Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Celia Chávez – Melanie Iglesias.
Kane Greene – Warren Christie.
Chapter 25:
The warmth that had been seeping into her bare back slowly retreated, gradually releasing her from the blissful REM period. The Latina burrowed her face deeper into the plush pillow, her groan coming out muffled as the cacophony of noise invaded her eardrums and rudely prompted her eyelashes to flutter as she blinked her eyes open. Not only was Doc barking up a storm from somewhere in the house, but her excellent senses easily detected the bright and shiny – cough, irritating and nauseating, cough – duo pounding their fists repeatedly against a door, while they continued yammering to each other about inconsequential matters.
This time, when Celia groaned, it resembled a weak keening wail as she mourned the hour of sleep that had been robbed from her before her tiring and utterly grueling shift at the hospital began.
A deliciously rich chuckle saturated the room, startling Celia. Snapping her head toward the direction of the sound, her chocolate orbs dilated with lust at the sight of Kane, fully dressed and prepared to leave. "Morning, gorgeous," he gave her a roguish smile, sending a zing of lust through her body, her nether region clenching and she found herself yearning for a round two with the sexy resident.
Ignoring her libido, the Latina stretched and carded a hand through her mahogany strands. "Nothing ´good' about it. I'm gonna wring their necks," she mumbled the last part to herself. The corner of his lips curled and another rich chuckle permeated the air, like melted chocolate, which really, should be illegal at this ungodly hour!
Kane scooched over to Celia's side of the bed, settled his hands on her arms and stroked them in a soothing upward and downward motion. "They've been at it for a while now. I woke up to Stevens yelling at O'Malley to use a plunger if he's gonna clog up the toilet, otherwise…what was it?" he mused, but the mischievous grin on his features was a huge indicator that the neuro resident memorized the enter dialogue by heart. He then snapped his fingers in mock remembrance, "Right, 'otherwise we're gonna make you crap in the backyard'."
"Oh my God!" Celia groaned, grabbing the closest pillow within arm's reach and burying her face in it, her next words coming out muffled, "Blondie and Bambi need a muzzle."
The pillow was instantly ripped from her hold, replaced by a large, warm hand. Celia blinked at Kane. He was genuinely smiling at her, eyes crinkled in a smile, his hand cupping one side of her face to make her level with him and his face was a hairsbreadth away from hers that she could smell his cologne… seriously! Who smells this good at 4 in the freaking morning….not that she's complaining…much. "I don't mind. It was…highly entertaining," he smirked. "I haven't had such a comedic wake-up call since I moved out of my childhood home. Besides, I've got patients to check up on and an early surgery."
The next thing the Latina knew, his lips sought hers in a passionate and dominate kiss, his tongue plunging into her warm cavern. Celia's hands carded through his hair and yanked, prompting him to moan in her mouth and he pulled her bare form flushed against him, providing a delicious friction as her breasts rubbed against his soft sweatshirt.
Knock! Knock!
Pulling apart with mutual groans, Celia called out, "What?!" utterly failing to mask the note of irritation in her tone. The door promptly swung open and Izzie's eyes widened at their intimate position, whatever she had to say dying in her throat. George however, who stood plastered behind the blonde, immediately slammed a hand over his eyes and puerilely yelled, "Oh, my eyes!" before he blindly made his way down the hallway.
"You'd think living with three girls he'd be used to this by now," Celia scoffed, though she, like Kane, had an amused twinkle in her mahogany orbs.
Chuckling – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately – Kane swiftly placed a parting kiss on her lips, stood up, grabbed his leather jacket and folded it over his arm. "Guess that's my cue. Dr. Chávez, I'll see you later," he winked. Pausing by the door, he grinned unabashedly at a frozen and still speechless Izzie, "Dr. Stevens." and he left. They clearly heard Kane make a quip to George about using a plunger next time, followed by George's nervous stammering and a moment later the front door slammed shut.
"So," Celia jumped out of bed, unbothered by her nudity, especially in front of Izzie who made it a habit to prance around in her Hello Kitty underwear on a nearly daily basis. Opening her closet, the Latina pulled on her comfy sweatpants and a Dartmouth t-shirt – purely for the sake of George's innocent eyes. "Seven days hearing Kane and I through the walls and Georgie still hasn't lost that ridiculous look of surprise," she commented nonchalantly, turning to meet Izzie's immensely amused expression.
Izzie grinned in a conspiratorial manner, "Well, in George's defense, he's gotten used to walking in on me naked." Celia's bark of laughter intermingled with George's indignant, "I heard that!"
After the entire Doc fiasco, the chipper blonde and the twisted Latina had reached to a mutual, unspoken truce. The subjects of their many fights were never brought up again, preferring to ignore the humongous elephant in the room for the sake of a peaceful and more civilized living environment. Celia was more than okay with the arrangement, far too used to locking away her true emotions inside a vault, and Izzie found the Latina more tolerable in the absence of their daily quarrels.
Doe-like soft brown eyes scrutinized Celia with a sudden intensity, "So… you, uh, you and Dr. Greene… you seem happy-ish." Celia arched an inquisitive brow at her and folded her arms, knowing that the silent treatment, coupled with an impassive expression always reduced Dr. Model into a nervous wreck and made her spill her guts. "Not that I'm judging or anything-" Bingo! "I'm just, you know, making an observation," she squeaked.
Celia decided to throw her a bone. "Yeah, well, I am…happy-ish. Kane respects what I want, he respects our arrangement, most especially the no strings attached part. Unlike Shepherd, I have yet to beg him to leave or to give me space or stop with the romantic mumbo-jumbo. Every time I wake up, he's either already gone or getting dressed, thank god."
"Basically, you traded a unicorn for a typical guy," Izzie raised an eyebrow at her. Derek was every single woman's dream after all… until his skeleton in the form of a satanic redhead with emerald eyes popped out of the closet, that is. Celia shrugged. "Typical guys have less baggage. But, you got it wrong," Celia didn't know why THE hell she was voluntarily choosing to confide in Izzie, maybe hell was freezing over? "Kane's got a few qualities of a unicorn in my eyes. In the halls of the hospital, he treats me like any other intern and unlike others-" yup, definitely a stab at a certain somebody with gorgeously moussed hair, "he doesn't corner me to declare his undying love or show signs of favoritism."
George seemed to have deemed it safe to join in, though he still had a hand shielding his eyes, "Didn't I overhear you and him in the on-call room two days ago?"
Rolling her eyes at him, Celia yanked his hand away from his eyes, "I'm decent, Bambi. And FYI, it was during our break. Now," she enunciated, eyes flickering between her two bright and shiny roommates, "before we continue getting off-track, I assume there's a perfectly good reason you two decided to barge into my room?"
Almost instantaneously, they sobered up, and when Izzie spoke next, Celia felt her miraculous good mood plummet. "It's Meredith. She's locked herself in her room and refuses to go out. Apparently, she's not going to work today."
Celia gaped at her, "What? She's an intern. Saving lives is not optional."
Izzie smacked George's arm, "That's exactly what I said! Thank you!"
