S7 EP3

TIMOTHY THRASHED AND turned on the bed; the flashes of bright lights, loud bangs, and crimson red blood spiralled in his mind.

It was as though he could see the gun pointing at him again, the contraction of the muscle, pulling the trigger-BANG.

His pillow was wet, as well as his shirt; both soaked in his sweat.

He staggered into the bathroom, splashing the cold water on his face as he tried to calm his head.

He was at his apartment, he was safe, yet the nightmares had rarely died down since the shooting.

It was still haunting him alive and he had no idea what to do about it.

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH PRESSED DOWN the lever of the toaster before grabbing a clean glass from the racks. She poured herself a cold glass of milk while her foot tapped to the beats of the music in her earphones.

The sun had barely started to rise and she could see the lights turning on in houses after houses through the window. The morning was a cool one since it had rained the day before.

She was lightly humming to the music she was listening to when she felt something hitting her on the back. Turning around, she saw Derek walking into the kitchen and the candy on the floor that he had thrown at her.

She took off one side of her earphones and raised a brow at him while gulping down her milk. "I asked: Why are you wearing a jacket?" he queried again.

"I just came back from a run," she stated the obvious, gesturing at the polyester running jacket that she was wearing. "Morning runs are healthy, and recommended by my therapist."

He furrowed his brows at her and peered at the wall clock, "At five in the morning...? Again?"

"Hey, you don't get to judge me, Mr Reckless Endangerment," she scoffed, rinsing the glass under the cold running water.

"It's Dr Reck-never mind."

Norah snorted while he walked over to the kitchen and set the coffee pot to boil. She spread jam onto a slice of toast then margarine onto another; he crept up from behind in an attempt to steal back a slice, but she smacked his hand away when his phone rang. He sank back into his seat and settled for his coffee while setting his phone to silent.

"What about you? Why are you up at five, this time?" she asked, chomping on her remaining slice of toast.

"Cristina is in my bed."

Cristina had been frequently sleeping over when Owen had to work late at the hospital. Norah was often awake when she heard the shuffling outside her room, then the creaking of the door opening.

"She was in mine two days ago," she stated, "She had a PTSD episode, Derek. Let her sleep with your wife."

Cristina having a full-on meltdown inside the OR two weeks ago was not something anyone saw coming, and she had been noticeably jumpier and more paranoid ever since that day.

"You know, you're the third person in your marriage," Norah smirked.

"Trust me, I do know," Derek sighed before frowning at her, "Since when do you eat the crusts of your bread slices?"

She glanced down at her half-eaten jam toast and swallowed the bite in her mouth. "I was running for at least an hour. I'm hungry, it's normal."

"Wait, so you went for a run at four in the morning?"

"Three, actually," she corrected with a shrug, "The neighbourhood is rather peaceful at night, did you know that?"

He set down his mug of coffee and stared at her with a serious and worried look on his face. "No, I don't know that, because I'm not insane and I don't go for a run at three a.m."

"Alright, fine. I couldn't sleep," she scowled at him, "Now, stop giving me those judge-y eyes, Mr Reckless Endangerment."

He let out an offended scoff, "Dr!"

❦ ❦ ❦

"SHE HAS THAT LOOK ON her face because the last time someone walked into this hospital looking for Dr Shepherd without an appointment, he shot him."

"Mark!" Amelia squealed and immediately dove in for a hug, Mark returning her hug tightly. "Oh my god!"

"Hi, Amy," Mark greeted when they parted from the hug.

"You still look hot," she commented and he started to stammer on his words while trying his best to put on a grinning face.

"And you, uh, look a lot more grown-up... than when I last saw you," he replied awkwardly with a smile plastered across her face.

"You can say 'hot', you know?" she snorted, "'Cause I am. I'm hot."

"No, I can't, because in my mind, you're still Derek's twelve-year-old sister." He rounded the corner of the nurses' station and she turned around, following him.

"Oh my god, is that-" Amelia narrowed her eyes at the resident who just came out of the elevators, "Norah? Hey, Norah!"

To say Mark was shocked would be an understatement. His eyes went wide when Amelia waved frantically at the resident who had the most surprised look and the largest smile on her face when she walked towards them. He cleared his throat awkwardly when they gave each other a big hug.

