"Oh, for fuck's sake." Meredith puked again as Emily rubbed her back soothingly, keeping her shoes a respectable distance away from the vomit. "You pregnant or something, Mer?" she joked as Derek strolled up to them, asking for the blonde on an aneurysm clipping. "Doctor." The brunette nodded to Addison who strided past them before speaking to Bailey.
"Oh, my god." Addison exclaimed softly, disbelief clear in her voice. Derek looked up as well, through the same window.
"Oh... my... god..." The other interns squinted at the man who shook hands with the board member as Cristina smirked, sidling up to Emily and pulling her arm. Meredith groaned as she rubbed a hand against her head, face scrunched up in pain.
"Oh, my god."
"Is that-"
"McSteamy," Cristina affirmed for George, pushing the brunette in the direction of the door. "Go Emily, make your move."
"What?" she squawked just as Meredith vomited again and Mr. Sullivan reached for his lighter.
"No, Mr. Sullivan! Don't light that!"
Everything was chaos. There was screaming, general mayhem, George running for the phone and Emily staring at the blaze of fire that was once Mr. Sullivan's face.
"Somebody get the fire extinguisher."
"Call a code red!"
They rushed into the room as the interns worked together to pat out the fire and drag a new gurney towards the room. Derek found the fire extinguisher, spraying it onto the sheets and clothes generously. When the fire was out, Emily grabbed gauze, laying it atop the black skin.
The other interns transferred him onto a gurney and they wheeled him out as Mark appeared in the doorway, looking pristine and not at all like he should. He looked stiff and clandestine and Emily only spared him a glance as she unhooked the I.V bag from the stand and attached it to the gurney. Ordering for gauze, Sloan passed Bailey an ambu bag. A fireman rushed past them with an extinguisher, putting out the last remnants of the flames. Snapping on a pair of gloves, he inspected the skin.
"Make sure he has an airway. Sir, can you hear me? Sir?" Mark asked, applying the gauze to the burnt face.
"No, he's out. Hit his head. Small hematoma in the occipital region," Bailey reported, adjusting her grip on the bag.
"Get him to the burn unit 'til he's stabilized, then get a C.T." Mark ordered, "Go,"
"Right away, doctor. Come on," The team wheeled the gurney away as Emily began walking to the closest nurses station. Cristina, Meredith and Derek walked down the hall where they could get a glass of water, returning soon after with George in tow. Sloan and Dr. Webber walked past them, a tension crackling in the air. She knew his eyes scanned her body, trying to catch her attention but she turned away and into George to avoid it.
"What kind of idiot lights a cigarette in a hospital?" Webber asked as Derek walked up to them.
"Apparently, people do idiotic things all the time." They all shared glances, the ones Derek sent poisonous while Sloan simply stared. The Chief climbed the stairs, his head of Neuro in tow as Addison approached Mark. Two separate conversations going on at the same time, the interns tried to follow both as Cristina pointed at Mark.
"Go, Em. Break it up. She's stealing your man."
"What? No!" the brunette exclaimed, sitting down in the office chair. Spinning around to face the two pairs of doctors, she switched between the men on top of the balcony and Addison interrogating Mark. Hearing a scuffling of feet, she turned just to see Meredith puke. Again.
"Holy crap! Are you pregnant?" Cristina exclaimed, catching the doctors' attention. Grabbing a tissue, she passed it into Meredith's hands. Helping her stabilize, they pulled her along slowly. "I'll examine her, you guys do your jobs. We'll be fine," Reluctantly, she squeezed Meredith's hand one last time before helping the woman lie down on the exam table. George cradled the glass of water in his hands, tipping the last of it down the woman's throat before wiping her lip and retreating.
"You better not be pregnant," Emily teased before adding more seriously, "Get well soon."
"Thanks," Meredith groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes. George smiled at her antics before they both left the room. Glancing around, she saw neither Derek or Addison in sight and approached Sloan who was staring at her. When they met eyes, he smiled and she rolled her eyes.
"What's wrong with the dirty mistress?"
"Don't know yet," she answered with a shrug. Frowning at his dark russet shirt and belt and pants, she quirked an eyebrow. Smiling slightly, she raised her brow. "What are you doing here, Sloan?"
"Got a job."
"Uh-huh." Undeniably, he looked fantastic, but Emily quickly decided that red on Mark Sloan was not a sight she liked as much as him in the black sweater. Leaning against the nurse's station, she wrinkled her nose when he mimicked her pose.
"What are you doing?"
