89┃o.r. 4

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KAI HAD BEEN PUT TO SLEEP hours ago, and it felt like forever before the sun started to rise.

It felt like forever because Norah had never felt so alone in their apartment, ever. There was a haunting silence, an eeriness in the air, yet her unsettling heart was the worst of them all.

She was wrapped under a thick blanket like a cocoon, staring at her son, who was fast asleep. At the same time, she took glances at the phone by her side every what felt like five minutes.

God knows how long she had been waiting.

Even waiting had never made her feel so agitated and restless.

Waiting...

And waiting...

More waiting...

When the first ray of sun beamed through the slits of the curtains, the ringtone broke the haunting silence in the room that felt just too empty. Within a second, Norah picked up the phone, yet she paused on the next second, hesitating on whether or not to answer the call.

Screw this-what worse could the world throw at me?

She picked up the call and pressed the phone against her ear, letting out a shaky sigh. "Derek... is he-"

"Come to the hospital, right now," Derek her off, his voice curiously collected.

It took her a good moment before the words turned in the gears in her head. "But Kai's asleep, I can't-"

But her words got cut off again. "Wake Kai up and bring him over, too. Norah, get your ass here right now."

There was some loud shuffling noise on the other end of the call, along with some screeches and scrapings. When the noise died off a short while later, Norah pressed her phone back against her ear. "Der-"

"My little man's asleep, huh?"

A long silence-one that rushed every single emotion through her veins; she felt as though her heart was pumping feelings in her veins that transported throughout her body.

"Mark...?" her voice came out strangled and small. She swore if this was some really sick trick or something, she would literally burn the world to the ground.

But the moment she heard the voice, again, on the other end-the familiar words and breathy voice-she knew that the sun had truly risen again.

"I've missed you more, Laurie."

━━━━━

[A/N] Well, whether or not a medical miracle like that is able to happen, here's a fact - this is fiction 😌✨✨

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NORAH HAD TURNED DOWN the offer from San Francisco and resumed her fellowship in Seattle. In the end, she could not bear to stay away from the people she would call family; it was where home was.

The hospital staff-especially Bailey-were least to say, thrilled.

Mark got discharged two weeks later and was what they dubbed: a 'miracle case'. It was the love that kept him alive, at least that was what he claimed, but the truth behind the miracle was something that nobody could ever explain.

The first step he took in their apartment almost made him break down in tears.

Perhaps it was the aftermath of the surge of joy and relief that finally loosened up, but weeks went by, and he felt more and more disconnected from the people and the world in general.

All the lost, he had a part in grief as well.

There were tons of things in his head that he had yet to speak about; physical therapy was every other day, and psychiatrist sessions were three days a week. Other than that, he had been staying at home-he despised the stares that he received from people every time he set foot in the hospital.

The ongoing lawsuit with the hospital was one thing that he refused to attend personally, only getting the necessary details from Norah or Derek-talking about the crash only made him feel like he was back in the plane crash over again.

He just was not ready.

There were two things he loathed in his current life: his temptation for shutting people away and isolating himself, and the long scar on his chest that he deemed was the ugliest thing in the world.

It was a daily reminder of all the tears caused and the pain suffered.

Other than that, their grieving process for their unborn child-their little angel-was a quiet but hurtful one. They were not quite sure how to react to it, given everything came and went in such a sudden, but nevertheless, they were coping-together.

And that was all he needed.

❦ ❦ ❦

THE DAY KAI TURNED ONE year old was a merry one, especially with Uncle Derek, who drew the short straw and ended up in a clown costume. Zola was absolutely thrilled; Sofia had the most haunted look on her face ever.

The latter was still too young to know about everything that had happened, but Norah swore the little girl would sometimes miss her dad.

It became a habit for her to visit the cemetery every month, just for a random talk or to let him know about his daughter. It still stung when her words met no replies; she missed his cheeky grin every day.

On the night of Kai's birthday party, his babbles and random vocalising turned into his first word-Dada.

