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CHAPTER EIGHTY THREE
shock to the system.
season seven, episode two.

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Billie had nothing else to say to Dr. Perkins. Even though he insisted he knew she was hiding something, that she was lying to herself, she had been feeling at a loss for days on end now, so she'd resulted to spend their daily forty-five minute consults reading magazines and snacking on Twizzlers.

There she was now, paying little to no attention to the man sitting in front of her, analyzing the pictures depicted on the boring magazine she read. Somehow, she thought that she could guilt-trip Dr. Perkins into clearing her for surgery if she stayed quiet long enough so as for him to finally realize she really had absolutely no idea what to say. But the past three consults had been exactly the same—in a quiet conference room, filled only by the sound of Billie's chewing and Perkins' occasional comments—and nothing had changed yet.

Perkins seemed fed up and even though her plan wasn't succeeding, Billie was still glad she was able to annoy him.

"Listen, you can stay quiet all you want. It's not gonna get you anywhere," Andrew said, propped onto his hand, staring at her boredly.

She shrugged. "It'll work out eventually."

"No, it won't." He leant back on his chair. "You know what I want you to say. I just want you to admit it. Staying quiet only proves to me how stubborn and self-contained you are."

"Self-contained? I've told you everything I know."

"I don't want you to tell me what you know. I know what happened. I want you to tell me what you feel," he corrected her, now leaning in forward to delve his gaze into hers. "You're not honest with yourself. As a matter of fact, you're not honest with anyone. You'd rather lie and bullshit your family and friends on how this shooting was the best thing that ever happened to you, how you're changed and how you're the best you've ever been, but that's not true and you know it."

Billie squinted at him disbelievingly, as if he'd somehow offended her with his words. So, without saying anything else, she tossed her candy and magazine on the table, stood up and stormed out of the room, without so much as a click of her tongue and a glance in Dr. Perkins' direction, who huffed out and leant back in his seat. That girl certainly was a stubborn one.

☆

Billie was pissed. Not only because of her latest consult with Dr. Perkins, but also because she still hadn't gotten cleared and everyone's pagers—except hers, Meredith's and Cristina's—seemed to be going off.

"Sounds big," she huffed melancholically to herself, propped on her hand on one of the benches of the residents lounge.

"I'm betting MVC." Jackson grinned excitedly.

"Yeah, rub it off, will you?" Billie rolled her eyes.

"Multiple MVC. Or an apartment fire," Alex immediately butted in on the conversation, but the girl seemed to pay no mind to him, so he sighed defeatedly and decided to head to the ER.

"When is this staring gonna stop?" April asked Jackson under her breath, looking over her shoulder at the other residents, that seemed to be unable to rip their eyes off of them.

"As soon as the novelty wears off. Just ignore them."

"Owen washed my hair," Cristina, who seemed to be kind of freaking out after her recent wedding, suddenly told Billie and Meredith as she munched on a snack. "And he told me to eat this grainy nut bar. And he booked me into surgery this morning. He is in charge of me. I'm a bride and I'm going with it."

"Well, that's good, then. Creepy, but good." Billie shrugged.

"But the trauma guy didn't clear you," Meredith noted.

"Yeah, but he said he'll figure that out."

The two remaining girls shared a satisfied look, shrugging their shoulders. Behind them, Lexie suddenly turned with a long, sonorous huff.

"Yes! I'm the crazy one!" she suddenly yelled. "I am the one who freaks out and screams at people! Like that."

Her pager suddenly went off and she immediately turned around, hiding inside herself. Billie glanced at the remaining residents in the lounge.

"Go gawk at each other," she told them, and their immediately scurried away. Then, she glanced at Lexie. "Are you okay?"

"Would everybody please just stop asking if I am okay, okay?" the younger resident begged, then ran off.

"Well, that was... off."

"Did trauma guy clear you two yet?" Cristina then asked.

"Not me."

"Nope."

"No? Still?"

"I resorted to tears. I wore bad mascara so he wouldn't miss them," Meredith explained.

"I resorted to silence. Didn't work either. Stupid guy." Billie rolled her eyes.

"What? How come you're still waiting to get cleared?" Jackson asked her.

"He wants me to admit how crippled I am after the shooting. Do I look crippled to you guys?" she asked without even waiting for an answer. "No. Exactly."

"Well, Mer, what did Derek say?" Cristina asked.

"Oh, I will be avoiding him today," the blonde groaned.

"So you don't have to talk to him about the baby thing?"

"No."

"Oh..." Billie nodded, "because you left him in the pokey."

"Yeah."

"Well, my life sucks too," she continued. "I haven't been in an OR for two months, nearly died again, and I broke up with Alex. And my brother is coming back to work so I'm supposed to go meet him at the lobby in, like, fifteen minutes, so I should be heading down about... now."

Cristina and Meredith shared wide-eyed looks.

