S7 EP17

NORAH WATCHED MARK messing up his attempt of following a recipe online to make breakfast. "Mark, love, it's salt. You're holding sugar," she pointed out, tossing more chips into her mouth.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and quickly swapped the sugar in his hand with the salt shaker in front of him. "Why're you eating chips for breakfast?" he queried while letting the pan sizzle.

"You're cutting the bread like you're performing a rhinoplasty or something," she deadpanned, "You know, I'm kinda fine with the bread crusts now if there's enough sour cream to go with it."

"I thought you prefer barbeque sauce over sour cream?"

"Well, to be fair, I didn't like bread crusts, either," she shrugged, munching on her chips, "But I guess 'negative negative equals positive', aye?"

He raised a curious brow at her before snatching the bag of chips away from her hand. "No chips for breakfast."

"Yeah, yeah... Dad," she grumbled, and he smirked. "We should get Tim over sometimes since he's often over at Callie and Arizona's place anyways."

Mark pondered on the suggestion before nodding in agreement.

He carefully sliced the crusts off the sandwich he had just made. It seemed to be the only thing he was best in making-the perfect sandwich that had all the right amount of ingredients to her liking.

Norah's eyes widened as she sat up on her seat. "Hold on, crap-did we get anything for the baby shower?"

He lifted his head to her with his mouth gaped open. His eyebrows furrowed as he lost his words, thinking hard, only to come up with nothing. "Uh... Did, um, did we...?"

"Oh god, this is bad," she exhaled, biting down on the sandwich while he nodded in agreement.

"Would they notice if we didn't bring anything?" he queried, and she narrowed her eyes at him and his suggestion.

"I... I don't think so," she admitted after a moment of thought. She took another bite of the sandwich before speaking through a mouthful, "And you are horrible for even coming up with that. That's my niece or nephew we're talking about!"

"Uh-uh, don't talk with your mouthful," he grinned, and she threatened to shove a pickle down his throat. "But you love me for my horribleness, hm?"

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him, swallowing down the bite of the sandwich. "Mark?"

"Yes, Laurie?" he leaned against the island, gently caressing her cheek.

"I love you," she spoke, and he leaned down to press a kiss on the side of her neck.

He turned his head to her ear. "I love you more." She grinned and lifted his head from her neck, the both of them resting their foreheads against each other.

"Mark?"

"Yes, Laurie?"

"The bacon is turning black."

"Oh, damn-"

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH STOOD IN THE room with Meredith, Derek and Webber as they checked on Adele, whom Webber asked for a consult from Derek almost a month ago. The brunette was tapping her pen on the clipboard with a checklist and additional notes in her hand while Derek examined Adele.

"When are the two of you finally getting married?" Adele asked the couple in the room. Norah lifted her eyes from the clipboard in her hand as she gave both Derek and Webber a worried look.

Webber frowned a bit at his wife before composing his facial expression to a neutral one. "Um... Meredith and Derek already got married, honey. Remember?"

"I know that. They wrote on a Post-It," she snapped, "I meant a real wedding, in a church with a white dress." She shot her husband an annoyed look, her eyes narrowed, "This isn't Alzheimer's, Richard."

"Adele, the tests we ran last month showed findings consistent with early-onset Alzheimer's," Derek informed.

"I was a nurse for thirty years, Derek. I know what Alzheimer's looks like," she replied unamusingly, "I also know that twenty percent of the people that are diagnosed with it turn out to have something else." She looked between the Neuro attending and her husband. "I don't have Alzheimer's. I don't!"

When the four surgeons excused themselves from the room, Webber had stopped Derek before he could walk off; the two residents followed their attending and halted on their spot.

"A lot of patients need time to come to terms with their diagnosis," Meredith suggested, "The same thing happened to my mother."

"We don't have time," Webber stated firmly with his hands on his hips, "Derek, we need to get Adele in on your trial right now."

"We need her consent to even consider her," Derek replied, his arms folded across his chest with an unfazed look on his face.

"Look, I'll take care of that," Webber claimed, "Don't worry."

"We don't even know if she fits the criteria, and the trial is full," the Neuro attending spoke, his tone clear and his patience running out. "Even the waiting list is full."

