𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

fifty three | alcohol

"How's he holding up?"

"I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I haven't checked on him since the night started drinking nonstop."

Cristina and Meredith chase behind me as I file away a few post-op patient files. Callie and Mark greet me from across the desk.

"Hi, Leven." Callie waves before walking off with her next patient's binder.

"Rising Phoenix, how's our boy doing?" Mark clasps his hands together in a hopeful manner.

I clip back a few fallen hair pieces. "Call and ask him yourself, McSteamy. You have a cellphone, don't you?"

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"Try not sleeping at all."

Cristina taps my shoulder rather irritably, causing me to snap around and raise my brows.

"What has gotten into you, Leven?" She questions rather forcibly. "You're usually a bubbly, cheerful little munchkin straight out of Wizard of Oz."

"Reality hit me like a shit ton of bricks, so. . ." I force a file into her hands. "That's what's gotten into me."

And I leave them standing around the nurses' station with my outburst hanging over their heads.

"Leven, I was wondering how Dr. Shepherd was —"

"Zip it, intern."

"Wh-What?"

"I said zip —"

Bang!

"Leven!"

----------

Beep. Beep. Beep.

As annoying as the rhythmic beeping of a monitor is, nothing is more irritating than having to listen to your own breath.

"Electrolyte levels are low, specifically sodium and bicarbonate."

"Acidosis and hyponatremia. Damn it, Leven. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

The moment a finger forces my eyelids to open, I attempt to smack the hand away. And it would've worked had it not been for the multiple needles sticking out of my arm.

"Rise and shine, Phoenix." Mark says in a husky tone.

My eyes blink repeatedly, adjusting to the overhead fluorescent lights. "What the hell, Sloan?"

"Since when did you stop drinking water?" He questions, sarcasm laced between his words. "I'm no expert — although my M.D. says otherwise — but I think water is pretty important for the body."

Lexie runs in with slips of papers in her hand. "Severe dehydration. That's what she has."

"No water, huh? Someone's been a very bad girl." He tuts disapprovingly.

"Save it, Sloan. You don't give a fuc —"

"If I didn't give one, I wouldn't be running every test imaginable to figure out what caused you to faint in the middle of this hospital."

"I've got a job to do. . ." The words leave my dry mouth.

"No one's stopping you, Lev." He merely shrugs his shoulders. "If you want to go back to work, get up from the bed."

Bracing myself against the rails of the bed, I push myself into a sitting position. Lexie opens her mouth to say something, but Mark lifts a finger, instead choosing to watch the scene unfold.