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CHAPTER EIGHTY TWO
with you i'm born again.
season seven, episode one.

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FIVE DAYS LATER

"So, Billie," Dr. Baker, the trauma surgeon at Seattle Pres that had been taking care of Billie, waltzed into her hospital room, smiling widely, "I have good news for you."

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows boredly, unfazed by the announcement. 

"Really," he said. "You're cleared to go."

Billie frowned, suddenly confused. "I am?"

"Yes. You can leave. Are you excited?"

No. No, she wasn't excited. She wasn't excited to go back home to her brother's empty home, as he wouldn't be discharged for at least two more weeks. She wasn't excited to sleep alone in her bed. She wasn't excited to see Alex. She was all but excited. 

"Yes," she said then, faking her biggest smile. "That's great news, Dr. Baker. Thank you so much for everything you've done."

The man nodded.

"Dr. Sloan has already signed the discharge papers and you'll be home in no time. Remember, no physical exercise for at least a month, ice the shoulder whenever you can, be careful with the stitches and get plenty of rest. I'll see you in a bit." Dr. Baker dedicated her one last smile before he left the room, leaving her, once again, alone.

Only then did she uncover her right hand—the hand from the injured shoulder. She pulled it out from under the sheets and stared at it, stared at her shaking fingers, her twitching wrist. She wondered how come a week and a surgery had gone by and that damn tremor still wasn't gone.

☆

"I don't get it! It's ridiculous." Billie threw her hands in the air exasperatedly, looking at Perkins across the table in the conference room. "I'm ready! I'm ready. I swear I am. I've been jogging every morning, having healthy breakfast and shit, I sleep eight hours a night, and I've recovered full mobility of my shoulder. See?" She began twisting and rolling her previously injured arm for him to see. "No pain, no discomfort. I'm healed. It's been two months, I'm healed. And I'm ready to go back to work."

Perkins simply stared at her with that shit-eating solemness stricken across his face. "I don't think you are."

"God, Jesus." Billie pinched at the bridge of her nose frustratedly.

"You were shot, were under a lot of stress for a prolonged period of time, not to mention, watched your brother and your boyfriend dying in front of you, all at the same time, and was even held at gunpoint. I think you're lying to yourself. You've suffered a great trauma, Dr. Black."

Images of Alex's half-inert body on that same conference table flashed through her head. The sight of Gary Clark seeking to kill her, not once, but twice, like a haunting memory in the back of her mind. She shook it all off.

"So has everyone else. People died. Yet I'm the one who can't do surgery. It's ridiculous!" Billie snorted. "I swear, I'm okay. And I'd be much better if I could operate. In fact, the only thing that worries me right now is Cristina."

"Cristina?"

"She's getting married and the last time she almost did, I had to cut her out of her wedding dress with a pair of scissors." She laughed, then paused for a few seconds. "You know, I read this article recently that said that people who've suffered great trauma usually go and change their whole lives after it. They say the trauma changed them, that it is the best thing that ever happened to them. Kinda like Owen and Cristina, that decided to get married right after all this shit. And I—I know it sounds kinda stupid, but I believe in that. What's done is done and the past is in the past. I can't change what happened, but I can look forward and try to make the best out of this shitty situation we were in. But that starts by you letting me operate."

"I don't believe that." Mr. Perkins shook his head, and Billie found herself growing angry.

"What do you mean you don't believe it?"

"I don't." He leant in forward, propping his elbows on the conference table. "You were at gunpoint, your life was at risk and you didn't die because of a miracle. I'm sorry, but I don't believe you think this trauma is the best thing that ever happened to you."

"I was at gunpoint twice. The first time, I was shot. I'm not scared to die." Billie snorted. "Why would I be scared to die? You know, it's stupid and you're a bad counselor. I can't just lie around at home and do nothing, waiting for what, exactly? Things won't get better if I don't move on."

"Dr. Black."

"No! I need to do something with my life. I'm healed. I'm healed! Okay? I'm better. I don't have any nightmares, I sleep soundly, I eat. I haven't had any breakdowns, as I usually do. I'm not traumatized. It was a bad experience, yes, but it's not something I can't move on from."

"Dr. Black, will you stop moving your leg?"