"I know all of that," Webber snapped, his voice raised slightly, "I also know that you'll do whatever you need to do to help my wife."

Norah's eyes widened slightly when the chief stormed off.

Something bad is gonna happen. The five words repeated in her head before she shook it off her mind when her pager beeped.

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH STALKED THE HALLS on the OB Wing until she reached the one where Callie was getting her check-up. She knocked on the door before opening it, peeking her head into the room. "Mark, you paged?"

Lucy Fields looked up curiously when the door closed, and yet another doctor was there to join them. "Okay, let me get this straight," she pointed to Arizona, "lesbian lover," she then pointed to Timothy, "baby daddy," she gestured to Mark, "emotional support," her hand landed at the resident who had just entered the room, "and this is...?"

"Baby's Aunt and child protector," Callie spoke up, and the four other surgeons turned their heads to her.

Norah glanced at the woman on the examination table with a puzzled expression on her face. "Child what? Come again?"

"You'd beat the crap out of anyone who dares touches this kid, right?" Callie asked the resident, who got slightly taken aback by her words, but she still responded with a nod.

"I mean, yeah, definitely. I'm, like, the kid's Aunt...?"

"Great!" she exclaimed with a grin, "Child protector!"

Mark snickered and draped an arm around his girlfriend. "Any possibility that you can help decorate the baby shower later?" he asked, lowering his head to her.

"So, emotional support and child protector are a thing?" Lucy queried. Timothy nodded, and the OB fellow narrowed her eyes at the couple.

"I'm a busy resident, with tons of paperwork to do thanks to the Alzheimer's trial," Norah scowled at Mark while he stared back at her with a smile plastered on his face. "But I'll stop by a while, I guess," she sighed, silently cursing those puppy-dog eyes. "And now you owe me-"

"-lots of hot, dirty sex. I know."

Norah blinked at him alarmingly while the four other surgeons in the room slowly turned their heads to the pair. She felt like punching him in the face.

"I was about to say dinner, you know, one where you don't end up burning the bloody chicken? And preferably not seasoned with sugar, too, thank you very much."

"Oh." Mark spared a brief look to the others and an amused-looking OB fellow.

"You season your chicken with sugar?!" Timothy let out a loud shriek, snapping his head to his sister and her boyfriend.

"Not on purpose," Mark smiled back at him before turning back to Norah. "Yeah, dinner works for me, too," he mumbled and planted a kiss on her neck before she ducked out from under his arm. She gave him an unamused glare before reaching for the doorknob.

Just as she was about to walk out of the room, a sound caught her attention.

The baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound had drawn her to stop at her steps. She turned her head around to the calming rhythm of a tiny heart. A small being, safe and sound as their heart beat strongly.

Tiny body. Great rhythm. It was almost miraculous.

Wonder child, she grinned to herself, glancing at the awestricken look on Timothy's face.

Mark glanced at her over his shoulder, seeing the mesmerised look on her face while she stared at the monitor. He noticed the small smile creeping up her face, and his grin only grew wider.

She'd make a wonderful mother, he thought to himself.

One day.

❦ ❦ ❦

"WHERE DO YOU WANT this?" Cristina questioned as she and Meredith carried a table into the empty room. Norah followed behind them, holding a box of decorations.

Arizona eyed them curiously, a brow raised. "What's that for?"

"Scrapbook station!" Timothy informed rather delightedly, "Here, let me." He walked over to the two residents and lifted the table from them.

"Wait, we're not having a scrapbook station," Arizona disagreed.

Mark glanced over to the younger man, who frowned at the blonde, then at his girlfriend, who had an unamused look on her face. "You heard Callie this morning. She wants us to go all out."

"Mark, this isn't a scrapbook station kind of shower," she deadpanned, but the Lawrences siblings were already quick to set up the table.

"It is, actually," Timothy spoke up with a shrug, "I mean, that's kinda what 'all out' means? With games, and..."

"Onesie decorating," Mark added, holding up a blank white onesie with his eyes glittering.

Cristina and Meredith both turned their heads to Norah, who mirrored their surprised and slightly unbelievable look.

"I have a patient," Cristina sighed out, excusing herself to leave.

"Grey?"

