S3, EP11&12

THE MENTAL IMAGE OF A bloodied hand haunted her at night.

The flashback replayed in her mind like a videotape, over and over and over again. She eventually got frustrated with it and turned over on her bed-yet again. The only thing that was able to soothe her mind and stop her from dumping herself off her window was the rhythmic ticking of the clock.

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

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"DR GREY, I'D LIKE YOU to stick with Mr O'Malley this week. Yang, pit. Karev, Sloan." The six interns had just finished their rounds and were heading off in different directions as Bailey assigned them with their work. "Lawrence, prep Heather Douglas for surgery. Stevens, you're shadowing Lawrence."

The pair nodded and walked off towards the girl's room. "O'Malley, you take the rest of this week off?" Bailey asked. George nodded a yes, and the resident continued, "Might as well take today off too. Spend some time with your family."

"Dr Bailey, as things progress with my dad... You know, sometimes we, with families, we coddle them we sugarcoat things," George prefaced. "It would help if you were straight with me as things progress."

"Okay."

"Thank you," George smiled and walked off.

Norah yawned as she headed down the corridor with Izzie walking next to her. "You wanna prep her?" the former asked.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm giving you a chance. Are you complaining?" Norah cocked a brow at her, "Just try not to kill her while you do so."

Izzie scowled at the brunette, rolling her eyes. "That's not funny."

"Never said it was," Norah shrugged.

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Tick... tock... tick... tock...

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NORAH PLOPPED HERSELF down on a chair in the nurses' station as she looked for Heather Douglas's chart. She pulled it out from the drawer and began reading over it while she spun in circles on the chair with a coffee in her hand.

Addison, who was standing beside her, stared at the intern curiously. "Does the spinning help?"

"I'm using a centripetal force to rush blood into my brain," Norah replied, though not answering the attending's question.

"That makes no sense."

"I know."

Mark came out from the elevator, soaked from head to toe, looking pissed off. Alex had a suspicious smirk on his face as he walked up to the plastics attending, handing him a coffee. "Bone dry cappuccino," the intern stated.

"At least something's dry around here," Mark complained. "Does it ever stop raining in this hell hole?"

"Not really."

"Great. Good to know." Mark took a sip of the coffee and nearly spat it out instantly. "What the hell is this, Karev? Vanilla?" he bellowed. Several eyes turned to him, and the intern in question looked rather pleased with himself. "Are you trying to poison me? Or are you just trying to make my day a little bit worse?"

"Mark," Addison addressed, but the plastics attending merely spared her a glance.

"Coffee cart must have screwed up," Alex shrugged. Norah was impressed at the boldness of his action; Mark, however, was less than amused as he walked up to the intern.

"You know, if you can't handle coffee, you can't handle plastics," he warned. "Maybe you ought to head back to the gynie squad where life was all pink and squishy."

Norah sighed and got up from her seat, holding the patient's chart under her arm as she caught up to the attending. Mark turned to look at her as she walked next to him; his cranky mood seemed to soften as she nudged him the coffee in her hand.

"You seem to need it more than I do," she said.

He stared at her dubiously, but she had already swapped the coffee in their hands. "See, I don't know what got you in such a mood, and I don't really have interest in knowing," she lowered her voice, "But uh, try not to snap in the middle of the lobby... you know?"

The attending nodded and took a sip of the coffee, feeling the familiar taste going down his throat. "How do you know my coffee order?" he asked in surprise.

"It just so happens that we have the same order," she shrugged. She took a sip off her cup, and her face immediately frowned at the taste. "Oh god, this tastes-"

"Disgusting."

"It tastes like crap," she shook her head in disgust.

He chuckled and nudged her shoulder with his elbow. "Thanks for the coffee, Laurie."

She grinned and started walking away. "Just don't put me on your service!"

He watched until she was gone from his sight, the warm cup of coffee still sitting in his hand. As he continued walking down the hallway, he soon came to realise that the grin on his face had become harder to wipe off than before.

Oh, no...

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Tick... tock... tick... tock...

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"WHY ARE YOU CRYING?" Norah asked as she entered the locker room, staring at the blonde intern, who was hastily wiping away the tears on her cheek.

"I deposited... the cheque... this morning," Izzie spoke through her sobs.

"You're crying because your eight and a half million dollar cheque is now sitting in your bank account, collecting interest as we speak?" Norah mentally face-palmed herself. "And I thought I was going insane..."

"I wanted to use the money... to do good," Izzie stated. "Some good has to come from the money."

Norah raised a brow at her. "Then go do good," the brunette stated, as though she was stating the obvious. "Stop faffing around and prove that you're not mentally unstable."

Izzie scoffed, shaking her head weakly. "I don't get why you hate me so much, Norah," she turned to look at the other intern, "What have I done to you?"

