𝙇𝙄.
ELEVEN THIRTY-FOUR
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good luck with the next few chapters 🖤
tw: gun violence
SEATTLE
HE WAS A creature of habit.
At 7AM, he woke up.
He started his day as Beth showered. He got out of bed, washed his face, brushed his teeth and hummed Stevie Wonder as Beth read her emails on her phone.
Every morning, she'd lean against the wall, towel wrapped around her and catch his eye in the mirror. She flashed him a smile and he grinned back, mouth full of toothpaste and sparkles in his eyes. He wandered into the kitchen, threw together an omelette and made small-talk about the weather as Beth had her morning coffee.
He made the woman he loved breakfast and strolled through job advertisements on his computer. Every morning, she'd smile at him in a way that said thank you and she'd make him coffee in return and they'd eat in comfortable silence.
At 8AM, he got dressed and watched as Beth packed her purse.
She'd taken up the habit of littering the apartment with all of her papers and her psychiatry books and pens. Sometimes it felt weird just watching her, but he was utterly convinced that it was worth it. He just leant against the couch every morning, cell phone in his hand and coffee in the other and watched as she flew around the apartment like a hurricane, sweeping up everything she needed and tossing it haphazardly into her bag.
One heel on, the other wedged underneath the coffee table, nose and shirt crinkled, lipstick slightly smudged as if she'd rubbed at her mouth.
She was as much of a creature of habit as he was. She worked like clockwork, steaming ahead despite all odds. Sometimes, just watching her exhausted him. He was still recovering from the stress of trying to take her to take a sick day last week.
He felt like he was constantly sprinting to keep up but luckily, he'd been a pretty stellar athlete in high school. Oddly, it felt like he was constantly trying to keep a toddler under control, one which had the habit of sprinting towards the nearest disaster zone ready to selflessly sacrifice themselves.
"Okay, I'll meet you at 12 for lunch, right?"
Beth was walking and talking. She did that a lot. It was as if she couldn't slow down long enough to do them separately.
He watched from the corner of the room as she fixed her lipstick and put her hair up into a ponytail. When she looked at him, he nodded, finishing his coffee and rinsing his mug under the faucet. She beamed, letting out a long breath. Her shoulders fell and she stilled for a few moments.
She only slowed down when she was looking at him like that.
Her smile blinded him.
"I know this deli, five blocks over, kinda near that Indonesia restaurant," She moved towards him. This was familiar, at 8:15am Beth would leave for work and she'd hug him and kiss him. It was his favourite part of their morning routine. She placed her arms around his waist and looked up at him and he smiled back. "We'd be able to grab some food, it's usually not very busy. I should be able to get there pretty quick. My last appointment is at like 11:45, so I shouldn't be late..."
"Sounds perfect," He said, admiring her as she kissed his cheek.
"Although," Beth seemed to pause, rolling her eyes and pulling backwards to shoot him an exasperated glance. "Knowing this city, there will probably be some sort of mass trauma that'll need some counselling or something. I swear, I'm probably going to even be wait for our fucking wedding."
It was a joke that made him chuckle. He liked the look on Beth's faced when she spoke about them, their future. It made him feel soft and warm inside. She seemed to be lighter about it now, joking about it with only a hint of caution in her eyes. He kissed her forehead and let her go and watched as she left for work.
At 9AM, he exercised.
Beth was long out of the door and had already texted him something about how a surgical intern had already gotten on her nerves. He read it as he laced up his sneakers and warmed up in the elevator down to the lobby of the apartment building. He passed the mailman and made a mental notice to check his post on the way back up.
He'd decided that he needed to get outside more and do something to keep himself moving. They'd recommended it to him back in Boston, his Mom had practically begged him to have at least some sort of composure.
Apparently jogging around Seattle was something that normal people did, although he could've sworn that Andrew had always been more of a sailing around Truro guy. He'd only been jogging since he'd come back from his prolonged holiday vacation— he couldn't really recommend it.
At 10AM, he showered.
He went through his mail and immediately shredded all of the mail from Back Bay. He didn't need to read them, he already knew what they'd say. There were a few bills, ones that he needed to pay, and a few fliers that he threw in the trash.
He walked the length of the apartment and made himself another coffee. He hadn't drank coffee until he met Beth. He humoured himself with a few more job applications, scratching behind his ear as he applied for a tenancy at a local social worker centre, a counsellors and a clinic on the other side of the city. When his coffee was finished he found himself staring at the bottom of it, staring at the dregs left at the bottom.
