Log in

13 August 2009 @ 01:52 pm
My Someone Else's Life: Chapter 27  

Title: My Someone Else's Life
Author: talking_cookie (Tell Her This on fanfiction.net)
Rating: T for some bad language.
Genre:  Drama, Humor, Romance
Summary: Elliot's niece Alyssa is sent to stay with her aunt while her parents are out of the country, while JD and Elliot try taking their relationship slowly.  Please let me know what you think! :)
Status: WIP




I think the last time I was at a real church service was… I can’t remember the last time I was at a normal Sunday service. But really, this isn’t just a normal Sunday service. It’s Izzy’s Christening, and I’m her godfather.


I’m strangely nervous about this today. I didn’t think I would be, but at some moment it occurred to me that it’s a huge responsibility that Turk and Carla have put upon me by trusting me to be their daughter’s godfather. That scared me. Then it occurred to me how much responsibility I’m facing. Not that it hadn’t before, but that’s scary too. In fact, it’s paralysingly terrifying, and I think it always will be.

Since I’m godfather, I’m sitting at the front of the church with Turk. Carla, Izzy and Elliot are in the ‘waiting room’ so to speak (I can’t remember what it’s called), waiting for the point that they come into the main church.

”I hope Izzy’s settled,” Turk quietly says, as the minister continues his sermon. “She was being fussy before we left.”

Turk is obviously nervous too. Well, it is his little girl’s christening, after all. People always seem to say that the christening is one of the big events in a baby’s life, along with first words, first steps and first birthday. And the funny thing is, when Carla and Izzy and Elliot are walking in to the main church, I’m picturing this as the other way around. I’m seeing Carla as the godmother, and Elliot being the one carrying our baby up here to be christened. In the same moment, I see Elliot walking down the aisle in a clean white wedding dress. You know, the future is looking good.

Izzy looks really beautiful in her christening dress. Like a little angel. She’s grinning at the attention, but like the other day at the meeting, she’s itching to get away from Carla and run around. The more she wriggles, the more difficult it is for Carla to keep a hold of her.

With a roll of her eyes, Carla puts Izzy’s feet on the ground and the little girl takes off immediately. Izzy’s smart though, because she’ doesn’t run far. She just runs to where Elliot is sitting and looks up at her curiously. Elliot pulls a funny face which makes Izzy laugh loudly, disturbing the peace of the church.

”Well,” the minister says, looking down at Izzy. “I see that someone has cheered up.”

The congregation laugh (they all heard Izzy screaming earlier too), and the minister continues delivering his service.

Izzy is still laughing at Elliot’s funny faces when she raises her arms, asking to be picked up. When Elliot does pick Izzy up and sit her on her knee, Izzy sits there quite contented and calmly.

”You’re a strange little girl, aren’t you Iz?” Elliot says to her, while looking at Carla and Turk, who are both shaking their heads and laughing.

Another hymn is sung, and the minister speaks some more, but that’s not really what I’m paying attention to. I’m watching Elliot somehow manage to occupy Izzy. Elliot bounces her on her knee just slightly and looking down at her every few minutes to see how she is. Each time, Izzy tries to grab one of Elliot’s long blonde curls. I wonder for a second whether our child will have be dark haired like me or have Elliot’s blonde hair.

The minister calls upon the four of us (and Izzy) to stand up. At this point, Elliot hands Izzy back to Carla, who then hands Izzy over to the minister.

He speaks about how children are loved and cherished, and how they need the love and support of families in order to grow happily. Then he talks for a while about the miracle of life.

For all the time the minister is talking, Izzy remains completely calm. She grins as she looks out over the church. I glance at Turk and Carla, who are looking at Izzy so proudly, and I think I can even see a few little tears in their eyes. Happy tears, obviously.

The minister then asks Turk and Carla if they promise to teach Isabella right from wrong, to love her and to raise her right. Turk and Carla (for lack of a better word) agree.

The thing is, everybody in here who knows Turk and Carla already knows that they’re brilliant parents to Izzy. She’s their world. And I know that if I was going to trust anybody with my own child, it would be Turk and Carla.

Then the minister speaks to Elliot and me. He asks us if we will help Turk and Carla to teach Izzy the right way.

I don’t really need to tell you what our answer to that is. Turk and Carla aren’t just friends, they’re family. I know them more than I know my blood family. Between the four of us we’ve been through so much together. We’ve basically grown up together. The funny thing is, whenever I try looking into the future, I see Turk, Carla and Izzy there too.

A few more hymns are sung after Izzy is officially christened (complete with the cold Holy Water poured over her head which did not amuse Izzy). At the end of the service, people start filing out of the church.

I glance to Elliot, who is now rummaging through her bag for something.

”What are you looking for?” I ask her quietly.

