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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
time has come today.
season three, episodes one and two.
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Billie stood in the morgue.
Well, not quite stood, because she was still being wheeled around everywhere on a chair in order for her stitches not to come off again, but her place of preference to hang out had been the morgue. Specifically, where Denny's body resided.
The closed room smelled of lugubrious death. Lack of windows encompassed the small space, making it feel like a locked tin box with no source of external light. The cold lockers were lined up in rows of six and lines of four, each holding in the deceased body of someone who used to live. The walls and floors were tiled, each showcasing a considerable amount of must and dirt within the slots and setting the place to feel even smaller, scarier and darker than it already was.
The only open cold locker was locker number sixteen. Denny's pale body laid within it.
Billie's elbows were rested on the armrests of the wheelchair and her hand was over her mouth as she stared at the soulless body of the only family she used to have. The man she'd considered her favorite person, her everything, her all.
Denny's eyes were shut peacefully, unwinded features laying beneath the veil of death and deterioration. After dying, his body had acquired the same characteristic paleness that he had always had before getting a new heart, but this time, the lack of color meant something completely different.
Billie felt like she might vomit, but yet again, she didn't feel anything at all.
Her head was someplace else and her heart had died together with Denny, so there was nothing left inside her to cherish. There was nothing to look at, nothing to touch, nothing to feel. The world around her kept going and she was stuck in one place, but for once, she didn't care.
Her skin appeared to have blanched and aged years in just one night and her eyes were enclosed by a thick veil of darkness, representing the lack of sleep that the past night had involved.
She had chosen to permanently skip the period of acceptance and simply fall directly into inanimate numbness. She was dead inside, and she knew it.
Billie slowly reached out her fingers. Her hand shook the closer it came up to Denny's cheek, but she didn't care. She slowly ran the pads of her digits along the curve of his cheekbone, down his nose, up his jaw. She traced his features like she wanted to memorize them, knowing that, after the burial, she'd never see him again.
Denny was really dead. Even if she didn't want to admit it, even if she was choosing to turn her grief into anger, even if she was choosing to feel nothing, Denny was really dead.
☆
Back at Meredith's house, Izzie laid on the floor of the bathroom, still wearing her prom dress from the night prior. Her eyes were welled up with tears upon her waterlines and her hair was a mess, but she didn't care.
"Izzie. Izzie! Come on," Alex said from the other side of the closed door, trying to get her to stand up.
"Okay, she's been in there all night. We have to do something," George reasoned.
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
"Yeah." Meredith nodded, but when everybody looked at her, she frowned. "Why are you all looking at me?"
"Well... normally, it would be Billie the one getting her to stand up. You know, she just has that magic, and she's also a little dark inside, so I'm pretty sure she'd understand." Cristina shrugged. "But considering the fact that she's currently fifty thousand emotional miles away from Earth and in the mood to chop Izzie's head off, she's not available, so you're the closest thing. This is familiar territory for you."
"There is nothing familiar about this. Unfamiliar. Denny died. The man she loves died," Meredith whisper-yelled.
"Yeah, but you're all dark and twisty inside."
"Dark and twisty?"
"The mother with the Alzheimer's thing and the father you don't talk to." Cristina gestured with her hand.
"And the tequila thing. And the inappropriate men thing," Alex added.
"You are dark and twisty inside, Meredith, and now Izzie is dark and twisty inside." George nodded.
"So, all of a sudden I'm the president of people with crappy lives?"
"Seriously, we have to do something," George said. "Someone has to go in there."
Again, they all turned to Meredith and stayed quiet, but the blonde simply rolled her eyes. Alex, who had been left thinking, bit his lip anxiously and then talked as an afterthought.
"Has any of you visited Billie yet? 'Cause she's got about three more days in the hospital before she's discharged, and I don't want her to feel like we've forgotten about her," he asked, and judging by the guilty look on his friends faces, he knew none of them had been around.
☆
"Hey," Alex said once he walked into Billie's ICU room.
The girl laid on her side, cheek delved into her pillow. Her body shifted none in reaction to his voice or even his presence in the room. She simply looked straight ahead into the static nothingness, even when Alex pulled a chair and sat in front of her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, leaning a bit forward in order to speak intimately.
