S6 EP11

NORAH STIRRED FOR A moment before lifting her head from Mark's chest; he was already awake and staring at her with a dumbstruck grin stuck on his face.

"I need something from you," he voiced out.

"Wow, not even a 'Good morning, Laurie, I love you'?" she raised a brow before dropping her head back to her pillow.

"Good morning, Laurie, I love you," he recited, which made her chuckle. "And I need something from you." She leaned up to him and caught his lips with hers, feeling his smile through their kiss. "Well... that too," he muttered, "I need you to give Sloan an ultrasound today."

"Why can't you get someone from OB?" she mumbled out her question as she draped her leg over to straddle him.

"Well, yeah, but she likes you. All the Sloans do," he replied while his hand traced up the side of her body. He propped himself up on his elbows, nudging their noses together. "It's impossible not to, you see, have I told you that?"

"I say actions speak louder than words," she whispered back before connecting their lips again. Before the kiss could get heated, their door was barged open-

"Hey, do we have any more-oh! Ew! Ew!"

Norah had just caught a glimpse of Sloan over her shoulder before she got flung to the side of the bed.

"Knock! For god's sake-knock!" she yelled out in an annoyed tone while Mark hurried up to shrug on his sweatpants, hopping his way out of the room.

Heading out of the room shortly after him, she heard part of the ongoing conversation near the kitchen.

"...there's no more cereal," Sloan complained.

"I'll get some cereal this afternoon," Mark stated, and Norah leaned against the kitchen island with a yawn.

"Juice is good for the baby," she mentioned, and he was quick to pour out a glass. "Add chocolate bars to your grocery list, too. Dark chocolate."

"Those are bitter."

"Love, you do not know how to enjoy food."

He caved and nodded, bringing the glass of orange juice over to his daughter. "Uh, Norah's gonna give you an ultrasound today," he informed, fishing out his wallet. "Why don't you pick up some breakfast at the hospital?"

Sloan took the 20-dollar bill before lifting her head back to him. "It's gonna be more."

"You need some for lunch, too?" Mark quirked a brow at the blonde.

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded shamelessly.

Norah refrained from rolling her eyes and instead settled for picking up a set of clothes and head down the hall, knowing that the blonde's morning sickness was always an intense one.

"She hates me," Sloan spoke up when Norah was out of sight.

Mark furrowed his brows at his daughter. "No, she doesn't."

"I'm telling you, she hates me, and she wants me out. No offense, but you're not a girl. And girls know when other girls hate them."

That statement left Mark beyond puzzled.

❦

NORAH ENTERED CALLIE and Cristina's apartment with a loud sigh, causing Cristina to glance over to her. "Morning, sweetheart. Sloan-Sloan monopolising your bathroom again?"

"As usual," the brunette replied and shook her head, "He just gave her fifty bucks for breakfast-and presumably lunch. I'm on an ongoing debate on whether he's aware and just letting her be, or he's just an oblivious dumb blond."

Cristina raised a brow while scooping a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "Well, he's Mark Sloan-definitely the second one."

Norah furrowed her brows with a firm nod. "Yeah, that totally makes sense," she sighed. "Is your shower...?"

"Owen's in mine."

The brunette grumbled under her breath before walking over to Callie's room. Just as she was about to twist open the doorknob, a thought flashed in her mind. Her hand slowly left the knob and knocked on the translucent bathroom door.

"Occupied!" Norah heard Arizona's voice from within, followed by excited squeals.

"There's no more hot water, by the way!" Callie added.

Norah let out another sigh before throwing her hands in the air. "What a wonderful fucking morning."

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH WAS ABOUT TO head into the examination room when she ran into Timothy. "Oh, hey."

"Hey back," he greeted before peeking through the glass window. "That Sloan kid still around, huh?"

"Don't be bitter, now. I'm giving her an ultrasound," Norah stated, and he shrugged back at her. "Uh, any chance you can get me a new number?"

"A new number?" he questioned, "As in phone number?" She nodded, and he grew more confused than curious. "Why?"

"Spam messages, like a lot."

Partially the truth. The whole truth would be that she was hoping that whoever had been texting her was just some troll and not who she thought it was...

"Alright, then. Just pay me back."

❦

"HEY, UM, DO YOU HAVE any cash?" Sloan asked while Norah held the transducer probe at its place. "I lost the headset to my phone."

The resident shook her head lightly before responding, "Have you tried, I don't know, holding it up to your ear for a change?"

"You were the one that was bitching at me last night for being on the phone so late," the blonde reminded, "Maybe if I had a headset, I wouldn't have to talk so loud."