Mark refrained from tearing up on his son's first birthday; deep down, there was an epic excitement and bliss that he could only describe as the world's best feeling.

The little boy almost wailed from getting tackled by kisses.

NORAH CLIMBED ONTO BED after putting the birthday boy to sleep, which was not difficult, thankfully enough. Mark was already under the comforter, lying on his back, as per always; his eyes were shut, but she could see his eyebrows furrowing in deep thoughts.

She placed a kiss on his cheek, which made his eyes flutter open, pulling him out of his mind. "What's going on in your head?" she asked softly.

"Just... things," he mumbled his reply, pulling the thick cover over them both.

His mind drifted off again while she hugged her arm over his waist. It felt like the plane crash was replaying in his mind again; the deaths, the losses, how aching and exhausting it felt to hold on to dear life, the soulless behind her eyes, the words of his supposed-to-be brother-in-law lying beside him at the wreckage...

There were some nights that he could still faintly hear her screams the moment she got sucked out from the side of the plane. The remembrance of her arm getting torn away from his made his fist clench tight. He swore that he would never forget the horrified look on her face and the feeling of his heart sinking down to his stomach-

He winced and jolted aside when he felt her trying to lay her head on his chest.

Her eyes flew open at him, just as he did her. She had a concerned and careful look after his sudden flinch; his eyes were immersed in panic and... guilt.

"N-Norah, I..."

He was panting when he lowered his head, staring at his chest as though he could feel the pain that had long subsided. She understood his thoughts at once-it was not difficult for her to recognise his triggering response.

"Hey, it's alright," she held her hand to his face, her eyes searching for the blue ones and saw them slowly calming down.

He shook his head stiffly and sat up on the bed, wanting nothing more than to shut himself in an empty room to drown in his head. She slowly got up next to him and wrapped her arms around him; his body gradually loosened up, and he relaxed into her hold.

"It's okay..."

"It's not," he claimed as his eyes found hers again. There was a hint of confusion in the pair of hazels, yet the love inside them never faltered-which only made him feel more remorseful. "I'm sorry."

"Mark, you have nothing to apologise about."

"No, I do have," he insisted, which made her brows furrow. "I put Tim on the plane... He wasn't supposed to even be on it in the first place, but I offered him a place and..." he let out a weak chuckle, dropping his head, "And I got him killed. He's dead because of me, Norah, it's not okay, and I am sorry."

She shut her eyes momentarily at the mention of her dead brother, but she shook her head only seconds later. "Mark, look at me," she muttered and gently brought his face back at her. "You offered him a place, and he took it. He made the choice to go with us, alright? Nobody could've predicted that the plane was gonna crash. Nobody. He did not die because of you. He died from the stupid plane."

His jaw clenched tight as he stared back at her; her words were sincere, just as her eyes. She never blamed him-or anyone else, for that matter-over Timothy's death; it was just his mind tricking him into sinking into guilt.

Although he did have the slightest relief for finally saying out the thing that had been bugging his mind for months now, he still felt at fault.

"You are allowed to blame yourself, because that's what I did, too. I blamed myself for not saving my little brother," she admitted, hugging him tighter. "But you don't get to blame yourself for surviving, love, you hear me? You don't."

Her hand went to stop and hold his that was running along the scar on his chest, under his shirt-it had been something he did whenever he felt uneasy over the subject discussed.

Many things had changed about him since the crash.

He began to dislike the attention of people's gazes despite being one of the most outgoing people in the hospital back then. He became more attached to her and their son in fear of the possibility of not being able to see them. He started wearing a shirt to bed, which he did not do for years before.

Those were just some of a list she noticed.

He never talked about it, though, and she never pried either. Yet they both had a mutual understanding that each other knew about it.

He stared at her hand above his and sighed. "I hate the scar. It reminds me of the crash. It reminds me of... everything and everyone we lost. And I'm stuck with it for good, a-and at night..."

There were nights where he would thrash in his sleep, often followed by shouts or struggles. Being the light sleeper she was, she would spring awake every time, but she never succeeded in waking him up from it. Hence, she hugged him tightly, a small piece of her breaking at his trembling.

