(no subject)
Title: Ready For A Fall (33/?)
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Addison/Mark, Callie/George, Callie/Alex, (mentions of other canon couples)
Summary: Sometimes it hurts to fall, but if you're lucky someone may catch you. And they may be falling, too.
A/N: Callie hasn't been taking very good care of herself in case you guys didn't notice. She doesn't eat, she doesn't take her meds, she's just trying like hell to live on love and ... she can't. So, yeah. Let's get dramatic. ;)
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Thirteen
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Seventeen
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Twenty One
Twenty Two
Twenty Three
Twenty Four
Twenty Five
Twenty Six
Twenty Seven
Twenty Eight
Twenty Nine
Thirty
Thirty One
Thirty Two
*~*~*~*~*
Don't fall away
And leave me to myself
Don't fall away
And leave love bleeding in my hands
In my hands again
And leave love bleeding in my hands
In my hands again
And leave love bleeding in my hands
In my hands again
- Fuel
*~*~*~*~*~
The first week of November was intolerable for Callie and Alex. They helped Mark and Addison celebrate their engagement over a plate of crab legs and had to pull over on the way home because they were both so ill. The flu season had taken hold of them both and they spent all their time alternating between praying to the porcelain princess and trying not to kill each other. Callie blamed Cam for throwing her in the bay ... in between the choking and whining. After quarreling over who would puke where, Alex camped out in the guest bathroom, his pillow in front of the toilet and Callie staked claim to the master bath. They called back and forth to each other, an hourly litany of ‘are you okay’ and ‘yeah’ or ‘no’ ... depending on the circumstances.
It took six full days for either one of them to feel like humans again. Poor Fratelli had to go and stay with Addison, who had a running fit when Callie suggested that she *hold* the ferret. Addison and Mark took turns bringing food every day, masks over their faces, and gave them injection after injection of Reglan for the nausea and Tamiflu pills. When the miserable but recovering twosome finally returned to work, they were sluggish and pale. Callie’s new scrubs were so ill fitting that she had to tie the drawstring tight enough to bunch the top of her pants into an uncomfortable mess. Food turned her stomach and since Alex was in the same boat, he didn’t pressure her. Much.
When their first four days back at work ended, paving the way for two days off, Alex breathed a sigh of relief and headed into the locker room. He showered and dressed in his jeans before he walked, barefoot and shirtless, back to his locker. The others had trickled in and he greeted Meredith and Cristina, but ignored Izzie, who seemed to be doing the same thing to him.
Alex tugged on his socks and shoes and then stood, searching for the shirt he had worn in that morning. He found Callie’s panties in his bag and smiled, running his fingers over the red lace. A paper was pinned to the crotch that read, ‘Guess what I’m not wearing’.
"Are those panties?" Cristina snatched them and held them up by the spaghetti string. "Callie likes lace? I had her pegged for commando.Wonder what Bailey would do if I put these on the board."
Alex yanked them from her hand and put them in his pocket. "You need to get laid, Yang."
"Hey, what is that on your chest?" Cristina squinted her eyes at Alex, then wrinkled her nose when she saw the unmistakable red lips. "Okay, that’s beyond grotesque."
"What is?" Izzie asked, closing her locker and turning around. Her eyes widened when she saw the tattoo. "Is that permanent?"
"You bet your ass it is." Alex glanced down at Callie’s kiss and rubbed his thumb over it. They had gone back to the tattoo parlor the previous day to have one more thing added and it was still tender to the touch. "Very permanent."
Meredith grinned at him, leaning closer to see the detail. "I think it’s, well, I won’t say beautiful, but -"
"You can say beautiful. It’s part of her." Alex grinned. "Her lips make me crazy."
"Well, yeah. They move and sound comes out." Izzie rolled her eyes and then realized that silence had fallen all around her. She tried to play it off when she saw the look on Alex’s face. "Haha, I made a funny."
"No, you didn’t." Alex pulled his shirt on, glaring at her. "You just proved that you’re still a bitch."
Izzie’s jaw dropped. "You don’t get to call me a bitch! A few weeks ago you were-"
"Delusional," he cut in. "I was delusional enough to think that you had located the one human cell you still have in your body and could use it to become a decent person. Clearly, I was wrong."
"I’m not a decent person? *I’m* not?" Izzie pointed her finger at him. "What have you done that’s so great? Besides shack up with a married woman and live off her money? And -"
"Let’s get something straight," Alex interrupted. "I don’t give a flying fuck what you think, but you’re going to stop dogging Callie. Especially to me. We’re not friends, Izzie. We’ll never be friends. All you are to me ... is just a mistake that won’t go away."
"Scoreboard. Alex, ten. Izzie, none," Cristina said, tying her shoelaces. "And you can’t say shit about him hooking up with a married person, Iz. You’re the reason she’s getting a divorce."
Izzie ignored her. "Maybe Callie would like to know that you kissed me and that -"
"I already know," Callie replied, walking from the back of the room, where she had been changing clothes at her own locker. "And I don’t give a flying fuck either because mistakes happen. I should know."
Meredith cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Callie, did you get a tattoo also?"
Smiling, Callie nodded. "I did."
"So, share!" Cristina motioned for her friend to display the ink. "Unless it’s in places that only Dr. Montgomery should see."
"I’m not quite that brave." Callie happily unzipped her jeans and slipped them down on the right side, displaying the rose on the front of her hip.
Cristina sighed and shook her head. "This from the girl who said she’d never wear a bow on her ass or flowers in her hair. Now you have a flower on your hip which is your front ass ... in a way. I’m so disappointed. You’ve gone soft."
"Shut up," Callie told her, a twinkle in her eyes. Izzie was trapped between Meredith and Cristina and she had the distinct feeling that it had been intentional. The blond looked like a deer frozen in headlights.
"‘You belong to me, love Alex’," Meredith read, sitting down on the bench to get a better view. "Aww, that’s so sweet."
"It’s our song," Alex trailed his fingers over the new words on Callie’s hip, which had scabbed over. He had the same spiraling script over the tattoo on his chest. "She sang it on our first date and we realized it was us."
"The lyrics could not *be* more us." Callie pulled her pants back up and buttoned them. A sharp pain sliced through her side and she jumped a little. It had been aching for days, but it had never felt like a knife before.
"You okay?" Meredith asked, looking up at Callie, who nodded at her.
"So, which song is it? ‘You Belong To Me’? Which version?" Cristina stuffed her dirty scrubs in her bag.
"The old one. Patsy Cline did it and so did Dean Martin," Callie replied. "You know the one ... see the pyramids along the Nile, watch the sunrise on a tropic isle. That one."
"It’s because she likes to travel," Alex said. "And she can go to Algiers, to the Nile, or fly her plane across the ocean ... but she’s still mine."
"And I’ll always come back," Callie assured him. "Because for some reason I seem to be hooked, Jock Strap."
"I’m officially dying from cute overload." Cristina got to her feet and poked Callie in the hip, causing her to wince. "You should eat more and tattoo less, Torres. You’re going to look like Amy Winehouse if you don’t start consuming more than semen."
Callie turned and kissed Alex, saying, "Are you ready to go? I’m hungry."
"Ew. Ew. Ew." Yang poked her in the hip again. "Skank."
"Crack whore," Alex and Callie said simultaneously, causing everyone except Izzie to laugh.
The door of the locker room opened abruptly and hard enough for it to hit the wall. Addison and Bailey practically charged into the room. When Addison saw Callie, she leaped up and down, clapping happily. Callie looked at Alex and said, "Is she trying to tell us that she got a spanking again?"
"No, pervert. You are not going to believe this!" Addison cried. "I was killing time in the clinic waiting for Mark to finish his surgery so I was answering the Ava line and Oprah Winfrey’s people called! They want to feature her on their holiday show about missing people!"
