Chapter Fifty-Two: No Good at Saying Sorry
"Chicken." Meredith nodded as we all stood around Izzie's hospital bed, trying the chicken samples she had brought in for us to try for Meredith's wedding.
"I know it's chicken." Izzie rolled her eyes. "I want to know what it taste like."
"It tastes like chicken." Alex shrugged.
"I'm having surgery today." Izzie reminded us.
"Maybe." Bailey interrupted. "If the mets have shrunk."
"I am maybe having surgery today, and as such, I cannot taste the chicken for myself, so I really need you guys to tell me what it tastes like." Izzie pressed. "I need to nail down this dinner so I can announce it on Meredith and Derek's wedding website."
"There's a website?" Meredith asked through a mouthful of chicken.
"So can you please be a little more articulate then just chicken?" Izzie ignored Meredith. A smile filled her face as the bathroom door opened and Derek walked out in a suit. "Yay! Oh, that's the one."
"Very dapper, Dr. Shepherd." Bailey chuckled.
"You're serious about this? It's not some cruel joke?" Derek asked, fixing the cuffs.
"You look fantastic." Izzie assured him as she took pictures with her phone. "He looks fantastic, right?"
"Yeah, good luck with your scan." Cristina said before everyone started to file out of the room.
"Yeah, bye. Good chicken." George added.
"So?" Izzie looked between Alex and I, since we were the only ones left.
"Pork." Alex gave her a quick kiss before he left.
"Beth, please, as a chef?" Izzie pleaded with me.
"It's delicious, Iz." I promised her. "It has a great sear on it with a subtle teriyaki and ginger glaze, a slight hint of cilantro. Is that good enough for you?"
"Yes, thank you." She nodded.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hey, what are you doing here?" Cristina asked George when we found him standing outside the ER, dressed in trauma gowns, like us. "The Chief specifically asked me to cover Mer in the pit."
"And me." I reminded her.
"I'm on Hunt's service all month." George informed us.
"O'Malley. Hey there now." Hunt nodded to Cristina and I as the ambulance pulled up, turning his attention back to George. "Uh, O'Malley, update me."
"Uh, two ambulances." George said as the second ambulance pulled up. "Three patients, one critical. Multiple gunshot wounds."
"Mike Carlson, thirty-five, multiples GSWs." A paramedic briefed as the back of her ambulance opened up, handing Hunt the man's chart. "Last BP- eighty-eight systolic after two boluses of LR."
"Where was he shot?" Hunt asked.
"Chest, abdomen, back, legs, shoulder." The paramedic listed off as the second ambulance opened, Cristina and I quickly hurrying over to it.
"Someone meant business." George commented.
"I'm not so sure about that." I took the chart for one of the paramedics from my ambulance, a woman and young girl climbing out of it. The woman had an arm in a sling while carrying the girl, no older than seven, on her hip with her good arm.
YOU ARE READING
Stitches of Life
Fanfiction"I don't get it." He shook his head at me, his frustration clear in his eyes. "Why can't you just let yourself be happy, for once?" "What makes you think I'm not happy?" I crossed my arms over my chest, my eyes narrowing into slits as I met his gaze...
