Author's Note: April's Jesus-love has really bothered me; it came out of nowhere and has been a source of drama in her life rather than a grounding force. For the sake of my own sanity, I needed April to get a grip on what she wants. I thought it would be interesting for Callie, someone who is devout and gay, to discuss her ideas about faith and love.
So I thought of April and Callie sitting in the hospital chapel after the bus went boom in 9x24. This is a twist of the knife in the hearts of Calzona fans everywhere because this is Callie before she learns about Arizona's infidelity. Enjoy!
In the darkness of Grey Sloan Memorial, the chapel was a beacon of light. This was true in the metaphysical sense but, in that pitch black hallway, it was literally the sole source of light. As the only place in the hospital in which candles were permitted, a hundred tiny fires made the room glow. It was welcoming, enveloping, quiet. It was the perfect place for April to calm the hell down.
She rarely spent time in the chapel, which was surprising when she thought of how often she prayed. April never felt the need to do so in an ordained place – her prayers could be said anywhere: in a trauma bay, an on-call room, an operating theatre. Jesus would hear her. And she desperately needed Him to hear her now.
She sat in a pew toward the back, and shook. Her whole body was vibrating – adrenalin bombarding receptors making her heart race, her hands tremble, pupils dilate. She was cold with wet scrubs clinging to her skin. April wanted desperately to commune with God, but her mind couldn't form a sentence. There were just emotional tangents – she never completely experienced one feeling before the next one took over. A cascade of fear, relief, shame, elation was clobbering her insides. She just wanted some peace - a moment to stand still and breathe.
Eventually, her hands stilled, her breathing evened out, her thoughts slowed. She took a moment to thank Jesus for saving Jackson's life. April made it a point to thank Jesus everyday – for giving her the strength to save patients, for His guidance, for granting her another day of life on Earth. She didn't doubt that those moments of gratitude counted but, in that chapel, April's entire soul was enveloped in this feeling that she had been granted an amazing gift. Of all the wonderful things that would (hopefully) happen in her life, the memory of seeing Jackson walk away from that burning bus would easily be one of the most important. It would be a memory she could turn to in times of doubt and crisis; if everything else was crumbling around her, she would remember: Jackson had lived.
The door to the chapel opened and Callie Torres stepped in.
"I came to see if you were okay," Callie said. April nodded, but didn't turn back. She sat watching her hands.
Callie took a few steps toward the altar, dropped to her knees slowly, crossed herself, and stood up. She sat down beside April in that bright, empty chapel. "You know why I had to send you away, right?" she asked.
April nodded again. She was ashamed of the way she had acted, shoving and hitting an injured man, yelling and accusing at the top of her lungs in front of patients and colleagues.
"He's okay."
April looked up to meet Torres' gaze. Her own eyes began to water. "He's okay?"
Callie nodded. "His shoulder will take some time to mend and there are some first- and second-degree burns on his back. But he's okay."
April inhaled deeply and let out her breath slowly, feeling like she would never be thankful enough.
"I don't see you in the chapel often," Callie said.
"I don't come here that much," April admitted.
"I'm here a lot. I used this place to think, to pray. It gives me perspective."
"You're religious?" April asked. She realized how crass that could sound and quickly added, "Not that I don't think gay people can't be religious but I just…I didn't know you were devout."
Callie's temper had flared a little, but this space, this little chapel in a place that sometimes seemed hopeless, was her serenity. And she felt that there was a moment here to teach. "God is a very important part of my life," she started. "And I consider myself a good Catholic. I'm sure for some people, I'm an abomination. But I am kind. I am generous. I am a mother, I'm a good mother. I am not spiteful. I am not perfect, but I am a lot of things that Jesus wants us to be. And… I love a woman. My love for her is…." She paused.
April sat, listening to her colleague express her devotion and she felt stupid for assuming there was no one who would understand. April assumed she alone in this hospital made God important in her life. She never thought that one of her colleagues might be just as devout, if not as loudly.
Callie thought for a moment and continued. "Corinthians 13. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
It was one of April's favourite verses in the bible. She wanted it recited at her wedding. This was how April pictured love – pure, humble, forgiving, lasting.
"That's how I feel about Arizona. Sure, there's the fact that she's beautiful and sexy and brilliant, but even when she is sitting on the bathroom floor yelling at me, I love her. I love every fiber of her being. And when I married her, it wasn't to spite God. It was to show God that I wanted to honour my love for this person. So, yes, I am religious. And I love a woman. I don't think the two have to be mutually exclusive."
"Callie," April began. "I didn't, I mean, I wasn't implying that you couldn't be religious, I just, I wasn't sure how you reconciled your religion with…everything else. This is all coming out wrong. I'm sorry. What I want to say is, how do you handle the…the hatred, and the accusations from people who claim to be speaking for God? How do you still want to be a good Catholic at the end of the day?"
Callie nodded, understanding what Kepner was trying to say. "My relationship with God is my own. And if at the end of the day, I can speak with Him and have faith that I used what He has given me to make the world a little bit better, then I am okay with that. Jesus taught about love – He wants us to love. So I focus on the love, not the hate. I loved Mark. I love Sofia. I love Arizona. I fill my life with love and I think that pleases God."
April nodded. She had never embraced the church's stand on homosexuality and she often wondered how some people could invest so much hatred and deny the value of love between two people because they are gay. Hearing Callie's devotion to Arizona actually reminded April of her parents' tender relationship, something to which she aspired in her life.
"Love is good," April admitted.
Callie nodded again and smiled. "Yes, it is," she agreed. "True love is good. Love that makes your heart open wider is good. Love that makes you a little bit crazy is good. Love that also calms you is good." This was the moment when Callie wasn't sure she was overstepping, but she said what was in her heart anyway. "Love that makes you attack a man who you thought had died is good."
April froze.
"Come on, Kepner. You nearly lost your mind when that bus exploded."
"Jackson is my best friend. If he had died…"
"You're a trauma surgeon. In the midst of mayhem, you see order and…and reason. You don't seem to do too well with the day-to-day stuff, to be honest with you. Maybe that bus explosion was God trying to give you some mayhem, in order to grant you clarity."
April let Callie's words sink in. Only three things in the world could make her mind slow down, her movements sure, her words come out true – Christ, surgery…and Jackson Avery. Denying that she loved him made April a wreck. Maybe admitting it could be the first step to achieving something similar to what she had with God.
"Just think about it," Callie said. She kneeled once more, made the sign of the Cross, and stood. She smiled down at April, who looked very small and snowed under big thoughts, and Callie shrugged. "Then again, what do I know? I'm married to a lesbian and have a baby born out of wedlock," Callie chuckled to herself. She winked at April and left the chapel, refreshed and wanting nothing more than to see her beautiful wife.
Sitting in the glow of the tiny fires in the chapel, April thought of the big, untamed fire of earlier that night. She made her decision. She needed to talk to Jackson.