Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟱𝟯 beth

𝙇𝙄𝙄𝙄.
"BETH"

──────

um a big trigger warning

a lot of death, a lot blood, a lot of angst
would not recommend reading it honestly

MARK HAD WATCHED her die before.

Back then it had been slow. 

As subtle and silent as closing your eyes and simply drifting to sleep. He'd watched her slice herself into little cuttings like a flower that was too pretty to be alone. 

She'd wilted and withered and he'd watched it happen. 

He hadn't been able to look away. 

He'd been too close to it, too intimately linked to the way that the light seemed to dwindle in her eyes and her shoulders slowly sagged.

She'd teetered and fell and fell hard. He'd been there, he'd witnessed it.

Death had started the day he'd found the bottle of pills at the bottom of her purse. She'd asked him to find her apartment keys. He'd rifled through and pulled them out, that little screw cap with that little label. 

She'd walked in and caught him frowning at them. She'd very noticeably halted.

"Adderall," Beth had said. 

It was said very quietly, casually and with a shrug of her shoulders, but she hadn't been able to meet his eyes. There'd been a brief pause and she'd kept walking. 

She'd skirted around him, pulled her purse out of his hands and taken the pills too. "I've been having some trouble focusing at work— it's no big deal."

He'd stood there and just stared at her. "Where did you get them from?"

"A doctor in Brooklyn," She'd shrugged. Again. "It's really no big deal— they just help me keep up with everything. Juggling all of this work is getting a bit," A brief grimace as she stuffed the bottle to the bottom of her bag again and shoved it on a hanger, "A bit... heavy."

No big deal had spiralled. It'd become a very big deal. It'd become the biggest deal in Beth's life. It'd consumed her and he'd just stood and watched. He'd watched that happen and now, now he was watching this.

Heavy. What felt heavy was the feeling that Mark had just watching Lexie's face.

He had to look at the floor. He couldn't bring himself to look anywhere else.

But then he couldn't look anywhere at all— he squeezed his eyes closed, tried to organise his thoughts and tried to ground himself. His hands were shaking very slightly. 

A telltale tremor like the beginning of an earthquake. 

He licked his lips, he opened his mouth and then he closed it. When he opened his eyes, he only allowed himself to look at Alex.

The surgical resident was gazing back at him. 

His head was propped on the pillow. His eyes were dark, watery and wary. He was still bleeding, he was still suffering— and he was staring at the look on Mark's face. 

Everyone was. 

Mark could feel all of them just staring at him.

Beth wasn't looking. Her eyes were shut. Her eyes were closed as if she was lying in an open casket. She wasn't looking but they were— Two was a crowd.