章節 37: 37. Aftermath
The dictionary defines grief as keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.
-Meredith Grey
Day One
Perhaps it was the icy rain or what she knew was coming or even the soldier's blood in her veins, but she felt herself harden like stone, unfeeling and numb. No one spoke to her as they formed a line. The Chief of the fire department stood at the front of the line as officers saluted, standing still as statues.
She watched as they brought out his body. He didn't look any different, just paler and grey. They covered his chest with his jacket and crossed his hands on his abdomen. And when he reached her where she stood at the ambulance, she half-expected him to wake up with a smile. But he didn't and they loaded him into the ambulance. Climbing into the ambulance, she clenched her jaw, feeling her blood-soaked scrubs unstick and re-stick to her skin. The ambulance ride was quiet as all she could see was his pale face and golden ring.
"I love you." Her voice faded out, holding his cold hand and closing her eyes, unable to look at him any longer. "Take care of my kid, okay? Promise." She didn't receive an answer although she expected one. She let his hand drop. Digging her face into her hands, sobs wracked her body
.
When the ambulance rolled to a stop, she didn't move. Not even when the paramedics opened the doors and urged her to come out. "Dr. Moore, come on. You need to go to the-"
"Clinic. I know," she whispered softly and stood almost on robot. The pain had now lessened to a dull throb and when she brushed her fingers against the fabric, she cringed. Bringing them up, she saw the red smudges against her skin as the paramedic held up a hand for her. Using the non-bloodied hand, she clasped it in his and exited the ambulance.
"Will you be good from here on?" he asked uncertainty laced in his voice after he helped her to the hallway that led to the clinic. She stared up at him and found that he was a mix of afraid and sympathetic as she nodded.
"Yeah," she said after a moment and he rubbed her arm before turning around and walking away. Making sure he was gone, she continued on towards the clinic where the nurse behind her looked up.
"I'll get you to your room," she murmured. Clearly she knew already. Nodding numbly, Emily just followed. "Is there anyone we can call?"
"To- Taylor," she corrected, clawed into pieces as the woman nodded. "And my brother, please. Please get my brother."
"Of course."
.
"Slowly," Noah murmured as he held her hand. Taylor held onto her other one as she slid down into the wheelchair. Although it wasn't necessary, Noah had insisted for maximum comfort and she didn't bother to argue. She had no energy to so she had simply obeyed his instructions to bath and change. "Better?"
She nodded, trance-like.
"Then we have to go tell Ella," Noah murmured, taking up the position to push the wheelchair as Taylor nodded. He crouched in front of his friend, wincing at how empty her hazel eyes were. The life and energy that used to inhabit those two gems were now diminished, giving no sign that they were ever there in the first place.
"I'll be right back, okay? I just have to go tell the Chief what happened." Another nod. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before standing up. "Update me on anything," he muttered to the elder Moore and he nodded.
"Of course."
Pushing the wheelchair past the blond, the siblings continued to the main lobby where Ella was pacing back and forth in her outdoor clothes. When the wife-now-widow heard the rolling of wheels, she looked up in relief.
"Thank god you're here, Dr. Moore. I can't seem to reach Tom anywhere," the woman exclaimed as she recalled again. "It just goes straight to voicemail, I can't - Em? What happened?" Then did the surgeon realize her friend was in a wheelchair. Emily raised her head, staring blankly at Ella as Noah asked her to sit down. Everything was muffled and blurry, tears unknowingly spilling over her cheeks as the head of peds sat beside his younger co-worker.
"Ella, this is going to be hard for you," he began, "I know, it will be. There's been an incident." Those were the first words they taught you to say to an unsuspecting family member. Then, an explanation. "Tom went to the scene of the building collapse." Noah wouldn't shine a bad light on him in the wake of his death, Emily knew that. He would exclude the part where they went against his orders. Where she killed him. "The ceiling collapsed and-"
"What?" Ella's voice was high-pitched with fear, denial, anger. "Why was he in the building? I thought you guys were only there for triage."
