A/N: Whew. So, there is a lot in this. Again. Hope you enjoy :D
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The first day at a new job always felt like the first day of school for April. She picked out her outfit the night before, carefully laying it on the chair beside her bed to keep it nice and unwrinkled. She set her alarm thirty minutes earlier than needed to ensure that any unanticipated snoozes wouldn't get her off track. She ate a nutritious breakfast and drank the necessary glass of milk. All that was missing were her parents snapping pictures as she left the house, cooing, "Our little April is all grown up!"
She fidgeted with her skirt when she walked into Seattle's Women Clinic. She wasn't used to wearing anything besides scrubs at work, and she struggled the night before to choose something appropriate. Her one skirt seemed too short, while another was too dowdy. Picking out a blouse was an absolute nightmare. She ended up just going up to Jackson and saying, "Pick something that makes me look professional and easy to like."
The clinic was small, but she still had trouble finding HR. After a few wrong turns she found herself at the office and walked in to get her ID and further instructions. She walked up to the front desk and a woman with hair dyed one color too dark for her skin-tone smiled up at her.
"Can I help you?"
"My name's April Kepner," she said. "I'm new. Just starting today."
"Yes," the woman said quickly, beginning to type on the keyboard. "They told me about you. Let's see." She made one last grandiose keystroke and then opened one of the drawers, pulling out a small box. When she flipped open the lid, April saw it was filled with IDs.
"And here we are," she said, handing over the ID. "You're over at suite 108. They'll be able to fill you in more over there."
"Alright, thank you."
April walked out and took a quick picture of her ID and sent it to Jackson before fastening it on her shirt. Taking a deep breath, she headed toward suite 108.
Jackson's phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket, smiling to himself when he saw the picture April sent him.
"Anything good?" Izzie asked, watching him.
Jackson showed her the picture and said, "She's all excited that for once she doesn't have a bad ID photo."
Izzie laughed. "A good ID photo? I didn't know those existed. She's doing well over there, then?"
He nodded, putting the phone back in his pocket. "I think. I mean, today's just her first day, so…"
"Was she nervous?"
Jackson chuckled, remembering how she had rushed into the living room the night before and insisted he picked out her first-day-outfit. "She definitely wasn't calm. April doesn't exactly manage change well. She's excited, though. I think she'll really be able to shine there. Come into her own." His beeper went off and he glanced down at his waistband. "It's Sloan. I gotta go."
"Sure. Keep me updated about April, though. She's still one of us. Even if she's not here." Izzie said.
Jackson smiled a bit and said, "I will."
Jackson went over to Mark in the pit and said, "You paged me. What do we have?"
"It's what do we not have," Mark returned. "And that's Rocky Road ice cream."
Jackson looked at him strangely. "Rocky road ice cream?"
Sloan nodded. "That's right. Rocky road ice cream." He pulled his wallet out and plucked out a five dollar bill. "There's a 7-11 about a block north from here. Pick up a butter pecan while you're there, too."
"You're having me pick up Lexie's pregnancy craving food, aren't you?"
"This is very important stuff, Avery," Mark said. "The most important, really, if you think about. it It's the very creation of life. What could be more important than that?"
"You're definitely having me pick up pregnancy craving food," Jackson deadpanned. "Isn't this scuttle work? For interns?"
"I don't trust the interns," Mark said. "They all look shifty this year. Besides, think of this as a lesson."
"A lesson? You're making me pick up ice cream for you and your pregnant girlfriend. You can't Miyagi your way out of this."
"It's a life lesson," Mark continued. "To respect the circle of life. The-"
"Just give me the five dollars," Jackson interrupted, extending his hand. Mark broke into a wide grin and handed the money over.
"'Atta boy. Now, don't forget the butter pecan."
"Yeah yeah," Jackson said, shaking his head. "I'll be back in ten."
Mark watched Jackson walk off with a bemused grin. Derek stepped up beside him and asked, "Did I just hear you say to not forget the butter pecan?"
"Yes, Derek, you did." When Derek laughed, shaking his head, Mark said, "Priorities, my friend."
"Yeah, you clearly don't have them."
"I'm taking care of my woman," Mark returned. "Like you wouldn't do the same for Meredith."
Derek laughed, nudging Mark in the arm with his chart. "I need to attend to my patients. Don't you plastics guys have any of those?"
The first few hours at the clinic were a rush of patients and introductions. Every face was a new one, and April found herself struggling to keep up. They were nice, though. They touched her arm and offered warm grins – even when she forgot their name for the first, second or third time. She thought of her first days at Seattle Grace, and how markedly different this was. No hostility. No competition. They seemed generally happy for her to be there and to help.
"Dr. Kepner?"
She turned around and faced a male doctor who was looking at her expectantly. She winced slightly and said, "Yes…I'm sorry, I can't remember your name. I've been meeting people all day and-"
"Relax, you haven't met me yet," he said, chuckling. April flushed while he extended his hand. "I'm Michael Reeser. I just started here a few weeks ago, so I'm fairly new, too."