Billie didn't answer verbally. Instead, she simply limited herself to shrug her shoulders and avoid his eyes, not for any particular reason, but because she was so emotionally devoid that doing it would've costed her an unimaginable amount of energy she lacked.
"Allen told me your incision's healing nicely," he then proceeded, concerned at his girlfriend's disconnected stance. "That's good, can I- can I take a look?"
Billie didn't answer yet again, but turned over onto her back as a way to silently grant him the permission. Alex nodded and lifted her gown very slowly, softly, in order not to trigger her in any way. He took a look at the scar and nodded his head, then covered her with the gown and sat back down on the chair.
"Have you been having any pain, any...?" he asked, trailing off near the end in order to wait for the answer.
When it never came, he sighed very softly. Alex intended to stay the rest of the afternoon in that room with her just so that she knew he was there, but with great timing, his pager went off. He bit his lip.
"I have to go, Bil," he said, caressing her head softly with his palm and then standing up to plant a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry."
He gave her one last look, as if waiting for her to say something, but when she didn't, he turned on his heel and walked towards the door. Until he stopped.
"Could you just-" he began, softly. "Could you tell me what's going on inside your head? Please?"
Billie closed her eyes and said nothing.
☆
"Has she said anything yet?" Edward Allen asked Derek as they both stood outside Billie's room, watching her through the glass.
Derek shook his head, "It's like she's not even there."
"Have you considered talking to Psych? Calling in one of the shrinks? Maybe they'll be able to talk to her." Edward turned, leaning his shoulder against the glass.
"She's a closed-off person. If she's not talking to Karev, then she's not gonna talk to anybody else," Derek reasoned.
"Who's Karev?"
"Oh, he's, uh... an intern. I think they're together."
Edward frowned, "Oh."
"Yeah."
They stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at the woman they'd recently saved from death only a few hours ago, but with a feeling of heartache nonetheless.
"Have you tried talking to her?" Edward suggested.
Derek looked down hesitantly, "No."
"Why not?"
"I can't see her like this, she's- she's broken." Derek shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head yet again inwardly. "I just can't."
Edward nodded in understanding, but then shrugged, "You won't lose anything if you try though."
☆
"Hey," Derek greeted as he walked into Billie's ICU room.
The girl was now sitting up, immersed into the compulsive habit of pinching her forearm in order to try and wake up from whatever nightmare she was in. Her eyes were fixed on the nothingness, but Derek's eyes, instead, were on the bruising skin of her arm.
"Bil, you're hurting yourself," he stated with a frown, but the girl paid no mind.
He walked up to her and surrounded her bed in order to stand on the other side, but Billie was still nowhere to be seen. His lips parted a little at her abnormal behavior.
"Billie," he said once more, but nothing.
Derek reached out his hand and wrapped it around her wrist softly in an attempt to stop her from pinching herself, but she simply clenched her jaw and tried to snatch it back. At the aggressiveness of her movements, he quickly pulled away in heartache.
He eyed his surroundings and looked through the window, trying to check if there was someone around who was seeing what he was seeing. He hated that it had taken him so long to visit to the point where Billie was completely detached, devoid of any emotions.
"Bil, please talk to me," he practically begged.
The girl had felt like this before. She'd felt so disconnected from everything that she hadn't even been able to open her mouth. But this time... this time, it was different. She was numb, and that's how she wanted to stay. She wanted to be left alone and she wanted the world to swallow her whole, leave nothing of her existence for her to suffer anymore.
"Please."
She didn't want to cry.
"Billie."
She didn't want to feel anything, but the longer she stayed silent, the more tears welled upon her eyes.
"Something, anything."
She just wanted to scream. So she did.
Billie screamed, and when she did, mostly as an impulse, Derek wrapped his arms around her. Tight, steady. The girl pushed and tried to fight herself loose from his grip, still screaming and letting the tears drop down her eyes. She kicked and tried to push him away, but despite it, he wouldn't budge. He wasn't going to let her go.
Never again.
Eventually, her heart warmed up to his touch and she stopped fighting.