"Deciding I don't like that shirt on you," she said and he smiled, glancing down. "I think I like dark blue more. Brings out your eyes."
"I'll get some attendings scrubs right away then." He winked and she chuckled to herself. "You like the lab coat, right? Mark Sloan, M.D."
"The lab coat is very pretty on you, Dr. Sloan," teased the brunette and he smiled tenderly. Again, with that smile. What is that? "If I'm lucky, I'm going to get assigned your intern. Welcome you properly to Seattle Grace and probably prove that I'm not an idiot."
"Oh, I know you're not an idiot. It's the other interns I'm worried about." He paused a moment before smirking, all fondness gone in exchange for a roguish glint in his eyes. "Welcoming me properly, hm? Does that include-" Holding up a hand, she stopped him mid sentence.
"No!" she exclaimed, pretending to be absolutely insulted. "Goodbye, Dr. Sloan."
.
"Moore, you're on Sloan's service. Show him around the hospital, make sure he doesn't get lost."
"Yes, Dr. Bailey."
.
"Moore," Mark greeted warmly as she finished tying her hair into a bun. "You really my intern?"
"Oh, possibly." Reading the chart quickly, she placed it back down and put on a pair of latex gloves. "What do you need?" she asked as the plastics surgeon touched the white material tenderly.
Mimicking his movements, she made sure all the material was secure and not loose around his head and neck. Flapping one piece over, she checked the burns around that area. It was marred slightly of red but otherwise seemed unharmed compared to the rest of his face. As she did so, another voice nearly startled her but she reigned in her surprise.
"Dr. Sloan," Alex greeted, looking eagerly at the patient. "Hey, Em."
"Alex," she replied back, stepping back to observe. He seemed disgruntled to see another intern but stifled his true feelings in favour of reading over the chart. As the man came to, the wife translated every word said as they worked. Mark explained their treatment plan, to remove the damaged tissue and apply bandages dressed with live cells onto his face.
"I'm gonna do absolutely everything I can, Mrs. Sullivan," Mark assured sincerely, taking off his gloves and side-stepping away from the bed. "We'll need a neuro consult before we operate," he addressed this to Alex, the two men stepping away from the bed as Emily checked his stats and jotted them into his chart.
"Anything else? I mean, uh, I could do debridement or, uh-"
"Actually there is one more thing," he said, holding up a finger. Knowing what was coming next, she coughed softly. Mark glanced at her and she widened her eyes as if to say, Interns! Not errand runners! Still, since when has Mark Sloan ever listened to anyone but himself?
"Bone dry cappuccino. Make it a double." And with that, the man walked away. Walking after him after grabbing the clipboard, she sighed with exaggeration. "Something you need, Dr. Moore?" he asked when Alex was out of earshot. It was a teasing tone, one she did not take a liking too.
"We're medical interns," she scolded half-heartedly, clicking her pen and sliding it into her pocket. Smiling slightly at the faded pen doodles on his right hand, she unclipped the papers from the clipboard and held them in one hand while she searched for Mr. Sullivan's new burn unit binder. Fingering through the binders, she found the one that said S. Sullivan and opened it up, unclipping the paper and filing it into the binder. "We don't run errands."
"You won't run errands. Until these other fetuses deserve the right to be teached, I'm not going to." Walking after him, she punched his arm lightly.
"This is a teaching hospital!"
"So?" Frustrated, she bit her lip and when he saw her face, he relented in his cocky attitude. "Fine. Sorry. I'll teach, whatever." Pleased that she got something out of him, Emily sighed as they continued on their way through the hospital.
.
"George!" Emily called as the brunet wheeled Meredith down the O.R. hallway. "Taking her to surgery?" She gripped the rails as they turned the corner.
"Yep. Still high as a kite." Meredith laughed, telling them to keep her draped on the table.
"Too many people have seen me naked already. I'd like to keep whatever dignity I have left," she instructed before spotting Mark. "McSteamy. Whoo-hoo! McSteamy!" The surgeon turned to them, a confused 'are you talking to me?' look on his face. He wore his surgical gown and a scrub cab as he approached them. Emily flushed, hiding her laugh as he came over.
"Is that what you're calling me now? McSteamy?" He asked, stopping at the blonde's bedside. His hand rested on the rails and Emily glanced up at him, eyes crinkled in mirth.
"Yeah, but I don't think you're supposed to know that."
"How's my favorite dirty mistress?"
"Haven't you heard?" she asked, slightly proud, "Now I'm an adulterous whore." Mark let out a laugh. George looked at his feet as Emily grinned so wide her cheeks hurt. This was just too great.
