The Anatomical Events of Iris Ruby Graham /Greys Anatomy/

Fate of the Paramedics and Lexies funeral antics.

Iris lay staring blankly at the ceiling of her bland room. She didn't mind the bland. She actually quite liked it. It was calming, less distracting than the children's ward. How she hated the children's ward. And not to mention that paediatric surgeons creeped her out. Dr. Robbins was okay though, she didn't quite despise Alex Karev either.

But it was Dr. Shepherd, the neurosurgeon she hated the most. Him and his ways. He had ways. Ways of making everything so medical and professional. He never slipped up, and when he did no one noticed.

Iris and Meredith Grey had bonded easily since the day Iris came in. She had passed out again, violently that time. Iris was attending a funeral twenty minutes before the incident. She couldn't take the crying family members and weeping children. They didn't know fifteen year old, suicidal Lexie like she did. Lexie was Iris' friend. More than friend. Sister. Lexie was Iris' friend-more-than-friend-sister. And the funeral was mainly for them, the weeping crew of fake mourners, and them alone. Lexie and Iris never liked funerals. The reason Iris fled was because the priest had begun talking about all the icky, pretentious things Lexie wasn't. Iris ran. She didn't know where or why but she ran. She ran until her heart switched to survival mode. Survival mode meant panic attack, and those didn't generally end well.

She'd passed out in a heap next to the bridge on Trestle Street. A women stopped to call the nearest ambulance. The sirens filled the air with their deafening wail and pulled up to Iris' tear stained, black clothed, tired body.

"Charge to 300" ...