Without another word, Celia made her way across the hall to Meredith's room, bright and shiny close behind. Doc sat in front of her twisted sister's closed door, adorable head flat on the ground in a depressed state, but upon seeing Celia, he straightened up and charged right at her, greeting her with slobbering licks all over her face. "Oh jeez. Yuck! Doc, down boy. Down!" The reason behind Doc's frantic barks this morning now made more sense to the Latina, for Meredith always kept her door open for their faithful dog in the mornings. This time, however, she locked him out. Knocking softly, Celia called, "Mer. It's me. Open up."
There was a brief pause before the sound of the door unlocking resounded from the inside. Izzie and George rolled their eyes in unison, not particularly surprised; Celia was always an exception when it came to the dirty-blonde intern.
Closing the door behind her and Doc, Celia flopped down on Meredith's side, analyzing her depressed state and bedraggled hair. "You know, for someone that's hell-bent on staying in, you're already dressed for work," she remarked, giving Meredith the opportunity to explain her sudden reclusive status to her on her own pace.
Doc snuggled into Meredith's side, allowing her to scratch his head, and slowly, she turned to face the Latina, a haunted quality in her striking green eyes as she spoke the four accursed words that turned Celia's blood to ice…Four words, spoken once in the past that irrevocably changed her life and left a permanent scar on her soul.
"I have a feeling."
"Mer, Mer, can I come in?" Celia Chávez tentatively knocked on her best friend's door.
She could hear the bed groan slightly and small feet shuffling against the floor before the door slowly opened, offering only a small crack. A bloodshot eye peered through the crack and after a slight pause of hesitation, Meredith opened it fully, allowing her best friend entrance.
Getting a good look at the dirty-blonde, green-eyed girl, Celia wrinkled her nose, "You look horrible, Mer."
"You sound like our mothers," Meredith snidely pointed out. Celia gasped and dramatically slapped a hand to her mouth, "The horror! I'm gonna go wash my mouth with soap. I'll be back." The Latina made to head over to the bathroom, but a giggling Meredith grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, dragging her over to her unmade bed. "Don't be silly, CeCe."
Celia smiled smugly, "Made you laugh, didn't I?"
"You always know how to make me laugh," Meredith said in a small voice, eyes lowered as she traced random patterns on the mattress. Concerned, Celia shuffled closer and placed an arm around her shoulder, "Mer, what's wrong? Auntie Ellis said you haven't left your room all morning."
Meredith gnawed on her lower lip that had a slight quiver to it, "How come you're here?"
Allowing the subject change for now, Celia said, "Mom's letting me spend the day with Daddy at work. Since Mom's spending the morning with yours, Daddy's gonna pick me up in a bit."
There was a moment of silence between the best friends, when Meredith pointed out, "It's your birthday."
Celia rolled her eyes and playfully nudged the blonde, "I know genius. It happens once a year. Like your birthday did two weeks ago."
"Har-har!" she said in a monotone. "That's not what I meant. I don't want to ruin your day with my dumb problems-"
Celia frowned and meshed their fingers together, "Hey! You're my best friend, my sister! To me, your problems are never dumb. Your problems are my problems. Tell me, c'mon." She nudged her and a small smile curved on the green-eyed girl's lips.
"I have a feeling."
Confused, Celia blankly repeated, "A feeling. Like what, a sixth sense thing?"
Staring at the Latina, a tear rolled down Meredith's face as she said with trepidation, "Like…a bad feeling, CeCe. I don't know how to explain it. All I know is it's not good."
At that moment, Sophie Chávez called out, "Mija! Your father's here!"
Celia threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tight, "We'll continue when I get back. Love you, Mer!"
"Love you, CeCe."
Apprehensive mahogany eyes collided with a pair of frightened greens, tears welling in the latter's eyes.
It's a look patients get in their eyes. There is a scent…the smell of death.
"A…feeling?" Celia whispered in a voice of forced calm.
"Yes. A feeling."
Some kind of sixth sense.
"And this…this feeling, is it-, is it similar to the one you had last time?"
Meredith looked away, unable to hold the intense mahogany gaze any longer.
"Meredith?" Celia pleaded, grabbing her hand in a manner eerily similar to her nine-year-old-self. The haunted look in her twisted sister's eyes was answer enough, and goosebumps exploded over Celia's skin.
When the great beyond is headed for you, you feel it coming.
Celia was seriously proud of herself when she managed to assemble a complete sentence without stumbling over her words. "Mer, we're interns now. I mean, we spend most of our days in a hospital where bad things happen all the time. Just don't get attached to any patients and we're gold." Ouch, okay she may have rephrased it harshly, but Meredith didn't appear to think so as a small smile appeared on her face, sensing reason in Celia's words.
"Right. Of course. Death is a part of our lives now. Makes sense," Meredith breathed out, though the bad feeling still clung to her like a leech.
Celia forced a smile, "Exactly, so. I'm gonna shower and since you're up, you get the coffee ready. I'll join you in fifteen."
As the Latina headed over to her room, Meredith's relieved expression instantly dropped, portraying unadulterated fear. "Please, please, don't let this be like last time. Please let me be wrong," she murmured to herself.
What's the one thing you've always dreamed of doing before you die?
**GA**
Dressed in their yellow trauma gowns, Alex, Cristina, Izzie and George were clustered beside each other in the pit, preparing themselves for the incoming cases. The second Celia and Meredith joined their persons' sides, Alex narrowed his gaze at Meredith, eyes alight with concern, "What's this I hear about you not wanting to come in today?"
Simultaneously, Celia and Meredith glowered at the two sheepish bright and shiny interns who immediately gave them a wide berth, separating themselves from the line of fire. Still glaring daggers at them, despite the distance, Meredith spat out, "I'm fine. Just an…an overreaction. Forget about it."
Cristina shrugged. "Okay. How's it going with you and McStudly?" she asked Celia, her and Alex sporting shit-eating grins.
Spluttering, Celia gaped at them. Mc-Who-now? "Oh, no. Oh no, no, no. Tell me you didn't? Tell me you did not just McNickname Greene!"
"Technically, I didn't. Meredith did," Cristina rushed out in one breath, having no qualms in throwing Meredith under the bus. Alex smirked at Celia's comical expression. The Latina stared intently at her twisted sister, who shrugged, and said, "Oh come on! The walls are thin, CeCe, and the noises coming from your room," she exaggeratedly fanned herself, "Dr. Greene is one hell of a stud."
Alex's smirk fell, replaced by a look of utter disgust.
Cristina backed up the green-eyed-blonde, "Besides, Greene is a studly piece of ass. Look it up in the dictionary! It'd be a crime not to Mc him!"
"I know what studly means," Celia sharply retorted, more amused than annoyed. "McStudly. Huh, I guess it could be worse." Celia would never admit, not even in her dying breath, that she preferred McDreamy. …only later in the day would she realize the veracity regarding her wrong choice of words.
At that moment, an ambulance showed up, putting an end to their conversation. Alex sighed in relief, "Saved by the ambulance."
"Not like we can do anything without a resident," Cristina snarked, furious with their situation. Deciding to take their chances, Izzie and George rejoined the four twisted interns, and the six of them loitered in silence, hoping that some Resident or Attending would take pity on them and give them something to do, preferably a surgical something. Alex suddenly cleared his throat and chose to cajole Izzie into doing charts together.