"We were, but-" Noah glanced at his sister and Ella followed his gaze. The wheelchair bound surgeon had yet to say anything or even look up.
"What happened, Em? Where is my husband?"
She inhaled shakily, finally looking up at the widow. Everything played behind her eyes - the pain, how still he was under her touch. How dark the sky was as if heaven itself was mourning. But heaven didn't exist. No god would do this. No god was this cruel.
"Tom is dead."
Day Two
She thought it was a nightmare. One that was very long, one that would be a relief to wake up from but when Harper Avery went to her to ask if Tom was an organ donor, she knew it was real. Why else would the surgeon be standing in her room?
"I'd ask the family but they couldn't decide. And Dr. Morgan… as you know-" is nowhere to be found, Emily finished dully. Her laptop was open to the building collapse on the news. Looking at the surgeon, she shrugged.
"Donate his organs," she decided simply and he gave her time to reconsider. "I'm sure," she repeated firmly but softly. Her eyes drifted back to the laptop screen.
Building Collapse in Downtown Boston: 20+ Casualties
Massachusetts General loses one of their own in a devastating incident. Click here for more
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Before dinner, she heard Noah lock himself in the bathroom. For a while, she ignored it until thirty minutes later he had yet to come out. Excusing herself from the dinner table and her untouched meal, she put her plate on the counter and stood in front of the door.
"Noah," she said, voice hoarse from disuse. She had barely spoken five words since Harper came in. When there was no response, she knocked. "Open the damn door." Banging her fist against the wood, she winced when her abdomen ached. Placing a hand against the flat of her stomach, she sighed. "Noah!"
Finally, the door clicked and unlocked. Noah's red, swollen eyes were telltale signs of his crying. He didn't even bother to hide the tears as he let her in and locked the door behind her. Putting down the toilet seat lid, she sat on it as he leaned against the wall and sunk down. "Tom died." His voice cracked and he wiped at his tears angrily. "He died and it's my fault," he gasped and his shoulders shook as he hiccuped, trying to stop his tears.
"No." The word came out almost automatically. "Of course it isn't. It's just the way the universe is." His head snapped up, pinning her with an identical hazel stare.
"I miss him all the time," he murmured, "He hasn't even been gone a day and I miss him."
Emily was quiet. She couldn't speak as the crevasse carved into her soul widened at how small and defeated her brother looked.
"How am I supposed to tell my sons that he's dead?" His breath hitched sharply and Emily shrugged, tears coming to her eyes. Her brother was usually so strong - she couldn't remember the last time she saw her brother cry. Resting her thumb against her temple, she pressed the side of her index finger across the span of her brow. Throat closing up, she stayed silent. "You had a miscarriage,"
"I know."
"I love you, Emi."
"I know."
Day Three
She saw Tom again, dressed in a dashing suit. It covered the transplant wounds that they had performed. She was wearing the same thing she wore to George's funeral, the silver necklace bright against the dark, somber aura in the cemetery. She watched the priest spout prayers or something like that like they did at George's funeral. It never meant anything. Not to her.
Today would be her first day back at the hospital. After all this was done, she'd drive to Mass Gen and work.
But first, she had to pick up the guitar and get on that stage. Ella was crying and leaning on her sister. When the blonde looked at her, she saw so much grief that nearly made her voice shake. But she also saw hate too. There was no explanation on how he died and Ella hadn't wanted one. Those three words were simple enough to ring true. So she opted to swallow and move on, eyes flickering from Matthew to Davin to his mom. She hadn't met her before but she immediately saw Tom in her. In her eyes and face and posture.
Her eyes flickered over the back row, people she didn't know staring back at her as they wiped their eyes. For a moment, she felt her heart stop as a brunet man stared back at her, an easy smile lighting up his brown eyes. She blinked and he was gone.
.
