Bullet Wounds and Broken Noses (Chapter 1)
Author: rcruz
Disclaimer: If I owned them, things would look a lot different. The characters, settings, established histories, and general Grey's Anatomy universe referenced in this work are properties of their respective owners. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Callie is forced to confront her feelings for Erica when an old friend of Erica's shows up at the hospital.
Author's Note: This is a very short piece that can be appropriately labeled AU. In this universe, the Stephens thing did not happen and Erica breaks up with Callie after she finds out about the whole Mark thing. This picks up a couple of days after the breakup. It's a little different than what I am used to doing, so we'll see if it works.
Sometimes a person moves too slow, takes too much for granted, deliberating and processing to a point that she comes dangerously close to losing everything.
Chapter 1 - Sam
Charting had to be the worst part of being a doctor. Callie understood it was necessary, essential really, especially if you expected a patient to live through a hospital stay. But charting was boring. So instead of charting like she was supposed to be, Callie was looking for a distraction. She had come down to the clinic to chart, wanting to steer clear, for now, of Dr. Erica Hahn, her friend and almost girlfriend. They had ended their involvement shortly after it had begun. So shortly in fact, that there was some question as to whether it actually counted as a relationship. It hadn't been Callie's idea. She hadn't wanted to break-up, but she understood why Erica did. When she thought about it, considered everything that had happened, she understood and had even concluded that it was probably a good idea. It gave them both time to work things out, process things without the pressures of a relationship. It was for the best. At least that's what Callie kept telling herself.
What she had not anticipated, was how much it would just suck. She missed Erica. She missed the coffees they were constantly getting for each other, she missed doing sunrise yoga with her, she missed the kissing. She really missed the kissing. Most of all she missed her friend. She missed her smile and damn it, she just missed her! She was surprised by how much Erica's post break-up behavior bothered her. It had been nothing by cold and angry glances from Erica the last two days. And that was part of the reason she had come down to the clinic to chart. Erica never came to the clinic. The other reason of course was because charting was boring. But amazingly, nothing seemed to be happening in the clinic, nothing exciting anyway. Everyone just seemed to be sitting around waiting. There was the couple waiting in Bed No. 1 with what looked like a tired 3 year-old. There was the elderly man sitting and waiting for God knows what in Bed 2. There was a younger woman sitting in Bed 3 holding her right arm, which appeared to be bleeding. Just when she was about to give up all hope for a decent distraction from the tedious task of charting, she heard the voice she least expected to hear in this particular space.
"Samantha Ruiz! What trouble have you gotten yourself into?"
"Nothing really. It's just a scratch."
It was the woman holding her arm who responded to Dr. Erica Hahn, the very person Callie had been hoping to avoid. Callie noted her smile, the way the woman' s eyes followed Erica's body as Erica made her way to the bed, where the woman sat perched comfortably.
Erica's hands were in her lab coat, but she was smiling. She was smiling, actually smiling for a patient. She was giving this patient the type of smile Callie thought was reserved for her. The one she saw after hours at Joe's or sitting in her apartment toasting the end of the day.
Suddenly Callie Torres was very interested in what was going on in Bed 3.
She had not missed the way both women's eyes had brightened upon seeing one another. She had certainly noted the easy familiarity they seemed to have. Erica Hahn did not have many friends. She had told Callie that. So who in the fuck was this woman?
Callie had come here purposely knowing Erica rarely came to the clinic, but now Erica was here being too friendly with some stranger. So what if she seemed to know the stranger. Callie didn't.
Their break-up, Callie had decided, had been inevitable, but so was their reconciliation. Callie was sure of it. They would get back together. They were just...different in how they dealt with things and Callie needed some space before everything could mesh for her. Callie was different than Erica. Her whole life had just changed and she needed time to get comfortable in her own skin again. But Erica, the cardio-genius that she was could just adapt. It had scared the hell out of her to hear Erica tell her she was her glasses; that she was some kind of light-shining-down-angels-singing-from-on-high revelation for Erica, because with Callie things didn't happen that quickly. She had to think, process, do stupid things before she was ready to settle into her new skin. It was like breaking in a new pair of shoes. They don't feel comfortable at first and all you want to do is take them off, but eventually, eventually they get to be so comfortable that they start to feel like they're a part of your own anatomy.
