S3 EP5

[CW: slight panic attack/PTSD]

"SHE'S LOSING IT," MEREDITH complained as she shoved her bag into her locker. "She almost battered and deep-fried an eight and a half million dollar cheque this morning."

"That kind of money, I'd buy my own hospital," Cristina said.

"And I'd stock it full of sick people," Norah added.

"Just imagine the vavuloplasties and ruptured aneurysms..."

"You both are a psycho. You know that, right?" George stared at the two women in fear.

"Okay, I'm not the one with an eight and a half million dollar cheque I won't cash," Cristina defended.

"Stop talking about me. I'm fine," Izzie interjected as she sat on the bench, looking at the contents inside her locker with a box on her side. "I'm cleaning out my locker, and I'm going home."

"Brilliant," Norah shrugged, closing the door of her locker.

Izzie turned to the brunette, her eyebrows knitted together. "Do you have a problem with me?" she questioned; Norah lifted her eyes to the blonde as she tied up her hair. "Because you've been actively ignoring me ever since the night Denny died."

Norah stared at her for a moment before shrugging again. "Brilliant."

❦ ❦ ❦

THE INTERNS GATHERED around Bailey, waiting for her to assign them their work for the day. "M&M in fifteen minutes, people," the resident informed.

"Wait, we get to go to M&M?" Alex asked in disbelief.

"Even if we haven't started our rounds?" Norah reconfirmed.

"Even if," Bailey nodded. "I want all of you at the M&M today."

"Yes!" Alex cheered out loud, and Norah nudged him in the elbow.

Bailey, who was about to walk away, turned back and scowled at her interns; the smile on Alex's face instantly died off. "People die in this hospital," the resident scolded. "Once a month, we gather to discuss how our actions as physicians contributed to the deaths-this is a serious exercise."

When she got called away, the interns gathered around at once. "George, Alex, you get good seats," Cristina instructed, "Mer, Norah and I will get snacks." And off they went to separate directions.

❦ ❦ ❦

"PATIENT #34986 DIED last month from complications following a heart transplant," Webber announced through the microphone. "Dr Burke will present." The interns looked horrified as Burke walked up the lectern.

"Isn't patient #34986..."

"Denny Duquette," Norah confirmed, feeling a bitterness build up in her stomach.

"8 million dollars," Cristina grumbled. "8 million dollars could get us on a plane to somewhere far, far away."

Burke cleared his throat and started, "Patient #34986. Cause of death was an embolus that dislodged from the suture line and caused a CVA with brain stem herniation."

Many people raised their hands for questions, and Burke called on one of them. "So the company line is he died from a CVA?" asked a woman.

"There is no company line. That's how he died."

"Let's get back to this patients need for an emergent transplant," an older man interrupted. "You're saying the patient's left ventricle had been weakened by the LVAD malfunction?"

"His left ventricle was weakened by the fact that he had congestive heart failure," Burke stated.

"Please, Dr Burke," another man scoffed. "We all know the LVAD was cut by an intern." The hall went silent before whispers and mumbles started to grow.

"The events remain unclear."

Norah did not like how this M&M was going, not a single bit. The event of that day that remained unclear to her was crawling back to her skin. "I'm going to my happy place..." George mumbled.

"Me, too," she whispered, sinking into her seat.

She shut her eyes and steadied her breathing, thinking about the front yard of their childhood home-the green grass and fresh air around the neighbourhood...

Until vehicle smoke filled her lungs. The bright and sunny place got replaced with a cold, dark night. The lights in the ER were glaring, and shouts and murmurs were everywhere.

"It's unclear to you because you were in the ER with a gunshot wound," the man stated bluntly as he crossed one leg on top of another. "Why aren't we hearing from Dr Bailey? She was the senior physician on the case."

Gunshot wound... gunshot...

The loud tapping sound against the microphone caused Norah to jump slightly on her seat as her eyes flew open. She gripped the armrests tightly, and her legs jolted; she felt as though she got flushed by a wash of cold.

"Norah, are you okay?" Meredith asked next to her.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine."

"You jumped," Cristina pointed out.

"She flinched," Alex corrected, his brows furrowed.

The auditorium felt hot and stuffy, as though the air was trapping her from within. Norah felt sick.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna..." she slowly stood up from her seat and passed her bag of chips to Meredith. "I'll be back in a minute."

