Title: Why We Hate Wednesdays
Pairing: Est. Season Seven, Pre-Alex/Lucy
Summary: The news comes on a Wednesday.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners (like Shonda Rhimes and ABC). I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own Grey's Anatomy. I am merely a fan of the television show who has ideas for things that Shonda could do/could've done.
Author's Note: This is an Alternate Universe fanfic that happens before the C/A car accident wherein an old friend is brought back into Alex's life in an unexpected way. Please review if you read.
(1/1) WHY WE HATE WEDNESDAYS
The news comes on a Wednesday. Sun hides behind the slight clouds on one of the few bright days in Seattle. Outside, children skip around without their rain boots and umbrellas. Their laughter circles down the city drains, becoming nothing more than a slight ring to those inside of Seattle Grace Mercy West.
Callie hangs over the edge of the counter, her eyes trained on a different set of tiny humans. In little huddles, they brush doll hair and watch the television in the corner. Some of the more energetic ones play tag off to the side. Each one of them has a smile in place, shining brighter than even their small, bald heads.
A large, clunky body bumbles onto the counter beside her. She turns slightly, just enough to see the cock-sure smirk and almost nonexistent hair that represents Alex Karev. For a moment, his eyes are glazed at the sight of the kids before he glances at her. His eyes drift down towards her stomach. Or at least, she assumes it's her stomach and not the chest he knows is off limits. She just barely shows, just enough to deter those who might be noticing from asking if she's pregnant or just gaining a little weight. When he glances back up, he catches Callie's eye and shakes his head slightly.
Finally, he speaks. "You fought with Sloan and Robbins today? Did you ever stop to think how horrible the two of them act to me when they're grouchy?"
Callie rolls her eyes. She says, "You're right, Karev. I really should be considering how parenting decisions for my child will affect your life."
Alex throws his hands into the air. "That's all I ask."
Callie nudges him with her shoulder. She turns back to the kids. If he has something more to say, he'll say it.
He opens his mouth only to be cut off by the doors bursting open. Lexie Grey rushes through, a bundle of scrubs and hysteria - as per usual.
"Turn on the TV!" she screams. "Channel Forty-Two!"
Alex stares at her, unsure how to react. Lexie slams into the counter, fumbling wildly to find the remote. Her shaking hands make the task extremely difficult. In fact, her whole body shakes.
"What are you-"
"Now!" Lexie barks, finally finding it amongst the drawers. The children groan around the room as some Disney movie gets swept away. She flips channel by channel. Fifty-five, fifty-four, fifty-three….
Alex tries again, asking, "Lexipedia, what the hell is-"
"Just shut up and watch the screen!"
As the channel reaches forty-two, a near-balding man comes into view. He sits with a cup of coffee and papers. Just above his left shoulder is a small window playing some sort of video. The quality sucks; it's very grainy, dark, and extremely unstable. Captions stroll across the screen, updating faster than they can read. Bits of the information sink in and process, but that's all Alex needs.
Brutal attack caught on tape… young woman, early thirties… "Pick up" … assaulted inside new home… multiple stab wounds… "Pick up the phone" … left for dead… attempted calling help… hours before anyone found her… "Damnit, Alex, pick up the phone!"
"Oh, my God."
The news comes on a Wednesday.
Thank you for reading. Please leave me your thoughts. I could continue this if people want.