ℙ𝔼ℝ𝕄𝔸ℕ𝔼ℕ𝕋 - ɢʀᴇʏ'ꜱ ᴀɴᴀᴛᴏᴍʏ

𝟎𝟎𝟒. 𝐨𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭

chapter four
oh, the guilt

"She's losing it," Meredith muttered, shoving her bag into her locker with a sharp clang. "She almost battered and deep-fried an eight and a half million dollar check this morning."

Cristina snorted, tugging her scrub top into place. "That kind of money, I'd buy my own hospital."

"And stock it full of sick people," Blake added with a smirk, leaning her shoulder against the metal locker.

"Just imagine the valvuloplasties and ruptured aneurysms..." Cristina's eyes sparkled, her grin borderline feral.

George, who had been fumbling with his locker combination, looked up, half-horrified. "You two are psycho. You know that, right?"

"You're the one who was attracted to the psycho," Blake quipped, shooting him a sideline glance. George huffed, his cheeks coloring, as he turned back to his locker.

"And I'm not the one with an eight-and-a-half million dollar check I won't cash," Cristina shot back, rolling her eyes.

"Stop talking about me," Izzie's voice cut through the chatter. She sat on the bench, stuffing her things into a worn duffel bag. "I'm fine. I'm cleaning out my locker, and I'm going home."

"Finally," Blake muttered under her breath. The words were quiet, but the bite was unmistakable.

Izzie stilled, her hand clenched around the zipper of her bag. Slowly, she turned to Blake, her expression a mix of hurt and anger. "Do you have a problem with me?" She demanded, voice low but trembling. Her eyes searched Blake's face, hoping—maybe even daring her—to deny it. "Because you've been ignoring me ever since Denny died."

Blake's gaze was cold and steady, her jaw set. After a beat, she slammed her locker shut with a metallic echo that made George flinch. "Like I said," she replied evenly, "finally."

For a moment, silence fell over them. Meredith shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two women, while Cristina just crossed her arms, watching with an inscrutable expression.

Izzie swallowed, her face falling as Blake's words sank in. She looked down at her duffel, her fingers twisting around the strap. "Right," she whispered. "Glad we're on the same page, then."

She yanked her bag off the bench and strode out. As the door swung shut behind her, no one moved, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, George spoke, his voice barely a murmur. "She really loved him, you know."

Blake's jaw tightened, but she didn't respond. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

▼▲▼

The interns gathered around Dr. Bailey in a loose half-circle, shuffling nervously as they waited for her to assign their work for the day. Bailey glanced at each of them, her expression steely and unreadable.

"M&M in fifteen minutes, people," she informed them briskly.

Alex's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, we get to go to the M&M?" He asked, half in disbelief, half in excitement.

"Even if we haven't started our rounds?" Blake chimed in, her tone cautious, as if she needed to double-check this unexpected privilege.

Bailey nodded. "Even if." Her gaze swept over the group, sharp and uncompromising. "I want all of you at the M&M today."