"Damn, you don't look like the sixteen-year-old kid anymore," Amelia grinned, scanning Norah from head to toe while the latter shot her an unamused look.

"I wasn't sixteen!"

"You two know each other?" Mark queried, though it felt weird to interject them.

"Too long of a story to tell," Norah mumbled back, "So Amelia, what are you doing in Seattle?"

"Uh, Derek's an ass who won't return my calls," she replied and sighed, "Derek's an ass who got shot and won't return my calls, so I brought him a present... or a bribe... or a peace offering-whatever. I brought him that." She gestured to the man standing at the waiting area who gave them a wave when they turned to him.

"You brought him Brett Favre?"

"No," Amelia grinned at the two of them who were raising their brows at her, "I brought him a brain tumor."

While Mark still had a confused and questioning on his face, Norah had bent towards the nurse at the station. "Could you page Dr Shepherd, stat?" she requested, "Thanks."

He leaned against the station beside her, watching her pointedly while her face lit up at the mention of a possible brain tumor. When she eventually turned her head to him, he returned her with a guilty smile.

Amelia narrowed her eyes at their brief and wordless interaction, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"Amy?"

"Well, if you'd pick up the damn phone, I wouldn't have to stalk you," Amelia stated while an annoyed-looking Derek walked over to them, along with Meredith and Cristina by his sides.

"The call you ignored this morning was your sister's, wasn't it?" Norah added and he scowled at her.

"Sister?" Meredith queried, her eyes widening.

"Meredith, Cristina, this is Amy."

"Amelia. He's the only one who gets to call me Amy," Amelia corrected and reached a hand out towards the stunned resident, "Um, nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise."

"Amy-" She shot Mark a glare and he quickly corrected himself, "Amelia, is also a neurosurgeon."

"Another one?" Cristina had the same surprised look as Meredith. "You Shepherds grow them like weeds."

Norah snorted at the comment and Derek glared at her. Before anyone could say something else, a pager went off and five heads dropped towards their waistband. Norah frowned as she picked her pager up, her eyes widening by the second.

"Crap, crap, crap, crap..." she mumbled continuously when the page she got was from her therapist, whose session she had missed this morning. "I'm so dead, this time..."

She excused herself, striding a few steps towards the elevators before turning back, "Amelia, I'll... catch up with you later. Bye!"

When the brunette scurried off, Meredith nudged her husband. "That's the appropriate way to greet your sister," she whispered.

Derek groaned in frustration at his wife, his sister, his best resident, and one of his best friends who could not keep his eyes off his other.

❦ ❦ ❦

"SO, KAREV, HOW OLD were you your first time?" Jackson queried as he walked up to the nurses' station where the rest of the fourth-year residents gathered.

"Fifteen. School nurse, back of her car," Alex replied smugly, "When I was sixteen, she taught me how to drive that same car."

Meredith let out a soft laugh before joining in their conversation. "Sophomore in high school, Paul Waxman, had absolutely no idea what he was doing," she stated.

"Junior prom, Sarah Richardson and Penny Caraway-together," Jackson smirked. The residents gave him impressed looks except for April who looked uncomfortable in their topic of discussion; Alex whistling lowly at him. "I knew exactly what I was doing."

"Nineteen," Cristina joined in, "I was very focused on my studies. It was my Chem TA. He was a whole head shorter than me, but man, he was smart."

"I was eighteen," Norah added next, "I had the choice between the popular lad every girl fawned over, the dark-haired theatre kid, or the mad-rich school jock."

"Ooh, tell me you chose the jock."

"Nah, I'd go with the theatre kid."
"Go with the popular guy and see the chicks getting jealous."

"Pfft, I chose the hottest girl from Eng Lit," she smirked and everyone nodded impressively at her, "Totally did not regret a single minute."

Alex frowned when April attempted to sneak away from their conversation. Jackson, too, had noticed her departure and called her back, "Hey, April."

"I'm not talking about this," she stated firmly, "It was a private... private memory."

"What happened, did the guy die?" Alex guessed and Meredith gave him an unamused scowl.

"Oh, did it last, like, three seconds, so you don't know if it counted?"

