You Promised | Mark Sloan ✓

56┃lockdown

[CW: shooting, deaths, blood, description of injuries, panic attacks, flashbacks]

S6 EP23&24

"Mr Clark, I'm not afraid to die, you see. So the question is, are you gonna kill me, too?"

They say that bullets travel faster than the speed of sound. In other words, one would feel the tiny steel lodging into their body before hearing the bullet blasting out of the muzzle.

She disagreed, because through experience, she knew that their ears would ring, and the world would fall into pieces around you.

There will be no blasting sound, only the sound of yourself choking while your throat strangles itself. And the screams and shouts if your mind allows.

But she was certain of one thing-it was deadly.

❦ ❦ ❦

THE ER WAS IN A CHAOS. Patients screaming in one end and families dying in another, what a way to live one's life.

The patient Norah was working on had fractures on his leg because he attempted to jump out of a moving vehicle-totally idiotic. Humans are idiots, and that covers up half of the ER cases; it was just like any other day.

Except, this day, nobody had any idea how much harm will be done, how many lives will be lost; the trauma and agony that will be stained upon every being in this hospital would be one that no one saw coming.

It was not any other day.

Norah excused herself from her patient while she carried his X-ray films and flagged down the Ortho attending. She found Callie by the nurses' station, signing off some charts. "Dr Torres," she called out, "Could you do a consult on..."

Callie was frowning at her, the same look many top-tier-gossiper-nurses had. Norah did not care to bother, nor bother to care.

"You're taking sides, brilliant, whatever," the resident sighed heavily, "But can we just keep it professional at work?"

"What, no-I'm not taking sides," Callie quickly defended while she turned to face the resident. She studied the resident's facial expression for another moment as Norah stared back at her confusedly. "The only side I'm taking is Team Sloarie, or something..."

Norah did not know whether she should feel confused or concerned.

"Look," Callie sighed, "Mark is hopelessly in love with you, and when I say hopelessly, I mean staring-at-you-from-afar-when-you're-not-noticing-just-so-I-can-get-a-glimpse-of-you-for-my-day-to-go-on type of hopeless."

Norah took a second to process her words, before shaking her head. "Correction: I noticed," she stated, "I know when he's staring... I always have."

"How are you holding up?" Callie queried.

The resident scratched the back of her neck. "Uh... I haven't thrown myself off the building, so... that's a start, I guess?"

"No-how are you holding up?" Callie emphasised, "Because Mark, he... He may look fine in the hospital, but he's a wreck, a total disaster. How do you do it?"

Norah smiled at the attending, the pit of emotions circling inside her. "Who says I'm not falling apart outside these hospital walls?" she muttered and after a long pause, she lifted the scans to the attending. "Consult, please? Bed 4."

"Dr Lawrence! Dr Torres!" another voice called out and Kirian hurried over to them. "Do any of you have cases I can work on?"

Callie narrowed her eyes at him. "What happened to plastics?"