"Alex, I gave you your chance. You had your chance and you slept with someone else," Izzie said, matter-of-factly. George rolled his eyes and Celia, Meredith, and Cristina tried to suppress themselves from bursting into laughter. "I forgave you in the spirit of being a bigger person. Of rising above but these legs are closed to you now. The panties are staying on. So you and me? Never gonna happen."
Celia, Meredith and Cristina lost the battle and cracked up laughing, George joining in. Celia in no means joined Team Izzie; through thick and thin, the Latina would always stick by Alex. Unfortunately, she had to give Dr. Model credit for handing Alex his ass and putting her foot down in regards to his attempts in regaining her favor. She had a zero tolerance for cheating, and if her boyfriend cheated – a very nice, very handsome, and very hypothetical boyfriend, mind you – she'd bust his balls and never allow the jerk back into her life. Therefore, Celia grudgingly – grudgingly! – respected Izzie Stevens for her maturity regarding the entire matter. Besides, Celia was no fan of Syph-Nurse and hated her guts.
"So you don't want to do charts later?" Alex repeated with a smirk. Cristina rolled her eyes and cut in before Izzie had a chance to retort, "Can we just get back to the point?"
A confused expression blessed Bambi's features, "You had a point?"
"Yeah," Cristina said in a 'duh' tone. "Which surgeon are we going to have to suck up to today?"
And then, a heavenly voice the six interns desperately missed and yearned to hear again, boomed from behind, as snarky as ever. "That would be me!" Startled, they all turned around and laid eyes on a very pregnant Bailey in casual attire, glaring at them as though they killed her puppy…whoops, sorry George, killed her cat.
"Dr. Bailey?" Cristina breathed out, joy coloring her features.
If possible, Bailey's glare became more potent, "I've been gone two weeks. Two weeks! And you ran off two residents! I've got people phoning me at home, screaming telling me my interns are Rosemary's babies." Meredith, Alex, George and Izzie adopted a slightly offended look at the comparison, while Celia and Cristina tried their hardest not to crack a grin – obviously, nothing got past Bailey and she glared at them, their amusement not appeasing her in the slightest, especially not in her current irascible mood. "Nobody wants you! Do you think I have time for this? I am pregnant! I'm supposed to be on bed rest. I'm supposed to be growing a human being. I'm supposed to be calm!" she ranted, breathing heavily through her nostrils like a rhinoceros. "Do I look calm to you? Did I raise you fools to be pariahs? Chávez! Why are you smiling?! Is this a joke to you?!"
Still smiling, Celia rapidly shook her head, "No, no. It's not that. It's just, your rants are like music to my ears."
Bailey glared, "Don't you bother sucking up to me-" she was cut off by George, who walked right up to her, his expression zombie-like, and engulfed her in a hug. "You're back," he said dreamily. She smacked him on the back, "Ah! I'm not back." George tightened his arms around her in reply, as though scared she might disappear. "Get off me!" and with a final smack, George released her and smiled at the other interns, all five of whom were gaping at him as though he just landed from outer space.
Bailey straightened up as an ambulance could be heard approaching. "Alright then. Karev, Grey, stay here and wait for the incoming case; Yang, Chávez, I've got something special assigned for you two," and the devious glint in her eyes made their stomachs churn. "You're both on Shepherd's service. Derek Shepherd."
"What?" "Why?" Celia and Cristina simultaneously gasped, staring at Bailey as though she had personally offended them – which she kinda did seeing how she knew Derek Shepherded was their least liked Attendant. Bailey rose to her full height and placed her hands on her waist as she glared up at them incredulously, "Why? I'll tell you why?! When I likened you to Rosemary's babies, I was being kind. While Grey, Stevens, Karev, and O'Malley were problematic, both of you were the ones responsible for running off two residents, and you two received the most complaints! If I were you, I'd be grateful, unless you want to perform enemas all day?"
Celia and Cristina paled. "Dr. Shepherd's fine," they spoke simultaneously once again, much to the others' amusement. Bailey harrumphed and continued barking out orders, "O'Malley page Addison Shepherd." Obediently, George nodded and ran back into the hospital. "Stevens get a wheelchair."
Izzie cocked her head, bemused, "A wheelchair?"
"A wheelchair," Bailey confirmed.
George scuttled over to Bailey's side as Izzie darted back in. "What shall I tell Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd?" he inquired. Bailey's eyes narrowed at Celia, Cristina, Meredith and Alex. "What did I say?!" she barked. The aforementioned interns hurried off to their elected tasks.
"Dr. Bailey?" George probed.
"What?" she barked. Recoiling, George tentatively repeated, "What do you want me to tell Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd when she answers her page?"
At that moment, two incidents overlapped: Izzie returned with a wheelchair in tow and a gush of water splattered onto the ground. Izzie gaped, her eyes wide, and a shocked George instantly backed away. Calmly, Bailey said, "Tell her my contractions are ten minutes apart and my water just broke all over your shoes."
**GA**
Derek stared.
Then he blinked. "Come again?"
Sighing, Cristina nudged Celia forward. "Bailey assigned us to your service," she impassively informed him.
"Bailey? Bailey's back?" Derek didn't know whether he was thrilled over the Nazi's return, or having Celia on his service for the day. He had to remind himself of the promise he made and squash his happiness regarding his close proximity to the Latina beauty.
"Yes," Cristina curtly replied, not bothering to hide her displeasure.
Derek stared at them again, "Well, as of now, I've got nothing." Rubbing his forehead, he motioned for them to follow him, which they did, unhappily.
Five minutes later, they found themselves in a hallway where George and the Chief were excitedly peering into a patient's room through the tiny window on the door. Noticing Derek, Celia and Cristina, George jabbed a thumb toward the door, "Bailey's in there."
Derek smiled, though it was a bit strained, "I heard." He then looked over his shoulder at the two grumpy interns he was forced to tote around, "You two wait here for me." Approaching the door and peering in, he quickly lost his strained smile and in a strangled voice, said, "And her cervix is being examined by my wife which is ah, which is a visual image I'll never get out of my head. Thanks for the warning," he glowered at Richard and George, both of whom continued to smile stupidly at him.
At the word 'wife', Celia's heart sank. The frigid Latina quickly transformed her face into an expression of cold indifference, hating the fact that Derek bloody Shepherd still had an impact on her.
The door opened and Addison stepped out, "Well… Hmm the gathering of men outside the delivery room. How mid-century of you."
"What are we, chopped liver?" Cristina murmured to Celia.
Celia blankly stared at the wall as Addison leaned forward and kissed Derek. The moment their lips connected, Celia's pager went off and all eyes were fixated on her. Derek gazed at her intensely before he jutted his chin to the end of the hallway, "Go answer that, and be quick. Yang, stay here." Grumbling to herself, Cristina leaned against the wall beside George as Celia departed. "I need to have a word with Bailey," Derek informed his wife.
"Let him in," Bailey called from inside the room. She didn't even give Derek a moment to get a word in; just as the door closed behind Addison, Bailey demanded, "This about the lackeys I sent you?"
Derek threw her a pointed look, "I've got two unhappy interns following me around with nothing to do. Why?"
