Rain

Valentines Day

Doesn't matter how tough we are, trauma always leaves a scar. It follows us home, it changes our lives, trauma messes everybody up, but maybe that's the point. All the pain and the fear and the crap. Maybe going through all of that is what keeps us moving forward. It's what pushes us. Maybe we have to get a little messed up, before we can step up
-Alex Karev

It was Valentine's day. She had planned to have a Valentine and yet she didn't because she broke up with the one person she actually wanted to be her Valentine. Although it had been two weeks since they broke up, she constantly saw him. They never spoke a single word. Because they couldn't. Emily didn't know if it'd lead to her screaming or dying internally more than usual or her pinned in an on-call room. She couldn't risk any of that, so they didn't talk.
It was around six thirty as she finished up her charts. Jackson was finishing up his cardio charts beside her. The man had been a nice companion on the days Meredith or any of her other friends were on shift and she was off - on the off-chance that was.
"Valentine's?" he asked and she shook her head with a laugh. By now, his advances were more of a joke and she swatted at him playfully. "Pity. I really wanted to get some." He winked and she snorted and pushed him away.
"Go away before I find scissors to stab you with," she warned and he chuckled. "We're working anyway."
"On-call rooms," he sang and she sighed, closing the chart. "I'm just saying." She looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Hey, I'm serious this time. It takes two to tango." He wrapped an arm around her waist and twirled her around. Yelping, she stabilized herself on his shoulders. "Come on, Valentine's day."
"Funny joke, Jackson. You are so staying in the friendzone," she teased and he groaned dramatically. "Dude,"
"Dude," he mocked. He was about to say more when their pagers rang. 911 to the E.R.
.
"Taylor, what happened?" she asked as she ran to the E.R. Taylor was there, putting on a trauma gown and a pair of gloves. He paused at the doorway to explain. She followed after him and stood beside the blond as the doors swung open.
"Roof collapse," he explained as the paramedics brought in a young woman. "On Valentine's Day at one of Seattle's most romantic restaurants." Her eyes were wide with fear as the trauma surgeon leapt for the case. Emily felt her blood freeze, watching the devastation of it all from the doorway.
"Clara Walker, thirty, electrical burns to her right arm, leg and chest."
"Is Luke behind me? He was just there and then he was gone," the woman sobbed and Emily felt herself space out - she was back there when for a moment, Tom wasn't the guy crushed under the concrete and they had just set the dad's shoulder and everything was fine. But it was a short-lived moment and then the wind was knocked out of her. The floor was cold underneath her cheek and she saw his legs underneath the slab of concrete. His chest was so colorful. His skin too cold to be human.
"Let's move her to trauma two!" Hunt ordered and she snapped back into it, watching as they brought in another man.
"Lucas Walker, thirty-three. Crushed under lights and a slab of the ceiling. Obvious chest contusions and weak respiratory rate." He had brown hair. Tears streaked his pale face and he tilted his head. She felt like a bomb dropped when Taylor appeared in front of her, sympathetic. He grabbed her by the shoulders and made him look at her.
"Okay, let's take him to bed seven until we can get a trauma room open," Teddy ordered. Her eyes drifted back to the patient and she took a deep breath.
"You don't have to do this," Talor said quietly and she looked up into his blue eyes. Shaking her head, she brushed past him and ignored his words.
"Dr. Altman," she greeted as she hooked him up to monitors. The cardiothoracic surgeon listened to his lungs.
"He's got a pneumothorax. Put a chest tube but otherwise, everything is stable. I'm just worried about cardiac contusions. Page me when you have his scans." Teddy nodded and set down the chart before leaving to tend to another patient.
"Trauma room's open," Bailey announced and Taylor helped her roll Lucas into the room. He immediately took charge, the blond raking his gaze over the E.R. staff. Emily cut his shirt open, revealing his purple-red chest.
"Let's run an abdominal C.T. and a chest x-ray stat. I don't care who you have to push out of the way. You get them," he barked and pulled the ultrasound machine closer. Emily squirted gel onto his abdomen and by that time, the man was already unconscious. "He's got a splenic rupture."
"That's a big hematoma," she agreed. Grabbing the scissors, she stabbed them under his armpit to insert the chest tube. There was a big gulp of air and Emily glanced at his face. He was still unconscious. Good. That's good. She thought and padded the area with gauze when suddenly, his vitals dropped. "Pulse is seventy over fifty. Taylor, he needs an O.R. now."
"You heard her. Let's move people!" he ordered and raised the bars, pushing away the ultrasound machine. Ripping off her trauma gown and gloves, she helped move the machines and held the doors for the patient. Once inside, they looked upwards. The orange number was still on one when - with a jolt - the elevator began to move. "Em, you don't have to - I can ask someone else-"
"No. I'm okay." The elevator dinged. Pulling out his scrub cap, Taylor tucked his hair underneath it.
"Same age, same appearance. I'd understand if you won't," he tried again and she shook her head, sweeping her hair up into bun. Shoving her hand into her pocket, she took out the scrub cap she always kept with her. His scrub cap.