"Get out!" Callie looked at her friend in disbelief. "Really?"
"And that’s not all," Bailey said, beaming in triumph. "She’s donating two million dollars to the clinic and will mention it on her show as well."
"Callie, this is huge! High five!" Addison pushed Alex out of the way and slapped her palm against Callie’s, then hugged her so hard that Callie was sure her ribs were breaking. She finally let go after Callie groaned. "We *must* celebrate!"
Callie massaged her right side, which continued to throb so much that she sat down on the bench. She rested her elbows on her thighs and leaned forward, taking several deep breaths. Alex kneeled down in front of her and said, "Are you talking to the Opus Dei again?"
"No. I think I’m still sick."
Addison put her hand on her forehead and nodded. "She’s got a fever."
"I’m gonna barf if you don’t shoot me up with Reglan, guys."
"I’ll get it," Meredith said. "Chart or no chart?"
"Take it from the clinic," Bailey said. "I’ll cover it somehow. Just like I did all the other doses you gave them."
*~*~*~*~*~
"So, then she was all like ‘oh, it’s our song and aren’t we so ridiculously happy and perfect and great’ and he was like ‘you’re not my friend because you’re a mistake’ and she was all, ‘ooooh, I’m so sick’ so she could get all the attention. I was like ‘gag me until I’m freakin’ dead’." Izzie took a deep breath and finished off her third donut, looking at George. "Hello? I’ve finished ranting so it’s your turn."
George chewed his hot dog and swallowed before he spoke. "I had a pretty good day, actually. No ranting here."
"Did I mention that they have their names on each other!? Like *on* each other. In ink."
"Did I mention that I was asked to scrub in on a Humpty Dumpty for tomorrow? You think Cristina would give me her notes?"
"George-"
"Because I’m not really getting enough information online about it and she actually performed one with Burke. I’ll have to ask her."
Izzie picked up her burger and bit into it. "Look at what they’re making me do! I ate three donuts before dinner! And I’m still starving."
George smiled at her. "You may want to hurry. Our movie starts in thirty minutes. Hey, do you want to race against me in the arcade?"
"No, George. I don’t want to play a video game. I hate video games. I don’t want to race or do anything except have you agree with me that Callie is a -"
"I have more in common with Alex than with you on this. I don’t want to hear it." He wadded up his food wrappers and tossed them into the trash can. The food court of the mall was crawling with people and he grinned when he saw Addison and Mark holding hands nearby. "They’re getting married."
"Callie and Alex!?"
George shot her a pointed look. "No, Izzie. Dr. Sloan and Dr. Montgomery." He indicated where they were with his head.
Izzie turned and looked at the duo, who were waiting in the Dippin’ Dots line. She watched as Mark wrapped his arms around the red head and kissed her forehead. "You think that’s the reason that Derek’s been such a bastard lately? Meredith said that he hasn’t said more than five words to her and he hasn’t been to the house at all."
"I heard a rumor that he had the flu." George finished off his soda. "He’s been off for a few days."
"I think it’s the engagement." Izzie returned to her burger and devoured it. "Would it bother you if Callie and Alex -"
"We’re not talking about that." George gripped his cup so tight that the lid popped off. He rubbed a hand over his face and blurted out, "What did her tattoo look like?"
She ate a French fry before she answered. "Yellow rose with red tips and I thought you didn’t want to hear it."
"You said they had their names on each other."
Izzie nodded and told him about the song title. She bit her bottom lip and said, "Uh, he got her kiss tattooed over his heart. It’s unmistakably hers. Her lips are -"
"Better than Angelina Jolie’s." George put the lid back on his empty cup and stood. "We better go watch the movie before I curl into a fetal position."
There was a line outside the theater and they found themselves standing behind Addison and Mark, who were enjoying their ice cream and joking with one another. Izzie’s eyes widened when she saw the rock on Addison’s hand. "Your ring is incredible," she said, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
Addison looked down at the diamonds and nodded. "It is. And it’s heavy. Too bad I didn’t have this on when I slapped your face." Grinning innocently, she added. "Haha, I made a funny."
Mark smiled down at Addison and whispered something in her ear that caused her to giggle like a schoolgirl. He goosed her in the ribs and she smacked his hand. With a groan of pain, Sloan held up his hand, which was scratched all over. "I’m going to kill Callie. That damn thing she calls a pet is rabid."
"Callie has a pet?" George asked.
Addison nodded. "Alex gave her a ferret for her birthday. She is, after all, a ferret loving whore, right?"
"Hey, didn’t you ask me to race you in the arcade?" Izzie asked suddenly. "We have time for a good game, George."
"Yeah, we do."
The coming attractions were well under way when they returned and every seat was filled except for a couple in the front row. It was a hideous way to watch the movie.
But George had become very familiar with hideous.
He looked at it in the mirror every day.
He just wondered when Izzie would look into hers and see the same thing.
*~*~*~*~*~*~
The camera crew from the Oprah Winfrey Show arrived four days later. Alex was asked to detail the ferry accident and how he had stumbled onto Ava. If he was nervous ... it didn’t show. He spoke with confidence and clarity. Callie, who was feeling only moderately better, was certain that the footage of Ava and Alexandria would surpass anything that the media outlets had put together. The crew wrapped on the Eighteenth and she surprised Ava with a copy of Samurai Ambush: Total Destruction of her own and hung around to play it with her.
Callie’s hand went to her side several times and she found herself eating Tylenol like candy.
Eight big names had signed on to perform at the fund raiser and the publicity was huge. Jennifer Lopez actually plugged it on The David Letterman Show, talking at length about affordable health care. Two days before Thanksgiving, Callie received word that the Key Arena had sold out for the star studded event and the ticket cost (at one hundred and fifty bucks each for the nosebleed section and five hundred for the floor) had not deterred the fans.
Callie did her trademark happy dance of joy and George, who happened to be standing nearest her, joined in like he always did. Both of them laughed their asses off when they realized what they had done ... what they had always done. George, apparently encouraged by the easy interaction, reiterated that his mother would love to see Callie for Thanksgiving dinner and as an afterthought ... told her that she could bring Alex along if she wanted.
"We’re going to Addison’s that day." She gave him a small smile and raised her right arm to see if it would help lessen the aching pain that was plaguing her. "But I appreciate the offer. Tell Louise that I’d love to stop by the day after and eat all the leftovers."
George looked down at his wife’s body and shook his head. "I don’t think you eat at all."
"I had a huge breakfast this morning. Plus, I did have the flu."
"Three weeks ago."
"I think it’s hanging around. I’ve been taking Reglan around the clock just to stop puking."
"You want me to make a chart and have someone look at you?"
"No, I think that I just jumped back into work too quickly. I’ve been so busy running all over town to get everything organized for the clinic that I feel like I walk twenty miles a day. Plus, Fratelli is into everything so it’s like I’m chasing a toddler from the moment I get home to the time he goes to sleep."
"Fratelli?"
"Our ferret." Callie grinned and held up her finger, which was bandaged. "He loves to hate me. Alex is apparently the better parent because -" She trailed off when George’s smile faded. "So, uhm, I met your Uncle Hal. He looks so much like your dad."
"Yeah, he told me that you had stopped by the station with the details of the talent competition. And just like my dad ... he went on and on about you."
Callie laughed. "No offense, but I think he’d go on and on about anything. The man can talk."
"That he can." George took a deep breath and pointed at the stack of charts. "Bailey sent me down here to be useful. Is there anything I can take?"
"I think everything’s covered. I already offered to hang out and help, but they refused." She shrugged.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah."
"You haven’t had anything to drink since - you know. Right?"
"No, I haven’t."
"The day that I brought you home from the hospital you - you drank again. Why did you do that?" He saw the way her expression changed. "Please, tell me. Just ... be brutally honest."