"Kid, your dad gave you fifty bucks this morning," Norah replied with a tone that contained a hint of passive-aggressiveness. "Use ten for a headset or even twenty if you want a more decent one. I'm pretty sure thirty bucks is enough for breakfast and lunch."

She swore she heard a scoff coming from the younger woman but decided to turn a deaf ear. She rolled the probe to the side of her stomach before pointing at the screen. "Alright, there's the head."

Sloan chuckled slightly. "It looks like an alien."

"Hm, I can't say you're wrong," Norah shrugged back, "Cute alien, though I might add."

"A boy alien or a girl?" Sloan inquired.

The resident slowly moved the probe towards the bottom half of the fetus's body, but before she could confirm its gender, another thing caught her eye. She squinted at the screen, trying to make out the image through the ultrasound display.

"Dude, does it have a thing or not?"

"Um... You know what?" Norah glanced over her shoulder to the teen whose eyebrows knitted closely. "Why don't we move upstairs for a better machine to take a better look, because this one... This one here isn't showing clear images, yeah?"

"Um, alright."

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH HAD BLOCKED THE third number in a week. The concern within her was growing by the day. She placed her phone back into her pocket when she saw her boyfriend walking towards her after she paged him.

"Hey, Mark-"

"Did you tell her that you hate her staying with us?" Mark cut her off with a somewhat accusing voice, causing her to re-process his words.

"What are you talking about?"

"Sloan. She said you didn't allow her to be on the phone at night and that she was annoying you?" he had his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. She was about to clear up his words before he cut her off again.

"I know you're not a fan of her living with us, Norah, but you're making her feel like crap," he resumed, and her eyes widened at his assumption. "She said you wouldn't even be alone in a room with her and-"

"You done?" she snapped back in a harsher tone, causing him to shut up at once and respond with a single nod.

"Good. First off, I did not tell her that I hate her for staying with us, nor did I tell her that I hate her-because I don't," Norah stated firmly, "Secondly, I don't give a crap if she wants to stay up all night talking to her friends, but just for the love of god, not on speaker at three in the morning. You might be a deep sleeper, Mark Sloan, but I am not. I'm a surgical resident, and sleep does not come by easy-you know that.

"Also, you don't get to storm up with one side of the story, you hear me?" she questioned, and he nodded sheepishly. "And why the hell would I not be fine with being in a room with her?"

"Well, why do I have to chaperone the ultrasound?" he asked, and she let out a long sigh.

"Because there's something wrong with the baby, Mark," she informed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "She's being checked by an actual OB right now."

❦

MARK STOOD BESIDE SLOAN, who was lying on the bed while the OB checked on her ultrasound. Norah stood behind the latter, feeling the tension in the room doubling by the minute, especially Mark, who was tapping his foot anxiously.

"See there?" the brunette pointed at the screen, "On the left thigh."

"Yeah. On his other ankle, too," the OB nodded.

"Wait-it's a boy?" Sloan blurted out her question rather excitedly.

Norah gave her a tight smile, catching a look at Mark, who lit up as well, his mouth slightly gaped open in surprise. "I haven't gotten to that part, so..." she mumbled to the OB, who was slightly confused.

"Oh! Oh, sorry. Congratulations!" the OB told the pregnant woman before returning to the screen. "Uh, there's a lot of swelling on the right foot," she pointed out, "It's... It's very constricted."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sloan questioned, puzzled by the whole situation going on.

"Well, the baby's got strands of amniotic tissue wrapped around his legs. They're called amniotic bands," Mark responded. Even though she did not quite understand what he was saying, the tenseness in the room was enough to tell her that it was something bad.

"There's a danger of him compromising one of his limbs," the OB explained.

"So, what? One of his legs is gonna, like, fall off?"

"Fall off would be overdramatic..." Norah narrowed her eyes, "But that's the worst-case scenario."

"He's gonna have stumps?!"

"We don't know what we're dealing with yet," Mark spoke up this time, trying to reassure his daughter although he was worried himself. "Whatever it is, we're gonna take care of it."

"I can't have a stumpy baby," Sloan shrieked in horror, staring at the medical staff in the room. "Can't you fix it?"

The OB was met with Mark's burning stare while Norah tried to calm Sloan down for the sake of the child. "Um, I don't know-"

"You know, I have an idea," Mark interjected harshly, "How about we don't answer any patient questions with the phrase, 'Um, I don't know'?"

"Mark," Norah warned him, and he scoffed lightly, shaking his head.

"We're gonna fix it," he told his daughter before lifting his head to his girlfriend. "Uh, let's get a fetal MRI."