Billie suddenly stopped. She hadn't noticed the frantic bouncing of her leg, up, down, up, down, over the past thirty minutes. She'd been so anxiously concealed within herself that she hadn't been aware of the movement of her own leg.

"You're anxious, all the time. I see you. You move a thousand miles an hour, you don't even give me time to speak. You grab up on these habits, like moving your leg, picking at your lips, at your nails, and you have too much energy all the time. You're always on edge. You get scared at the slightest sound, become startled by anything. You're having a stress peak." 

"I'm always anxious. I have anxiety." She rolled her eyes.

"Which has been exacerbated ever since the accident," Dr. Perkins explained. "And until you are able to be at ease, I cannot clear you for surgery."

☆

FOURTEEN DAYS LATER

Billie had been unsure at first. She had hesitated whether to visit or not Alex at his apartment, as he had been recently discharged from the hospital and had been bombarding her phone with messages, asking her to come visit him, telling her that he missed her and wanted to see her. She wasn't sure whether she was ready.

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe she was just too sensitive. But his words had stirred something inside her, hard enough to leave a pit in her stomach for the last two weeks and te weeks to come. That feeling that Alex still had unresolved feelings for Izzie made her toss and turn at night, unable to sleep, and that image... that damned image of him covered in blood, begging for the wife that abandoned him, hade made her feel so worthless.

Of course, he remembered nothing of it. He'd been agonizing at the moment, delirious due to the blood lost in the span of a whole hour, which was why Billie wasn't mad at him, rather mad at the things he felt. She didn't blame him for speaking his thoughts that way, but she hated that his thoughts had wrecked her more than the shooting itself. Her life had been finally aligned for a short period of time before the incident and had now gone back to shit.

But in the end, she'd resolved she wouldn't tell Alex anything. She'd deal with it on her own and eventually would overcome it—even if that meant pretending that she was fine in the meantime. I mean, eventually, she would be fine. So, what was the problem with keeping it to herself?

Billie was at Alex's door. After having rang the bell, it only took a few seconds for the man in question to come rushing to the door, and once he opened it, Billie felt so weirdly saddened by the glint in his eyes that she had a hard time smiling. He wore only sweatpants and a shirt and she could see the outline of his bandages under the clothing, but she tried her best to ignore it.

"Bils! God, I've missed you," he exclaimed, immediately engulfing her in his arms, planting his lips on hers, kissing her deeply.

She didn't have time to react. Alex was immediately showering her in compliments, telling her she looked as beautiful as ever, telling her he loved her, that he'd missed her, that those two weeks had been the longest without her. He was already pulling her into the apartment and she felt he was going too fast, but then she remembered this wasn't a first date—although it sure as hell felt like it. She felt she didn't know him.

Was she so changed?

☆

"Derek got arrested again," Meredith announced as she strolled out of the elevator alongside her husband.

"Again?" Billie snorted.

"Meredith, please." Derek sighed.

"Reckless endangerment."

"Did he lose his license yet?" Cristina, next to Billie, asked.

"Oh, no, because they don't charge him because the cops worship him."

"Because I saved some of their lives," Derek stated arrogantly.

Billie frowned. "Okay?"

"What are we picking?" Meredith asked once she'd taken a peek at the magazine on Cristina's hand.

"Dress color."

"Please don't wear white. It's sexist and... vaguely racist," Billie told her. "I'm gonna wear black when I get married."

"No white, no veil, no rice," Cristina agreed.

"Well, what will your mother say?" Meredith wondered, confused at the non-traditional wedding her best friend was planning.

"No mother."

Billie suddenly huffed out loud. "You know, I didn't get cleared for surgery and I'm pretty sure Mark had something to do with that."

"I didn't get cleared for surgery either and I know it's Derek's fault," Meredith chorused.

"Meredith, I am the Chief. I can overrule the counselor," the man said.

"You can?"

"Yes!"

"I love the blue," Billie pointed out, peeking at Cristina's magazine.

"Chief Shepherd, you're back!" April smiled widely once she saw the man, instantly joining the group.

"Good morning," he replied curtly, handing her his coat.

"I found a giant base skull chordoma. Biggest one I've ever seen. Kid came into the ER with trouble breathing," she explained quickly.