"You don't need to be back so soon," Davin murmured in an uncharacteristic tone of kindness. Matthew nodded from beside her as she shoved her bag in her cubby. His hand rested on her shoulder and she shook it off angrily. "Come on, Emily-"
"I'm fine. I want to work and I want to do it in peace, alright?" she snapped sharply and they backed off, sharing concerned looks as she stormed off towards the charts. Doing quick rounds, she noticed many people looking at her and whispering. Dr. Austen looked somber, not even bothering to ask if she was fine.
She wasn't.
After finishing up her plastics rounds, she continued to monitor a burn patient. As she wrote down the drugs she had just given the patient, she felt a nurse's eyes land on her again for what seemed to be like the hundredth time. "May I help you?" she asked, tone clipped. Raising her head, she stared at the woman point-blank, mouth itching to twist into a snarl.
"No, ma'am," she squeaked and averted her eyes. Turning back to her work, she wrote down silver sulfadiazine and the amount before looking up. Catching the woman again, she closed the chart with a jerking movement. She nearly tore the cover off the binder in anger.
"What the hell is your problem?"
"I just… I miss Dr. Jones." The nurse blinked, tears leaking from her eyes, "If it's this hard for me, then it must be terrible for you. I'm so sorry. You must be incredibly brave to be back so soon."
"Life's hard," she snapped, putting the chart in the stand with a slam. The anger was sudden, swallowing her with rage, white and hot and blinding. "We just have to deal with it. And if you can't pull yourself together, then don't come to work. These patients need the best of care and if they can't get it here, then that'll fall on me. Understood?"
"Of course, Dr. Moore. I was just… trying to offer my condolences."
"I know." Finding her throat dry, she swallowed. Blinking, all she could do was apologize. "I'm - I'm sorry." She walked away, hand rubbing the bridge of her nose as she tried to understand why. She shook her head as she rounded the corner and leaned against the wall with one shoulder. Lightly tapping her head against the wall, she could feel the memory's rain kiss her skin as dust crawled into her mouth.
.
Later that day, she found out from Noah that he called and emailed her friends and Mark about what happened. But he said, "I didn't tell him about the miscarriage. You should."
She didn't eat dinner that night. Everything tasted like blood and ash.
.
She woke up with a start. The crumbling of the building still resonated in her ears. Face damp with sweat, she got up and crossed the hall into the bathroom. Turning on the light, she splashed icy water into her face before looking at herself in the mirror. Droplets clung to her skin and eyelashes as she looked at her reflection. Her hair was mussed and tangled but was still the same rich color. Dr. Austen always said she reminded him of Tom. When inquired of why, he explained that she had Tom's smile and he had her hair. Dr. Bakely snidely called them the Wonder Twins.
A part of her resolved to never smile again in front of her mirror, lest she be reminded of him again. The other part of her felt heavy, sagging as she opened the drawer where she knew scissors lay. Pinching strands of hair between her fingers, she took a deep breath and cut.
Day Four
"Hey, Ella." The blonde looked at the O.R. board as Emily tugged her scrub cap off, revealing her short tendrils. It was the first time the widow had stepped in the hospital after his death. The prominent name was Emily's, taking up an O.R. for multiple surgeries in a row.
Ella turned to stare at her disbelievingly before walking down the hall. Narrowing her eyes, Emily glanced at her next surgery. Above-the-knee amputation. When she looked down the hall again, Ella was gone and Emily only clenched her jaw and stared resolutely at the board. She didn't have the strength to chase after a lost cause. Turning towards the O.R., she only focused on a patient's life she was saving as she kept moving. There were lives she could save.
Day Five
"Your sister is a prodigy."
"I know," Noah mumbled as Taylor rubbed his friend's shoulder. "She won't see the shrink." They watched as she whirred the bone saw through the gallery glass. Only in the O.R. did it seem like she was in peace, normal. Everywhere else, she merely glided around like a ghost, never stopping to even chat for a while. Ella, who had her first day back, was caught screaming at his sister before being stopped by Dr. Olivier. Emily had said it was nothing.
