Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟱𝟵 six doctors in a room bitchin'

𝙇𝙑𝙄𝙑.
SIX DOCTORS IN A ROOM BITCHIN'

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IF YOU WERE to ask Elizabeth Montgomery how the last two months of her life had been, she would've answered with this:

Shit. It had been shit.

Andrew asked her that question two hours before her dinner party. 

She'd finally managed to get into his office (despite the very visible falter at the sight of him at Katherine Wyatt's old desk) and fixed him with her intense, heavy gaze as he asked her how she'd been for the past few months. She'd replied with a wide smile and a slightly manic glimmer in her eye-- and that word: shit. 

He'd chuckled, nodded and said that that was to be expected. 

Apparently, that was the general consensus of being shot and dying from a pericardial effusion: it was shit.

"Yeah," Beth had said, a certain tightness in her voice as she shuffled in her chair. "I'd agree."

What struck Andrew, during the session, was how nonchalant Beth appeared to be with everything. It was their first face-to-face meeting and, not only had Andrew asked if she'd be more comfortable with a different therapist (seeing as she was engaged to his brother, thus, his almost sister-in-law) but she'd just brushed it off. 

He'd raised an eyebrow, watching as she chuckled and shook her head.

"I trust you more than I trust my own family."

She'd brushed her hair behind her ear, crossed her ankles and looked far more interested in one of the support pamphlets at the edge of his desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Andrew scrawl a note, toying with the corner of a pamphlet on PTSD.

"Well," Andrew had said, "We'll be family soon so that won't be the case— Congratulations on that, by the way." Beth had lifted her head and smiled at him. "I don't think I've spoken to you about the engagement yet. You've made my brother a very happy man."

"Thanks," Subconsciously, her hand had fallen to rub at the ring on her finger, "He's made me happy too."

He hadn't spent much time with Beth. They knew very little about each other; what Andrew did know had been communicated through phone calls and text messages. He'd first learnt about her through Calum, who'd randomly sprung up one evening twenty years ago and revealed that he was suddenly engaged to a girl he'd been dating for six months. 

He'd introduced her as Beth: medical student Beth, a girl who was bright-eyed and enthusiastic and approached everything with both her head and heart. She'd been introduced as a very strong-willed woman, and that's exactly what met him. 

Absently, Andrew's eyes dropped to the discharge sheet, catching sight of her signature.

He should've seen it coming, really. Charlie had told him that Beth wasn't going to be an easy patient to handle; not only that, but she knew the process as well as they did. 

She'd worked with so many patients over the last few years that she could anticipate everything he was going to say before he'd even opened his mouth. She was already openly discussing the last two months before Andrew had even uttered a word: for the record, she was sleeping well but was in a lot of pain, she was recovering well, she didn't feel particularly sad or stressed—

"So, what do you feel, if not stressed or sad?"

Andrew had proposed the question, fully expecting Beth to say something along the lines of restless, antsy, ready to get back to work— but her answer caught him off-guard. Beth smiled and he'd been able to see the shadow in her eyes.