Callie hadn't been as ready as Erica. She knew that Erica had a drive that was unmatched. Not even Yang in all her brilliance and arrogance really matched the passion and drive that Erica seemed to possess. That drive had made her one of the top cardio-thoracic surgeons in the country. Callie suspected that Erica tackled all of life's obstacles in the same way she approached surgeries: analyze, consider your next steps and then act. Callie had been hoping, praying really, that Erica would ride out the uncertainty with her, would let her work things out in whatever way she needed to and just be patient with her. But she also knew how unfair that was to Erica. In was unfair to expect Erica to take a wait and see approach, to just sit patiently and let Callie work out her neuroses and hope that Callie would still want her at the end of it all. It was unreasonable. Callie knew that and so she had very reluctantly let Erica go.
Initially, she had thought Erica was okay with everything that had happened. Erica had told her she was okay. But that had not been the case. Erica was not okay, so not okay with Callie's behavior, which Callie understood in a way. Callie was not okay with her own behavior. She had been freaking out and when she freaked, she generally tended to act in ways that were indirectly self-destructive. She didn't jump in front of moving trains or anything, but she did things to sabotage herself. George O'Malley was a case in point. She had liked him, but because he didn't like her as much as she liked him, and because his friends didn't like her at all, she had freaked out. And freaked-out Callie did stupid things like marry him on a whim. She had married him knowing he didn't love her. She had loved him, but in a weird way. It was almost as if the fact that he didn't love her was a challenge to her, something she had to overcome. She had wanted to make him love her, thought marrying him would accomplish that. She was over that now.
Her and George had tried to make it work, but they both knew it wouldn't and it was just a matter of how it would end. It had ended badly for her because even though she loved him in a weird way, it still hurt that he had slept with Izzie. It hurt even more that he lied about it for a while. It was the reason she had told Erica about her own kind-of infidelity with Mark right after it had happened. But it wasn't the same kind of betrayal, she had rationalized. Her and Erica weren't married, they hadn't made any vows. Still she hadn't wanted Erica to not know and then find out in some messed up way.
Erica had said she was okay with it. Callie had been surprised by the response, shocked even, but she shoved that aside, counted her lucky stars and tried to start over. It had lasted all of seventy six minutes. Seventy six minutes later Erica Hahn had found her at Joe's, where she had ended up with Mark of all people and just told Callie she wasn't okay. She had been calm. There had been no angry shouting, no hysterics. She had just stated matter-of-factly that she wasn't okay, the whole situation wasn't okay, Callie wasn't okay, the whole hospital wasn't okay. And then she left. That had been two days ago.
It was difficult. Their friendship had obviously cooled and Callie found her life a lot emptier without Erica in it. She missed Erica. She never doubted that she would eventually feel comfortable, that she would process all the neuroses and end up at Erica's door ready and able to start a life with her. She was getting there. She really was. They would get back together.
But the woman sitting in Bed 3 was fucking with her plan!
Callie watched Erica and the woman intently and barely noted when someone joined her at the nurse's station. She felt a nudge that forced her eyes away from Hahn and her patient who were now talking amiably, while Hahn examined her arm. Annoyed she looked to her right.
"What?" she asked clearly irritated.
"You keep staring like that and you might just bore a hole in one or both of them."
Bailey had little time for all the romantic ups and downs of Seattle Grace, but had long ago resigned herself with having to cope with them.
"Whatever," Callie responded; trying to dismiss Bailey and returning her attention back to the chart she had been filling out. For a few seconds the subtle scratching of pens on clipboard could be heard even over the chaotic noise that served as a permanent background.
