The Shepherd Legacy

Mark and Stitches

Mark Sloan, the charismatic plastic surgeon known for his easygoing demeanor, burst into an unexpectedly quiet room in the surgical wing. The air was thick with antiseptic, and the scene before him was beyond belief – a group of interns practicing stitches on themselves. His annoyance surged, a mix of disbelief and frustration painted across his features.

"What in the hell is happening here?" Mark's voice cut through the room like a surgeon's scalpel. The interns, mid-stitch on various body parts, stared at him with wide-eyed panic. Among them was Mary, who attempted to blend into the background, avoiding Mark's gaze.

Lexie emerged from the midst of the guilty group, looking apologetic. "Mark, let me explain."

"You've got about ten seconds," Mark grumbled, crossing his arms impatiently.

Lexie divulged the misguided reasoning behind the stitching experiment, explaining the interns' complains that the residents were not letting them practice, so they decided to take matters in their own hands. Mark's eyes narrowed with each word, his irritation escalating.

As Lexie finished her explanation, Mark addressed the interns sternly. "You think this is how you become better doctors? By risking infections and complications? This is not how we operate here."

His gaze landed on Mary, who was now discreetly undoing the stitches on her forearm. Lexie nudged him and whispered, "She's terrified of facing you, Mark."

Mark's jaw tightened. "Good, she should be. This is unacceptable." He turned towards the rest of the group. "All of you, go find your resident. You best believe I will be rounding them up to let them know what you lot have been up to."

As the interns scattered to find their residents, Mark turned his attention to Mary, who tried to slip away along with the others. "You. Up to my office. Now."

Mary sighed, setting aside the needle and thread, her wound taken care of. She looked up at Mark with a mixture of defiance and anxiety. "I don't need a lecture, Mark."

"Oh, you're getting one," Mark retorted, his voice low and stern. "You know better than this, Mary. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I needed to be better, faster," Mary replied, her gaze meeting Mark's. "I didn't want to disappoint Derek or you."

Mark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't have to prove anything to us by risking your own health. We didn't become great surgeons by stitching ourselves up in secret rooms."

Mary shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe not, but I felt like I needed to do something more."

"You're already doing enough, Mary," Mark insisted. "And I won't stand by and let you jeopardize your future or your well-being over some misguided idea of proving yourself."

Mary's eyes flashed with frustration. "You can't tell me what to do."

"I am your brother and mentor. And as both of those, I care about your safety and your success," Mark replied, his tone unwavering.

Mary sighed, realizing the truth in Mark's words. "Fine, yell at me, scold me, do whatever you want. But this is my choice, Mark."

Mark ran a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. "No, it's not. Your choice affects all of us – Derek, your colleagues, and me. Meredith will be reprimanded because she is your resident." Mary looked away, shame evident in her eyes. "Now, go up to my office and wait for me. We'll discuss this further."

Mary rolled her eyes but didn't argue further. As she left the room, Mark watched her go, a mixture of frustration and concern etched on his face.

Once Mary was out of earshot, Lexie, having overheard the conversation, approached Mark. "She's stubborn, just like you."