"Nightmares?" she guessed when he trailed off, and he nodded silently. "I know you get them, love," she spoke, earning a curious look from him. "You're a deep sleeper, and I can't always wake you up in the middle of the night when you..."

"Oh... I-I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," she said again as she moved to sit on his lap. She brought her arms around him and allowed his head to bury in her neck; his arms hugged tightly around her waist, never wanting to ever let go anymore.

The first few times he thrashed in his sleep, she was up all night because she could not bring herself to rest any longer. Perhaps it was because of the paranoia, but either way, she feared the possibility of losing him.

His breathing would be heavy throughout the night, and it sometimes soothed back down. The sweat beading on his head drenched the pillowcase. She would hold him close every night; all she ever wanted-and needed-was him.

She knew every time he was having nightmares, but she was sure he did not know about hers. Jolting up in the dark, panting, she would dismiss it quickly and hastily, turning onto her side.

She would move closer to him under the comforter, wrapping an arm over his body while she rested her head on his back. Often, she would wake up to see him hugging her close or holding her arm. She really missed the days she lay on his chest with his arm hugging her closer.

"I get nightmares, too," she shared, and he lifted his head back slightly. "All the time. The crash, the shooting... hell, sometimes even New York. But I made it through the night because I knew, and know, that you are by my side every step of the way.

"I used to push people away and run from all my problems. But now? Now, I face it, and I fight it. It is a tough fight, sure, but knowing that there are people I love surrounding me is all the support I need to go on," she cupped both sides of his face, meeting his eyes. "I'm right here if you need me. I always am."

The pair of hazel eyes looked as dear as ever, and he felt himself slowly submerging in her words. He nodded lightly before leaning backwards until his head met his pillow, his arms still tightly around her when he turned to the side.

"I love you," he mumbled and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I really, really love you."

"And I love you more," she smiled back, catching his lips with hers.

He shook his head softly with a sleepy grin. "Impossible."

He reached for her hand, slowly but surely, and placed it above his chest; the beating heart was a gift to them and their future.

❦ ❦ ❦

THE LAWSUIT WITH THE hospital took another few more months to settle. The amount of meetings, speeches, glares received from co-workers, whispers behind backs were something Norah had grown to hate more than anything in the world.

When Callie tried to use Timothy's money that was left for Sofia, Norah had a good row with her, one that Mark and Derek both had to hold her back from lunging herself at the Orthopedics attending. Whether it was because of luck or her piercing glare, she successfully rewired Callie's head within a few sentences.

Things were rough, without a doubt, but they were slowly easing their way back into their lives.

Norah and Mark had agreed on looking for a house to live in, finally deciding that the apartment was too small for all three of them.

They settled in a while after Mark was free from physical therapy, and they could not be gladder about their choice made. Kai was thrilled when he saw the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of his room.

Weeks after the hospital was bought by the Harper Avery Foundation, all the hardship faced seemed to smooth down, slowly but steadily.

Again, Norah almost lunged herself at Jackson, who had instantly shut himself up and scolded his own idiocy after obtaining her heated scowl.

When the hospital was renamed Grey Lawrence Memorial Hospital, she brought one of the keychains from the gift shop for her brother. Kai, who took a special liking to the souvenir, stole it and refused to hand it back-hence she purchased another.

Mark had slowly eased his way back into work, starting picking up consults then surgeries.

On his first day back in the OR, the staff had erupted into cheers and applause; both Norah and Kai were watching him from the gallery, the little boy's eyes were twinkling as he squashed his face onto the glass window.

The boy, now sixteen months old, was a quick learner in walking, and he was a total sucker for hide-and-seek. Cristina would volunteer to play with him, only to let him hide in a very obvious spot while she rested her legs in the daycare.

Kai was also starting to form clear words, such as Mama and Dada, and 'Eh-yee-fun' for his stuffed elephant; his other babble of made-up words often baffled his parents.

