𝙓𝙇𝙑𝙄.
HOW TO BREAK A HEART.

──────

Okay.

A disclaimer.

Technically, Charlie and I hadn't been together when I'd had drunken sex with Dominic Fox.

Dom and I had been a one-off. I didn't particularly remember it either. It'd been back when I'd been struggling with sobriety. It had been a single night that was very much vodka filled. It'd been a layover flight between France and Boston and I'd been very, very drunk. I'd left before we could speak about it and I hadn't seen Dom since.

I'd done both Dom and Charlie dirty. 

Sleeping with your almost boyfriends best friend was a certified dick move. There had been absolutely no feelings on my part involved, just a very big bottle of vodka and very persistent alcohol addiction. I'd never spoken about it to anyone aside from Eli. 

It'd been a very matter-of-fact conversation and Eli had insisted that it wasn't cheating. It felt like cheating to me so I was very reluctant to call it anything else.

Dom was in town because there was some sort of family reunion going on and he wanted to cover all of his bases in case his aunt's father-in-law got sick. Said father-in-law, apparently, was very ill and needed a medical team on standby a lot. Also, apparently he was going around to all of the hospitals in Seattle, checking them out as his family's lawyer to make sure that the hospitals were up to code. 

It sounded dramatic but I was familiar with his family: high profile, extremely public and very famous in the surgical world. I'd heard it through Meredith who sat with me during my lunch break four days after Dom turned up. She had no qualms talking to me as I knew exactly who Dom's aunt's father-in-law was.

Thankfully, there was no reason for me to be anywhere near him or his family. That was until, three days later, when Dom wheeled Harper Avery into the ER and sent shockwaves through the hospital.

"Dom mentioned he saw you on the conference call," Charlie made light conversation. 

He was on his way home, waiting for his flight in the airport over in Boston. He'd been on a conference call with Dom yesterday, meaning that Dom had brought up the fact that he'd come across me in the middle of the surgical department, sandwiched between Mark and a wall. 

"He's happy to see a familiar face."

I was stood in the woman's restroom, just checking to make sure that his travel plans were going okay. Flying, even when other people were the ones doing it, never failed to make me break out in hives. I hummed to myself, washing my hands under the faucet and pressed my phone in my shoulder.

Happy was definitely not the word I'd use to describe how I felt.

***

NEW YORK

Everyone at ManWest went crazy for Mark.

Our introduction was very formal. He'd already been here for a week but we'd agreed that it was best if we tried our best to avoid working at the same time. Our first overlap happened when I was at the beginning of mine and he was halfway through his. 

We were in the middle of getting ready for our shift when the Chief of Surgery swung into the locker room with Mark in tow. Apparently, he found it very important to introduce us all to the latest member of staff. Our resident appeared too— he introduced us each individually. Mark stood in the doorway, a little smirk on his lips as he avoided meeting my eye. I was in the middle of tying my laces, stooped and ponytail hanging awkwardly across my face. 

I chuckled to myself as he very politely greeted the interns, feigning the slightest interest in the conversation.

"Guys, this is Doctor Mark Sloan, our new Plastics Attending, he'll be taking over from Doctor Kilpatrick." One by one, we each raised our hands and nodded respectfully towards the new doctor. "This is Doctor Tran, Doctor Cochran, Doctor Brooks and..." I straightened, pushing my hair out of my face. "Doctor Montgomery."

Finally, he met my eye and I tried to pretend that I hadn't showered with this man this morning.

"Nice to meet you, Doctor Montgomery." He shook my hand very professionally.

"Welcome to the team, Doctor Sloan."

It felt like the dating event round two except everyone was looking at us and we didn't have fake names to hide behind. Our handshake was very very professional, very very professional indeed. It was just the right length and our hands dropped to our sides and Mark moved onwards as if nothing had happened. 

Inwardly, I rated the exchange an 8 out of 10, there was room for improvement but he'd done very well.

As soon as he left, Faith turned to all of us, her eyes so wide that they almost fell out of her head.

"Okay, why did no one tell me the new attending was so hot?" In the corner of the room, Isaac let out a very loud snort. I watched her, a small smile playing on my face. When no one said anything, she just waved her arms around. Faith was visibly shocked by the lack of agreement. "Am I going insane? Or is that one of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life?"

God, I thought to myself, I hope Mark doesn't hear that. He really doesn't need that ego boost.

It seemed that the rest of the hospital made up for the lack of locker room talk. While I sanitised a laceration in the ER, I overheard a couple of nurses talking about him at the station. When I glanced over at them they were staring at him as he consulted a burn victim that had just come in from a construction site on the other side of the river. 

I mean... they weren't wrong. He looked very attractive in ManWest scrubs. We all wore dark maroon, and for some reason... it just worked. 

The sight alone was almost enough for me to forgive him for starting to work here. Another little pesky smile fell across my face as I finished the sanitisation.

This time approaching my suture, I didn't need to page anyone at all. After expressing my frustration over not having been mentored properly with technique, Mark (the resident hotshot who apparently was also skilled as well as handsome) had grabbed a banana and proceeded to show me how to do the perfect suture. 

It'd taken a few evenings but I'd managed to perfect it pretty quickly. Mark was, admittedly, an amazing teacher.

"I'm not saying that I'd let him... you know..."

A resident walked past, talking in an undertone to an ER tech. They glanced at Mark as they passed him and the resident made a face as if to say that actually, on second thought, she really would let him... you know. He was very casually just placing his hand on his chin, acting as if he didn't know that everyone was gawking at him. 

I sighed, shaking my head as I started my sutures. This was really going to boost his ego. I had a suspicion that by the end of this shift, his ego wasn't going to fit into the elevator up to my apartment and he was going to be very difficult to take places.

"Nice sutures," The jackass swanned by me, having finished his consultation. I didn't even glance up at him, just chewed on the inside of my cheek as I concentrated. I only looked up when he stopped, looking down as my work as if to critique. "Montgomery, right?"

"Mhm."

"You ever consider a career in Plastics?"

"Not really."

"Shame."

He moved onwards as if my little jab had been nothing and it took everything within me to not watch him leave. I finished with my patient and left the ER to head up to Ortho, the place where I'd been spending a lot of time lately. There was something cool about Ortho, broken bones were a lot of fun to put back together.

"You heard what they're saying about that new Sloan guy?" The attending up there shot me a look as I walked into the X-Ray room. She was stood in front of a board, staring at a couple of leg scans, but looked at me as I entered. I raised my eyebrows, averting my attention to the current case she was on. "They say he slept his way through Lincoln. Don't trust that man's smile— I've heard bad things, he's not worth your time Montgomery. He's a heartbreaker."

I nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

To be fair, she wasn't particularly wrong. He had slept his way into Lincoln and out too.

Ever so often, we'd be in the same place at the same time and we'd be absolute strangers. It was bizarre, pretending that you knew exactly nothing about someone. Mark had always been shit with interns, he reminded me of Archer in the way that he liked to make interns think they were expendable and like assistants. 

He took joy in making Isaac (specifically Isaac... which may have been a result of me complaining a lot about him) go and get his laundry. Poor Isaac happened to be determined to go into Plastic surgery so at some point I was pretty sure he was seeing more of my boyfriend than I was.

Mark had taken to forgetting everyone's names. If I happened to fall on the same case as him, he'd squint at me, as if he was trying to remember who I was. He'd go through a few names, 'Morgan? Mountbatten... wait no— Michaels?' and the attending I was working with would always huff as if they couldn't believe the gall of him. 

It amused me. Mark was a better actor than I'd pegged him for. Not only did everyone know him in the hospital but they were polarised over him. Quite a few of my colleagues loved him but most hated him. He was being an asshole... but he was excellent at his job.

"Montgomery, you're on Plastics."

I looked up from my bag as our resident assigned each person to their departments for the week. A certain degree of alarm rose in me and then I realised that Mark wasn't even working today— I was in the clear, I'd just have to work with a dumpy guy called Newman who for some reason was the head of the department. 