What have you done to me? Norah felt like punching her in the face. I don't know-maybe your stupid, irrational decision had led to me having nightmares in the middle of the night? She had taken a few steps to walk away when Izzie grabbed her arm.

"You said we can peacefully coexist."

"Yeah, coexist," Norah emphasised, tugging her arm away from the other's grip. "Doesn't mean I have to like you."

"Why?"

The brunette took a deep breath in, then let it out. "Because your irresponsible decision led to more harm than you realise."

"You think I don't know that-Denny's dead!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but she ended up just sighing and walking away. How does one evolve into such a prat?

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Tick... tock... tick... tock...

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THE FOUR WOMEN LEANED against the nurses' station as they stared in the same direction-Meredith's father, who was speaking on the phone. They watched as Thatcher paced up and down the waiting room, talking and stammering.

"How am I related to that man?" Meredith questioned. "I mean, look at him. He's a mess." They watched as Thatcher swung his arm too hard and spilt his coffee everywhere. "I mean, he's a disaster. A stammering, mumbling, clumsy disaster with whom I have absolutely nothing in common. Not one thing."

Norah, Cristina and Izzie looked at one another with raised eyebrows, amused at their friend's claim. "I hate to break this to you, but..." Izzie chuckled.

"What?"

"The nervous talking you do... You're actually a lot like him," Norah shrugged.

"No, I'm not!"

"Plus that messy thing," Cristina added.

"You're the messy one," Meredith argued back.

"No, no, no. My apartment is messy, my locker's messy, but I am not messy," Cristina defended, and Norah nodded in agreement. "Sometimes you have like... food and stuff in your hair."

"Band-Aids on your face," Izzie added before squinting at the other intern. "I can still kind of see that indentation from that nose strip you were wearing last night..."

"You are in a relationship with no words. And you are a millionaire in 20-dollar shoes," Meredith snapped at the both of them before turning to Norah. "And you..."

"And me...?" the brunette mocked her words, waiting for an answer.

Meredith clapped her hands together and pointed at her. "You have Sloan pinning all over you!"

Norah was taken aback by her statement. "I'm-I'm sorry-what?" she stammered, blinking at the three who shared a mutual agreement.

"You're the only intern that he had ever personally requested on his service," Cristina pointed out.

"And you don't have to pick up his dry cleaning," Izzie added, "Or coffee... Or lunch..."

"We are friends," Norah claimed, "Just friends."

The three other interns glanced at each other and shrugged. "Sure."

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NORAH STOOD BESIDE Callie in the OR, where Derek and Callie were operating on Heather's spine; they were attempting to cut away a part of it and replace it with a metal spine.

"Drill," the neurosurgeon requested, "Another screw, please."

The surgery was going smoothly, and thanks to Izzie's donation, Heather was able to have the surgery when the insurance company refused to cover her medical costs, claiming that the surgery was too experimental. Now, the blonde sat in the gallery with a sour look on her face.

"Uh, Dr Shepherd, could you proceed without me?" Callie asked all of a sudden.

Derek stared at the resident in confusion. "Are you kidding me? This is your surgery, Torres." When the resident fumbled on her words, Norah followed Callie's gaze up at the gallery, where Meredith had just left after George, and now Cristina was following suit.

"This is your find," Derek stated. "You want to leave?"

"I am-I don't-but, yes," Callie stammered, "I'm sorry. If it's alright, I need to leave."

When Derek nodded confusedly, Callie passed the tools in her hands to Norah, then proceeded to leave the OR. "Give me some sponges, please," the neurosurgeon requested again. "What's going on?" he asked the intern.

"George rushed out of the gallery," Norah replied wearily. "It's his dad."

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Tick... tock... tick... tock...

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"SLOAN!" ALEX CALLED OUT as he caught up to the attending. "Dr Sloan-bone dry cappuccino. I watched them make it this time, so no mistakes."

Mark continued walking, ignoring the intern. Alex was still following the attending closely as he continued babbling on, "Hey, I noticed you have a reconstructive rhinoplasty on the board today, and I'd really like to scrub in if at all possible."

The plastic surgeon stopped at his steps and turned to the intern. "You've been working with Addison this week?" he questioned.

"Yes, sir. Working-working a lot. Real hard. Working..." Alex stammered.

"Did she seem... Is she miserable?"

"Oh, dude. She's awful. She's torturing me," Alex claimed. "I seriously have to get away from that woman. She is completely and utterly 100 percent miserable."

Mark nodded, "Good." He took the coffee from the intern's hand and began walking away.

"So, can I scrub in?"

"No."

Alex threw his arms in the air as he watched the attending walk up to another intern at the nurses' station.

Mark approached Norah from behind and stood next to her. He watched her scribble down words on charts and flip through the pages; his fury from within seemed to have gotten extinguished.