Before the other interns could speak, she had darted for the door. She pulled open the cold handles of the heavy door and stepped out of the room, walking towards the wall and leaning against it.

She had to leave the place to catch her breath; it felt suffocating.

"Norah?" a voice spoke. The brunette lifted her head to meet the blonde. "Is the M&M..."

"You do not want to go in there," Norah stated bluntly. "Trust me, Izzie, don't."

"Why are you stopping me from listening to the M&M?" Izzie folded her arms in front of her.

That git. Why do I care? "Whatever. Just go if you want to," she muttered before walking away towards the balcony.

She stood by the railing for a long time, watching doctors and nurses walking about, as well as pedestrians zooming around outside the hospital. The trees were swaying lightly from what she expected to be a windy morning; the sun was bright and the sky cloudy.

"You look like hell."

Norah rolled her eyes at Derek, who stood next to her by the balcony railing. "I feel like hell. I look hot."

"I thought you should be in the M&M?" Derek asked.

"Patient #34986, Denny Duquette," Norah stated. "Well, let's just say I couldn't spend another second in there, listening to them argue about the events which led to me getting shot." He nodded quietly.

"You know, I saw my mum-my adoptive mum-when I was out," she recalled. "It was like lucid dreaming... except I was kind of dying."

"Where were you?" he queried.

"At our home in London," she replied. "It was the morning where she smashed her head on a flower pot... then died during surgery."

Derek blinked at her words. "That's dark," he grimaced. "Well, so is that why you decided to become a surgeon?"

"That'd sound cliché," Norah chuckled softly, "But no, that's not the reason." She frowned as she recalled a memory of hers. "I had a dream when I was like, six... about my birth mother. She was a doctor, coming home after a late shift and tugging me in bed," she chuckled drily, "Funny, isn't it? I hate her-that woman abandoned me, and I chose this career because of a stupid dream of her... Or at least it sounds like it."

"You ever thought of... finding her?"

She shook her head. "She made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me when she dropped me off at the adoption centre," she stated. "So, no, I'm not wasting my time on her."

"But why a surgeon?" he queried again, and she smirked.

"For the pay, duh."

❦ ❦ ❦

THE LOCKER ROOM WAS nearly empty as most of the interns had already gone home. Norah had passed the keys to her apartment to Cristina, who wanted a nicer place to sleep while she waited for Burke to finish his surgery.

Norah dragged her feet into the room, yawning and stretching after a long day in the hospital. She walked towards her locker, where she saw Izzie standing in front of her own locker, putting her belongings back into her locker.

The blonde saw her and gave her a light smile. "I decided to stay," she said.

"Oh," Norah was curious about what made her change her mind, but she did not bother to ask. "Good for you, I guess." She opened the door of her locker and began putting away her stuff.

"You hate me," Izzie voiced out.

There was a long moment of silence before the brunette sighed. "Is that a question or a statement?"

"Why do you hate me?" Izzie asked. "I mean, I get that I kinda got Denny killed, but why do you hate me so much for it?"

Norah had no idea how to respond to her question. "You know what?" she closed her locker, "I want us to coexist peacefully as co-workers if you're keeping your job."

"I do, too," Izzie agreed.

"But I can't promise that I'll stop... disliking you, for your actions done," the brunette added. "But... let's just-coexist."

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH LAID ON HER bed in her room, staring blankly at the clock that now read 3:40 am. She had gotten out of bed to shut the window next to her bed, blocking off the sound of drunken shouts and slurs from people who had left the pubs and bars.

She needed the silence for her to fall asleep, but it was the same silence that kept her awake. The loneliness she felt in the quietness was bugging her, and she flipped to face the other side of her bed for the umpteen time in that night.

Gunshot. That one word repeated in her head.

The scar on her abdomen felt tingly, but she knew it was just her mind playing with her. She listened to the ticking of her alarm clock that seemed like the only thing that soothed her.

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

The rhythm was constant, with no hiccups or stoppings.

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

Time slowly passed by, a second at a time, until she finally felt her eyelids getting heavier.

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

She finally fell asleep to a deep slumber that she had missed for a long time.

