Payton Arizona
"Are you ready to get out of here?" Jackson asked me, zipping up my bag and setting it at the foot of my bed. I walked around the side of the bed and grabbed the discharge papers I needed Bailey to sign.
"Hell yes. I'm sick of these damn hospital rooms." I said. I'd been stuck in the same hospital room for almost a month, and the cable here sucked.
"You do know you still work here right?" Jackson laughed. I shot him a playful glare.
"Yes, I know I still work here." I shot back.
"Besides, you're gonna have to play patient for a little longer. The cut on your face is healing well and we wanna keep it that way. If it keeps on this track there will be barely a scar there." Jackson lectured.
"Yes, Mr Plastics Attending." I mocked a fake salute. It was Jacksons turn to shoot me a playful glare.
"Hey, that's Chief Plastics Attending to you."
"You got the job?!" I yelled and Jackson smiled at me and nodded. Jackson had found out that he was being considered for the Chief of Plastics a week into my recovery.
"Congratulations! How about you sign my discharge papers and we go celebrate?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
"You know I can't sign them, Bailey has to." I groaned at him and flopped down on the bed.
"I wanna leaveee." I droned and Jackson laughed, throwing a sock at my head. A few minutes later Bailey arrived and we sorted through all my discharge papers, finally getting them done.
"Freedom!" I yelled as Jackson and I walked out to the car. I was sick of being stuck in a hospital room and was grateful to be discharged but still, as soon as I dropped my stuff off at the house I was coming straight back to work.
"You know, just because you're discharged doesn't mean you don't have to take it easy still." Jackson told me.
"Mmm, I think it does." I said sarcastically. "Besides, I missed out on a whole month of residency. The only reason I'm not behind is because of all the surgeries you let me do and the hours I logged on Pierces situs inverses case. I'm starting my fourth year, I can't fall behind anymore or take it easy. The race for chief resident already started and I've just been sitting in a damn hospital bed."
"Don't even try and pull that on me." Jackson looked away from the road to smile at me. "Even sitting in a hospital bed for the past month, you're still in the race for Chief Resident. You've been doing surgeries most people don't do until fourth year since you were an intern. Don't tell me your behind. Besides, you kind of have no choice but to take it easy. You're not allowed to operate until you meet with the trauma therapist and he clears you for surgery."
"Ughhh." I threw my head back and groaned. "I don't need therapy. Telling or not telling some random guy about almost dying isn't gonna affect my surgical skills." The team of doctors who'd operated on me after the explosion had gotten together and discussed whether I was ready to come back to work or not. Nobody could agree on anything. Some of them thought that I'd been through so much already that the explosion wouldn't faze me, if anything, doing surgery would help me get past it. Others thought that I'd been through so much that the explosion would have tipped me over the edge. I guess that the only way to appease both sides was to make me get cleared by a therapist.
Jackson was someone who was opposed to me coming back to work. "Payton, you suffered a major trauma. Hell, you've suffered multiple in the past couple months. You could develop PTSD or-"
"Jackson, I already have PTSD. When I had the night terrors they were always the same things. You would come home from work and everything was normal and then you were dead. I would be doing Meredith's C-section and everything would be fine and then she would be dead. And the same with her baby. But then we started sharing the room and they went away. No more PTSD. I got over that and I'll get over this. Without a therapist." I lied straight through my teeth. Truthfully, I still had nightmares. And now they'd ventured from Jackson and I dating and Mer's C-section. Now, they were about Keith killing me, Derek dying, Alex dying, Maggie dying. On and on they went.
"But they didn't go away, did they?" Jackson looked at me as he pulled into the driveway. I was shocked, he'd shown no sign of knowing about them. "Payton, you know you can't lie to me. Meredith and Derek and Maggie and everybody else might buy the whole 'I'm fine' crap but I don't. I know you still have the dreams. The screaming may have stopped but the hyperventilating and clawing didn't. You may be able to cover up the scratches with makeup at work but we share a bed, remember? I can see them at night. You need to get help-" Jacksons voice was soft and his face sad.
"I don't need help!" I yelled, frustrated. "They're just dreams. I didn't need anyone to help me before and I don't need anyone to help me now!" I shouldered my bag and shoved the car door open. "They're just dreams." I said quietly once more before slamming the door and rushing inside.
Jackson and I's argument was instantly forgotten as I entered the house and saw a familiar face sitting at the counter drinking coffee.
"Derek!" I yelled. He hugged me tightly and I made a small noise. He instantly released me.
"What? What happened?" He asked.
"It's fine. Incision site's just a little sore." I couldn't wipe the huge grin off my face.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in DC, changing the world and having brunch with the President." Shortly after the explosion, Derek had been recruited to some top secret, government brain-mapping project. He wasn't supposed to be home for another two weeks, so seeing him was a shock.
"There's a medical conference in LA in a couple days and Grey Sloan was chosen to host it. They let me come home a little early so I could attend the conference." He explained. Jackson had joined us in the kitchen and I instinctively moved over to make room for him, momentarily forgetting I was frustrated with him.
We talked for a little longer about the conference and my recovery before I was interrupted by my pager.
"Ugh, I'm supposed to go see the stupid trauma counselor." I rolled my eyes and made no move to get up. Jackson shot me a look and Derek just looked between us, obviously amused.
"I'm not goi-" I started to protest but Jackson raised his eyebrows at me and I stopped. I crossed my arms over my chest and shot Derek a look that said 'can you really believe he's trying to make me go?'
