Mark had just finished a successful surgery, a routine reconstructive procedure on a patient who'd suffered burns in a house fire. He stood at the scrub sink, washing his hands, still processing the details of the operation. The patient was stable, the procedure went smoothly, and for the first time today, Mark felt like he could breathe again.
That was until Aria entered the room.
Her face was pale, her usual calm demeanor replaced with urgency. She didn't say anything at first, just approached him slowly. Mark immediately felt the change in the air. Something was wrong.
"Mark," Aria started, her voice softer than usual, "you need to know... it's Callie and Arizona."
Mark froze. His heart skipped a beat. "What happened?" he asked, barely able to speak the words. His hands, still wet from scrubbing, gripped the edge of the sink.
"They've been in a car accident." Aria's words hung in the air, thick with fear.
Mark's eyes widened. "How bad?"
"Callie's in critical condition," she replied, her voice tight. "Arizona's stable. She's got some cuts and bruises, but Callie... she's the one we're worried about."
Mark's world tilted. He barely registered the sound of his own breathing, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Callie... critical... Arizona... stable, but it wasn't enough to calm him.
"Where are they now?" His voice came out hoarse. He was already moving, every part of him screaming to get to them. He couldn't be standing here like this. "Where are they taking them?"
"They're en route. Trauma's already gearing up," Aria responded quickly. "I just wanted you to know. The trauma team's waiting by the ambulance bay."
Without another word, Mark didn't hesitate. He was out of the scrub room and moving down the hallway before Aria could even respond.
Mark made his way swiftly to the ambulance bay, his mind racing with images of Callie and Arizona—both women who meant the world to him. He didn't care if he wasn't scrubbed in or if he wasn't needed at the moment. He had to be there for them, especially for Callie.
When he entered the ambulance bay, the rest of the surgical team was already gathered, standing in quiet anticipation. Miranda Bailey was at the front, her arms crossed, her face stern but showing clear signs of worry. Derek, Meredith, April, Owen, and even Lexie were present. Everyone was silently awaiting the arrival of the ambulances.
The doors to the trauma bay banged open, and Mark stormed out, panic etched into every line of his face. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by raw, unfiltered fear.
"What the hell happened?" His voice was sharp, demanding answers as his eyes locked onto hers.
Aria swallowed, steadying herself. She was his friend. And right now, he needed someone to be strong for him.
"Car versus truck," she said evenly, keeping her voice calm. "That's all we know."
Mark's breath hitched, but he pushed forward, shaking his head as if that wasn't enough. "And her injuries? What? The baby?" His voice cracked on the last word.
Aria's stomach twisted. She wished she had something—anything—better to tell him. But she didn't.
"We don't know yet."
It wasn't enough. It would never be enough for him.
"Why the hell don't you know? Someone get me a trauma gown," Mark snapped, his frustration boiling over.
Aria didn't flinch. She knew this wasn't really him. This was fear. This was him grasping for control in a situation where there was none.
"Mark, you need to sit this one out." Richard Webber's voice cut through the chaos, firm but not unkind.
YOU ARE READING
Shooting Stars
Fanfiction"But he's Evil Spawn." "Don't you think I know that. I didn't wake up one day and suddenly decide I was going to be in love with Alex Karev." Being the daughter of a world renowned surgeon was never destined to be easy. The first born of the Grey tw...
