"Sydney Heron, fourth year. My philosophy is, just so you know, heal with love."

The bubbly fourth year medical student, who doesn't seem as sleep-deprived or exhausted as a third year, stands in front of us with a bright smile.

But the second she lets us know we can pick what part of the hospital to work in, the five of us — since George is still cowering behind the picket lines — run off.

Meredith and I head towards the O.R. board to scout potential surgeries to scrub in on. But the sight of him is enough to make me leave.

"I've got to talk to the chief." She mutters into my ear. "You can share a few words just like you would with any doctor."

I nod my head once, signaling to her I can do this. She walks to Chief Webber while I take baby steps to the sole man responsible for ruining my life.

"Leven. What a pleasant surprise." Lennox greets me with a gentle grin.

"Hello, Lennox." The smile I give him fails to meet the eyes. "Any. . .interesting cases today?"

He clasps his hands together. "I have a pregnant teen with a spinal tumor. A bit tricky, but I can save them both."

"Good. That's good."

The awkwardness settles into the cracks of our unmendable relationship as I rock back and forth on my heels.

"Has Dr. Shepherd given you the —"

"Yes, he has."

"And?"

"And I came out positive. Few more tests later, it was confirmed." My shoulders shrug nonchalantly. "I still have high levels of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease."

His tongue clicks against his teeth. "God, Leven, I'm —"

"It's fine. There's nothing you or anyone can do about it." I run a hand through my hair. "I just need to start receiving treatment. . .for the rest of my life."

Not wanting to continue the conversation, I leave him by the surgical board. I bump into Dr. Shepherd on my way upstairs.

"Leven. Hi."

"Dr. Shepherd."

His hand grips my forearm comfortably before he leads me to a more private area. I glance behind him, making sure no one can see either of us.

The neurosurgeon slips his hand into his coat pocket and passes me a card.

"What's this?"

"A doctor. For your treatment."

An unnerving chuckle leaves my lips. "Dr. Shepherd, I think I can find a doctor myself."

"Dr. Henry Barrinski, a reputable cardiologist in the area, has been treating your father ever since he arrived." He closes my fingers over the card.

"I really don't think I should —"

"He can help you, Leven."

Only then do I realize both of his hands are on me. His left continues to grip my forearm while his right holds my closed fist.

"I'll take you there myself. Tomorrow morning."

"Damn it, Shepherd, you have a wife."

Reluctantly, I remove myself from his grasp and walk away. But the card is still in my hand as the inner dilemma begins.

Late into the night after the end of our shift, the five of us gather in Joe's bar to drink and complain about our shifts.

"She called me unkind. Unkind and lacking in compassion. In front of my boyfriend!" Cristina downs another shot. "I am not unkind."

Meredith stares off into space. "I think I have to kill a woman tomorrow. I have to take out the tube that's keeping her alive."

"Shepherd's taking me to see a cardiologist in the morning."

"McDreamy Shepherd?"

I crack open a few peanut shells. "I don't understand why he's putting more effort into my health than I am."

"Because he —"

"Don't say it, Mer."

"Don't say what?" Izzie finally snaps from her daydream trance. "What's happening?"

"Leven's dying, so Dr. Feel Good's taking her to a cardiologist." Alex tosses a maraschino cherry into his mouth.

My eyes roll. "I'm not dying, Alex. He just wants to help. . .for some reason." An unfortunate breath leaves through my nose.

"He doesn't want to see you die."

"I'm nowhere near dying."

After a few more glasses of club soda, I return home to relax before the whirlwind of emotions storm down. The next morning, I drive to the address on the back of the card and notice two familiar men standing in front of the building.

"Dr. Shepherd, I only agreed to meet you here." The harsh glare is trained in his direction. "You never mentioned bringing my father."

"I want to make sure my daughter is receiving the best of the best care." Lennox squints his eyes from the blinding sun.

"Dr. Shepherd?"

"Derek?"

Puzzled by the situation in his hands, Dr. Shepherd lets out a hesitant sigh, nodding in my direction and agreeing to my conditions.

"Lennox, we'll meet later. In an hour or so."

"I still have a job to go to after this, you know."

"Dr. Heron's given you the day off."

A hefty growl erupts in the back of my throat as I follow him into the practice. We shake hands with Dr. Barrinski before sitting in his office.

He flips open a file from the last time I had the pacemaker implanted.

"So, Ms. Phoenix —"

"It's Dr. Phoenix." I correct him with confidence. "I didn't go through medical school just to be labeled as a Miss."

The older doctor chuckles lightly, shaking his head. "There's no question. You are your father's daughter."

I go to stand up, to yell at him for similarizing that man to me. But Dr. Shepherd grazes his hand over my own, keeping me still.

"From what I can see here, you're in the second stage of H.C.M. and the first stage of C.O.P.D., which is good."

"But if I don't get the right treatment early on, it'll become worse."

From the corner of my eye, I notice the neurosurgeon beside me staring at the cardiologist intently, as if he was actually paying attention.

"You don't smoke, do you?"

"I've never touched a packet of cigarettes, doc."

"And alcohol?"

"Haven't had a sip of wine in my entire life." I relax into my chair. "But I do live off of coffee. And the occasional chai. They're my only sources of caffeine."

"Caffeine is perfectly fine to consume, Dr. Phoenix." He assures me. "Now I've noticed you were diagnosed with anemia."

I scratch the back of my neck. "I'm quite the case, aren't I?"

"We'll start with propranolol, a beta blocker that will help with the anemia." He starts jotting down the prescription. "And diltiazem, a calcium channel blocker."

"Is that all?"

"You'll need to come here every two weeks."

After receiving the prescription and scheduling the next appointment, Dr. Shepherd and I finally walk out of the building. By then, Lennox has already left for work.

"Did you want to —"

"I have patients, Dr. Shepherd."

I push my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose before driving off to the hospital, which takes a bit longer since the practice is in the opposite direction. I take some time to change into my scrubs and prepare for work.

The moment I walk through those doors and see my father standing near the O.R. board, everything inside of me crumbles. All of the walls of confidence I had built up fall apart.

My breath wavers thin as I force myself into the linen closet.

"Just breathe, Leven." I urge verbally. "Take a deep breath before someone comes —"

I sink to the floor, my back against the metal carts with supplies. My fingernails claw at my throat as I feel my oxygen levels lower.

"Leven —"

The door opens ever so slightly, revealing Dr. Shepherd. I concentrate on regaining a normal breath, but to no avail I struggle.

Dr. Shepherd crouches down in front of me. "Leven. Leven, look at me."

My eyes shift to meet his and interlock. His left hand reaches to cup my cheek, the other clasping the top of my knee.

"Slow down. Just slow down." He comforts in a soothing tone. "Follow my breath. I want you to breathe with me."

Our chests rise and fall synchronously as my breath relaxes. I shut my eyes and tilt my head back while he continues padding his thumb against my cheek.

He whispers words of content. "You're okay. I'm right here, Leven. You're okay."

"I. . ." My head falls against my knees, and his hand moves to the back of my head. "I'm scared of dying."

"Your words are getting muffled, Leven."

With a single breath, I look up at him, tears brimming my eyes.

"I'm scared of dying."