"You broke up with Alex?!" Cristina almost yelled.

"Are you an idiot?" Meredith asked, shocked.

"No, I'm not. Didn't I tell you guys? Huh. Must've slipped my mind." Billie shrugged to herself carelessly. "The day of the shooting, Alex was bleeding out and I was all, you know, I love you, don't die, and he called me Izzie's name and begged me to come back for him and to never leave him."

"Oh," the remaining parts of the trio chorused.

"Well, that's fucked," Meredith noted.

"So much for being in love with you..."

"Yeah, well, what the hell." The brunette threw her hands in the air. "It's whatever."

☆

When Billie turned that corner, she froze.

There wasn't a shooter in the hospital anymore. There weren't dead people in the hospital anymore. Nurses, doctors and patients walked the hallways like they always did. But somehow, when Billie came out into the lobby and caught sight of that specific nurses station, she saw her brother, saw him lain down on the floor, covered in blood, unable to move and hidden behind the counter while he clutched at his stomach in an attempt to keep himself from bleeding out; holding his mouth so as to not make a sound. Staring at the spot he'd once almost died at, Billie couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She even thought to see blood that had been accidentally left uncleaned at the plinths—could it be?

"Christ," she told herself, her breathing shallow.

"Are you okay?"

Within a split second, Billie turned to find Jackson, whose eyebrows were furrowed in stark concern at the sight of his ex-girlfriend frozen mid-hallway. Worriedly, he placed a soft hand on her forearm, seeking her warmth.

"What?" She frowned, brought back to reality by the realness of his touch.

"Are you okay? You seem..."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry." Billie shook her head, but she still couldn't take her eyes off her half-dead brother on the floor—could't stop seeing him.

Jackson didn't quite believe her. He followed her line of view all the way to that specific spot beneath the counter of the nurses station until something suddenly clicked inside him.

"What do you see?" he asked.

Billie blinked. "What?"

"Every time I walk past OR 6, I see him... that man, the shooter. That's where I was the day of the shooting, OR 6. I haven't been able to go into that OR ever since then," he explained, his voice a caress. "So, what is it that you see over there? What did you go through here?"

She let out a long sigh. How come he knew?

"My brother," she finally revealed. "Half-dead, bleeding out right over there. That's where I found him. I was actually heading down to meet him, since he's coming back to work today. But I just... I—I..."

"You got a flashback. It's alright. I get them, too. It's PTSD after the amounts of emotional stress you endured that day."

Billie stared straight into his eyes, clear though they were. He seemed different, almost like the shooting had changed him—it had. It had changed everyone. Especially herself. But why did it feel so weird to talk to him once again? Why did it feel almost, maybe, right?

"Yeah," she muttered, shifting backwards. "I... I should go."

She hurried away. Her heart thumped in her chest. She wished to outrun the unpleasant conversation.

"Wait, Billie," he spoke, so she turned. "We're alright, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... we broke things off and we..." Jackson shook his head. He seemed to be looking inwards, searching for the appropriate words to voice his thoughts. Billie watched him attentively. "I don't know. I miss you. I heard you broke up with Alex."

"Oh... yeah, that happened."

Suddenly, she felt embarrassed. Stupid, like a child whose wishes were not clear: she'd broken up with Jackson, had hurt his feelings so as to be with Alex and now... she had broken up with Alex? She couldn't even begin to imagine how betrayed Jackson could be feeling—she sure would have been feeling that way, too.

"I'm sorry. I'm a mess," she confessed at last. "I'm having a hard time admitting it, but I'm all fucked up ever since the shooting. I can't— God, I can't even focus. And I'm sorry I put you through that mess with Alex. He wasn't worth it."

"Hey, I'm not blaming you for anything. We're all still fucked up," he stopped her immediately, his eyes tender. "It'll pass."

There was a strange silence then and even though she'd never been the greatest fan of eye contact, it was as though she could not keep her eyes off of him. Was this how Alex felt when she came running right back to him even after he treated her like shit? Was Jackson feeling the way Billie had been feeling for years? Why wasn't Jackson raging at her, calling her names, hating her in every sense of the word? How come he still treated her so delicately when she hadn't hesitated to hurt him?

Then, she started thinking about the many ways in which Alex had disrespected her. How lousy he'd been to her. The way he'd played her time and time again, the promises he hadn't been able to keep, the ideas he'd sewn in her head just to leave her hanging over and over, and even then, she'd gone back running without him even asking. She felt so stupid—did Jackson feel stupid as well?

"We're alright," Billie said then. "Everything's okay between us. I hope."

Jackson let out a profound sigh of relief. "Well, that's good enough for me."

Billie couldn't stand it much longer. She did smile at him, though, but then she quickly slid away and left him and the nurses station behind. Something about the conversation felt so misleading to her and she wasn't in a good enough place to start mixing up things for herself or someone else. Jackson, luckily, took no offense to her escapade and simply let her go.

