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It all started as a joke.
George and his friends are in the locker room putting their things away and changing into scrubs, chatting as they always do before another long day of learning and caring for patients. It’s exhausting at times but rewarding as well. Plus, seeing his friends always puts him in a good mood for a while.
George turns to watch his friends, focusing on them again instead of his internal monologue.
“Our lockers are so small,” Izzie complains, struggling to fit her items into her assigned locker. “How am I supposed to put anything in here?”
“They’re not so bad.”
“Yeah, for you, Meredith! You bring next to nothing!” Cristina exclaims. “Look in your locker, there’s barely anything in it!” She gestures to it wildly, and indeed it is nearly empty.
“Well, maybe you both just bring too much,” she replies quietly with a shrug.
“What’d you just say to me?” Cristina breaks out into a grin while Izzie protests, “I do not!”
“Is there really nothing more important to talk about?” Alex asks, shutting his own locker a little harshly. “They’re fine. End of story.”
“Oh, shut up, have a little fun once in a while.” Cristina rolls her eyes. “And they are small.”
“Care to bet on it?” Alex challenges.
Cristina quirks a brow with interest. “How so?”
“I bet you that a person could fit in one of these lockers.”
“Oh, you’re on!” They shake hands and then look around the room.
“No. No way, I’m not doing it,” Meredith says, crossing her arms. “Pick someone else.”
Their eyes land on Izzie, who shakes her head. “Leave me out of this.”
Finally they come to George, who swallows anxiously.
“What?” he asks. “Why are you looking at me?”
Cristina and Alex share a look. “Get in the locker,” Alex orders. “We need to know if you’ll fit.”
“Seriously?” He’s about to say something, but they’re already pushing him to one of the lockers closest to the floor. He struggles but can’t escape. “All right, fine! I’m getting in…”
He slowly crawls into the locker and curls up into as tight and small of a ball as he can physically get. He’s cramped, and certainly uncomfortable, but lo and behold - he fits inside.
He attempts to slide right back out but someone stops him with a heavy weight.
“No,” Cristina says. “We have to see if it closes. That’s the real problem.”
George tries to contest this, but he doesn’t think anyone is listening. He’s already sweating bullets here, feeling the walls closing in from all corners. He needs to get out and move and run away from everything and this stupid tiny locker that has him smushed up, pressed almost painfully into a hard edge. This feels like a personal hell.
Why the hell did he agree to do this?
Oh, right, he didn’t.
He sighs and tries to take a deep breath, feeling himself grow dizzy at the lack of oxygen he’s already getting.
“I’m climbing out,” he says sternly. “Let me out.”
“Oh, suck it up, baby boy. It’s two minutes,” Alex says, rolling his eyes. “Go on, close it.”
“Wait - ”
He sticks his hand out but it’s too late. It hits metal.
The metal of the closed locker door.
“Guys-” he says immediately, his discomfort increasing tenfold. “Okay, I’m in, now please let me out.” He knows he’s being weak right now, giving in to his fears, but he can’t think straight when the only thing running through his head is danger. High amounts of adrenaline flood his system as he presses on the door.
“Yeah, yeah. We’re doing it.” Just to mess with him, Alex kicks the locker door. It shakes and makes a loud bang. George flinches hard and hits his head on the back of the locker. He winces and groans in pain, but when he goes to touch his head his arms hit the sides and a spike of fear jolts through him just knowing how small the area is around him.
“Hey, cut it out,” Izzie says. “Don’t do that.” George tries to figure out what’s going on outside, but all he can see is darkness with little slats of light. He still appreciates her sticking up for him, and he tries to communicate this nonverbally, but it doesn’t quite come across.
A loud clatter tells him Alex kicked it again to fight back against Izzie’s statement. “He’s fine! He’s such a crybaby.”
George flinches back at the loud noise and this time hits his knees. He knows he’s going to be covered in bruises later. He just needs to get out of here before he loses his breath. He’s panting and sweating and his hands are shaking and he doesn’t think he can stay in here much longer but it seems like he doesn’t have a choice -
-his hands shake even harder when he tries to open the locker from the inside and it doesn’t work.
