flatline [m.s]

xxxv.

- - -
surgeons are all messed up. we're butchers, messed up knife happy butchers. we cut people up, we move on. patients die on our watch, we move on. we cause trauma, we suffer trauma.
- - -

"hey, i was thinking, you know, that, uh, that i'm not going back to new york any time soon. and that i should, uh, have left the hotel a while ago," mark says nervously with his hands in his lab coat pockets, as he approaches lia who is filling out some charts. "so i was thinking i'd start looking for a condo."

"perfect," lia smiles, looking up from her charts. "and then you'd finally have a place of your own."

"actually, i was, you know, thinking maybe you'd, uh, you'd come with me," he says, with a shy smile as her eyes stay fixed on him.

"absolutely. no, i- i... i would love to see it. i'm so happy for you," she smiles before picking up her charts and walking away.

as mark stands there unsure of what to do now, he hears derek clear his throat from behind, causing him to spin around to face him. "how much of that did you hear?"

"you mean the part where you asked her to move in with you, or the part where she shot you down? i was here for both," derek reveals, amusement clearly evident on his face. "by the way, it's just way to early for you to be moving in with lia. you don't have to do everything i do."

"this is not about you," mark frowns. "i have my own future to think about. life is short. i already lost her once. i just want to show her how serious i am about her."

■ ■ ■

"okay, yang," lia says, turning to face cristina after she has finished examining her patient, mr. murray, and they are stood in the corridor. "i want you to take this down to path for a biopsy and then catheterise mrs. livingstone whilst i prep the o.r for her surgery."

"why?" cristina asks, clearly unimpressed with lia's instructions.

"because i'm asking you to," lia tells her, handing her the sample she extracted to be biopsied.

"but that's intern work," cristina points out.

"yang," lia says in a warning tone, to remind her about how she said she was going to teach her.

"right," she falsely smiles in realisation. "the basics. i love the basics."

"that's what i like to hear," lia chuckles, turning to walk away from the resident. "i'll see you in the o.r."

■ ■ ■

"i wasn't asking you to come see the condo," mark blurts out when he enter the scrub room and catches lia scrubbing out of her surgery. "i was asking you to move in with me... if that's what you want."

"i do," she smiles one she's finished scrubbing out so that she can turn to face him.

"you do?" he asks hopeful, yet surprised.

"yeah," she nods. "not right away."

"no, of course not," mark agrees. "in, like, a year."

"ten years," lia says at the exact same time as mark estimates one year.

"i'm sorry, what now?" mark raises his brow, and nervously scratches his beard.

"oh, um, well, because i'm still so young in the field so i still have so much to prove, and... i've been looking to start a new specialty which basically takes me back to residency," lia rambles. "so... how about seven?"

"how about five years?" he attempts to negotiate.

"i'll still be new to a field, and throwing myself into learning like i did in med school," lia frowns.

"so?" mark shakes his head and furrows his brow in confusion. "meredith's a resident, cristina's a resident- all married or soon to be, and happily... or whatever."

"i'm sorry. are you asking me-" lia cuts herself off with a chuckle before continuing. "to- to- to marry you?"

"no," mark nervously laughs, before changing his expression back to serious. "why? would you?"

"um, should we be having this conversation?" she nervously asks, trying to avoid his gaze.

"no, probably not."

"no, i-i... that's... okay," lia rambles before brushing past mark and exiting the scrub room.

- - -
we don't have time to worry about all the blood and death and crap it really makes us feel. doesn't matter how tough we are, trauma always leaves a scar. it follows us home, it changes our lives, trauma messes everybody up, but maybe that's the point.
- - -

"so... how did your date go?" lia asks bailey, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

"oh grow up," bailey rolls her eyes with a smile, and lia chuckles. "i told you there was nothing special about a third date and that it was just you spending too much time with sloan."

"so you didn't have sex?"

"no we did not," bailey confirms. "that's the last time i come to you for relationship advice."

"i don't blame you, mark is avoiding me," lia informs her.

"sloan's avoiding you?" bailey raises a brow.

"he asked me to move in with him... and marry him? kind of... i guess," lia shrugs. "and i'm not ready, i'm twenty three."

"sloan asked you to marry him?" bailey shakes her head in confusion.

"no- well, yeah- but, no," lia rambles. "he asked if i would marry him, whilst trying to convince me to move in with him."

"and now he's avoiding you?" bailey asks.

"yep," lia nods.

"yeah, i'm definitely never going to you for advice again," bailey shakes her head, chuckling as she walks away.

- - -
all the pain and the fear and the crap. maybe going through all of that is what keeps us moving forward. it's what pushes us. maybe we have to get a little messed up, before we can step up.
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