Cristina Yang sat alone in the hospital cafeteria, fiddling with the stethoscope that hung around her neck. I like to think that I'm pretty tough shit. she thought to herself. But this totally sucks without Burke.
Meredith pulled out the chair across from Cristina and put her own tray down. "Hey, Cristina."
"I still have no eyebrows," Cristina responded. It was her way of telling Meredith she was still thinking about Burke. Of course she was still thinking about Burke. She was entitled to be thinking about Burke. And there was, on top of it all, the eyebrow thing.
"They'll grow back," Meredith answered, thinking about more than just the eyebrows.
"I know. But it still sucks. I want more blood. I want surgeries, I want to fix people. It's been too quiet this week."
"You know what the Chief says about saying that," Meredith cautioned.
"You call it quiet," Cristina started.
"And we will be overwhelmed," they finished together.
"What are we overwhelmed with?" Izzie asked, pulling a chair up.
"Quiet," Cristina said. "We're overwhelmed with quiet. And quiet doesn't make my eyebrows grow back, I don't know if you noticed."
"I'm…sorry?" Izzie stuttered.
"Don't mind her," Meredith interjected. "She's having a crappy day."
"I am not having a crappy day," Cristina insisted. "I'm having a crappy life, all around. Do you know what a pain it is to draw these things in every day?"
"I love you, Cristina!" Meredith chirped, running around the table to give her friend a hug.
"God," Cristina laughed, "what's got you all, Ms. Chipper?"
"I'm trying to turn a new leaf, be more positive, look at the brighter side…"
"Again?" Cristina interrupted.
Meredith raised an eyebrow. "Thanks a lot!"
Izzie, pretty much trapped in the middle, wrapped up the rest of the food and chucked her tray in the trash. "I've got to get back, I'm covering the ER today."
"See you at home?" Meredith asked.
"Sure," Izzie replied, already moving away.
The ER was dead. Not just slow dead, but literally dustballs blowing in the breeze of the deadness dead. Izzie leaned back on the nurse's station, pondering the conversation in the cafeteria. What was it they said? When you say it's quiet, you get overwhelmed? God, overwhelm me. Please. That would rock. 'Cause I'm so underwhelmed…"
"Dr. Stevens? We have a severe car accident victim en route, ETA five minutes."
Izzie was already pulling on exam gloves and heading for the ambulance bay. "What are the stats?"
The nurse was furiously scribbling the incoming message. "Vitals are 80/38, heart rate is 40," she called out. "Respirations are a 5 and labored, so the patient was intubated in the field before transport. 4 on the Glasgow scale."
Izzie snapped her gloves, ready for action. The ambulance screamed into the bay, lights blazing, and Izzie hopped up to bring the stretcher down with the medics. Her adrenaline pumping, Izzie was certain that today she would save another life. The stretcher came down onto the ground in the light of the bay, and time suddenly stopped for Izzie. It took her several seconds to realize that she wasn't breathing.
"Oh. My. God," she whispered, before running through the doors and yelling for a trauma room.
Izzie had to save a life today. Izzie had to save this life, because there was no other option. As much as she hated the whole thing, as much as she thought that George had made a mistake…Callie Torres-O'Malley really didn't deserve to die.