"We really need to get you to surgery, Mer. I also need to save her dignity. Can't have her calling out more McGuys in the hallways," George said, looking up. "See you, Em. Dr. Sloan." Nodding, he wheeled the high blonde away from them as Mark started chuckling. Emily started laughing as well as they walked to the nurses station.
"So, if you didn't know, that's a high Meredith," the brunette sighed, leaning against the countertops. Her lower arms pressed against the counter as she glanced at him. He did his paperwork intently, glancing up at her in the corner of his eyes occasionally.
"McSteamy, huh?"
"I had no part in that," she claimed with a smile. "I do not have any interest in you that way."
"Oh, you will," he teased and she rolled her eyes overdramatically. They walked past the O.R. board. "Come on, Mr. Sullivan should be in the O.R. We should scrub in."
"Wait, for real?" she asked, immediately excited. Her heart beat hard against her ribs and he shrugged.
"Oh, scrub in before I regret it," said the older man, letting her go into the scrub room first.
.
"Hey," she muttered, rubbing at her eyes as Mark closed the chart and handed it over to the nurse. "You break the news to the Sullivans?"
"Yeah, and that Dr. Bailey made him feel better, so he understands his face won't be what it was." Smiling, she stood up straight, hand pushing her off the counter.
"Thanks for letting me scrub in." Mark hummed and was quiet for a moment before straightening his light blue gown. Cocking her head, she frowned slightly when it didn't straighten completely. Taking the strings that would tie around his middle, she bit her lip and tied it around his waist extremely tight. He inhaled sharply and she laughed.
"Ow." She tugged again, harder, finding it childishly delightful but the smile dropped from her face when he stumbled forward after a hard pull and caught himself by coincidentally placing his hands on her hips. The laughter died in her throat as he stared down at her. His scent was pulling her in and she wished she was noseblind because his cologne was worming its way into her good graces. "Careful, jailbait," he mumbled. Thinking it was a joke, she smirked triumphantly.
"A surgeon should be sure on her feet," she teased. He stared at her for a moment, and then his eyes flickered away. "Are you okay?" she asked when he didn't step back. Catching sight of his face, she felt her heart jump up into her head and roar in her ears. The tender smile, the soft eyes, always drawing her in when she didn't want to. "Sloan."
"Just friends. Right." He stepped back and her face, warm, looked anywhere but at him. "Sorry."
"You just tripped, right?"
"Right. Just tripped." With a wink, the plastics surgeon spun to leave and Emily turned the opposite way, knowing she'd have to get used to this feeling if their friendship was to last. She'd just have to adapt, evolve, learn how to live with it until it went away. That's fine.
This was fine.
.
"Seems like the M&M wasn't that favorable for you," Mark said and she glanced up from where she was reading labs. Glancing up occasionally to make sure she didn't bump into anyone, she saw a nurse point at them and whisper to her friend. She was too tired to deal with this.
"You were there?"
"Caught a bit," he admitted and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she read the numbers. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, that means a lot," she muttered sarcastically. There was the sound of a pager and she checked her belt. When it wasn't hers, she glanced at Mark who was looking at his own pager.
"Mastectomy patient. Huh. Well, I gotta go." Mark's face was morphed in apology and she shrugged with a smile.
"Bye."
"You alright?" Mark asked before he left and she finally looked up at him. Her shift had just started and she already felt so tired. Shrugging lifelessly, she reached a nurse station and grabbed the binder the labs belonged to.
"Just fantastic. Look, you don't have to worry about me," she said and he clicked his pen repeatedly as she filed in the labs and closed it before giving it to the nurse. Turning to him with one hand still on the counter, she added, "I'm just tired. I'm an intern."
With one last click, Mark frowned slightly and grabbed her hand.
"What are you doing?" asked the younger surgeon when a cold pen tip began to glide over fleshy joint of her thumb and index finger. She could try to guess all she wanted what he was drawing but she'd never get it right until he moved his hand away.
It took her minutes to realize he was carefully crafting letters onto her skin and she waited patiently as he dotted his i's, swirled his e's, and made sure it was legible.
"Cheer up, jailbait," he whispered, squeezing her arm before leaving. Reeling, she stood stock still as he walked away, not knowing that Mark Sloan had his heart beating in his throat so hard he thought it might burst.
.
i'm all ears, it read.
.
"You haven't told Derek that you broke up with Finn?" Emily crunched on a carrot as she said this. "Really?"