"Punishment for their behavior in my absence," Bailey smirked, shrugging unapologetically. Addison however, laughed into her hand. Derek gaped at her. "Punishment?" the word was laced with incredulity. "Being on my service is punishment? You know, in New York, interns and residents would jump through hoops, fight tooth and nail for a chance to be on my service, and here it's punishment!"
Bailey looked at him, unimpressed, "Don't look at me like that. You seem to have a knack for pissing off my interns, Shepherd."
Derek glared at her, not having an appropriate comeback to defend himself. Bailey wasn't incorrect in her assumption. He messed up big-time with Celia, and because of that, he didn't endear himself to the rest of Bailey's interns. Only Meredith tolerated him, and that was only because he was helping Ellis as a favor to the Chief.
His pager went off all of a sudden.
"Well. Looks like you have use for Yang and Chávez now," Bailey flippantly commented.
Leaving the room, Derek barked out, "Yang, with me."
**GA**
In the trauma room, Meredith was checking the heart rate of her patient, James Carlson, all the while ignoring the paramedic who had managed to get her hand lodged into the patient's chest, and trying to ignore the nonstop hysterical screaming of Mrs. Carlson from outside.
There really never was a boring moment at Seattle Grace.
"How's his respiratory effort?" Burke asked as he entered the room. Not detaching her eyes from the heart rate, Meredith replied, "Absent breast sounds on the right side. Air bubbling on the side of the wound. He's shocky and getting a little cyanotic."
Burke leaned over Meredith, scanned the heart rate and nodded. He then turned to address one of the nurses, "Let's get him intubated and place an occlusive dressing over the wound." His eyes flickered to the young paramedic, "And who are you?"
"Hannah. Hannah Davies," was her nervous response. Burke raised an eyebrow, "Hannah, why do you have your hand inside my patient?"
A paramedic in his mid-thirties who had angrily stalked Meredith and Hannah from the ambulance to the trauma room, snapped, "I'd like to say for the record that I told her not to."
Hannah ducked her head, looking slightly chastised and way in over her head, "I tried to tamponade the wound with gauze and pressure but the only thing that would stop the bleeding was my hand. Every time I tried to move it he starts bleeding out." Burke stepped closer and inspected the wound. "Can I take my hand out now?" Hannah sounded nervous, a hint of a plea in her tone.
"You don't stick your hand inside of a patient when you don't know how he was injured," the other paramedic heatedly rebuked her. "You don't stick your hand inside of a patient at all."
Quick as lightning, Hannah turned to glare at him from over her shoulder, "Yeah, I know that now!" Meredith nervously glanced at Mr. Carlson's wound, not wanting Hannah to aggravate it with her quick sudden movements. Burke appeared to be thinking amongst the same line as he barked for the paramedic to leave.
"She gets to stay?" he asked incredulously.
"She has her hand stuck inside my patient," Burke promptly retorted. Hannah smirked at the irascible paramedic as he left the room. "Oh don't get happy," Burke addressed her, Hannah's smirk dropping under his disapproving gaze, "You have your finger on a major bleeder. Mr. Carlson is running out of time. The only thing that you've won is an all-expense paid trip to the OR." Calmer as he addressed Meredith, he said, "Dr. Grey, prepare to transport her to the OR," and then the room in general, "And let's make this happen quickly people."
Swiftly departing the room, he winced at the earsplitting screams of his patient's wife. "Dr. Karev! Make that woman stop screaming and tell us what happened."
**GA**
In retrospect, when Celia's pager went off, summoning her to the on-call room, she should have known what to expect on the other side of the door.
The door had barely closed behind her when a warm body surged forward, sinewy arms wound tightly around her waist and soft lips tackled hers ardently. As she was being kissed with such vigor, her waist was released from the large hands encasing it and they traveled down to her ass and lifted her until her legs were snugly wrapped around him.
Snapping out of her daze, Celia abruptly turned her head, "Dr. Greene, you better have a good reason for this."
He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose and smirked cheekily, pushing her backwards until her back was flushed against the wall and her front against his chest. "I've no surgery scheduled for the day and-" he quickly added upon seeing her furious expression, "-I checked the board. It's quiet. Dr. Shepherd's got a free schedule-"
"How'd you know I was assigned to Shepherd?" Celia arched an eyebrow at him.
"I already told you," he squeezed her ass lightly, "I hear things." He then tipped her head back and latched on to her neck, "Nobody'll miss you-" his lips were now sucking her jaw, moving up to her chin, "-for a while."
Unable to hold it in any longer, Celia hit her head against the door and softly moaned, "Kane. Bed. Now."
Kane didn't miss a beat, his grin illegally devious, one of his most winsome traits. He carried her over to the nearest bunk bed, his arms around her waist and her legs around his tightening as they traveled the short distance, hands running through and tugging against each other's hair. Once the back of his knees hit the bed, he flipped her over and dropped her onto the mattress, quickly clambering over her, an arousing gasp escaping her perfect plump lips.
He quickly forced his white coat off, chucked his shoes off with the heel of his feet and yanked his shirt over his head, nearly ripping it in his haste.
"Kane," Celia moaned, legs spreading around him. Blue-grey orbs darkened with lust at the sound of his name spoken so wantonly.
"You've got too much clothes on, gorgeous," he huskily remarked, not wasting a second to divest her of her light blue scrubs; but at the sight of her black lacy bra and matching underwear, he lost the last dregs of his patience and simply forced her pants down to her mid-calf, maneuvering himself until he fit snugly between her legs, his hot breath colliding with her clothed center. He stroked his tongue over her and Celia whined, a sound so unlike her, when he touched her clit.
He continued to tease her through her underwear, holding onto her shaking thighs until he was painfully hard. She shoved herself downward in the hopes of gaining more access to his talented tongue and lustfully growled, "Stop teasing and get on with it!"
Her dominance was his undoing.
Kane released her from his tongue. "These need to come off," he hissed, more to himself than the panting Latina. He ripped off his boxers, allowing his impressively hard and thick member to spring free and her shoes, hooked his fingers in the sides of her underwear and pulled down, divesting her of them and her trouser in one fell swoop. He hovered over her, salaciously licking his lips at the sexy display beneath him: a bra-clad Celia writhing impatiently and demanding for his attention – the literal definition of a freak in the sheets.
Unwilling to be teased a second longer, Celia expertly flipped him over and seductively crawled down, stopping between his legs. She looked at him with her intense dark eyes for a moment before she, without warning, leaned forward and took him entirely into her mouth, her gag reflex nonexistent. "Fuck!" Kane shouted, throwing his head backward against the wall. One hand was tangled in her hair and the other balled into a fist as he felt the pressure in his abdomen release, "Damn-Da-, Fuck CELIA!"
She swallowed him down easily and squeezed him, his limp member jolting awake. When it came to Celia Chávez, Kane was insatiable.
He pulled her closer, energized by the mere touch of her creamy skin against his and started sucking at the sensitive skin of her breast, making sure he left a mark, despite knowing that she'd kill him for it later. He unclasped her bra as she grinded against him, his member erect once again. He thrust upward and earned himself a sinful moan, her nails digging into his muscular back, "Fuck me, Kane. Now!"