She shook his hand and said, "I'm April Kepner. But, uh, you already knew that. Because you said my name earlier."
He chuckled again, dimples pressed deep into his cheeks. "The first day's tough. It's like high school all again, isn't it? Trying to get to know the right people. Figuring out your locker. Where do you sit in the cafeteria?"
"I have absolutely no idea," she said, dissolving into laughter. As ridiculous as it sounded, those were the exact worries she had been having.
"It's not the patients or medicine that make you nervous, right? It's all the other stuff."
"The stuff that doesn't matter," April answered, finding herself feeling a bit silly for being so hung up on it all.
"Well, so it goes," Michael said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. "Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. Wish you luck on your first day."
"Thanks."
"And by the way, you can totally sit with me at lunch," he added. "I can't say I'm the cool table, but people don't avert their eyes when the pass. So, make of that what you will."
She grinned. "Thanks. I might take you up on that."
Jackson came back with the ice cream just as a trauma went through the ER. He felt the usual rush, spreading from his chest to his finger tips, and he walked quickly to the doctor's lounge and tossed the ice cream in the freezer. Lexie's pregnancy cravings could wait – there were things to cut.
Cristina was predictably already in action when he returned, her hands pressing down on a gaping wound in the guy's chest. Burke was behind her, loudly calling for the orderlies to get an OR ready immediately.
"What happened?" Jackson asked a nearby nurse. She shook her head, moving forward.
"We need all hands on deck," Owen said, coming out into the pit. "There was a bridge collapse over at Kirby and 6th. We have a lot of injuries coming in, so let's be prepared. This is what we trained for."
Jackson flexed his hands, preparing himself for the patients that were about to come through the doors. He counted silently to himself.
One.
Two.
Three.
The doors opened.
The most inopportune time for a tremor to occur would be when you are elbows deep in a patient. Preston Burke was always elbow-deep-in patients so it had become a latent worry. One always there since the tremors had emerged a few months back, but he had it under control. He did the exercises at night, squeezing that damned ball over and over to retain the strength in his hand. He practiced sutures on bananas and oranges to keep himself nimble between surgeries.
There had a been a few close calls. It didn't happen often, but they were enough to spook him. His hands were his career. His life. If he couldn't use them the way God intended-
But he had it under control. He knew the preceding signs. He could read them as easily as a book. The sudden stiffness of his arm. The tingle in his palm. It didn't always work, but sometimes he could stop it. He could step away before it showed. Before anyone saw.
Because he had it under control.
April found Michael during lunch. He sat at one of the back tables, some journal out on the table that he leafed through casually while he ate. She considered not approaching at first. Sure, he had offered her a table to sit at, but he was probably just being nice. She'd done stuff like that before when she wanted to be friendly, but a part of her always hoped the favor wouldn't be cashed in.
Ultimately, her desire to not eat alone won out. He smiled when she said hello, closing his journal.
"I see you're taking me up on the lunch offer."
"Well, the others didn't include reading material," she said, pointing to the medical journal. "So, really, it was a no brainer."
He grinned. "How's your first day going?"
"Really well. You know, you guys are nice. Like, really nice."
He laughed and said, "As opposed to the terrible people you thought we'd be?"
"It's just, you're genuinely nice. Everyone pretends to be nice and welcoming to newcomers, but you really mean it. Or at least you seem to."
"It's actually all an elaborate front," he returned. "The mean stares and hazing starts next week. They raided the anatomy lab for my hazing. Found lots of things in my locker that really didn't belong there."
"Oh, well that's comforting," she said, taking a bite of her sandwich.
"Nah, they really are nice here. It's weird and Mayberry-like, but it's not too bad. Better than the alternative, right?"
"You can say that again," April said, taking another bite of her sandwich.
"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."
April shrugged. "The last hospital I was at wasn't the most welcoming."
"Where were you at?"
"Seattle Grace."
He nodded and said, "Seems about right?"
"What does?"
"It not being welcoming," he said. "I've heard things about that hospital. Constant drama. Constant on-call-room hook-ups. They all act like they're on an episode of Melrose Place, or something."
"Not all of them," she said defensively. She went to refute further when she realized that all of her friends back there had done exactly what he said. Herself included. "Anyway, Seattle Grace has some of the finest doctors."
Michael smiled slightly. "I struck a nerve, huh? I didn't mean to offend you."
"They're good people," she said. "Even with the…other stuff. They're good, solid people."
"I'll take your word for it."
"You should."
She found herself missing them then. Yeah, they weren't the best behaved residents when they were together, but they had grown close. They survived the shooting and everything that came before and after. They were a family.
"It'll get easier," Michael said, noticing how her eyes had changed. She looked at him strangely and he said, "Missing them. I can see you were close with them. Just give it some time."
"I'm fine," she held.