"Neat cap."
"Mind if I use it?" she asked with a side glance. One floor left. He looked away at the vitals again and saw how low they were.
"Normally, yeah. But on a case like this—" he looked at her again. There was something hardened in those eyes— "no. You wear it." Putting it on, she tied it with practiced fingers at the back of her head. The stars shone brightly in the artificial light and for a moment, she could imagine Tom again. He'd be just in front of her, jumping excitedly up and down as he waited for the doors to open. But the image was gone. The elevator doors opened and they surged onward.
.
They'd be in surgery for three hours already. The partial splenectomy had been successful and they were now trying to control the excessive bleeding around the spleen whilst repairing the liver lac. "Can you see it?" she asked Taylor who shook his head slightly.
"No 'cause I can't see a damn thing. Suction.' Digging through, he sighed. "I need more visibility. Hang another unit of blood. Where the hell is all this blood coming from? Em, dig your hand in there." She scowled, pushing past the intestines and near the spleen. Suctioning as much blood as she could, she carefully moved the kidney around. It wasn't there. "The... intraperitoneal space?" he muttered to himself and she looked up at him. Moving the suction around to vacuum all the blood, she tried to distinguish it herself. Finally, for a split second, it was like everything was clear.
"No. It isn't," she argued. "When I moved the suction - it's in the retroperitoneal space." Poking her fingers around, she still couldn't find it. "Iliac veins?"
"Crap. Where the hell is this coming from?" he barked. "The iliac is clear. Kidneys are good. We need more laps
"Right away, doctor." The monitors started beeping and Emily looked up, eyes wide.
"Pressure's bottoming out, he's losing too much blood."
"We need to switch to damage control." He started removing the retractors.
"No. We can still find it," she protested but he ignored it, reaching for the lap pads. "Taylor, don't you dare remove your retractor. I can find it." Her hands dug around the organs, trying to find it but he began to stuff the lap pads into the cavity. "Taylor-"
"Damage control. Now," he snapped. She kept working and he pinned her with an icy glare. "Hands off."
"No."
"I am your attending, Dr. Moore. Hands off the patient," he thundered and she did stop. Her hands raised and he stuffed more lap pads. Shaking her head in disbelief, she scoffed and his head immediately snapped upwards. They stared at each other, the beeping of the monitors fading away. His said give in - hers said never.
"I will not let this man die." Her gaze returned to the cavity and he cursed. Picking up the suction, she used the other hand to dig around. Blood splashed against her sleeves as she suctioned. It was just coming too fast. Shaking her head, she hunted for the tear - the wound that caused this much damage.
"Two tons of hard metal and concrete landing on a human body at who knows how fast - it's too much stress for the body," the attending snarled and immediately, her blood was set on fire and it roared in her ears. Her heart was pounding so fast and she felt her lip quiver.
"I know exactly how much stress it is for the body," she shot back, every inch of her being tremble with energy. "I saw it for myself and I know."
"Then pack it and we can operate another time," he tried to dissuade her when finally, finally, she felt her fingers brush over a small tear on the renal artery. Taylor moved and she shot him with a glance without moving her hand at all.
"I will not give up on this man. Not like Tom. If you give up, then I will do this myself!" She swallowed and managed for the quickest of moment, a millisecond or two, to see the tear. He made a move for more lap pads to soak up the blood and she didn't even have to see him to know what he did. "Do not move." She closed her eyes. Thank God. She thought. I found out, thank you. "4-0 Prolene, please." She reached out a hand and the suture was placed in her hand. Throwing stitches, she glanced up at Taylor. Blinking, she felt the tension in her body disperse and the vitals came back into focus, going back to its normal rhythm.
His face was set like stone, impassive. His blue eyes scanned her hazel ones, searching - wondering what to do next. Finally, they showed a hint of pride.
"That was insubordinate."
"Do I look like I care?" she fired back and he chuckled as they began to close.
"Not really. But that could get you suspended," he said and she smiled behind her mask, too exhausted to say anything, but:
"Like you'd get me suspended."
.
When they scrubbed out, she watched as they wheeled Lucas out. The door whirred open and Taylor came in. He turned on the sink beside her and she bit her lip, shaking her head minutely. Finishing up, she dried her arms and hands and threw it against the glass. Bracing herself against the metal edge of the sink, she looked down the drain. For a moment, she was strong. She had just saved a life. She didn't give up and she ended up being the one who saved him.
Then, the pain crawled up her throat like a hungry animal and she coughed, trying to mask the tears. But they sprung forth like a water from a dam and her shoulders shook. It was as if someone ripped open the wound again. The pain, raw and fresh, nearly swept her off her feet as everything became a blur. Sobs wracked through her whole body, depriving her of oxygen. Her face burned and the tears dripped into the sink, going along with the rest of the water down the drain. A sharp, high-pitched gasp of air stung her lungs as Taylor wrapped her into a hug.