By a mutual, unspoken agreement, Kane positioned himself vertically on the bed and as soon as his hands released her, the Latina slammed herself down onto him, impaling herself against him, a long, deep shudder escaping their lips at the new sensation. Celia tossed her head backward and moaned, gripping his shoulder for support as she started to move with reckless abandon. Occasionally, Kane would lift her up, his hips rising to meet her delicious thrusts.
"God, you feel good. So, so damn good!" he whispered huskily into her ear, sucking her neck lightly. In no time, she was clenching so intensely and so painfully tight around him that he was beginning to see white, blinding stars. Her entire body started spasming at the intensity of the wave and they yelled their climax in harmony, both of them twitching with aftershocks and breathless praises escaping their lips.
**GA**
Derek's dull day took a quick and terrifying turn with the simple arrival of one patient: Tucker Jones, A.K.A. Bailey's husband.
"Let's get Mr. Jones to surgery," Derek announced to the room in whole. "Where's Chávez? Yang, did you page her?"
Bewildered, Cristina frantically scoped every corner of the trauma room, as though just noticing the odd absence of her person. "Er-, uh, no, I didn't."
"I think I saw her heading to the on-call room a while back," some random nurse piped up as they started wheeling Tucker down the hallway toward the elevator.
Recognition dawned on the Korean intern and she hastily moved toward the direction of the on-call room, "I'll get her, Dr. Shepherd." But Derek dismissively waved a hand and promptly paged her, "No need. Go with the nurses."
"Really, it's no trouble at all, I'll just-"
Suspicion colored the Attending's features, his blue-blue eyes suddenly sharp and hostile, "Is there something you'd like to share, Yang?"
"N-No."
"Then is there a reason why you simply cannot follow orders?" he barked. Cristina's nerves vanished and she glared at him, "No, sir."
Derek extended a hand toward the nurses, "Then go with them."
"Yes, sir," she bit back, the spiteful tone not going unnoticed.
He burned a hole through the door of the on-call room and stormed over. It was unlocked and the lights were off. Flicking them open, the bright light portrayed an image that turned his blood to stone and pumped venom into his heart. Celia Chávez was bent over, pager in one hand and searching frantically for something with the other, and Kane Greene stood right beside her, pulling his shirt down to cover his previously naked torso.
"Am I interrupting something?" Derek surprised himself with his calm tone, for he was anything but calm. He was furious and he was insanely jealous.
A loud gasp permeated the suddenly tense atmosphere, and when Celia whipped around to face him, he was presented with a clear view of her disheveled state; her mahogany curls had a mussed after sex appearance, her eyes were blown wide, and her lips were swollen. Her pants were wrinkled and her upper-half was covered by a lacy black bra.
"Dr. Greene, I'd like a private word with Dr. Chávez," Derek's calm façade had yet to crack, and as he gestured to the door, his gaze continued to burn the shell-shocked Latina. Noticing his hesitation, blue-blue eyes flickered toward the resident and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from screaming himself hoarse when he took note that only after Celia gave him a nod, did he leave the room, closing the door silently behind him.
The tension could be cut with a butter knife. Derek and Celia stood a distance away from each other in stony silence. Slowly, Celia straightened her shirt, belatedly realizing that she had been searching for it when he burst into the room unannounced, and began to put it on. In the process, Derek's sharp eyes narrowed in on a blossoming purple hickey emblazoned on her right breast.
The fact that Greene had marked HIS Celia succeeded in unleashing all his bottled rage.
"I never pegged you for a hypocrite and a whore, Chávez," Derek's voice trembled with fury. The Latina recoiled backwards as though he had struck her, and her dark orbs flashed with indignation. "You who spew many fancy words about maintaining professionalism in the hospital, and here you are, bending over for surgeries like a two-bit tramp. Last week, Dr. Greene allowed you to drill burr holes into his patient, now I know why."
Derek possessed an ugly characteristic when angered, something only his most intimate friends and family knew of: he gets mean when he's angry, and he knows exactly what to say in order to hurt whoever he's mad at.
Celia had to clench her fists and shove them into her pockets in order to stop herself from slapping the Attending in the face. "How dare you!" she sneered, her cheeks flushed red with apoplectic anger. "What I do in my own free time is none of your business. The moment you paged me I was ready so don't you dare lecture me about my lack of professionalism. I am not some prostitute, selling my body and my integrity for a surgery, I get by with my intelligence and my hard work. Not only are you debasing me as a surgeon, but as a woman! You already made me the other woman, the mistress who screwed another woman's husband, don't you dare peg another demeaning title to my name you bastard!"
"Having sex with your superior in the on-call room is not professional. Did you already replace me with a younger version?" Derek spat out. "You disgust me. You're a heartless, bitter, manipulative woman… I think I'm more disappointed in myself, really. Because I wasted time on you, I painted you into somebody I wanted you to be and you turned out an utter disappointment. I thought you could replace Addison, make me happy, but you don't even know how to love, how to open your heart and let someone in. I was completely wrong about you. And…I've officially given up on you. You don't have any redeeming qualities. You're just a cold, impassive, bitter and mean girl playing surgeon."
More than a decade passed since Celia shed a tear, and this was the closest she had ever gotten to breaking down. A hurt gasp emanated from her lips and she shakily lifted a hand to cover her mouth. She didn't know if her entire form was shaking in anger, or unadulterated pain. Her heart ached and for a second, she wondered if she was suffering from cardiac arrest. But one thing she did know, was that no words could describe the heartbreak and the pain Derek's words evoked.
When she spoke next, her words were little more than a whisper, each word oozing with sincerity as her vacant eyes collided with Derek's flinty stare. "I wish I never accepted that drink."
Taken aback at the non sequitur, Derek uttered, "What?"
"That night. At Joe's. The first night we met. I wish I never accepted the drink you sent me. I wish that, that the first time we met was when I approached you regarding Katie Bryce. I wish we never had sex, and I wish I could change the past. Stop your wife from cheating on you, and stop you from ever coming to Seattle. I wish I never knew you," Celia concluded in a hush.
That stung. But in his furious state, Derek easily brushed it off. "You're off my service, Chávez. Follow me," he demanded, not sparing her another glance.
They rode the elevator to the OR floor in silence. Celia spent the entire time compartmentalizing recent events into her ironclad vault, slamming the door shut and locking it up.
"Dr. Burke," Derek offered him a winsome smile. "I need a favor."
Burke shut off the tap with his forearm and met the neurosurgeon's gaze with an arched eyebrow, "Oh?"
"I'd appreciate it if you could take Dr. Chávez off my service," Derek smoothly revealed. From the corner of her eye, Celia could see Cristina and Meredith huddled together, identical grimaces on their faces. "I have Bailey's husband on the table and I don't have the time or patience for incompetence."
Celia glared at a certain point on the wall, her face burning, not with humiliation, but rage.
Burke's response however, surprised nearly everybody in the vicinity, "It would be an honor to work alongside Dr. Chávez again. Dr. Grey, you're with Shepherd. Chávez, scrub in."
"Thank you, Dr. Burke," Celia courteously smiled at him, ignoring McDouchey as she bypassed him. Cristina and Meredith immediately joined her side. "I don't want to talk about it," Celia coldly said, prompting the two other two to flinch at the icy quality and compliantly back off.
