#lasting lover

Release: September 4, 2020

Lyrics:

I don't know why

I can't quite get you out my sight

You're always just behind

You're stored across my mind

Keep crawling back

To where we last

Left our love on hold

I'm always out for more

So what you waiting for?

Wait, before you burn me to the ground

Please stay 'til the beat of our heart runs out

I don't wanna let go, let go

'Cause I've been tryna

Hold on for so long

I feel like I'm lost without a trace

Take my heart and run away

She said, "I've been looking for a lasting lover"

She said, "I've been looking for a lasting lover"

To save me, save me

From every single

Heartache, heartache

I feel like I'm lost without a trace

Take my heart and run away

She said, "I've been looking for a lasting lover"

One by one and

Two by twice

I've watched all my loves

Move on to something more

Open out the door

Caught in between every passing hour

Oh, please stay 'til the taste of your love turns sour

I don't wanna let go, let go

'Cause I've been tryna

Hold on for so long

I feel like I'm lost without a trace

Take my heart and run away

She said, "I've been looking for a lasting lover"

To save me, save me

From every single

Heartache, heartache

I feel like I'm lost without a trace

Take my heart and run away

She said, "I've been looking for a lover"

So let me know

Did we ever mean anything at all?

So let me know

Did we ever mean anything at all?

I feel like I'm lost without a trace

Take my heart and run away

She said, "Didn't hurt me"

Ooh, I feel like I'm lost without a trace

Take my heart and run away

She said, "I've been looking for a lasting lover"

Songwriter:

I've been looking for a lasting lover

Oh, and I've been looking for a lasting lover

Andrew Van Wyngarden / Benjamin Goldwasser / Bruce Fielder / Corey James Sanders / James Arthur / Lewis Capaldi / Luke Fitton

SongFacts:

"Lasting Lover" is a song by British DJ Sigala and British singer and songwriter James Arthur. It was also written by Scottish singer-songwriter Lewis Capaldi, best known for his hit song “Someone You Loved.” It was released on September 4, 2020 by Ministry of Sound to digital retailers and streaming platforms. The song interpolates “Time to Pretend” by indie pop and rock band MGMT. It reached number 10 on the UK Singles Chart and the top 10 on the US Dance/Electronic Songs Chart.

She had spent her three days off hunting for a new place to live, finding a decent apartment on the bus line. Thankfully, Jack resisted sleeping; she had managed to drag him to help her tour before final approval. The ability to have an apartment secured next month made her feel lighter. Only a few more weeks, and she wouldn't be living out of a damn hotel. Both Jack and Robby had offered their place, but she hated to impose and loved having a space for herself.

A new day in the ED; she had tried to start the day off on a positive note. She knew the mood would tank through the shift, but she figured it was worth a try.

Robby was off for the day, but she fully suspected he would pop in at random. Hopefully, he was teaching today and actually keeping busy.

She did hand off with Shen, going through rotations before sending all the residents and students off for their assignments.

Dana had the phone to her ear, listening before she turned to Sammy as she approached. "Trauma incoming, crush injury."

"Cool," Sammy said, looking around and spotting Javadi sitting at the desk. "Hey, why don't you hop in?"

The younger woman looked up, shocked, "uh- me?"

"Yeah, you," Sammy smiled. "Common, it'll be fun,"

Javadi moved away from the computer, fixing her hoodie as she moved around the hub to join. "You and I have a different definition of fun."

The patient was wheeled into trauma one. A beautiful dance as everyone worked in sync. Every so often, Sammy asked Javadi questions to test her knowledge, giving the younger woman a smile every time. Vermont hadn't been a teaching hospital, but she remembered what it had felt like to have questions thrown her way when she was working.

"Princess, can you page Garcia?"

"On it," Princess responded. Sammy nodded as they continued to work. X-ray was taken. Crush injury for sure. Fucking hell. Princess huffed, hanging the phone up. "She's in the OR."

"Shit," Sammy looked at the patient's leg, concerned. It shouldn't wait. She couldn't let it. The longer they waited, the more dangerous it would be. "Call Ortho, it's a crush injury."

Princess nodded. Sammy tried to ignore Princess chatting to whoever was on the phone while she focused on keeping the patient stable. Ten minutes later, a younger man entered the room, looking fresh as a daisy.

