Rain

The box

Grief comes in its own time for everyone, in its own way.

-Miranda Bailey

When Emily had left Boston, she had never looked back. She thought of them often, sure, but she never made a single move to contact them. There was no telling how they were and she didn't ever bother to ask because it only brought up memories. Plagued memories that hurt too much now.

But Dr. Wyatt was helping, she'd give her that. It had been another week of therapy and they had just discussed Boston after a lot of pushing. What her relationship with the attendings were, how good she was, how her brother was doing. The edge didn't dull but talking was easier. Living was easier. So she got careless. She left the psychiatrist's office and right into Alex.

"Dude, you're seeing a shrink?" he quipped first but then realized that she had a good session. She's broken, he realized quietly. There were only so many women in his life that cared about him. He wasn't going to let his smart mouth drive away one of them. "And it works."

"Yeah, it does I guess," she mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck as he sighed. "We haven't had a drink in a while." It was a quiet proposal, one made out of pure nostalgia. To the pre-Boston days. Back when their biggest problem was if being a good doctor and stupid romance. Back when they were much younger - when they weren't married and full of self hatred.

"We haven't," he agreed and they were off to drinks with Joe's. Then they sat at the bar, Joe serving them their regulars. Her brandy ran down her throat smoothly and she relished the feel of it. The last drink she had was... was so long ago. She had been pregnant so she couldn't drink. "You okay?"

The brunette realized he asked her something before but didn't hear it as she nursed her drink. Taking another sip, she set it down and cradled the glass. She could just barely see her reflection in the amber liquid. "No," she said truthfully and tilted her head to look at her friend. He took a swig of his beer and asked for another, a storm brewing on his face. "I take it Izzie didn't call back."

"Yeah," he snorted, finishing his first beer and beginning the second. "She's a crappy wife," Emily didn't say anything against or for the point, only finished her brandy and slamming the glass on the bar.

"You never talked about what happened," Alex suddenly said bluntly. He was holding his liquor well - two beers wasn't even that much - when he asked and she glanced at him.

"For good reason."

"You aren't the same person I remember."

"I think so, too."

"So this Tom guy." She was surprised he remembered his name. Then again, he probably heard the gossip of the hospital. "You really liked him?"

"Yeah," she whispered, thanking Joe quietly when he poured her another drink. "And he's gone."

"Like Izzie," he pointed out and she agreed. Not exactly, but the marks are the same.

"Two birds of a feather,"

"Life's crap, but that's nothing new."

"Cheers to that." Their glasses clinked and alcohol filled empty stomachs and shattered hearts.

.

Ella walked up to the reception, asking the nurse as politely as possible, "I'm looking for Dr. Moore. Is she on call right now?" Adjusting her grip on the box, she waited patiently.

"Um..." the nurse seemed nervous at the mention of the brunette doctor. She searched up the name on the computer, waiting for the system to load as said doctor came around the corner. She was with Mark as he told her about a surgery he had performed earlier on a trauma patient.