S6 EP22

A FUNDRAISING GALA WAS exhausting to attend. Not only did one have to maintain a smile when greeting guests and potential donors, but Norah also disliked heels, it made her feet sore.

With a grin that made her face stiffen and a second-or third-tequila in her hand, she chatted up with one of the guests from... Australia? She couldn't remember; at the same time eyeing the event to look for her brother.

Timothy had just gotten a group of investors in bright moods, a toast of champagne for their night. He was a social person most of the time, but entertaining groups after groups were making him feel wearied.

Out of the corner of his eye, he found his sister sipping on her drink while nodding with something the man in front of her said.

"Smile and nod, Tim," Norah had advised when they first arrived, "And then we get the hell out of here."

The siblings met eyes and wrapped up their conversations, before heading towards each other. Norah looked amused when Timothy looked like he was on the verge of screaming.

"What's up with you?" she cocked a brow at her.

"The group I was talking to? They're interested... in me," he cringed, "All of them-that's a group of five, you know? Oh my fucking god..."

She snorted while he looked petrified, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Let's get out of here," she suggested.

"Escape plan...?"

"Plan A. I'll meet you at your car."

❦ ❦ ❦

"THIS WHOLE WALL WILL be windows so we can take advantage of the view," Derek explained, gesturing his hand on top of a blueprint spread on top of a desk.

Mark and Owen stood on either side of him as they inputted ideas and suggestions. "Have you broken ground yet?" the ginger queried, bringing his drink to his mouth.

"The day I was named chief," Derek replied.

Meredith walked into the quiet room where only the sound of papers flipping could be heard. She stared at the three men in the room, looking at her husband in the middle.

"You know, at my parties, we drink beer and dance on tables," she voiced out, gaining the attention of all three of them.

Derek raised a brow at his wife, "Are you insulting my party?"

"It's getting kind of lame out there," she admitted.

He sighed and turned to both of the other men, picking up his glass of drink from the desk. "Duty calls." The three of them left the room one after another to join the 'party' in the living room.

❦

DEREK WANDERED OVER to the kitchen and got himself a refill. Cristina was sitting in the kitchen and taking first dibs on every serving tray before it went out to everyone else.

With a new drink in his hand, he noticed that his party, indeed, looked lame.

He saw some flashing lights from outside, watched as a car pulled up not far from their place. His eyes widened when he recognised the vehicle and quickly headed to the front door, pulling it wide open.

"Hey, you're back, and you made it," he grinned at Norah then Timothy who were both walking towards the porch. "How was the gala?"

"Boring, too posh, not for us," Norah replied, stepping up the porch, "We fled, actually."

"Aunt A and Uncle M are gonna be so fucking mad at us... but who cares?" Timothy added with a shrug, "Hey, Shepherd, do you know where's Lexie?"

"In the living room, most likely..." he thought for a second, "Hey, Tim, any chance you can pop up some entertainment?" The younger man raised a brow at him. "Well, you seem like a fun person to take lead."

Timothy snorted, "Sure, leave it to me." He shot a cheeky grin to his sister before heading into the crowd of people.

"And you look great in a suit, honestly. Interesting shoe choice, though," Derek pointed out. Norah looked down at the pair of Converse, pairing with the sage green pantsuit she was wearing. It looked fine.

Well, anything looks fine when you're hot. Reality sucks.

"Heels are trash," she deadpanned, heading towards the kitchen, "Also, you should stop checking me out, your wife might kill me."

Derek frowned at her. "Hey-I was not checking you out!" he defended himself and she burst into cackles.

"I know, I know, but it's brilliant seeing you all flustered," she grinned and took a margarita from one of the servers who walked past her.

"How many had you had to drink?"

"I was at a gala-the only thing to do is to drink," she smirked and he shook his head. "I'll be in the kitchen."

"Hard stuff's at the top shelf."

"Ah, cheers, and that's why you're one of my favourite people."

❦ ❦ ❦

TIMOTHY HAD CLEARED out a table at the side of the living room and laid out glasses of water into a triangular shape. More people were gathering around him as the chatters went down. He smirked to himself, knowing that he would soon lift the mood of this party.

