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chapter thirty ✧ life or death ( season seven, episode eighteen )
❝ if today has taught me anything, it's life is too short to have regrets. ❞
𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 as he looked into the OR at the plastics surgeon currently finishing an operation. He couldn't believe that he had to be the one to break the news to the father-to-be. Derek had been his first thought, but he was standing outside of the hospital waiting for the ambulance. Lexie was unusually quiet which left only him.
It had to be him.
"Dr. Sloan," he said, walking into the OR. "Are you almost done here?"
"I'm good in two seconds," Mark replied, not looking up from his work. "What's up?" The resident stayed silent and he briefly looked up. "Oliver?"
"I'll—I'll wait," he answered quietly, shaking his head. "You—You finish first."
Mark shrugged. "I rocked this mandibular repair," he said and Oliver bit the inside of his cheek. "You'd never know this guy's jaw was broken in five places. I'm somewhat of an artist. Not Picasso, because then his jaw would be on his forehead. But like—uh—Chagall, Michelangelo." He laughed to himself while Oliver tilted his head; how was he supposed to tell him? "There, done." Mark looked up at his best friend's younger brother. "What do you got, Ollie?"
He cleared his throat. "It's Callie..."
London was standing beside April in the ambulance bay when the doors behind her opened, and she turned to find Mark Sloan running outside. Oliver was trailing behind him, and she glanced at him, giving him a small smile that he returned, albeit more sadly.
"What the hell happened?" Mark asked.
"Car versus truck," Owen replied softly, looking at the plastics surgeon. "That's all we know."
"And her injuries?" he continued, his head spinning wildly while all of the doctors who had gathered outside were watching him. "What—the baby?"
Derek shook his head. "We don't know yet."
"Well, why the—why the hell don't you know?" he demanded, rounding on his best friend. "Someone get me a trauma gown."
Richard looked at him. "Mark, you need to sit this one out."
"I'm not sitting this one out," he replied with a frown, shaking his head. "That's Callie, that's my kid."
Oliver let out a breath. "Which is why you know you can't."
"I'm sorry," Richard said gently. "You can't be a doctor on this one."