He was the sort of guy you'd expect to be a Plastic Surgeon: bleached hair and somewhat resembled a melted Ken doll. I'd very reluctantly turned up in the department and found him sat at a desk, a computer in front of him and a Bluetooth phone device clipped to his ear.

"Bethany!"

I'd already worked a handful of cases with him and every time my eye twitched constantly. He had a very wide smile that reminded me of a frog. He set his beady eyes on me and I felt my skin crawl. Ethan Newman was the sort of guy I'd cross the street if I saw he was walking towards me. 

Alarmed, he shook his head, turning back to the computer and pressing the Bluetooth into his ear.

"...No, I'm talking to an intern... not you... I know your name isn't Bethany..."

Somehow, he was the only surgeon in the hospital who had gotten close to a Harper Avery. He'd been nominated last year and I could only imagine it was the reason they'd decided to pump so much money into the department. 

I'd never bothered to read his paper so I actually didn't know what he'd done to deserve critical acclaim. However, something told me that it definitely wasn't his veneers.

They were a very startling shade of white, one that literally caused me to shiver as he flashed me another smile.

"Are you ready to get on some Plastic cases?" His phone call must have ended. He swivelled in his chair to face me, watching as I very awkwardly nodded, wishing that I could be back in Ortho like I'd been for the last fortnight. I wasn't even going to lie, I was one pick up line away from reporting this guy to the board. "Fabby-tastic Montgomery— we've got a handful of spit-roasted pigs just squealing for us to help—"

I barely blinked. His face fell.

"You know— burn patients? They're not actually roasted but—."

I just stared at him.

When he realised that I really wasn't playing ball today, he sighed, throwing his head back dramatically. 

"God, what a tough crowd— I wouldn't get this shit with Cochran." I couldn't imagine Isaac emoting anymore than I had, so I really did have a tough time believing that. I just waited for rounds to start and really hoped that Newman wouldn't speak. But, unfortunately, he had a tendency to shoot his mouth off. "I miss that guy. He has a lot of promise— not... not like you don't, Bethy, I mean look at you— a lot of promise—"

"Doctor Newman," A nurse interrupted him, causing me to exhale in relief. "You've got a page down to the ER... We've got a mass casualty coming in—"

"Ah, see, we're going to be busy today!" 

I watched as he ripped his Bluetooth out of his ear and jumped to his feet like he was in some sort of superhero movie. I could only die inside a little bit. 

"Let's go, Bethany, we've got people waiting for us—"

***

SEATTLE

Originally, the plan was that I was supposed to meet Charlie off of his flight at the airport, but then I'd ended up working later than I'd planned. I was called in to consult one of Teddy's patients. She had a hit and run patient who was suffering very badly from PTSD from a previous accident and I was needed to council them through their statement to the police. 

It was a very gruelling task and Teddy offered to buy me a coffee afterwards.

We sat in the plaza of the hospital and just people watched. I hadn't spoken to her since Charlie's dinner. She was a very comfortable person to sit with. I could tell that there was something weighing on her mind but she didn't speak it and I didn't ask. 

Instead, the two of us just sat in peace, finding a moment in our busy day to readjust. The only conversation that happened was when she quietly asked how Charlie was doing. I smiled and my reply was soft: "He's good but busy..."

Everyone was so busy. I was surprised when I saw Derek walking towards me, purpose on his face as he seemed to circle me out of the crowded plaza. As if she was sensing that we were about to have a very pressing conversation, she got to her feet and told me that she had surgery to prep. I watched her leave, not liking the intensity in Derek's eyes. 

He stood in front of me and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Can we talk in my office?" 

He'd come all this way to drag me to his office? I took a mouthful of coffee and nodded.

He still hadn't unpacked. He'd been too busy over the last few days to even think about unpacking the cardboard stacks around his desk. He gestured towards the seat opposite desk and I very calmly sat, crossing one leg over the other. 

He sat across from me and seemed to pause for a second.

"I've just come out of a meeting about the lawsuit." Ah, so he'd finally got caught up. He didn't look very happy. Again, I still felt as though I was getting pulled into the principal's office. This room seemed to give him a lot of balls. I tilted my head to the side, watching as he clasped his hands in front of him and cleared his throat. "You didn't think to tell me that you messed up?"

"And throw me under a bus?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not dumb, Derek—"

"You got involved with Petunia after she asked you very specifically to stay away from her..." He scoffed to himself and leant back in his chair, looking extremely miffed. "I have to say... it makes me question it."

We rarely had arguments like this. It was the sort of sibling arguments that I'd never had with Archer. Somehow, my older brother was the peaceful type who rarely ever took the lead in confrontation, that had always been Addison's job growing up. 

But Derek had made up for a lost time— he shook his head at me very slowly as if he was disappointed in me. It was a very brotherly look on his face but it conflicted with his shiny new office and the nameplate on his desk.

Chief of Surgery.

"I've already had a meeting with Webber," I said calmly. I also was fully prepared to lie out of my ass. "As far as I'm concerned this is all just a ploy by Petunia to mess us up a bit. I don't think she's actually going to go through with it—"

I was sure that Petunia was the type to light things on fire and take joy out of the fact when they inevitably crashed and burned.

"We had a conference call with her lawyers..." He rubbed a hand along his jaw. "She's very insistent on going ahead with the lawsuit."

"Does she have enough money to a lawsuit going?"

"She gets alimony from a billionaire, so I'm guessing so," Derek sighed. Then he paused. "I'm sure you're aware of her... demands."

"Yeah," I crossed my arms over my chest. "She's getting a little trigger happy."

Despite the stormy look in his eye, he chuckled. But the sound seemed to catch at the back of his throat. "Something like that— I hate to say it but the hospital might have to consider it if she insists on trying to drain all of the money out of this hospital." My brow furrowed. Wait what. "I can't... on good conscience let her drag down this hospital and put our patients and staff in jeopardy."

I could see the superiority complex building itself in his brain. I stared at him, caught off-guard by what he was implying. He wasn't looking at me but at the table. 

Derek had really been in this position for three days and now he was talking about suspending Mark, Arizona and I like it was for the greater good. I blinked, trying to compute what he was saying— So much for being his people.

"Hang on—"

"It's something the board is pushing me to seriously consider," He continued on his little spiel. "I just wanted you to be aware that it's on the table. They're hoping that if we begin discussions then we might avoid taking a big financial hit—this is nothing personal at all and I really, really wished that I didn't have to do this, not to you Beth—"

"Wait?" I was completely lost. "Wait- you're seriously considering suspending us? What happened to me and Mark being your people? Arizona's one of the best surgeons you have. You can't seriously—"

"Suspension?" His eyebrows bunched in confusion. "Beth, she's pushing for your dismissal... Just you."

Crap. Mark had lied so easily to me when he'd told me that Petunia wanted us suspended. He'd broken the news carefully and dismissively as if there was nothing to worry about. He'd phoned up Petunia and asked her to drop the lawsuit, drop the dismissal. 

Here Derek was, telling me that if he had to choose between his job and hospital and me, he'd choose the hospital. I didn't blame him. I would have too.

"I'm sorry Beth," Derek'd said once realisation had buried itself into my bones. "There's not a loophole for this one. I wish there was— but we need to be responsible and think about all of those people out there."

I left Derek's office slightly disorientated. I seemed to be doing that lately.

He was under the impression that there were two options. Strictly, two options. Lose money through fighting a glorified socialite in some throwaway lawsuit (for which she seemed to have a lot of evidence and a hell of a case) or lose Beth. 

As I stood on the walkway, staring down at the hospital plaza down below, I realised that there wasn't just two options.

Sometimes, you had to do things on your own terms.

Suddenly, I was on a mission. I had a possible solution to this mess and it was a definite last case scenario.

Was I prepared to fight for this job? I wasn't sure, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let Petunia burn me to the ground.

I pressed through the hospital, looking for the exact person I needed to talk to. They weren't in the reception and I couldn't get information at the desk. Security had been hiked up today and I knew that wouldn't be able to get anywhere near that hospital room that I had a feeling he was in. 