Out of her bag, Elliot pulls a pack of tissues and hands them to Carla. “Here,” she says. “You could use them.”

”Thanks, Elliot,” Carla responds.

After that, hugs are exchanged between the four of us.

”So you guys are coming to the hall and then back to ours, right?”

We both nod. As we follow them out of the door, I hear Carla say to Turk, “Remind me to get some photos of Izzy in her christening dress with JD and Elliot.”

Alyssa This is how sad my life is. I actually left the christening – a social event – early to study. That’s how pathetic life is right now. Exams… suck. That’s really all I’ve got to say on that.


Although studying isn’t so bad when you have company. Since we’re sitting nearly all the same exams, Kate comes here to study to I go to her house. Kate is here right now.

I’m so glad top get out of my christening outfit. For starters, I’m not really a dressy kind of girl. And secondly, my feet were killing me in those shoes. They were wedge heels I borrowed from aunt because she’d hardly worn them, and for the record, I will never wear them again. I’ve re-banished them to the back of the closet. The closet that is packed full of crap that was chucked in there from when someone was coming to look at the apartment. Apparently they want to rent it or something.

Back at the kitchen table, I notice that in the time it’s taken me to get changed and find a space somewhere – anywhere – in the closet for those damn shoes, Kate has managed to get all the textbooks and paper and pens and everything else studious sorted.

”Wow. You’re organised,” I say, taking a seat at the table.

”Yeah, well,” Kate shrugs. “So I thought we’d start with biology revision before going on to maths. Is that cool with you?”

”Yeah. For maths could we go over all those equations we did last week because I did not get those.”

”Yeah. And do you have –“

The conversation is interrupted by and almighty clatter and crash, coming from my aunt and JD’s room. For some reason, Kate and I seem to stare in the direction of the sound.

”What in holy hell was that?” Kate asks.

”I have no idea.” I blink.

After I go through to my aunt’s room, I discover that somehow or other, the wardrobes have managed to empty themselves. Like… everything has fallen out of them to create a jumble of the junk that my aunt and JD were trying to hide in the first place.

”Houston,” I derisively say, “we have a problem.”

Kate walks over to me, with a curious but apprehensive look on her face. “What is it?” Then she glances down at the mess on the floor. “Oh.”

”Yeah.” I nod slowly, and I’m just looking down at all the crap on the floor. I’m having one of those moments where I can’t believe that I’m going to have to clear this all up. I’m just delaying the inevitable, really. ”Help me clear all this up,” I say quickly to Kate, before I begin chucking everything back in the closet in no particular order or fashion.

Kate’s looking at me with a really sarcastic and perplexed look on her face. ”Uh… I think that’s sort of how this problem occurred in the first place.”

”Yeah,” I sigh. “But I have absolutely no idea where any of this crap really goes.”

Kate nods her head. “Fair enough.” She then begins to help me by throwing things in to the closet too.

Although it probably isn’t the best way of doing this, it seems to be the quickest. A few minutes later, and nearly everything is back in the closet, where it should be.

Well, sort of.

I pick up another bundle, but it’s really more than I can keep a hold of. I go to toss the bundle into the closet, but as I do a few things fall from it. I kneel down to see what I’ve dropped. An old sweater, socks and… that’s weird. I find a little silver box, like a jewellery box. I know they say that curiosity killed the cat, but I am neither a cat, nor do I think that curiosity will really kill me. I open the lid of the jewellery box to see -

”Oh, my god.”


I stand up. ”I think I just found something that I don’t think anybody was supposed to.”

Kate looks at the ring box that I’m holding up. “No kidding!”

”You know how you get those moments in life where you want to squee like a little fangirl?”

”Let me guess,” Kate says. “This is one of them?”

”Correct. Okay, so I need to hide this again…”


After the Christening and the little reception after it, Elliot and I go back to Turk and Carla’s. After all the attention and excitement of today, Izzy is shattered, so Carla is putting her down to sleep. Turk and I are in the living room, while Elliot is raiding Turk and Carla’s kitchen, looking for food.

”Izzy did really well today,” I say. “I would’ve expected her to get cranky towards the end of the day or I thought she might have cried when the minister was putting the water over her.”

”Yeah,” Turk grins. “They always find a way to surprise you.” He then looks directly at me. “You’ll learn.”

The sound of footsteps enters the living room. I turn my head and see Elliot walking back into the living room, carrying a large bag of potato chips.

”Mind if I tear into these?” She asks Turk.

”Knock yourself out,” Turk answers.

As if by coincidence, just as Elliot sits down next to me and opens the bag of chips, Carla returns to the living room, carrying a large box. “That’s Izzy down.”

Through a mouthful of salt and vinegar, Elliot asks the obvious question: “What’s in the box?”