Oh no. Sammy sighed. They sent her a fucking intern.

"Hi,"

"Hi, ma'am."

"You're the ortho consult?"

"Yes, ma'am." This kid was scrawny and tall, looking nervous. Sammy could see his hand shaking. "Uh, let's look at it."

Sammy nodded in affirmation, waiting and watching the intern as he looked at the leg. Sammy couldn't help but shoot a look at Javadi, who looked just as confused and shocked.

"What do you think?" Sammy asked, turning back to the intern. Did Brendon do this on purpose? She swore she was going to kill him.

"I'm going to send pictures-"

"No." Sammy couldn't stop herself from saying it, shaking her head. She almost felt bad about how high the intern jumped. "Absolutely not." Sammy wanted to scream. Brendon should be here himself, not sending students to her unprepared. "Who's your attending?"

"Dr Park, ma'am."

Oh yeah, he fucking did it on purpose. Petty asshole. "Go back to Dr Park and inform him he needs to get his ass down here."

"I-I can't, ma'am."

The intern looked ready to cry. That was why Brendon sent him, Sammy realized. He was annoying. Well, guess what, jerk.

"You can and you will." She said firmly, "Tell him Dr Jackson says he's to get his ass down here, or I will come up there and drag his ass down here myself." She studied the intern, "Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes, ma'am." The man scurried; Sammy had to admit he moved fast. She was slightly impressed.

"Javadi, you probably won't want to be here for this," She gave the younger woman a smile. "Everyone might want to run for the hills," Sammy added to the room.

"I don't think so," Javadi responded, her eyes wide before she escaped out the door. Sammy waited; she knew it wouldn't be long unless he was in surgery. Ensuring the patient remained stable as she waited. Sure enough, ten minutes passed, and suddenly the air shifted. The nurses were out of the room so fast she felt like she had blinked and they were gone. She caught Princess's eye, who looked worried, but Sammy just gave a nod.

"You can't order around my interns, Jackson." Brendon's voice cut through the room.

"I can and I will," Sammy shot back. "Sending an intern who doesn't know shit and who isn't prepared." She moved to meet him, staring him down. Refusing to look away even as he towered over her. "I'm not calling for nothing. Show me some respect."

"He should know what he's doing."

"You should ensure he's prepared."

She wasn't sure how long they stood there, glaring at each other. Anger on his face. A type of anger that Sammy was so used to. Both of them breathed heavily, trying to regulate themselves. She didn't miss the way his eyes flicked to her lips. She almost pointed it out. She knew that fucking look. Many arguments like this had occurred, often petty, and ended with them pressed against each other.

He seemed to be thinking the same thing because as soon as the look was there, it passed. He stepped back, as if he remembered he was at work and a professional.

"I'm here now,"

Sammy nodded, moving aside to allow him to approach the patient. Answering his questions as he examined them.

The door opened not long after, Garcia entering casually, "Got tied up." Sammy wanted to roll her eyes. Everyone didn't want to impose on this man's time. Money maker indeed.

"I'm here already," Brendon replied casually. Finally, he stood up, looking at Sammy. "We will take them up. I'll get the OR prepped."

Sammy nodded, looking back at him. She wanted to touch him, the memories of late nights, kisses, and being tangled in the sheets. Sammy fucking missed him, and it was hard to pretend she hadn't. He was looking at her in a way that made her know she knew he was thinking it too.

"Thank you," She said, as she maintained eye contact.

"Don't thank me," he replied. He nodded to Garcia, and moving towards the trauma door, calling for support as they moved the gurneys' handles. He was out the door, without so much as a look back, as the patient was being prepared for transport.

"What was that about?" Princess asked, confused as she worked.

Sammy loved the chaos of the Pitt. Sure, it was overwhelming at the best of times, but there was something about it that Sammy couldn't help but love. She enjoyed how everyone moved around each other. Divide and conquer everything. Compared to surgery all those years ago, emergency medicine felt like freedom.

Plus, everyone on the floor was great.

Being a flux had made her schedule slightly confusing, but nothing she couldn't handle, and the first week had been welcoming so far.