“Please let me out,” he begs. “I don’t want to be here anymore.” It’s weak and quiet but Meredith still hears him over the fighting. Alex, Izzie, and Cristina are presumably arguing with each other, unless Cristina left… which he can’t tell, since he can’t see.
“It’s okay.” He can glimpse Meredith’s face from one of the slats in the locker. He peers outside his cage and sees she’s bent her knees, one gentle hand grasping the locker for support. “Are you okay? Here, let me get you out.”
She fiddles with the lock and then goes quiet for a moment.
“Mer?” he asks quietly. “Mer?” he asks again, louder, a little more frantic.
“It’s locked,” she says, and he just knows she’s got that sheepish concerned look on her face.
He pales considerably and he thinks he might be about to pass out. Every ounce of him trembles as he hits the locker.
“A- are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, it’s locked.”
“Wait, locked?” he hears someone ask. “Seriously? He’s stuck in there?” the person starts to laugh a little and from that alone he can tell it’s Cristina.
“You have to get me out of here!” George exclaims, shaking the locker. “I can’t stay in here much longer.”
“Chill out, O’Malley.”
He groans and leans his head back, trying to even out his breaths while his friends talk around him. The room is spinning and he can’t breathe and everything is going dark already. He feels sick and weak and shaky and sweaty and everything is just so wrong.
He holds his breath for a minute once he realizes how harshly he’s breathing, how quickly he’s taking in breaths and exhaling them. The oxygen just isn’t getting where it needs to go. His lungs aren’t filling enough. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to pretend he’s anywhere else even though he can feel all six sides of the locker pressing against him. His short curls are clenched tightly in his hands.
“George?” a soft voice asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He opens his eyes and glances to the outside world but he can’t tell who’s there.
“Yeah?” he asks shakily. His voice is quiet and hoarse. He hadn’t realized it earlier, but now he can tell his cheeks are wet from tears.
“Are you okay?”
“Um… sorry if this is rude,” he starts, wiping his face and sniffling slightly, “but who are you?”
They chuckle. “It’s me, Izzie. Cristina left fighting with Alex and Meredith is looking for an object to hit the lock with.” He nods.
“Thank you.”
“Are you doing okay?” She tilts her head, worry written all over her face that he can’t see.
“No,” he says. “I’m not.” He takes a sharp breath. “I don’t like being in here.” That is a complete understatement.
“Do you need anything?”
“Can you just -” he shakes his head- “can you just distract me, please?”
“Sure,” she says warmly. “It’s okay. So, yesterday, I was trying to make the most delicious brownies ever, and of course I’m very good at baking now since it’s my coping mechanism, but anyways. I was just done mixing the batter when…”
She talks and talks and talks, and George listens happily. She would have gone on forever if that’s what it took to make her friend happy. As it is, she talks until Meredith comes back and they break the lock.
The door swings open, finally. He takes a deep breath as he finally escapes the cramped prison that is someone’s random locker.
“Thank you,” he says, the world still spinning as he crawls out on his hands and knees. Once he orients himself, he stands on jelly legs and finally steadies himself.
Meredith and Izzie watch him carefully as he wipes his eyes and stumbles. “I’m okay, really. I just have claustrophobia,” he explains as they lead him outside the hospital and onto a bench. It’s raining outside, but only slightly, and it feels so good to breathe again.
Meredith sits with him quietly, a rock, a grounding force, while Izzie talks lightly about her day. George tries to breathe and feels himself regaining color.
Cristina settles down next to him, handing him a sandwich without saying anything. But he can tell she’s really sorry about what happened, so he smiles and takes it. He eats it and feels himself getting less faint.
As for Alex, he simply watches from the hospital doors, making sure George is okay without doing anything particular to show he’s a wuss with feelings. But he has to make sure he didn’t fuck up too badly.
Even though he’s had a long day, it makes him happy knowing all his friends are there to make sure he’s okay in their own ways.
He wouldn’t change it for the world.