Carla raises an eyebrow. “Elliot, would you please do me just one favour?”

”What’s that?” Elliot says after gulping down her chips.

Please teach your child not to talk with their mouth full,” Carla says. “Anyway, I was clearing things out the other day and I came across all these old photos and I thought you might want to take a look.” She hands an album each to Elliot and me.

I open the album I’ve been given. There are many photos from different occasions from our younger years. I recognise many of the photos of Turk and me from our college years, and then our med school years. And some more of the photographs – the ones that have Elliot and Carla in them too – I recognise from our intern year.

I’m still flicking through the photos when I come across a photo of just Elliot and me. It’s from our intern year; probably only a few weeks after we first met. We’re in our scrubs, so we must have just been at work. We’re sitting on a grassy field somewhere, looking up at the camera. Elliot’s hair is thick and straight, and I still have that goofy deer-in-headlights look on me face. We look so young.

It’s strange. I’ve seen all of these photos before and I remember when they were taken, but they seem like a million years ago. I know that all of us aren’t the same people that were in those photos. The people in those photos were just kids. It seems like so long between where we were and where we all are now.

”Doesn’t it seem a lot longer since these photos were taken than it actually was?”

Apparently Turk is a mind reader.

Elliot sighs heavily. “God, yeah. You know, we were tidying up last week too and I came across this photo album I had from med school and it was so strange looking through it. Back then I thought I’d be in medicine forever and here I am, leaving in a month.”

Carla’s eyes widen in shock. “It’s that soon? God.”

Elliot nods. “Yeah.”

”It’s going to be so weird you not being around the hospital every day,” Turk adds. “Hey, do you remember that time we had to deal with those identical twins. We lost the letter their dad left them, so we spent so long making a fake one.”

Elliot starts laughing. “Find a woman to find a man so that he might find you a woman. Carla, remember that time we spread the rumour that that new nurse was really a dude.”

After a minute of discussing past rumours they spread, and realising how bitchy it made them sound, Carla sighs. “Who am I going to spread rumours with when you leave? Who am I going to gossip with?”

”Oh, don’t talk like that. You’ll make me cry. And we can still gossip. You can call me any time. It’s not like I’m dying; I’m just giving up work.”

”I know, but it won’t be the same.”

Turk shifts in his seat slightly. “Elliot, aren’t you scared about giving it all up? Aren’t you worried you’ll miss it?”

After a moment of thinking, Elliot answers. “No, not really. I’d give it all up next week if I could. And I know that you guys don’t get that because medicine was always what you wanted to do. But for me, I just sort of fell into it. It wasn’t what I always wanted to do, at least not for the right reasons. Don’t get me wrong, now I can’t imagine myself ever having done anything different, but I really have absolutely no qualms about leaving medicine.”

”That’s great, Elliot,” Turk answers. “I’m happy for you.”

”Thanks. And you know what one of the best things about leaving is? I will never have to deal with annoying interns again.”

Elliot’s statement is met with a glare.

”You all hate me now, don’t you?”

”No, of course not,” we all answer in some form or another.

”Guys,” Elliot says, raising an eyebrow.

”Okay, maybe a little,” corrects Turk. “Especially since my interns are a bunch of irritating little suck ups who think they know it all when they really don’t. You know one of them tried to undermine my treatment plan the other day?”

”One of my interns picked up the wrong chart and attempted to tell a female patient that she had testicular cancer,” I add.

“I constantly have to redo bad IVs that interns screw up,” Carla scoffs. “Although, Elliot, your interns are pretty good.”

”It’s because they’re scared witless of me after the time I nearly killed one of them simply for not answering a question correctly.”

”That was a bit harsh.”

Elliot looks at me. “Well, yeah. But in my defence, I was in the middle of a pretty horrific mood swing, and if I hadn’t taken it out on him then it would have been you.”

”I should really thank that guy….”

”Where we ever that annoying when we were interns?” Turk asks.

Elliot and I both say no. Carla on the other hand:

”God, yes. Come on, all interns are as bad as each other. You three can only sit here now and bitch about them because you’re so much older and wiser. And because nurses like me helped your asses through it.”

”And we’ve never forgotten it, Carla. Thank you for all the help you’ve given us and will continue to give us over the years, whether we’ve asked for it or not,” Elliot laughs. “You know you can’t help yourself.”

Carla frowns. “I know. And hey, thanks again for agreeing to be Izzy’s godparents. It really means the world to us and there’s nobody else we’d rather have as her godparents than you two.” Before we really get a chance to say anything else, Carla stands up. “More drinks?”


After an afternoon of swapping stories about past days, we return home about 7.30.
Elliot walks into the apartment before me. “Hey,” she says to Alyssa, who’s sitting at the table with a textbook open in front of her. “Did you get a lot done?”