As soon as she was out of earshot, she let out a prolonged sigh and ran a frustrated hand across the overgrown bangs that framed her face now down below her chin (maybe it was time for a haircut; new trauma... new resolutions?). It was barely morning and she felt she could already call it a day, but instead, she pushed herself forward all the way to the main entrance of the hospital where she finally found her brother making his way in.

"Ian!" she called, running up to him. 

"Hey." He smiled as soon as he saw her, pulling her in for a half hug where he kissed the top of her head before letting her go. They walked alongside each other.

"So, first day back. Nervous? How are you feeling?" Billie asked excitedly, trying to pretend that she wasn't still eyeing sideways that nurses station.

"I'm feeling like myself. Finally getting to do surgery today, hopefully. What about you? Are you okay?"

She snorted. "I'm nervous."

"What for?"

"For you. What the hell. I don't know. This place still gives me the creeps."

Ian glanced at his sister discreetly, trying to catch on her nuances any trace of a cry for help. She seemed on edge, but he could see nothing on her face other than utter calm—fake though it was.

"Have you gotten cleared for surgery?" he asked then, trying to find his way around the sensitive topic.

Billie didn't look at him. She was avoiding doing so. She didn't want to choke up.

"Uhm," she mumbled, "actually, no."

"Seriously? Why?"

"Yeah, exactly, why haven't I been cleared for surgery? Fuck knows why." Billie scowled. "We got assigned an idiot shrink, is why."

"Is it, or are you just bottling things up again?"

She glared at her brother, then rolled her eyes.

"Well, I've officially walked you in on your first day back, so I'm guessing I can go now," she said. "Bye!"

"Don't be stubborn!"

Billie waved him off and disappeared behind a corner.

☆

"Hospital's not fun anymore." Billie huffed out loudly as she watched a reality show on one of the waiting room TVs.

"No?" John eyed her subtly, completing a sudoku puzzle from his notebook.

"What's the purpose of being a surgeon if I can't operate? You're lucky you weren't there that day, so you don't have to get cleared for anything. Whereas, I can't operate anymore because one man thinks I'm crazy."

Her intern blinked. "So, you're watching reality shows?"

"Are you being sarcastic? Because if you are, I'd like to remind you that I still have the power to get you out of the OR for as long as I want to, shooting or not," Billie told him with a cocked brow. "Then, you'd be stuck here with me."

"I am stuck here with you."

She didn't care enough to answer.

"This is what you do now?" Cristina asked then when she sighted her best friend sat at the waiting room.

"Is everybody judging me today?" She rolled her eyes. "The fact that you're married to an attending doesn't mean you get to brag about your privileges."

The girl sat next to her and propped her feet on the table. "You brag all the time. Karma's a bitch."

John snorted and Billie nudged him angrily.

"This blows. John, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked then curiously.

The man frowned when he looked up from his notebook. "What?"

"Have you ever broken up with someone? Is it supposed to haunt you for the rest of your life, or does it go away?"

Cristina and John shared looks.

"If you regret leaving your man, then go get him back." She rolled her eyes. "Seriously, this is getting old."

"Well, wouldn't your ego be a little bruised if Owen was dying and cried out for Teddy?"

Cristina glared at her. John pretended he was somewhere else.

"Okay, I—I'm just saying. We all know Alex. You know Alex, better than any of us," she explained. "You're not stupid enough to believe anything he said after he married Izzie, are you?"

"Well, maybe I am."

Cristina shook her head. "You're going through an intellectual downfall."

"Billie."

Billie, Cristina and John all looked up. When all eyes were on him, Alex sort of shrank, as if he hadn't noticed she wasn't sitting alone. 

"Hi." He waved awkwardly to John and Cristina.

"Hey, man," the intern grimaced.

"Billie, can—can we talk?" Alex mumbled out quietly, leaning in as if he didn't want everyone to know what he was saying, even though John and Cristina were already invested.

Billie frowned. "What about?"

"I'm—I'm not... really sure."

"Man." Cristina chuckled. "You gotta work on your skills."

"Shut up." He rolled her eyes. "Billie, please?"

"I have to get down to the pit." She shook her head in the midst of her lie.

"What? You haven't even been cleared for surgery yet."

"Yeah, well." Billie shrugged and stood, then quickly fled the scene, leaving Alex alone with John and Cristina in the waiting room.

"Dude, she's mad," the intern said. "Leave her alone. You two are broken up."

Alex grimaced widely. "Shut up, intern."

☆

"You said Baker operated on you?" Ian asked as he took a look at the surgical scar across Billie's shoulder, where she'd been shot and operated on after the shooting. 

She took a brief look at his brother wearing his navy blue scrubs and lab coat. She wondered if he'd been given a new uniform, as his previous one had been all bled through, or if he had just washed his old one very well. At the thought, she shivered and looked away.