"Okay, I can do brutal. It was the only way I could be near you. I don’t think you’ll ever know how much you hurt me, George. And I can’t tell you because the words it would take to convey it haven’t even been invented yet. It was *that* bad." She felt her eyes well with tears and looked away. "I did try to kill myself. I know I was convincing with the denial, but I knew what I was doing."
George looked like she had slapped him. "So, instead of being with me you’d rather be dead."
"No. I didn’t want to be with *me*. I hated myself more than I hated you. I hated that I wasn’t blond, I wasn’t a super model. I hated that I wasn’t your best friend. I hated myself for being willing to take you back even though I knew that I’d never be able to let my guard down with you. I hated myself for being willing to *settle* for something I wasn’t happy with." She reached out and touched his hand. "I feel like I settled enough while we were dating. I settled into last place and I stayed there without really protesting, so it’s not your fault that you didn’t change after we got married. It’s my fault for believing you would."
He took her hand in his. "If it’s any consolation ... I hate myself enough for the both of us."
"Don’t." She smiled at him. "Because the minute you stop hating yourself ... everything in the world goes from black and white to vivid color. Everything makes you smile and you laugh at stupid jokes you’ve heard a million times because ... you’re free. Be free, George. Everyone makes mistakes. Don’t hold yourself hostage for it, because I forgive you."
George hugged her. She still smelled the same, but her slimmer body felt foreign in his arms. "You’re wrong about not being my friend. You were my friend all along."
She hugged him back. "I think that’s all we were meant to be."
He finally let her go and she playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Who are you bringing to the fund raiser?"
"Izzie’s forcing me to be her date and since she paid for my ticket ... I have to go."
"She’ll probably need you. Denny’s family has agreed to let us put together a videography of his life. They’ve sent home movies and your uncle is putting it all together to show at the telethon, but we’ll also be broadcasting it at the arena during the concert." She took a deep breath, which caused her side to renew its efforts to drive her insane. "Addison is technically supposed to be working with Izzie on this thing, but I have yet to see the fruits of that labor. So, prepare Izzie for the video."
"I will." His pager went off and he groaned. "I guess I better go." Looking into her eyes, he said, "Just for future reference, being able to talk to you like this makes it better, easier, for me to see in vivid color."
She watched him walk away.
It made it easier for her, too.
*~*~*~*~
The day after Thanksgiving, Callie kept her promise to visit Louise. On the drive out, she felt the worst fatigue of her life and her stomach was so tender and bloated that she had worn sweat pants instead of jeans. By the time she arrived at the O’Malley house, she had stopped the car to vomit three times. Louise took one look at her, pushed her on the sofa, and stuck a thermometer under her tongue.
Her temperature was one hundred and three. Callie asked for a washcloth and rubbed it over her face. Clutching her side, she began to cry and told Louise that something was wrong.
Louise called the ambulance and rode inside with her, bemoaning the fact that she had forgotten to call George and had left her cell phone at home. By the time they arrived at the hospital, Callie was either sleeping or had lost consciousness. Louise followed the stretcher into the emergency room, wringing her hands. She spotted a familiar face and called, "Dr. Stevens! Dr. Stevens, it’s Callie! She’s sick. Can you page George and - and her boyfriend?"
Izzie took one look at Callie and rushed to the phone, where she paged both men to the ER, stat. Yanking gloves on, she rushed into the room right behind Mark, who was the on duty attending for the day. "What do we know?"
The medics rambled off Callie stats and Louise explained that she had complained of intense pain in her side. Mark palpated Callie’s stomach and said, "Abdominal distension. She’s presenting with ascites."
"What is that?" Louise asked.
Izzie looked at her and said, "It’s a build up of fluid in her peritoneal cavity."
"What does it mean?"
"We don’t know yet," Mark told her, lifting Callie’s eyelids. "She’s jaundiced. Somebody page the Chief! And get an IV line started, people!"
Alex arrived first and skidded to a halt when he saw Callie. His heart stopped beating, he was sure of that. He stood at the foot of the bed, waiting impatiently for the EMT’s to leave before he rushed to her side. Two attempts at waking her up yielded nothing so he looked at Mark. "What happened?"
Mark listened to Callie’s heart, then her lungs. "Alex, this is very important. Has she been taking any medication?"
"Uh, Tylenol. She - she’s been taking it every day. I can't remember what she said was hurting her. And - and she had Tamiflu a while back and she’s been taking pretty strong doses of Reglan because she can’t seem to kick the nausea."
George, who was standing in the doorway, said, "All of those drugs are hepatotoxic. With her liver ... did you monitor her enzymes at all during this time?"
Alex shook his head, his eyes never leaving Callie’s face. "I don’t -- no, she canceled her appointment and was supposed to reschedule it, but .. I don’t know."
"Smart! Really smart!" George snapped. "Her blood alcohol was at a fatal level and it never crossed your mind to keep an eye on possible damage?! And you say you love her!?"
"Stevens, get him out of here," Mark said. "And page Addison. I want an ultrasound of her liver and I want it done by the best."
"Alex?" Callie stirred and reached to her left, which was his side of the bed on Goon Docks. "I don’t feel good. Can you call in at work for me? I’m just ... ugh."
He took her hand in his and tried to keep the shock off his face when he saw how yellow her eyes were when they found his. "Baby, you’re in the hospital."
"Oh. When is my shift over? I think I better go home."
He brushed her hair back, feeling how hot she was, and watched her close her eyes again. "What’s her temp?"
"One hundred and three." Mark watched as Alex stepped aside to let Izzie start the IV. "Draw her blood first, Stevens. I want GGT, AST, and ALT. Make sure they check her for hepatitis."
Alex gasped. "You can’t think it’s alcoholic hepatitis. She hasn’t been drinking, Mark."
"I’m being cautious," Mark replied. "She didn’t present with irregularities after she binged on the bourbon. She could have developed a fatty liver that she wasn’t aware of because she didn’t keep the damn follow ups! And it never crossed my mind before I shot her full of Reglan and fed her all those fucking Tamiflu doses that if her liver *was* compromised ... that could compound it."
"Surely if she had liver -"
"Look at her, Karev! She’s yellow!" Mark rubbed the stubble on his face. "I hate teaching hospitals. Hate. Only in a teaching hospital would the plastic surgeon be dealing with this shit! Where the hell is Addison?"
"Right here," Addison replied, pushing the ultrasound machine in front of her. She almost tripped over her feet when she saw Callie. "They didn’t tell me it was her. Is she - she’s pregnant?"
"I need a very clear look at her liver." Mark stepped out of the way as Addison wheeled the machine to Callie’s right side.
Wasting no time, Addison cut away her friend’s shirt and spread gel over her side. Her hands were shaking when she lowered the imager. Callie cried out when Addison pressed against her ribs and tried to push her away. Alex caught both of her hands and held them over her head, talking softly to her. It didn’t seem to help, she was sobbing as Addy poked and prodded.
"Her liver doesn’t look enlarged, but, wait ... that looks like a little swelling right there. Yeah, there’s definite swelling." Addison said quietly. "It’s probably because of her diet. She’s not -"
"I think it’s pharmaceutical." Mark explained his theory, watching as Addison’s face fell. "We didn’t think about it before we treated her so aggressively for the flu."
"Oh my god," Addison said, rubbing Callie’s arm. "Order the liver biopsy, Mark."
"The ascites is so severe that I don’t want to do the biopsy yet. Can you get a catheter started, Addy? I'm going to load her up with diuretics." Reaching for Callie’s chart, he opened it and flipped through. "Somebody go light a fire under the lab’s ass! I want those blood tests now."
Callie clutched her stomach, drawing her knees upward. "God, it hurts."