She had been charting when Dana let her know a trauma was rolling in. Shit, the only downside of this career was the charting. She confirmed with Dana that she was taking the incoming trauma, claiming Whitaker, who was nearby, as the patient was being wheeled in. Getting the information as they collectively worked to move the patient over.

This was the best part about emergency medicine. All hands working together, she knew it looked like chaos, but to her, it never felt that way. Everyone had a purpose in the room. Like a choreographed dance where everyone had to know their part.

A leg detachment. Whitaker was in charge of preparing and preserving the leg as Sammy worked to stabilize the patient.

"What do we have?" Garcia asked as she entered, slipping on her gloves .

Sammy gave her an acknowledging nod, "waiting to get X-ray set up, leg is being preserved. I'm thinking it could be a great chance at replantation." She continued to give Garcia the patient's information.

"Good call, we'll call Ortho once we get the x-ray, no point bothering them before we have to," Garcia said. So they got to work, with the X-ray set up and taken. Both women looked at the results. "I think we're a go," Garcia said, turning to Jesse. "Let's give Ortho a call."

"Do we have to?" Sammy heard Whitaker mutter under his breath, making her turn in confusion.

"Why? What's wrong with Ortho?" Sammy asked conversationally as she moved back beside the patient. Garcia made a sound but said nothing else, and Whitaker shook his head as if to say that if he said anything, it would unleash a curse. The room went suspiciously quiet as Jesse dialed. Everyone listened as he explained the consult. Finally, he hung up the phone, looking unbothered.

"They're on the way down."

Sammy sighed with relief. Good, that was good. At her last job, she often had to fight surgery; at least when it actually mattered, they were willing to come down. They were taking things seriously. But she noticed Garcia and Whitaker both froze. Everyone seemed to have that moment of unease as they waited. Sammy wanted to ask again, but it seemed like the conversation was taboo.

But suddenly the room seemed to go still. Like everyone stopped as the door opened. She looked up from what she was doing.

She got it now.

She froze as Brendon Park came through the door, confidence radiating off of him like he owned the damn hospital. Everyone's eyes were on him like he owned the place. His hair gelled back like a fucking asshole.

Fuck.

Her heart sped up. He was moving through the room, and he hadn't noticed her yet. Was there a way to disappear into the ground? His eyes focused on Garcia as he asked her questions. Sammy couldn't even comprehend what was being said; everyone sounded like the adults from Charlie Brown.

She hadn't seen this man in ten fucking years. She thought she had moved on. Seeing him now, the authority he held with the same stern face she remembered all too well. Sammy wanted to fucking cry. Why hadn't he moved on to work somewhere else?

Thankfully, Garcia seemed to be taking the brunt of his focus, but she hadn't missed the way Garcia had sent her a glare mixed with confusion. Sammy couldn't help but shake her head. She was stuck. She wanted to escape this room, so fucking fast. As if leaving the room, she could avoid him in any sense.

But then his attention turned to her. Their eyes met.

As soon as his eyes caught hers, it was gone. Continuing as if this were a normal situation. Just two exes who never expected to see each other again, working together, totally fine. No big deal, as she dies inside. He continued unbothered, the fucking asshole, asking questions, looking at the leg like it's a damn puzzle. Garcia took over, answering his questions.

Finally, he confirmed surgery was a go, giving instructions before he was on his way out, with a level of confidence and swagger Sammy had always been jealous of. She caught his eye again, but all she found was dead and expressionless. Like he was seeing through her. The expression haunted her as he left the room. Instantly, as the door closed behind him, it was like the air in the room returned. Everyone took a collective breath.

"That could have been way worse," Garcia said, giving Sammy a glare. "What the fuck was that?"

"I know, I'm sorry, I appreciate you stepping up," Sammy said, shaking her head in her own disappointment. He had distracted her. Kept her from the thing that mattered, the patient.

"I'll be back in time to help with the move," Garcia gave a nod, coldness in her demeanor as she headed out the door. Sammy swore under her breath. She didn't need to be pissing off all the surgeons in the building so damn early.

"Hey," Whitaker said as Garcia was gone, "I'm sorry I wasn't as helpful either."

"You were fine," Sammy tried to give Whitaker a smile. It was no one's fault but her own. She had frozen. And it was no one's fault that they found Brendon intimidating; it had always been the way. He had always been intense. Fucking goes to show that he chose not to acknowledge her at all. So she was dead to him. Lovely. She supposed it was to be expected. "Is everyone scared of him?"

