For A Reason {Mark Sloan} - COMPLETED -

forty one:::

I tapped my fingers on the table as I sat in the conference room, staring out the window.

"Brandy?" Dr.Perkins asked me.

"Sorry," I said, turning my gaze back to him, "So can you sign the paper now?"

"Brandy," He sighed, "This is the fourth time we've met."

"Fourth and final, right?" I asked, giving him a hopeful smile.

"I can't clear you," He shook his head.

"Why?" I frowned, "I told you I'm fine."

"That's all you've told me. I'm not convinced. You won't even talk to me about what happened," He looked at me,"I understand you were in the O.R. with Dr.Yang, when she was operating on Dr.Shepherd. Are you sure you're ready to go back into the O.R.?" He asked me.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Derek's fine now too. He's great actually."

"That must've been pretty traumatic. Watching that all happen. Dr.Yang, a resident, operating on him, while a gun was held to her head. You must've thought Dr.Shepherd died for a few moments right?" He asked.

"My dad and brother are coming to visit me today," I was quick to change the subject, "I haven't seen my dad in-" I shook my head, "Since I moved to Seattle. Almost four years. Isn't that crazy?"

"You didn't answer my question," He pursed his lips.

"You didn't answer mine either," I shrugged my shoulders.

"Brandy, you avoid saying anything about the shooting. That concerns me," He said writing something down.

"You just wrote something down about me," I frowned.

"I'm observing, taking notes. I have been this whole time, all of our visits I have," He said.

"I avoid talking about it because I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget it happened, I guess," I looked down in my lap.

"Maybe just forgetting it isn't the best option. I'm here for you to talk about it, to help you get through it," He told me.

"I don't need to talk about it and I don't need help. I've gotten through it. I've moved on," I told him.

"Do you think you can just move on from something like this? Just like that? This could easily the worst day of your life," He told me.

"You're right. It could easily be the worst day of my life. It's not. It wasn't. It was a shitty day, not the worst day of my life but I've moved on. So can you clear me now?" I sighed.

"What was the worst day of your life?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"I don't know," I shook my head, "Maybe when my grandpa died. Or when my two best friends died. I don't know. It wasn't the day of the shooting though."

"I'm sorry, but that's all the time we have for today. I'll see you tomorrow," He said, closing his book.

"Please sign the damn paper. I don't want to talk about it because it was horrible. I'm ready to go back into that O.R. Please just let me go back," I frowned.

"Brandy, I have other patients. We'll talk tomorrow," He said.

I groaned before I stormed out of the room.

"Hey," Cristina said as she looked up from her magazine and saw me.

"Hey," I growled.

"What crawled up your ass?" She asked.

"Ugh. That stupid shrink won't clear me for surgery because I won't talk about what happened. I've told him I don't want to and that I'm okay, but he's a-he's a cunt. He's a cunt and won't do it," I crossed my arms.