"I will," Meredith insisted, taking her pop into her hand. "I'm giving him time. He just got divorced,"
"That's stupid," Izzie retorted quickly, furrowing her brow.
"You know what's stupid? Carrying around an eight million dollar check." All turning to look at Izzie, she sighed, insisting that she was fine.
"I'm fine. The check is fine. We're all fine. Okay?" They looked at each other unbelievingly. "So... about McSteamy..." This time, the blonde looked at Emily who ducked her head.
"It's nothing. He and Addison, and whatever." Throwing the container of vegetables onto her tray, she frowned. She didn't like how she felt whenever the thought of the two surgeons together crossed her thought twisted and coiled in her stomach like a rotting gas, making her insides curdle like spoilt milk. The other five shared looks, confusing the brunette. "What?"
"Did he write that on your hand?" George smiled, scooping some yogurt into his mouth.
The others all stared at her hand where his writing was still there. Hiding it under the table, she stared at him, hard.
"No."
"Liar!" Izzie crowed and Emily shot her a look as well.
"No!" When she saw no way out of the conversation, she immediately said, "I'm not the one with the 8.7 million dollar cheque, okay?"
"I will cash it in." Izzie rolled her eyes, off her scent. Thankful, if not a bit guilty, Emily held her penned hand and stared into her salad, a certain blue-eyed dirty surgeon invading her mind.
.
"You wanna go get drinks after?" Mark asked as they walked through the halls. Shrugging, she sent him a smile.
"If you're free. I don't wanna take up your free time with Addison," she said with a wink. Mark's smile fluttered and she noted it with darting glances. "Or not?"
"Addison told Derek."
"About?"
"She - I... we lived together for a few months after. We tried to make it work and then I slept with another woman."
"Oh," was all she said as he rubbed his face. "Well, how do you feel?"
"I thought I owed him the truth."
"That's good." Taking his hand briefly, she smiled and squeezed it for a moment before letting go. "That's good that you're trying."
"It is." They stopped at the attendings lounged and she shoved her hands in her pockets, glancing inside. Derek was working on his laptop and she glanced at the neurosurgeon.
"Hey," she said, dragging her gaze away from him to stare at the surgeon before her. "You know he's in there, right?"
"Drinks at Joe's. If I'm not there in ten minutes, call me." Frowning, she swayed side to side and casted dubious glances inside. "I'll be fine, jailbait."
"Double scotch single malt?" she asked and he smiled down at her.
"You already know me so well," he murmured and she glanced down at her shoes before tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.
"I'm going to go. I'll wait for you in the lobby and we can walk over together," she whispered and turned around. Mark watched her go for a moment and then took a breath, placing his hand on the knob. When he looked down the hall again, he waited until she was completely gone before entering the room.
.
"Hey." She stood when she saw Mark come in. He wore his leather jacket that he wore the first time they met and he glanced up at his phone. "How'd it go?"
"Well as can be," he said with a slight smile. "I'm thinking of changing the burn dressings to biosynthetic. No skin grafts, faster recovery time - I have no idea why the last head of plastics didn't do it." Shrugging, she unfolded her jacket. He took it from her, holding out the sleeves and she smiled, slipping her arms into the sleeves. Once it was on her shoulders, she turned around and pulled her hair out from under as he made sure none of it was wrinkled.
"How was your day?" she asked as they made their way out of the hospital. Together, the two surgeons crossed the street.
"Fine, and yours?"
And on they talked into the night.
.
"Hey, Em, can you take this?" Alex came up to her and she started, her gaze jerking away from the O.R. board. Two uteruses and a humpty dumpty surgery all in one day. Pulling off her scrub cap - she herself had just scrubbed in on a rotator cuff surgery with Dr. Torres - she glanced at the phone warily.
"What is it?"
"DMV. Sloan needs to sort out his registration and license, but I wanna get in on this surgery." Alex jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and his eyes pleaded for her. "Look, you're Sloan's favourite and I just-"
"Calm down. I've got this. If Sloan asks, I'll say it's handled," she replied and he grinned. "Get in on that surgery, Alex."
"Thank you!" Flipping on the phone, she tugged the hair tie out of her hair, running a hand through her hair and shaking out her curls. Leaving it on speaker, she walked through the halls and spotted Derek talking to a woman in dark blue scrubs.
"Nance, you've got a surgery to get to."
"Oh, come on, Derek." Derek pinched his nose, groaning and Emily smiled, leaning over the counter.
"Can I have the chart for Malak Yousif?" she asked and when it was placed in her hand, she smiled and thanked the nurse. Glancing over at Derek, she smirked when she saw Derek making a face at her.
