You Promised | Mark Sloan ✓

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"I've already finished a large one," she stated with a sigh, "Caffeine isn't quite helping right now."

"Adrenaline?" he suggested as he set the cup of coffee on the counter, his now-free hand softly rubbing small circles on her sore back.

"Maybe," she shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. I was up the whole night, making sure Izzie didn't croak or whatsoever. It's funny, you know? I might not be the biggest fan of her, professionally, but I really don't want a dead friend."

"You have a spot for compassion-that's one of the many things I love about you," he mumbled before pressing his chest onto her back and moving his arms to either side of her, resting his hands on the counter of the station. "Rest your head on my shoulder and close your eyes."

"But I can't sleep-"

"-without a ticking clock. I know," he finished her sentence, "Just rest your eyes, Laurie."

She gave him a tired smile before resting her head on his shoulder. He stood, not moving while he listened to her soft breathing next to his ear; his free hand went to sort the last of her charts quietly.

He stared at her as though watching a child drifting off to slumber-fluttering eyelashes, little scar along her jaw, fair skin on the side of her neck.

"You know, if you keep staring at my neck like that, people might think that you're a bloody vampire," she mumbled with a light smile, "Or a mosquito."

"Hey, I'm not a mosquito," he chuckled softly before placing a kiss on the skin on her neck, "But I'll be your bloody vampire." Just then, his pager went off, causing him to grumble in annoyance and her to lift her head from his shoulder.

"My bloody vampire is getting paged," she noted before giving him a kiss, "I'll see you in a bit."

❦ ❦ ❦

"I GOT A 9-1-1 IN THE ER. You coming?" Derek called out while he walked past Norah urgently, and she immediately bolted towards him.

The attending and resident made their way to the ER and headed straight for the trauma room, where he had gotten paged to. The rapid beeping of the heart monitor filled the room when he pushed open the door; Norah gasped at the sight within.

"Holy mother of-"

"What do we got?" Derek asked before the resident could cuss out.

"We got roadkill," Mark joked, and several eyes glared at him.

"You mind?" Owen interjected, "He stepped in front of a moving bus so he can pull a woman out of the way. He's a hero."

Derek flashed his light in the man's eyes while Norah stood next to him, observing the man's injuries. He was soaked in his own blood, and parts of his flesh were exposed-not to mention his skull that had been obviously bashing in that caused his face to be totally unrecognisable.

Roadkill, Norah thought. She felt squeamish.

"Pupil's blown. Stop CPR," Derek ordered, and Meredith lifted her hands from the man's chest. "Get me a cranial drill, please," Derek requested and turned to the resident next to him, "Lawrence, want to practice your burr holes?"

"Ooh, yeah, sure," Norah nodded and took was handed drill from the nurse.

Derek had shaved the part of the man's hair, then made a small incision on his scalp and pulled it open with a small retractor, exposing the piece of the skull for her to start drilling.

"Go in slowly. Feel a grab, stop," he informed when the drill started whirring in the resident's hand, "Otherwise, you're gonna be hitting brain."

"She drilled into a man's head with a power drill on a ferryboat," Mark reminded, "This is nothing for her." He received glares from both the neurosurgeon and the resident holding the drill.