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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
losing my religion.
season two, episode twenty-seven.

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Billie slowly opened her eyes.

In front of her, the world seemed blurry, the sounds sounded muffled, and the sensations were all toned down to a minimum. She couldn't feel anything too much. Not the pain, not the love, not the hate, not the sadness. Not even the smell of antiseptic that owned the hospital, which had always been a topic of annoyance to the girl.

She felt little, she felt nothing.

Billie's eyes were two narrow slits which only allowed a speck of the mahogany brown stripping her irises to be seen. She moved them around, she didn't feel anything. She didn't see anything, she didn't smell anything, she didn't touch anything.

She was alone.

Until she wasn't.

"She's waking up." Billie heard coming from somewhere in the distance.

Slowly, she felt a little. Very slowly, she felt it all.

Her blurry vision gave space for a clear, prefaced image to form in front of her; her ears sharpened to the sound of a thousand voices; her fingers lost the numbness and became one with the world around them.

The silk sheets, the patient gown, the pain, the breathing tube. It was all there, and she felt it.

A nurse approached her, someone she did not recognize nor know, and soon, the tube was pulled out of her mouth. She gagged at the emptiness of her throat and licked her lips, feeling the chapped skin, but wincing when her tongue came in contact with what felt like a cut.

"Billie?" a voice called.

Soon, a face popped into her peripheral vision. A face that held a great deal of shiny black hair and eyes the color of the sky. A face which Billie recognized as Derek's. He flashed a light into her eyes, but she simply smiled. For the first time in what felt like decades, she simply smiled.

The sight made Derek's face morph into a relieved grin and he feathered his lids shut briefly, then looked back into her eyes. When he pushed himself up, however, Billie realized he wasn't the only one in the room. In front of her, was her family.

Cristina, Meredith, George, Izzie, Webber, Bailey, Addison, even Denny, who sat on a wheeling chair... and Alex.

Alex was there, leaning against the doorsill, eyes bloodshot and puffy. When they locked gaze, he stood up straight and his eyes widened tenfold, relief causing him to run up to her bed and kneel down beside her. He held her hand.

"Billie?"

"Alex," she whispered hoarsely, feeling her unused voice straining on her vocal cords. Alex smiled tearily.

"I was so worried for you," he said.

"Billie," another voice called, so the girl looked up to meet Denny's eyes, who rolled towards her on the wheeling chair.

"Hey!" She chanted with a smile, sounding weak, but full of life. Her hand fell into his. "How's the new heart beating?"

"Slick as a whistle." He drew a dimpled smile.

Billie looked at him, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for it, I would've very much liked to see that."

"Oh, yeah, I'll never forgive you for that. I mean, since when is crashing your car more important than watching your uncle get a new heart?" Denny rolled his eyes playfully.

The two of them laughed and Billie then looked at the rest of the crowd that was gathered up in the room, one hand still on Alex's, who seemed to be ready to never let go again. A smile formed up on her lips.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking mostly at Derek.

"You're okay?" he asked. The girl nodded. "Are you sure?"

"You saved my life," she said, seeming almost too happy not to be high on morphine. "I can't be any more sure."

"Well, there's a bunch of stuff that you missed while you were dead," he said playfully, although the word still felt bitter in his tongue. "You might wanna start asking around."

☆

That afternoon, after the doctors dispersed out of Billie's room, one of them stayed behind. It could've been Alex, who was refusing to go, but Billie had sent him to get her some Doritos, so he had to go. No, the one that stayed was Izzie Stevens.

She went up to Billie's bed and sat by the end, placing a hand delicately on her knee to signal her presence.

"I'm glad you didn't die, you know?" The blonde smiled genuinely.

Billie laughed, "Yeah, that would've been a terrible way to go."

"Hm, it was actually kinda cool though... you know, everyone looking for you and all. You have quite a bit of influence around here," Izzie reasoned, frowning playfully. They laughed for a second and silence followed, but the blonde didn't go.

Billie arched an eyebrow, "Izzie?"

"Yeah?"

"Spit it out."