On a hunch, I went down into the plaza and yet there he was: stood in line beside a plain-clothed Jackson, waiting for a coffee at the coffee cart. I appeared between the two of them in a blink of an eye.

"Dom?" 

His head turned towards me and I watched the bemusement bloom in his eyes. He must've read the expression on my face as he stood his conversation immediately. Beside him, Jackson furrowed his eyebrows at me. 

"Hey— can I talk to you for a second?"

There was a moment of hesitation. I could see it on his face. Inwardly, I was cursing myself for being such a dumb bitch. Of course, he wouldn't want to help me. 

I'd literally walked out on him with no context and the next thing he knew, I was living and with and dating one of his best friends. I held my breath as he looked over at Jackson, shrugging and getting out his wallet. He handed the surgical intern a five-dollar bill.

"Order for me."

We walked outside, to the area that I'd taken to having all of my fun little mental breakdowns in. The weather was a fraction warmer than I'd expected it to be; the sun filled the sky and made everything appear golden. 

It hadn't struck me how late it was in the day— I squinted at the time on my phone. Well shit, Charlie would be landing around now.

Dom was stood there, staring at me expectantly. He was still wearing that coat which probably cost more than my salary and life savings combined. He still looked amused too, as if he couldn't wait for me to start speaking. 

My head almost hurt at the thought of this conversation.

"Before you say anything, this isn't about Dublin."

A layover in Dublin, far away from here actually didn't sound like a bad idea right now. He didn't say anything just nodded as if he'd expected it. We were alone in the smoking area, something that happened very rarely. I half expected him to do the Calum thing and pull out a cigarette and start smoking away— but Dom was very different from Calum. 

They were almost the same but I knew better. Dom was the smarter one, the one who was more cynical. Calum was very prone to self-sacrifice.

"I need help." Those words felt sour on my tongue and this time, Dom laughed. It made me feel small. I took a few steps towards him, playing with my fingers. "I know I said that last time will be the last time... but I really, really need your help— you still talk to Calum, yeah? Still working with him?"

Dom and Calum had helped me more times than I could count. In all honesty, I felt awful asking for their help over and again, forever getting them dragged into my problems. I supposed there was something amicable about it. Imagine giving free legal help to your ex-fiance with no questions asked? I definitely didn't deserve Calum— or Dom for that fact. 

They always came in a pair. I'd been dumb not to call them as soon as Petunia had made her first move.

"Is this about the legal case?" I couldn't contain my shock as he leant against the wall, bringing it up so casually as if discussing the weather. I opened my mouth to ask who had told him but he just rolled his eyes. "It's a public case, anyone can see the information inside it, some of the information is rescinded but you really just have to join the dots—"

"It is," I swallowed uncomfortably. "You mean to tell me that you like to spend your free time going through public lawsuit cases in Washington State?"

"We get notified if Elizabeth Forbes Montgomery pops up in any suits." I didn't like the way he said my name. He raised an eyebrow at my surprise. "Don't look so surprised Beth, you're still technically one of our clients." I pressed my lips together, I supposed it makes sense. Calum was the only lawyer I'd ever used, ever needed to use. "Imagine his surprise when Calum saw Sloan's name beside yours-"

"Right okay," I cleared my throat. "So you knew I was in Seattle?" I watched as he shrugged. For a lawyer, he wasn't very good at his defence.

"I was aware."

"Right," I let out a breath. "I need your help on the lawsuit— I'll pay legal fees. This woman is specifically trying to make my life hell. I think she's holding a grudge from shit that happened twenty years ago."

He looked amused again and my skin crawled. "A grudge? What did you do to her?"

"You don't want to know..." I didn't even know whether this was because of what I'd done specifically or because of how things ended up. I shook my head at myself and sighed for what felt like forever. "All you need to know is... I might end up with my head on the block and I don't need to get fired from another job. I already have shit references as it is..."

"Well, you could always ask us for a favour..." Dom got his phone out and started making notes. I stiffened at that word. Favour. It meant dangerous things for two lawyers who were a little bit too comfortable at their craft. "You saw how easy it was the first time."

"I thought Calum stopped doing that." My tone was very fragile and Dom glanced up at me, another shrug.

"Well... when opportunity calls..." 

Again, it was as if he was talking about something perfectly legal, something perfectly normal. Anxiously, I picked at my cuticles. Dom continued as if nothing had happened, but inside I was feeling the need to bury myself into a very, very deep hole. He tapped away on his shiny iPhone. 

"Are you asking for legal council?" Dom asked, "We might be able to send one of our staff to come out here and sit in on hearings—"

"I'm asking for a favour."

He paused and stopped typing. His glance up at me was very hesitant and this time, he was truly surprised. No acting was needed. No fake 'Oh shit I didn't realise you were in Seattle!'. He was genuinely surprised. 

Dom searched my eyes as if to make sure that I was being genuine. I could only hold his gaze for so long. I burned holes with my mind into the tarmac by our feet.

"You sure?"

I didn't feel very sure. "Yeah."

He was staring at my hand as I moved it around awkwardly, restless and unable to stand still. I knew the sort of door I was opening by asking for a favour. It got messy.

"You know what that means—"

"Yeah," I repeated, shaking my head. "But I have something that could... persuade this lawsuit to go away."

He tilted his head to the side. I'm sure he was thinking about how many times I'd come to them with a problem that I needed to go away. I was also very sure that he was thinking that Calum would not have hesitated. He never understood why Calum would drop everything for me, but he didn't need to. 

Dom wasn't Calum. Dom was smarter and he was perfectly capable of weighing the pros and cons of doing a favour for a washed-up Connecticut princess like me.

Meanwhile, I was thinking about how I'd swore that after the last time, I would do things simply. I would do things calmly and easily and fairly... and legally.

"I'll pay," I said as if that was the one thing that was stopping him from agreeing to help me.

He snorted. "That makes a change."

"Look— I know you don't particularly like me..." 

I felt pretty shitty, moments away from literally getting down on my knees and begging him quite literally. Dom tilted his head to the side, his face void of any emotion. I honestly didn't even know why I was bothering. 

"At the moment, I don't particularly like myself either," I said, "but this is a stupid situation and if I get taken down then Petunia's probably going to take other people with me. You don't have to help me but if you do, just know I'll be even more grateful than I already am. Hell, you and Calum will be in my fucking will or something I don't know— Do you want a third of a house in the Hamptons or some shit—"

Asking for a favour was the third option. It was the one that was last case scenario and if Dom didn't agree to help, then I might as well have just started backing my office a week ago. I was getting pretty fed up of having to rely on other people to help me out constantly. But in my defence, I hadn't been dragged into this willingly either.

Dom let out a breath. "Fine."

He wasn't often easily convinced but he could hear the dollar signs.

"Do you have proof of whatever it is that you want us to blackmail them with?"

I chewed on my bottom lip. "I can get it."

I was pretty sure I'd be able to find something somewhere. I had boxes of stuff from New York just shoved at the bottom of my closet, hidden behind a handful of shoes that I'd never worn. I was sure that somewhere in there, I'd be able to find evidence of what I'd been confided about over a decade ago. 

I'd emailed about it— I was sure that it was on some email account somewhere.

"What sort of blackmail are you thinking?"

"A scandal," I said, my voice raw and regret already filling my body. "Something Petunia Greenman really doesn't want people to know about."

Mark.

***

NEW YORK

The mass casualty at hand today was a train crash on one of the overground lines in the city.

I recognised the subway route, it was one I'd taken many times. We could hear the ambulances in the distance as they ferried all of the oncoming patients closer and closer towards us. As I hurriedly tied the front of my protective trauma gown, I figured that this might be the perfect situation for me during this shift. 

We'd be so swamped with casualties I won't even have to make eye contact with Doctor Newman. It was working out nicely for me today— I turned around, catching Faith's eye. She was in the middle of knotting her gown, a wide smile plastered across her face. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought Christmas had come early.

"Isn't this exciting? It's our first big trauma."

