You Promised | Mark Sloan ✓

34┃solo surgery

"-the subsequent carotid dissection has caused loss of her cerebral function," Norah finished the attending's words, "Yeah, I get it. She's... brain dead." Derek turned to her with narrowed eyes-she was never one to interrupt an attending in an OR.

Norah lifted her gaze from the dull-coloured brain to him, exhaling heavily. "The last thing her sister said to her was 'I hope you die'," she muttered sickly, "I just... I can't imagine if that's my brother on the table, you know? And she's only sixteen..."

"That's good news," Dr Dixon spoke in a rather delighted tone, causing everyone in the OR to turn their attention to her. "She'll be an excellent candidate for organ donation. Excellent candidate. Excellent organs-young."

Norah felt disturbed.

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TIMOTHY ROAMED THE halls until he reached the library with two coffees in his hand. Through the window, he saw his sister spinning in circles on a chair while she flipped through what appeared to be three medical books and journals at a time.

Concernedly, he pushed open the door and walked inside, placing both cups of coffee on the desk. "Hey," he greeted, yet she did not seem to hear him. He finally got her attention when he forcefully stopped her spinning chair. "Hey."

Norah lifted her head from the crowded words to him, a sigh escaping her mouth. "Hey back."

"Is the solo surgery decided yet?"

"Four o'clock. I still have..." she glanced at her watch, "two hours to go through it again."

Timothy sighed at the stressed look on her face, looking around the library before turning back to her. "You know, you're smart-like super smart," he stated, "The genius kid in our fucking home."

"Tim, our home consists of you and me," she deadpanned, "And we're both surgeons."

"Oh, come on, Nor, have some fucking confidence in yourself," he smiled before grabbing away all the reading materials from her hand. When she let out a sound of protest, he shushed her off and placed the materials aside, turning back to her. "Okay, explain the steps to me like I'm the one performing it later."

Norah stared at him for a long time before giving in. "Alright, fine. I mark out the incision with a marker, make sure the lines are drawn clearly. Make an incision at the midshaft of the tibia. Elevate the periosteum carefully, then cut the tibia with a saw. Finally, ligate the neurovascular bundles and release the tourniquet," she recited. "Happy?"

Timothy nodded with a cheeky grin on his face. "See? You're all set and have nothing to worry about," he stated and lifted one of the paper cups to her, "Coffee?"

"You drink vanilla," she deadpanned, "Ew."

"No, no," he shook his head, "This-was requested by your boyfriend. And I'm sure he wouldn't mind you drinking half of it before I bring it to him."

Norah narrowed her eyes at him while she took away the coffee. "He's getting you on coffee runs?" she questioned, then purposely drinking a few more mouthfuls of the cappuccino. "I'm gonna have a word with him."

Timothy chuckled before frowning at the weight of the cup when she returned it to him. "Nor, I know I said half of it... but you didn't have to drink exactly half of it."

"Tell Mark I was thirsty."

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THE RESIDENTS GATHERED, once again, in front of the OR board. The bouncing legs and nail picking had only gotten worse as they waited for the empty column on the board to get filled in.