Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟲𝟵 she had a marvellous time ruining everything

"I asked her to get me a shirt--"

"I know," She replied, watching as he undid his tie, "She asked me for the keys but I was happy to go grab it." He nodded haplessly, "She's doing her job."

A beat passed.

"Was it Mark?"

Her question would've made him laugh if it wasn't for the fact that any expression or movement made his whole lower face burn. 

Instead, he just went for a light grimace, the closest thing he could manage to a displeased smile. He couldn't make the sound either; all that escaped him was a faint groan; he shook his head and drew in a long, strained breath.

"Beth."

Meredith didn't appear very surprised. 

Slowly, she nodded, walking forwards until they were just a desk apart. 

He felt her eyes on her, heavy and scrutinising. Meredith didn't speak until he looked at her, his gaze slowly dragging upwards (to her, he appeared like a kid who knew they were about to reprimanded. It made her frown to herself and wait for whatever grand story this was going to turn out to be--)

"Beth?"

She repeated as if to prompt him to expand on what he meant. 

(Silently, Meredith was doubting that Beth was the type of person to walk into a room and throw a fist without a reason behind it.) 

She averted her eyes down to the table and pressed her lips into a thin line, trying her best not to chuckle-- it didn't feel right with the very clear mood. But, Derek seemed to sense it. His brow, very slowly, furrowed.

"What?"

Meredith just shook her head, "I was wondering how long it'd take her before she spoke her mind."

Listlessly, Derek stared across his desk, slowly undoing his tie. 

She held his gaze and he didn't like the way that Meredith seemed to smile slightly to herself, as if she wasn't as alarmed at the amount of blood that was covering him as he was. (He'd been startled at it. He'd been put off by the throbbing in his nose and the way that his head was dizzy. It was as if Beth had been strong and abrupt enough to quite literally knock something into him. (Meredith would have vehemently argued against sense) 

Swiftly, Derek changed his shirt, glancing down at his pager just to check.

Mark wasn't responding to his page or his text messages. Odd.

"Speak her mind?" He said as he checked his cell phone. Again, nothing. His wife just watched him, leaning against his desk as he tossed his old shirt aside, planning to dump it in the nearest biohazard bin when he had the chance. "Does that really include physical assault?"

Meredith shrugged, "Have you met Beth?" 

He frowned at her. 

Meredith just raised an eyebrow back at him. 

"Have you forgotten what you said when she came to Seattle?" Another question that Derek didn't really know how to respond to. "You said that it was only a matter of time before she broke something--"

Derek paused. He had said that.

 Although, at the time he'd meant Mark's nose and not his (well, he'd know if it was broken for sure if Mark would answer his stupid pager.) He could remember Meredith lingering in the bedroom door of their house, arms crossed over his chest and brow furrowed.

 ("Why has no one ever mentioned Beth before?") Derek, with a sigh, had had to play it off, as if the thought of how New York ended with Beth, hadn't filled him with an insurmountable amount of guilt. ("She's Addison's sister, not mine. I didn't want to lead with information about my ex-wife's family. That's not a great pickup line.")