Mark palpated her again and swore. Her stomach had gotten larger and the rate that she was distending was alarming. He took the ultrasound from Addison and ran it over Callie’s belly. "We’re going to have to drain the fluid. I can’t give her anything for pain until I get those results."
"Drain it anyway," Callie cried.
"Check her pancreas," Alex said. "It could be pancreatic ascites."
Addison took the imager back from Mark and nodded, zooming in on the screen. "Bingo. Definite pancreatitis."
The Chief arrived and ordered antibiotics.
He also ordered the liver biopsy to be performed after the abdominal fluid was drained.
Her test results had come back.
Callie’s liver enzymes were off the charts.
*~*~*~*~*~
Alex sat in the waiting room, between Meredith and Cristina. It was enough that they were there. George and his mother sat across from them and it helped the tension he felt that the two girls had chosen to sit beside him, like loyal bookends. He had watched helplessly as George signed all the consent forms. It was a painful reminder that Callie was still legally married and her *husband* could make her medical decisions. Chief Webber had spoken to George and not to Alex as he explained the procedures, which he did at length for Louise’s benefit.
They had been waiting for almost two hours. The biopsy should have taken twenty minutes. Leaning forward, Alex put his head in his hands and stared down at his shoes. Callie was sick and he had known it. He’d been telling her to let Bailey do a comprehensive panel, but she had insisted that it was exhaustion. He had watched her clothing grow increasingly baggier and never equated that dramatic weight loss went hand in hand with a myriad of liver diseases. And pancreatitis. He had been so blinded that she was there with him that he hadn’t bothered to look past her bravado. All the times she jumped and grabbed her side ... he believed her when she said it was a cramp or a muscle spasm.
He rubbed his temples with his thumbs when the first tear fell. Because he was looking down, it dropped onto his scrub pants and another fell behind it. Cristina passed him a tissue and said, "Stop doing that. It’s not going to do any good and you shouldn’t worry until you know there’s a reason."
Several more tears fell and George watched every last one of them. Alex Karev actually having tear ducts defied all logic, but he was *crying*. Because of Callie. Shifting in his seat, George looked away. He knew exactly how it felt. He had been there, done that. A lot. When Alex blew his nose, he glanced back at him. Maybe, he thought, Alex really did love Callie ... but ... he doubted it.
"Did you call her parents, Alex?" Louise asked softly, gently.
"They’re on the way," Alex replied, still cradling his head. The walls were closing in on him and as he listened to George and Louise make small talk about their Christmas plans, he was visited by the urge to throw his chair at them. Callie was *sick*. Who cared if Christmas even came? Getting to his feet, he said, "I’m going to go and -"
Mark opened the door and his eyes found Alex. "I’m sorry we made you wait so long. We rushed the results of the biopsy and just heard back. The good news is that she does not have hepatitis or cirrhosis, which given the circumstances is nothing short of amazing. The bad news is that she has drug induced cholestasis. That coupled with the pancreatitis has put us in a very difficult position because the medication she needs could exacerbate one problem or the other."
Louise had gotten to her feet. "What does all that mean?"
"Cholestasis means that her liver is not producing the bile between the liver and small intestine. That means that her bloodstream is carrying a waste product and it’s accumulating. It's because she was mixing liver damaging medications," George replied. "And the pancreatitis is really not that uncommon. We see it all the time."
Mark held up a clipboard and a pen. "Dr. O’Malley, I need you to sign a consent form for a jejunostomy feeding tube."
George accepted the board with a frown. "It's so severe that you have to bypass the pancreas and go straight into the bowel with it? You can't do it nasally?"
"No. We can't," Mark replied. "She needs nutrients and she can’t eat until her pancreas settles down. That could take several days. Her potassium is low, her electrolytes are imbalanced, and her magnesium is pathetic."
George glanced at Alex, who looked as if he had aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Alex, are you okay with this? Do you ... have a preference?"
Alex looked shocked that his opinion was being asked at all. "She’s gonna be mad as hell, but it has to be done."
"What does that mean? The jeju - whatever," Louise inquired.
"We'll be inserting a tube laprascopically into her abdomen instead of through the nostril. There's less risk for infection and like O'Malley said ... we need to bypass her digestive system," Mark replied, accepting the clipboard again after George scrawled his name on it. He picked up the phone and called the OR, informing Webber that they had gotten the consent. "We should be finished in an hour and then you can see her. She’ll be in the ICU."
Alex looked at George as Mark left the room. "Thank you for including me in that."
"Do you have a minute? I’d like to talk to you in private," George said.
"I was about to go to the chapel, actually. Wanna go?"
"Sure," George replied, then looked at Meredith and Cristina. "Could you guys hang out with my mom for a while? Explain it all a little better?"
They both nodded and watched silently as the men left the room.
In the elevator, George put his hands in his pockets and said, "I was wrong to say what I did to you earlier. I shouldn’t have blamed you. I know what that felt like after she drank so much. Everyone blamed me and they were right, but it still sucked."
Alex leaned his head back against the wall. "I should have forced her to follow up. I could have done the blood work myself. She crawled my ass about being so over protective, though, so I stopped pushing her."
"I’ve yet to see anyone who could force her to do anything."
"You’ll see it everyday when she gets better. The kids gloves are officially off."
Neither George nor Alex spoke as the elevator opened and they walked to the chapel. It was empty and George watched as Alex walked forward and lit a candle, then bowed his head. He saw the way Alex wiped at his eyes when he finally lifted his head and knew that he was crying again. It made George feel sorry for him ... almost. "Are you Catholic?" he asked.
Alex shook his head, still facing away from George. He shouldn’t have been embarrassed by his emotions, but he was. Callie would tell him that he was not a jock anymore. "No, but Callie is. Or at least that’s how she was raised. She dragged me along to a service on Thanksgiving morning and it was actually pretty ... decent. It made her happy."
George sat down on the front pew, studying the other man. "You make her happy and I hate you for that. For doing what I should have done. All I can think is that you stole my wife and -"
"I didn’t steal your wife. You gave her away." Alex swiped the tears off his face and turned. "You practically begged me to take her."
"No, I didn’t. I was trying to make it work. You knew that and you still-"
"Whatever, dude." Alex shook his head. "Your marriage ended when you cheated. The fact that I was there at all is *your* fault. You demolished her so you’ll have to forgive me if I have no remorse for doing what you *should* have done."
"I just - I have a hard time believing that you're in this thing with her for the right reasons. She's not your type."
"I know that a lot of people think I’m with her for her money or for a million other wrong reasons, but I’m with her because I love her," Alex snapped. "I love her. And I'm not talking to you about what we have together or what she means to me because she *knows*. I don't have to justify shit to anyone."
"I'm not asking you to. I just think that -"
"Do you get that she could die? Do you get that her liver could be -"
"You know that drug related cholestasis usually clears up with minimal damage once the toxins are filtered out." George cleared his throat. "Besides, I had something to say to you.
"Then spit it out."
George exhaled and said, "It’s Izzie. Don’t repeat this. Dr. Gellar told her that she has post traumatic stress disorder. From Denny’s death and the inheritance and stuff. She’s been taking Zoloft for over a week now. For a bunch of doctors we sure do miss the obvious even when it's staring us in the face."
Alex tilted his head a little. "Here’s something obvious that I didn’t miss. Your wife is sick as hell and as usual ... you’re thinking about Izzie Stevens instead of her. That’s why your marriage ended, O’Malley."
"It explains a lot, Alex!" George shot to his feet. "I thought you’d want to know! You did claim to love Izzie too, right?"
"I was wrong. You should know how it is ... you did claim to love Callie too, right?"
"Hey-"
"I’m going back to the waiting room. Maybe you should go find Izzie. I’m sure she’s missing your head up her ass by now."