"Yeah," I drawled. "Exciting until I realise that after this I'm stuck with Newman for the next week."

She very faintly scowled at the thought of him. 

While the female population seemed to love to hate Mark, people truly hated Ethan Newman. He was just dislikable. He was a douchebag and didn't have the sexy attractive thing to make up for it like Mark did. I'd never met someone who had the ability to be hated so quickly. 

"I'm with Cardio." 

Everyone knew that Faith had her heart set on Paediatrics, the look on her face told me that she wasn't as excited about her assigned department either. After a few moments, shrugging on her gloves and gritting her teeth, she shook her head, returning to feeling very sorry for me. 

"Although I'd rather be with the Robot than Newman, that's for sure," Faith sighed, "just think of it this way... you might get lucky and get put with Sloan on a shift. Then you won't have anything to complain about— hell, you might even actually get lucky."

"I don't think so," I scoffed. Faith raised her eyebrows at me, challenging my lack of eagerness to jump in bed with Mark. Oh, if she only knew. She handed me a pair of trauma gloves and her nonchalance left me feeling the need to roll my eyes. "He's really not my type."

"Are you kidding me?" Faith wasn't taking it. "Mark Sloan isn't just a type— he's all of them. Even Ashley's interested."

"What am I interested in?" 

The aforementioned intern appeared beside us, hurriedly grabbing a gown off the rack. I watched her as she stared between us, looking antsy at the thought of being a conversation topic. I hadn't seen her since her little wobble in the locker room.

Faith shot me a hasty glance. "Oh, Beth was saying that she isn't interested in Neuro."

Wow, what a save.

"Really?"

 Ashley, like Faith with Paediatrics, had her heart set on Neurosurgery. She got on swimmingly with all of the staff in the department and seemed to always miraculously be assigned to them— although Ortho had been a very interesting deference from that. She was currently their number one cheerleader. 

"I mean, not like I'm complaining..." Ashley shrugged, "I'm very happy to take all of the Neuro surgeries."

I didn't know what area I wanted to go into but I did know for sure that I wasn't going to be anywhere near a Neurosurgery fellowship. As we hurried into the ER, meeting the oncoming tidal wave of injuries, we each peeled off into our respective departments. 

However, we all paused once we saw what seemed to be the biggest draw of surgeon's attention: two patients seemed to be stuck on a pole that had dislodged from the train wreckage and impaled them both through their midsections. They were in the process of very carefully wheeling them into the ER, a crowd of paramedics fighting to keep them upright.

"Holy shit," Faith breathed. I'd never seen someone's face light up so fast. "I've never been so thankful for a train crash."

"Tran, assist Neuro."

He appeared out of nowhere, thundering into the room while tightening his gown. Liam and Isaac trailed behind him, both of their eyebrows rising as they noticed the room full of chaos. In a blink of an eye, Ashley took off to one of the trauma rooms, following one of the Neurosurgeons as they yelled for an intern to assist. 

They seemed relieved to see Ashley grab the other side of their stretcher.

"Carmichael and Brooks I need you guys to help out with that... situation-" 

He pointed towards the mess of impaled limbs that everyone was swarming around. Admittedly, my heart fell when I realised that I wasn't going to get the opportunity to assist on such a gruelling surgery.

"I need some interns for high-risk incoming burn victims." Newman appeared, waltzing through the crowd with a look of glee on his face.

"Take Cochran and Montgomery."

I deflated. I watched in dismay as Liam and Faith went off to help the big case that seemed to be unfolding, leaving me, Cochran and Newman stood in some sort of standoff. 

Newman glanced between the two of us, his eyebrows wiggling.

"This is going to be cool right?" We had different definitions of cool. This was definitely not one of them. Isaac nodded, looking eager to get started. I just stared over at the impaled case, looking longingly as Faith seemed to take a lead in helping the Head of Trauma get patients into a trauma room. "This is going to be so much fun."

Fun. Well, again, my definition of fun was definitely not working on burn patients. 

It was excruciating for both me and the person whose skin had been seared to a third degree. I really hadn't thought it through when Mark had told me that this was a hospital who specialised in burns specifically.

We were called into a trauma room, flanked by a patient who was identified as the driver of the train. He'd been going full speed around the train track and the engine had blown up right next to him. He'd suffered terrific third-degree burns to the right side of his body. 

The skin was swollen and It was a miracle he was alive. Isaac seemed to know exactly to do and I tried my best to keep up. We cleared a bed and helped the paramedic transfer them over.

"Do we have any ENTs available for a child patient," One of the paediatrics attendings popped their head around the corner of the door, catching Newman off guard as he began prepping the train driver. He shook his head, preoccupied with one of the trauma nurses. "I've got an ear that needs to be reattached."

"We don't have anyone on hand," He said, "We've only got Powell whose in training."

"What about Sloan?"

It was something Mark was very proud of. He'd trained in an ENT specialist program while completing his surgical internship. He was good at it-- or so he said.

"He's not on call." 

Newman rolled his eyes at the thought of Mark. It seemed as though even Newman was tired of him. His tone caused the attending to tilt his head to the side, amused. 

After a few moments, in which I glanced at the Head of Plastics various times, he sighed. "Call him in."

It was a twenty-minute subway ride from his apartment despite the chaos of the crash. 

He walked in so effortlessly and coolly that I was very tempted to watch— his patient was the bed beside ours and he put his trauma gown over the dreaded muscle t-shirt that he liked to talk about all the time. He met my eye briefly as he was given his patients chart. 

Newman shot him a look, it was serrated.

"Okay, what have we got here?"

He checked through the chart as I helped the nurse set up an IV of electrolytes. His patient was a kid who looked absolutely terrified. It probably wasn't helped by the fact that he had a deep-fried human sat right beside him. 

Mark glanced between the two of them, probably thinking the same thing. The kid sniffed loudly, the right side of his head heavily bandaged. He offered the kid a very friendly smile.

"Hi there Bradley, I'm Doctor Sloan, I'm going to patch you up and get you out of here in no time—"

One of the paramedics handed him a cooler which I assumed contained the missing ear from the side of Bradley's head. Mark opened it, checked the ear quickly and handed it over to the trauma nurse.

"I need an OR as soon as possible, I'd like to do this in surgery if possible—" 

The nurse nodded, taking off to book an OR room. I kept my attention down on the burn victim in front of me, holding the IV steady as Newman prepared to clean down the swollen, blistered skin. Isaac ripped back his uniform and the guy let out a whimper. I cringed as Bradley started crying, terrified by the sight of the man writhing on the hospital bed beside him. 

"Doctor Newman... I'm going to need an intern..."

"These two are mine," Newman sounded very reluctant to let either of us go but he'd literally just assigned me to keep the IV steady and hold the gauze as he began to debride the patient, breaking the scalded skin. 

I bit down on my lip as the train driver let out a very choked cry of pain. I really, really didn't like working with burn patients. Watching Newman peel back the skin, obliviously in front of a terrified child, really wasn't my idea of a good time.

"I need help getting this kid up into the OR," We all knew that all of the interns were taken. I avoided meeting Mark's eyes as he stared at Isaac and I intently. Eventually, he laughed. "Don't make me steal an intern from you, Ethan—" His joke didn't impress anyone. Newman just grumbled. "Fine— Montgomery, you're with me."

Immediately, I handed the gauze and IV to Isaac, who gave me a very amused look as if to say 'Of course you'll drop everything for Sloan'. I ignored him, taking off my gloves and stuffing them in the surgical waste, making sure to revel in the perturbed look on Newman's face. 

When I was content, I was fighting the urge to smile and followed Mark out of the trauma room.

"Doctor Sloan..." I said quietly in greeting.

"Doctor Montgomery." There was a brief flicker of a smirk on his mouth.

"Oh, you remember my name now?" I quirked an eyebrow as he ordered a nurse to get his patient out of that room. He was grumbling about Newman under his breath, but he paused to roll his eyes at me.

There was no one in our immediate area. He replied in an undertone: "You're pretty hard to forget."

It was my turn to roll my eyes.

