knew that she would kill you for eloping. Now *she* is a good actress. I almost drove to your place just to make sure you were still alive and well." When Callie didn’t smile, Louise said, "Honey, look at me."
Callie exhaled and finally met her eyes again. "Please tell me that you didn’t call my mother and tell her what happened."
"Your parents are on their way. I told them just enough to get them here. It’s up to you to decide what to say to them once they arrive."
"It’s not gonna work! Whatever you think you’re doing with my mom. You can’t fix this, Louise."
"I know my son. I won’t have to fix it. He will."
George came into the room cautiously, carrying a pitcher of water and ice chips. He looked from one to the other and when neither spoke, he filled a Styrofoam cup full of water, put a straw in it, and held it out to Callie. When she took it, her hands were shaking, and he frowned and covered them with his own. "Are you cold?" he asked, as she took a couple of small sips.
When Callie nodded, Louise said, "I’ll go round up a blanket."
"I’m sorry," he said, when his mother was out of earshot. "I needed her here. I was going crazy and I called her. Whatever she said to you --- I’m sorry."
"Fight your own battles, George." She lost her own battle with tears and it made her throat ache even worse. "That was really low."
"I didn’t tell her to say anything. Give me just a little bit of credit and -"
"The last time I gave you credit you cheated on me. Remember? You said ‘Can’t you give me a little credit that maybe I’m on your side’ and then-"
"And then you threw me out! And I was pissed off! You threw me for the loop with the money thing and you crawled my ass for being thrown."
Her next words were muffled with a sob. "You called me *curvy*."
"You *are* curvy. The first night we slept together, in the freakin’ basement, I told you that you should wear a warning sign that said ‘dangerous curves ahead’. Your body is mind-blowing. I -"
"Shut up."
"We made up after that fight. It’s done. It’s over. Let it go! You apologized to me and I apologized to you and-"
"You left out the part where you slept with her!"
George dug his fingers into her thighs to keep from shaking her. "I made a mistake. I made a horrible, awful mistake. When have I paid enough? When? What do I have to do? Do you want to move away from here? Do you - do you want to start fresh somewhere else? I’ll go. I’ll never speak to her again. What else do you want from me?"
"You can’t undo it. That’s what I want from you and you can’t undo it!"
"But I can prove to you that I love you and I will."
Saying nothing, she rolled away from him and pulled the cover up over her shoulder. Louise could bring a thousand blankets and never chase the chill away. Callie was frozen, inside and out, and as she closed her eyes she wanted nothing more than the world to end. And take her with it.
But on the plus side, her mother would probably make sure it did.
*~*~*~*~*~
Raphael and Melana Torres arrived via helicopter, landing atop Seattle Grace with all the pomp and circumstance of royalty. The pilot had called ahead and George, who had left Callie sleeping in her room, trudged to the roof to collect them with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had not slept, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t showered or changed his clothes, but he really wasn’t concerned about first impressions at the moment. He also didn’t know if Callie’s brother had told what he had done. As soon as he opened the door to the rooftop, the helicopter was leaving and he stared, wide eyed, as Mr. Torres escorted his wife across the helipad.
Melana Torres was an older version of Callie. Her body was shaped like an hourglass and she wore a clinging black dress that accentuated her waist and hips. The dress scooped at the neck, displaying a cascading necklace of diamonds that disappeared into her ample cleavage. She was tall, taller than her husband, and as she approached, George realized that the extremely high heels she wore were the likely cause. As the woman drew nearer, George could see that her hair, jet black and curly, was slightly shorter than Callie’s, but styled similarly. She was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking.
And she clearly knew it.
A few feet from George, she lowered her round, dark sunglasses and adjusted the insanely large Louis Vuitton bag over her shoulder. George stood a little straighter as she appraised him and held out his hand to Callie’s father "Hello, Mr. Torres," he said, then turned to Callie’s mother. "It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Torres. You look so much like Callie."
"How is my daughter?" Melana took his hand in hers and firmly clasped it. "Your mother was rather vague."
"She’s okay. She’s sleeping now." George indicated the bag on her arm. "Would you like me to carry your bag?"
"No, he wouldn’t like that," she replied. "Strangers can be unsettling."
