Aftermath

Part 8

Derek had fallen asleep around 9:00 PM. I had sat, unmoving in the chair beside his bed for probably six hours until I finally got up to get something to drink. The lights in the hallway outside my husband's room were dimmed, and there were a few nurses and doctors roaming the floor. 

I found a coffee cart, but stood in front of it for a few minutes, trying to decide wether I could have coffee at 3:00 AM. Screw it. I bought myself a large, it wasn't like I was going to sleep anytime son anyway. 

At this point, I didn't really know what to do with myself. I had no patients, no one to talk to. I knew I couldn't sit beside Derek's bed all night and worry. He was going to sleep for another few hours, so I decided to make my way up to the resident's lounge. There were medical magazines I could read up there.

When I reaches the lounge, the lights were off. I opened the door and flicked them on, jumping when I saw movement on one of the couches.

"Hey!" 

"Oh, sorry, I just, uh..." I squinted, trying to figure out who it was.

The woman sat up and brushed her red hair out of her face. April was squinting against the bright lights, and her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying.

"April, I can go if you were sleeping I didn't mean to intrude I didn't think anyone was up here,"

"No, I'm awake now," She said, wiping her eyes and trying to smooth out her hair. "Come sit, it's fine."

I made my way over to the couch and she moved the blanket that had been covering her to make space. I sat down and kicked off my shoes, leaning back. Wordlessly, I stuck out the hand that held my cup of coffee in it. She gave me a small smile and accepted the drink, taking a large gulp before handing it back to me.

I wasn't really friends with April. We was from Mercy West. Well, I guess we kind of have to be friends now. She saw me at my lowest points the day of the shooting. We sat in silence.

"You were crying," I observe softly, hoping my tone conveyed no judgement.

She sniffled and was silent for a minute before she responded. 

"Yeah, Reed is dead."

I had totally forgotten she and Reed had been close friends. Reed had been one of the first people shot that day. I nodded my head slowly, and I felt her gaze turn to me.

"I guess it didn't really hit me until now. Until the janitor came and cleaned her stuff out of her locker."

"I'm sorry,"

"Me too,"

We were in silence again. I sat there, debating opening up to her. At first I didn't want to, but she had been through hell with me, there was no reason I couldn't. 

"There was a resident in my class. George O'Malley." I started, "He was a good one. George was sweet, loyal, kind. He was a great person, a great friend. He was going to be a trauma surgeon, and he joined the army." 

"I think I heard about him," April said. 

"Hunt sent him home the day before he reported to duty to talk to his mother. On his way home, he saved this random woman's life. He pushed her out of the way of a bus. George got hit by the bus instead. When they brought him in here, he was John Doe, no one recognized him."

"He died?"

"He traced the nickname we had for him into my hand. Thats how we found out it was him. Then, he died on the table. And I didn't cry, not at his funeral or anything. I didn't cry until they cleaned out his locker."