"Yeah. It's all good though."

"You're still healing. You should take it easy." Ian told her with a warning eye, pulling away.

Billie retrieved her scrub top from the gurney next to her and threw it on over the black tank she wore beneath as her brother removed his latex gloves.

"Have you had any pain?" he asked. "Any numbness?"

Billie scoffed. "Don't doctor me, Ian. I know about this shit, too."

"You're right," he laughed. "I forget."

"I've been just fine. Haven't been operating, anyway, so I just hang around the hospital to not miss out on round sand everything," she explained, jumping off to her feet. "I should be checking up on your scar."

"As you may."

Ian took off his lab coat and replaced her in her spot on the stretcher. He laid down on his back and let her sister ride his blue top softly to reveal the incision carved across his lower belly. She swallowed as she took a look at it, feeling her right hand trembling, feeling herself bathed in a cold sweat.

"Seems fine," she cleared her throat at last, unable to look at it much longer.

"Yep. It's all good, just fucking itchy." Ian laughed, getting back up. He sat up and looked at Billie as she took a step back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said immediately. "I'm thinking... I should probably get my own place."

Ian's face fell into a pout. "What? Why? Do you not like living with me?"

"No, it's not that. It's just—" she began. "Well, I mean. I'm a twenty-five-year-old adult now. And I've never had a place of my own. Maybe it's time to take that step forward, you know?"

He shook his head. "But you hate being alone."

"Yeah... something else I have to work on." Billie sucked her teeth.

"I like living with you, Bils. You're my little sister and the house is pretty big—"

"Maybe it's time we sell that house, too."

The man froze in his place and looked into her eyes, trying to find on her face any trace of a laugh that would signal this was a joke. But she was dead serious, so he stood up and shook his head.

"What are you on about?" he said. "I'm not selling our parents' house. I get that dad's not the greatest, but it was also mom's before everything. Why would you wanna sell it?"

"Not the greatest? Okay." Billie scowled. "I don't know, Ian. It was just a suggestion. I wanna move out, so you can live there on your own if you don't wanna sell the house. Fine by me."

She pushed past him and out the door, leaving her brother on his own inside the trauma room.

"Billie!" he yelled after her, but she was already gone.

☆

Meredith was in the OR gallery watching Owen, Teddy, Jackson and Cristina perform a heart surgery on one of Burke's previous patients when Alex walked in and took a seat by her side.

"I thought you were in surgery," she said.

"No, the guy pulled through," he told her quietly, seeking to leave the silent atmosphere around them undisturbed. He glanced sideways at the blonde, hesitant. "Hey, is—is Billie okay?"

Meredith squinted at him. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

"I don't think she wants me talking to her right now. I mean... she's made it pretty clear.".

"Right. 'Cause she was the one that ended it."

"It ended the way it always ends." Alex shrugged. "I get close to the chick, the chick goes crazy.  Rebecca, then Izzie. My mom. I'm a lightning rod for this crap."

Meredith now stared him down. "Don't talk about her like that. Like she's just another one of the girls you screw. It's your fault you don't know what you want. She was all in for you, you know that?"

"I know what I want, Mer."

"You miss Izzie. You made a lot of mistakes and now you complicated everything for the both of you."

"Look, I know I screwed up, but how can I defend myself from something I said when I wasn't even conscious? I don't miss Izzie. She was crazy."

Meredith didn't know what to say, so she shook her head silently.

"You're not that special," she said then as she clicked her tongue. "Billie's not crazy. She had a crazy thing happen to her and you bailed out on her. Her reaction was pretty normal, for whatever's worth." She shrugged. "And Izzie had brain cancer. Rebecca? She was crazy, but that was the facial reconstruction trauma. You're not a lightning rod, Alex, you're just a guy who's been through a lot of crap."

Alex shook his head. "Yeah, well... whatever."

"You want advice or support?" she asked then. "Because if you're asking for advice, then I would tell you Billie has been through a lot of crap, too. She's lost a whole damn much to lose you as well. She's had hope for years that you might change, even when you've treated her like crap every single time, and she didn't give up until you made it clear to her that she's not the one you want." She made a pause in which Alex huffed loudly. "But, if you're saying she is the one you want... I mean, I know you're not one for fighting too hard for anything. But if I was her, I'd be expecting you to live up to your word and prove to me everything that you ever said was true. She's had a lot of people give up on her without even fighting. You shouldn't be one of them."

Alex and Meredith shared a look. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Then, the blonde left, running into Billie, who came rushing into the gallery at that exact same time. As she walked out, Meredith shot a look at Alex, flashing a brow. 

When Billie saw him, however, she immediately made to turn around and go back on her steps.

"Billie, wait," he called, getting up from his seat and reaching the door behind her. He grabbed her arm softly and got her to turn to him. "Don't avoid me."