George balked a little. "Excuse me?"
"Could you please explain to us exactly what happened?" Melana indicated the door behind George. "And could you please escort us into the building? This wind is unbearable and Gucci hates to travel."
"Uh, okay. Sorry." George opened the door and waited for them to enter. He watched as Melana took off her sunglasses and stowed them in a case, which she dropped into the side of the large bag. Mr. Torres cleared his throat and George said, "Do you want to see her now? I mean - I’m sure you do. That was a stupid question. It’s just - long night. You know?"
"Let me see your eyes." Melana beckoned him forward and pressed his cheeks with her palms. She stared at him for a long span, then nodded. "Kind eyes. He’s not at all the vulture you described, Raph. He’ll do."
"Melana," Raphael warned, then turned to George. "I demand to know what happened. Your mother indicated that she had food poisoning?" Raphael tilted his head a little. "I assume it was something you cooked."
"No. No, sir, I mean. It wasn’t food poisoning. My mother was probably trying not to scare you." He glanced back and forth between them both. "Callie, uh, she drank a little ... too much and, uh, had an adverse reaction to it. They pumped her stomach and - well, we’re still waiting to make sure that her liver enzymes stabilize and that her body is strong enough to, er, bounce back without any serious side effects."
"My daughter doesn’t drink," Raphael snapped. "She hates the taste of alcohol."
"Yes, and she’s also a virgin saint who flitters about her day with angel’s wings." Melana glanced at her husband and rolled her eyes, her expression so much like Callie’s that it was unnerving. "Perhaps, Raphael, you should consider taking off your rose colored glasses before we see the damage for ourselves." To George, she added, "My husband feels that his daughter can do no wrong. This will be your fault somehow so brace yourself."
George had no idea how to respond, so he indicated the elevator behind them. "She’s on the fifth floor. Uhm, Dr. Shepherd, he was the attending on duty last night, has gone home for the day, but Chief Webber has taken over Callie’s case and they’re really pulling out all the stops. You know, she’s one of us."
"Not quite," Raphael replied, looking him up and down. "You are still an intern. A poor, first year intern. And my daughter-"
"Oh for Heaven’s sake," Melana exclaimed, her attention still on George. "No one is good enough for her. Ever. He would find fault with Jesus if she brought him home. She brought home a wonderful boy from Mexico who Raphael said was too low class. She brought home a handsome young man from her university and Raphael said that he had no table manners and his mother was that famous woman who teaches etiquette. Calliope brought home musicians and-"
"Musicians are *scum*!" Raphael told her. "I was not going to stand by and watch our only daughter, the very same one who aced her SAT’s, get involved in that business."
Melana ignored him and continued to talk to George, who hit the elevator button as he listened. "Have you heard her sing yet? I wanted her to sing at Carnegie Hall one day. I wanted her to act on Broadway in ‘Evita’. She was so good, always cast as the lead in the plays during her summer breaks, and then she graduated high school, an agent wanted to sign her, and Raphael says no. He says she has to go to medical school and then she chose her specialty simply because it’s where all the cute boys were. Honestly, breaking bones? She’s a *girl*."
"Mel," Raphael said. "Can we please not?"
"I gave you two sons. You could have let me have my little girl."
"I thought Callie had three brothers," George said.
"Tell him what happened to your other son, Mel." Raphael waited, looking at her innocently.
She said something in Greek and hit the button to the elevator again. "If we had been brought here because we were injured we would now be dead. Why is this elevator so slow?"
"My wife has very old fashioned beliefs." Raphael regarded her for a moment, then told George, "Cambyses is gay. This is a fact that Melana cannot overcome so she refuses to acknowledge his ‘difference’."
"He’ll grow out of it. It’s just a phase."
"A phase that he’s had since he was fifteen?" Raphael asked.
Melana waved a hand and said, "If *your* daughter can stop dressing like a gangster then Cam can beat this affliction as well."
The elevator finally opened and George indicated that they should enter first. It was thankfully empty. He saw that Melana was still regarding him and he squirmed a little and said, "I didn’t know that Callie could sing."
"Well, have you seen her pitch a tantrum yet?" Melana asked. "Her singing is just as impressive."