"Nancy, this is Dr. Moore."
"Noah's sister."
"Oh, I've heard about you." Smiling, she shook Nancy's hand. "How's my brother? Has he been causing trouble?"
"Uhm, I don't think I'm in position to say," Emily said with a wide smile. "He's my boss." Derek smiled slightly, humming.
"Mmm, smart." The phone began to vibrate as someone's voice came over the speaker. "You've got to take it?"
"Yeah. See ya, Dr. Shepherd."
.
As Mark snatched the phone back with her after she straightened things out with the DMV, she raised an eyebrow at Mark's weird stare at Dr. Torres. She switched her gaze between the two and read between the lines. Gawking, she felt the smile tugging in her cheeks and turned back to Mark, raising her eyebrows.
"You slept with her?" The way she posed the question sounded more like she stated fact. A part of her squirmed uncomfortably while the other part of her kept up the smile.
"No?" Snorting, she wrinkled her nose and turned away.
As she walked away, she called over her shoulder, "No lying in this friendship!"
.
:you snake:
:what did I do:
:you let meredith in on the sexual reassignment surgery AND NOT ME:
:sorry cant show favouritism:
:you suck and you gave a valid reason sloan so you know what im mad at you from this day forward until you give me a worthy gift:
There was a moment when Mark didn't respond and then she got a ding.
:anything for you:
.
She was drinking by herself which was sad in itself. Since Alex was on that stupid camping trip, she was waiting for him at the bar after sending him a text. She knew Mark and Meredith were in here somewhere and she knew the feeling that squeezed her heart was just out of worry when she saw Joe walk in. Where was Alex?
"Is Alex back yet?" she asked Joe.
"No idea. Sorry, Emily." Shrugging, she drained her brandy and set a twenty on the counter to cover her tab. The bartender took it from her and she waved a hand to say 'keep the change' before getting up. She was done waiting, truth be told. Getting up, she sighed and tried to lessen the ache in her heart as she got up and went for the door.
She didn't know if the feeling was because Alex and George were both off at the camping trip, Mark was with Meredith, Cristina was still at the hospital, and Izzie... she didn't know. She didn't know why she was feeling lonely but she knew it was because there were always people before her. Always someone who had her as a second choice. The hospital was all her relationships. She had no room for anything else and when Meredith had Cristina, George had Izzie, and Mark wasn't even... they're just friends. Fine. Alex was all she had when it came to drinking and he couldn't even show up.
Still, this loneliness was too fucking familiar, so she just wanted to get home and sleep the feeling away.
"Goodnight, Joe," she murmured to the bar owner who was just pouring himself a drink. He smiled after her and she bundled her coat around her tightly as if that'd help her from feeling like she was going to fall apart. She hated days like these when she was the one with no friends.
Walking out of the bar, she stood outside for a moment to just inhale the stinging air. She needed it to clear her head and get rid of the stuffy feeling in her chest. When she had a few minutes to herself, she turned away and began to walk to her car, trying to focus on the clicking of her heeled boots and the feel of the wind in her hair.
Alex Karev found her later when she was just about to get into her car and she had yelled at him profusely before inviting him over for his six-pack of beer.
.
As Mark left the bar, he swept his gaze. Even with Grey making out with what was supposed to be his best friend - not that he cared - he was sure Moore was in here somewhere. The bell rang overhead as the door swung open and he looked up and down the street.
"You were late! You know how much of a fool I looked like, waiting for a guy who couldn't even show up?" Karev and Emily were... a thing?
"Come on, Em! You're overreacting here. I just got back from a camping trip. I'm exhausted. I want to drink."
"But how did Joe get back before you?" Emily yelled, shoving Karev hard against the shoulder. He was about to take a step forward when he heard a waver in her voice. "I was alone! You don't get to do that to me!"
"Why are you so pissy?"
"Because I have no one!" Running a hand through her hair, Emily turned to get back into her car when Karev stopped her.
"Look, I got a six-pack of beer, I'm sure you got alcohol at your place, can we just go?" Emily, half in her car and half out, stared at Karev for a long moment and an ugly lump rose in Mark's throat. She was sleeping with him? Their tones lowered and Mark's feet wanted to move closer but he stayed planted as Karev gestured with an open palm and Emily's smile split across her face.
In Mark's opinion, it was more luminous than the damn moon as he turned away. He knew exactly what kind of feeling she was talking about and he didn't understand why, why didn't she talk to him?
