Damsel- [MARK SLOAN 1]

fourteen

FOURTEEN:

"What the hell happened to this guy? Was he hit by a bus?" Mark Sloan exclaimed while he walked into the O.R. after scrubbing in for the surgery. Derek Shepherd was trying to salvage what he could on the patients brain when Mark rudely walked into the operating room.

Derek continued working on the patient while he snapped at his friend, "You don't know his story, let's not make an assumptions."

"Yeah but I'm guessing from the depth of these wounds, he's roadkill. I can try to stitch up what I can, but you should page Torres for a possibly amputation." Mark suggests, looking at a nurse who nods in his direction. She runs out of the room, letting Mark turn his attention back to the arm.  "Three-O silk, please."

"You're an ass." Derek mumbles, causing Mark to chuckle lightly before he begins his work. The nurse runs back in, a panic look on her face.

"Dr. Sloan, Dr. Torres isn't on-call. Do you want me to page Dr. Stanley?" She questions Mark as he becomes confused. Just before he was paged, he was walking with her towards the cafeteria talking about the surgeries she has lined up for her later?

He looked up with a confused look on his face, "What do you mean she's not on-call? I was just talking to her no more then five minutes ago."

"There's a VIP patient in the emergency room. Gunshot wound to the shoulder. The patient is in critical condition, and that's all they would let me know. Do you want me to page Dr. Stanley?" The nurse explains while Mark sighs, shaking his head.

"The idiot does a hack of a job already, why should I trust him with a blade? Nurse, grab my cell phone on the table and call Callie Torres please." The Plastic Surgeon instructs, still focused on the work before him. He hears shuffling around in the back of the O.R. before his phone is put in front of his mouth, ready for him to speak.

Callie's voicemail filled the air as Mark let out an irritated sigh, setting his surgical instruments down of the tray in front of him. Derek looks up from his position to observe his best friend's behavior, a small groan escaping his lips.

"Mark, don't just give up on the arm-"

"There's nothing to salvage here, Derek! It looks like a dog toy!" Mark tells him, pointing down to the arm. Derek looks in his direction, sighing.

"Yeah, you are right. Nurse, page Callie Torres. I don't care if she's not on call or who the VIP patient is, she will come in for this surgery." Derek orders, while the nurse simply nods her head towards the chief, rushing towards the phone to dial Callie.