George smiled. "Now that, I have firsthand knowledge of."
"I’m sure you deserve whatever she dishes out," Raphael told him. "How much alcohol are they alleging she drank?"
"She was unconscious when she was brought in," George admitted.
"What!?" Raphael roared. "Ay dios mio! How? How did this happen? You did this! You!"
"Told you," Melana said to George, then looped her arm through his. Her face was strained now and her worry for her daughter was evident. She valiantly patted George’s hand. "Ignore him. He’s gruff as a bear, but stings as hard as a butterfly."
The doors opened and George indicated that they had arrived. He led them down the hallway and paused outside Callie’s door. It took everything that he had inside to say what came next. "Look, I’d rather you hear this from me than anyone else. This is being treated as a -"
Chief Webber emerged from Callie’s room and almost ran into Raphael. He glanced up from her chart, started to apologize, and then saw Melana. "My god," he said. "If I hadn’t just been in to see Callie I’d think that she was wandering the halls. I’m Chief Webber."
George made the introductions and said, "I was just about to explain Callie’s situation when you came out. Maybe you should - you know, be unbiased, Chief Webber."
Webber looked at George, who had been unable to hide the desperation his voice. "There are privacy issues, Dr. O’Malley."
"No, there’s not." George pointed at Callie’s chart. "She signed off on a medical waiver when she first started. She lists them as medical contacts and agreed to full disclosure."
"We are her parents." Melana looked back and forth between the two men. "This is our child. Please- is she okay?"
Webber indicated an empty conference room across the hall and said, "Please have a seat and we’ll be right in."
Callie’s parents hurried into the room and Webber closed the door, leaving himself and George in the hallway. "Do they know what transpired between you and Dr. Stevens?"
"I’d be in the ER in they did." George ran a hand through his hair. "And how do you know?"
"It’s my business to know. I’m not judging you, I can’t, but they’re going to eventually want answers that I will *not* give them."
"I know." George nodded. "I - I should probably go check on Callie."
"Dr. Karev is with her. And you’re coming with me."
George looked back at Callie’s door and shoved his fists in his pockets. Anger, hot and fiery, raced through him. Alex Karev had found her. Alex Karev had moved into George’s territory and Callie was doing nothing to stop it. He refused to imagine what was taking place in Callie’s room. A tearful reunion? A kiss? "Fine. Let’s get it done."
Melana and Raphael’s joined hands were on the table and Raph stood a little when the doctors came in. Chief Webber nodded at him and took a seat directly across from him. George sat across from Melana and nervously twisted the silver wedding band on his finger. No one spoke for a moment and Chief Webber laid the chart on the table, opening it. He rifled through a couple of pages and said, "Callie was unresponsive when she was brought in. Bloodwork confirmed that she had a potentially fatal amount of alcohol in her system. Because of her breathing, she was put on a respirator and -"
"Is she breathing now? On her own?" Raphael asked.
"Yes." Chief Webber replied. "We took the tube out this morning, but that’s not the most worrying aspect. We’re treating this as a suicide attempt. We have every reason to believe that your daughter purposely tried to end her life last night. Now, she says that she didn’t and-"
"Then she didn’t," Raphael stated calmly. "I want to see her."
"Let him finish, Raph." Melana looked crestfallen, crushed. "George, what do you think?"
Her face was a mirror of Callie’s face the day she had learned the truth and her dark eyes, while creased on the edges where Callie’s were smooth, were imploring him. He looked away quickly, unable to stand the reminder. "I - I don’t believe her. I think she wanted to die."
"And why is that?" Raphael demanded. "What the hell did you do to her, you little bastard? What?"
George took a deep breath. "There are circumstances that you’re not aware of and it’s - it’s up to her to decide what she wants to share."
Raphael’s eyes narrowed. "You don’t believe her yet you hide information for her? You want us to think that she’s the guilty one. I see what you’re doing. You want us to believe that she’s weak and I know my daughter. I know her. She would never do this. Never."
"Please, Raphael." Melana dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Dr. Webber? Is - is my child okay?"
George stared at the wall and spoke no more.
He didn’t need to.
The Chief was in charge and someone had to be.
*~*~*~*~*~