*~*~*~*~*~
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Addison/Mark, Callie/George, Callie/Alex, (mentions of other canon couples)
Summary: Sometimes it hurts to fall, but if you're lucky someone may catch you. And they may be falling, too.
A/N: Callie hasn't been taking very good care of herself in case you guys didn't notice. She doesn't eat, she doesn't take her meds, she's just trying like hell to live on love and ... she can't. So, yeah. Let's get dramatic. ;)
One
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Five
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Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty One
Twenty Two
Twenty Three
Twenty Four
Twenty Five
Twenty Six
Twenty Seven
Twenty Eight
Twenty Nine
Thirty
Thirty One
Thirty Two
*~*~*~*~*
Don't fall away
And leave me to myself
Don't fall away
And leave love bleeding in my hands
In my hands again
And leave love bleeding in my hands
In my hands again
And leave love bleeding in my hands
In my hands again
- Fuel
*~*~*~*~*~
The first week of November was intolerable for Callie and Alex. They helped Mark and Addison celebrate their engagement over a plate of crab legs and had to pull over on the way home because they were both so ill. The flu season had taken hold of them both and they spent all their time alternating between praying to the porcelain princess and trying not to kill each other. Callie blamed Cam for throwing her in the bay ... in between the choking and whining. After quarreling over who would puke where, Alex camped out in the guest bathroom, his pillow in front of the toilet and Callie staked claim to the master bath. They called back and forth to each other, an hourly litany of ‘are you okay’ and ‘yeah’ or ‘no’ ... depending on the circumstances.
It took six full days for either one of them to feel like humans again. Poor Fratelli had to go and stay with Addison, who had a running fit when Callie suggested that she *hold* the ferret. Addison and Mark took turns bringing food every day, masks over their faces, and gave them injection after injection of Reglan for the nausea and Tamiflu pills. When the miserable but recovering twosome finally returned to work, they were sluggish and pale. Callie’s new scrubs were so ill fitting that she had to tie the drawstring tight enough to bunch the top of her pants into an uncomfortable mess. Food turned her stomach and since Alex was in the same boat, he didn’t pressure her. Much.
When their first four days back at work ended, paving the way for two days off, Alex breathed a sigh of relief and headed into the locker room. He showered and dressed in his jeans before he walked, barefoot and shirtless, back to his locker. The others had trickled in and he greeted Meredith and Cristina, but ignored Izzie, who seemed to be doing the same thing to him.
Alex tugged on his socks and shoes and then stood, searching for the shirt he had worn in that morning. He found Callie’s panties in his bag and smiled, running his fingers over the red lace. A paper was pinned to the crotch that read, ‘Guess what I’m not wearing’.
"Are those panties?" Cristina snatched them and held them up by the spaghetti string. "Callie likes lace? I had her pegged for commando.Wonder what Bailey would do if I put these on the board."
Alex yanked them from her hand and put them in his pocket. "You need to get laid, Yang."
"Hey, what is that on your chest?" Cristina squinted her eyes at Alex, then wrinkled her nose when she saw the unmistakable red lips. "Okay, that’s beyond grotesque."
"What is?" Izzie asked, closing her locker and turning around. Her eyes widened when she saw the tattoo. "Is that permanent?"
"You bet your ass it is." Alex glanced down at Callie’s kiss and rubbed his thumb over it. They had gone back to the tattoo parlor the previous day to have one more thing added and it was still tender to the touch. "Very permanent."
Meredith grinned at him, leaning closer to see the detail. "I think it’s, well, I won’t say beautiful, but -"
"You can say beautiful. It’s part of her." Alex grinned. "Her lips make me crazy."
"Well, yeah. They move and sound comes out." Izzie rolled her eyes and then realized that silence had fallen all around her. She tried to play it off when she saw the look on Alex’s face. "Haha, I made a funny."
"No, you didn’t." Alex pulled his shirt on, glaring at her. "You just proved that you’re still a bitch."
Izzie’s jaw dropped. "You don’t get to call me a bitch! A few weeks ago you were-"
"Delusional," he cut in. "I was delusional enough to think that you had located the one human cell you still have in your body and could use it to become a decent person. Clearly, I was wrong."
"I’m not a decent person? *I’m* not?" Izzie pointed her finger at him. "What have you done that’s so great? Besides shack up with a married woman and live off her money? And -"
"Let’s get something straight," Alex interrupted. "I don’t give a flying fuck what you think, but you’re going to stop dogging Callie. Especially to me. We’re not friends, Izzie. We’ll never be friends. All you are to me ... is just a mistake that won’t go away."
"Scoreboard. Alex, ten. Izzie, none," Cristina said, tying her shoelaces. "And you can’t say shit about him hooking up with a married person, Iz. You’re the reason she’s getting a divorce."
Izzie ignored her. "Maybe Callie would like to know that you kissed me and that -"
"I already know," Callie replied, walking from the back of the room, where she had been changing clothes at her own locker. "And I don’t give a flying fuck either because mistakes happen. I should know."
Meredith cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Callie, did you get a tattoo also?"
Smiling, Callie nodded. "I did."
"So, share!" Cristina motioned for her friend to display the ink. "Unless it’s in places that only Dr. Montgomery should see."
"I’m not quite that brave." Callie happily unzipped her jeans and slipped them down on the right side, displaying the rose on the front of her hip.
Cristina sighed and shook her head. "This from the girl who said she’d never wear a bow on her ass or flowers in her hair. Now you have a flower on your hip which is your front ass ... in a way. I’m so disappointed. You’ve gone soft."
"Shut up," Callie told her, a twinkle in her eyes. Izzie was trapped between Meredith and Cristina and she had the distinct feeling that it had been intentional. The blond looked like a deer frozen in headlights.
"‘You belong to me, love Alex’," Meredith read, sitting down on the bench to get a better view. "Aww, that’s so sweet."
"It’s our song," Alex trailed his fingers over the new words on Callie’s hip, which had scabbed over. He had the same spiraling script over the tattoo on his chest. "She sang it on our first date and we realized it was us."
"The lyrics could not *be* more us." Callie pulled her pants back up and buttoned them. A sharp pain sliced through her side and she jumped a little. It had been aching for days, but it had never felt like a knife before.
"You okay?" Meredith asked, looking up at Callie, who nodded at her.
"So, which song is it? ‘You Belong To Me’? Which version?" Cristina stuffed her dirty scrubs in her bag.
"The old one. Patsy Cline did it and so did Dean Martin," Callie replied. "You know the one ... see the pyramids along the Nile, watch the sunrise on a tropic isle. That one."
"It’s because she likes to travel," Alex said. "And she can go to Algiers, to the Nile, or fly her plane across the ocean ... but she’s still mine."
"And I’ll always come back," Callie assured him. "Because for some reason I seem to be hooked, Jock Strap."
"I’m officially dying from cute overload." Cristina got to her feet and poked Callie in the hip, causing her to wince. "You should eat more and tattoo less, Torres. You’re going to look like Amy Winehouse if you don’t start consuming more than semen."
Callie turned and kissed Alex, saying, "Are you ready to go? I’m hungry."
"Ew. Ew. Ew." Yang poked her in the hip again. "Skank."
"Crack whore," Alex and Callie said simultaneously, causing everyone except Izzie to laugh.
The door of the locker room opened abruptly and hard enough for it to hit the wall. Addison and Bailey practically charged into the room. When Addison saw Callie, she leaped up and down, clapping happily. Callie looked at Alex and said, "Is she trying to tell us that she got a spanking again?"
"No, pervert. You are not going to believe this!" Addison cried. "I was killing time in the clinic waiting for Mark to finish his surgery so I was answering the Ava line and Oprah Winfrey’s people called! They want to feature her on their holiday show about missing people!"
