flatline [m.s]

cxxxi.

- - -
as surgeons, we are our brother's keepers. ride or die. womb to tomb. we see each other's fears. we see the white knuckle panic of failure. we see ourselves.
- - -

"no!" lia shouts, brushing her hair in the mirror, as mark gets ready behind her and they look at one another through it.

"yes!" mark argues back.

"no. if you report him-" lia begins, turning around so that she is facing mark properly.

"he's an alcoholic!" mark cuts her off.

"he's my dad! if you report him it will be the end of his career," lia points out. "you don't give people any room. flaws are unacceptable to mcsteamy."

"don't 'mcsteamy' me," mark scoffs.

"mcsteamy is being a mcass," lia says, turning back to the mirror and resuming brushing her hair.

"he is an alcoholic," mark reiterates. "how long has he been drinking? since the holidays?"

"what, do you want to take notes so you can show it to the board so they can offer you his job on the spot?" lia challenges. "you want his job. you know it and i know it."

"i'm the head of plastic surgery. i have a responsibility to this hospital," mark argues.

"admit you want to be chief," lia shouts.

"alright. you know what? i'm done having this argument," mark shakes his head as he picks up his keys and begins to head towards the door. "i'm going to the board. i'm reporting richard."

"darci," lia calls after him, causing him to stop and turn back to look at her with disbelief. she then holds up her left hand and gestures to her engagement ring. "and this ring."

"you can't do that," mark steps forward. "you can't call darci and the- the ring."

"i am calling it," lia holds her ground. "because i told my secret about my dad to my fiancé- not the head of plastic surgery, my fiancé- which i have to be able to do if this marriage is going to work. so the laws of engagement clearly prevail."

"this is wrong," mark tells her.

"ring," lia simply states.

"the chief-" mark begins, but is cut off by lia.

"ring," lia repeats more forcefully, and mark exhales deeply.

"fine. i won't tell," mark sighs.

"fine," lia agrees before a smile slowly begins to spread across her cheeks.

"damn it. you just make me want to..." mark chuckles, stepping across the room to close the gap between them. he then grabs her on either side of her face, pulling her in for a kiss.

- - -
and who the hell likes looking at that? we walk through these doors as interns, chips on our shoulders. loners. lesser rockstars on the verge of greatness.
- - -

mark is sat in the dark on the couch of one the doctor's lounges, when derek enters carrying an armful of supplies. he begins to stuff the supplies into the closet, unaware that mark is there.