"I didn't agree to this arrangement, Chief."
The chief of surgery, Dr. Richard Webber, sits idly in his chair behind his desk in his office. And to my knowledge, he's the only doctor who has an office.
Making him in control of everything.
"Dr. Phoenix —"
"Yes?"
A growl erupts from the back of my throat when he responds simultaneously. I angrily sit back down in the chair.
"Dr. Leven Phoenix. . ." Chief Webber clarifies. "As you know, your father is a highly esteemed surgical oncologist from the East Coast. And the hospital would benefit greatly from his hiring."
My arms cross over my chest. "Well, couldn't you have run this by me before hiring him?"
"I had mentioned to Dr. Shepherd —"
"Dr. Shepherd? Dr. Derek Shepherd?"
"Yes."
"Great." My lips tighten into a line. "The one warning I was given, and I ignored him before he could even say a word."
The older oncologist interlaces his fingers to form a ball. "Levie, Dr. Webber is an old friend of mine. He knows my illness has worsen. . .terminally."
"Do you want me to cry for you or something? Because I'm done pitying you." I refuse to look in his direction.
"I don't want you to pity me." He shakes his head.
"Good."
"Have you been receiving proper treatment for —"
"You don't need to know if I have or haven't."
"I'm old and have lived a life, darling. You have yet to —"
"Don't call me darling."
Silently, I turn to Chief Webber and cock my right brow. He shuts his eyes for a few moments, nodding in hesitation.
I grab my belongings before walking right out of the office. As soon as I'm well away, I release the breath I had been holding.
"Leven?"
Dr. Shepherd in his navy blue scrubs and tailored white coat. In his hand is a blood testing kit, and I know what's about to happen.
"Yeah, I'm coming."
I situate myself on the examination chair in the private room. The blinds are shut, and the door is closed. For some element of privacy.
"Look, I know I've been an absolute bitch this entire time."
"Oh, really? I couldn't tell."
My mouth twitches into a smile for half a second. "Leave the sarcasm to the professionals. But I know you're just trying to help, and I appreciate you conducting the blood test."
"He'll only be here for a short period of time." He carefully inserts the needle, to which I wince in light pain. "The last time I hurt someone with a needle was in my intern year."
"Well, I have a weak stomach when it comes to needles and. . .blood." I gulp as the red liquid flows through the tube.
"You're a doctor, Leven. A surgeon, for that matter."
"I'm only squeamish when it comes to my own blood."
A small chuckle leaves his lips as he stands up. Before either of us can say anything, our eyes lock just like in the O.R. weeks ago. This time, however, we are truly alone.
"All done. How do you feel?"
"I feel. . .good."
"Good."
"Good."
By the time I force myself out of the room, Cristina's dragging me down the hall and out into our favorite outdoor spot for lunch.
"What is the purpose for this hot dog eating contest?"
"Does everything have to have a purpose?"
"Fine." I unstrap the watch from Izzie's right wrist. "Going in three. . .two. . .one. . .go!"
Alex uses the inhaling strategy to finish his hot dogs while George prefers to scarf his down. On the other hand, Cristina stuffs just the meat without the bun.
"This is worse than watching —"
"Leven, are these your friends?"
The salt-and-pepper-haired man, already dressed in his dark blue scrubs, carries a tray with food from the cafeteria. All three players of the contest stop eating, and Izzie looks up from her flier.
"Is that —"
"The last names —"
"Surgical oncologist —"
"Why is your —"
"Could I speak to you privately, Dr. Phoenix?"
Without waiting for an answer, I leave the table and pull him inside the cafeteria. A few nurses and attendings greet him with waves and smiles, one of which comes from Dr. Burke. Walking past the last few tables, I notice Dr. Shepherd's concern-filled gaze tracking me.
Finally, once we reach the internal staircase, I shut the door behind us and simply glare.
"You don't get to know about my friends, my coworkers, or me." My fingertips dig into the back of my neck. "Did I not make that clear in the chief's office this morning?"
"Leven, I want to be a part of your life." He sets aside the lunch tray. "I know I haven't been the best father —"
A scoff slips from my lips. "That's like saying Ted Bundy was nothing more than a burglar."
"I don't have very long until. . .well, you know."
"Yeah, I know."
"And for whatever time I have left, I want to spend it mending my relationship with my daughter."
Tears prick my eyes. "You were never there for me." Anger seemingly builds up. "Not at my ballet recitals, or my prom night. . .the day she left."
"I lost her, too."
"Yet instead of comforting your daughter — as you call me — you turned to alcohol."
His jaw falls ajar, yet words don't come out. I take this as a white flag from his end and exit the stairwell instead, leaving him with his thoughts.
By the time I return to the table, Cristina's the only one left. I sit in my original chair, picking at the untouched salad.
"So. . .he's really in town?" She swallows the rest of her hot dog bun mush. "For good?"
In frustration, I drop the fork into the bed of salad. "Chief wants to reap the benefits of a famous surgical oncologist."
"We work in a big hospital. Huge."
"So?"
"There's a chance you won't even see him."
"Yeah, well, knowing him. . .he's gonna be everywhere."
The rest of the day is uneventful, except when I find most — if not all — of the interns gathered in the gallery to observe a surgery.
"McDreamy's being McDouchey. I hate him." Cristina slurps her third coffee of the day obnoxiously. "He's making me stand at the back of the O.R. while he reattaches Rick's fingers. I can't even touch a retractor."
Meredith shakes her head. "Truth: did you move in with Burke?"
"You moved in with Burke?" I glance over at her with raised brows. "You gave up your place?"
"I told him I moved in with him. I'm still keeping my old apartment."
Meredith and I share a look of disdain.
"What? I sleep with Burke every night. My clothes are there." Her shoulders shrug. "So I still have my apartment. Big deal."
"You have to tell him. And stop lying to him."
"Mer's right. Can't build a relationship off with lies."
"You two aren't that innocent, you know."
"How so?"
"Well, Meredith's beating around the bush made up of her feelings for George. And you're oblivious to McDreamy's romantic intentions."
The smirk on her face merely grows with every second of mine and Meredith's uncomfort. A chortling and slightly malicious chuckle leaves her lips.
Outside of the hospital, I watch as the rain pours heavily in the dimly lit sky, signaling to the end of yet another shift.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Dr. Shepherd, dressed in casual jeans and a jacket, stops beside me. The shoulder strap of his satchel sits across his chest as he slips his hands deep into his pockets.
"What were the results?"
"Leven, the results were, uh. . ."
"I'm a big girl, Dr. Shepherd. Just. . .spit it out."
"They were positive."