***

SEATTLE

It took me barely anytime to get Dom the evidence he needed. I met him just before I finished for the night. I dug his cell phone number out of the bottom of my text messages and asked him to meet me outside the front of the hospital, over the road from my apartment building.

"This everything?"

I nodded. I'd photocopied everything at an Internet Cafe during my break. 

I'd ran home, checked the boxes in my closet and found the old folder of photocopies that I still had from New York. It was a folder full of documents that I'd completely forgot that I had until I'd moved to Seattle. All of these papers had sat in a storage locker outside of Manhattan for the last six years; I stared at all of them as I laid them out on my floor. 

I'd picked up Mark's Lincoln contract and it's ending document (reminiscent of a time where I'd made him back up all of his legal documents), a few emails that I'd printed out about Mark bitching about Petunia back when we'd worked at separate hospitals.

I felt bad doing this behind Mark's back. Handing over his Lincoln documents was probably extremely illegal but Petunia had made it very clear that this wasn't going to be a kind exchange. I wondered what he'd make of it. 

He'd be furious, I knew that for sure. I was exchanging his past for my career and I knew that I was going to try my best to make sure that Mark would never find out. It was just another thing to add to my pile of secrets and half-truths.

"I'll see what I can do..."

It was all in a binder and I watched as Dom put into his satchel, making everything feel very official. I stood there awkwardly, not exactly knowing what to say. Despite what I'd said earlier, with this now out of the way, all I could think about was Dublin. 

He cleared his throat. "I'll be here until Sunday... I'll try my best to get this all sorted out—"

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess." I felt very small. I felt like a kid apologising to their parent. Dom sighed out of his nose. "I know I'm probably the shittiest client you've ever had—"

"We've had worse," He shook his head, "It's just usually a big payday—" Dom seemed to pause as if he was hearing what he was saying. "Sorry, I sound like an asshole."

"You do," I agreed. "But I deserve it."

I did deserve it. Standing here in front of the hospital with Dom and the weight of selling Mark's most shameful escapade for my freedom, I had a lot of perspective about how shitty of a person I was. It wasn't even like I could use anything as a scapegoat— this was shitty, I was shitty. 

The look on Dom's face as he laughed openly, shaking his head again and playing with the buckle on his bag... I felt shitty.

I'd been a pretty horrible person when I'd come straight from New York into Canada. There had been a lot of factors in my life that had resulted in very manipulative, borderline psychotic behaviour. 

All that time, I'd taken all of Calum and Dom's help and never repaid it with any help of my own. They'd literally picked me up out of the dirt, wound up my key and sent me soldiering along into the nether, to only never return.

"Y'know... Rose was really worried about you." Rose, Calum's wife. The two of them had been my only lifeline during my post-New York recovery. "When you went off to Boston with Charlie... you never even sent her a text."

It wasn't my favourite habit, that was for sure.

"Calum was too... although he'd never admit it."

"You're acting as if I need a babysitter," I frowned, not liking the way his words were making me feel.

"Sometimes you do," He tilted his head to the side and sent me a look that made me want to claw out my eyes. "Sometimes that's what I feel like in this job... some sort of glorified babysitter— no, a maid that just gets sent to clean up the messes left by our clients." He heaved a breath as my face twisted. "There's no shame in needing a babysitter... or being one for that matter. I'm grateful for my job... I drive fancy cars and wear nice suits and... have drunk one night stands with pretty girls..."

I felt my skin crawl.

Dom had the sort of reputation that would make angels cry and Mark Sloan weep. I'd heard enough stories to know that a night with Dom had not been anything other than a single night. He was the sort of guy who was so magnetic that everything seemed to gravitate around him, just like Mark. 

He reminded me of him in that way. I blinked and looked away. It was no wonder why drunk me had thought it was such a good idea for a last hurrah. It was ironic really, a deadweight irony that didn't settle right with me. I'd done the exact same thing to Charlie that Mark had once done to me.

"Charlie doesn't know."

I'd never really found the time to break the news that I'd slept with his best friend. It didn't feel like the sort of thing I could just casually bring up over dinner. It made me wonder whether this was how Mark had felt. 

Had he ever considered telling me about Addison, about the other girls? Would he have sat me down over dinner in my apartment and told me? Would he have even cared if I got upset— the thought of Charlie finding out made my heartthrob.

"I figured," Dom shrugged, burying his hands in his pockets. "You're very good at acting sober, you know that?"

I chuckled but it was an empty sound. "I haven't heard that in many years thankfully— but yes." I paused. I'd used that way too many times to my advantage in the past. "Drunk Beth is a vindictive bitch. I'm sorry that I brought you down with me."

"It takes two to tango," He sounded dismissive, "It was a dick move for me to sleep with the one girl Charlie was really, really into." Dom rolled his eyes at himself. "You also didn't stop talking about Charlie the whole time so I guess you were really into him too. It should have been a red flag—"

"Maybe," I had been really into Charlie. 

I still couldn't remember the grey space between having my first drink in the airport in France and waking up in Dom's hotel room. The thought of what happened in those hours was enough to make me want to stay sober. 

I'd woken up with an awful headache and an equally awful impulse to run and never look back. I'd gotten good at it by then, running without facing consequences or feelings.

"You're a dangerous little thing, Beth." He sounded like Calum for a moment and I could've sworn that he recognised that too. A small chuckle fell through my lips but it faded when I saw the intense look in his eye. "You damn near broke Charlie's heart when you left him out in Indonesia with not even a text back."

I dropped my eyes to the floor. I didn't know why but I was surprised that Charlie had told people about that— and I had no right to be surprised either. I was reminded of the feeling that I'd had when holding my cell phone in my hand, Charlie's text messages on the device in front of me. 

It'd been another flight, another move forwards and don't look back— but Charlie was different. Where other people in my life had given off or been cut off completely, Charlie persisted. He'd turned up in Seattle and he'd quite literally refused to leave.

"Don't beat yourself up about Dublin," He continued, "You didn't cheat. You two weren't together. He was half-convinced that you'd pinned everything as a summer fling. I remembered Andrew telling me things—" He shook those thoughts out of his head. "I don't blame you if you won't tell him. I won't tell him either... Just don't take the poor guy for granted, okay?"

He was putting things into perspective. This was way before Charlie had meant to me what he did now. This wasn't anything like Mark. 

It was a bottle of vodka that had done me very dirty. I didn't feel as hypocritical as I had before. I let out an even breath— the mystical powers of Dom's babysitting was unlike anything I'd ever come across.

"You're a good friend," He laughed openly at that as if it was a joke, but I was very much serious. I could hear his comeback in that single sound: 'I'm a great friend for sleeping with his girlfriend?'. 

Dom didn't laugh often. He was the sort of strait-laced guy who would only laugh if he was paid for it. 

"No— I mean it." I said quietly, "I know you hate me-"

"I don't hate you, I dislike you." I snorted, my eyebrows raising. "You're a lot of trouble and a lot of work and you haven't exactly been paying my bills..." He had a fair point. But he was far from finished. "Oh, and I was very peed off by the thought that I might have been the last person to see you alive if you'd gotten yourself murdered in between Ireland and the States."

"You have good reason to dislike me," I agreed. "As I said earlier, I don't like myself much either."

"I'm thinking that not a lot of people like you..." Dom rolled his eyes. "That's why Calum doesn't have the heart to leave you be. I feel like he's guilty about breaking off your engagement--"

"Fantastic, let's just all bond over that—"

I was interrupted by a very familiar voice.

"Bond over what?"

I looked over to see a very exhausted looking Charlie crossing the road towards us, a very unsure smile on his face as he hid beneath his Patriots cap. In the light of the lamp post, he looked as though he'd been in the wilderness for a few weeks rather than corporate Boston. 

I grinned, pulling him into a tight hug and pressing a kiss on his cheek. 

He turned to Dom, holding out a hand.

"Man, I'm surprised to see you on the West Coast..."

