Callie didn't feel like retreating to the basement yet. What she really wanted was to go raid the leftover wine from the party, but she didn't think that would be much appreciated.
So instead, she found herself sitting at the nurse's station just down the hall from Denny Duquette's room. Her formal gown was stiff in all the wrong places, making her seat incredibly uncomfortable, but she just couldn't bring herself to call it a night. The evening had just been too damn weird. Telling George that she loved him, him not saying it back, the prom, Denny, and finally George choosing his friends over her yet again. She knew that Izzie Stevens had gone through a lot and needed support from her friends, but she couldn't help but feel a little abandoned. Pile that on top of the guilt she was feeling for being selfish, and she had every right to sit here at the nurse's station, a few feet away from the hospital room of a dead man, and brood.
She was staring into space when she suddenly realized that someone had appeared next to her and was shifting papers. By the time she had drug herself fully into consciousness, because she realized that maybe she had been dozing a little after all, the person had swooped down the hall and into Denny's room. After letting this sink in for a moment, she registered that the person must have been Dr. Erica Hahn, the doctor who had come from Seattle Presbyterian to do the transplant. Of course she had been paged, probably drug out of her bed at, Callie glanced at the clock on the wall, nearly one A.M. to look over Denny one last time before he was sent to the morgue. Callie had never understood why the doctor actually had to come look over the patient; if they were dead, what more was there to do? But it was hospital protocol, and so it had to be done, ridiculous as it was.
Just out of curiosity, and because she was getting tired of being poked by her dress, Callie got up and rustled down the hall to Denny's room. The door was open, so she leaned against the frame and looked at Dr. Hahn. She was standing by the bed with her back to Callie, reading the chart she had taken from the nurse's station.
"He threw a clot," she said, almost laughing when the vlonde jumper and whirled around. She didn't though. It seemed natural, but the same time wildly inappropriate, especially with the dead body on the bed right there, a few feet away. But the evening had been weird already. The inner conflict didn't seem so out of place.
Dr. Hahn sighed and closed the chart with a snap. "I know," she said, looking back down at Denny's body. Her hair clocked Callie's ciew of her face, but she could guess at her expression. Losing a patient was always hard, no matter how little you knew about them, or how many times you told yourself you were not attached.
"There was nothing that could have been done," Callie continued. "Even if a whole staff of doctors had been here, it was too quick." There was a moment of silence before Dr. Hahn collected herself and brushed her hair behind her ear. Setting the chart down, she took a corner of the sheet on the bed and began to pull it up to cover Denny's face. It caught, and Callie moved to the other side of the bed, her gown rustling. She took the opposite end and helped tug the sheet over Denny. She paused, looking at the shape under the sheet that was a living, breathing, joke cracking man just a few hours ago. She took in a shaky breath and looked up to meet Dr. Hahn's gaze. "There's nothing you could have done," she repeated quietly.
"I know," Dr. Hahn said again. She reached over and picked up the chart. She moved towards the door and Callie followed. Dr. Hahn swept out, but Callie paused, looking back, hand on the knob.
"Goodbye Denny," she said under her breath before closing the door. She hadn't known the man well, but felt that he deserved at least a farewell.
She turned and looked down the hallway to where Dr. Hahn had already reached the nurse's station and sat in the chair Callie had vacated a few minutes before. She joined her and leaned against the counter, chin on her hands.
"I'm sorry," she said. Dr. Hahn looked up from Denny's chart, her eyes narrowed in confusion.
"What?" she asked, as though Callie had just beamed down from a spaceship.
"I'm sorry," she said again. She was beginning to feel like a broken record tonight. "I'm sorry you lost him. Losing a patient is always hard, no matter how long you've been a doctor."
Dr. Hahn sighed and put her head in her hands. "I thought he was alright. I never would have left if I had thought otherwise," she said, voice slightly muffled. After a moment, she took a deep breath and picked up her pen. She started writing in Denny's file again. Callie didn't know whether to stay or go. She was still tempted to go hunt for a leftover bottle of wine from the prom, but something about the hunched, defeated posture of the woman in front of her made her stay. Before she could make up her mind, however, Dr Hahn looked up again.
"You work here, right?" she asked, pointer her pen at Callie questioningly.
Lost in her own thoughts, it took Callie a second to realize that she was being talked to. "Huh? Oh, yeah." She extended a hand. "Callie Torres, Orthopedic resident."
Dr. Hahn shook her hand. "Erica Hahn. So, do you usually dress up and wanted the halls at one in the morning?"
Callie chuckled. "No. It's the Chief's niece. She has cancer and it ruined her prom. So they brought the prom to her, here. It's kind of absurd, really. But we were all forced to attend."
Erica's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "This hospital is weird." She looked up to meet Callie's eyes. "Is it normally like this?"
Callie shrugged. "Yeah. Not this bad, but yeah, it's weird."
Dr. Hahn shook her head as she shut Denny's chart with a snap and placed it back where it belonged. Standing up, she straightened her jacked and extended a hand to Callie once more. "Goodbye Dr. Torres," she said, nodding and picking up her purse. "I'm sure our paths will meet again. Until then," she cocked her head and smirked. "Don't get too carried away with your formal late night wanderings."
Callie grinned. "I won't. Goodbye Dr. Hahn." Dr. Hahn turned and walked down the hall towards the elevators, and Callie took her seat at the desk. She discreetly watched her strong, quick stride, not really understanding why she was interested. Dr. Hahn radiated confidence and strength, and there was something intriguing about the woman, even though they had only just met. She didn't know the first thing about her, but she found herself wanting to get to know her better.
She glanced down the hall. Dr. Hahn was gone, so she reached over and pulled out Denny's file. She wondered why she was doing this. Feeling slightly stalkerish, she opened it. Dr. Hahn's handwriting was the same as her demeanor and stride: strong. But she thought that underneath it all, maybe there was a little vulnerability.
Realizing what she was doing, she snapped the chart shut and pushed it away. She shook her head to clear it. What was this? She was sitting at the nurse's station at one in the morning in a formal dress, just down the hall from a dead man, stalkerishly inspecting the handwriting of a woman she had just met.
The night had been just too damn weird.