"You got cleared for surgery?" Billie exclaimed, disbelieving, sharing a look with Meredith.

"I did."

"Bitch!" the two best friends chorused.

"I like the brown, too," Cristina pointed at another dress on her magazine, whilst Derek took a look at the scans handed to him by April.

"I know it looks inoperable. I mean, I would've said it was inoperable. But you're back. And you're you."

Billie rolled her eyes, but before she could continue her stroll down the hallway towards the lobby, a hand pulled at her arm roughly, pulling her apart.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, but as soon as she recognized Jackson's blue eyes, she stopped. "Hey."

"Hey," he said softly. "I wanted to talk to you."

"What's up?" Billie asked, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear timidly. 

"How are you doing? How's the shoulder?"

"Good. Good, it's fine. I'm okay." She smiled softly, touched by his checking up on her in spite of the way things had ended between them.

A brief flashback of Gary Clark's gun to her head came rushing into her head. Then, her own reflection in the mirror as she stared at the faint violet scar running perpendicular on her shoulder, about three inches long, awful to one's sight.

She cleared her throat awkwardly.

"What about you? I haven't seen much of you lately," she asked then.

"I'm okay. Just glad we're all fine," he said. 

"Okay." She nodded. "Have you... have you heard anything about Alex? I haven't seen him in a bit.

"No, not at all. Why?" 

Billie sighed. "Nothing much."

☆

THIRTY DAYS LATER

Billie had been very mad recently.

She'd been putting off visits to Alex's place, avoiding his attempts at calling her and messaging her, although not so harshly so as for him to suspect something was going on. She'd been sulking in her room filled by a consuming rage she couldn't even explain.

For days now, she'd made it her job to go over everything happened the day of the shooting and she felt so stupid, so tricked. Like Alex had lured her into a relationship by saying all those nice things as if he hadn't married another girl without even hesitating. She felt stupid, like she'd believed a lie. 

Maybe she was overthinking too much. She knew Alex hadn't lied to her. But she was irreversibly mad. 

That day, however, Alex had insisted too much and she had had no choice but to go over to his apartment to spend the night. Now, the morning after a night where she had avoided sex at all costs, there they were.

"I'm getting bored of hanging around this stupid apartment all the time. I wanna operate." Alex huffed like a child, sat at the couch while Billie did some dishes, getting used to her recovering shoulder again.

"Well, you gotta get cleared first," she noted. 

"I am gonna get cleared," he assured, lifting his shirt just above his chest to show, for what felt like the hundredth time, the wide scar on his side. "With this badass scar, the stupid counselor will know I'm not traumatized and will clear me. You'll see."

Billie knew it was an inoffensive joke, but she didn't laugh. Not because she was still masking her anger, but because seeing his scar was not the greatest reminder for her. Even though it was an anecdote for Alex, he hadn't been there, hadn't seen himself laying on that table, hadn't cried the way she'd cried. He hadn't been at gunpoint as she'd had.

For him, it was just a blur, something to laugh about at family dinners. For her, it was a trauma that wouldn't leave her.

Alex realized she didn't laugh. He'd been noticing her ubiquitous absence lately, and because he hadn't been told the exact details of the day of the shooting and he didn't quite remember anything, he didn't understand why. Why she seemed so mad at him, or what was gnawing at her insides to completely dim her usual brightness. 

Clicking his tongue, he stood up and sought to change the topic of conversation.

"Wanna have sex?" he asked, walking towards the countertop and propping himself onto it to stare at her with a suggestive grin.

Billie laughed with a frown, turning off the running water, then drying her hands with a tablecoth. "What?"

"C'mon!" He smiled, surrounding the counter to catch her at the waist.

"Alex, wait." She giggled softly when he began kissing her neck. "Stop."

"Let's make kids!" he exclaimed, discarding his t-shirt in a swift movement.

Billie froze. Then, she caught sight of his scar and it was too much.

"Wait, I—I can't. I'm sorry," she said, immediately pushing him away.

In a split second, she scurried from his grip, grabbed all of her stuff from the couch and left the apartment, her heart beating a thousand miles a minute. On the way back to her car, she began crying, whereas Alex stared at the closed door with a frown, unable to suss out what the hell had just happened.