"Park the Shark," Whitaker shook his head, "He's known for snapping at people, especially if you're new or if you talk too much."

Sammy bit the inside of her cheek. Sounds like Brendon. But something inside of her wanted to say he wasn't that bad. Really, he could be the sweetest man you've ever met, and he just cared so much about his job that he often thought people weren't trying hard enough.

Including her. Remembering how they had left things and how he looked at her now, she suspected he thought she was part of that 'not caring' group, too. It had caused their whole problem in the first place.

He hated her.

So all Sammy could do was nod, stripping off her gloves. "Finish up, keep monitoring. Call me if you need me, or when Ortho is ready to move them up."

Whitaker confirmed, allowing her to push the door open. She needed a damn second. She spedwalk towards the ambulance bay. Breaths escaping her as the fresh air hit. Closing her eyes to enjoy the sun on her skin.

Her assumption had been wrong; she had figured he'd have moved on. Far away from this place, making millions in private practice. Instead, he was fucking here. Now she was here. What could she even do about it? She'd just signed the damn contract.

She was going to fucking kill Robby.

Heading back into the Pitt, now on a mission to find the man. She found him sitting at the computer, his glasses low on his nose as he typed. She moved, wacking his arm quickly.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" she huffed as his sound of protest came, she grabbed a chair at another desk and moved it beside him, plopping down. "Robby, fucking honestly."

"What did I do?" he had the audacity to seem confused, but not enough care to actually focus on her while he continued working.

"Park too? Dana, Shamsi, AND Park?" Sammy rolled her eyes at him. "When I asked you who was still here, all you said was Jack!"

"I'm sorry," Robby rested his head on his hand, finally looking at her, exasperated. "I didn't know I was supposed to list off everyone in the entire building."

"A heads up would be nice,"

But Robby was looking at her, confused, "I didn't know you knew each other that well?"

Shit. Sammy froze, then quickly stood, pushed the chair back, and grabbed a tablet. Fuck. "We crossed paths during my year."

"Was he rough?" Robby's eyebrows raised, watching her. "I heard he came down for a consult."

"No," Sammy bit her lip, maybe she had answered too fast. She would never call Brendon rough. Abrupt? yes. Driven? absolutely. Blunt? For sure. But never rough. "He mostly just ignored me."

"Usually he warms up after a bit, just don't add mindless chatter," Robby gave her a quick reassuring smile before returning to his screen. "He's the hospital's money maker, just be careful, don't bother him unless it's necessary, and you'll be fine."

Sammy nodded. "Thanks," she moved, preparing to claim the next patient in line. She moved away before turning back. She leaned closer to him as he continued to work. "Is there anyone else I should know about?"

He hummed in thought for a second, typing away. "Walsh?"

"Robby!" She couldn't help the annoyed sigh that escaped her. Shooting a glare as he smirked. "Honestly."

"Think of it like a fun game."

Sammy shook her head, "Fun for who?"

"Me," Robby gave her a rare full smile and a twinkle of joy in his eye. Fucking menace.

Fuck. Sammy hadn't planned for rain. She could settle for an Uber, but it felt like a waste of money. She stood just inside the door of chairs, watching the rain hit, trying to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to face. Buttoning her jean jacket up as best she could before pushing herself out into the shitty weather.

She stood outside, standing at the bus as the rain and wind whipped around. Dealing with poor decisions. Standing there, trying to see if there were any buses down the street. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed after a nice, long shower.

A black sports car revved down the road, making Sammy roll her eyes, people and their loud ass cars to annoy everyone around them. She frowned as the car slid up into the bus lane, coming to a stop in front of her. She frowned as she stared at the tinted windows of the car that sat there in front of her. Douchebag, she shook her head in disgust.

The window slowly lowered, allowing her to finally get a glimpse inside. She went to yell at the person to get out of the lane, finding the familiar face of Brendon seriously glaring at her.

"Get your ass in," he said, as they made eye contact.

The way he said it made her bristle. She glared at him, the way he said it as if he knew better, like she needed to do what he wanted. He thought he could tell her what to do? With that attitude, she would rather stand in the rain than get in.