Karev got into the car and Emily shook her head as if he had said something funny before ducking into the vehicle.
That ugly lump grew and he swallowed. His lungs could barely function as he turned away. His legs were lead and his heart was in his throat as he tried to tell himself that it didn't matter. It didn't matter who Moore slept with. It was none of his business especially when she never judged who he slept with. She, who expressed kindness when she hated what he did, who stood against everything he ever believed in, all the sleeping and one-night stands. She, who had waited for him time and time again to go out, to talk, to operate.
She who was never his first choice because she would always be there. God, it fucking hurt and he knew exactly why. He treated her exactly as Addison did to him. Their friendship was a balance but right now, she was giving more than he was. What happened to him that he was no longer the guy who flew over to Seattle and got the damned corsage? Not much except he slept with Addison multiple times, slept with Torres, and was slowly falling out of love with the woman he thought he loved more than anything.
He made a promise to do better.
.
"Bright and shiny? You aren't a bright and shiny kind of person, Derek." She mused aloud as the neurosurgeon grinned. "Normally when you get divorced, people are bitter."
"Not me. I'm bright and shiny." He said, walking with a spring in his step and humming a soft tune. Laughing heartily at a joke a nurse told him as he filled in a chart, he continued on his way. Smiling, Emily rolled her eyes. Lovesick, she thought as Mark approached her, a cup in his hand.
.
"Izzie and Alex have a patient who speaks about himself in the third person."
"They thought it was annoying at first, but now they kinda like it."
.
"How's your dad, George?" Emily asked, offering him a part of her granola bar. He smiled nostalgically. Taking a bit of the chocolate chunky snack, he took out a black device. Ruffling her friend's hair, she ate the rest of the granola bar and stuffed the wrapper in her pocket.
"He's fine." The brunet replied, checking his pager as a call from behind them made them turn around.
"O'Malley. Moore." They paused, turning around to see the Chief, Cristina following after.
"Yeah?"
"I have your father's test results." The sentence seemed weighted as he said this, passing the results to George. Taking them quickly, he read them thoroughly before spinning around and marching down the hall. Cristina brushed past Webber, following after him along with Emily as they reached the elevator.
"George?" His name cracked in her voice, reaching for his arm. He didn't flinch but his muscles tightened under her touch. His face seemed heavy as he covered his mouth with a hand and ran it back and forth.
"He has esophageal cancer," he choked out, swallowing. Turning to him, she wrapped him in a hug that lasted for a few moments. Cristina was silent, somberly watching them as Emily held onto his arm in a way to say that I am here. The elevator doors opened as they made their way to Mr. O'Malley's room. They looked up at their arrival, the two brothers holding playing cards. Emily released her grip, letting it fall limply to her side.
"We've been waiting here forever. Where's the doctor?" one of them asked with annoyance.
"Uh, Dr. Webber will be here in a couple of minutes," George replied easily, his voice clear. His brother scoffed before smirking.
"Won't tell you anything, huh, not till you're a real doctor?" he joked, causing the other to laugh. George's irritation built as he forgot about the situation.
"I am a real doctor," George said, glancing down at his feet. "Ronny! I just - I'm not Dad's doctor." He swallowed thickly, causing his dad to look at him.
"What is it, Georgie?"
"Let's just wait for Dr. Webber." He stalled, not looking at his father in the eye. Turning to him, Cristina lowered her voice.
"No, I think he's expecting you to tell him." George sniffed loudly, causing the brothers to look at him.
"George." Her hazel eyes were soft as she rubbed his arm. "He's coming in later. You should tell him. It'd be better. It'll be better."
"What's with the whispering?" Harold asked as they waited for an explanation.
"The biopsy results were abnormal," he said quickly. Releasing a gust of air, Mr. O'Malley's gaze flickered from his son to the other doctors.
"Is abnormal bad or just different? Georgie?" Unable to answer, he looked to them for answers on how to explain that his father, the one who raised him, had cancer. They shared looks. George looked overwhelmed while Cristina just looked sympathetic.
"Sir..." Cristina started, stepping up. Emily ducked her head and clasped her hands behind her back. "You have cancer in your esophagus, which has spread to your stomach."
"We need to operate, to remove it. And you'll need to undergo chemotherapy and radiation," the brunette added, standing beside the asian woman. "I'm sorry." Turning back to George, he seemed frozen. "I'm going to take George somewhere, away from here. Can you do the labs?"
"Yeah, go."
"Come on, George." Guiding him out of the room, she led him to the stairwell where they waited in silence.