Billie looked down at his hand clasping her tight and cocked a brow. "Alex, quit acting like this.  We're broken up."

"Well, I never really agreed to that," he mumbled.

"Yeah, break-ups aren't something you agree on. People might leave you even if you don't want to," she told him sarcastically, and he loved that she was so unserious.

Alex cleared his throat. "Billie, just give me a second, please."

"Alex, I—"

A loud clatter resounded from the OR, so both of them turned towards the gallery window and looked down into the room, where Jackson seemed to have knocked over an instrument tray. Billie looked around: her ex-boyfriend apologized profusely, whereas Owen tried to calm down the OR staff. Teddy seemed to be slightly on edge, and Cristina...

"Where's Cristina?" Billie asked with a tight frown on her face.

Then, she saw her friend's rundown sneakers peaking out from behind the gurney and her eyes widened.

"Crap," she cursed as she ran out.

☆

"Hey, you can't be in here!"

Billie, dressed in her surgical uniform, wearing a scrub cap and hooking a mask over her face, glared at April where the young resident stared at her wide-eyed.

"Move," she said, pushing past her to walk into the OR.

"Dr. Black, you shouldn't be in the OR," Teddy exclaimed as soon as she saw her, but Billie only rushed past her and headed to where Cristina laid immobile on the floor.

She fell to her knees by her best friend in a frantic rush.

"Cristina," she called. "Cristina!"

But the girl didn't reply, so Billie took off her mask and laid down on the floor in front of her, watching a single tear slither across her nose and down her temple. 

"I can't be in here. I can't," Cristina said shakily at last.

Billie nodded. "Okay, so let's get out of here, right?"

The girl motioned her head yes, but then blinked a few times. "I can't... I can't feel anything. I c—I can't move. I can't move my legs."

"Hey."

"I can't—I can't feel anything," she sobbed.

Billie lapsed her tongue across her bottom lip. Then, she remembered herself one or two years ago. She remembered herself nearly collapsing in an empty room, and she remembered Alex being there to catch her, grabbing her hands and squeezing them, massaging her fingers, taping his nails against her skin, trying to get her to regain her senses. So she did just that. She grabbed Cristina's hand, took off her latex glove and began helping her the only way she knew how.

"Do you feel that?" she asked. 

Cristina looked down at her friend's hand massaging her own and hummed out croakily. Billie nodded.

"Good, okay. Then, we're gonna go when you're ready, okay?" she told her. "So you tell me when you're ready."

☆

Billie stayed with Cristina in the resident's lounge until the surgery was over. After that, Owen came rushing in and she knew it was time to go, so she left the couple alone and left out into the hallway. It was late at night, so the hospital was slightly more deserted. She found that, as soon as there was no one around, there were tears welled up on her eyes that she hadn't noticed were there before.

Billie looked around at the empty hallway. She hesitated to walk—she didn't know where to go, who to seek out. This didn't feel like her home anymore. She was almost scared that she'd turn the corner and there'd be a shooter waiting for her. Her right hand still shook and even though she wanted nothing more but to get cleared for surgery, she knew she couldn't operate, not only because she no longer had the pristine pulse she'd once had, but also because she could not, for the life of her, endure that kind of pressure. She was trying to keep it all in the way everyone told her not to, but she was so fucked up inside.

"Hey, I heard about Cristina."

Billie looked up to where Miles rushed up towards her standing by the closed door of the residents' lounge. She almost smiled because she hadn't spoken to him in so long, but smiling felt unthinkable to her, so instead, she ran a hand across her hair and huffed out.

"Yeah. She's okay though," she told him.

Miles stopped in front of her and scanned her over, taking a particular interest on her neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked then. "You're a little pale."

"I must've forgotten to take my insulin. I don't know." Billie shook her head, running her hands over her hair then hooking them at her shoulders, looking over at Miles. "I don't know."

"Okay, c'mon. Let's give you a shot now."

She let Miles place his hand on her back and guide her towards a trauma room, even though she'd never told him she was diabetic and even though she knew there was no way he could've known about it. But he didn't ask, because to him, Billie didn't seem to be in the right enough place to be questioned. Mostly, he feared she was in the verge of collapse, so he led the way and got her on a stretcher before he prepared a syringe.

"Where do you normally take them?" he asked, flicking the little device with his gloved fingers.

Billie lied down on the stretcher and lifted her top enough to reveal the bare spot of her stomach where she tended to inject herself. The skin was slightly discolored there, not bright enough to be noticed from afar but noticeable where it was looked at from up close. If he squinted his eyes, Miles could see the darker spot where the needle was typically inserted. Having seen her naked before, he was confused how he'd missed it, but he figured it could easily be mistaken by a crowded cloud of freckles.

"Okay. Breathe in," he told her, pinching her skin gently. "And..."

