trauma [m.s]

xxxi.

- - -
it's intense, what happens in the o.r when lives are on the line and you're poking at brains like they're silly putty.
- - -

"dude... is she knitting?" joe furrows his brow from where he stands behind the bar, watching chloe altman attempt to knit a sweater.

"you know, as a- as a friend, i gotta tell you, you look a little weird," arizona tells her as she and derek slide onto the barstools either side of the blonde.

"i am making a sweater," chloe says, her eyes firmly on the burgundy wool in front of her.

"you're knitting... in a bar," joe points out. "you can't knit in a bar. you're scaring the customers."

"come on. have a drink," derek suggests, sliding his scotch towards her.

"i can't have a drink," chloe shakes her head. "i'm celibate."

"you mean sober?" joe asks as three sets of brows furrow at the blonde, whose eyes still haven't lifted from her knitting. "she means sober."

"no, celibate," chloe confirms whilst her two friends watch her intently. "i'm practicing celibacy, and drinking does not go well with celibacy because it makes everything and everyone seem kind of porn-y, and then my head gets all cloudy, and then the next thing you know, i'm naked," chloe momentarily lifts her head to look at arizona and derek, in turn. "and my point is, i'm celibate, and knitting is good for surgical dexterity, so i'm making a sweater."

"you celibate?" derek raises his brow before he scoffs and laughs. "i just don't buy it."

"no more men," chloe says, firmly.

"no more men, really? you?" arizona's brow also raises and chloe looks up at her to frown. "and i'm asking because we are friends."

"i was married, and that did not work out well for me," chloe says, her stitches becoming quicker as she speaks. "then i met mark when i was still married to owen, so that didn't work out too great for me either. and now i am divorced."

"you are making a sweater," derek nods as he and arizona warily step away from the bar and head over to a table.

"i am making a sweater," chloe sighs.

- - -
you form a bond with the surgeons right next to you. an unbreakable, indescribable bond.
- - -

after walking from joe's in the pouring rain of the early hours of the morning, her knitting stuffed into her bag, and an umbrella over her head, chloe walks into the e.r. her brow furrowing as she lifts her head to find the residents- minus izzie-  huddled around the nurses station.

"what are you all doing here?"

"oh, uh, he's mine," cristina raises her hand as she and the others hurry over to the blonde. "i met the ambulance."

"and she's sharing him with me," meredith adds.

"he's mine. i'm on call," george argues.

"good morning, dr. altman," alex smiles, looking the blonde up and down. "you look nice today."

"brownnoser," cristina mutters to him before she turns back to chloe. "i got here first. and the chief said i'm the one to watch."