Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟳𝟱 these violent delights have violent ends

It made her wonder whether Andrew had spoken about them, particularly about her to Charlie. That was how information worked, right? It was easy to assume that if Beth knew it was probably through her fiancé telling her. 

Did that mean Andrew had said something? 

Was he talking about them? 

As in together? 

As in a couple?

Teddy halted for a few moments and then, very slowly chuckled under her breath.

"He's great too," was her tentative response. Beth, very quietly told Teddy that she was glad to hear it. "Have you been feeling any discomfort at all?"

The air in the examination room was cold, rife with a chill that seemed to bite every surface. Between the feeling of cold rubber gloves against her skin and the slight hesitation in Beth's answer, there seemed to be a shiver that constantly hung over them. 

Teddy tilted her head expectantly, gazing down at the incision that was still pink and raised. It was the traditional sternotomy scar, a red line that traced from just in between Beth's breasts and halfway down her chest. 

To the eye, it was healing nicely, but Teddy paused inquisitively as Beth seemed to sigh to herself.

"Sometimes," She responded, "Not too often but sometimes if I just move in a certain way. It's not great but I guess that it's kinda like leftover bruising, right?" She paused and then, after a moment, recalled the sharp pain that would fill her whenever her muscles twinged in a certain way or her chest seized, "Do I need to be worried?"

"Beth," Teddy interjected, her smile appearing amused but stern. 

The psychiatrist halted immediately, goosebumps raised on her shoulders and cheeks flushed from the persistent cold. 

"Nine weeks ago I had to do a thoracotomy procedure to inflate your lungs," was all the surgeon said, "I had to operate avoiding hard anathesistics and while you were already recovering from a broken rib. Not to mention you have spent your whole recovery on nothing but ibuprofen. You look so much better than you did when I last saw you."

Teddy watched Beth's eyes slide away from hers, almost shamefully as she shifted underneath her hands. 

The session had been met with a lot of apprehensions, Teddy still not too sure exactly why Beth had been avoiding every check-up that had been scheduled. They'd had to move her back to Seattle Grace and Teddy was completely oblivious to the fact that just last week, Beth had threatened to discharge herself against medical advice. 

Instead, Teddy had entered the room with half of her completely convinced that Beth was going to be a no-show-- but then, she'd spied the psychiatrist already waiting, face made up into a shy, soft smile.

Not only that, but Teddy had also meant it when she said that Beth looked better. 

As she moved to prep an ultrasound, she found herself lingering on memories that she would've rather forgotten. They'd all had a hard day, some had had it worse than others-- Teddy blinked and saw a flash of that ambulance ride, of Beth, strapped to a bed and a Plastic Surgeon who seemed to fade into someone so unlike himself--

"I've got a patient upstairs whose ten weeks post-op from the same surgery that you had," Teddy continued, missing the way that Beth buried her teeth into her bottom lip as if to stop herself from speaking. "This might be a bit cold, by the way," The psychiatrist nodded and winced only minimally as Teddy spread gel across her chest. "But my patient had an advanced thoracotomy procedure and has been on heavy medication ever since, and he's only just been discharged today."