"Yeah," The friendly smile on Dom's face was almost foreign to me. His eyes flickered between the two of us and I noticed that the smile didn't reach his eyes. Charlie clapped a hand on his old friend's shoulder, his free hand falling around my shoulder. I smiled very hesitantly. "I hate to say it... but I'm here for the old guy, he's got some medical problems going on and this hospital happened to be the nearest."

"Oh, I'm bummed to hear that."

The first thing I noticed about Charlie is that he was unusually tense as if he was on the edge about something. His voice was calm but there was a discomfort in the way that he tilted his head from side to side. I could feel his body around me flexing as if he was waiting for something to happen. 

A very curt silence played out and my mouth worked itself into a very thin line. The atmosphere was changing right in front of me; if I thought it had been awkward before, it was hell now.

"Well, I, uh, better get back to my family..." Dom trailed off, clutching the strap of his bag tightly. My eyes fell to it and I could almost see through the fabric, at the signature of Petunia Vanderbilt on the Lincoln contract. "Nice to see you both.. it was good to catch up Beth."

"Yeah," I said, mustering up a polite smile and lacing my fingers with Charlie's. My voice caught at the back of my throat and was much deeper than I'd anticipated. "I hope everything is okay with Harper."

He gave us each a parting wave and disappeared back into the hospital. I watched him leave, watching until the satchel bag was out of view. 

Then, almost immediately, I turned into Charlie, flattening out the fabric of his shirt against his chest.

"Hi."

"Hi."

It was as if Charlie had snapped out of something as soon as Dom had left. 

For a split second, my brain was asking whether Charlie had overheard the conversation. But no, the look in his eyes told me that the sudden change in ambience had had nothing to do with me.

"Just the person I was looking for..." 

His voice was softer now. He wasn't tense. I smiled at him, although my brain was preoccupied with trying to digest what the weird atmosphere had been between him and Dom. For two friends that had stood by each other for so long, they'd been awfully stand-offish to one another. Now he was gentle, placing his arms around my waist and hugging me to him. 

I chuckled, playing with the front of his jacket.

"How was your flight?"

"Good." He grinned. 

He was better at flying than I was, all of his flights were good. Peacefully, I looked at him, admiring the way this rugged look suited him. He hadn't shaved in a while and I swore that his hair was a little bit longer than it had been before he'd left. My arms found their way around his neck and I gently pushed back some of the stray hairs that lingered on his forehead. 

"Although... I have to say... objectively, this is a hell of a lot better—"

Charlie kissed me very sweetly. Again, my brain was running a marathon behind closed doors. I was thinking about what Dom had said to me, how Charlie had been so crushed when I'd flown to Seattle and left him alone with very minimal conversation. 

He'd never voiced these feelings to me, never yelled at me for abandoning him. Instead, he'd shown me through his actions, renting the hotel for me downtown and telling me that he'd be there on my terms if I ever needed to talk. He hadn't come to Seattle until I'd given him permission. 

When the kiss finished, I just stared at him, smoothing back his hair and thinking that I definitely didn't deserve a man this kind and compassionate.

Dom had been right. I was taking this man for granted.

"What?" He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"I..." I sounded very breathless and very overwhelmed. "I'm just glad you're back."

***

NEW YORK

The surgery went well. Really well actually.

Mark was an excellent surgeon. I felt very proud watching him reattach a severed ear and make sure that this little kid would be able to hear again. He was very meticulous and careful, his expert hands taking their time. By the end of the three hours, Mark had taken to secure this kids future, I was completely convinced that I'd fallen head over heels for the bastard.

"Are you okay to close up?" 

Mark caught my eye as he stepped backwards, hands raised in front of him and mask covering half of his face. Beside him, the scrub nurse looked baffled by his request. An intern? Close up a facial laceration? She looked between the two of us and I could almost hear the alarm bells ringing. He must have been able to tell that I was caught off-guard as he turned rolled his eyes.

 "I've seen your suture work— it's not too shabby."

"Thank you," I replied stiffly. I was glad I was wearing a face mask so he couldn't see the smirk on my face. "I'm self-taught."

He held my gaze for a bit. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement and a hint of challenge.

"I need to take off..." 

He turned to the scrub nurse— scratch that, he seemed to proclaim it to all of the staff in the OR. To the left of us, the anaesthesiologist scoffed, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe the gall of the guy. 

Mark snickered. "I'm not even supposed to be here... I had plans— I've got a date to get to."

"A date?" I repeated. 

Mark nodded, looking very proud of himself. It took everything within myself to not shake my head at him. Oh, Sloan, you are really playing with fire. He turned to let one of the scrub nurses take off his scrubs. 

Under my breath, I muttered: "I pity the poor woman..." 

The scrub nurse beside heard and she giggled, clearly agreeing with me.

Admittedly, closing up was easier than it would have been without Mark's evening tutorials. He'd also been very right about the scrub nurse, Ava. She had eyes like a hawk and was very attentive to my every movement as I sutured a facial laceration on the side of Bradley's face. It spanned from just below his ear to the bottom of his jawline, so I had to manoeuvre around Mark's strategic stitching that held the ear back onto the patients head. 

Just like he did, I took my time— by the end, Ava looked impressed.

"Congratulations, Doctor Montgomery." She patted me on the arm as the OR techs took the patient away to recovery and cleared the floor. "You've saved that kid from a hefty scar."

The water in the basin was colder than I'd anticipated, soliciting a shocked gasp from me as I doused my tired hands. Suture work like that was enough to make my fingers almost cramp. I could only imagine how Faith and Liam were feeling, they were probably in a very gruelling surgery fighting for someone's life— I turned off the faucet and stared through the window into the now very empty OR. 

Ava was the last one to leave, she offered me a kind smile and just walked straight out into the corridor. I listened to the door swing closed behind her.

The OR was the only place in the whole hospital where time seemed to stop, despite the clock in the corner. I eyed it through the glass pane, wondering how many times that clock had been used to announce time of death. 

A long breath came out of my mouth and I leant against the side of the scrub sinks, my strained fingers clutching onto the frosty metal. I bowed my head and tried to readjust myself to the silence. It was quiet in here, peaceful. I was almost able to hear my own thoughts-

The door opened behind me and I immediately straightened.

"Impeccable work today, Montgomery."

In such a small, quiet space, Mark was so loud. It was almost a shock to the system. I sniffed, adjusting my scrub cap. He bustled past me, picking up something he must've accidentally dropped on the floor on his way out of the OR. 

I turned to look at him, watching as he held his scrub cap tightly in his hand. He had his little smirk on his lips and cocked his head to the side like a bemused dog. I rolled my eyes.

"Ah yes, I've always been destined to hold a cooler with an amputated ear in it." 

That had been what I'd done for the majority of the surgery, kept an eye on the kid's ear while Mark made sure that his hearing was still intact. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to keep me from feeling grateful that I wasn't still stuck debriding the train driver with Newman and Isaac.

"Well," Mark said, a bright look in his eye. "If it's any consolidation, you looked very hot while you did it."

"Looked?"

He shrugged but smiled through it.

Softly, I shook my head, trying to avoid laughing. He was lucky that we were in an empty OR or I would have had something choice to say. He joined me, stood at the window looking into the OR with me. 

We stood side by side very comfortably, Mark not too close in case someone came across us. I smiled to myself, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

"I thought I'd be pissed if you gave me a surgery." Admitting it sounded dumb and I could tell from the look on Mark's face that it was extremely dumb. "But I'm actually quite glad..."

"You're welcome." He said, without a moment of hesitation.

I cut him a look. "I didn't thank—"

"You didn't have to," Mark was very electric with his comebacks today. We looked at each other and I was too miffed to be mad. I laughed, wondering how the hell I'd ended up here, with Mark beside me.

"I was going to say... I'm glad that I'm not stuck with Doctor Newman..."

 I really couldn't imagine anything worse. Actually— no I could, Sunday brunches with all of Addison's friend except they were every day for the rest of eternity. I almost shivered at the thought. 

"Well, I'm still assigned to Plastics for the week— but it was nice to play make-believe for a bit." I watched the profile of his face, watched as he gazed into his OR. "I guess... in that case... thank you."