"No," April claimed but the residents shared an unbelieving look. She threw her hands in the air as she tried to elaborate, "It was on the beach at sunset... It was beautiful."

"Sunset? Really?" Jackson raised a brow at her while Norah furrowed in confusion. "Weren't... Weren't there people there?"

"Oh, on the beach? Man, you get sand up in places you don't want to get sand," Cristina noted.

"Mosquitoes," Alex added while the other snorted a laugh. When April had a disturbed and pondering look on her face, he came to a conclusion and clapped his hand together. "Ha! You're a virgin!"

"No, I'm not," April quickly defended herself.

"Oh my god. Do it. Do it. Do it to her right now," Cristina laughed and nudged the resident next to her, "Alex, go deflower her. Do it. Do it."

"It was... It was on the beach at sunset, okay?" April's face was starting to turn into a shade of light scarlet at the laughs of the residents.

"Alright, hey, hey. Come on now, leave her alone," Norah spoke up, pressing down a smile of her own.

"April, the beach at sunset is very nice," Meredith told the resident who wanted nothing more than to run out of the building or stuff her head into a sandpit to hide away from the embarrassment.

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH STARED AT HER watch, watching the hand ticking and ticking and ticking...

She had one arm behind her head since the pillows in the on-call rooms were too flat for her liking. She rolled in the dark, again, shutting her eyes in the quietness.

It was a perfect condition to sleep in-no light, no noise, no thoughts fogging her mind-yet she could not fall asleep. She had only slept for three hours the previous night, and was now up for at least fifteen hours but her eyes refused to shut.

She peeked at her watch again, telling her that she had been lying on the bed for nearly two hours now. It was frustrating, really, even the ticking clock by her nightstand was not helping. It had not been much help since roughly three months ago.

The rhythm was just too slow.

After tossing and turning for another ten minutes, her pager went off and she squinted at the 9-1-1 page to the OR. She sat up in resentment and seized her white coat from the edge of the bed, before heading out of the room.

Fuck sleep.

❦

NORAH PUSHED OPEN THE door into the scrub room where Amelia was currently scrubbing out. The former raised a brow when she quickly grabbed the soap and started scrubbing. She looked into the OR to try to observe where Derek was halfway through the procedure.

Amelia was quiet next to her, and she could feel the tenseness radiating in the air.

"Why does he look pissed?" Norah queried, breaking the silence.

Amelia sighed heavily before admitting, "I called Cristina Yang a dud."

The resident turned her head to the older woman, her eyebrows raised high. "You do know that Cristina-"

"-saved Derek? Yeah, that's why I was kicked out."

"Oh," Norah nodded while putting her arms under the running water, "Well, sucks to be you."

Amelia snapped her head to the resident with furrowed brows. "You have the same humour. I hate it," she commented with a light scoff.

Norah snorted back at her, "Eyes up, Amy."

❦ ❦ ❦

THE RESIDENTS GATHERED at Joe's bar, squeezing into one table while they drank and chat with each other. "Come on. Just admit it," Alex told April, "You're still a virgin."

"Hey, there's no shame in it," Jackson added but when April shot him a 'Really?' look, he shook his head. "No, there's shame."

"A lot of shame," Alex agreed, "Tell her, Mer, Norah."

The brunette looked up from the glass of whisky in her hand, not interested in joining that particular conversation when April was sending them death glares.

"I, um..." Meredith trailed off, "I was gonna say something, and then I forgot to stop drinking. Has anybody seen Cristina?"

Lexie joined them with a loud sigh as she sat next to Meredith. "So today only one person looked at me like a psycho who might run down the hall naked, and Dr Bailey screamed like a little bitch baby over a spider, so I'm feeling pretty good, you know, for a crazy person."

"Well, nobody gives a crap if you're crazy," Jackson shrugged as he peeled the shell off the peanut, "We're all crazy."

"Yeah, look at April. She's still a virgin," Alex laughed.

"Yeah, well, Tim gives a crap, okay?" Lexie groaned and Norah raised a curious brow at her. "He watches me like I'm a menace to myself and everyone around me. Wait-you're still a virgin?" she narrowed her eyes at April who finally had enough of it.