Smirking a bit, he said, "Of course you are."
"Clamp," Burke said, glancing at the screen to see what him and Cristina were dealing with. The nurse handed him the clamp and he dove in, fixing a bleeder. "Can you feel the tear?"
Cristina nodded, already moving. "Yes, Dr. Burke. I feel it."
"Good. Then repair it, Dr. Yang."
She smiled slightly before her focus returned in full force. He always enjoyed watching her work. She had such focus. It reminded him of himself when he was a resident. Driven. Focused. Consumed. He lived and breathed surgery, and he could see that Cristina did, as well.
She did good work initially. The sutures were neat and clean. If he had seen them separately, he would have sworn it was his own handiwork. She moved on to address further damage in the area when the sutures broke open.
"Damn it," he said, quickly working to staunch the bleeding. The cavity filled with blood, and in a rush he barked out orders, putting Cristina on giving him a clear view as he took her place. The patient slipping away, this was not a moment to teach. This was a moment for action. For experience hands.
He barely noticed the tickle. He didn't notice the stiffness that spread through his arm as he worked quickly to staunch the bleeding and repair the damage. He was nearly finished with the repeat suture when his hand seized. It was minor – nothing like he had experienced before – but he feared what would come next. They came in series typically, and he stood frozen with the man's chest open before him.
Cristina noticed immediately and asked, "Dr. Burke, may I finish the suture?"
He looked at her and their eyes locked. It was a familiar game they were playing. The stepping in. The cover-up. Only this time, her eyes told him that she wouldn't be on his side. Her allegiances were elsewhere now.
"Let's see your work, Dr. Yang," Burke said, handing the forceps and needle driver to Cristina.
He observed for the rest of the surgery.
Four emergent patients later, Jackson was relieved to be in the doctor's lounge and off the floor. The rush of surgery was intoxicating, but this was one of those days where eating a donut in the doctor's lounge afterwards was just as rewarding.
Callie walked into the lounge, in search of coffee, and said, "Hey. Busy day, huh?"
"You can say that again."
"Where'd you get that donut and where can I get one?"
Jackson gestured toward the box of donuts on the counter and she padded over, pulling out one with chocolate frosting and sprinkles.
"Now this is the stuff," she said, licking some frosting off the top. "Who brought them?"
"Probably some drug rep."
"I love drug reps," Callie said emphatically. "Might be the best part of being a doctor." She took a bite of her donut. "Except for the whole saving lives thing."
Lexie walked into the doctor's lounge and went straight for the freezer. She made a small yelping sound when she pulled out the Rocky Road ice cream. Grinning wide, she pulled a spoon from the drawer and left. Jackson, who had been watching all of this in amazement, looked at Callie and said, "Did that really just happen?"
Callie nodded, sucking frosting from her finger. "Yep. Welcome to pregnancy, Avery."
"You have to tell Owen," Cristina said, standing beside Burke as they scrubbed out of the surgery.
"Cristina-"
"No, I thought you had it under control. I saw. But I thought…"
"You saw?" he said, glancing at her.
"I noticed," she remedied softly. "I saw you clenching and unclenching your hand. I know it's what you would do when you felt one coming on and…" she stepped away from the sink, drying her hands with a paper towel. "I should have said something. I shouldn't have kept it to myself."
"I have it under control," Burke said.
"You do?" Cristina asked harshly, gesturing toward the OR. "That in there? That was you having it in control?"
Burke tensed his jaw. "I had it in control."
"Tell Owen today," she said firmly. "What happened in there – it can't happen again. It can't, Preston."
The use of his first name caught him off guard and he nodded, rubbing at his jaw. "I know. I know it can't. I'll tell him."
"Today," she pressed.
"Yes, today. I'll tell him today."
April and Jackson arranged to meet at Joe's after his shift was over. He got there a few minutes early and grabbed a table near the bar.
"Hello stranger," she said from behind, putting her arms around his neck. He grinned, turning back toward her and reaching his face up to hers. She kissed him softly before settling on the seat across from him.
"So, tell me everything," he said, reaching forward and taking a hold of her hand. He'd taken for granted what it was like to be able to touch her anytime that he wanted. All day he'd been starved for her touch.
She launched into her stories of the day, going on about the people she met and patients she saw.
"I feel like I have a real place there," April said. "Which is weird, since I just started there. I mean, think about when we got to Seattle Grace. We had to fight just to get a locker."
"So, you like it there?" Jackson teased. The question was moot after her glowing remarks.
"I do. I…I'm happy. I didn't think I would be, but…"
"You are," he said softly. He squeezed her hand. "And nothing makes me happier."
"Anyway, what was your day like?"
Jackson shrugged. "A little trauma here. A little trauma there. The usual. Nothing major happened, really."
Owen walked over to Cristina, his eyes stormy. He grabbed her arm and said, "We need to talk."
A/N: Thoughts! I want to hear your thoughts!