Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟮𝟱 (ouch)

𝙓𝙓𝙑.
[ OUCH ]

──────

"SO MUCH FOR being a hotshot shrink, huh?"

I glowered at the nurse as he smirked at me, holding an ice pack in one and hand and his pager in the other. I snatched the ice pack from him, scowling at his smug expression, but let out a hiss of pain as I tenderly placed it to my forehead. 

Eli, who had rushed into the room as soon as Tom Crowley had escaped, had plucked me off of the floor as if I weighed nothing and helped me onto a gurney. He just chuckled, shaking his head as if the sight of me was too painful to even watch. It took every inch of my self-control not to stick my tongue out at him like some agitated child as he goaded and teased me.

I'd been unconscious for barely five minutes, according to Eli. He'd roused me from my unconsciousness, explained that I had a nasty cut on the top of my head and referred to me as "Sleeping Beauty" multiple times. 

If irritation was some sort of pain medication, I wouldn't have minded, but somehow it just made the situation worse. I pursed my lips, already having some of the leftover gauzes Alex had brought for Tom, wrapped tightly around the incision on my face; from what I'd heard from Eli, he'd found me lying on the floor with blood dripping down my face and Lexie Grey sprawled behind me, conscious but disorientated from hitting her head against the hard, brick exterior wall.

It didn't help that I'd cut myself on some of the shards of porcelain from the vase; my hands were littered with small cuts, all that would pester me for the next week or so, I was sure of it. Eli had told me, rather firmly, that he'd paged Plastics and that someone would come and get my forehead sorted out for me-- I wasn't to leave this gurney, Lexie was sorting out finding Tom and that was that. 

As much as I wanted to argue with him, I figured that Lexie was reasonably adequate at accomplishing things; the last time I'd lost a patient, I'd had to work with Alex and George, and although they were both distinctively, um, charming, they hadn't quite been Sherlock and Holmes.

"I called security, they're on their way."

The red-haired nurse from came bustling over to Eli, looking mildly stressed at the thought of a patient disappearing. At the mention of security, I leant forward, my face contorting. Security should have been here ages ago, that had been one of the first things Alex had requested when moving Tom into his private room. 

Eli turned to the other nurse, nodding slowly as he shot me a brief glance.

"What about Psych?" Eli questioned, his eyebrows bunched together as she sighed.

"I've paged them twice-- but-"

"You've got me." 

I finished for the nurse, letting out a long, exhausted breath. The nurse nodded quickly, rolling her lips together and letting her gaze linger on the blood that probably lingered on my skin. I gave her an empathetic but borderline bitter (at the situation, not at the woman herself) smile.

 "Page again, but specifically Dr Chaudhry, she'll be able to help."

Silently, the nurse followed my orders, but we were all interrupted by the sound of a hurried surgical intern approaching us. 

My mood worsened as Lexie came bounding along, looking as though she'd faired better than me in that room; her eyes were locked on the nurse, not quite taking into account either Eli or my impassive expression as I drowned in self-pity.