At 10:30AM, he received a phone call. He didn't recognise the phone number. It wasn't withheld like the numbers he usually avoided, so he answered.
"Is this Charles?"
It was Dr Katherine Wyatt, the Head of the Department of Psychiatry at Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital. He replied yes and she greeted him warmly. For a moment, he wondered whether something had happened.
A brief flash of concern filled him— was Beth okay?
But then she continued talking and Charlie remembered that it was Beth and he really didn't ever need to worry about her. He was still sat at the dining table, a new coffee beside him and his psychiatry paper open on a word document in front of him.
"I'm pretty sure that it's clear to you from last week that we're a little short staffed in the Psychiatry department here at Seattle Grace," She chuckled a bit at the end as if to say that it was something that she was constantly plagued with. He smiled at that. He liked her. "I spoke to the Chief of Surgery and the Medical Directer and they both agreed that maybe it would be a great benefit to the department if you could join our staff."
A job proposal? Charlie hadn't anticipated that. The rest of their conversation consisted of him being flattered. He was beyond flattered.
He thanked her and told her that he would think about it— and then he turned his attention back to his word document and massaged a tense muscle at the back of his neck. He would have to talk to Beth about that.
At 11AM, he received a second phone call, but he let it go to voicemail.
He glanced over at Andrew's name as it came up and just continued on with his day. Charlie very briefly considered just declining it, but he knew that it would just make his brother call back. He continued working, not even bothering to listen to the message Andrew left.
There were certain things that Charlie couldn't be assed to do... and listening to his brother harp about how moving to Seattle was a bad idea was not one of them.
Andrew liked Beth. Charlie, actually, was utterly convinced that it was impossible not to like Beth. It was him who was the problem— Andrew wasn't Charlie's biggest fan after what had transpired between Thanksgiving and Christmas and now Charlie was trying his best to avoid it.
He rolled his eyes when Andrew called again. When would he get the message that he was fine?
Sending Dom to check up on him had been an asshole move.
At 11:34AM, Charlie turned off his computer and washed his coffee mug again.
He listened to one of Beth's classical tracks as he washed up from breakfast. She'd left a bottle of perfume by the door after a last-minute spritz and he smiled, placing it back in the bathroom. She'd also left notes littered across the couch, a surgical journal on the countertop. He picked up the wad of magazines, eyebrow raising when one caught his eye, a bookmark peeking out of the top of it.
Curiously, Charlie flipped open the page.
It was an entry on all of top surgical internship programs in the country, the newest release of all of the education rankings. He could see where Beth had gone through with a sharpie (the pen rolled out from the bottom of pile), circling ones that she seemed to like.
Briefly, Charlie found himself lingering, his mind wandering back to every time he'd told Beth that she could so easily go back into surgery if she wanted to.
Beth did want to become a surgeon. She'd been looking at surgical programs this whole time.
At 11:45AM, he shrugged on a jacket and set off for the lunch spot, walking past a certain surgeon's apartment as he did.
Every time he passed that door, he'd shoot it a wary glance, as if Mark was constantly stood there, an ominous shadow that would pounce at any moment. Charlie let out a breath, tugging his jacket a little tighter to his body.
At 11:55AM, Charlie arrived at the deli.
He was early. It was cute. He could see why Beth had chosen it.
He ordered a lemonade and chose a table outside. It was nice today, the weather was warmer than it had been the past few weeks. The end of February was being kind to them. He sat there with a pair of sunglasses on and stretched his neck in the sun: it was days like this that made him think about how he and Beth were going to go back to France in the summer. They'd booked the flights. He was looking forwards to it— well, maybe not for the interrogation he was going to get from Calum, but Southern France was quite possibly his favourite place in the world.
At 12:05PM, Beth was five minutes late.
Charlie didn't think much of it. He found a newspaper on the next table. He flipped through it, reading about some housing development outside of the city that had been petitioned against. He found the story amusing, he could almost hear Beth's exasperated breath when he showed her it— Charlie could see it now. Sat across from him, dropping her purse on the floor and shooting him that look.
"This," She'd say, jabbing a finger at the crinkled inky image of three middle-aged women, all looking scornful with picket signs. Beth would shoot him that look that told him that this boiled her down to her core. He liked the way she looked so cute when she was bothered by something, just the tiniest bit angry. "Is why I fucking left suburbia. These stilted Stepford Wives will complain about anything to make up for the fact that their husbands won't sleep with them anymore."