But it was something. Everyone knew it. She needed someone to blame.
Day Six
The MVC patient they had ended up having to have his legs amputated.
Taylor had stepped out because he was paged to the O.R. next door and that meant Ella had free reign to completely disrespect Emily's orders even though she was charged with amputating the legs.
"You knew I was right," Emily snapped as she brought the chart to the nurse's station. Ripping off the mask from her neck, she waited until Ella turned to look at her.
"My way would've saved his legs."
"He can live without his legs. He can't live without a heartbeat," she said coldly, opening up the chart and writing down her name. "Honestly, what's up with you?" When there was no answer, she shook her head. "You know what? Save it. Maybe you shouldn't be back at work if you can't respect orders." Turning around, she took a few steps before being stopped.
"Can you?" Emily froze. "You're a hypocritical bitch, you know that?" The brunette swallowed, trying to stop the simmering in her bones. "And you know what? I'll tell you what's up with me. My husband died. That's what's up with me. My husband died when he went to a building collapse for triage. And then someone tells me he's dead. He's dead because he went inside the building."
Emily's voice shook as she spat out, "And?"
"I don't know what happened there that day and I don't want to know, but Tom died. Can't you get it through your thick head? How does it not phase you? How - how is this not what's up with you? Because your best friend died. My husband died. We lost someone."
"Everyone copes differently-" she started but was cut off.
"Except you aren't coping!" Ella snapped bluntly. "You work and you save lives you can't save, and I would say that's coping except you don't talk about it. You bottle it up and you won't tell anyone that you had a miscarriage and that you killed him." There were numerous gasps around them and Emily walked closer to her former friend, trying to quiet her voice. "You won't let yourself feel guilty because all you want to do is look like a saint."
"You don't think I blame myself? That I wish I'd done-" she broke off as her voice cracked, "I'd give anything to turn back time. I loved him."
"Are you sure?" Offended, Emily arched a brow as Ella spat the question at her. It landed on her skin like venom, sinking deep into her flesh.
"I've got the dead Tom thing handled. Have you? You know you've lived up to the expectations. The sad, sad widow. But people are still waiting on me, Ella. To become a mess and blow up and scream because Tom died." The words just came pouring out. There was no anchor for her anymore. "I know a bomb is supposed to be ticking, waiting to blow up. I know that people are whispering. 'Isn't that the girl who watched Tom died?' 'Bet she's gonna go crazy soon.'" There was a silence then. "You know, I envy you. I envy you because you didn't see him. You didn't feel his heart stop or see how pale he was or watch as he died. I envy you. And I wish I were someone else, and I wish I was better, but I am not. If I were better, maybe I could have saved his life, but I didn't. But you know what? I'm fine. I'm - I'm great. I'm okay."
"Those don't sound like words anymore," Ella said and Emily looked away. Her eyes were empty and they made anyone who looked into them flinch. "I'm sorry."
"Are you? Because I think you needed a reason to say it. And I'm glad you did." Her eyes drifted back to Ella's. The blonde flinched and Emily brushed hair back from her face. "All I see is Tom in this hospital. Everywhere. I see him in the cafeteria and in on-call rooms and in the sim lab. So if it makes you feel better, I'll be handing in my letter of resignation tonight. I loved your husband and you were my friend. And if it makes you feel better, I quit."
Day Seven
"Goodbye, Harper," Emily whispered, unshed tears in her eyes. He hugged her tightly and she hugged him back. "I thought I could do it but I can't and I feel like such a coward."
"You're not," assured the other, pulling back. "I just can't believe you're bring my new trauma attending with you," he joked and she managed a forced chuckle.
"Sorry 'bout that," she glanced back at where Taylor was, standing with a huge smile that hid how concerned he was for her. "I have to catch a flight."
"You do. Ah," the man clicked his tongue and brought her into a hug again, "I'll miss you, you devil."