❦ ❦ ❦

S3 EP8

NORAH WALKED INTO the locker room after changing into her scrubs, where the five other interns were gathering in a group with George in the middle. He was flipping through a patient's chart; his expression worried while he tapped his feet anxiously on the floor.

"What's going on?" Norah queried, approaching them.

"George's dad was admitted last night," Izzie shared. "He passed out, hit the floor and fractured his clavicle."

"Oh-George, is your dad okay?"

"He's fine," George stated, "And his clavicle is fine. Callie said... she said it's fine."

"Are those his AM labs?" Meredith asked from behind.

"Complaining of severe abdominal pain."

"He doesn't have peritoneal signs. That's good."

Bailey walked into the locker room and moved Norah out of her way; the intern stumbled slightly while she clipped her pager onto the waistband of her pants. "Has anybody seen..." Bailey spoke up, and the interns turned their heads to her at once.

"I was just looking at it," George informed, passing his father's chart back to the resident.

"Don't you think me reading it is more important than you reading it?" Bailey shook her head and lifted her head back to George. "You're on scut today. You'll be distracted."

"No, I won't-"

"Family members do not treat family members," Bailey cut him off. "Scut."

"I'm scrubbing in on a surgery with Dr Burke this morning," Cristina informed.

"Of course you are," Bailey deadpanned; the five other interns stared at her sour look, then shrugging at each other. "Karev, Sloan. Lawrence, you too. Grey, pit. Stevens shadow Karev," Bailey handed out their assignments.

"Sloan?" Norah questioned.

"Yes, Sloan. He requested for you," Bailey confirmed.

Requested? Oh, great.

❦ ❦ ❦

"AH, EXCELLENT. MY invaluable intern and a highly valuable one," Mark stated as the three interns approached him in the nurses' station. He raised his head from the charts to the three of them, then turned to frown at Alex.

"Is it 'bring-a-hot-blonde-to-work' day? Nobody told me."

The three chuckled faintly. "Sexual harassment," Izzie coughed, and Norah smirked next to her. Mark lifted his eyes to her momentarily, then back to his charts.

Alex cleared his throat before speaking up, "Dr Stevens is shadowing me today, so..."

"Which one of these cases do you need us on?" Izzie asked.

Mark thought for a moment as he slowly turned to look at the interns. "It's a really tragic one," he stated, and the interns' curiosity was gradually building up. He smirked at the three pairs of eager eyes.

"Just this morning, I found out that I have over two weeks' worth of dry cleaning that needs to be picked up," he handed Alex a receipt, "Stat."

"Cool. That's it?"

Mark shook his head. "I also need you to get me a sandwich from that pathetic excuse for a deli, Karev-you know the one I like. But go easy on the mayo this time. I think you're trying to kill me."

Izzie looked surprised while Norah stared at Alex, amused. "You're a bloody suck-up," Norah muttered at him, and Izzie nodded in agreement.

"Lawrence, you coming?" Mark called out, and Norah turned around. She quickly bid goodbye to the two other interns and hurried towards the attending. Alex groaned in frustration while Izzie sighed.

"Why'd you request me on your service?" she queried as she caught up to Mark waiting for the elevator.

"You have a potential in plastics."

"Potential? Maybe. Interest? None," she smiled as the elevator arrived. He held the elevator doors for her, and she stepped into it. He raised a curious brow at her when she narrowed her eyes at him. "Dry cleaning?"

"I need clothes to wear," he stated while the doors closed. He lowered his head to the intern and added with a whisper, "As much as you'd like me without it."

Norah merely shook her head. "Don't flatter yourself, Sloan," she replied. Mark nodded and stood back up; the space was quiet for the rest of the elevator ride.

❦ ❦ ❦

"OH YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I'm talking about! Oh, look at you!" Frank exclaimed as Alex removed the wrapping around his chest. "Do they still look lopsided? I mean, from the seroma?"

"No, it looks like most of the swelling has gone down," Alex assured.

"Yeah? Oh yeah," Frank continued admiring his new implants before turning to the two female interns. "Hey, uh, Dr Lawrence, would you take a look at the twins?" he asked. "Frank would like a woman's perspective."

"Uh... the twins look fine, looks good..." Norah trailed off, turning to Izzie. "Dr Stevens can take a look... Just looking."