He liked how Beth made him laugh.
At 12:10PM, Beth was ten minutes late.
Again, he didn't really ponder on it too much. Maybe she'd gotten caught up with some work. Maybe she'd forgotten about a last-minute appointment. She did that sometimes, she had so much on her plate that sometimes stuff like that just went under her radar and knocked her off track a little bit.
Charlie set his cell phone out on the table, just in case.
At 12:30PM, Charlie wondered whether Beth was going to call to cancel.
She usually did when work went a little bit too crazy and she couldn't make it home for a dinner or an episode of Gossip Girl. Maybe her joke had jinxed it, maybe she'd gotten pulled into some mass trauma. Maybe she was absolutely floored with work. Maybe she didn't have time to call him.
At 12:34PM, Charlie decided to order for her. He knew her order. He handed over the money from his wallet but his hand gripped his cell phone the whole time.
For some reason, he felt like she needed to call him. Something felt off. When sat back outside and ate his lunch, he thought about how he had some unsourced anxiety. He'd developed a slightly impatient foot twitch as he continued to read through the newspaper.
At 12:55PM, Charlie got distracted by three police cars as they zoomed past him, down the room. His head followed them, mouth falling into a frown as he wondered what was going on to solicit such a police presence.
At 12:57PM, more police cars passed.
At 13:05PM, he heard the distance whirring of a helicopter overhead.
At 13:15PM, Charlie decided to leave.
He texted Beth, telling her that he'd gotten her food to go, and he tipped the staff, feeling bad for just loitering for an hour. As he went to shove in his chair, his phone started buzzing— it was a sudden reflex that made him answer it.
"Beth?" He didn't know where his breathlessness had come from.
"Sorry to disappoint but thank you for actually picking up..."
Fuck. Charlie hadn't looked at the caller ID.
Instead of Beth, he was greeted with his brother who seemed utterly amused by the sigh that he got in return. There was also a slight inflection of surprise in his tone. Andrew hadn't expected him to pick up. Charlie shoved in his chair rather enthusiastically, grabbed Beth's food and began to stroll down the side of the sidewalk.
"Congrats on the engagement... by the way."
"Thanks," Charlie didn't like Andrew's tone.
"Mom's furious with you," It was the nonchalant sibling tone that made Charlie roll his eyes. "First you leave Boston without telling anyone and now you get engaged without even leaving Mom a voicemail telling her the news?"
"You know what Mom's like..." Charlie said, momentarily breaking off to watch yet another police car to drive by. He grimaced at the fact that he was practically following them through downtown Seattle. "I would have woken up to a bunch of wedding planners outside my door. It would have spooked Beth."
"Still," Andrew said, sounding very briefly annoyed. "I've had to put up with her complaining about finding out about it from some Seattle Grace surgeon posting a congratulations post on Beth's Facebook wall..." There was a curt pause in which Charlie considered hanging up. As if he could sense it, Andrew was quick to continue. "I know you're mad at me—"
"I'm not," Charlie denied.
"You are," Andrew said quickly, "I know you don't really get angry or, really, show your emotions at all but— you're angry at me about Christmas—"
"I'm fine with Christmas—"
"You're angry about me firing you."
Charlie let in a tight breath.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"Andy-"
"I had to do it." It was the first time they'd talked since he'd left Boston. "It was for your own good, Charlie. I'm not just saying that because you're having a hard time at the moment... but I think that—"
"Wait."
At 13:18PM, Charlie was still on the phone with Andrew (which was 3 more minutes than he would have liked).
It was also the same time that he noticed the flashing lights down the street, roughly where the apartment building was. He craned his neck to look over towards it, cutting off Andrew as he attempted to figure out what was going on.
At 13:19PM, Andrew tried to speak again but Charlie told him that something was happening down the road.
He could see the helicopter now. It was hovering quite low in the sky. He couldn't tell what building it was over but it was near the apartment. His first thought was that something was happening in the apartment or maybe at Joe's, the bar a few doors down. He frowned and just continued his cautious walking.
At 13:22PM, Andrew gave up and just asked:
"How's Beth?"
"Uh," The sirens were getting louder the further he got down the road. "She's happy,, work's going really well— Uh, but we were supposed to meet up for lunch and I think there must've been some big trauma at work. I'm assuming she's really busy."