"I can't get over the fact that you know what onesie decorating is," Meredith returned Mark with a slightly disturbed look.

"Laurie?"

Norah shot him a smile while she set the pens aside. "Sorry, but I'm with Mer on this one."

"Well, I have lots more ideas if Callie votes on not wanting a scrapbook station," Timothy pushed the table against the wall before turning to look at Arizona, "'Cause that's what you do for the people you love."

"Oh, bite me, Tim."

"What's going on?" Callie quirked a brow at them as she walked into the room. She sighed when she noticed the tense air between the two of them. "Are you guys fighting again?"

Arizona turned her head to her girlfriend. "Did you want a scrapbook station?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. It's not a real shower if you don't get to take home a scrapbook," Callie stated matter-of-factly; Arizona caught the smirk on Timothy's face. "Ooh! We should have glitter pens!"

❦ ❦ ❦

TIMOTHY APPROACHED Lexie at the scrapbook station, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, Lex, I'm glad you came," he voiced out with a smile, "I know it's awkward and all..."

"No, you know... I-It's not... It's..." she stammered before lifting her head to him, "I'm... I'm happy for you, really." He sent her an awkward chuckle before she continued, "And, uh, plus, I'm seeing somebody else, so it's..."

Ouch. That hurt, but the forceful smile remained on his face. At that very moment, he wanted nothing more than to drown himself in a block of cement.

"Uh, alright, yeah, um... cool."

❦

AT THE ONESIE DECORATING station, Norah narrowed her eyes at the blank clothing in front of her. She was unable to decide what to do with it.

"I say he's totally gay," Lexie spoke up while squeezing the bottle of paint onto her onesie.

"Well, if he were gay, then why would he ask April out?" Meredith asked, referring to April's 'date' with Stark.

When April told Lexie, then Lexie ran her mouth out to... too many people. Upon knowing, the residents were not quite sure how to react. Norah had clapped April on the back and muttered along the line of 'Good for you', causing the latter to pale in horror as the realisation sank in.

"No straight guy waits a whole month before making a move," Lexie debated, earning several agreements amongst the residents.

"Hey, maybe he has herpes," Cristina guessed.

"Or syphilis," Norah added.

"Those wouldn't stop a guy either. I vote gay," Alex shrugged, "I just wish he was into me, then I could be in all his cool surgeries, too."

April glared at them. "He's not gay, he doesn't have herpes nor syphilis, and I'm not using him to get cool surgeries," she defended, but the others were not taking her words seriously. "We have a lot to talk about, okay?" she sighed, "He's really interesting once you get to know him."

"Which is why she's taking her pants off for him tonight."

"What?!" Everyone spoke in unison, lifting their heads from their artwork-and an untouched one-to stare at Alex, who smirked, and April, who looked beyond horrified.

"She's going to his place," he told them, "From Here to Eternity is playing on cable."

Norah's eyebrows lifted, impressed, before turning to April. "Yup... pants are definitely coming off, Kepner." Meredith and Cristina nodded in agreement, a sly smirk on both their faces.

"Nobody's pants are coming off-"

"A movie at his place? That's the definition of pants coming off," Meredith snickered, squeezing nearly the entire bottle of paint onto the onesie as her hands moved in circles.

"Virgin's a goner," Cristina cooed.

"And with an older man, too. It's very impressive," Lexie added with a saluting nod. Both Meredith and Norah exchanged a look with each other.

"I am not taking my pants off for Stark!" April's voice boomed in the room, causing the people from other tables, especially the group of gossipy nurses, to turn their heads to her. She dropped her head on the table, grumbling in embarrassment.

Norah coughed back a snort while she reached over for a bottle of glitter paint. She ended up deciding to go with something simple and appropriate, but her mind was clouded with all sorts of dark humour at that very moment. How useful.

"Oh my god, that is so ugly," Cristina voiced out, hiding her laugh at Meredith's onesie. The latter strangled the bottle of paint, causing it to spurt out all of its contents, her hand moving in circles.

"Are you still blind?" Lexie questioned concernedly at the onesie that was now thick with swirls of blue and purple paint.

Meredith lifted her onesie in the air, nodded approvingly with a wide grin on her face. "I like it. It's abstract."

"It's a dump of paint," Norah corrected.