Derek didn't loosen up around her, holding her close to his chest and letting her sob out into his shoulder at the same time that he rubbed his thumb on her back in circular motions to soothe her.
Billie broke down and mentally swore that would never happen again, but she'd soon find out that was a big lie.
THREE DAYS LATER
That day, as Billie sat pensively on her bed with eyes puffy due to the crying, Edward Allen walked into her room. He was wearing navy blue scrubs and his lab coat, but didn't seem to be there for a consult. He stood by the sill and smiled briefly.
"How are you feeling, Ms. Black?" HE asked cautiously with that British accent Billie would soon grow to know.
"I think we can cut the formalities, don't you think?" she deadpanned, not looking into his eyes.
She was feeling better to the point of speech and mobility, but her mood hadn't improved a single bit ever since her breakdown. In fact, now, she was choosing to canalize all of her internal grief and pain and turn it into raging anger, and was displaying it in the form of a terrible temper which the people around her had been brought under for the past couple of days.
"Alright, then." He nodded. "How are you feeling, Billie?"
The woman in question sighed, "No chest or abdominal pain, incision is healing nicely, vitals are normal. I'm fine."
Edward nodded, lapsing his tongue along his bottom lip briefly. He latched his hands behind his back.
"And how are you feeling?"
Billie looked up and eyed his expression, though his nuances were so unreadable that she was startled for a second.
"I don't know you," she limited herself to say, then smoothed her fingers over the bruising skin of her arms.
Edward laughed briefly. He then walked up to her bed and sat down by the end, reaching out his hand for her to shake. She looked down at it with a frown.
"My name's Edward William Allen. I'm thirty-seven years old. I'm a cardiothoracic surgeon; not the best, but I could be. I'm divorced with no kids and I'm a brother to seven sisters. My father was a farmer and my mother, a waitress, but they're both dead. My drink of choice is whiskey, although I like myself a good rum. Favorite book, Wuthering Heights, and favorite movie, Edward Scissorhands," he said with a smile. "We know each other now."
Billie didn't reciprocate the smile, but reached out her hand and slowly shook his, warily, as if he might bite.
"Your name's Edward William?" she asked, expression deadpan. "That's depressing."
He laughed briefly, "We all have our own problems."
For the first time in what felt like ages, the corner of her lip twitched into a very small smile, although it was quickly wiped away when the awkward silence invaded them both. Edward analyzed her face.
"So, we were talking about you," he said. "What's going on inside your head?"
Billie bit the corner of her lip anxiously and looked around, as if not wanting anyone to hear what she was about to say, "I need a place to live because the same girl that went nuts and- uh, she's living where I used to live, and I'm not gonna go back there unless she's out. But she's not out, 'cause all my friends are trying to support her, because apparently and supposedly, she was in love with my uncle, and now he's dead. But I still don't understand how they can even allow her to feel sad after what she did, because it's her fault that Denny's... dead."
When her rant finished, she felt the burden of her words weighing her down. Suddenly, her mouth felt awfully dry, so she swallowed thickly and looked away. Edward kept his eyes on her for a second.
"You need a place to live?" he asked, quoting only the first bit of information out of respect. "I have a place to live."
"What? Like, at your place?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not gonna live with you."
"Why not? Besides, you wouldn't be living with me, you would just be burrowing my guest room. Which is pretty comfortable, by the way." He gestured with his hand.
"No way." Billie shook her head.
"Okay, okay, hear me out." He raised his palm. "I'm a great cook, I can cook whatever you want, anything. I can also drive you to work, I have a car. I'm an obsessive cleaner. I, uh... can be very quiet. And- oh, and I don't snore."
"Awesome." The girl rolled her eyes, but then gave him a deadpan expression. "I don't do breakfast, I have my own car, I'm not a messy person, I don't like strangers in my room and I'm very loud. Whether you want me to or not."
Edward raised his arms by his side, "Perfect!"
"Dr. Allen, I'm not gonna go live with you. Besides, I still have, like, what? Two more days here? I can get a place in two days."
"Call me Edward, please," he said. "And, actually, we're discharging you today night."
Billie's face fell, "What?"