Izzie observed Frank's chest and complimented it while Alex and Norah stood back, staring at the situation, trying to stop themselves from laughing. Frank explained the reason he got the pec implants in the first place, telling the interns about his issues with ex-girlfriends.

"I just don't get the whole fake boob thing," said Izzie. "No offense."

"Oh, these are top of the line. They look real. They feel natural," Frank claimed. "No, really. Feel them, really. Feel them."

Alex nudged his head for the blonde to go on, and Izzie poked Frank's chest. "Ooh, very solid," the blonde commented.

"And real."

"I don't know about that..."

"Well, compare them to his," Frank suggested, pointing at Alex.

Alex looked between the two with furrowed brows. "I'm not involved with this."

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Izzie teased, and Norah gave him a sharp nudge for him to step forward. Alex sighed and lifted his scrub top while Izzie put one hand on each guy's chest to test the 'realness' of Frank's pec implants.

"This..." Mark spoke up at the door, staring at the interns with a horrid look on his face. "This is why I don't work with interns." He immediately turned and left; Norah burst out laughing.

"You think we scared him off?" Izzie wondered.

"I think he'll be having nightmares for a while," Norah chuckled.

❦ ❦ ❦

"NORAH?" GEORGE CALLED out as he saw the brunette walking past him.

Norah frowned at the sight of his figure standing aimlessly in the middle of the cafeteria. He had sheets of paper in his hands, and his face had gone quite pale. "Yeah, George?"

"I... I need you to... Um..." he handed his father's test results to her. She looked through the papers and flipped to the next page, then the next again. The results were not good news, and George did not know how to deliver it to his family-not alone, at least. "Can you, uh..."

"Yeah. Yes, of course," she said and lifted her head back to him. "Do you wanna do it... now?"

He nodded. The pair made their way away from the cafeteria and to George's father's room, where both his brothers were playing cards. "We've been waiting here forever," said Jerry as he saw his brother entering the room. "Where's the doctor?"

"Dr Webber will be here in a minute," George informed, trying his best to put on a non-expressive face.

"They don't tell you anything, huh?" Ronny taunted. "Not until you're a real doctor..."

George's face had gone pale, and he was gritting his teeth. "Hey, George is a real doctor," Norah defended her friend. "He is one of the best in our class, too. He is quick, smart, sharp-he will be a bloody fantastic surgeon one day."

George nodded quietly next to her. "Yeah, I just... I'm not dad's doctor."

Mr O'Malley noticed an odd look on his son's face. "What is it, Georgie?" he asked.

"Let's just wait for Dr Webber."

The man on the bed had a conflicted and worried look on his face. He had a crease on his forehead, and his hopeful eyes stared at his son was noticed by Norah.

"I think he's expecting you to tell him," she whispered. "Webber is coming, but your dad wants to hear it from you. He wants the news coming from his son."

George shook his head slightly, clenching his jaw tight. "George, you are a brilliant surgeon. You can do this," Norah assured. "And, I'll be right here if you... can't."

"What's with all the whispering?" Mr O'Malley questioned.

George lifted his head to his father and brothers; he gulped and took a deep breath. "The biopsy results were abnormal," he informed.

"Is abnormal bad or just different?" Mr O'Malley queried, but George stood frozen on his spot. "Georgie?"

George was fighting back his tears, trying hard not to break down in front of his family as he slowly turned to Norah for help; she nodded softly. "Mr O'Malley..." she spoke up as she walked closer to the patient on the bed, "You have cancer... in your oesophagus, which has spread to your stomach. We'll be scheduling an operation to remove it. Then, you'll have to undergo chemo and radiation... I'm sorry."

The man stared back at her as the joy slowly faded from his eyes; the room fell silent.

And then, George ran out of the room. "George-" Norah called after him, but he was already gone. She turned back to the three other men in the room. "I'm gonna... go after him. Please get me if you need anything." After the brothers had nodded, she sprinted out to catch up to George.

She had found him sitting alone in the stairwell, expressionless and numb. She sighed and sat down next to him as he stared out the window into the setting sun.

"George?"

"I'm gonna schedule the operation for this week," George stated. "It's stage 3 metastatic cancer. And my brothers are..." he shook his head weakly, "I just can't-I can't deal with any of it."

Norah placed an arm over his shoulder. "How are you holding up?"

"I-I don't know," he sighed. "I spent