"Stop. Okay? Just stop," she snapped at the five of them, "I'm a virgin, yes. So what? It's not something I talk about, okay? We all have things we don't talk about."

She gripped her drink in her hand before turning to the man next to her, "Alex, you've been jumpy whenever a tray drops anywhere for, like, a month, but I never said anything because it's none of my business. And, Jackson, you wake up every night screaming because you have nightmares. And, Meredith, you don't talk about Cristina because you're afraid she's never gonna be the same Cristina again.

She turned to the younger resident in front of her, "And, Lexie-for god sake, Timothy never thought you were a psycho. He loves you. That's why he watches you and makes sure you're okay to work every day."

"Part of it is my fault," Norah admitted as she gulped down her drink, "I'm the psycho sister who moves across the country when something happens. He's just afraid of losing you."

"And Mark's afraid of losing you," April snapped at her when she was caught off guard. "He stares at you, all the time, and I'm almost certain that you know that, too. You're the perfect couple that everyone in the hospital was looking forward to as the next McDreamys," she exposed and Meredith gave her a weird look.

"But you're preventing yourself from accepting his love, hoping that you wouldn't hurt more if in any godly way that you'll lose him. But guess what? You're only losing him by pushing him away, hurting both of you in the process-isn't that just hypocritical?"

Norah blinked at her and the table had gone quiet. "Um... Wow? I'm aware that I'm a hypocrite, but you didn't have to call me out like that, April," she stared at the other woman disturbingly while the latter took a deep breath.

"I am a 28-year-old virgin, mainly because I wanted my first time to be special, and then I waited too long, and partially because I'm pretty sure guys find me annoying. I'm a virgin. That doesn't make it drinks conversation. We all have stuff we don't talk about."

When she downed her drink stressfully in one go, the group remained silent, glancing at each other while they sipped on their drinks.

Meredith smirked at her, "Oh, April. I'm liking you more and more."

"Remind me to never cross you," Norah added grimly before fishing out her phone that has just rung. She narrowed her eyes at the message before getting up from her seat. "I gotta go. See you lot tomorrow."

❦ ❦ ❦

LEXIE RANG THE DOORBELL to Timothy's apartment, only to be greeted by the smell of booze, just as she did for the past two months now. She furrowed her brows when he let her in, staring at the half-empty bottle by the kitchen island.

"You're drinking again?" she asked unamusingly and he merely nodded back in response.

She knew that he changed since the shooting, everyone changed. But she also knew that he refused to acknowledge his change, still trying to convince himself that everything was just fine even though they were not.

"Why are you drinking?"

"My head hurts, Lex," he admitted.

"Then stop drinking!"

"No-" he stopped her hand that was trying to close the bottle cap, "My mind's running wild and uh, the bourbon is the only thing helping me to fucking stop it."

She really wanted to help him, because she recognised this downfall, knowing the outcome of it; she recognised it from her alcoholic father.

She seized the bottle away from his grip, draining the rest of it down the content down the sink. His head perked up at once, a frown settling on his face while he attempted to stop her.

"Lexie, please, just-"

"Just what?" she scoffed at him, "Just what, Tim? You're trying so hard to hold yourself together, but you're broken. We both know that, but you're never gonna acknowledge it."

He was staring at the liquid circling down the drain, his mind was not as foggy as it did a minute ago. All the loud noises were flowing back in, and he hated it. But above all, he hated for her to see him like this.

"I am holding myself together," he spoke lowly, "And I'm not broken, whatever that fucking means. I am holding myself together, nothing is broken in me!"

"I can't... I can't do this, with you not able to e-even look at me when I mention it."

There was a long, eerie silence where he went through her words time after time, convincing himself that he had misheard her. But there was nothing to convince-it was as clear as crystal.

"You can't... do this anymore?" he asked, his voice holding on to a certain faith that slowly slipped away from his words.

When his eyes finally met hers, she could tell that behind those pair of glimmering eyes, the soul behind it was no longer the cheeky smile; the little boy had retreated into a safe place but he refused to acknowledge it.

She stood there, in front of him for a long moment, before nodding once. "Yeah," she finally spoke, "I can't, Tim. I... Our relationsh-"

"Don't finish it," he