"Newman's a dick." 

Mark didn't revel in his victory like I'd expected him to. Instead, he sounded exasperated.

"He is," I agreed, nodding. "You've got yourself a little reputation too, though..." He let out a very innocent 'hmm?' as if he didn't know what I was talking about. My lips pinched together. "You're going to break hearts, you know that? They're all crazy for you or crazy about you."

I knew that he was aware of the attention he was getting. Of course, he was. He loved it. I could see it in his eyes as he glanced at me. It swirled beneath the colour of his irises, like a water pool that was building up into a tidal wave. 

The corner of his mouth twitched and I felt his hand twitch at mine. Idly, I wondered whether he was going to say something cliche, something that was dumb romantic and would have me even more worried that I was into this jerk.

"You'll have a reputation one day..." I squinted at him, not exactly sure whether this was romantic or cliche or even nice, to begin with. "You'll the hot, sexy surgeon that all of the interns are fawning over."

"Really?" I challenged as if to say 'that's the best you can do'. "I'm actually offended, at least tell me I'll be a great surgeon—"

"I don't need to tell you what you already know." He had the audacity to roll his eyes at me. Mark turned towards me, turning his back to the OR and folding his arms over his chest. "You talk about me having an ego and yet we both know that you're as bad as I am. I don't need to tell you that you're a brilliant surgeon. It'd be a waste of air— You're the last person on this planet who needs a confidence boost."

I felt very warm inside.

The thing I'd learnt with Mark during our few months of dating was that he wasn't a very heart-to-heart guy. Sure, he was flirtatious and outrageous at times, but the vulnerability was not his sort of thing. 

This was the closest thing I was ever going to get to an 'I'm proud of you' and I would be damned if I didn't treasure it. I mouthed a small, 'thank you' and Mark just appeared mildly exasperated.

I briefly reached out and squeezed his hand. 

It was quick but it was enough to make him smile.

"So.. what happened to your hot date?"

He chuckled. "Who said anything about being hot?"

The look I shot him made him chuckle even more.

"Turned out she was busy with work... had to rain check..." I 'awed' for him empathetically, watching as he pouted jokingly. "Yeah, turns out she was in the middle of assisting this really good looking surgeon in this amazing surgery—" He was interrupted by an amused snort as I did a final cleanse of my hands. "We rescheduled it for tonight."

"Have you now?" I questioned, studying the look on his face. He nodded very confidently. "Huh, well— I heard a rumour that she's going to be cooking dinner for this poor overworked surgeon guy. She might have other plans. Sorry."

"Cooking dinner?" Mark appeared caught off-guard. I couldn't hold back my grin.

"Mhmm..." I'd never cooked for Mark and I had ample good reason to. I was awful in the kitchen and I could see that knowledge reflected in his eyes. "Family recipe chicken, actually... but of course," I held up my hand as if in an act of surrender and to keep the peace. I didn't have faith in myself so I didn't expect Mark to either "...takeout if all goes to hell."

"I'll have to give her a call then..." I couldn't read the expression on his face. There was a look in his eye that made my heart want to burst. "He's not going to want to pass up on a homemade meal."

I left the OR grinning widely.

***

SEATTLE

"Don't laugh," I said quietly, feeling bashful as Charlie opened the fridge.

We were in the apartment, his suitcases were by the bedroom door and Charlie was looking for things to cook. I watched the back of his head bob around as he examined what was in there. I stood on the other side of the table, nervously watching as he perused my cupboards. 

When he resurfaced, he looked shocked, like a kid who had just woken up to find presents from Santa at the foot of his bed.

"Yeah... I bought groceries... like a functional adult..." I paused, feeling extremely bashful. "I thought that maybe... I could cook for you."

"Really?" He looked delighted. His eyes were bright and round

"Yeah... I mean— I'm not your Mom by any means or you or Gordon Ramsey or whatever— but I have a family recipe that you might like—" I'd managed to dig up something other than legal documents in those boxes. I'd come across my Mom's old chicken dish recipe, something that was the only indicator that I'd actually had a somewhat functional childhood. "It's nothing fancy and you can help if you want I just thought you'd like to—"

I was rambling.

"I'd love that." Charlie beamed at me from across the kitchen.

"You would?"

"Of course."

He sounded genuine, enough to make me feel stupid happy. So it began: the tedious juggling of me trying to read my mother's handwriting and Charlie carrying me through a very simple recipe. What began as me being the Head Chef and Charlie as my right-hand man derailed deeper and deeper into the meal prep. 

Although there was one silver lining: I discovered that I was a very, very good sous chef. We sat down to eat on the dining room table and I'd actually managed to light the candles I'd bought ages ago for his first arrival in Seattle. I also pulled out a bottle of alcohol-free champagne that I'd been hoarding since New Year's Eve.

"It didn't feel right to open it..." I said softly, pouring us each a glass. Once everything was set, I caught sight of the expression on Charlie's face. He was staring down at the plate in front of him, a very tender look in his eye. "I hope you like this... I can't even remember the last time I even looked at the recipe—"

'It looks amazing," Again, he sounded genuine. A stupefied laugh fell out of my lips, I mean, he wasn't wrong. His plating was amazing and the food smelled amazing. We weren't too bad of a pair. "You know, I've never had a girlfriend cook for me before."

"Really?" I wasn't exactly surprised, Charlie was the best cook I'd ever met. "Well, you might find out why if you eat my cooking— I'm not really housewife material."

He laughed.

The meal was nice. It was nice to just sit and make light conversation, slowing the world down for a few moments to just ask each other about our week. I told Charlie about Derek's promotion, dinner and some of the cases I'd been working on— omitting the more dramatic bits like Lexie, my impromptu therapy session with Mark and Petunia's lawsuit. 

In return, he spoke about Boston, about working with his brother in their office. It sounded pretty boring so I didn't blame him for the little dismissive shake of his head he seemed to punctuate the end of each sentence as if it didn't matter. The conversation eventually moved onto Andrew and the current traumas he was working with.

At a certain point in the topic, Charlie put down his knife and fork.

"I have some news," I looked up from my plate, hesitantly watching the way he leant forwards in his chair. I'd had a lot of news over the last few days, all from Derek mostly and not all of it good. I was very apprehensive. "I was talking to Andrew the other day... y'know uh, when I was supposed to come back.. and uh, I decided that I want to move here." He kept glancing down at my plate as if he was very, very nervous. "And I— I quit my job at the firm."

Wow.

"You quit?"

"Mhmm..." Charlie cleared his throat. "I was hoping that you'd let me stay here... well... move in permanently..." He paused again, shifting in his chair. "That's if you'll have me—"

"Of course." I smiled at him. 

I couldn't quite believe that he'd quit his job— he loved it there. My brow creased very slightly and I dropped my gaze back to my food, pushing my hair behind my ear. On second thought, I reached out for my glass and took a long sip, leaving behind a red lipstick stain. 

"What made you quit?"

"I realised that I needed to choose..." The word 'choose' made me feel very slimy as if I'd torn him away from his passion. But his tone was very light and airy. Charlie picked up his champagne glass and shrugged as if it was all menial to him now. "I couldn't be in Boston and Seattle— so I chose Seattle..." He met my eye. "I chose you."

He chose me. It probably wasn't an easy decision. He'd grown up in that city, he loved that city, he still had an apartment in that city, his family was in that city, his dream job was in that city— and he'd chosen me over all of it. It was both touching and mortifying. 

I'd never had anyone do that for me before, not even Calum when we'd been engaged and I'd been unable to follow him to Canada. I'd understood Calum's decision but struggled to understand Charlie's now— he was choosing me over everything else.

"Do you happen to know any places that are hiring?" Charlie joked, making me laugh.

"I'm sure we can figure something out."

I was sure that Charlie missed the tension that was in my body, the thoughts that were flooding my brain. Charlie wanted to be here permanently. He was very serious and he wanted to push his life aside so he could be with me— Dom's words floated across my brain again. 