"Come on, gather 'round. Who's playing?" he called out and several people volunteered. "Let's place bets."

Jackson, April and Reed stood at the corner of the living room. Jackson was helping himself with everything that was being served; April held her glass of wine securely in her hand, silently eyeing the growing crowd; Reed had her eyes glued on a certain someone from across the room.

"I'm going in," Reed spoke the moment she saw Kirian finishing up his conversation with Mark.

"No, you can't. It's inappropriate," April frowned at her friend like she was insane. "This is the chief's house. Right, Jackson?" she lifted her eyes to him, hoping that he would take her side.

Jackson turned his head to her while chewing on some tarts. "No. Go ahead, girl," he spoke through a mouthful, "Get yours."

Reed nodded and walked away from the two of them with a smirk forming on her face. April smacked him on his chest and he yelped.

"What?"

"Norah's gonna kill you," April deadpanned, her eyes flying wide when she looked over his shoulder.

"They've broken up, haven't they?" Jackson shrugged as he laid the toothpicks aside. "Besides, she's in some... fundraising gala, isn't she?"

"Then who's the brunette pouring herself a glass of whisky in the kitchen?"

Jackson furrowed his brows and followed April's gaze towards the kitchen. "Oh, crap..." he gulped, "She is gonna kill me. I'm dying here tonight, April."

She merely flicked him on the forehead and he hissed in pain.

❦

KIRIAN WAS JUST WRAPPING up his conversation with Mark about their surgery earlier that day when Reed cut in, bumping the younger man away. He refrained his itch from cursing at her.

"Dr Sloan, I just wanted to say that your work today with Dr Shepherd on that acoustic neuroma was amazing," Reed stated in a flirty tone while Mark lowered his gaze to her, "I was... inspired."

Kirian cringed at the flirtatious voice. He shifted his gaze to Jace and Nina who both had disgusted looks on their faces; the former's eyes enlarging as he nudged his head towards the doorframe.

Kirian followed Jace's gaze to where he saw Norah talking to one of the younger residents; an evil but worth it plan lit a bulb above his head.

"Hey, Lawrence!" he called out, making sure his voice was loud and clear.

People turned their heads curiously towards the sound. Lexie patted Timothy on the shoulder and he lifted his head from the money that he was counting and smirked amusedly at the show; Norah glanced over from her shoulder and saw Kirian gesturing her over.

Mark's attention followed the crowd, his gaze immediately landing on the woman in a sage green pantsuit. If it was possible for someone to physically feel their pupils dilating, it would definitely be him.

The way she had one hand slipped into her pocket while the other held a glass of liquor similar to his. The way she walked flawlessly towards the other man who was standing less than six feet away from him. The way the pair of hazels were burning into his blues while he watched her stride across the living room...

It felt like the time had stopped for them; two lovers, one gaze-an eruption of emotions and feelings.

"Beer pong, you in?" Kirian asked, clinking his glass with hers.

"Sure, why not?" Norah replied without hesitating.

Mark could still feel the searing gaze when she walked past him, as though he was being branded by her. He did not present his feelings on the outside, because he would have had a fist through the wall.

"You, uh, need another drink," he told the woman who was still batting her eyes at him, "Hey, Rook, mind getting, um... her a drink?"

"Oh, she could get herself a drink," Kirian lifted his head from the betting crowd, Jace snickering under his arm.

"Or... whore herself a drink," Nina added with an innocent shrug. The three of them burst into laughter when Reed stomped away to Jackson and April, only to find them sniggering at her, too.

Norah watched as Mark headed away from the living room, his hand tightening around his glass of scotch. She turned her gaze towards her three ex-interns, who were all grinning back at her.

She shook her head at them, a half-smile pulling on the corner of her mouth.

I raised them well. Too well.

❦ ❦ ❦

MARK STARED AT HER, watching her play some high-school-frat-party game with the group of residents. He watched as she drank her fourth cup of beer, squinting every time at the bitterness of it. The cheers and claps remained loud even though they had been playing for at least two hours.