"Who is that woman?" Callie asked her pen still on the paper moving fast and furiously in unrecognizable patterns.
"Don't know," answered Bailey also seemingly immersed in charts. "She came in asking specifically for Hahn. She said she was a cop."
"A cop?" Callie was now thoroughly intrigued. She could not hear any of the women's conversation from her place at the nurse's station, but there was no mistaking that these two knew and liked each other. She glanced their way again, heedless of what it might look like.
Erica was performing what looked like a routine examination. The patient was a tall woman, kind of young looking, with wavy brown hair that went over her ears, but was not quite long enough to make it shoulder length. Still, it was too long, Callie decided and it didn't look good. She looked like a shaggy dog. Her perusal was cut short as Erica reached for the curtain and abruptly blocked Callie's view.
"I wasn't sure you'd come down and attend to us lowly non-complicated patients."
"I could just ask an intern to take a look at you, so please a little respect? Otherwise, just shut-up."
"Yes, doctor," Sam had replied smiling.
Samantha was smiling unashamedly. It had been almost an after-thought to come here instead of Mercy. Mercy was "the" hospital that law enforcement in her precinct went to if they got hurt. Many of the victims of violent crimes in the area ended up there, so cops spent a lot of time there. That was probably why they felt comfortable going there themselves when they got hurt. They knew the doctor's there and it was just familiar. That was where Sam had met Erica Hahn the first time. But Erica's move to Seattle Grace had brought an end to quick lunches at the hospital, which had seriously cut down on how much she saw her friend. Ultimately that had also resulted into fewer dinners and less time with her friend outside the hospital. Looking at her now, Sam instantly regretted that she and Erica had allowed their friendship to slip away from them like that.
She liked the doctor's no-nonsense attitude. She had first met her on the Rhineland case. They had requested a consult on a cause of death because there had been some debate within the crime lab. The victim had either died of a heart condition or from a beating. In her mind it should have been an easy determination, but the beating had in reality not been harsh and the man had a pretty severe heart condition, so the forensic team was unsure of cause of death.
She had expected mere speculation, more non-answers, but Dr. Erica Hahn was not interested in that. She had been asked to consult as the top cardio surgeon and she had not been happy to be "wasting time" with the police on an already dead guy she could do nothing about. But she relented and gave a thorough explanation of the guy's condition and exactly what type of beating it would have taken to kill him. His heart condition, she had authoritatively declared was the prime suspect. The beating certainly didn't help, but it was not the primary cause. Had he had a stronger heart, he would have more than survived. Despite the fact that her report literally left them up a creek without a paddle, Sam had appreciated the no-holds barred, afraid of no one, straightforward attitude.
Being thoroughly dismissed, her and her partner had skulked away and agreed to meet the next day to see if they still had a case. She had thought about going home that night, but decided she was too restless, so she drove around. Driving usually calmed her. It had been on her aimless drive that she had run into Dr. Hahn a second time, stranded on the side of the road with not one, but two flat tires. She had thought it was fate at the time. She had thought a lot of things. She had mistakenly thought Hahn was gay and interested. She had thought Hahn would be grateful for the help. Instead Hahn cursed her out, blaming Sam for her late departure and the subsequent flat tires. Sam had found the whole thing funny. The woman was being ridiculous, how could she not find it funny?
They had ended up at Sam's cousin's bar sharing drinks. After a few false stops and starts involving miscommunications and crossed signals, they had become friends. She had seen Hahn at work and knew she could be harsh and unforgiving, but she had also been lucky enough to know her personally. And personally Erica Hahn was a very loving person. In fact, the paradox that was her friend sometimes worried Sam. Erica had become so adept at holding people at bay, at scrutinizing those she let close to her, that she held almost everyone at bay. When someone was able to claw through the tangled mess of vines that guarded her heart, they found a very vulnerable woman whose heart was as new and tender as the bottom of a baby's feet, overly sensitive, having not had time to develop a tough exterior. Erica was a woman of extremes. You were either in or out and Sam worried about the devastation someone could cause Erica when she let them in, because she would open to them so fully, her chest cavity might as well be open.