"Yes. You're not showing signs of atrial fibrillation, incision's not infected, no post-op complications so far. You're good to go." Edward smiled, but at the nerves on her face, he added. "Just hear me out: it's midday, you get until seven today to give me an answer. You say no, I'll be off your ass immediately. But if you say yes, you won't see that murderous chick you talked to me about and plus, you'll get a new place to live. Deal?"
Billie rolled her eyes, hidden annoyance to the gesture but a bit consideration towards the offer, "Fine. Whatever."
A WEEK LATER
Billie had been doing a lot of resting.
In fact, she had been doing so much resting, laying around and eating leftover baked custard from Edward's fridge that she was ready to go to work and never lay back down in a bed again. She was extremely bored.
After getting discharged from the hospital, in an attempt to avoid ever seeing Izzie Stevens again and as in agreement with her new friend, Billie had moved in with Edward and she was currently hanging around in his guest room. She hadn't dared to talk to anyone about her whereabouts, let alone her current emotional state; not Alex, not Cristina, not Meredith, not even Derek. She was just in her own little world.
But, a week later, she was ready to go back to work.
She had notified Edward the night prior as they played a quiet game of Scrabble and ate some more custard, which seemed to be Edward's specialty. As soon as she brought up the topic, the man had taken out his doctor side and given her a fifteen-minute long lecture about how she should take care of herself, but in the end, the girl blew him off and he agreed to let her go, only if she made sure to take it easy.
So now, here she was: a little late for rounds as she changed into her scrubs in the locker room.
On the other side of the hospital, meanwhile, the intern class, excluding Izzie Stevens, followed Bailey around.
"So, uhm... Dr. Bailey?" George called out to his resident.
"Surgeons don't say 'uhm', O'Malley. You wanna be a surgeon, learn to speak like one."
"Look, he wants you to talk to the Chief about Izzie. See if she'll come back," Alex interrupted.
"She's just baking, a lot of baking, and it seems a waste for all her talent and medical skills to go into muffins," George said. "We just thought you might help-"
"Izzie's got no talent or medical skills, George. Learn the difference, please." Billie popped up behind the group with an eye-roll, fully changed and ready to start working. Her eyes landed on her resident. "Sorry I'm late, Dr. Bailey."
"You're back already, Black?" She frowned. "Isn't it too early?"
"I stayed in the ICU for five days and then spent a week laying in bed. I think that's enough."
"The required time of rest after open-heart surgery is of two to three months, Billie." The resident arched an eyebrow. "And still, that's not what I was talking about."
The girl cleared her throat, "I said I'm back, so I'm back. With all due respect, Dr. Bailey, please don't ask me any questions or give me any opinions on my personal life, because I don't want them."
Bailey's eyebrows shot up a little, but out of respect, she nodded her head and turned to walk away, towing the intern class behind her. Billie felt a presence over her shoulder and soon, Alex's voice.
"You're back?" he asked.
"Anybody else wanna question my integrity?" She sighed, trying her best to hold back in all of her bottled-up anger.
"I wasn't questioning- I'm just worried, babe. You've been MIA for two weeks. Not even a text, a call. I've been worried about you. Where are you even staying?" he blurted out all at once.
"Look, I'm fine, Alex. You wanna worry, fine, worry. But I'm okay. I know everybody's expecting me to break down at some point, but that happened once and it's never happening again," she said, turning to face him. "I'm staying at Edward's. He's taking care of me and I'm fine. Happy?"
"Wait, what? You mean Dr. Allen?" Alex suddenly felt weird. "What, he's your buddy now?"
"We're just friends." Billie rolled her eyes.
"Oh, so he's not fucking you?"
Billie turned around abruptly and looked at her through a frown.
"Why would you even think that?" She shook her head. "You're fucking disgusting."
Alex felt a pang to her chest when he watched her walk away, feeling he'd overstepped with his comment. Truth was, it was mere jealousy.
With new bubbling rage, he ran up to follow the intern class who, together with Bailey, were walking into a patient room to continue with the morning rounds. Derek Shepherd walked in behind them.
"Well, good morning. Benjamin, Ruth," he said.
"Good morning, Dr. Shepherd," the woman standing by the bed said.
