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chapter sixteen. (a ghost from new york ) S2E18 — yesterday.
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IT SEEMED THAT THE INCIDENT with the bomb disappeared as quick as it had come. But Daphne is still reeling from the affects of it. A concussion and ten stitches onto the back of her head is proof of what had occurred, as is Meredith's injuries too. The death of Dylan Young is pushed to the back of everyone's mind, particularly when the hallway where the bomb went off is restored and everyone goes back to their lives.
But Daphne still remembers it. She's not sure she will ever be able to forget. It took her a small amount of time to step foot in an OR again, fearing that the surgeon will cut open a body cavity and the whole OR will explode into nothingness — into pink mist. It's terrifying, but Daphne overcomes it. She has to, if she wants to be a good surgeon.
In the interns locker room, Daphne tears her shirt over her head and shimmies out of her jeans and grabs her scrubs from her locker, when she turns her head and notices Alex looking at her. She raises a brow, "Something to say?"
Alex smirks, "Well . . . not something I really should say out loud."
Daphne scoffs, but far from surprised. "Very classy, Karev."
She pulls her baby-blue scrub pants up her legs, while the flirtatious look from Alex fades from his face. "How's your head?" He wonders, curious.
Daphne's fingers fly instinctively to the back of her head, where the healing wound is starting to fade into nothingness, and one day will be a silver scar there. "It's fine," she answers as she shrugs her scrub top over head. "Still a bit tender to the touch. It hurts especially when I put my hair up. But Derek did a good job with the stitches."