She hadn't seen her in months. In fact, she had seen her only once since Erica had started her gig at Grace. Their jobs were demanding and so she had thought nothing of it. But seeing her sauntering into the clinic reminded her of why she liked this woman and she vowed that she would make more of an effort to bolster their friendship.
"What did you do?" asked Erica just looking at her, hands stuffed into her lab coat. She was still as beautiful as Sam remembered, long hair cascading interestingly over her shoulders. But she looked different, wound up, tense. Even the smile she had given Sam seemed subdued.
"I fell out of a car."
Erica's eyebrows rose, but she did not move.
"It was moving at the time."
Erica's eyes widened as she moved closer; she carefully eyed the bruises and scratches liberally covering Sam's right side.
"Well first I was shot in the arm, but that had already been taken care of at Mercy. The bullet's gone and they stitched me up, but..." she stopped wanting to gauge Erica's reaction. She saw exasperation in Erica's eyes.
"Anyway, I landed on the arm with the stitches and I think some of them broke."
"Christ!" Erica exclaimed and finally removed her hands from her lab coat. "Come on, let's see what kind of damage you've caused."
Erica pulled out a stool and sat trying to exam the wound. She was all business now, poking and prodding her. Finally she stood and starting rifling through cabinets, pulling out various things, most of which Sam could not really name.
"I'm going to have to re-do the work. I have to take out the old stitches, clean up the wound again and put in new stitches."
Sam stared at her blankly. "Okay," she said.
Erica had finished gathering her materials and was staring at her. "It's going to hurt."
"Whatever."
"Okay. Take off your shirt," she instructed.
Sam froze.
Erica turned to find the curtain and closed it around them giving them at least some privacy.
"I'm a doctor, okay, so nothing personal, but that shirt looks like someone dragged it through the mud, so it needs to come off," Erica stated trying to put her at ease as she placed the things she needed on a tray.
"So, do you like it here?" Sam inquired as she started to unbutton her shirt. She was trying to distract herself from the fact that she was going to be kind of naked in front of her friend. Shirt off, Erica started her work.
"I like it fine. It's different than Mercy. Actually, sometimes I don't know if I like it. I can't seem to get into the teaching and everyone here is sometimes so..."
Sam waited a full 30 seconds. "So what?" she finally blurted. Erica's talking was taking her mind off of what Erica was doing, so she couldn't really afford for Erica to just stop talking like that.
"I don't know. Sometimes I like it here. A lot. Other times, the people just drive me nuts. The residents are smart and talented, but...they seem like such children. Everyone is in each other's lives. Everything just becomes so personal around here."
"You seemed friendly with people at Mercy."
"No. We were cordial, collegial with each other, professional. We didn't spend our days fucking in the on-call room. In fact that room is used more for sex than for actual sleeping here. I've stopped sleeping in it because I never know who's been in there or what they've been doing. It's just weird. I'm almost done cleaning this out. Hey do you have something to wear? That shirt you came in is really disgusting and I hate to risk infection with this wound."
"Um, I think I have work-out clothes in the trunk of my car. I guess I can ask Kate to get a shirt from there."
"Who's Kate?"
"Oh you know just my latest straight-girl crush," Sam smiled weakly. "I really know how to pick'em don't I?" she continued. "I mean put me in a room of straight girls and lesbians and I'll pick the straightest one there to develop an impossible crush on. I mean look at you. Completely straight woman and wham, first thing I do is think I'm in love."
Erica looked away, hurriedly gathering the now dirty gauze and dumping it in the garbage. She was seriously avoiding Sam's eyes.
"Her name is Kate, right? I'll go find her."
Sam frowned at Erica's response. Was Erica offended? She thought they were way past the awkward stage about her crush. It was a hundred years ago and totally laughable now. Maybe she was just imagining Erica's discomfort. Maybe the pain in her arm was making her delirious.