**GA**
Celia ignored the dipstick beside her, not bothering to offer her empty words of encouragement, or emotional words of wisdom, getting her hand stuck inside a man's chest proved that she didn't have an ounce of it to start with.
"Okay everyone," Burke announced in a clear voice. "I'm going to do a thoracotomy and Hannah here is going to pull her hand out. Dr. Chávez is going to clamp the bleeder when we have more exposure." He then turned to Hannah, "You ready?"
Hannah, . dipstick, vigorously nodded, "More than ready."
Burke held out his hand, "Scalpel." The hand with the scalpel hovered over Mr. Carlson, "Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three." The scalpel was a scant inch away from making an incision when the door blasted open with a thundering slam, scaring nearly everyone out of their wits.
Celia gaped at Alex in shock, wondering if he lost all his marbles.
"Dr. Burke?" Alex breathlessly managed to utter. "I need to speak with you."
And yup, Burke ain't a pleased camper if his vexed glare was anything to go by. "I am in surgery, Karev."
Alex's hazel eyes collided with Celia for a second, and the Latina sucked in a breath at the desperation and fear she managed to decipher. He then looked at Burke, more insistent than ever upon noticing Celia in the room, "You wanna talk to me sir."
Maybe Burke also took note of the strong emotions dancing in Alex's eyes, or his curiosity got the better of him, but after a slight pause, he acceded and handed the scalpel back to the closest scrub nurse.
Much to the Latina's frustration, Burke took Alex aside and she couldn't hear a darn thing. But luckily for her, note the sarcasm, the brainless twit beside her decided to open up her yap, her glittering brown orbs focused on Alex with intrigue, "He's cute. He single?"
Counting backwards from three in her head, Celia got a grip on her anger and drawled, "Depends which one you're talking about." Thankfully, before the dimwitted moron could elaborate – though Celia purposely played dumb – Burke took a step into the OR, a resigned Alex shadowing him, and Celia desperately wanted to know why her person was staring at her in a mixture of alarm and fear.
"Hannah," Burke called, and due to her own experience, Celia sensed the manner of forced calm in which he spoke, "What do you feel? Inside of Mr. Carlson. What is your hand touching?" The Latina repressed herself from rolling her eyes when the dipstick voiced her confusion, and impressively, Burke appeared to have more patience, "Is your hand touching anything hard? Like metal?"
When she attempted to move her hand, Celia's hand instinctively shot forward, grabbing her wrist and halting any further movement – seriously, how the hell did this nincompoop become a paramedic?! Any small movement had a huge probability of rupturing something or could make Mr. Carlson bleed out.
Burke nodded his head toward Celia in gratitude before turning his attention back to Hannah, "Don't move your hand. Just tell me what you feel."
Acquiescing, Hannah's eyes squinted in contemplation, "Um, my fingertips are touching something…kinda hard." She nodded, confident in her deduction. "Yeah, yeah definitely."
"Oh my God!" Dr. Milton, the anesthesiologist, breathed out, his expression one of utter terror.
"Dr. Milton!" Burke sharply admonished him. Celia felt faint, she had a slight suspicion of the current events, which brought her back to this morning, and the four accursed words Meredith said. Despite her shock, Celia managed to tighten her grip on the panicky paramedic's wrist when she attempted to pull her hand out.
Burke beckoned Celia over to his side and in a quiet yet grave tone, said, "I want you to walk out of this room. Walk, do not run. Go and tell the charge nurse that we have a code black." Celia's lips parted in shock and her eyes widened in horror; oh she knew what Code Black stood for, the most unheard of code in history. She was officially terrified to death. "And then," Burke continued, totally oblivious of Celia's rambling mental diarrhea, "tell him to call the bomb squad."
**GA**
Scary notion: Celia didn't know what to do.
She always had a plan of action, always knew the definition of a word, or the symptoms and treatment to an ailment. She was sharp as a whip, and always had a solution to everything. Maybe that made her a perfect little Mary-Sue, or maybe her many horrible traits made up for it, set a balance.
Enough with the rambling!
The point is, when Burke gave orders to advertise the code black situation and have the bomb squad notified, Celia followed instructions to a T wholly based on adrenaline, and adrenaline alone. Her hysterical inner monologue was reduced to a buzz and then, barely a whisper. Like an automaton that had no more orders to fulfill, she inertly made her way down the corridor and stood post in front of the OR where a freaking bomb could detonate at any random moment.
Celia hated being useless, but faced with a bomb, which was completely outside her sphere of knowledge, her mind was disturbingly vacant and her body numb.
"Can you imagine?" Alex's voice was a huge welcome to the numb Latina, like a lifeline, reminding her of her surroundings and that she wasn't alone in their current predicament. "What she stick her hand in there for anyway?" he sounded sardonic, but Celia knew that it was Alex's method of coping, and that he, like her, was completely out of his element, and therefore, frightened.
Like her person, Celia applied her respective method of coping: callousness, but brutal honesty. "Her stupidity benefited us. It's saving lives."
Alex snorted and reached out for her hand, squeezing it. Smiling softly, the Latina squeezed back, providing both of them the comfort they desperately needed. Alex's presence helped activate her mind as a small voice whispered cruelly, 'let's hope Hannah is brave as well, otherwise it would render her moment of stupidity useless…' and wasn't that a terrifying thought…
The door opened suddenly, snapping Celia and Alex into attention, and Burke stepped outside, his expression grim. His eyes flickered between the two interns and then downward to their interlaced hands, and Celia deeply suspected that the arrival of her superior, coupled with the need to be active brought back a sense of professionalism in her, "What do we do know?" Hah! Take that Derek Shepherd; almost instantaneously, she mentally facepalmed herself – she shouldn't be thinking of McDouchey, not now, and not ever, especially after imparting her with such cruel and hateful words.
"I go back in and wait for the bomb squad. You leave. You all leave," Burke's authoritative words were directed at his entire surgical team, all of whom had been pacing the hallway ever since the Latina carried out the Attending's previous orders.
Nearly all of them obeyed, but a few stood their ground. Alex had actually taken a few steps toward the elevator when he realized that Celia wasn't by his side. Turning around, hazel orbs shone imploringly at her, though a hint of resignation could be detected, "CeCe, you coming?"
And like an echo, Meredith's voice resounded in the recess of her mind: I have a feeling.
Celia felt like Meredith's ominous prediction was her responsibility. Nine-year-old Celia was defenseless to stop the imminent death from occurring, but maybe – hopefully! – twenty-six-year-old Celia would have better luck.
"I can't," she whispered. Alex took a step toward her and meshed their hands together, "Celia, please. You're my best friend, my first friend, I can't-, I can't lose you."
The Latina smiled brightly, "You won't. I just can't leave, I can't."
"I'll stay with you the-"
"No!" she hastily interjected, eyes wide with fear, she couldn't let Alex die on her watch. She didn't think she could survive watching another loved one die right before her very eyes. "No. I need you to take care of the others for me. Stop them from doing anything stupid, like coming up here. You hear me?" More resigned than ever, knowing that against Celia's stubbornness, he'd lose, Alex glumly nodded and after parting Celia with a tight embrace, he departed.