"No," she said, crossing her arms. She tried to make it like she was pushing everything down, but she was cold, and her jacket was heavy.

His own annoyance flashed across his face as he looked at her. He watched her as she was being pelted by rain. He clearly looked like he thought she was the most ridiculous person he had met. Maybe he wasn't wrong.

"Get the fuck in," he called through the rain again. She looked down the street, still no bus in sight. She turned back to Brendon, who looked just as stubborn as she felt. She knew he'd refuse to move even if the bus did come.

Fuck it.

She moved, opening the stupid sports car door, in true sports car fashion, being the most annoying thing to climb into. She threw her bag at her feet. She slammed the door closed, and he wasted no time pulling out into traffic as if he owned the road, as she buckled herself in. "Your car is stupid, impractical, and something douchebags have."

"Anything else?" he asked in a steady voice, watching the road ahead of him. One hand on the steering wheel, looking too at ease.

"No," she huffed, pushing her wet hair out of her face and unbuttoning the waterlogged jean jacket that was weighing her down and sticking to her. Trying to get out of the damn thing with a few grunts, she succeeded, letting it plop at her feet. She then moved to turn her seat on and turn up the heat in the car.

Brendon might run hot, but she sure as hell didn't.

"Where are you staying now?" he asked as they paused at a red light. "Parents?"

"Hell no," she shook her head as she was still fiddling with the dials. "I got a new place."

He detached his phone from the stand and placed it in her lap, maps already loaded. "Address."

Sammy huffed, pushing her wet hair out of her face. She looked at him quickly, eyeing the way he was so at ease. Like their elevator conversation where she had aired what felt like the worst secrets hadn't happened, like he hadn't confessed to her he'd missed her. It felt like it had all those years ago, easy and comfortable, before everything had turned.

She turned away to take his phone and quickly typed the address in. "This isn't an invitation to pop over whenever you feel like it."

"Wouldn't even have thought about it," but he flashed her an annoyingly charming smirk that she hated and enjoyed. There had to be something wrong with her. She placed the device back on the holder for him.

"Of course now," she replied. The little liar he was. As if he wasn't the one who had scheduled most of the dates in their early years. Impromptu studying sessions had filled most of the first year of dating. It had been him who would get her home safely on the rare occasion they went out with other people. He had always made sure she was safe and fed. Loved.

They sat in silence; he hadn't even turned his music on like a psychopath. He usually had the music so loud that your eardrums vibrated, and she would turn it down with a glare. The ride to her place wasn't long, fifteen minutes or so. Her leg bounced the whole damn way. Every so often, she would look at him as he was there just existing peacefully, no awkwardness on his face. Like it was normal to drive your ex home.

She turned to look out the window as scenery passed by quickly, and the rain hit fast. Fuck. This somehow felt both off putting and normal.

But they hadn't talked since the elevator days ago. How was she supposed to pretend that he hadn't said he had missed her, or that she had confessed that feeling she had felt before she left him? Or the fact that she had outright admitted to missing him herself.

"I meant it, you know," she fidgeted in her seat, trying hard not to face him, keeping her eyes on the road. "What I said."

"The part where you called me a douchebag? Or the part where you called my car stupid and impractical." She could hear the humour in his voice, and she knew he was smiling, but she refused to look.

"All that too," but she felt nervous elaborating further. What was she supposed to say? That she felt like the breakup had been a mistake and that they could have worked it out differently? How she felt like he had loved her so much that he had damaged her beyond repair when it felt like the love was taken away? The entire time she was with Henry, she thought about how much she had missed him, but tried to go through the motions of life without him.

She could sense his gaze; every so often, he would look to her before returning to the road. He always knew when she needed time to gather herself. He pulled up to her building, parked the car, and waited for her.

"I do," she shook her head. She hated being vulnerable. She felt the tears start to form. "I do miss you."

There was silence that followed. Just fucking silence as they sat in this horrible car with the engine humming. She finally took the chance, looking at him. But he was already looking at her with an expression she didn't know how to read.

"Me too," his voice was steady with a confidence that made her heart ache.

"Thank you for the ride."

"Sam," Robby said as she got to the hub where he was sitting, just as she was about to sit down to do some charting, catching her mid-sit. "Gloria wants to see you upstairs," he said as he stared at the computer with his glasses on.