Billie was unfazed as the needle pierced through the layers of her skin, having undergone the same situation so many times before that it was now just a regular pain. After he was done, Miles was tender when covering her up, then helped her into a sitting position.

"Are you okay?" he asked again.

"Yeah. Thanks," she told him.

Miles nodded, but he didn't move, watching her from up close until she finally sighed.

"Actually, no." Billie bit down on her lip

He was expecting it, so he just looked at her squeezed her knee softly. "Have you been eating?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Have you been crying?"

"No."

"Sleeping?"

"No."

Miles nodded. "Are you sleepy?"

Billie shook her head.

"Are you tired?" he rephrased then.

This time, she nodded. 

"The insulin's gonna make you feel better, but you should head home. Do you want me to drive you?" he asked, his voice a kind whisper.

"Where were you?" Billie asked instead. "You know, the day of the shooting. I mean, I've been so caught up in... myself, essentially, that I haven't been checking up on anyone and I'm really sorry. But I heard you got cleared for surgery."

"No, it's okay. I've been stressed myself and I haven't checked up on you either," he told her, smiling reassuringly. "But I was... safe. I didn't see the shooter. I didn't get shot. I was in the PACU when they announced the lockdown and I just hung around until it was called off. I didn't see anything, didn't hear anything."

Billie nodded, feeling slightly envious inside, because he was fine and she wasn't. He'd gotten out unscathed, luckily, but she hadn't.

"I got shot." She laughed then, feeling a lump in her throat.

Miles looked down. "I heard. But your brother told me you're better."

"Yes, I am." Billie nodded. "And I broke up with Alex."

Now, he seemed slightly unsettled. He blinked a couple times. He would've screamed loudly at her, but he didn't wish to disturb the silence.

"Wait, what?" He frowned. "I mean, I heard something about it, but I didn't think it was true. I— Why? I thought you were finally all good."

Billie pressed her lips into a line. "Yeah. We were. I was. But... well, he got shot, too, and it was just all kind of a mess. And he kind of cried out for Izzie while we operated on him."

Miles grimaced. "Asshole."

"I know, right?" She laughed, thankful that he wasn't making a big deal about it. "I'm glad you were safe, though. It seems like everyone I care about was shot."

"Yeah, I got the best of it." Miles shrugged awkwardly. Then, he sort of smiled, sort of frowned. "You know, this is really mature of you."

"What? What is?"

"I don't know. You're, like, venting, but you're being calm about it. I mean, I know this kind of sucks to say, but I guess you know everybody expects you to break down."

"Yeah." Billie laughed. "I do."

"Well... you're not breaking down. I mean, I don't know if this is the calm before the storm of something, but you're being really adult," he noted, seeming genuinely surprised. "I'm really proud of you."

"I don't know if I should feel offended. Thanks, I guess?" She chuckled. "I feel like I'm done breaking down. It's brought me nothing so far. Although... maybe it just hasn't happened yet."

Miles couldn't help it. She brought Billie in for a hug and noticed she was startled at first, but it took her a second to laugh and hug him back tightly, balling up his scrub top, holding him like she wouldn't let him go. It felt like a hug that she hadn't been given in such a long time. 

"I needed that," she whispered, more to herself.

"Me, too," he confessed.

Billie pulled away, but still held onto his top. Miles dragged his hands down her arms, caressing her softly, very tenderly. She was surprised about how gentle he was with her, like he didn't mean to hurt her in any way. It felt refreshing, especially considering the fact that she'd lived in such a harsh reality with such harsh people.

"I'm actually pissed that you broke up with Alex," he said at last. "All the Jackson drama just for you to leave him? You're an idiot. So much for being the love of your life."

Billie took a hand to her face. "Fuck. I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. You either crawl back crying to Jackson begging for his forgiveness or you go get your man back and pretend like nothing ever happened," Miles scowled. "I didn't spend months listening to you bitching about him just for this to be the end of it."

"What, so I'm just supposed to act like he didn't call me his ex-wife's name to my face?"

"Well, I mean—" he stammered. "He was dying! What are you expecting? I'm sure you would have called him a number of names if it had been the other way around. He had absolutely no control about it and he can't advocate for himself because he probably doesn't even remember half of it."

It sounded logical, but Billie refused to be the one to break the silence.

"I can't listen to you any longer." She rolled her eyes playfully, then jumped off the gurney. She took the opportunity to lean in and kiss Miles' cheek. "Thanks for the insulin, big bro. I'm gonna go now."

"You suck."

"Yeah, yeah."

☆

Billie had thought it would be the end of a bad day at last, but speaking with Miles after so long had actually left her feeling slightly content. It was late at night, most of her friends had already left the hospital, including Meredith and Cristina, who'd departed together to the former's place to rip open a bottle and get drunk. Billie hadn't joined them because she'd only wanted to get home and sleep, so now she found herself in the residents' lounge, slipping into her boots to finally, once and for all, call it a day.