She looked up as the curtain opened expecting to see Erica. Instead an absolutely drop dead gorgeous brunette walked in. The brunette seemed surprised to see her without a top. The brunette was dressed in scrubs with a white lab coat so Sam assumed she was a doctor.
"Hi," said Sam a little awkwardly, since she was after all shirtless.
"Um hi. I was looking for Dr. Hahn."
"Yeah she stepped out for a second. She should be back soon."
"Okay."
There was an awkward silence.
"I don't usually see her down here treating patients in the clinic. You know cardio god and all."
Sam was trying to figure angles. Was this women just making small talk until Erica got back? Why did she seem so nervous?
"Yeah. I bet she's pissed I made her come down here."
"No one makes Erica, I mean Dr. Hahn, do anything," said the brunette.
"No, I guess they don't. Well I guess three years of friendship can get me my own personal cardio-god."
The brunette laughed, although it didn't seem genuine to Sam.
"Your own personal cardio-god?" she asked through clenched teeth.
Whoops this woman was having some territory issues.
"Well I guess for a few minutes anyway. I'm Sam. I'm a friend of Erica's."
Sam had decided that she needed to get this back on more familiar ground. She was Erica's friend. She got to make jokes about personal cardio gods - whatever that was. But why was this woman's tone and body language fairly screaming that she definitely did not like the idea of Erica being anyone's personal cardio-god?
"Dr. Callie Torres. I'm a resident here and...a friend."
Sam gave her a questioning look.
"Nice to meet you Dr. Torres."
"Erica's never talked about you."
"Ouch," said Sam although her smile belied any real hurt.
Callie chucklednervously.
"Well, Erica is not known to be a chatterbox. And I haven't seen her a lot since she started here, but at one time she and I talked regularly."
The curtain parted again.
"I got your shirt." Erica stopped dead on seeing Callie.
"Dr. Torres. What can I do for you?"
Callie averted her eyes momentarily before responding. "I saw you here and was um...wondering if you needed any help."
"I'm a surgeon. I can handle a few stitches."
The tone was completely foreign to Sam. She had known Erica professionally, but she had never heard this ice cold hardness from her.
"Right, well...um…it was nice meeting you Sam." With a final glance at Erica the brunette turned and made her way out of the little alcove created by the curtain.
"What was that?" asked Sam.
"Nothing," came the cold response spoken with a finality that was so clear, Sam decided it was best not to continue her line of questioning. But...one did not train at the police academy and not learn a thing or two about getting information from people.
"So damn, how cool are you to get a resident offering to help with sutures? That is pretty sweet."
"They all want to help with everything. They kiss ass, so they can scrub in on my surgeries. It's really quite..."
Sam waited, knowing that a word from her at this point would only shut down the fountain of information.
Erica seemed to be struggling with finishing the thought, though. Seconds turned into minutes.
"She was nice," Sam tried a different tact. "Incredibly hot too."
She had been trying to figure out what line of questioning would work on her friend. The comment about Callie's hotness had been dropped almost innocuously. The woman was clearly hot, but the words produced a complete stillness in the person working beside her. Erica had been working in a rhythm, so the stopping was noticeable. Sam felt it in the small pull of her skin or rather the lack thereof. Okay something was definitely up.
"Erica? You alright?"
The work started anew. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"Listen let me take you to dinner tonight. We haven't gone in forever. Plus I have a nagging suspicion you could use a friend right now."
She saw Erica reach for the surgical scissors on the tray she had prepared and watched her finish.
Erica sighed heavily as she began cleaning up.
"Erica? You know I'll just keep bugging you. Besides, I haven't seen you in months. Come on, you can tell me all about this place and why it drives you crazy."
"Yeah. That sounds good. Besides, I think I have to tell you something."
"Okay."
"I'll save it for dinner. Why don't we meet at your cousin's place at 8?"
"Perfect."