Sucking in a deep breath, Celia collected her bearings and turned to confront Burke, who had been intently watching the affectionate dynamic between the two interns with interest. "You need a surgical team, Dr. Burke. Once, once it's out, you'll need to have a team in place."
Unable to argue with the logic of her statement, Burke nodded, "Fine. But you wait by the elevator. I don't want anybody in here that doesn't need to be in this OR. When the bomb squad arrives we'll take it from there. Until then Milton and I are doing this alone. Now, go."
Celia wanted to argue, having a bad feeling about Milton; his strong reaction regarding the live unexploded ammunition in Mr. Carlson left the Latina with a bitter aftertaste and she didn't trust Hannah – the poor girl could die, and Celia didn't feel comfortable referring to her with condescending names – or the patient with the senior anesthesiologist. Unfortunately, whenever Burke used that damn tone that brooked no argument, Celia was faced with no other choice but to obey and she grudgingly followed the three remaining members of the surgical team toward the elevator.
Seconds… minutes… hours…
Celia didn't know how long she paced in dizzying circles by the elevator trying to settle her nerves and think of a solution to the dreary situation, when the elevator doors slid open and the bomb squad, all clad in black, stepped out, a handsome dark-haired and dark-eyed man with an olive complexion, pronounced cheekbones and a stern 'I-don't-take-shit-from-anyone' expression that kind of reminded her of Bailey, in the lead.
As though driven by a magnetic force, the leader's dark gaze collided with Celia. He swiftly assessed her before speaking in a gruff voice, "You're the surgical team?"
"Yes," Celia curtly nodded.
The leader introduced himself, pragmatic and to the point, "Dylan Young, bomb squad." He then addressed his squad, and Celia instantly detected the qualities of a natural born leader and the mind of a tactician, just by hearing the way he spoke and the obedience and respect that colored his squad's features, "All right, spread out and check the area and then we'll secure the patient." He turned back to Celia, "Where are they?"
She pointed to the OR down the hall, "Dr. Burke has them in there." She then proceeded to assure Dylan that the entire floor had been evacuated. Instructing them to remain by the elevator was interrupted by a member of his squad, "We've got people over here!"
"What?" Celia gasped, her heart beating violently against her ribcage, for she instantly deduced who it could be: other than Mr. Carlson, Bailey's husband had been scheduled for surgery at the exact same time, diagnosed with a depressed skull fracture and epidural hematoma that strictly fell under neuro, in other terms, Derek Shepherd's domain, and the surgical interns on the case were–
Dylan snapped his furious gaze toward Celia, ready to rebuke her, but upon seeing the look of stark fear on her face, he redirected his attention toward his squad, ordering them to evacuate the premises. Naturally, Celia should have known her two persons didn't take well to being ordered around by some stranger and their curiosity wouldn't allow them to drop the subject. Cristina and Meredith were both blocking a member of Dylan's squad from entering the OR.
"Back up!" Cristina hissed at the squad member. Meredith nodded almost too innocently, and jutted her chin toward the Korean as she addressed the guy, "I'd listen to her. She will hurt you."
Rolling her eyes, Celia bypassed the irate Dylan and rushed over to confront her twisted friends, "Meredith, Cristina, you need to leave."
"What's going on?" Meredith demanded, holding her chocolate orbs with her striking green gaze, a clear warning that her best friend would not tolerate any lies. Sighing in defeat – Wow! That must've been how Alex felt. Respect to the guy, seriously. – Celia briskly revealed, "Bomb in a body cavity."
In a very Cristina-esque manner, she groaned, "Man. All I got is Bailey's husband's open brain." Simultaneously, them being on the same wavelength, the twisted sisters smacked Cristina on an arm each, neither of them seeing what exactly was so lucky about a bomb.
"Excuse me," the stern and snappish sound that Celia, even with her back turned, identified to belong to Dylan, cut into their conversation. The three interns whipped around to face him, his expression anything but amused, "Stop talking!" and without further ado, he shouldered past Cristina and Meredith and barged into Derek's OR.
Celia, Meredith and Cristina remained at a perfectly good hearing range as the leader of the bomb squad and the Head of Neuro argued with one another.
"Dr. Shepherd there's an explosive device in the OR next door. I need you to evacuate now."
Celia snorted, like that's gonna happen. Unseen to the Latina, Dylan's composed façade twitched, having heard her.
"Yeah and I've got a guy who's brain is exposed on this table," came the immediate retort. "I'm not going to walk away and leave him to die. The rest of you can go," he addressed his surgical team. And mirroring Burke's team, the majority tucked tail and scampered off.
Dylan was not a happy camper. "You close him up. You do whatever you have to do. The Chief of Surgery has authorized to tell me you cannot stay here."
Meredith leaned forward to whisper in Celia and Cristina's ears, "Fat chance of that happening. The Nazi is definitely scarier than the Chief." And backing her comment up, Derek's voice could be heard loud and clear, his decision unwavering, "The Chief of Surgery doesn't scare me. Dr. Bailey scares me. I'm not going to be the one to let her husband die. And that's what would happen if I put his skull flap on in this condition. Bomb or no bomb. Now get out of my OR."
Frustrated, Dylan slammed the door shut and the three interns avoided his gaze.
Celia was grateful for Meredith and Cristina, both of whom remained by her side and kept her company, keeping their silence while she rehashed the entire grueling confrontation that occurred between her and Derek after he caught her and Kane in the on-call room. She could practically feel the apoplectic rage radiating from them on either side of her, but they faithfully dropped the subject, knowing that Celia didn't want to linger longer than needed to be on the heartbreak she would never admit to.
Meredith changed the subject, her eyes darkened with fury and her tone neutral as she commented on Mr. Carlson's scans that Burke and Dylan were conversing over in the X-ray Room. "So how are they going to remove that ammo without killing Hannah and James?" she pondered aloud, and it worked, as Celia's brain went into overdrive, her acute gaze studying the scans from afar in hopes of locating a beneficial solution for all of them.
Taking note of Cristina's unusual silence, the Latina tore her gaze from the scans and searched for her, only to find her stealthily making her way down the corridor. "Cristina!" she hissed, making her way over to the Korean with Meredith hot on her heels. "The bomb squad guy said you're supposed to stay away from there!"
Peering into the OR through the window on the door, Cristina sucked in a sharp intake of breath, "Dr. Milton ditched!"
"Oh my God!" Celia gasped, eyes wide; Hannah's entire form was shaking with fear, tears rapidly streaming down her face as she squeezed the ambu bag by herself and tried to keep her hand steady on the live ammo. "I knew that jackass would leave! I should've trusted my instincts!" The Latina swore to herself and didn't even hesitate to barge into the room, joining a pale and hysterical Hannah's side.
Meredith, having had more time to endear herself to the young paramedic before she got transferred to Shepherd's service, calmly addressed her, "Hannah, where's the anesthesiologist?"
"He um… he left. He didn't want to die. Said something about p-pink mist," Hannah cried out.