'Peeng' was something he would say when he was hungry. Norah let out a personally offended scoff when she found out his favourite food was baked beans; Mark, on the other hand, howled in laughter.

Family was what they viewed each other as since a very long time ago.

Only he had to make it official.

❦ ❦ ❦

NORAH WOKE UP ONE morning only to find Mark and their son were both not in their house. At least he made it up with a breakfast platter waiting for her, right?

She picked up the note under the plate, and it read:

Got called in early & Kai's with me.
See you at work. I love you lots.
- Your Love

"My love, huh?" she mumbled to herself while stabbing a fork into a piece of bacon. "Never knew Kai learned how to write..."

PS. the bacon was not seasoned with sugar, fortunately enough.

"WHAT IF SOMETHING GOES wrong? I want it to be perfect!" Mark screeched out his question, and his best friend shook his head, followed by a heavy sigh.

Derek passed Zola the pastel cup before turning to the close-to-pale plastic surgeon. "It already took you a whole year, and now I'm gonna listen to you ramble again?" he scowled, "Hell no, and you two together already are perfect."

"Okay, okay..." Mark drew in another deep breath while Kai attempted to climb up his leg with a toothy grin on his face. He helped his son up, and the boy snuggled into him. "Aw, you're gonna make me faint... Oh cr-cars, damn it-Derek, what if I faint?!"

"I swear to-" the neurosurgeon refrained his words-only because they were surrounded by children; instead, he rolled his eyes. "Lightheaded, maybe, but you aren't going to faint, for love's sake. But by any chance you do, you're in luck, 'cause we're in a hospital."

Mark made no further statement on his joke, which he could not even find funny. "Well, what if she thinks it's still too early and turns me down?" he asked again, picking up the cup by his chair that Sofia had dropped. "I mean, that's gonna be super embarrassing..."

"She's not gonna turn you down," Derek sighed unamusingly before drinking a sip of 'tea' from his plastic teacup. "But I'll be sure to knock life into her if she freezes... or freaks out."

Mark nodded before perking up again, "What if-"

Derek nudged one of the toy cups in front of his face. "Zola invited Kai and Sofia for a tea party, so let's drink tea," he deadpanned, and Mark cut off his words instantly, giving Zola a smile.

The plastic took the cup and waved it in front of Kai, who was giggling on his leg. "Tea party, little man?" The boy pushed the cup away, and Mark narrowed his eyes at him. "Coffee?"

Derek cocked a brow at the father-and-son pair while 'adding milk' into Sofia's tea. Mark continued waving the cup in front of his son, but he got repeatedly ignored while Kai brought the purple saucer plate up to cover his face.

Mark clicked his tongue with a smirk. "You want some scotch in your cup?"

Derek widened his eyes alarmingly, receiving a weird look from one of the daycare nurses. "Mark, that's a very bad-"

"Ooh-what about whisky?"

"Nyow."

❦ ❦ ❦

MARK STALKED DOWN THE ORs hallway with a nervous bubble in his chest. He pushed open the door to the scrub room of OR 4, where he found Norah, who had just turned off the water at the sink.

"Oh, hey, love," she grinned at the sight of him as he entered the space. "You're using this OR next?"

"I-I'm not, I'm... uh, not. Nope."

Way to stammer, Mark Sloan, he scolded himself. Please don't faint.

"Mm-hmm..." she raised a brow at him as he passed her the towel to dry her hands.

Folding his arms above his chest, he cleared his throat to try his best in maintaining a composed voice, "You, um, remember this particular OR?"

"Well, this is my favourite OR, for one," she mentioned before disposing the towel into a bin. "Hmm... You want memories, huh? Let's see... I performed my first solo surgery here during my second year, first leading surgery in fifth... Ooh, nearly got exploded into chunks outside this corridor, as well-Mark, you're blocking the door."

He stepped aside and pulled the door open for her; she noticed the small frown on his face and snorted. "Your first case in Seattle was in this OR, too," she resumed. "Jake Burton, the teen with craniodiaphyseal

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