How did it feel to have a pit of unspoken words and unresolved feelings stuck at the front of your chest?

It felt like an inflating bubble within yourself that was causing your mind to lose its sanity.

It was the gritting teeth seeing that she was having much fun from afar, the seething flames when he noticed many people checking her out, the stinging ache realising she was smiling and he was falling.

It felt like the world was dull and she was the only vibrant touch of hue, yet he was a coward who was too afraid to walk up to it. Who knows if a touch might colourise his entire world again?

That was when he realised he needed her in his life.

When she walked away from the group of residents and headed towards the kitchen, his legs moved as well. However, he had only taken a few steps before a person around his height had blocked him from going on.

Timothy sighed heavily. "Look, Sloan, I respect you a lot, and I look up look up to you, really," the younger man stated, lifting his head to meet the blue eyes, "But family comes first, you know? Nor and I... We always have each other to keep us strong. So, even though I'm the little brother, I'm not letting anyone hurt her. And you might've broken her, did you know, by threatening to leave?"

"I-I did not threaten to leave," Mark claimed.

"Recall your words, Sloan. Who was the one who said something along the lines of, if Callie told me correctly, 'I'll leave in the morning'?" Timothy sighed and Mark frowned, knowing exactly who had said it that night. "You might not have meant it that way, but she was in an emotional wreckage... which 'leave' is the only word she would've processed. We're people with abandonment issues... See what you've done?

"So, she needs time to put herself back together. And when she does, if you ever cared about her, you'll leave her alone," Timothy resumed and Mark stared back at him, "Because she's fragile, and she is gonna break again. And trust me, you don't want it to be your fault."

Mark clenched his jaw hard and took in a deep breath, staring at the younger man who sighed, "Maybe it was not your fault, you know? But I'm not Nor and I pick sides. And between you and her? I think it's an obvious answer."

Timothy exhaled heavily, clinking their glasses. "So I'm telling you here and now, Sloan, leave her alone."

He was not going to, however, because he knew that needed her, just as much as she needed him.

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH LIKED PARTIES IF and only if she knew most of the guests there; she refused to attend those where she knew no one except the host.

Timothy, however, was the opposite of her. He was the one who hosted parties and invited almost everyone when they were younger.

To him, it was energising; to her, it was draining.

"Social battery running low?" he whispered to her.

"I've drunk three tequilas, one margarita, seven beers from the game and two glasses of whisky," she replied expressionlessly, "I'll probably faint in the morning."

"Four tequilas, actually," he corrected with a smile and took the empty glass away from her hand. "You live upstairs, time to retreat into quietness," he shooed her, "Oh, and the fainting? You live with a house full of fucking doctors. You'll be fine."

Norah huffed and wished the group a round of goodnights and goodbyes, before leaving the living room and climbing up the stairs. The first room on the right was hers; Derek had offered her to move into Izzie's old room, which she had accepted gladly.

She kicked off her shoes and took off her blazer, setting it over the chair. She was not drunk; her unusually high alcohol tolerance was something she sometimes disliked.

She was just exhausted, not physically though-mentally.

Her mind seemed to be empty nowadays. When she had nothing to overthink about, she would stare at the ceiling until she drifted off to sleep... which did not happen, again.

She stood in front of the dresser, huffing in displeasure as she pulled open the drawer. The white bottle sat in the corner of the drawer. It had been sitting there for a week now, but the remembrance of the last time she consumed sleeping pills prevented her from opening its seal.

The door to her room opened behind her and she quickly pushed the drawer shut, as though she had been caught red-handed in a crime. The giggles and chatters coming from downstairs seemed to have been magnified.

"Wrong room, go to another," she stated bluntly.

She heard the door closing again, followed by the clicking of its lock. But before she could turn around, she felt a body pressing firmly against her back. The mix of scotch and cologne; his familiar scent was filling her lungs.

The reason he could muster up the nerve to do so was a nudge from the alcohol in his system. He gently moved her hair aside and was grazing his lips against the cold of her nape, breathing in sharply; her familiar scent was driving him insane.

