Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟰𝟴 hurricane amy

It'd been beyond repair, something, not even my birth could fix.

When Dom phoned me, two days after I'd given him all of the shit I had on Petunia Vanderbilt (now Greenman) to tell me that it was handled (like some male iteration of Olivia Pope) I hadn't been surprised. Of course, it was handled, it was the sort of clean finish that he guaranteed. Calum was a good lawyer and so was Dom. 

They knew the law perfectly and, as a result, knew the loopholes that Shawn March had found and, sometimes, even made.

It wasn't honest but it got the job done.

"She won't be bothering you any time soon."

I was sat on the window ledge in my bathroom. Charlie was outside taking down the trash. I still hadn't told him about any of this. I pressed my hand to my cheek, listening to Dom as he reassured me that Petunia wasn't going to be throwing any more curveballs in my direction. 

My eyes crawled over the skyline outside the window.

"Thank you."

"It's what we're here for," He then went on to explain that he was already out of Seattle. Harper Avery was long past discharged and back wherever he'd come from. Dom had stayed just long enough to serve the papers to Petunia's family and then he'd disappeared back into the shadows.

I started picking at my cuticles again.

"If you need anything-- Calum wants you to call us."

I smiled faintly. "He's a good guy."

"He is." His agreement came easily. "We're the good guys, remember that."

I didn't reply to that.

"I need you to do something for me," I perked up at that. Out of all of the years I'd spent knowing Dom and Calum, they'd never asked me for anything in return. I shuffled, feeling uneasy at the thought of them needing something from me. "Keep an eye on Charlie, if anything happens with him as well-- call me or Andrew."

"Why?" I asked tenderly, my eyebrows bunching.

Dom took a while to answer. A long sigh filled the call.

"Just... if there's anything... let us know."

***

My second phone call came ten hours later.

I woke up to 5 missed calls and 20 text messages.

It was an angry buzzing that had almost sunk into my dreams perfectly. I was dreaming of my flight out of La Guardia and for a few moments, I thought that the nightmare had gotten worse. I woke with a start, finding arms wrapped around me and my covers constricting my legs. 

I blinked into the gloom and blinked over at my phone as it sat on the nightstand, it's screen lit up and shape shaking urgently.

"What's that?"

His voice was strained and tired as I shuffled beneath the sheets, peeling them off of my body. Hands still firmly around my waist, his eyes opened wearily as I glanced back at his shirtless form, his eyes just visible behind the dip of his pillow. 

Very slowly, I lifted a hand upwards and unlocked the grip he had around me, a slight soft smile flicking across my lips as he seemed to turn onto his side and peer up at me, across the double bed we shared.

"Someone's calling me—" 

I told him softly, my voice hushed and lowered so I wouldn't knock the fatigue from Charlie's muscles. His eyes were half open and I knew that he wouldn't understand what I was saying anyway.