Chapter Text
"Victoria, why aren't you answering my texts?" Her tone was thin and stern. She was pissed.
Javadi crossed her arms. "What are you doing here, Mom?"
"Your father and I have been ready to go home for almost an hour. It's time to leave."
"I'm not finished with my work yet, Mom."
"I'm sure these cowboys can handle it. Come home, you need your sleep. You're better than this."
"'Better than this?' Seriously? And since when have you cared about how much sleep I get? No, actually, when have you ever cared about me in general? You're so fixated on having a doctor for a child that you never even thought to ask me if this is what I want!"
"Of course this is what you want. you've wanted to be a doctor since you were five years old. Now stop with this nonsense—you're embarrassing yourself."
"People change, Mom! I was five! I also wanted to be a mermaid when I was that age! But you forced me to go to med school—you didn't even give me the chance to have a complete childhood! Look at me: I'm 21, I've got no friends, no boyfriend, no hobbies, nothing! Just flashcards, and burnout, and two parents who don't even know me. I don't even know me! You never gave me the chance to find out! You are so controlling—"
"—Victoria—"
"—Just fuck off, Mom!"
The room was eerily silent, except for her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Her parents remained motionless for so long, Javadi started to think she'd somehow managed to stop time.
Finally, her mother spoke. "Well. We'll be at home for when you come to your senses and are ready to apologize for this ridiculous outburst." She turned and walked away. Javadi's dad stood there for a minute, looking sadly at the floor.
"Dad?"
He said nothing.
"Are you gonna say anything?"
More silence.
He looked up, but not quite at her. "I hope you'll come home. You know how she is… Maybe you could apologize… speaking to your mother like that. And in front of your coworkers…"
Javadi's blood boiled. Of course he took her side. Of course Victoria was the one who needed to apologize. She'd had enough.
"Just go, Dad. I'm not apologizing, and I'm not coming home. You can both leave me the fuck alone."
Her dad paused at this, then turned and left without another word.
Javadi hadn't noticed it, but she was holding her breath. She sighed, taking in as much air as she could and breathing out every last molecule bit of it until it hurt. Tears pricked her eyes—angry tears. She blinked them away. She stood for a second, not really sure what to do.
Javadi realized that she didn't really want to be almost-crying in front of the entire emergency department, so she turned and hurried to the staff room, closing the door behind her. Thank goodness it was empty.
She leaned against the wall, letting gravity pull her to the floor. As she sank, the tears came in earnest. She sobbed into her hands: horrible, convulsing sobs, it made her feel a bit like throwing up.
A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Shit. But there was no point in trying to dry her face; her hoodie sleeves were soaked in tears.
The door opened with a quiet creak.
"Crash?"
She sniffed. "Santos?"
"Hey. Huckleberry's here, too."
"You doing okay?" Whitaker's soft voice asked from above.
"…No." With the admission came another wave of sobs. She'd never felt like this before. It was awful.
She felt Santos and Whitaker sit on either side of her. Santos's arm tentatively wrapped around Javadi's shoulders, gently pulling her towards comfort. Javadi let her, leaning into Santos's sternum. She smelled like oranges.
Whitaker's hand appeared gently on her arm.
She let them comfort her. It was strange—she'd never been held like this—never had friends who cared enough to want to hold her. Friends. Yeah, I guess that's what we are now.
—
It felt like years before there were no more tears, and her sobs came out choked and dry. They had held her the whole time, not speaking, letting her feel and process everything in her own time.
When the sobbing stopped and her breathing slowed, Javadi reluctantly leaned away from Santos. She felt the other woman's arm gently rub her back for a few seconds, then return to her side. Now that she was out of the depths of despair, Javadi noticed that their hands were close to touching. Not that she was actually paying attention to that kind of thing. Just an observation.
Whitaker was the first one who spoke. "How are you feeling?" His voice was soft.
"Thirsty," she said. Her mouth was so dry and the word came out strained and hoarse.
Without another word, Whitaker got up and returned shortly with a little paper cup of water from the cooler.
"Thanks," she said, taking the cup from him and swallowing one sip and swishing the second in her mouth as she came back to her body.
Javadi wasn't sure what to do now. She'd just told her parents she wouldn't be coming home—told them to fuck off. She couldn't believe she said that.
"You know, Crash… the offer's still on the table. Since, you know, you sorta told your parents to fuck off and everything."
"Can't believe you swore, Javadi."
"It was awesome."
"Was that the first time you said 'fuck?'"
Javadi laughed. It felt good. "Yes and yes."
She turned to Santos. "And yeah… I'd like that. Thank you."
"Cool. But hey, until Huckleberry moves his shit to Robby's you'll have to sleep on the couch. Or, you can sleep in my bed, if you want."
"Oh, that's not—I'll sleep on the couch. Thanks." She blushed.
Whitaker spoke up. "Good call—Santos snores."
"I do not!"
"Oh yes, you do! That one time we were out drinking—we got home and you crashed on the couch—it was so loud."
Santos reached across Javadi and jovially punched Whitaker in the leg.
"Ow!" He pouted, rubbing the spot on his thigh with mock pain. He turned to Javadi with a smile. "Are you sure you wanna live with Santos? This is what you'll have to put up with."
"Oh, I only do that to you, Fuckleberry."
Whitaker gasped and clutched at imaginary pearls. Santos laughed.
Watching them banter like this, Javadi felt almost at home. More comfort than she'd ever felt at her own house—her parents' house. She had to get used to the fact that it wasn't hers anymore. She didn't want it to be hers anyway. Now that Javadi thought about it, she had never really felt at home there. It had always been a source of anxiety and she was always walking on eggshells around her parents. A constant reminder of how she was simultaneously too much and never enough. And she was done with it.
The tone of the room mellowed after a few minutes of silence.
"Do you want to stay in here until the scanning is done?" Whitaker asked, gently. "We can come get you when we're about ready to leave, if you want."
"Um… yeah," She rubbed the back of her neck. "Thanks. I don't really want to see anyone. After… all that."
—
When Whitaker and Santos left the break room to go back to charting, Javadi felt lighter than she had when she came in. Somehow, despite everything, there were two people who really cared.
Javadi sat, knees to her chest, until her legs fell asleep. Then she paced around the breakroom, trying to get the feeling back, and thought through everything that had happened. Her mind wandered to her childhood—she kept finding new things that didn't sit well with her. Random memories about the way her parents handled seemingly average situations: the way they were disappointed when she got mediocre marks on a test, when her mom yelled at her for being on her phone instead of studying. Things that, the more she thought about it, probably would've been handled very differently if her parents weren't the way that they are.
—
As the hour wore onwards, her mind spun and spun and twisted into knots. Each memory was more painfully revealing than the last. Finally, Whitaker and Santos returned.
"I talked to Dr. Al-Hashimi. She said you should take a few days off to get settled in." Santos had taken her hair down, and she absentmindedly pushed it behind her ear.
Javadi's face felt warm. "Oh, no, that's not necessary—"
"Uh uh." Santos put her hand up. "This isn't a negotiation. You're taking the days off."
Javadi crossed her arms. She wanted to protest, but arguing with Santos never went well for her.
"Come on," Whitaker said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Let's get our stuff and get the fuck out of here."
And for the first time, Javadi was excited to leave.