Chapter Text
Dana had been working as a nurse at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center for over thirty years. Many of those years were as head charge nurse for the day shift. There had been a lot of bad days. None as bad as this one though. After getting punched in the face she should’ve gone home. She had practically forced Dr. Heather Collins to go home after her miscarriage, after all. But Dana had always been better at taking care of others than herself. It’s what made her a good mother, she thought, and an even better nurse.
Dana had started calling that day “the shift from hell” well before the Pittfest shooting, but that tragedy had cemented the title between her and her fellow nurses. Dana had gone home and barely had the energy to hose off the caked blood in her hair in the shower. She fell asleep on her bed before fully drying off. When she woke up late the next day the sight of her swollen face and black eyes in the mirror surprised her. She hadn’t had that much time to assess the damage other than when Heather made sure she got a face x-ray to rule out any intracranial fractures. They took care of each other, always had.
So when Dana looked at her phone the day after the shift from hell, she wasn’t shocked to find a couple of missed calls from Heather, MD and a text that read “you aren’t coming back are you”. Dana texted back “nope” and went into the kitchen to make some eggs and toast. She was starving.
As soon as the text was sent Dana’s phone rang. She knew who it was without looking at the caller id.
“Hey hon,” Dana answered, pouring day-old cold coffee from the pot into her cracked “world’s best mom” mug. It had been a Christmas present from her daughter years ago.
“Dana,” Heather said. “How are you doing?” she asked softly.
Dana scoffed. “Pretty bad. You?”
“Physically or emotionally?” Heather asked, ignoring Dana’s question.
“Emotionally. My face is fine. Though no facetimes with the grandkids any time soon; don’t want to scare them.” Dana answered. “I’ll be fine though. We’ve got another debrief for the mass casualty event soon and I’ve got a session with Caleb tomorrow.”
“Good,” Heather said. The line went quiet and Dana was about to ask how Heather was doing again when Heather broke the silence.
“I think I’m done too.”
Dana almost dropped her phone. “What?”
“With PTMC. I think I’m done.” Heather paused. “I want to go home,” she added softly.
“Okay,” Dana said. She was at a loss for words; a rare occurrence for her. She usually had a quip ready before someone finished their sentence, but now she sat in the weight of Heather’s statement. Yesterday had been hard for everyone, but it had been especially bad for Heather.
“I think I’m going to move back to Oregon; try to finish my residency there. Go back to researching adoption.” Heather continued.
Dana listened to her friend bite back tears, and she fought back her own. “That sounds nice dear.” Dana thought back to the two of them laying together in the rickety doctor’s cot. “I’ll miss you.”
The two of them were silent again for a couple of minutes, just sitting there together over the phone. Then Heather spoke. “You could come with me, you know,” she said bravely.
Dana laughed a little, she couldn’t help it. “Oh yeah? You sure you won’t get tired of this old lady?” She was barely in her fifties but Gloria had been hounding for her retirement for a while now. Even though Dana was exceptional at her job, burn out was real. Though until now Dana had thought herself immune to it. G-d sure had a sense of humor.
Dana twiddled with her cross necklace, a bad habit from her youth, while she waited for Heather’s answer to her self-deprecated deflection.
“I am serious.” Heather said. “If you are set on retiring, I want you to come with me.”
“Wow. I’m honored,” Dana said, not sure what else to say. To be honest she would love to but at first thought she was sure there was a catch. There always was. However, she trusted Heather completely, and no matter how crazy this idea sounded, she knew, deep down, that Heather meant it.
“We both need a break,” Heather said. “And I want to spend mine with you.”
The whole thing was terribly romantic, Dana thought. Whether Heather meant it to be, Dana would figure out eventually. Right now she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“You know what. Yeah,” Dana started. She was going to say “Fuck it!” but remembered that Heather didn’t like swearing. “I’ll go with you.”
“Great,” Heather exhaled. It sounded like she had been holding her breath, waiting for Dana’s answer. “That’s great,” Heather repeated.
Dana looked down at the stove where she was burning her eggs. “You hungry?” Dana changed the subject. “Wanna go get brunch? I know a diner that’s between yours and mine.”
“Sure. I’d love that,” Heather answered. “See you soon?”
“Yeah. See you soon honey,” Dana said, ending the call. She turned off the stove and texted Heather the address to the diner. She poured out her barely touched, still cold coffee, and threw away the inedible eggs.
She quickly put on comfy yet presentable clothes and grabbed a Pitt Panthers women basketball hat with her sunglasses. She didn’t have the energy to put on any makeup over her bruises, not that she really had makeup around in her house. Heather would want to see how they were healing anyway. Dana thought briefly about smoking a cigarette before she left to calm the butterflies in her stomach, but she thought against it. She really was trying to quit plus she didn’t want to smell like an ashtray for Heather. Dana put on her big carhartt jacket and got into her car.
Who knew if they would talk about the logistics of moving cross-country together, Dana thought as she drove to the diner. They’d have time later to iron out the specifics at a later date. For now Dana just wanted to sit in a sticky diner drinking too hot coffee with Heather. That was more than enough.