"You know, I'm not sure that I would recommend-" the OB tried to input her professional judgement but was cut off by Mark-again.

"I wasn't talking to you. You're done," he snapped, and the OB merely stared back at him in disbelief. Norah mumbled an apology on his behalf, which made the OB feel slightly better.

Her nerves were shooting up her head from three things-Mark, who was more uptight and stressed out than he had ever been; Sloan, whose unborn child is facing difficulties; the unknown number, which is causing her hair to stand every time she received a message.

"Call Addison," she suggested, and Mark was the first to dart out the room with his phone already in his hand.

❦ ❦ ❦

TIMOTHY HAD MANAGED to stop by the store opposite the hospital to buy a new number. Hence Norah was currently changing the SIM card in her phone.

"When I asked who the resident on the case was, I didn't expect the resident not to be present with the patient," a voice spoke up behind her, and she turned around on the chair.

"I... I have some issues to deal with," Norah claimed, shoving the old SIM card into her pocket as the other woman folded her arms above her chest.

"Personal issues, not... I mean, well, that obviously is an issue, too, but..." she broke into a chuckle and stood up from her seat, "It's great to see you again, Addison."

"Great to see you, too," the tall redhead grinned back at the resident, "Also, I need you to teach Mark how to bond with children before he goes on and tells his daughter about his sex life like its bedtime story."

"I-yeah, I'll do that," Norah furrowed her brows in concern, more disturbed, as a matter of fact.

"Now, read through this chart ASAP because you're scrubbing in."

"Oh, alright..."

Addison raised a brow at her. "Not too enthusiastic to scrub in with me, I hear?" she voiced out, and the resident stammered a little. "I'm just joking. I can't blame you for... you know, really."

"Yeah... And I'm trying not to be an arse over the whole situation, I guess," Norah shrugged back with a sigh.

"I vaguely remember you said that babies hate you, or children in general," the attending mentioned, and the resident sighed, recalling one of the conversations they had in her intern year.

"Children scare the crap outta me, how 'bout that?" the brunette returned with a weary smile. "It'll work out, eventually."

❦ ❦ ❦

"WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU nick them?" Mark questioned as he shuffled uneasily on his spot beside Addison in the OR. The latter had tried keeping him out, but the former would not budge.

Addison sighed as she held the scalpel in her hand, just about to open up Sloan on the table. "Dr Lawrence?"

"She and the baby could both bleed out," Norah answered, looking between the annoyed surgeon and the anxious one on the back.

"I don't like it," Mark interrupted, "It's too dangerous."

"Mark, I have assessed the risk factors," Addison informed, "I'm ninety-five percent confident I can get around the arteries. I'm choosing to continue my surgery."

"And I don't like the other five percent."

"Mark, you're not the fetal surgeon here," Norah interjected with a frown on her face.

"No," he snapped back, "If she hits any one of those, Sloan bleeds out right on this table."

Addison turned to look at him. "Look, you're nervous. I get that-"

"I'm a surgeon, and I'm looking at a time bomb in a uterus," he cut her off harshly, his voice firm, "Shut it down. Now, Addison."

The redhead attending looked pissed off; the resident, too, was running on a very short fuse. "Dr Sloan, get out of the OR," Norah spoke up, her voice bringing a hint of anger that he caught, "Now."

Mark was reluctant at first, but after Addison pulled the probe out of Sloan, he sighed and turned around, heading into the scrub room. Norah finally let her eyes roll to the moon and back, shaking her head.

"Sorry about him," she told the attending, who mumbled back a response. "Trust me when I say you're the fifth person he snapped at, and I've apologised to four of the five."

"Who's the fifth?" Addison asked curiously.

"Myself."

The attending narrowed her eyes at the gloominess on the resident's face and shook her head disapprovingly. "Why are you apologising on his behalf?"

Her question seemed to open a part of the resident's complex and messy mind as she furrowed her brows. She glanced at the redhead, then to him, who was pacing in the scrub room. "Brilliant question... I don't know."

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH STOOD IN SLOAN'S room while she filled in the rest of the chart. She was already starting to doze off after the long day. And to add to that, her mind had been spinning with overthinking thoughts the entire day. It was tiring.

Mark sat partially on the bed, next to Sloan, who had just woken up a while ago. "If Dr Montgomery had hit it during the procedure..." he trailed off at the thought of it, shaking his head, "It's dangerous."

"Well, what about that band that's squeezing his thigh?" Sloan asked, her eyebrows furrowed, "He's not even gonna have a knee?"