"Get out!" Callie looked at her friend in disbelief. "Really?"
"And that’s not all," Bailey said, beaming in triumph. "She’s donating two million dollars to the clinic and will mention it on her show as well."
"Callie, this is huge! High five!" Addison pushed Alex out of the way and slapped her palm against Callie’s, then hugged her so hard that Callie was sure her ribs were breaking. She finally let go after Callie groaned. "We *must* celebrate!"
Callie massaged her right side, which continued to throb so much that she sat down on the bench. She rested her elbows on her thighs and leaned forward, taking several deep breaths. Alex kneeled down in front of her and said, "Are you talking to the Opus Dei again?"
"No. I think I’m still sick."
Addison put her hand on her forehead and nodded. "She’s got a fever."
"I’m gonna barf if you don’t shoot me up with Reglan, guys."
"I’ll get it," Meredith said. "Chart or no chart?"
"Take it from the clinic," Bailey said. "I’ll cover it somehow. Just like I did all the other doses you gave them."
*~*~*~*~*~
"So, then she was all like ‘oh, it’s our song and aren’t we so ridiculously happy and perfect and great’ and he was like ‘you’re not my friend because you’re a mistake’ and she was all, ‘ooooh, I’m so sick’ so she could get all the attention. I was like ‘gag me until I’m freakin’ dead’." Izzie took a deep breath and finished off her third donut, looking at George. "Hello? I’ve finished ranting so it’s your turn."
George chewed his hot dog and swallowed before he spoke. "I had a pretty good day, actually. No ranting here."
"Did I mention that they have their names on each other!? Like *on* each other. In ink."
"Did I mention that I was asked to scrub in on a Humpty Dumpty for tomorrow? You think Cristina would give me her notes?"
"George-"
"Because I’m not really getting enough information online about it and she actually performed one with Burke. I’ll have to ask her."
Izzie picked up her burger and bit into it. "Look at what they’re making me do! I ate three donuts before dinner! And I’m still starving."
George smiled at her. "You may want to hurry. Our movie starts in thirty minutes. Hey, do you want to race against me in the arcade?"
"No, George. I don’t want to play a video game. I hate video games. I don’t want to race or do anything except have you agree with me that Callie is a -"
"I have more in common with Alex than with you on this. I don’t want to hear it." He wadded up his food wrappers and tossed them into the trash can. The food court of the mall was crawling with people and he grinned when he saw Addison and Mark holding hands nearby. "They’re getting married."
"Callie and Alex!?"
George shot her a pointed look. "No, Izzie. Dr. Sloan and Dr. Montgomery." He indicated where they were with his head.
Izzie turned and looked at the duo, who were waiting in the Dippin’ Dots line. She watched as Mark wrapped his arms around the red head and kissed her forehead. "You think that’s the reason that Derek’s been such a bastard lately? Meredith said that he hasn’t said more than five words to her and he hasn’t been to the house at all."
"I heard a rumor that he had the flu." George finished off his soda. "He’s been off for a few days."
"I think it’s the engagement." Izzie returned to her burger and devoured it. "Would it bother you if Callie and Alex -"
"We’re not talking about that." George gripped his cup so tight that the lid popped off. He rubbed a hand over his face and blurted out, "What did her tattoo look like?"
She ate a French fry before she answered. "Yellow rose with red tips and I thought you didn’t want to hear it."
"You said they had their names on each other."
Izzie nodded and told him about the song title. She bit her bottom lip and said, "Uh, he got her kiss tattooed over his heart. It’s unmistakably hers. Her lips are -"
"Better than Angelina Jolie’s." George put the lid back on his empty cup and stood. "We better go watch the movie before I curl into a fetal position."
There was a line outside the theater and they found themselves standing behind Addison and Mark, who were enjoying their ice cream and joking with one another. Izzie’s eyes widened when she saw the rock on Addison’s hand. "Your ring is incredible," she said, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
Addison looked down at the diamonds and nodded. "It is. And it’s heavy. Too bad I didn’t have this on when I slapped your face." Grinning innocently, she added. "Haha, I made a funny."
Mark smiled down at Addison and whispered something in her ear that caused her to giggle like a schoolgirl. He goosed her in the ribs and she smacked his hand. With a groan of pain, Sloan held up his hand, which was scratched all over. "I’m going to kill Callie. That damn thing she calls a pet is rabid."
"Callie has a pet?" George asked.
Addison nodded. "Alex gave her a ferret for her birthday. She is, after all, a ferret loving whore, right?"
"Hey, didn’t you ask me to race you in the arcade?" Izzie asked suddenly. "We have time for a good game, George."
"Yeah, we do."
The coming attractions were well under way when they returned and every seat was filled except for a couple in the front row. It was a hideous way to watch the movie.
But George had become very familiar with hideous.
He looked at it in the mirror every day.
He just wondered when Izzie would look into hers and see the same thing.
*~*~*~*~*~*~
The camera crew from the Oprah Winfrey Show arrived four days later. Alex was asked to detail the ferry accident and how he had stumbled onto Ava. If he was nervous ... it didn’t show. He spoke with confidence and clarity. Callie, who was feeling only moderately better, was certain that the footage of Ava and Alexandria would surpass anything that the media outlets had put together. The crew wrapped on the Eighteenth and she surprised Ava with a copy of Samurai Ambush: Total Destruction of her own and hung around to play it with her.
Callie’s hand went to her side several times and she found herself eating Tylenol like candy.
Eight big names had signed on to perform at the fund raiser and the publicity was huge. Jennifer Lopez actually plugged it on The David Letterman Show, talking at length about affordable health care. Two days before Thanksgiving, Callie received word that the Key Arena had sold out for the star studded event and the ticket cost (at one hundred and fifty bucks each for the nosebleed section and five hundred for the floor) had not deterred the fans.
Callie did her trademark happy dance of joy and George, who happened to be standing nearest her, joined in like he always did. Both of them laughed their asses off when they realized what they had done ... what they had always done. George, apparently encouraged by the easy interaction, reiterated that his mother would love to see Callie for Thanksgiving dinner and as an afterthought ... told her that she could bring Alex along if she wanted.
"We’re going to Addison’s that day." She gave him a small smile and raised her right arm to see if it would help lessen the aching pain that was plaguing her. "But I appreciate the offer. Tell Louise that I’d love to stop by the day after and eat all the leftovers."
George looked down at his wife’s body and shook his head. "I don’t think you eat at all."
"I had a huge breakfast this morning. Plus, I did have the flu."
"Three weeks ago."
"I think it’s hanging around. I’ve been taking Reglan around the clock just to stop puking."
"You want me to make a chart and have someone look at you?"
"No, I think that I just jumped back into work too quickly. I’ve been so busy running all over town to get everything organized for the clinic that I feel like I walk twenty miles a day. Plus, Fratelli is into everything so it’s like I’m chasing a toddler from the moment I get home to the time he goes to sleep."
"Fratelli?"
"Our ferret." Callie grinned and held up her finger, which was bandaged. "He loves to hate me. Alex is apparently the better parent because -" She trailed off when George’s smile faded. "So, uhm, I met your Uncle Hal. He looks so much like your dad."
"Yeah, he told me that you had stopped by the station with the details of the talent competition. And just like my dad ... he went on and on about you."
Callie laughed. "No offense, but I think he’d go on and on about anything. The man can talk."
"That he can." George took a deep breath and pointed at the stack of charts. "Bailey sent me down here to be useful. Is there anything I can take?"
"I think everything’s covered. I already offered to hang out and help, but they refused." She shrugged.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah."
"You haven’t had anything to drink since - you know. Right?"
"No, I haven’t."
"The day that I brought you home from the hospital you - you drank again. Why did you do that?" He saw the way her expression changed. "Please, tell me. Just ... be brutally honest."
