March 30 2021
Sixth days off. That's all she'd allowed herself.
Now AJ walked back into Grey Sloan's halls with her lab coat sharp, hair tied tight, and a face like stone. Anyone who hadn't heard the gossip would never guess what she'd been through.
The interns straightened when they saw her, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. None of them dared speak first.
AJ -Alright
AJ said briskly, her voice steady even though her chest felt hollow.
Aj - What disasters am I cleaning up today?
---
It didn't take long for the chaos to return.
Jackson mislabeled a chart—again. Simone signed off on a patient transfer without double-checking the orders. Gabriel argued with an attending. Parker dropped an entire tray of sterile tools.
AJ corrected every mistake with surgical precision. Her tone was sharp, but not explosive. Almost... restrained.
Still, Camilla saw it—the way AJ's hands shook slightly when she thought no one was looking, the way she pressed her palm against her abdomen when she stood too long, the faint tremor in her voice when she snapped at Gabriel.
AJ was holding the department together, but just barely.
---
Later, in the scrub room, Camilla cornered her.
Camilla - You look pale
Camilla said flatly.
AJ tied her mask tighter.
AJ - I'm fine.
Camilla - You always say that
Camilla shot back.
Camilla- Doesn't make it true.
AJ's eyes flicked up, sharp.
AJ - Drop it, Camilla.
But Camilla didn't move. She studied her best friend—the faint shadows under her eyes, the tension in her shoulders.
*Something's wrong,* she thought. *Something deeper than stress.*
But AJ gave her no opening, and Camilla knew better than to push too hard. Not yet.
---
That evening, AJ sat in her office surrounded by charts, the pager buzzing like a relentless insect.
She was grieving. She was exhausted. She was angry.
But she was still Chief of Neuro. The department didn't pause because her heart had broken. Her interns didn't stop needing her because she was bleeding inside.
So she answered every page. Signed every order. Double-checked every scan.
And when the door finally shut and she was alone, she let her hands drop, her shoulders slump, and her grief flicker across her face for just a moment—before she buried it again.
---
