Dawn slammed the door behind her as she entered the foyer, throwing her bag at the wall as she went. Items spilled from it, including her phone which fell the floor, shattering the screen. She dropped to her knees to assess the damage and, upon seeing the nearly unusable screen, she found tears welling in her eyes in spite of herself.
Hearing the consternation in the foyer, Emily came running, concerned. "Dawn?" she asked, concern only growing upon seeing her on the floor, heaving with sobs. She didn't ask if everything was alright, knew Dawn well enough to know that for something to elicit this kind of reaction, it most definitely was not alright...
Instead, she knelt down beside her and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, easing her into her chest so she could properly embrace her. The action only seemed to spur Dawn further into tears...and Emily herself had had enough breakdowns to recognize that she's clearly been holding this in for some time.
Waiting for the tears to subside to quiet hiccups, Emily murmured, "Go get changed."
Dawn pulled back from the embrace to fix her with a confused expression. "You... You aren't going to ask why I just fell apart over nothing?" she asked.
Emily shook her head. "I have a better idea," she said.
"A better idea?" Dawn repeated dubiously.
Emily pulled the car to a stop outside a rundown house on the outskirts of town, turned off the engine, then waited a moment for the inevitable questions.
"Where are we?" was the first question Dawn thought to ask, staring at the ramshackle house with trepidation.
"You'll see," Emily answered vaguely, getting out of the car without further answers, leaving her with no choice but to follow if she wanted them. Emily knocked on the door and it was almost immediately flung open by a grinning Derek Morgan.
"Welcome, ladies," he greeted, standing back to let them inside. He lead them further into the house, explaining (sort of), "It's right this way..."
Glancing at their surroundings, Emily couldn't resist remarking, "This place is a dump..."
Derek chuckled. "I know," he agreed, "It's biggest project I've taken on to date, but it was practically free, so I'm hoping it all balances out." He stopped in front of a blank wall that looked, in a word, dilapidated, then gestured to two sledgehammers leaning against it. "Have at 'er," he said. "I'll be in the yard if you need me."
And with that, he left them to their own devices.
Finally, Dawn seemed to find her voice again, turning to Emily with a quizzical expression. "What exactly are we doing here?"
Emily passed her a pair of safety goggles and a sledgehammer. "In my experience, the best cure for things that make you throw stuff at the wall is to hit something. Preferably someone's face, but a wall is a close second."
That seemed to be all the permission Dawn needed because in the next moment, she'd swung the sledgehammer with all her might, knocking an impressive dent into the drywall.
Little remained of the wall but dust when Emily finally asked, "Do you want to talk about it now?"
And, surprisingly, Dawn found that she did, in fact, want to talk about it. "A heart became available for Laila, then Dr. Rocca literally stopped the transplant to give it to that horrible man who's suing me."
"Shit..." Emily hissed. "That's..."
Dawn wasn't done talking, though. "Then, Laila died."
"Oh, Dawn..." Emily whispered, "I'm so sorry." She knew that, in spite of Dawn's typical efforts to keep her patients at arm's length, something about Laila Patterson and her foster daughter had gotten past her defenses. To have lost her on the same day when she'd very nearly been able to save her life had to be absolutely devastating.
Dawn shook her head. "It's my fault – I shouldn't have promised her the heart. I got her hopes up and, worse, I got her daughter's hopes up." Then, in a smaller voice, "I got my own hopes up."
Emily offered her a sympathetic smile. "I know you don't like to get close to your patients, but you're allowed to be upset when you lose someone," she reminded. "You're allowed to feel things." It had never been Dawn's strong suit...or her own, to be completely honest. Maybe that's why they got along so well as a couple: their shared reluctance to let down their walls, to let people get close. To let people truly see them.
"I know," she said, even if she didn't like it. "I just...is it wrong that part of me wishes I'd never let myself feel anything at all so that I wouldn't have to feel like this?"
"Do you really wish that?" Emily asked, having a feeling she already knew the answer.
She heaved a sigh. "No." A beat. "I know it's better to feel, it just seems like every time I open my heart just a little, it gets shattered." An errant tear escaped to spill down her cheek, leaving a trail through the dust there. Then, angry at herself for crying a second time, she smudged the tear away, further smearing the dust across her face.
"Do you at least feel a little better having knocked down the wall?"
It was an attempt to change the subject to allow her to save face – and they both knew it – but Dawn was thankful for it nonetheless. She shrugged. "Maybe a little," she admitted. "It's probably better than slapping one of my residents."
A beat.
"What?"
Dawn nodded sheepishly. "Not my finest moment," she confessed.
Emily tried to bite down on the laugh that wanted to come bubbling up, but wasn't entirely successful. "Maybe we need to schedule a regular demolition. It'll avoid more lawsuits."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "You think you're very clever, don't you?"
In spite of the eye roll, Emily leaned in to kiss her. "I do, in fact, think so," she murmured against her lips.