"Why?"

"I don't know," he replied, and he didn't even bother to look up, rubbing the back of his neck. "They didn't give me details, just that if you could head up there."

"Great, real helpful Robinavitch,"

"Aim to please."

Sammy rolled her eyes at him. "ok, well, you gotta take over my patients then, North 2 can be discharged."

Robby indicated he had heard what she said, giving her a thumbs up as she was heading towards the elevator. Stepping in, she leaned against the back wall. hitting the 12th floor button and waiting as the doors closed. She was lost in thought as she watched the floors go up. Her mind had been blank when she was jarred back to reality as the elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and the last individual she wanted to see stepped in like a cruel fucking joke.

Brendon stepped in, hitting 7. Looking at her, his stoic expression on his face.

"Hi," Sammy said as they made eye contact. The elevator doors slid closed. He nodded his head in acknowledgment, going to the other end of the elevator with his arms crossed.

The elevator lurched as it began to move again. Sammy tried to focus on the floors again. Like she was holding her breath as they got to 6, so fucking close to being out of this space. The elevator rocked, screeched, and stopped. Sammy almost lost her footing as the elevator shook. A drop in her stomach as her system tried to catch up.

All movement halted.

"Shit," she heard Brendon say as he caught himself. "You ok?" he asked, quickly glancing at her as she managed to steady herself.

"Yeah, I'm ok," she watched him nod before he hit the help button.

A crackling speaker blared through the elevator, making Sammy wince. "Hello, you've pushed the emergency button."

"Yeah, cause it's an emergency," Brendon rolled his eyes. "We're stuck in the elevator, it's stuck on the 6th floor."

The person over the speaker began giving instructions to stay calm and relax; they're looking into it. Sammy, at this point, was too busy accepting her fate. She was stuck in a fucking elevator with her most serious boyfriend and her worst heartbreak she'd ever experienced. No big deal.

This was fine.

"How long? Some of us have patients," Brendon replied with irritation. His body was stiff and still.

"We don't know, sir. Just relax, and we will work on it." The static cut off, to Sammy's sigh of relief. The relief lasted for a moment as she realized that there was silence in an elevator with a very annoyed Brendon Park. The one thing about Brendon was that when he was annoyed, he did manage to let everyone know.

Perfect.

Five minutes passed while they stood in silence. Both arms crossed at either end of the elevator, while both of them refused to look at each other.

But the silence was killing her. Their past conversations rolled around in her brain. The way he had barely reacted before, the way he had looked at her with heat when they argued. The way she had lain at night, missing him.

Finally, the silence was too much. She knew he could stand in silence the entire time, but she knew she couldn't. She'd rather fight this man than deal with that stoic silence. When Brendon went silent, it always meant he had nothing to say or that he was furious. Somehow, both felt horrible.

Sammy bit the inside of her lip, looking over at him quickly as he remained facing the elevator before she turned back to face the front too. Suck up the pride and make this time and their work more bearable. If he would let them. "I'm sorry for getting upset at you," she continued when he didn't turn or respond. "You know, the other day."

He made a sound of disbelief, a sound she used to find charming. Used to, especially when it wasn't directed at her. "No, you're not."

"I am!" she defended, turning back to him with a glare. Why couldn't this man take a damn apology?

"Seemed personal."

Sammy froze. Had it been personal? She's not sure if she could answer that question clearly. It probably had been. It was probably why she did feel guilty. "I-" she swallowed, "I didn't mean it to be."

He nodded, but that was all he gave. The elevator filled with silence again. But Sammy's jaw clenched.

"You still shouldn't send interns when they're not prepared."

He still wouldn't look at her. "How else will they become prepared if they don't experience it head on?"

"Please, as much as it was personal for me, it was personal for you too!"

Again, he didn't acknowledge. Sammy could feel the anger rising. Clearly, this conversation was going nowhere. Great. Asshole.

She leaned against the wall of the elevator. Ten minutes passed in utter complete silence. She had resorted to chewing on her fingernail.

The silence was worse, far worse. What else could she say? Let's get into deep dark secrets? Hi, ran away from Pittsburgh because the breakup was so upsetting, and now it's a deep dark regret? Hell no. She tried not to look at him, and he seemed to be doing the same, except every so often she knew he would look at her, linger on her, and turn away.