"Okay, I can do brutal. It was the only way I could be near you. I don’t think you’ll ever know how much you hurt me, George. And I can’t tell you because the words it would take to convey it haven’t even been invented yet. It was *that* bad." She felt her eyes well with tears and looked away. "I did try to kill myself. I know I was convincing with the denial, but I knew what I was doing."
George looked like she had slapped him. "So, instead of being with me you’d rather be dead."
"No. I didn’t want to be with *me*. I hated myself more than I hated you. I hated that I wasn’t blond, I wasn’t a super model. I hated that I wasn’t your best friend. I hated myself for being willing to take you back even though I knew that I’d never be able to let my guard down with you. I hated myself for being willing to *settle* for something I wasn’t happy with." She reached out and touched his hand. "I feel like I settled enough while we were dating. I settled into last place and I stayed there without really protesting, so it’s not your fault that you didn’t change after we got married. It’s my fault for believing you would."
He took her hand in his. "If it’s any consolation ... I hate myself enough for the both of us."
"Don’t." She smiled at him. "Because the minute you stop hating yourself ... everything in the world goes from black and white to vivid color. Everything makes you smile and you laugh at stupid jokes you’ve heard a million times because ... you’re free. Be free, George. Everyone makes mistakes. Don’t hold yourself hostage for it, because I forgive you."
George hugged her. She still smelled the same, but her slimmer body felt foreign in his arms. "You’re wrong about not being my friend. You were my friend all along."
She hugged him back. "I think that’s all we were meant to be."
He finally let her go and she playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Who are you bringing to the fund raiser?"
"Izzie’s forcing me to be her date and since she paid for my ticket ... I have to go."
"She’ll probably need you. Denny’s family has agreed to let us put together a videography of his life. They’ve sent home movies and your uncle is putting it all together to show at the telethon, but we’ll also be broadcasting it at the arena during the concert." She took a deep breath, which caused her side to renew its efforts to drive her insane. "Addison is technically supposed to be working with Izzie on this thing, but I have yet to see the fruits of that labor. So, prepare Izzie for the video."
"I will." His pager went off and he groaned. "I guess I better go." Looking into her eyes, he said, "Just for future reference, being able to talk to you like this makes it better, easier, for me to see in vivid color."
She watched him walk away.
It made it easier for her, too.
*~*~*~*~
The day after Thanksgiving, Callie kept her promise to visit Louise. On the drive out, she felt the worst fatigue of her life and her stomach was so tender and bloated that she had worn sweat pants instead of jeans. By the time she arrived at the O’Malley house, she had stopped the car to vomit three times. Louise took one look at her, pushed her on the sofa, and stuck a thermometer under her tongue.
Her temperature was one hundred and three. Callie asked for a washcloth and rubbed it over her face. Clutching her side, she began to cry and told Louise that something was wrong.
Louise called the ambulance and rode inside with her, bemoaning the fact that she had forgotten to call George and had left her cell phone at home. By the time they arrived at the hospital, Callie was either sleeping or had lost consciousness. Louise followed the stretcher into the emergency room, wringing her hands. She spotted a familiar face and called, "Dr. Stevens! Dr. Stevens, it’s Callie! She’s sick. Can you page George and - and her boyfriend?"
Izzie took one look at Callie and rushed to the phone, where she paged both men to the ER, stat. Yanking gloves on, she rushed into the room right behind Mark, who was the on duty attending for the day. "What do we know?"
The medics rambled off Callie stats and Louise explained that she had complained of intense pain in her side. Mark palpated Callie’s stomach and said, "Abdominal distension. She’s presenting with ascites."
"What is that?" Louise asked.
Izzie looked at her and said, "It’s a build up of fluid in her peritoneal cavity."
"What does it mean?"
"We don’t know yet," Mark told her, lifting Callie’s eyelids. "She’s jaundiced. Somebody page the Chief! And get an IV line started, people!"
Alex arrived first and skidded to a halt when he saw Callie. His heart stopped beating, he was sure of that. He stood at the foot of the bed, waiting impatiently for the EMT’s to leave before he rushed to her side. Two attempts at waking her up yielded nothing so he looked at Mark. "What happened?"
Mark listened to Callie’s heart, then her lungs. "Alex, this is very important. Has she been taking any medication?"
"Uh, Tylenol. She - she’s been taking it every day. I can't remember what she said was hurting her. And - and she had Tamiflu a while back and she’s been taking pretty strong doses of Reglan because she can’t seem to kick the nausea."
George, who was standing in the doorway, said, "All of those drugs are hepatotoxic. With her liver ... did you monitor her enzymes at all during this time?"
Alex shook his head, his eyes never leaving Callie’s face. "I don’t -- no, she canceled her appointment and was supposed to reschedule it, but .. I don’t know."
"Smart! Really smart!" George snapped. "Her blood alcohol was at a fatal level and it never crossed your mind to keep an eye on possible damage?! And you say you love her!?"
"Stevens, get him out of here," Mark said. "And page Addison. I want an ultrasound of her liver and I want it done by the best."
"Alex?" Callie stirred and reached to her left, which was his side of the bed on Goon Docks. "I don’t feel good. Can you call in at work for me? I’m just ... ugh."
He took her hand in his and tried to keep the shock off his face when he saw how yellow her eyes were when they found his. "Baby, you’re in the hospital."
"Oh. When is my shift over? I think I better go home."
He brushed her hair back, feeling how hot she was, and watched her close her eyes again. "What’s her temp?"
"One hundred and three." Mark watched as Alex stepped aside to let Izzie start the IV. "Draw her blood first, Stevens. I want GGT, AST, and ALT. Make sure they check her for hepatitis."
Alex gasped. "You can’t think it’s alcoholic hepatitis. She hasn’t been drinking, Mark."
"I’m being cautious," Mark replied. "She didn’t present with irregularities after she binged on the bourbon. She could have developed a fatty liver that she wasn’t aware of because she didn’t keep the damn follow ups! And it never crossed my mind before I shot her full of Reglan and fed her all those fucking Tamiflu doses that if her liver *was* compromised ... that could compound it."
"Surely if she had liver -"
"Look at her, Karev! She’s yellow!" Mark rubbed the stubble on his face. "I hate teaching hospitals. Hate. Only in a teaching hospital would the plastic surgeon be dealing with this shit! Where the hell is Addison?"
"Right here," Addison replied, pushing the ultrasound machine in front of her. She almost tripped over her feet when she saw Callie. "They didn’t tell me it was her. Is she - she’s pregnant?"
"I need a very clear look at her liver." Mark stepped out of the way as Addison wheeled the machine to Callie’s right side.
Wasting no time, Addison cut away her friend’s shirt and spread gel over her side. Her hands were shaking when she lowered the imager. Callie cried out when Addison pressed against her ribs and tried to push her away. Alex caught both of her hands and held them over her head, talking softly to her. It didn’t seem to help, she was sobbing as Addy poked and prodded.
"Her liver doesn’t look enlarged, but, wait ... that looks like a little swelling right there. Yeah, there’s definite swelling." Addison said quietly. "It’s probably because of her diet. She’s not -"
"I think it’s pharmaceutical." Mark explained his theory, watching as Addison’s face fell. "We didn’t think about it before we treated her so aggressively for the flu."
"Oh my god," Addison said, rubbing Callie’s arm. "Order the liver biopsy, Mark."
"The ascites is so severe that I don’t want to do the biopsy yet. Can you get a catheter started, Addy? I'm going to load her up with diuretics." Reaching for Callie’s chart, he opened it and flipped through. "Somebody go light a fire under the lab’s ass! I want those blood tests now."
Callie clutched her stomach, drawing her knees upward. "God, it hurts."