"Stop smiling at me like that," she huffed, turning to face him as she slipped her pen back into the pocket of her white coat. "What do you want?"

He clicked his tongue with a smirk. "What do I want? Let's see-"

"Hey-strictly friends, remember?" she cut him off, sending him an unamused glare.

"Okay," he nodded with a smile. "I have a reconstructive rhinoplasty this afternoon. Do you want in?"

She quirked a brow at him; his blue eyes were waiting for an answer-preferably an agreement. "Nope. I'm on Neuro today."

"You've been on Neuro all week."

"Glad that you know whereabouts, but unless you wanna risk another punch to the face, I'm on Derek's service for the rest of the week."

He sighed and shook his head. "You're impossible, Laurie."

She smiled smugly back at him. "I've been told."

"Why did you do it?!" George's voice rang in the lobby, and everyone's eyes turned to him. Norah watched as he walked up to the nurses' station, directly facing Webber. "Why did you do it once you saw the cancer had spread?!"

Bailey walked up to him. "George..."

"He asked you, right?" he scoffed, "He asked you to do it no matter what?"

"We have to honor our patient's wishes," Webber stated calmly.

George walked up to them, shaking his head. "You said you would be straight with me," he stared at Bailey with a look of betrayal; the resident, too, felt guilty. "He could have lived for weeks or months. We could have had months with him," he said weakly, "My mom-she could have had months with him!"

"He wanted a chance to fight the cancer, George," Webber tried. "It was his choice."

"He didn't know any better! You knew better!" the intern yelled, a pained expression surfacing his look. He glanced between the chief and the resident with tears creeping up his eyes as he felt his insides empty and hollow.

"O'Malley's yelling at the chief?" Mark questioned, and Norah nudged him hard in the ribs. "Ow-"

"You shouldn't have done it..." George gritted his teeth, "You shouldn't have done it!"

"You insensitive arse," Norah scoffed at Mark. "It's his dad, you tosser." Sending him an unamused look, she walked past the attending and darted off. "George-"

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Tick... tock... tick... tock...

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"SO YOU'RE SAYING THAT you're visiting Seattle before your exam?" Norah asked through the phone. She was sitting inside her car as long drops of rain splattered outside.

"Yes, Nor. You know me, I need a sense of adventure before exams-it stresses the fuck out of me!"

She furrowed her brows and set her phone on speaker as she started the engine of her car. "And your stress-relief is to fly over to the West Coast two days before your test?"

"Yes."

"And you're staying for?"

"One night."

"Bloody hell, you've finally lost it."

The person sighed heavily on the other side of the phone. "Are you letting me stay at your place or not?"

She picked up the phone again and placed it close to her ear. "I don't think 'no' is an option-hold on, I'll call you back in a bit."

Several knocks came from outside the window on the passenger side of the car. She ducked down to see Mark standing out in the rain and quickly unlocked her car for him to enter. He plopped down on the passenger seat, his clothes soaked.

"You're wetting my seats, Sloan," she muttered and ended the call, putting her phone away. He did not reply.

The two of them sat in silence as the rain continued pouring outside. Norah watched the droplets on the windshield racing down to the bottom as though she was a six-year-old child again.

"I would've made a terrible father, wouldn't I?"

She frowned at his words, and he turned his head to her with a distressed look on his face. "Why would you say so?" she questioned.

"I'm a whore. I sleep around," he stated. "I wouldn't be there for my... child."

"But a child is someone you have a deep connection with, someone whom you love," she disagreed. "You'd do anything for your child because... they're your flesh and blood-they're a mini-you. You would want the best for them," she frowned, "Until you can't provide them with the best, I guess... That's why adoption centres exist."

"Oh... I'm sorry," he spoke, but she waved him off.

"My adoptive parents are great people, and I still had a pretty decent childhood," she shrugged. "Cheers to them for that."

Mark nodded in silence. "Addison and I are done," he stated, his tone sure. "We're over. She doesn't want me, and she has made it quite clear."

Norah narrowed her eyes at his words. "So you're back on your nurses' rotation, then?" she smirked when he furrowed his brows at her. "You're a hot topic among the nurses-if you fail to notice."

He stared at her for a moment before smiling. "Nah."

"Well, if you say so."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Could you drive over to the corner there? My car's over there." Norah nodded before driving around the corner and stopping right in front of his car so that he could get on conveniently.

"Hey, Sloan?" she called out, and he turned back to her before opening the car door. "The future is unpredictable, but you would be an amazing father one day. I believe that."

He felt a warm sensation in his chest as a smile grew on his face. "Thanks, Laurie." With a sly grin surfacing, he quickly ruffled her hair and immediately sprinted out of her car before she could tackle him.

Norah mildly regretted not kicking him out into the rain.

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These are the two episodes titled 'Six Days' so this chapter is more of a mini time-lapse covering the six days- hope there's no confusion lmao