11.08

"Oh." Helena let out, as Meredith grabbed her arm, pulling her down the hallway. "Hello to you, too." As the blond turned to look at her with a scorn, she let out. "Oh. Not hello. That's your murder face. Murder face is good."

"We need Alex." Meredith announced, pulling Helena into an on call room.

As they spotted the man on the bottom bunk, Helena sat by his feat, as Meredith lied by his side.

"Ow." He let out.

"I called Derek." The blond announced.

"I'm laying here. I'm sleeping." He complained, his voice still raspy.

"A woman answered his phone." She informed.

"A woman? What kind of woman?" Helena asked, in shock, her mouth falling a slight bit open.

"There are two empty beds, Lena, Mer." Alex groaned.

"One empty bed. I'm up here." Maggie peaked down from the top bunk. "A woman answered his phone?"

"Whose phone?" The man asked, still groggy.

"Derek's phone. Keep up." Helena reprimanded, with a smack on his arm.

"What kind of woman?" Maggie asked, just like the younger girl had.

"Doesn't matter." Alex shrugged.

"It matters." The three women let out.

"She was perky, and she sounded happy and tall, with a lot of great hair." Meredith sighed, narrowing her eyes.

"Hold up, you saw her? How did you see her?" Alex furrowed his brows.

"I didn't. I heard her voice. Her perky, happy, tall voice." Meredith described.

"I hate voices like that." Maggie shared, as Helena tilted her head, her eyes widening.

"Wait, wait, you can sound tall?! Does that mean my shortness is being exposed on the phone?" As Meredith shot her a look, she apologized. "Right, besides the point. Sorry. Keep going."

"What did Derek say?" Maggie asked.

"I didn't talk to him. Now I keep going to voicemail. My short, twisty, mad voice keeps going to voicemail. He's not cheating on me, right?" Meredith asked.

"He's not cheating on you." The other three doctors reassured.

As Meredith's pager went off, she got up, letting out. "Trauma."

A beeping sound came from Helena's lab coat, the girl peeking inside her pocket to let out. "Me, too."

——

"Chief, where do you need me?" Helena asked, as she pulled on her trauma gown, by Callie, who changed into her scrubs.

"Trauma 1. Torres, I need you in trauma tw- oh, you're changing clothes." He froze, slowly blinking. "You know we have attendings lounges for that."

"Yeah, no time." She let out, pulling her dress over her head, her pants already on.

"Uh, I'm going to need a resident." The short girl let out, pulling her hair into a quick low bun.

"Edwards, you're with Torres. Wilson, you're with Robbins." He informed.

"Ok, Wilson, tie me?" She requested, the resident tying the back of her trauma gown. "Thank you, let's go."

The two quickly walked down the hallway, Helena opening the curtain that separated the trauma room. As she did, confusion fell all over her face.

"Where's my patient?" She asked, the room empty.

"Crap." Jo let out, behind her.

"Wilson, we don't let pregnant trauma patients roam around the hospital unattended! Please find her. ." Helena ordered, disguised as a request.

——

"Oh, oh, pregnant patient! I see her!" Helena lightly smacked Jo's arm in excitement, as she spotted the woman talking to April.

"Excuse me, you can't get out of bed." Jo reprimanded her, as April shot Helena a look.

The short girl placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, as if to indicate she had her.

"You're not listening, mom." The woman spoke on the phone. "A car smashed into our house."

"Hi, Blair. I'm Dr. Campos. We need to check on you and your baby, and we can't do that here." Helena explained, with a soft smile.

"One sec." The woman requested, sitting down on the wheelchair Jo held. "Mom, I just told you a car smashed into our house and that's what you're worried about?! The music is fine for the baby, mom." As she hung up, she complained. ". My husband is in a punk rock band, and my mother doesn't approve. . It's been... eight years. Is he ok?"

——

"It's not a big deal, it's just a cut." Blair reassured, after getting to check on her husband, as Amelia worked on her forehead.

"It's a very deep cut." The neurosurgeon corrected. "Any dizziness or blurred vision?"

"I keep telling everyone, I feel fine. Except for the fact I'm exhausted and ginormous." The woman let out.

"Yeah, you're pregnant, I think it's safe to say it comes with the territory." Helena smiled, writing down some notes. "So, you're husband's in a punk rock band?"