"Doesn't feel like a very good morning to me. I have to have brain surgery today. Pretty scary," Benjamin added. "Plus, my sister's nervous and when she gets nervous, she sweats and the windows in here don't open, so it's pretty rank."
"Benjamin."
"Was I rude, Ruthie?"
The woman nodded, "Let's let the doctors talk."
"Benjamin O'Leary, thirty-two. In for the removal of a brain tumor that's pressing on his frontal temporal lobe. Clearly, it's affecting his impulse control," Billie said.
Derek, who had been oblivious to her presence until that very moment, was surprised to see her there, but didn't comment on it. Even so, Billie counted on the fact that he'd definitely come over and ask later.
"It makes me say everything I think, which apparently, is annoying." Benjamin looked at Cristina. "This doctor looks annoyed anyway. Although it's hard to tell, 'cause she always has, like, this pinched, uptight look on her face."
Alex snorted at her friend's mockery briefly, causing Cristina to glare at him.
"Am I annoying you?" the patient asked.
"It's fine."
"You can't say it's fine. He doesn't perceive sarcasm or irony. If he's annoying you, you have to tell him," Ruth interfered.
"Maybe I'm not annoying her, Ruthie."
"No, you are." Cristina pressed her lips together.
Bailey arched an eyebrow, "Dr. Yang."
"He asked!"
"Okay, Benjamin. Dr. Yang, pinched and uptight though she may be, is gonna prep you for surgery today. Do you have any questions?" Derek asked.
"Is that blonde your girlfriend? 'Cause the way you keep looking at her, you might as well just mount her right here and now," Benjamin said, gesturing towards Meredith. Everybody held an awkward silence. "I'm sorry, was that rude?"
☆
Once the doctors were out of the room, Billie saw as Bailey gathered together with the intern class, but she decided to follow Derek out instead. She grabbed his wrist and turned him around so that he'd face her.
"Why didn't you put me on that case?" she asked. "You would normally put me in, but you didn't."
"Well, hello to you too," he greeted playfully.
"Why?"
Derek sighed and looked around, then lowered his voice, "You didn't tell me you were back. It's too soon, you're not- you're not recovered. I'm not just talking about your body which, I might as well add, underwent multiple traumas and both brain and open-heart surgery on the same night, but I'm also talking about your mind. You're not ready to come back to work."
"I will decide if I'm ready or not," Billie said through gritted teeth. "Denny's dead and I've dealt with it, but I'm starting to believe you're the one who has to deal with it because the way you keep looking at me makes me feel like a fragile little thing. I am not a fragile little thing, Derek."
The man looked at her worriedly, but just then, they heard Bailey's yell coming from the opposite side of the hall.
"You can tell me whose damn panties are on the bulletin board!"
Out of curiosity, Billie turned towards the board only to find a pair of black lace panties clipped to it. Her eyes immediately landed on Meredith and not because Billie knew what the hell had happened, but because she'd recognized those panties anywhere: more than once, she'd fished them out of the clean laundry basket before the blonde could realize.
"This is a hospital, people. Serious work happens here. We save lives here," Bailey scolded to the entire floor that had turned to look, but when she heard Alex's muffled laugh, she added. "Oh, something's funny? Whose are these?"
The whole floor was filled with hushed whispers and contained laughs, including Alex's and George's, who had snorted in sync and were now doing their best to keep their laughter in.
"Yeah, I know it's one of you. It's always one of mine. Always." Bailey stood in front of Meredith and Cristina accusingly. "So, tell me. Which one of you left your damn drawls on my surgical floor?"
For some reason, Callie was the one who jumped to the rescue, "Oh, no, did I leave my underwear laying around again? I am so sorry, Bailey. It's my bad."
She walked over to the board and unclipped the panties, then tucked them inside the pocket of her lab coat while the whole floor gawked at her.
Billie huffed and rolled her eyes, then proceeded to storm out of the hall with an unusual annoyance to everything around her that didn't come around too often.
☆
"Guess what?" Edward came up to Billie that afternoon.
"What?" she answered tiredly, letting out a little sigh at the thought of having to interact with yet another person that morning.