Mark palpated her again and swore. Her stomach had gotten larger and the rate that she was distending was alarming. He took the ultrasound from Addison and ran it over Callie’s belly. "We’re going to have to drain the fluid. I can’t give her anything for pain until I get those results."
"Drain it anyway," Callie cried.
"Check her pancreas," Alex said. "It could be pancreatic ascites."
Addison took the imager back from Mark and nodded, zooming in on the screen. "Bingo. Definite pancreatitis."
The Chief arrived and ordered antibiotics.
He also ordered the liver biopsy to be performed after the abdominal fluid was drained.
Her test results had come back.
Callie’s liver enzymes were off the charts.
*~*~*~*~*~
Alex sat in the waiting room, between Meredith and Cristina. It was enough that they were there. George and his mother sat across from them and it helped the tension he felt that the two girls had chosen to sit beside him, like loyal bookends. He had watched helplessly as George signed all the consent forms. It was a painful reminder that Callie was still legally married and her *husband* could make her medical decisions. Chief Webber had spoken to George and not to Alex as he explained the procedures, which he did at length for Louise’s benefit.
They had been waiting for almost two hours. The biopsy should have taken twenty minutes. Leaning forward, Alex put his head in his hands and stared down at his shoes. Callie was sick and he had known it. He’d been telling her to let Bailey do a comprehensive panel, but she had insisted that it was exhaustion. He had watched her clothing grow increasingly baggier and never equated that dramatic weight loss went hand in hand with a myriad of liver diseases. And pancreatitis. He had been so blinded that she was there with him that he hadn’t bothered to look past her bravado. All the times she jumped and grabbed her side ... he believed her when she said it was a cramp or a muscle spasm.
He rubbed his temples with his thumbs when the first tear fell. Because he was looking down, it dropped onto his scrub pants and another fell behind it. Cristina passed him a tissue and said, "Stop doing that. It’s not going to do any good and you shouldn’t worry until you know there’s a reason."
Several more tears fell and George watched every last one of them. Alex Karev actually having tear ducts defied all logic, but he was *crying*. Because of Callie. Shifting in his seat, George looked away. He knew exactly how it felt. He had been there, done that. A lot. When Alex blew his nose, he glanced back at him. Maybe, he thought, Alex really did love Callie ... but ... he doubted it.
"Did you call her parents, Alex?" Louise asked softly, gently.
"They’re on the way," Alex replied, still cradling his head. The walls were closing in on him and as he listened to George and Louise make small talk about their Christmas plans, he was visited by the urge to throw his chair at them. Callie was *sick*. Who cared if Christmas even came? Getting to his feet, he said, "I’m going to go and -"
Mark opened the door and his eyes found Alex. "I’m sorry we made you wait so long. We rushed the results of the biopsy and just heard back. The good news is that she does not have hepatitis or cirrhosis, which given the circumstances is nothing short of amazing. The bad news is that she has drug induced cholestasis. That coupled with the pancreatitis has put us in a very difficult position because the medication she needs could exacerbate one problem or the other."
Louise had gotten to her feet. "What does all that mean?"
"Cholestasis means that her liver is not producing the bile between the liver and small intestine. That means that her bloodstream is carrying a waste product and it’s accumulating. It's because she was mixing liver damaging medications," George replied. "And the pancreatitis is really not that uncommon. We see it all the time."
Mark held up a clipboard and a pen. "Dr. O’Malley, I need you to sign a consent form for a jejunostomy feeding tube."
George accepted the board with a frown. "It's so severe that you have to bypass the pancreas and go straight into the bowel with it? You can't do it nasally?"
"No. We can't," Mark replied. "She needs nutrients and she can’t eat until her pancreas settles down. That could take several days. Her potassium is low, her electrolytes are imbalanced, and her magnesium is pathetic."
George glanced at Alex, who looked as if he had aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Alex, are you okay with this? Do you ... have a preference?"
Alex looked shocked that his opinion was being asked at all. "She’s gonna be mad as hell, but it has to be done."
"What does that mean? The jeju - whatever," Louise inquired.
"We'll be inserting a tube laprascopically into her abdomen instead of through the nostril. There's less risk for infection and like O'Malley said ... we need to bypass her digestive system," Mark replied, accepting the clipboard again after George scrawled his name on it. He picked up the phone and called the OR, informing Webber that they had gotten the consent. "We should be finished in an hour and then you can see her. She’ll be in the ICU."
Alex looked at George as Mark left the room. "Thank you for including me in that."
"Do you have a minute? I’d like to talk to you in private," George said.
"I was about to go to the chapel, actually. Wanna go?"
"Sure," George replied, then looked at Meredith and Cristina. "Could you guys hang out with my mom for a while? Explain it all a little better?"
They both nodded and watched silently as the men left the room.
In the elevator, George put his hands in his pockets and said, "I was wrong to say what I did to you earlier. I shouldn’t have blamed you. I know what that felt like after she drank so much. Everyone blamed me and they were right, but it still sucked."
Alex leaned his head back against the wall. "I should have forced her to follow up. I could have done the blood work myself. She crawled my ass about being so over protective, though, so I stopped pushing her."
"I’ve yet to see anyone who could force her to do anything."
"You’ll see it everyday when she gets better. The kids gloves are officially off."
Neither George nor Alex spoke as the elevator opened and they walked to the chapel. It was empty and George watched as Alex walked forward and lit a candle, then bowed his head. He saw the way Alex wiped at his eyes when he finally lifted his head and knew that he was crying again. It made George feel sorry for him ... almost. "Are you Catholic?" he asked.
Alex shook his head, still facing away from George. He shouldn’t have been embarrassed by his emotions, but he was. Callie would tell him that he was not a jock anymore. "No, but Callie is. Or at least that’s how she was raised. She dragged me along to a service on Thanksgiving morning and it was actually pretty ... decent. It made her happy."
George sat down on the front pew, studying the other man. "You make her happy and I hate you for that. For doing what I should have done. All I can think is that you stole my wife and -"
"I didn’t steal your wife. You gave her away." Alex swiped the tears off his face and turned. "You practically begged me to take her."
"No, I didn’t. I was trying to make it work. You knew that and you still-"
"Whatever, dude." Alex shook his head. "Your marriage ended when you cheated. The fact that I was there at all is *your* fault. You demolished her so you’ll have to forgive me if I have no remorse for doing what you *should* have done."
"I just - I have a hard time believing that you're in this thing with her for the right reasons. She's not your type."
"I know that a lot of people think I’m with her for her money or for a million other wrong reasons, but I’m with her because I love her," Alex snapped. "I love her. And I'm not talking to you about what we have together or what she means to me because she *knows*. I don't have to justify shit to anyone."
"I'm not asking you to. I just think that -"
"Do you get that she could die? Do you get that her liver could be -"
"You know that drug related cholestasis usually clears up with minimal damage once the toxins are filtered out." George cleared his throat. "Besides, I had something to say to you.
"Then spit it out."
George exhaled and said, "It’s Izzie. Don’t repeat this. Dr. Gellar told her that she has post traumatic stress disorder. From Denny’s death and the inheritance and stuff. She’s been taking Zoloft for over a week now. For a bunch of doctors we sure do miss the obvious even when it's staring us in the face."
Alex tilted his head a little. "Here’s something obvious that I didn’t miss. Your wife is sick as hell and as usual ... you’re thinking about Izzie Stevens instead of her. That’s why your marriage ended, O’Malley."
"It explains a lot, Alex!" George shot to his feet. "I thought you’d want to know! You did claim to love Izzie too, right?"
"I was wrong. You should know how it is ... you did claim to love Callie too, right?"
"Hey-"
"I’m going back to the waiting room. Maybe you should go find Izzie. I’m sure she’s missing your head up her ass by now."
*~*~*~*~*~