"Go." He nodded his head toward the door. I let out a loud, exaggerated groan and grabbed my bag. "Stupid trauma counselor... gang up on me... agree with him.." I muttered under my breath as I left the kitchen and went to my car. I could hear them laugh and Derek say "I don't know how you handle her." And Jackson say something I couldn't make out.
--
"You're late." The counselor says. He was a fairly good looking older man who went by Dr Jennings.
"I know." I said, not bothering to apologize. I'd met with Jennings on multiple other occasions and very clearly expressed my opposition to the whole therapy thing. "Alright, let's just get this over with." I set my bag on the floor and plopped down in a chair.
"Dr Arizona, I've been talking to your colleagues and going through your file. It's quite... interesting, to say the least. I've heard that you and Dr Avery have a bit of a connection. Tell me about that." He leaned back in his chair and looked at me thoughtfully.
"Dr Avery and I don't have a 'connection.'" I immediately denied out of habit. "Were just friends, that's it. He doesn't have feelings for me."
"I wouldn't consider someone I share a bed with just a friend." He cocked an eyebrow at me.
"Well I do. We sleep in the same bed. That's the extent of it. There is no feelings involved. Dr Avery does not have feelings for me."
"Do you have feelings for him?" Jennings asked.
"I just said-"
"You said, and I quote 'Dr Avery doesn't have feelings for me.' Twice you've pointed out that he has no interest in a relationship but not once have you spoken about your feelings for him."
"I don't see how this pertains to my ability to go back to work." I said flustered.
"I'm not here to evaluate your ability to do your job. Im here to evaluate your mental stability. Based on what I've heard from your colleagues and yourself, I believe that you aren't being yourself."
"What do you mean? I'm the same me I've been since I stared here." Dr Jennings was starting to piss me off. Partly because somewhere deep down I knew he had a valid point.
"Last appointment you told me about everything you went through as a child and as a teenager. You had this persona that portrayed you not caring about what had happened anymore. And I believe that. I believe that you truly have moved past that part of your life. What I don't believe is that you're not letting it affect you."
"My childhood sucked, but you're right, I got past it. I went to school as early as possible and I became a surgeon. And now I have friends, a family. My past got me here but it's not affecting me anymore." I shook my head, confused and flustered.
"Then why did you deny Jacksons pursuits?" Dr Jennings quickly interjected. "You say he doesn't have feelings for you even when you know he does. He's pursued a relationship twice and you've turned him down, why? Because you're scared. You're distant, and not just from him. Abandonment issues are very common for children of your background-"
"I don't have abandonment issues." I shook my head at his ridiculous claim. My entire body was rigid with anger. "I denied Jackson not because I was scared to be left, but because I was scared of hurting him. He is someone I love with all my heart and I would hate myself if I hurt him. Not just him, everyone else in this goddamn hospital. They're all my family and I love them so yes, I keep my distance. That's why I hide parts of my past and that's why I'm hiding my cancer. I don't want to hurt them." Dr Jennings had found out about my cancer when he went through my file. Because of doctor-patient confidentiality he hadn't been able to tell anyone so it was still a secret.
Dr Jennings took his glasses off and started to laugh quietly.
"Why are you laughing?" I demanded.
"Never in all my years of doing this job have I ever met someone so wise yet so completely oblivious. You're a surgeon whose trained to psychologically help patients and yet you still don't realize that by being distant all you're doing is hurting your loved ones more. Every single person I talked to is worried about you. They've taken your distance as a sign of a mental breakdown. The best thing to do is let them in. It's the only way you'll ever be able to completely be yourself."
"So you're saying I should tell them everything?" I half asked, half stated. My mind immediately went to a conversation I'd had with Mark Sloane. It was a couple months before his and Lexie's death and I was sitting in the skills lab, suturing grapes. Jackson and I had been fighting and Mark had stormed into the room ready to lecture. He sat down and I remember he wouldn't stop pestering me until I'd admitted I had feelings for Jackson. He was the first person I'd ever admitted to. Hell, he made me admit it to myself. I explained to him my fear of hurting Jackson and all the other reasons I'd denied him. We talked for hours about it and by the time we were done we'd gone through hundred of grapes. I don't remember why he'd stormed in the lab that day but right now in this moment, I couldn't be more grateful for Mark Sloane and his unprofessional, meddling ways.
Dr Jennings never answered my question but I already knew what his answer was. I picked up my bag and stood up.
"Respectfully, you're a dick." I said before storming out of the room. I tore down the hallways, my mind set on one thing only.
"Is Dr Avery here?" I asked the nurse at the nurses station. I knew he wasn't scheduled for surgery for a couple more hours but he always liked to show up early to check on everything.
"I think he's in the gallery watching Dr Shepherds AVM." The nurse told me. I didn't bother thanking her as I practically ran through the hospital.
I burst into two OR gallery's unannounced, much to the surprise of their occupants. I was starting to reconsider what I was about to do when I saw Jackson standing in the gallery watching Amelia repair an AVM.
He looked at me in surprise as I burst into the room. "Payton, what are you-" I cut him off by placing my hands on both sides of his face and smashing my lips against his. For a second his body didn't respond and I started to regret the entire thing but suddenly his hands went down to squeeze my hips and he eased into it. When we finally came up for air I was panting.
"What was that for?" He asked, breathlessly.
I took a deep breath, "Jackson Avery, you annoy the shit out of me and you make me so angry and you've made me cry more times than I can count but more than that, you make me feel safe and you make me laugh and you make me happy. I don't know if this is stupid or a bad idea but someone told me that distancing myself would only hurt the people I love. So I'm closing the distance. I'm standing here and I'm telling you that- I love you."