"I'm about to perform the coolest surgery ever. I mean, normally, it would be Burke the one operating, but he's out, so I have the spotlight."
"What surgery?"
"Tree through a kid."
Billie's eyes widened a little, but almost sarcastically, "Oh, really? That's cool."
"I know, right?" He smiled eagerly like a little kid about to receive a candy, but when he noticed Billie's expression, his grin fell. "What's wrong?"
"What? Nothing's wrong."
"Something's wrong." Edward nudged her with his elbow, but at the lack of answer he added. "C'mon, tell me-"
"I'm fine, Edward, God!" Billie exploded, but her words weren't personal, so she took a deep breath to steady herself. "I'm fine, just- sorry, I have to go."
☆
Meredith and Cristina were sitting in the OR gallery, watching the surgery, when George walked in, surprised at the sight happening beneath them. Meanwhile, Cristina ranted about how much she abhorred Burke's mother.
"Is that a tree?" George asked in regards to the operation.
"His mother rivals my mother. And that is saying something," Cristina ignored him.
"They're operating around it?" the man asked again.
"Both of them, dark and evil." She dismissed his words once again, but then pushed him away with her leg. "You're blocking my view, George."
"I miss dirty stripper Cristina. She was fun. A lot less angry." Meredith shrugged playfully, referencing the incident happened that morning where Mama Burke walked in on Cristina giving Burke a lap dance.
"Next time I see her, if she even looks at me sideways, I'm telling her what I think." Cristina scoffed. "She wants to call me a racist? I'll call her sexist! Change my career after I'm married? What is this, 1953? She comes at me, I'm going there."
"I think you should." Meredith nodded. "I think we all should just go there, you know? Tell the truth. Spit it out. Go with your gut. Follow your instincts."
Cristina paused, frowning at her, "I miss philandering whore Meredith. She was trashy and much less idyllic."
She snorted under her breath at Meredith's offended stance, but just then, George turned towards them, "Has any of you talked to Billie yet? She's been storming around all day, I don't think she's fine."
Meredith and Cristina glanced at each other, concerned, knowing none of them had gotten the time to check on their person yet.
☆
"Thanks for not putting me on that case, asshole!" Billie slapped the back of Derek's head that afternoon after a long day of simply charting around in nurses stations and watching Edward perform his surgery.
"Ouch! Billie!"
"I asked for a favor. A friend of you, your best friend, came to you very hungry for surgery after being OR-starved for two weeks. She asked for you to put her on a case with you on a patient with a tumor for her very grieving heart and you didn't do it? Asshole!" She slapped the back of his head again.
"Stop hitting me!"
"ASSHOLE!" She slapped him one more time.
"Okay, I swear to God, you hit me one more time and I will return it." He raised a warning finger. "Besides, there was a full board, you could've easily gotten in on any other surgery. Why that one specifically?"
"Because!" she whisper-yelled. "You didn't put me on that surgery because you think I'm not ready to come back. You think I'm still fragile from whatever shit went down with Stevens and Denny, but I'm not fragile! I'm okay! I'm fucking okay, so stop making this kind of decisions for me! Please, Derek, I'm begging you, stop!"
The man looked at her with concern, unsure of what to reply, and then watched her walk away angrily.
☆
"Billie, can we talk?" Alex caught up to her after Edward's successful surgery was over.
"Uh, sure," she said, but kept walking regardless.
Alex looked around and then grabbed Billie's wrist, dragging her down the hallway and into an empty on-call room. Billie let out a little sound of surprise once Alex closed the door behind them.
"What's going on, Bil?" he asked.
"With what?"
Alex looked at her, deadpan. "With you."
"Nothing, I'm just fucking my heart surgeon." Billie rolled her eyes, then attempted at leaving the room, but Alex held her back.
"Billie, God." He sighed. "I didn't mean that, okay? I was just jealous."
"Jealous of what?"
"I don't know!" Alex shrugged. "You get discharged from the hospital and don't even bother to tell me, and then you go missing for a week? You didn't call, you didn't text. You didn't let me know about anything. I've been dead worried about you! And then you come back all of a sudden and tell me you've been staying with Dr. Allen, which, not to mention, is really creepy... and you won't even talk to me! Billie, you could've at least told me when you were discharged from the hospital. You could've stayed with me, at my place."