"Aunt Mer's dump of paint."

"Check it out," Alex spoke as he lifted his onesie, which he coloured with a marker pen with a small pocket on the chest of it. "Scrubs."

Jackson had walked over to them to mumble something in Lexie's ear, causing the latter to perk up from her seat at once. "Yes, I will do a consult now," she spoke up rather loudly, and he had a grin on his face.

"You're not fooling anyone!" April yelled out as the two hurried off, but the redhead noticed the grim look on the resident who was walking over to them. "Sorry."

Timothy waved her off and eyed their artwork, even though he had a pang of flames in his chest. "See this," Norah spoke up, trying to turn her brother's focus away.

"'Aunt's favourite wonder child'?" he read out with narrowed eyes before placing a firm hand on his sister's shoulder, "Nor, I'm disappointed in you."

The brunette let out an offended gasp while the others broke into laughter; Timothy was quick to scramble away before he could get attacked by paint.

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH FOLLOWED DEREK and Meredith as they entered a room where Webber and Adele were seated, waiting for their arrival. The Chief of Surgery perked up a little when the three surgeons walked in, but the look on his face faltered slightly at Derek's frown.

"Mrs Webber," Norah spoke up, "You needed to score a twenty-six or below to meet the criteria of the trial. You were... above that."

Adele let out a relieved sigh and turned to her husband, expecting a similar smile as hers. Instead, she was met by Webber's cold face, looking pointedly at the Neuro attending. "Derek."

"It's twenty-seven," the neuro attending informed.

"One point?" Webber scoffed in disbelief, "You're going to deny her this because of one point?"

"It's good. It means I passed," Adele smiled gladly, "I-I'm not sick. I told you, Richard."

"That's not what it means," he shook his head, taking a deep breath before looking straight at his wife. "You have Alzheimer's," he insisted, "It just hasn't progressed enough to get into the trial."

"But Derek said I passed. I passed," she turned to the resident seated opposite her, her voice eager, "Meredith... I'm okay, right?"

"When I asked you to repeat the three words back to me, you said 'pool' instead of 'spoon'. I asked you to identify my stethoscope. It took you a while to find the word. And I asked you where you took your honeymoon, and you said Hawaii," Meredith revealed, "But you were here, because the chief was a medical student, and he had to work."

Adele sighed, shaking her head in denial. "You're just a resident. What do you know? What the hell do any of you know?" she demanded, "You work in a hospital all day around sick people and disease. You're obsessed. That's what this is. So I got a few answers wrong. That's all? It's normal to forget things at my age."

The woman continued to hold onto the hope that her husband would stop pushing her away, stop telling her that she had an incurable disease, stop seeing her as a sick person.

But hope was a dangerous thing to hold onto.

She turned to Webber, her voice tight, "You can never remember where you parked the car whenever we go to the movies, and they're not saying that you have-" The surgeons in the room remained quiet as sobs broke out from the older woman, "It's not fair. I finally... It's... We're finally happy, you and me. Loving each other the way we should have all these years, and now? It's not fair!

"Don't look at me like that... L-Like I'm damaged goods." Her tears started to roll, and her voice cracked, looking at her husband while she grasped onto the last strand of hope that was already tearing apart. "I-I'm still me, I'm still here! I'm still me... I... Maybe... Maybe I won't be here much longer, but I'm right here, baby... I'm right here. I can't do-I'm so scared."

The surgeons shared the same look on their faces-dread, sorrow, compassion.

Norah sat wordlessly while she watched the hope and light in the older woman's eyes diminish... until it turned into heartbreaks and despair. The worst thing was taking in Adele's words because they made sense-the world is never fair.

How was it fair for those innocent lives to get taken in one day? How was it fair that one can never break away from their past? Was anything even fair in this world?

Derek nudged her slightly under the table, snapping her out of her mind. She found her hands rubbing each other-an act of fidgeting that she had practised. But the last time she did so was a while ago, a very long while ago.

The last time her mind started to drift into a self-destructive mode, when her fidgeting and leg bouncing, snapping and jaw clenching still happened. She was spiralling to the bottom, and she had barely made it back up the surface.

It scared her.

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH STARED AT THE empty tub of ice cream