You Promised | Mark Sloan ✓

69┃i'm going to kill him

"Mark."

The concern at the front of his eyes was similar to when the one he had the night when things between them went south. The strain and worry were eating up inside him. She reached for his hand, squeezing his shaking fist tightly as he shook his head helplessly.

"Look, maybe I don't understand what you two have, how you have it, but I understand this-she is like your family," Webber stated, his voice firm and sincere, "Callie Torres and that baby are like family to you, and the best way that you can help your family is to step back and let the rest of us do what you can't rationally do: save their lives."

Mark turned his head to her wordlessly, in need of reassurance. "Everything will be okay," she spoke softly, "Today will be okay."

She believed her own words because she had not felt any prick of chills to her back, which meant everything will be okay. At least, that was what she was convincing herself.

She felt the tenseness in his hand loosening, and she pried the gown and gloves off his hand before hurriedly putting it on herself.

"I'm in the room, you hear me? I'm in the room!" Mark scoffed at the chief before storming over to Timothy, who remained frozen by the wall.

"Okay," Webber agreed his demand before turning to the resident, "Lawrence, you should sit this one out, too. That's your niece or nephew in there and-"

Norah snapped her head to the chief with her eyebrows knitted in disbelief. "Sir, I'm related to the baby, but I'm not biologically related to Callie, who had a traumatic head injury. And all due respect, you need all your best residents on this case-"

Her words got cut off by the blaring of the ambulance's siren. Webber, too, had dismissed her hastily and turned to the group of surgeons. "Hunt, you're in charge," he instructed.

Owen took the lead, rushing up to the vehicle that had just pulled up. "Alright, everyone. Multiple blunt trauma protocol. Let's go."

The door opened, and Arizona stepped down of it with a shock blanket covering her. "T-Tachycardic and hypotensive en route. Obvious h-head and chest injuries."

When Callie got lowered from the ambulance on a gurney, Mark stared in horror as he held Timothy up with one hand.

The woman was covered in her own blood, with multiple open wounds from the cuts of glass shards. Her eyes were opened wide, in shock, staring at the surgeons surrounding her.

"Callie? Callie, we've got you, you hear me?"

Her eyes found the brunette resident's, a pleading look in her eyes despite her mangled state. Norah leaned closer, swallowing back the tightness in her throat, as well as the sickness down her stomach.

"Everything is gonna be okay," she spoke, though she was not quite sure whether her words were towards Callie or herself.

Norah lifted her eyes briefly to Timothy, who looked pale, then to Mark, who ran a hand through his face stressfully. A look of horror spread across both their faces when the surgeons started wheeling Callie into the ER.

Timothy walked up to Arizona, the blonde still wrapped under the shock blanket. "What the hell happened?" he questioned, his voice hard.

"It came out of nowhere," she gulped, her voice trembling, "I... I asked her to marry me, and a truck came out of nowhere."

"What... What the fucking hell?" he let out a dry laugh before running into the ER, catching up to the gurney.

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