☆

"I dig weddings. I do a mean chicken dance," Jackson said through a mouthful of his lunch.

Billie, Meredith, Cristina, Jackson and Lexie were in the tunnels, sat on some gurneys as they stuffed their faces, unable to go to the cafeteria or eat in public due to the gossiping that followed them everywhere. 

"Oh, there will be no chicken dance. And if you start a conga line, I will physically throw you out," Cristina said curtly.

April came rushing in with her own food tray. "I just went to the cafeteria and some nurse called me Reed and then said I thought you died."

"Yeah, you don't go to the cafeteria for lunch." Billie immediately shook her head. "They just point and stare."

"They stare because we should've died." Cristina shrugged carelessly.

Billie rolled her eyes. "Pack a lunch, keep it in your locker."

April nodded in agreement, then proceeded to sit by Jackson on the gurneys by the wall. Soon enough, Alex showed up, and Billie didn't find it in her to look him in the eye... not until he pulled out from behind his back a yellow piece of paper signaling his clearance for surgery.

"You are kidding me! You got cleared?" Meredith immediately exclaimed, offended.

"It's down to you, Yang and Billie," Alex said as he took a seat, laughing mockingly.

"That's not funny." Billie rolled her eyes, but barely looking at him.

Alex didn't miss the gesture. She looked at her for one more second, hoping she'd at least look into his eyes, but she didn't. Not like they were in the best of terms. 

"Well, Perkins is no dummy. He can see the crazy right under the Billie Black surface," Cristina joked.

"Again, Cristina. It's not funny because you're not gonna get cleared either and all three of us will be stuck serving Slushees at the multiplex." She huffed.

"Really? I'd choose dermatology over multiplex."

"I'd go gynecology over dermatology," Jackson butted in.

"Of course you would, perv."

The man rolled his eyes until Lexie's soft voice interrupted them.

"I think I'd go with Psych," she said.

There was an awkward silence before the—now brunette—resident rolled her eyes.

"That was a joke."

Everyone immediately let out fake laughs.

"Anyway, I don't know what Perkins' problem is with me," Billie then said.

"Maybe... he saw your file?" Cristina suggested mockingly.

"There's nothing in my file."

"Except for the part where you ran away from your father, changed your name, came here and now go crazy every five to ten working days?" Jackson suggested with a grin.

She stared at him. "Not funny."

"Not a joke."

Alex stared at the two of them with a frown across his face. As far as he'd heard from Billie, her and Jackson weren't anything close to friends anymore, so he wondered, with a tinge of jealousy, why they were bantering together like old buddies.

☆

FORTY-TWO DAYS LATER

Billie was back at the hospital.

Much to her dismay, after two therapy sessions with Mr. Perkins, the man still refused to clear her for surgery, and her rage caused by the events that had unfolded the day of the shooting was added to the rage she felt now after a month and a half without seeing the inside of an OR.

Regardless, she'd been able to find a safe space in the hospital. As it was always crowded, she now chose to spend her nights there, where she wasn't alone like back at her brother's house. Even though the hospital was the star of all of her nightmares, and even though she became startled by the smallest of sounds, and even though hospitals at night had always been sketchy to her, at least she was slightly more at ease.

And not only that—Billie was also quite keen on the fact that, as Alex wasn't back to work yet, at least she didn't have to worry about running into him. He'd left her multiple messages after the last time they'd seen each other two weeks back, none of which she'd bothered to even look at, telling herself she was too busy to handle that at the moment.

But truth was, she couldn't get it out of her head.

That day, however, Alex was coming back. And she wasn't aware of that until he came up to her.

Billie was quite distracted charting by a nurses station, so when Alex sneaked up behind her and touched her back, she almost literally jumped, startled by his sudden presence.

"God, fucking— Jesus, Alex!" she exclaimed. "You can't just sneak up on people like that!"

"Wow, okay. Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He immediately took a step back out of reflex, he himself surprised by her reaction. "I just... wanted to talk to you."

"Okay, but don't do that! Fuck." She shook her head. "What is it?"

Alex didn't get it. "Uhm... hi?"

"Hi. What is it?"

