𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

nine | holidays

"She's almost as wide as she is tall."

"Are her ankles swollen? Is that why she's waddling?"

"What's gonna happen to us when she leaves?"

"Leave? She's going on leave?"

"Do you really think she's gonna come back the day after she pushes a baby out of her vagina?"

"Are we gonna get a new resident?"

"No. Probably just let us all walk around unattended. See how much damage we can do."

"Yeah, well, you would know."

The group of six interns fall into a pit of silence as we stop by the nurses' station. Izzie comes up with the idea to buy a Christmas gift for Bailey and the baby, to which George and Meredith surprisingly agree.

"Hey."

Dr. Shepherd's voice rings from behind, and I slow my pace. Together, we walk side by side, distancing ourselves more from the group.

"Holidays getting you down?"

"Very much so." He twists the cord to his earphones. "How'd you know?"

My shoulders shrug. "I'm the same way when it comes to this time of year." With a weak grin, I walk back to the others.

After rounds, Bailey assigns Alex and Meredith to the pit — another name for the emergency room area, Cristina to the U.N.O.S. transplant case, George to the gastric ulcer patient, and I get the one with all of the kids.

"Uh, Dr. Shepherd?"

Both doctors turn around at the sound of the voice. Dr. Addison Montgomery-Shepherd returns to flipping through a Christmas catalog while Dr. Derek Shepherd approaches me.

"The C.T. scans for Mr. Epstein are back."

His hand grazes the top of my own when he takes the film from me. Together, we walk down the rest of the hallway towards his room.

"And it was only one day of oil."

"It lasted eight whole days and nights!"

"And it was a miracle!"

"I wanted to say that part."

Not wanting to disturb their story-telling session, I quietly knock on the door, grabbing the entire family's attention.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you and your family, Mr. Epstein." A mild smile appears on my face. "You remember Dr. Shepherd, right?"

"Should we, um, talk more privately?" The neurosurgeon suggests.

The wife shakes her head. "Just tell us." She  sits up from the adjacent bed. "Is it bad?"

"Mr. Epstein, the fall has caused a subdural hematoma —" He begins.

"I don't even know what that means." One of the daughters, Leah, crosses her arms over her chest.

"It means your dad. . .his brain is bleeding."

". . .great."

"Look, there are some risks to the surgery." He faces Mrs. Epstein. "It has to happen before the bleeding gets worse."

"What kind of risks?" His wife frowns slightly.

"The bleed is in an area of the brain that controls speech and motor control." He replies.

"We don't need the operation."

"You know, Jake, I think we do."

"Hey, honey. You know something else?"