He pressed her head against his chest, near his heartbeat. A hand covered her mouth and the other held onto his arm. The warmth he had, it seeped into her bones and gave her some comfort as he shushed her quietly. "It's okay," he murmured but she still soaked his shirt with salty tears until finally, somehow, the sobs ceased to be just a few hiccups. There were still a few stray tears and her eyes were rimmed with red along with a stuffy nose but she had significantly calmed down.
"Come on, let's go tell his girlfriend or whatever," Taylor murmured and she pulled away. He smiled and for the first time in ages, she felt weightless. The invisible weight on her was gone. Nothing mattered except that she saved someone. She could pretend it was Tom all she wanted, but what mattered was that she savd him.
"Looking like this?" She wiped at her eyes and chuckled shakily. "Not the best approach."
"They're tears of happiness. Besides, you're pretty either way."
"Don't let Lexie hear that," she joked and Taylor laughed loudly. "Tom died," she said after his laughs faded away. She let her head drop and shook her head. The phrase didn't bring forth grief, just honest pain. Planting her hands on her hips, she just kept thinking for a moment. Then, she brushed past Taylor. He sighed and followed after her as she went to the nurse's station to get the room number. Once she got it (thirty-two fourteen), she took the elevator up and entered the room. The woman, Clara, looked up dazedly.
"Who's there?"
"Clara Walker?" Emily entered carefully and the woman's face became etched with worry. "Are you Lucas Walker's-"
"Wife, yes. Has something happened to him? Is he dead?" Emily shook her head and glanced behind her at Taylor. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed across his chest. "Answer me, please!"
"Mrs. Walker. Mrs. Walker!" Emily raised her voice, making frantic gestures. "Stop! Your husband is fine! He had extreme bleeding around his spleen and we performed a partial splenectomy but we managed to save him. Your husband," she sighed happily, "he's fine." There was a pregnant pause until Clara burst into tears.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"You're very welcome. You can see him tomorrow morning," she informed with a smile. "Have a good night, Mrs. Walker." She backed out as the woman continued crying tears of happiness. She walked past Taylor and he followed her out of sight to the hallway. Pausing, she turned around.
"That wasn't so hard." He brushed a hair back behind her ear and a large smile spread across her face.
"Yeah. It felt really good," she agreed and he hugged her tightly. "Tom died."
"He did."
"And I survived," she added and the blond nodded to that too. "I survived." Blinking repeatedly, she rubbed at her forehead. "I survived." With every word, she felt like she could fly. "I lived."
"Thank God for that," Tom whispered, bringing her into a crushing hug.
.
"So this a good place to drink?" a voice asked and she glanced lazily beside her. Jackson filled in the seat, his smile reaching his eyes. "You drunk?"
"Kind of," she admitted, finishing up another glass.
"Me, too. What's your poison? We've been friends for a while and I still don't know."
"Brandy."
"Steady."
She smiled, cocking her head. "You?"
"Gin but I've had a few too many of those already tonight."
Nursing her drink, she chuckled. "You might not want to sit next to me. I do stupid things when I'm hurt and drunk." He chuckled and asked for a beer. Giggling, she waved for another drink and Joe looked at her dubiously.
"Last one," he warned and she nodded earnestly, schooling her features somberly.
"Fine." She sighed and he poured it into her glass.
"I'll make sure she gets home. She lives at Grey's, right?" Jackson murmured and she threw a look his way. Joe nodded, thanking him before going down the bar. Blinking, she turned forward. Her head throbbed with the music and her vision was motion blurry. "You might be way too drunk."
"I know," she slurred. "I know I should stop but it's Valentine's day." Her hand was on his shoulder now, rubbing back and forth. "And I'm alone—" With each word her head tilted from one way to another to somehow emphasize her point— "and it sucks. I thought it'd be okay but hey, whatever right?"
"Any reason why?" He caught her hand and twisted to hold it. She glanced at their link peculiarly but didn't make an effort to move away. His green eyes were... greener than usual. Bright and charming.
"I disobeyed my attending in surgery. But it's okay." She held up a finger before he could speak. "I saved him." Draining her glass, she twisted to pull off her jacket from the back of her chair before facing him.
"Badass," he smirked and she pitched forward, "Woah, woah, woah. Uh, I'm taking you home." He pushed her back onto her seat but she still held onto his forearms. "You're going home."
"Are you coming with?" She smiled coyly up at him and for once, Jackson Avery was stunned. Then, he recovered and a concerned smile appeared on his face.
"I don't know if I'm sober enough," he whispered as her lips pressed against his. His arms came around her waist and brought her crashing into his lap as his lips descended on hers. It was full of heat as her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands tangled in her hair and scratched lightly against her scalp as she pulled back for air.
"Was that a stupid thing to do?" she asked breathlessly.
"Probably," he whispered and his eyes searched hers. "Do you wanna stop?" This time, she didn't even bother answering and pressed another hard kiss against his mouth.
Emily knew it'd be a mistake in the morning but she did it anyway.