Flatline ~ Jackson Avery

FIFTEEN

 "So how have you been, Dr. Shepherd?" Perkins asked me as we sat on opposite sides of the table. This was my seventh time visiting the trauma counselor after getting myself discharged from the hospital.

"I know a lot of stuff has happened since the shooting. Alex was cleared, April was cleared, and then Lexie. Yesterday you cleared Jackson, and he got to work as I watched him in the O.R. gallery with my patient. I was more than a little jealous and pissed off by the fact that he got discharged and I was watching him do my surgery." I picked at the tape that was leftover on the table.

"Alright, but..." Perkins thought for a while. "Let's talk about what's happening with you. Forget about getting cleared for surgery." He said to my calmly.

"I-I don't have anything to say." I shrugged. "What do you want me to say, 'I'm okay?'" I scoffed.

"You asked a shooter to shoot you." He started.

"Ah, you see. I don't want to start there." I smiled. "But sure, sure, okay. I-If you say so." I sighed. "Have you ever met that one person in your life where you hate them at first because of who they are? Like they used to work at this other hospital you were competing with, and then his friends and him decide to come over and expect us to play nice." I blurted out. Perkins looked at me without saying a word, so I continued. "I really hated him at first. I d-did. But then I-" I stopped myself, because I didn't want Perkins to think I was suicidal by standing in front of Frank to protect him from Don. "I don't know what hit me, but I noticed how kind he was, and even when m-my friends disapproved, I went out with the guy and I learned to love him. It felt differently than the times I went with the other guys I-I thought I loved." My hands were trembling now, and I sounded quite like a nervous Lexie. "So when the shooter was about to shoot the man I love, I couldn't let that happen. Y-You don't just let the shooter shoot who you love. He doesn't love me as much, so I forgave him for that, but it didn't matter to me because I really love him and I can't have him die. If he dies, I die inside. I knew that if he wasted all his bullets on me, he would have no more, and Jackson had time to think of a plan t-to get Mr. Clark out of the O.R." I rambled, putting a hand near my lip.

"Okay." He mumbled quietly, taking out a form quickly, but I didn't notice until he signed it.

"I j-just think that I have P.T.S.D. but so does everyone else, and if Lexie can get over it just like that, th-then I can too." I whispered and looked up from the table. "I can't believe I just spoke to you about that." I gasped. Perkins grinned.

"Well, it got you out of counselling, so you have to thank yourself." He handed me the sheet, and I spent no more time in the conference room with that trauma counselor that annoyed me over the past three weeks. I ran up to the Neuro floor, happy that I got out of counseling, and happy that my leg had healed so much that I could run.

"Derek!" I yelled.

"Kylie." He turned around. I held up the yellow paper like it was a trophy from the championships.

"You got cleared?" He asked. "How?"

"Haha!" I smiled.

"Fine. You can do the surgery." Derek sighed. I froze. Do I really want to do that surgery? I don't know if I can walk into that O.R. where Own and I got shot, and where my big brother was being operated on. "Take these charts and read them over." Derek passed them to me, but I passed them back.

"Actually, I don't really feel up for that surgery." I maintained my earlier upbeat expression.

"Why? Didn't Perkins clear you for surgery?" He asked. I hesitated before answering, and he managed to ask, "Are you sure you're okay?"