”Yeah,” Alyssa answers. “I got a lot of revision notes written. How was the rest of the Christening?”

“It was great. We had a photo album session back at Turk and Carla’s. And I hate to cut this conversation short, but I have been craving jalapenos all day.” She walks into the kitchen, just as I take a seat on the couch.

A second or two later, I hear Alyssa speak. “Oops.”

I turn my head to look at her. “What is it.”

She holds up her textbook. “This is Kate’s,” Alyssa explains. “So she must have my textbook. I’ll go call and tell her.”

As Alyssa stands up to (I assume) go to her room to call her friend, Elliot walks back into the living room.

”We have no jalapenos,” Elliot snarls. “So I’m going to go to store and get some. Does anybody else want anything?”

”No, I’m good. Thanks anyway.” With that Alyssa continues with her original task of walking to her room.

”No thanks, babe. Do you want me to come with you?”

Elliot shakes her head to say ‘no’. “Besides, I’ll only be a few minutes. See you when I get back.” Elliot leaves the apartment.

A few minutes later, the noise of a door opening breaks my conversation from the magazine I was reading.

“Damn,” Alyssa says, walking back into the living room. “Kate’s house phone is engaged. Now I can’t tell her that she left her textbook here.” Her tone is weird. She’s speaking really slowly, as if she’s hinting at something. “Oh, I know what I’ll do. I’ll ring her cell phone. You know, because one line is engaged. So I’ll ring the other one. You know. I’ll ring one number because of the engagement of the other one…”

I immediately drop what I’m holding. “How the hell do you know about that?”

”Because you suck at hiding stuff!” Alyssa sarcastically responds. “The closet? The only way that could have been lamer is if you’d just the engagement ring sitting on the freaking table!”

”Yeah, I know,” I concede. “But in my defence, I didn’t know where else to hide it without anyone finding out because they’d never keep their mouths shut.”

Alyssa raises an eyebrow. “Your locker at work?”

”Please, the Janitor breaks into my locker on a daily basis.”

Alyssa opens her mouth to speak, but then hesitates as if she’s trying to figure out if I’m joking. ”Okay then,” she eventually says. “What about at Turk and Carla’s?”

”And I’ve already made my point about people not shutting up,” is my sarcastic response. “Which, by the way…”

”Yeah, I won’t say anything,” Alyssa answers. Then a suspicious look crosses her face. “And neither will Kate.”

”Thank yo- wait, how does Kate know?”

Alyssa shrugs. ”She was here when the wardrobe encountered some technical difficulties,” she explains. “But she won’t say anything, I swear.”


”Okay, now that that’s out of the way,” Alyssa continues, as she sits on the arms of the couch, “I have to ask this question: When are you going to do it? When are you going to propose to her?”

I open my mouth to speak before hesitating. If I tell Alyssa, I run the serious risk that somehow or other, Elliot will find out before the event. But on the other hand, an opinion could be good. What the hell. Even if I don’t say anything, she’ll just bug me about it until I snap and kill her. “ We both have the night off next Monday. Elliot doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve booked a table at her favourite restaurant. It’s where we went on our first date.”


”Yeah. And then after we’ve had something to eat, I’m going to suggest a walk through the part of the park she loves and then… I’m just going to propose.”

”Oh my god,” Alyssa mumbles. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”

”I have… no idea. I want it to be perfect, you know? And everything I think of just sounds… well, crap.””Well, you still have nearly a week to figure something out,” Alyssa reassuringly offers.

”For the length of time I’ve been thinking about this, one last week is hardly going to
make a difference.”

Alyssa grins. “Wow. You two are going to be, like, so happy together. Well, you already, so that’s sort of redundant. But you will be. Although I feel I should warn you that Reids are genetically programmed to go Bridezilla. Seriously, it’s scary. You should start preparing yourself for that. Like, now.”

”Bridezilla Reid can’t be any more difficult to cope with than Pregnant Elliot, and I’ve been doing just fine with that!”

”True,” nods Alyssa. “Hey, the two of you made a baby, then bought a house and then you’re going to get married?” she adds. “Way to screw with the normal order of things!”

”Elliot and I never did things normally. It fits, really.” I pause. “Hey, do you think I should call Elliot’s dad and do the whole asking his permission thing?”

”Probably not,” Alyssa says, while fervently shaking her head. “That’ll just piss him off, considering you already knocked up his daughter.”

”Good to know.”

”So… if you’re marrying my aunt, does that mean I can call you my uncle?”

”By all means, go ahead, because I’ve sort of already been calling you my niece.”

”Fair enough,” Alyssa laughs.

It’s quiet for a minute or two. “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

”Tell anyone what?”

”Thank you.”