Silence. Alex shook his head.
"What's going on? Why won't you talk to me?"
"Alex, you don't have to worry about me-"
"I don't have to worry about you? What, you get into a freaking car crash and nearly damn die on me, and I'm not supposed to worry?" He raised his voice. "I'm always worrying! I spend every second of every day worrying about you because I'm scared that I might lose you! And then Denny dies, and you almost die, and you're acting like you're fine? That's not okay, Billie! So, yes, I'm gonna worry as much as I fucking feel like it, because you are not fine!"
Billie kept quiet for a second, looking at Alex sympathetically. She hated that she burdened him like that.
"Why do you care so much about me, Alex? What have I ever done to deserve that?" She shook her head, her voice a whisper in comparison to the mess of emotions pouring out of Alex's.
"I don't know," he said. "You've just made me fall for you, that's it."
"Baby, I can't do this." Billie took a step forward and cradled Alex's face in her hands. He melted into the touch. "I- I... I need some time, for me. I need to. I can't... I'm a mess, Alex. You've seen it. And I will fix it, I promise. But I'm not your mess to fix."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." Billie sighed and let him go. "I will be back, okay? I just need some time. Time to work on myself, to fix me. I want to be with you, but not right now, I can't. So I need you to wait for me. You have to trust me, I promise I'll be back.
"No, no. Let me help you. Let me be there with you." Alex took a step forward, closer.
"No." Billie looked down. "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm sorry. But I'll be back."
Then, without another word, she opened the door and left Alex alone in the empty on-call room.
He'd always looked at her. He'd spent every minute of every day ever since they'd met looking at her, reading her expressions, memorizing every scar, freckle and line on her skin, tracing the patterns of her body. He'd looked at her so deeply that he had come to a point where he felt like there was nothing outside of her. It was just... her.
But after hearing her words, Alex realized he had been looking, but he hadn't been seeing. He hadn't seen what was going on inside her head, he hadn't seen all the thoughts that disturbed her at night, he hadn't seen everything she'd went through to cause her to be so damaged that she wouldn't let herself be loved. He hadn't seen her, and as he looked at her that afternoon, he realized how much regret he held for it.
☆
That night, as Billie changed back into her street clothes in the locker room, Edward walked in, still wearing his scrub cap and apparently, looking all around for her.
"Hey," he said softly once he found her, leaning against the lockers and eyeing her subtly.
Billie looked up from her combat boots, which she was failing miserably at tying up, and then looked back down, "Hey."
Edward paused warily, "Are you okay?"
The girl froze and placed her hands by her sides, gripping the edge of the bench tightly. It seemed to be that question the one that always made her break, even if she had promised she wouldn't. When she looked up, Edward notice the thin sheen of tears eclipsing her eyes.
"I wasn't ready," she said, pouting in order to hold back her tears. "I thought I was ready to come back here and start working again, but I- I'm just not."
Edward listened to her words carefully with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the lockers. Her eyes turned bloodshot.
"Everywhere I look, I just see him, and- and-" she breathed out heavily. "I can't breathe, I just can't-"
She took her hands to her head and pushed back her hair, then looked up at the ceiling, "There's so much pressure around me because everybody's just waiting for me to crumble down. They're standing there with their arms stretched out so they can catch the pieces once I break, and- and, normally, I would be happy to play the part. Scream, yell, cry, break down. If that's what made them feel more comfortable, then I would do it, but I just-"
She cut herself off and looked up at Edward, allowing a single tear to slither down her cheek.
"I was angry the last I saw him. He told me something and I got mad, and then I left the room," Billie said. "And then I blinked, and he was gone. He left me. And now Alex and I are broken up, and Izzie thinks she deserves some sort of prize for playing the victim, and- and everything's just so fucked up."
She finally began sobbing. Billie propped her elbows on her knees and hid her face on her palms, crying quietly into them and hoping the world would just fucking end.
She looked up at Edward, "Alex and I broke up."
"I know." He nodded.
Billie breathed out, "My uncle is dead."
Edward sighed out, "I know."