"Please don't do that..."

"I am miserable," he exhaled, moving his head towards the side of her neck. As much as her body protested, she was about to melt into him, her head already leaning backwards on his shoulder while his wet kisses trailed her neck. "And we need to talk."

"I can't talk with you..." she fought back a sound when he hovered at the sweet spot on her neck, "...doing that-Mark."

He finally lifted his head back up and she turned around facing him. The grey suit looked devilishly handsome on his figure; it was like drowning in hellfire.

Nobody spoke, even when they were finally in front of each other, nobody knew what to say nor how to start.

In the long silence, they stood in the close gap between them, staring at each other. It felt like they were submerging themselves in a wave of feelings. To him, he wanted nothing more than to hold her as his; to her, she still had the fresh guilt stuck in her chest.

"I'm giving you an out."

He was completely taken aback by her words while she stared back at him. Another moment of quietness, before he slowly asked, "Do you want me to... take it?"

"Do you want to?" she asked back.

Mark moved his mouth but no words were voicing out. He was frustrated, staring deeply into both her eyes. Glistering and strained; hazel with lines of red.

"I know it's my fault things happened... and I've waited for you to say something-even yell at me for all I care-but you... avoided me," she furrowed her brows, "Even when I stood right in front of you, you didn't say a thing. So I assumed that... you want nothing more to do with me..."

More assumptions.

None of her words was true, it was the opposite, actually. He was not avoiding her, he did not know how to face her. He could not say a thing because the emotions had overtaken his speech. But above all, he feared losing her for good.

Another long moment of silence and she scoffed lightly, shaking her head weakly at the man standing in front of her. "God damn it, Mark-speak."

"I'm afraid to speak, okay?" he finally admitted through a strangled voice, "I'm terrified, literally, because I can't bear to see you breaking down again," he shut his eyes, shaking his head, "I went back to our apartment that night... and all your things were gone. I didn't even know when, and you wouldn't return my calls.

"When you were missing the other morning... did you know how fucking scared I was?" his words were trembling as he fought back the dampness in his eyes, "And for days... I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren't there next to me, you weren't there lying on my chest. You weren't there... Why?"

"I-I cracked... that night, I was... back in New York," she stated numbly, "I was emotionally and mentally vulnerable in front of you, and... the next thing you said was y-you were gonna leave."

"But you left."

"Because I didn't want to be the one that gets left," she snapped before shaking her head. "Again," she added frailly. "You can take the out, and we can act like... We can return to our lives before we knew each other."

He stared at her blankly as her words circled his head. "Y-You want me to... forget everything that happened between us?" he questioned in disbelief while she dropped her head, "You would do that? Forget about us?"

She swallowed hard as her words restrained inside her throat, the conflicted look on her face sinking in his mind. "I would... if it meant I'll never feel like this ever again."

"Like what?"

She stared into his eyes, the blue ones glistering. "I have a bottle of sleeping pills in the drawer, and the last time I used it was to... I-I tried to..." she trailed off and shook her head, "Never mind."

He could feel his heart tearing into two. She tried to overdose herself; he knew, but she did not know that he knew.

"I won't take the out. I'll never take it," he answered surely, "O-Our story had just started, and there's no way I'm gonna let you put a stop to it, you hear me? You take however long you want, but I'm still gonna wait for you. I promise that I'll be there when you're ready."

She smiled, briefly, slowly-sadly.

"But to answer your question, Mark, I do want you to take it," she spoke and he shook his head, "Because I am a broken toy that needs fixing, and you... I know we said we'd be complicated together, but you didn't sign up for this complexity."

"I want all of you."

"There's a part of me I can't erase no matter how much I want to. A part I don't want you to know."

Except I do know, Laurie.

"You're pushing me away, aren't you?"

"Maybe I am... Maybe it's for the best."

He could feel them falling apart, slowly; the pain was creeping up his skin, rapidly, shooting in his veins.

He cupped her face; she stiffened at first, but slowly