Cristina stood rooted to the door, staring at Hannah with wide eyes while Meredith stood before the patient, eyes never leaving the skittish paramedic. Celia on the other hand, cautiously made her way around Mr. Carlson and approached Hannah, treating her as if she were a caged animal and any hasty movement would terrify her and make her scamper off. Alarm bells were ringing in the Latina's head; Hannah needed to calm down or they could all end up dead – pun intended.
"Hannah," Meredith made another attempt, but the paramedic wasn't listening, too absorbed in her current predicament. "I think I'm going to take my hand out now," but the girl was talking to herself, convincing herself to let go of the bomb, her surroundings and the three interns watching on in horror completely unnoticed by her.
Celia and Meredith joined forces, imparting soothing words to Hannah in an attempt to keep her hand in place. Cristina however, didn't have much faith in the skittish girl – ahem, not that Celia did either – and yelled loudly in the hopes of gaining Burke and Dylan's attention, "Hey, somebody help! Help here!"
The last thing Dylan and Burke expected when they stormed into the OR was to see a frantic Cristina pumping the ambu bag, Meredith by her side as she attempted to calm Hannah down and Celia, staunchly beside Hannah, her hand hovering over Mr. Carlson's gaping wound in case Hannah ripped her hand off.
"I-I think I'm going to take it out now," Hannah stuttered. Celia lowered her hand, her palm almost brushing the paramedic's wrist.
"Hannah, you can do this. Listen to me, we'll get through this together, we're almost to the finish line. You can do this." That's what Celia said. Her mind however, screamed in a shrill voice: she's gonna abort! She can't do this! The bomb's gonna explode any minute now!
Crying hysterically, Hannah frantically shook her head, her vision blurred with tears. "No, no. No, I just want to take it out and be done with it."
Burke stepped in, his gaze flickering in worriment from Cristina to Hannah, and Celia didn't need to be a telepathic to know that the Attending was terrified for his girlfriend's life as the Korean was in close proximity to a freaking bomb. "Hannah. It won't be much longer. Remember you're keeping him from bleeding out," he soothingly informed her, the soft tone in which he spoke resembling a doting parent's when talking to their child.
Oh, no pressure, though, a snarky voice echoed in Celia's head.
"She's panicking," Dylan addressed Burke, his calm exterior cracking at the conundrum. "We need to clear the room."
"I'm not leaving!" Meredith stubbornly snapped.
"Yes, you are. So help me Meredith Grey if you don't leave I'll drag you out of this room kicking and screaming and Cristina'll help me!" Celia glowered at her best friend; like hell would her sister die on her today. Cristina nodded in wholehearted agreement, "I will."
Dylan turned to Burke, his tone urgent, "Get everyone out now, Dr. Burke."
What happened next, Celia likened it to the effects of Pandora's Box. The jar opened up at that exact moment, and all the evils flew out, affecting everyone within reach and causing a tumultuous discord in the OR. Dylan began shouting at the top of his lungs, both him and Burke trying to express as much authority in their tone, demanding that the three interns leave posthaste. Hannah was literally screaming to herself, under pressure and terrified, evoked by Dr. Milton's lengthy and colorful description of 'pink mist', her hand slowly inching out of Mr. Carlson's gaping wound. Celia ignored the screaming match revolving around her and fixated her entire attention on the young paramedic, everything moving in slow motion, like it did in the movies before all hell broke loose, her words of comfort going completely ignored.
And then suddenly, Hannah screamed so loud, "I HAVE TO! I HAVE TO!" that the effects of Pandora's Box retreated back into the jar, all eyes on the paramedic as her hand, in the blink of an eye, was pulled out.
Burke, Dylan and Cristina, as though rehearsed beforehand, ducked, hitting the ground and waiting for the inevitable explosion, Burke's entire form shielding Cristina's. Hannah's footsteps echoed loudly in the OR as she scampered off as though the hounds of hell were on her trail, only a bloody handprint left on the wall as evidence of her presence. Only Meredith stood rooted to her spot, tears welling in her eyes and alarm bells ringing in her eardrums as she stared at her sister in utmost horror.
"What did you do?" the dirty-blonde, green-eyed intern whispered in an ominous hush. Her words, coupled with the lack of explosion prompting the three on the ground to slowly get onto their feet, all three of them having an identical expression of horror as Meredith as they stared wide-eyed at the Latina.
Celia, for her part, acted wholly on instinct. The moment Hannah made her decision, in slow motion, Celia recognized the determination on her sister's face and her resolute movement, fully prepared to take Hannah's place, and she couldn't allow it to happen, so she beat her to the punch, her hand easily sliding into the gaping wound like it belonged there. Meredith would not die on her watch!
Rendered speechless and accepting Meredith's prediction, Celia kept a steady hand on the live ammunition, Meredith's tearful words resonating in the room like a broken record, "What did you do? What did you do, Celia? What did you do?"
To Be Continued…
A/N: I apologize for the long wait! I'll have the next chapter out by the end of next week – hopefully!
I don't really have much to say, other than, I'm sorry about Derek. Honestly, it killed me to portray him in such a harsh light and have him say those un-Derek-like words to Celia. To those who watched Season 5: Remember the pregnant patient that died in Derek's OR? The one with the tumor? Remember how he isolated himself in his trailer and was a complete ass to Meredith? How he tossed the engagement ring with a baseball bat? Yeah?...well, I took inspiration from that scene. When Derek's angry (more like furious!) he's VERY mean and he sometimes says things he doesn't mean and would later come to regret. I portrayed that part of his character in this chapter. Maybe I made him too OOC but hey, this is a fanfiction, and it was totally necessary for the progression of my story.
However, that's all gonna change next chapter… how do you think Derek's gonna feel when he finds out that Celia might die and he's the one who put her there? If he kept her on his service, then maybe she wouldn't be holding a bomb. Right?
Some of you may be pissed 'cause Celia totally stole Meredith's moment… I dunno. Like I mentioned before, Celia won't always steal Meredith's thunder, but in this case it had to happen. You see, Celia is VERY protective of Meredith, and like hell would she allow her twisted sister to hold a damn bomb. In canon, while Meredith had Cristina, their relationship at that point had yet to be close as in: I'd take a bullet for you. It's still too early. But Meredith here, in my story, has a family: Celia. And like an overprotective sibling, Celia wouldn't allow her to place herself in jeopardy. But don't worry, Meredith will have a huge role, it's close around the corner, especially when Season 3 comes around, ;)!
I was thinking of keeping Alex in the OR floor. I was really tempted to have him stick by Celia's side, and therefore, the twisted interns would all be together in the same place, but then I thought of how Alex and Izzie had sex and fixed their relationship and decided it needed to happen for the sake of the future chapters.
Did you enjoy the small flashback? Next chapter, I'll have another one to those that are interested.
And one last note… did you enjoy the scenes with Kane Greene? The beginning scene, I wanted to show how he differs from Derek, and how his dynamic with Celia is (and no, they are not a couple or in love. I'm thinking of making their relationship similar to Mark's & Callie's, what do you think?). Also, I wanted to show Celia get along with Izzie and George since I haven't written much about them. Was the sex scene too much? This is M Rated, so I hope you enjoyed it! XD
Spoiler: Dylan goodies next chapter. I have plans for him! ;)
R&R.