My good mood dampened slightly and I found myself thinking about the future in a way that I didn't like to do often. It was the sort of way that had me envisioning a handful of different lives for myself— I hadn't done that for myself since I'd fallen in love with Mark.

"I was thinking that I could maybe find some academic work for the next few months...' 

He trailed off into his own little assessment of the future as I began to get very uncomfortable. He didn't notice the way that I moved in my chair, my foot sliding across the floorboards and my fingers clenching very tightly on my cutlery. 

"I'll gather some funds for France... If you still want to go— We can book a trip and plan around it?" Charlie chuckled at himself. "I think that's what functioning adults do right? I'll find some temporary work or maybe like a clinic thing and I'll make sure that Andrew is sorted and—"

"I want more than France."

Those words felt right.

Those words slipped out of my lips without me even realising. I said it suddenly and Charlie looked me dead in the eye, startled by the softness and vulnerability of my tone. He seemed to search my soul. 

There was an alertness in him, as if he wanted to make sure he heard my every word. My heartbeat picked up in my chest.

"Talking to... to Dom earlier... I-I realised how unfair I've been to everyone..."

I paused, my chest feeling very tight and uncomfortable. It was the same feeling that I had all those years ago when I'd prepared for big surgeries. A pressure that I couldn't contain. It was the same sort of pressure that built up behind a crack in a water breaker, when all of the liquid was just waiting to burst through. 

I dropped my cutlery onto the table and pressed my lips together, bowing my head for a moment as I fought to gather my thoughts.

"To Calum.. to Rose.. to you— I want you to know that I appreciate everything you have done for me. I've been selfish and... unfortunately, I'm not going to stop that anytime soon."

I laughed sloppily. I wasn't good at this sort of shit anymore.

Charlie didn't interrupt me. He had this light, heartfelt smile on his face that meant the world to me. I dragged my eyes across the dinner table, the closest thing to romance that I'd had in nearly a decade. He was letting me speak, let me very chaotically voice the clutter that was beginning to clog up the inside of my brain.

"I'm selfish, okay?" His eyes were round as I smiled sadly. "I'm sorry for taking you for granted. I love France— but I want more than France. And I'm really fucking selfish— I've learnt recently, that I don't know how to stop taking and receiving and start giving— but I'm willing to try..." 

My eyes burned with the threat of tears so I just sighed at myself, wondering when I'd become such a soppy mess. 

"But it's unfair for me to not offer you and out," I said quietly, "I've learnt that trails and first-gos in relationships can crash and burn instead of achieving things. But I'm willing to try-- If you want and out, you can take one—"

"Did you not hear me?" Charlie said quietly, looking at me as if I was a piece of artwork in a museum. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good— because I don't want you to go anywhere—"

I halted completely. A thought popped into my head. 

A very spontaneous, dangerous thought that was seeming like a very good spontaneous, dangerous idea. I didn't have good ones often and usually, it was only when I was completely out of it.

Now, I was thinking really dangerously— out of character dangerously and Charlie had absolutely no clue what I was about to do.

"But I warn you— you're going to be ruing the day you decided turned that offer down—"

"Okay," He chuckled, "I can live with that."

"Good." I repeated, "I'm not good with feelings— we both know that-" (Another chuckle on his part). "I'm trying my best here. I just want to say... that you mean so much to me, Charles Perkins. You've— You've been incredible and honestly... honestly I don't know what I'd do without you. I would be lost. I'd probably be living off of... takeout and..." His face exploded into a grin and I could see that he was hanging onto my every word. "I don't know... probably... dead in a ditch somewhere—"

"Be kind to yourself," Charlie encouraged. "It'd at least be a respectable pond or something—"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't spoil the moment."

He mimed zipping his lips closed, sitting back in his chair and momentarily looking very serious. I laughed at him once more, tossing my head from side to side and feeling the warmth fill my chest that I'd only ever felt with three people in my whole life. 

I was still nervous, still sore from the vulnerable wound of my heart slowly getting ripped out of my chest and placed on the table between us. Our conversation was the equivalent of one of Doctor Lecter's meals; I was willing to show him my emotions and trust them to him.

There was an amicable pause.

I raised my glass in a toast.

"I want more than France," I repeated my words from earlier, this time, feeling my heartbeat pick up. Charlie followed suit, beaming over at me as my foot continued to tap anxiously against the floor. "And I'm not shitting on France— I love France— but I love you more." I smiled at him delicately. "I love you, Charlie— I want something a little bit more than a... summer fling."

Charlie hadn't expected me to get to my feet. Fucking hell, I hadn't expected me to get up. The look on his face was almost picture-perfect; his eyes widened even further when I very shakily got to my knees.

"Fuck, I should have really asked you for some pointers—" He just stared at me, lost for words. I laughed at myself as I struggled to get onto one knee. "This is right? Right? I'm really, really trying here. All I have to go off is Calum..."

Calum had proposed to me in a restaurant with a ring and a fancy dinner and an orchestra. Charlie had proposed the first time in the middle of a trauma centre in Sumatra with just a bunch of morbid looking PTSD patients surrounding us and the second, on the way to the airport while I was completely consumed by the thought of my brother dying. Mark had never bothered proposing. 

To be honest, I didn't think that it it mattered that I didn't have a ring or a fancy dinner or some crazy big orchestra. It wasn't as if I had anything to outdo. It was a good, spontaneous and dangerous proposal.

Charlie looked as though he was going to cry, which... of course... made me tear up.

"Marry me, maybe?"

It was such a dumb question but I couldn't bring myself to say the whole thing. It was what Charlie had said to me the first time, when I'd been so caught off-guard with it and so panicked that I'd pretended he hadn't said a thing. 

Marry me, maybe? 

He'd said it without even looking at me— this time, I was making sure he listened to me. It was my turn to catch him off-guard.

However, that didn't stop him from pulling his chair away from me. He got to his feet, turning away without saying a single word, and went into the bedroom.

Well crap. I stared after him, slightly shellshocked. That didn't go how I'd expected.

The rejection didn't hit me immediately so I just stayed there, locked in my awkward half-kneel that was making me realise I really, really needed to do more workouts. My muscles were burning and I was wobbling a lot. I ended up holding onto the chair for dear life, unable to bring myself to get to my feet— just waiting for the full force of this rejection to hit me. 

I stared over at the bedroom door, wondering what the hell had gone wrong.

But then, the door opened.

Charlie walked towards me and smiled a very watery smile. I frowned at him, beginning to get a little bit agitated. There I'd gone and laid my heart on the dinner table and Charlie had proceeded to stab it with a steak knife. 

I hadn't meant the Hannibal metaphor literally. He held out an arm towards me and I begrudgingly took it, allowing him to help me to my feet. My muscles screamed at me— as did my heart as I began to feel the effects of rejection kick in.

"I'm sorry if I—"

He shushed me.

My eyes widened. Did he just shush me? Where are we? Kindergarten? I honestly felt like yelling.

What the fuck—Not to be dramatic, I felt like saying to him, but you've just broken my heart.

There was an object in his hand and I had to blink away my sad rejection tears to see it. A small, black velvet box that I hadn't even realised he'd gotten. My brain struggled for a few moments (as it was in mid panic/shutdown mode) it took me a while to realise what it was. 

When I did realise, however, I felt the tears come back full force.

"Charlie—"

"I'm not going to do the whole knee thing..." He shrugged almost bashfully, looking down at the box in his hand. "I thought you pulled that off really, really well actually— It was a better proposal than my ones."

I let out a watery chuckle. "I had a lot of time to practice."

"That you did..."

Charlie smiled at me. I smiled back.

"Do you want to open it?" He passed me the box and I chewed the inside of my cheek. I held it in my hand, marvelling over the exterior as if I'd never seen one before in my life— well, of course, I had, not to toot my horn or anything but this was my second proposal. I was becoming a bit of a proposal-reciever expert.

"I need an answer first," I pointed out with a slightly disorientated laugh.

"No you don't," Charlie smiled, reaching out and squeezing my free hand. "You don't need me to tell you something you already know."