"Busy is good," Andrew said lightly, seeming just happy to have a conversation. "I'm really happy for you guys, you know? I know that you're really into her and everything and I'm really hoping that you've gone through for her is worth it—"
Charlie could hear the pause Andrew took as yet another police car flashed by, this time, not too soon flanked by a fire engine. Charlie stopped dead in the middle of the street, watching as they blazed past and took a left turn, driving away from his apartment building.
"What was that?"
"I think something's going on," Charlie said, as bewildered as his brother. People around him seemed to be as confused as he was. There were a few crowds forming, simultaneous movements in the direction of all of the commotion. He looked around, deciding that maybe it was just a better call for him to go home. "There's a lot of police cars and stuff— I think I was right about that mass casualty—"
"I'll check Twitter."
At 13:25PM, Charlie was listening as Andrew pulled up the social media application.
He was closer to the drama now— and he realised that it wasn't the apartment building that they were all flocking too. The street was in the process of being cordoned off. There were a lot of police officers suddenly, people trying to disperse the crowds. It wasn't Joes or any of the surrounding shops or cafes, it was what was over the road.
The hospital.
At 13:26PM, Andrew seemed to drop his phone. Charlie's brain began to join the dots.
There was this ball of dread that was slowly building in his chest. It began in his stomach and slowly ate him from the inside out. His face paled and he felt his skin begin to crawl. On the other end of the line, Andrew picked up his cell phone and swore faintly, reading whatever it was that the social media sites seemed to be saying.
At 13:27PM, Andrew made Charlie run.
"Seattle Grace Mercy West is trending—"
He didn't like Andrew's tone. But it wasn't that nonchalant sibling voice that had his stomach whirring, it was the intense shot of fear.
"Seattle Grace Mercy West gunman," The word made Charlie's chest seize, "Charlie, shit, Charlie—"
He didn't like what Andrew said next, either:
"They heard gunshots in the hospital."
At 13:28pm, Charlie realised why he didn't like jogging that much.
The closer he got to the hospital, the more he heard them. He could hear the gunshots.
If he didn't hear the word active shooter on a police radio, he would have dismissed them as something menial, as something that lingered in the background with not much thought.
Like taps on a very distant window.
At 13:29PM, Charlie realised that this really wasn't the best time for him to reprise his star-athlete days.
Ever since he'd had an awful injury he'd been unable to bring himself to train again. But now there was something within him that pushed him to sprint— he sliced through the crowds of people who were drawn forwards to the chaos like moths to light. He used everything he could remember from his days of Football practice and league games to lightly dance through the curious clots of pale-faced and wide-eyed people.
At 13:31PM, Charlie was held back by a police officer.
"Stand back," the officer said tightly, watching as Charlie heaved out breaths. Andrew was still on the call with him but he was long forgotten. His calls of Charlie? Charlie? were faded and distant. He placed his hands on his knees and dragged his eyes up to that big building. "This is a dangerous area at the moment—"
"My girlfriend—" Charlie said breathlessly, then corrected himself. "My fianceé— she works—"
"I'm afraid you can't go any closer," The policeman said, although here was a glimmer of pity in her eyes. Charlie found himself staring at the cracks in the sidewalk, wondering how the hell there was a gunman in a hospital. What sort of shit was that?? "We've got a current situation— I'm sorry we really can't let you—"
At 13:34PM, Charlie was forced to just watch. He took a few steps back and hung up on Andrew's call. He stared at the hospital, feeling his mind spin with thoughts.
Beth had missed lunch. Beth hadn't called him to cancel. Beth said she would be free. Beth didn't even text to cancel. Beth said that her last appointment was at 11:45. Beth didn't run late unless she had reason to. Beth ran like clockwork— Beth was a creature of habit, just like him.
He didn't like how suddenly his day had derailed.
***
At 11:34AM, Beth got shot.
Her day was not going very well.
***
MISSED CALL FROM CHARLIE 💜 (13:34)
MISSED CALL FROM CHARLIE 💜(13:36)
MISSED CALL FROM CHARLIE 💜 (13:38)
MISSED CALL FROM ANDREW (13:39)
MISSED CALL FROM CHARLIE 💜(13:40)
MISSED CALL FROM CHARLIE 💜(13:42)
MISSED CALL FROM CHARLIE 💜(13:44)
***
TEXT MESSAGE FROM ASSHAT (11:36)
SHOOTER IN HOSPITAL!!! DON'T COME INTO WORK!!!