The blonde's smile completely faded and she looked away, biting the corner of her lip anxiously. Billie frowned in confusion, unsure where the weird behavior was coming from, but her answer arrived when Izzie finally opened her mouth.

☆

Derek and Bailey rushed into Billie's room as soon as they got the 911 page from the nurse, but instead of entering the space to meet the scene they would've expected, which was either an unconscious or dead Billie, they saw something else.

In the middle of the room, Izzie stood, tense from head to toes. On the bed, Billie's eyes were welled up with tears that streamed down her cheeks, face red in anger. Her words were almost unintelligible as she screamed, so loud that Derek was surprised her throat wasn't compromised.

"You fucking bitch!" Billie yelled. "You egomaniacal, self-centered, selfish, fucking bitch!"

Derek and Bailey frowned at each other, although the latter had a forming theory in her head.

"What the hell did you do?" The former glared at Izzie as he saw his best friend in obvious disturbance.

However, once a stain of blood started growing on Billie's patient gown signaling that she'd snapped her stitches, Derek and Bailey silently agreed on the same thing and ran towards her bed, holding her arms back to stop her from moving and causing any further damage to herself. If they hadn't been there, they knew she would've gotten up, and they knew she might've bled too much.

"Izzie, get the hell out of here!" Bailey yelled, trying to get ahold of his intern, but the blonde was frozen in spot.

"How could you!" Billie shouted unceasingly. "How could you do that! He's my only family, you fucking psychopathic bitch!"

"Izzie, leave the room!" Derek repeated, struggling to hold back the girl on the bed in order to prevent her stitches from coming off anymore.

"You fucking- fuck!" Billie was cut off by her own pain, which began irradiating from her stomach upwards in a sharp motion, along the line of her now open incision.

She fell onto the bed, crying and sobbing uncontrollably, and Izzie flinched instinctively at the sight of the blood starting to pour down her gown. The people on the other side of the door, mostly nurses, spared glances in the screaming girl's direction, but she didn't care. She didn't care.

"Isobel, get out, now!"

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

☆

"Your stitches snapped off," Derek said playfully as he cut the thread and placed a bandage over the recently sutured surgery incision. "You're kinda strong, you know that, right?"

Billie didn't answer. Her head was facing the opposite direction and her jaw was clenched, eyes puffy in the aftermath of a crying session. Her hands were clenched in fists by her sides as Derek pulled down her gown and took off his gloves.

"Billie."

"Go away, Derek," she huffed out, evidently holding back her tears.

"Billie."

"I said go away!" Billie yelled, glancing at him briefly, but then looking away immediately.

Derek paused, "No."

"God, Derek, why can't you-"

"No!" He raised his voice too, causing Billie's head to shoot in his direction. "No, Billie. I almost lost you today. Out of nowhere! You just went and got into a freaking car crash, out of nowhere! You have no idea how worried I was that you might die, that I might lose you. That Alex, that Meredith, that Cristina... that they'd lose you. And as your family, I have the right to worry and I have the right to try and help you. You do not get to push me away, and you do not get to lock yourself up in your little corner. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Whether you say something, or not."

Billie stayed silent, shocked, with the tears accumulated in her waterlines. Derek's face didn't morph a single bit; the compassion in his eyes, the pity, the concern, everything he'd went through in the last twelve hours was still there, and it pained Billie to watch.

"Just get me the Chief, please," Billie begged.

☆

Laying on her bed, Billie watched as Richard Webber pulled a chair from the wall and placed it in front of her bed, then sat down on it. His expression was stern, expectant to the words Billie was mentally preparing herself to state.

The truth, that's what it was.

She sat cross-legged on the bed under the covers, with a sweater over her patient gown and her chin not shifting a single bit, just her eyes following the Chief's movements. Her whole body was visibly tense.

"Billie," he said. "You wanted to talk to me?"

The girl nodded, "I have something I need to say, and I need to say it before I regret this decision because it's really important that I get it out."

Richard paused for a second, frowning briefly, "Why do you think you'd regret it?"

"Because some very infimum, dark and twisty place inside me still has a little bit of affection towards Izzie. And I hate that part of me with everything I have, but I know doing this will destroy her. Her and her medical career. So... I need to say it before I can't anymore."