She wasn't half as tired as she'd expected, but she still yawned as she got her laces tied up. Nothing much was on her mind, except for that idea that still lingered of getting herself her own place. Her own apartment. Getting people to come over to her house. Billie's house. It was surreal to think that she was twenty-five and she had never owned anything as such. The only houses she'd ever known to be hers had been those that she'd lived in with her broken family and she no longer cradled those memories so close to her chest. She knew it was time for a fresh start, and even though Alex haunted her mind, she considered the possibility that perhaps the break-up, perhaps being alone for once, would help her heal. She craved a healthy life.

Although she never really got what she wanted.

"Hey."

When Billie heard Alex's voice, her mind was wiped off of anything she might have been considering a second earlier. She turned around and looked over her shoulder, where she caught him standing under the doorsill of the lounge, wringing his hands by his sides like he didn't quite know where to stand.

"What are you doing here?" she asked the first question that came to her mind. "Everybody's gone."

"Uh," he muttered. "I got the bullet removed like half an hour ago."

Billie's eyebrows shot up very lightly and she nodded, unable to come up with a proper response.

"Cool," she said only, reminding herself this was her ex-boyfriend, and not her person anymore. She thought. "Listen, Alex, I have a really bad headache and I'm also really tired, so I'd appreciate it if you please—"

"Billie, c'mon," he interrupted her, so she looked up to find his eyes. "Really? I mean, seriously? It's been years and this is just... it? Over something I said without even being conscious?"

"Alex, I'm not—"

"It's not fair."

"It's not just that, okay? Maybe the timing's not to your liking, but this is something I should've done a long time ago." Billie's voice grew hard. "You've done nothing but be a shitty friend to me and I appreciate that you were good while we were together, but this hasn't been healthy in a long time."

Alex ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. He watched her stand up as he shook his head.

"I know that's my fault, okay? I know that. I never meant to be so shitty, but you know I don't know how to handle these things," he exclaimed. "I've always been mean to everyone. You know it. It's not on purpose."

"I gave you so many chances, though." Billie shook her head. "For fuck's sakes, I was your best man while you got married to the one person you know I hate! How fucked is that? I was there supporting you in that moment because I knew it was important to you, but it was the worst for me. Ever. And I didn't say anything! I was still your friend even when you betrayed me."

Alex bit down on his lip. "I know. Okay? I'm sorry. But I'm trying to change."

"Well, you can't change what's already happened! You and Izzie happened. And Izzie left, which sucks, but it happened and it can't be undone! You've hurt me already, so I'm sorry if I'm not in for listening to you cry and say sorry again. It's too late. And you don't get to be mad about that!"

"I don't? Well, I am mad! I'm pissed!" Alex yelled, taking a step forward to be closer to her, to look into her eyes. "I thought we were finally together. I thought things were okay. You broke up with Jackson and it was the happiest I ever felt. I know I put you through some rough situations, but I'm changed. I changed. All I want now is to be with you."

Billie scowled. "Oh, don't even get me started on Jackson. Fuck. You're the one who's clearly not sure about what he wants!"

"I know what I want!"

"Oh, yeah? What do you want then?"

"I want you, Billie. I told you already. All I've ever wanted is you. I'm sorry things turned out this way, but I am sure about this. And if I have to spend every waking moment of my life proving to you how much I love you, then I will. I won't make the same mistake twice." Alex shook his head. "Izzie's a part of my past now. I should've waited for you and I know it. I should've never married her. But it's all behind me now. Okay?"

Billie's eyes welled with tears. She looked at him, her lips pursed, her eyebrows and her chin tense where she held herself back from crying. She shook her head, her bottom lip trembling.

"How can you expect me to believe all of that when you've proven to me time and time again that you're very much not over her?" she said, her voice now gentler, weaker. "I don't wanna get in a relationship with you then wake up one day and hear you mistaking me for her, or watch you get drunk and cry out for the wife that left you. I don't want to be called her name again, you know I don't. You can't even understand how... fucked up and disrespectful it was to me. I know you don't remember saying it. I know you were unconscious and shit. But I was torn trying to get you to not fucking die on me and in that moment, you were missing your ex-wife. So I'm not willing to sacrifice anything else for you. I'm not willing to love someone that doesn't love me back half as much."

Alex took a step forward and reached out a hand to grab her, but she pulled back, wiping a tear from her cheek. He shook his head.

"I'll make the sacrifices from now on," he told her confidently. "You get to treat me like shit now, okay? You deserve it. You treat me however you want, call me whatever names you want. You won't have to move a finger. I'll do this for the both of us, because I'm gonna prove to you that I've changed and that I want this. I want this life for us. I want you and only you. Okay? I promise."