"Sloan, you could've died."

"Well, I can't have a gimpy kid!"

"Honey, I know I haven't been your father for long, but if you say 'gimp' one more time, I'm gonna smack you," Mark stated firmly, his voice solemn; Norah was still trying to keep her eyes open.

"You don't get it," Sloan's voice broke, "He needs legs, okay? He doesn't have a dad, and he's got a stupid, slutty mom." Mark's furrowed his brows as he stared back at his daughter. "Don't you see? I've already hurt him enough by giving him me as a mother. He needs feet."

"Sloan," Norah tried, "You're not-"

"Look, I don't know how to take care of any baby, okay? I can't have one that is hurt. I just can't handle it!" the blonde continued in fright, "My mom doesn't even talk to me. I'm doing this alone. Please."

Mark let out a sigh before holding her hand tight. "Listen, you're not stupid. And you're not slutty," he stated, "The Sloans... are a... passionate people."

That particular word was enough to make Norah lift her head from the chart with a raised brow amusingly.

"You dragged yourself across the country so that you could help taking care of this baby. That's not being stupid. That's being a mom," Mark resumed, and Norah smiled a little to herself, liking that his dad-side is finally coming in. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you or the baby."

Norah sighed and clicked her pen. "Go the L.A., both of you," she spoke up, gaining the attention of the father and daughter, "Addison said ninety-five percent, which isn't bad, really. Let her do the surgery and save the kid's leg."

Her compassionate side was surfacing at the sight of them, and she smiled back at the two.

Mark looked back at the blonde who had pleading eyes, and he finally gave in. "Look like we're going to L.A." Sloan smiled brightly and sat up, giving her father a big hug.

Norah sighed and put her pen back into the pocket of her white coat. She cleared up the charts, wanting to give them some time alone.

"You're not gonna do this alone," Mark reassured, tightening the hug. When he pulled back, a suggestion popped up in his mind. "Hey. Stay," he stated, "After the baby is born, live with Norah and I. Raise the baby with us."

Norah stopped in her tracks just as she was about to walk out of the room. She threw a glance over her shoulder; she had a mix of shocked, confused and 'what the fuck' look on her face as she drowned in her mind again.

That was compassion on an entirely different level-a level she was not willing, nor did she agree to climb up to.

She really wanted to speak up, to pipe in, there and then, but a voice in her head was telling her not to. In the end, her words caught behind her throat, threatening to come out but got pressed back; she listened to her head despite the protest coming from her heart.

Her heart, that ached at the sight of the love of her life who was eager to start a family with no regard for her opinion, no need to say her agreement.

She wondered deeply if he even noticed when she slipped out of the room.

❦ ❦ ❦

"HEY, TIM, WAIT UP!" NORAH caught up to the man who was just on his way out of the hospital, "Are you driving?"

"Um, yeah? To my apartment," Timothy raised a brow. She laced her arm to his elbow, dragging him out of the hospital doors along with her. "Why are you tagging along? Where's Sloan?"

She did not reply and merely flashed him a brief, expressionless look. "Oh, I know that look," he sighed, "You're running away from your fucking problems again, aren't you?"

"Well, the problem is, Mark invited to raise the child with his daughter without my say, there's that," she ranted, the stinging in her chest growing at the mention of it. "He's starting a family, and honestly, I'm not even sure whether I'm in the picture."

He shook his head, already predicting that something like this would happen sooner or later. She continued, "I mean, I know that that's his daughter, and now I feel like the bad guy-"

"Alright, now stop right there," he cut her off, not giving her a chance to finish her sentence, "You are not the bad guy. Sloan's an ass, but you love him, and this is a lot to process. It's his fault in this one, so you stop overthinking it and redirecting all fucking blames to yourself."

"Ouch. You really did not have to call me out like that."

"Glad that you know," he shot back unamusingly, "But why don't you, well, talk to him?"

"Because I'm bloody exhausted, and that makes me snappy. And I might end up saying things I don't mean because Santa Claus did not gift me a filter for Christmas."

"I lost you at Santa Claus, but okay..." he narrowed his eyes while they walked into the parking lot.

"Wait, we're not waiting for Lexie?"

Timothy scratched the back of his head when his sister cocked a brow at him. When she started narrowing her eyes to study his look, he gave in with a sigh.

"Well, she kinda freaked out when I asked her to move in with me... So there's that," he mumbled with a weak chuckle, "Yeah, we'll figure it out, but right now, it's just you and I... So, how about a movie?"

"Popcorn?"

"Ooh, I've got the butter ones."

"Ew. Caramel for me, please."