"I'll miss you too, sir," she whispered fondly in his ear and he pulled back. Ruffling her hair, he brought out his scrub cap. Always had to be a surgery.
"Come on, Em. We have to go before two." Taylor called, coming over and shaking Harper Avery's hand. "Goodbye, sir. It's been an honor."
"You take care of her."
"Yes, sir."
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"Matthew, Davin, I-" Emily struggled for words. They answered for her, pulling her into a three-way hug. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Matthew murmured fiercely, hugging her harder. "Come back when it hurts a little less, okay?"
"I will," she promised emptily, unsure if it'd ever hurt less. "Thank you."
.
"And you're sure Dr. Webber already gave you a position?" Emily asked.
"Yes. With the merger happening and the overflow of the E.R. from Mercy West, he said he'd be glad for the extra pair of hands. He's glad you're back, I think."
"I'm not 'back'. I don't have a choice," she murmured, glancing outside the plane window where the black road stretched for years. "He heard the news at Boston, or Noah told him, I don't know. He said I have to see a shrink if I come back."
"Of course you do." He held her hand as the plane began moving. "You have to get past this." He kissed her temple and she nodded. Her hazel eyes, although still empty, had the tiniest flicker of life as she leaned on his shoulder. That was a swell of hope to him and he rested his temple on her head. "I know you will."
"Yeah," she said after a long pause. Looking out the window again, she placed a hand over the pane and felt the cold surface against her palm. "I know." And she never said anything else after that, Taylor watched her periodically, heart hurting to see how her hazel eyes drifted and how still she sat. She could never sit still before, always pulling at her fingers or moving her head or stretching her legs. Now, she was doll-like, staring out the window.
"Do you want something to eat?" He reached out to touch her shoulder and she jolted away, eyes not focusing on him. They saw right through him as he drew his hand back. When they finally centered on him, he felt like something wilted inside him. The look in her eyes, as if reliving the horror she had experienced just a week ago, was something he saw on the battlefield and it never failed to make him feel weak and frostbitten.
"No," she finally said quietly before turning back to the window. He never felt as hopeless as then. Even after an episode or on the battlefield. He always knew what to do. But not now, when this brunette he had known to be so lively seemed to have her soul stolen from her by some unknown force. "Thank you for asking."
"No problem," he muttered, tapping on the screen in front of him to see how many hours there were left. Four hours. Crap. "Well, do you want to watch a movie?" No response. "A show? Music?" He offered again but there was nothing. Music often brought him a sense of peace after an episode. Emily would have to figure out what would bring her out of hers. But for now, jolting her out of it could only cause more trauma. Hopefully that shrink would-
"I don't need to see Dr. Wyatt," Emily murmured to him as if reading his mind. He barely heard her but shook his head anyway. Dr. Wyatt must be the shrink.
"You have to." She didn't respond but allowed him to drag her towards him and hug her for a very long time until she fell asleep for the rest of the plane ride.
.
When the plane finally landed, she jolted out of her daze again. Like she was programmed, she got up and was out of the airport in forty-five minutes flat. Breathing in, she rubbed the back of her neck.
"So this is Seattle."
"Yeah," she mumbled. He smiled, offering her a bite of the muffin he had bought on the plane. She pinched a piece, chewed and swallowed, despite it tasting numb in her mouth. He was trying to help. She knew that. The least she could do was humour him. "What're we doing first?"
"First, we're getting some sleep. You've been working for overtime. You need some sleep." To emphasize his point, she yawned. "Come on, let's go to the Archfield."
"Alright." She nodded numbly. Tomorrow she would face it. She would face Dr. Wyatt and Meredith and Alex. She would face Mark and the Chief and the Mercy Westers, god forbid. Tomorrow, she would try and find her place. She would try because Tom would want her to. She would try because she needed to if she ever wanted to be whole again.
A/N: Edited - October 19, 2018
Next: Emily's first day back along with the Mercy Westers.
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