Billie stayed quiet. He was closer now, the bench being the only thing separating them from one another. She wondered if she should just surrendered. But she didn't.

"You do that," she whispered quietly at last, fetching her backpack from the floor and finally leaving the lounge.

Alex looked down at his feet when he was alone. Part of him had expected his words to be enough to convince her, but Meredith was right: he wasn't used to fighting for anything in his life and maybe today was the time to start; to fight over something that was actually worth every effort.

Billie was worth every effort. He'd show her that.

☆

"I'm sorry for not believing you. You were right."

Dr. Perkins looked up from the file he was reading and caught Billie standing under the doorsill to his office. With an awakened curiosity due to the peculiar visit at such late hour of the night, he put down the many papers and clasped his hands together on his lap, watching the young girl where she stood coyly by the entrance.

"Dr. Black," he said in greeting. "No need to be sorry."

Billie didn't ask for permission when she strutted into the office and took a seat in front of him, sprawled back against the backrest. She fiddled with her thumbs on her lap, avoiding his eyes.

"You were right," she repeated. "I mean, fuck. I knew you were right all along, but you know I'm stubborn. I hate not being right."

Dr. Perkins laughed and awaited her following words.

"I'm fucked. I admit it." She sighed deeply, like it cost her tremendous effort just to say it. Then, the man noticed her eyes were stricken with blood, as if she had been crying. "It's all been a shit-show. I thought I could just move past it. I mean, I thought it wasn't that bad because I've always thought I wasn't scared of death. But I barely even remember what happened that day aside from some flashes of it, and I think that's proof enough of how traumatic it all was. Even for me."

He listened attentively as she found her words.

"I had different conversations with a lot of people that are very close to me throughout the day and I've thinking a lot. I've also been very... jumpy. Or maybe, like, anxious, I don't know. I've just been on edge. This hospital doesn't feel like my home anymore. Nowhere feels like home. Not even the house I live in with my brother. I'm trying to make sense out of things, but there are places, people I can't even look at because it all brings me back to that day and I can't fucking stand it." Billie clicked her tongue. "I'm a firm believer that if you lie to yourself, you eventually buy it. I mean, I've done it. I have believed my own lies. It's become what's easy for me with time because there are many things I'm in denial about that I eventually have to come to terms with it, but lying to myself feels more bearable than actually having to face it. But... it's been almost two months, I'm all patched up and healed, and my hand's still fucking shaking and I'm still not operating and I'm still... so scared. All the time, I'm so fucking scared that someone's just gonna pull out a gun and shoot me out of nowhere. And in between all that, I also lost a person that was very important to me and I'm, like, alone. All the time. There's no one I feel I trust enough."

There was a brief silence. Then, Billie shook her head.

"I sound selfish. I know there are people that care about me. Miles, Meredith, Cristina, Mark, Derek. I know they care for me," she said then. "But it's, like, this feeling that I can't quite put my finger on... like I've lost touch with everybody. Like I'm distanced from everything in my life, distanced from myself. I don't sleep anymore. I mean, not that I ever did, but it's worse now, and I come to the hospital and I do absolutely nothing, just nothing all the time, and I see that everybody's also fucked up, and then there's Miles that wasn't even the least affected by it, and it makes me so... jealous. Even though we all went through this together, it feels unfair that I lost so much and some people are still the same. Because it's hard to believe, but some of them haven't changed a bit. I mean, Alex, for instance. He kept that bullet inside himself, for what? As a reminder of everything that happened? And he didn't give a shit about it. And—And Miles talks to me like I'm this fragile thing. And I appreciate him so much. But how come he's fine? How come he spent the whole lockdown in the fucking PACU? Why wasn't I in the PACU? Why didn't he even hear the gunshots while I was the one that was being shot at? Because, did you know that Gary Clark had objectives that day?" Dr. Perkins frowned. "Yeah. He wanted to kill Webber and Shepherd, because they were the surgeons in charge of his wife, and then he wanted to kill... me. He said I gave him hope and then his wife died. And I have been feeling so guilty because it kind of feels like everything was my fault, but then it sounds ridiculous, but then... my hand is still shaking. And I'm still fucked up."

Billie's eyes were on her lap. She fiddled with a loose thread of her jeans until she finally shook her head.

"An—Anyway, I don't expect you to clear me after that, I probably need serious psychiatric attention... I just needed to tell you, because you wanted me to admit that I'm fucked up and so I'm admitting it. I'm fucked as hell." She chuckled humorlessly. "There. I've said it."

Dr. Perkins looked at her. There was somewhat of a faint grin on his face—not mocking, not happy. Almost proud. Then, he opened a drawer, took out a yellow piece of paper and a pen and signed it before handing it to her. Billie frowned tightly.

"You're cleared for surgery, Dr. Black," he said at last. She parted her lips in slight shock. "Thank you for your time."