He didn't want to face her, not now. He knew that she was the one behind
him, no one else would come looking for him. He stared out into the city
below him, watching the passers by go on with their lives, the dull grey
and black of city streets, the drab colours, and the grey sky above him
echoed his mood. He was feeling stormy, and hurt, and alone. He didn't want
to be alone, but he didn't want her company either, he didn't want to see
her, not now.
She had hurt him, deeper than he thought it would hurt. He knew better than to expect her to open up to him, but he had expected a tad bit more from her, not outright saying that she didn't think anybody in the hospital up to par, including him. And then he had flat out told her how he felt. He had been angry, but he knew what he said, even if it came out in a rush. He knew what he said more this time than he had the last time he said it to her.
He felt the snow starting to fall, but he didn't mind, even though he wasn't wearing a coat. He always thought the varying Chicago weather to be great, it kept him on his toes, but now he was starting to hate it, the little bit that was left of his arm hurt whenever the weather was bad, and the cold didn't help things. He just kept staring out over the roof at the city skyline. He could just barely see the lake, or the shore of it at least.
"Robert-"He ignored the voice. He knew he was overreacting, but he didn't care. He had done so much for her, he had asked for nothing in return, but yet he still felt so hurt. The last thing that he had left was leaving, and he lost one of his last hopes to keep her near him. She was the last thing that he had to hold on to, she was the last stable thing in his life. His career, the only other thing he had, the thing that he had poured his life into had wasted away along with his arm. He had no hope of going back to surgery, he had no hope of being a halfway decent doctor ever again.
"Go away." He said again. He felt her come closer to him, she was standing behind him, and he was all too aware of their proximity. He had come so close to telling her back in her office, telling her gently, calmly, hoping things would work out better. Instead he had said them at the end of an angry stream of a tirade, a response to the one that she had just spat at him. He knew now that she didn't want him, he didn't care what she thought of him anymore.
"Robert, listen to me." She told him, but still, his back was turned, he kept staring out into the city. He was purposely being cold to her, he wanted her to know that he was hurting. He knew that he shouldn't be giving her the silent treatment, that it was childish and silly, but he didn't care. "Fine, stay up here for as long as you want, I don't care. I'm not going to spend my last three days in Chicago trying to argue with someone who's acting like a two year old."
He heard her retreat, but he didn't hear the ding of the elevator opening, or the sound of the door to the stairs being opened. He knew that she was still there, just not right behind him anymore. He knew that he had hurt her as well, that the comment about Dorsett had been underhanded and mean, but she had been just as wrong to say that, knowing that he had been trying to side with her, help her, get her to notice him as a person, a real human, not just the evil boss, the scourge of the ER.
He finally turned around, and looked at her. She had taken up the same pose he had just been in, on the other side of the roof. He walked over to the elevator and made sure that the elevator gave it's telltale ding, announcing it's arrival. If she wanted to talk, he'd listen, but she'd have to come to him, she'd have to make the effort. He watched her for a long minute, holding the door open button as he waited to see what she would do. She turned and looked at him, met his gaze before she walked over to the elevator with him.
She had hurt him, deeper than he thought it would hurt. He knew better than to expect her to open up to him, but he had expected a tad bit more from her, not outright saying that she didn't think anybody in the hospital up to par, including him. And then he had flat out told her how he felt. He had been angry, but he knew what he said, even if it came out in a rush. He knew what he said more this time than he had the last time he said it to her.
He felt the snow starting to fall, but he didn't mind, even though he wasn't wearing a coat. He always thought the varying Chicago weather to be great, it kept him on his toes, but now he was starting to hate it, the little bit that was left of his arm hurt whenever the weather was bad, and the cold didn't help things. He just kept staring out over the roof at the city skyline. He could just barely see the lake, or the shore of it at least.
"Robert-"He ignored the voice. He knew he was overreacting, but he didn't care. He had done so much for her, he had asked for nothing in return, but yet he still felt so hurt. The last thing that he had left was leaving, and he lost one of his last hopes to keep her near him. She was the last thing that he had to hold on to, she was the last stable thing in his life. His career, the only other thing he had, the thing that he had poured his life into had wasted away along with his arm. He had no hope of going back to surgery, he had no hope of being a halfway decent doctor ever again.
"Go away." He said again. He felt her come closer to him, she was standing behind him, and he was all too aware of their proximity. He had come so close to telling her back in her office, telling her gently, calmly, hoping things would work out better. Instead he had said them at the end of an angry stream of a tirade, a response to the one that she had just spat at him. He knew now that she didn't want him, he didn't care what she thought of him anymore.
"Robert, listen to me." She told him, but still, his back was turned, he kept staring out into the city. He was purposely being cold to her, he wanted her to know that he was hurting. He knew that he shouldn't be giving her the silent treatment, that it was childish and silly, but he didn't care. "Fine, stay up here for as long as you want, I don't care. I'm not going to spend my last three days in Chicago trying to argue with someone who's acting like a two year old."
He heard her retreat, but he didn't hear the ding of the elevator opening, or the sound of the door to the stairs being opened. He knew that she was still there, just not right behind him anymore. He knew that he had hurt her as well, that the comment about Dorsett had been underhanded and mean, but she had been just as wrong to say that, knowing that he had been trying to side with her, help her, get her to notice him as a person, a real human, not just the evil boss, the scourge of the ER.
He finally turned around, and looked at her. She had taken up the same pose he had just been in, on the other side of the roof. He walked over to the elevator and made sure that the elevator gave it's telltale ding, announcing it's arrival. If she wanted to talk, he'd listen, but she'd have to come to him, she'd have to make the effort. He watched her for a long minute, holding the door open button as he waited to see what she would do. She turned and looked at him, met his gaze before she walked over to the elevator with him.