"I'm glad you finished your residency," his voice rang out through the elevator, still not looking at her. Sammy wanted to laugh at that.

"Are you?" she asked with disbelief.

"Yeah," he looked at her, a scowl on his face. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing,"

"No," his voice clear as he turned to face her, his towering presence turned toward her. "We're not going anywhere fast. What the fuck do you mean, am I?"

"You just surprised me, is all."

But that answer seemed to make him more irritated. "What the fuck would surprise you about that?" He had moved himself halfway to her now, while he wasn't close, his presence was known.

Sammy couldn't look at him, though. The hurt from ten years ago was too busy bubbling in her. She guessed they were doing this. Maybe this was for the better. She could address it once and for all, move on, and then they would go to distant colleagues who interact only rarely. She wouldn't ask for his consult; she'd skip the elevators with him, and she'd just have to see Emery downstairs.

"You didn't believe I could finish in the first place," She said, trying to keep herself looking calm and collected, her arms crossed as she continued to lean, getting as much space away from him, not because he was intimidating, but she couldn't handle being too close for this conversation.

"What?" Brendon snapped, his eyes narrowed in anger. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sammy shook her head. She could feel the same heartbreak that had lingered there inside her the entire time she had been away. The feelings and pain she had carried since their breakup. "You thought I wasn't able to do anything."

"That's not true," his voice was sharp. "I wanted you to succeed."

"Please," Sammy scoffed, her eyes starting to hurt from trying to ignore the tears threatening to form. She turned away again, making sure she was facing forward. "You acted like I was incapable." Just as she finished the words, he made a sound to protest. She shook her head. "You were disappointed I went into emergency medicine, be honest."

He moved closer, his body within reach as his eyes seemed dark. Anger made his body tense. His voice went low. "Because you could have been a good surgeon," he replied, his teeth clenched tight. She was shocked she didn't hear them grind.

"Good, but not great," she countered. Fuck, tears were beginning to fall. She quickly tried to wipe them away.

"You gave up before you got into any real training,"

"And there it is, I didn't want to do the training," she shot back. She forced herself to look up at him, to make herself look in his eyes. "I love emergency medicine. I do it well. I'm needed there." Frustration coursed through her. She swears they had this argument before she took her things out of his place and all but left Pittsburgh. "I know you don't get it."

A few heartbeats of silence followed. Both of them were staring at each other like they were trying to figure out who the other person was. She refused to look away, watching as his eyes seemed to search hers before his body eased.

"I get it," he replied. "I get being good at something and it feeling good." With that, he moved away again, like he was purposefully pulling himself away from her. Putting distance between them. He returned to his spot across the elevator.

Sammy was at a loss for words. She almost wanted to call him back. But she wasn't sure what else to say. She knew he felt that way about orthopedics, so why had it been so hard to realize that feeling she had for emergency medicine? Like she had picked something lesser.

Sammy couldn't take any more as they fell back into silence. She might as well get everything out now. She'd already opened the door; maybe it was for the best. Close it once and for all.

"I needed you to believe in me," she said. She turned and watched as his body shifted.

"I did,"

Sammy shook her head. "I needed you to show it."

But Brendon didn't look at her, returning to his original crossed arm posture, facing the elevator doors.

Heartbeats passed this way, Sammy trying to calm herself as she felt like her heart was breaking all over again. Everything she had pushed down for so damn long was resurfacing, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

The longing to want him to understand her, but like he couldn't do it no matter what he did. The longing for him to pull her to him and hold her, tell her everything was ok, and it had all been a mistake. That this silence was the worst thing she had experienced, short of their breakup.

Silence.

She dropped her head, anything to avoid his presence, until he heard him swear under his breath. "I've missed you." His voice was steady and sure, as if he were recounting an obvious fact. He still wasn't facing her.

Sammy wanted to laugh. Fuck. She wanted to be in his arms again, where it had felt safe, and she had felt whole. They felt too far apart.

She took a shaky breath. "I've missed you, too."

Both of them remained at the far ends of the elevator. Neither looked at the other. Until finally, a groan sounded, the elevator began to move upward. Riding in silence before getting to the next floor.