"Maybe... you're my girlfriend and I haven't seen you in two weeks, you haven't answered any of my texts or calls and the last time we saw each other, I tried to have sex with you and you ran away like I did something," he blurted out in one breath, becoming frustrated with her behavior. "Not only that, you've been distant for weeks, avoiding me, refusing to come over... what's up with you?"

Billie looked at him with a frown upon her face, trying to discover whether he was actually being serious.

"Oh, haven't you heard? There was a shooting in the hospital," she replied sarcastically. "If you go around asking, you'll probably get the full story."

Alex sighed and closed his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that, Billie. I know we're all... changed."

"Well, not you, apparently. You just have your badass scar 'cause you're such a hotshot, don't you? 'Cause you fought off the shooter and survived due to a miracle," she said mockingly, then shook her head. "Just so you know, while you were unconscious, the rest of us were actually fighting and putting ourselves in danger to keep you alive. And a lot of people died that day, Alex. You didn't, fortunately, thanks to us. But a lot of people did. And in case nobody told you, I almost died trying to save you. So, sorry if I've been a little distracted, I've been dealing with some stuff."

"Billie, you know I wasn't—"

"No, it's okay. Anyway, I'm sure chicks dig scars like that, right? It'll be a nice story to tell."

Then, she left, without even telling him how she actually felt.

☆

It was Owen and Cristina's wedding.

They had decided to host it at Derek and Meredith's place and all of the guests were already there, where the house was set beautifully, dimly lit under the light of multiple candles.

Billie was at the kitchen. She wore a single strap jade green dress, with an opening at her upper abdomen and a slit revealing one of her legs. It had been her mother's dress once, which she'd given to her only daughter before she died, and Billie had thought it fit to wear it today. She felt pretty.

But she didn't feel too good inside.

She missed her boyfriend, hated him too, even though she didn't even know why. Her life had been a mess lately—she'd been unable to heal, despite what she told everyone, and she wanted Alex to stay away for a while, but at the same time, she just needed him. Needed him to be there while she bettered herself, needed him to overcome the shooting. She felt at a loss, wanting to be comforted by the person that had hurt her.

As she thought of it, someone came into the kitchen, and she raised her head only to find Alex in a suit staring at her hesitantly. She just looked back down at the champagne glasses she was arranging on a tray and he decided to walk past her towards the fridge to grab himself a beer, keeping an awkward quiet, as if he didn't know how to act. Then, as he held the bottle in his hand, he looked at her.

"You look beautiful," he said. "The whole... green, tight dress, it's working for you. For whatever it's worth."

Billie laughed under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You know," she began, "what you said to me, while you were dying? You know why I've been so mad, why I've been avoiding you?"

Alex frowned. "No."

"Okay." She chuckled softly under her breath. "For whatever it's worth, Alex... you feel so proud of yourself for having lived, but while you were on that table, you were crying out for the wife that left you, calling me her name, to my face. So yes, Alex, I've been distant. I've been trying, for the life of me, to understand whether you said all that because you still have feelings for Izzie or not. And I've been doing some rational thinking, okay? I know you were agonizing. I know you didn't know what you were saying. But if you said it, deep inside it, you feel it."

There was a silence.

"I know Izzie leaving you hurt you. It would hurt anyone," she continued. "But the more I think about it, the less sense it makes to me. How you told me you've always loved me, always wanted to be with me, but had no problem completely throwing away the chance I gave you and marrying Izzie while I wasn't available. It just... makes me wonder, you know? Whether anything you said to me was real. And it's so sad that I was waiting so long for this to happen between us and once we finally got it, all this shit happened. But it happened. And, believe it or not, I feel cheated. "

Alex had closed his eyes and looked down at the floor. He was shaking his head.

"Billie, I'm so sorry. I had no idea I had said all that," he said.

"No, I know you didn't," she was quick to reply, "but it still hurt."

"I don't—I don't know what to say. I don't know how to explain this to you. Nothing I ever told you was a lie."

"Don't, Alex. Don't. Not right now. Just... let me be, for a while," Billie told him, slowly backing towards the door. "For the time being, until I can sort this out, please... just leave me alone."

Alex frowned. "Wait, what does that mean? Are you breaking up with me?"

Billie pressed her lips into a thin line and shrugged her shoulders.

"It means... I don't know what the hell I should do," she laughed sorely, "and I need some time to think."

Then, she left.