Webber slowly understood where she wanted to get. He took a deep breath, very slowly, and lifted his chin, allowing space for Billie to keep talking.

The girl swallowed, "Her. It was her who cut the LVAD wire, and it was her who almost killed my uncle. She came over to me and told me. And I need you to fire her now because if I ever see her again, you won't like what I do to her."

☆

"Hi, Den."

Billie visited Denny in his room later that night, where the man read a magazine and seemed to be bored out of his ass. However, as soon as he saw her, he smiled widely, showcasing two dimples that would always make Billie's heart melt.

"Oh, you look like crap, kid." He chuckled.

"Normally, I'd say the same thing about you, but the new heart is really making you glow," she said with a smile, propping each of her elbows on the armrests of the wheeling chair.

"Oh, no, honey. Not the heart-love is what's making me glow." Denny nodded his head with a grin. "I'm getting married."

Billie squinted her eyes and laughed, "Really? To who? Sara Sidle from CSI? God, please don't tell me you fell for a TV character."

Denny chuckled, "No. To Izzie. We're engaged."

The smile left Billie's lips like a ghost and it was kept lingering in the air, but then disappeared. Denny's grin didn't falter whatsoever, but Billie was disbelieving of the situation.

"Okay, is this one of those terrible pranks where you then show me the hidden camera and laugh your ass off in front of my face because you caught it all on video? Because, really, it sucks."

"It's not a prank, kid!" He smiled cheerily. "I'm getting married."

"Denny." The girl gasped slightly. "You're not getting married to Izzie. No way in hell you're getting married to her."

This time, Denny's smile did disappear, and he frowned, "What?"

"She cut your LVAD wire! She almost killed you. And not as a joke. I mean, literally, seriously, almost murdered you. She's fucking crazy!" Billie raised her voice a little. "You're not getting married to her, you promised."

"I promised nothing, kid," he said, shaking his head. "And the last time I checked, I was a grown-ass man that can make decisions for himself."

"Denny! God, are you mad?" she began, but was cut off by the sound of her clock alarm going off. "I have to go get my dressings changed, but I will come back. And I really, really hope you've changed your mind by then."

☆

Billie really loved beginnings.

The first bite of a hot pretzel as she took a walk down the park. The initial stage of gray clouds that foresaw an incoming storm. The start of a surgery, with the symbolic call for the scalpel. The sunup. The first period of a relationship, where everything was simple and reduced to the mere touch of someone else's lips. The beginning of a book, the very first sentence. The first moment as the hot water of the shower drenched her shoulders and forced her body to suck in the warmth. The action of starting a week-long road trip, where she'd get into the car with a smile. The first sip of a local IPA.

Billie really loved beginnings, but she also loved endings.

The feeling of going to sleep at the end of the day, where she'd jump into bed and get under the covers. The last sentence of a good novel. The round of applause following the credits of a movie. The final crumbs of Doritos that would always hide in the very bottom of the bag. The smell of freshly-baked cookies after a long baking session. The sundown. The end of a storm, where she'd look up and breathe in the petrichor. The final stage of a very long, successful surgery, involving a nice pat on the back and a mouthful of self-respect. The result she'd get after spending hours in front of a mirror, applying all sorts of makeup only to accentuate her natural beauty.

Billie really loved endings, but nonetheless, there were also some she hated.

Break-ups.

Loss of hope.

Goodbyes.

Last conversations.

Death.

Billie was never scared of dying. God, how could she be scared of dying after spending years of her life craving a quick death? Imagining she fell asleep and never woke up, and finding comfort in it? Picturing her dad beating her until there was nothing left to cherish? She wasn't scared of death; what scared her was what came after it.

Denny Duquette got his ending on a Friday night, at seven forty-two p.m.. It was quick, painless, but what followed wasn't. No, of course what followed wasn't painless. In fact, it was too much pain to even be handled, which was exactly Billie's greatest fear.

Billie Black found out about Denny's death over ten minutes after it happened, from Derek's mouth. He wished he hadn't been the one to hurt her that way, but there was no one else around to give her the well-deserved truth.

Oh, how Billie wished the truth had been a lie.