Chapter Text
Mark thinks that he might actually combust, watching Addison move about the OR to get to the patient, Derek and Burke are behind him, taking forever to suit up. Addison’s right, the woman is on the verge of waking up and doesn’t have a moment to spare, but he still doesn’t like it. The only thing protecting her from a toxin that made a room full of doctors and nurses faint is a surgical mask.
“Mark, her weight!” Addison yells. It feels like her voice naturally associates frustration with his name.
Fine. If it gets her out of there fast enough. He glances down at the patient’s file, rattling off the number so that Addison can figure out the correct dosage of anesthesia to give the woman.
He’s back to scrutinizing her every move and his heart rate quickens when he sees her fumble and falter. She manages to administer the anesthesia, but fully runs into a tray full of surgical instruments on her way out. She’s going to fall, Mark thinks, and he moves to the door to be ready to catch her.
Addison hits the door and the moment it slides open, he has her in his arms, wrapping them around her back as she hits his chest. “I got you,” he whispers, having to drag her inside the scrub room as Derek and Burke squeeze past them to go into the OR.
With her limp against him, Mark figures that the best thing to do to assess her state is to get her on the ground. It’s a little awkward, but that’s the last thing he cares about right now. He gets his hands under her armpits, doing his best not to injure her legs or her head as he lays her down.
“Shit,” Mark curses, seeing her eyes closed. He checks her pulse, then removes the mask to check her breathing, both of which are stable. So she’s just unconscious, which still isn’t good. “I’ll be right back.” It’s not like she can hear him, but it’s for his own peace of mind.
Mark dashes outside and drags a spare gurney in from the hallway (he really hopes a patient hadn’t needed that). He gets about half of it in there, since the scrub room isn’t very spacious, and then returns to Addison. He hates just leaving her on the floor, but there was no choice.
“Alright, Addison,” he whispers, hooking one arm under her back and the other under her knees. He lifts her up and gently places her on the gurney, strapping her in so that she won’t fall.
Mark spares a glance at the OR and catches Derek’s eye. There’s nothing that needs to be said, Mark gives him a nod, conveying the message that he’ll make sure that Addison’s alright. Derek looks at his ex-wife, returns the nod, and then gets back to work.
Mark rolls Addison out of the scrub room, debating on whether or not to take her to the clinic. He knows that there’s already so many rumors about them – her, really – and Addison doesn’t need anymore. Plus, she won’t appreciate everyone seeing him bring her in there like her knight in shining armor (even though he’d gladly be her knight any day). Still, this is her health. It’s not something he’s willing to play around with just because the staff likes to spread gossip.
He looks down at her. Her eyes are still closed, she’s so still, and it’s unnerving. He wishes that she could tell him what to do.
He finally decides, screw it. She’s unconscious. Just as he starts to push the gurney again, Addison blinks her eyes open. “Mark?” She mumbles, disoriented.
“Hey,” he says, feeling a little lame as he stops the gurney. Then, he tells his brain to pull himself together. “You got exposed to the toxin and you fainted.”
“Is the woman okay?” Addison asks, taking in her surroundings.
“She will be,” Mark responds as he undos the straps on the gurney. “We should get you to the clinic.”
Addison nods and sits up slowly, taking Mark’s arm when he offers it. They get her standing up, but she still has to have her hand resting on top of the gurney for support. “I think I should take you in a wheelchair,” Mark suggests. She glares, but he’s used to it, and he stares right back.
“Fine,” she relents, grumbling unhappily. Mark knows that if he makes a joke about her listening for once it’ll ruin whatever moment is being had here, so he wraps his arm around her shoulders and helps her walk. “Are you sure we should leave the gurney in the middle of the hallway?”
“Eh, it’ll be fine,” Mark dismisses with a wave of his hand.
Thankfully, they find a wheelchair rather quickly. Addison plops herself in it and Mark contemplates saying something, but ultimately just starts in the direction of the clinic.
“Another fallen to the plague,” he announces as they approach the beds full of hospital staff.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Addison admonishes as they stop at an open bed.
She gets into the bed, Mark hovering over her the entire time. He grabs an oxygen mask and offers it to her, only for her to bat it away. They’re just about to argue over it, when the Chief interrupts, “Take the damn mask, Dr. Montgomery.”
Addison glances up at him, slightly embarrassed, and obliges. Mark grins, triumphant. “How are you doing, Chief?” He asks, spotting the IV drip that the man drags alongside him.
Webber lets out a long sigh. “Ask me that after you tell me how Shepherd and Burke are doing. I’m not even sure I want to know what caused this,” he says, gesturing to Addison.
“They just started when I left but I’m sure they’re handling it,” Mark says confidently (he’s relieved that Derek isn’t around to hear that. The last thing that man needs is another ego boost).
Webber looks at him, then at Addison, then back to him. “Shouldn’t you be getting back up there?” He asks, as if it’s obvious.
It probably should be obvious, but the thought hadn’t even crossed Mark’s mind. “Oh,” he says, blinking and quickly trying to compose himself. “Yeah.” Still, he knows he sounds unsure, and he can’t help but look to Addison. He doesn’t want to leave her alone . . . Even if she’s not alone . . . Okay, he doesn’t want to leave her. At all.
She could either laugh at him for being needlessly worried or she could–
Addison pulls down the mask, her eyes softening. “I’ll be fine,” she assures him sweetly. It’s convincing enough for him to pretend that he believes it.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll–I’ll check on you later.”
Mark doesn’t have the courage to look at her reaction and he nods to the Chief before going back to the OR.
God, she really is the only woman who can fluster, confuse, and thrill him like that.
//
Mark stands in the scrub room for 30 minutes, half-paying attention to Derek and Burke as they operate, but mostly letting his thoughts drift back to Addison. When is he ever not thinking about her, really? He still loves her, still wants to be with her, and seeing her in that OR today . . .
“Sloan.”
Mark turns around, surprised to see Webber in the doorway.
“I can take over from here,” he says as he walks inside, glancing at the OR through the large window.
“Are you, uh, sure, Sir?” Mark asks, noting that he still has the IV drip with him.
Webber nods. “You should be downstairs. Montgomery–she wanted to get back to work, underestimated how she felt, and fainted. Bumped her head. You might be the only one who can convince her to slow it down,” he says, still staring out the window.
Mark can’t help but think that wanting him to convince her to rest must not be Webber’s only reason, but he doesn’t care. Not when she’s just fainted again and hit her head. He barely responds, just mumbles something, before he’s running to the clinic.
He forces himself to slow down before everyone sees him and, collecting his breath, calmly turns the corner. He zeros in on the redhead he’s looking for, lying unconscious on the same bed he left her in. Getting closer, Mark finds himself staring at the IV in her left arm and the bandage on her right.
“She ripped her IV when she got up, so we had to put it in her other arm. Seems like the toxins had her very confused,” the nurse explains.
“Did you check her out? Will she be confused when she wakes up?” Mark asks, only tearing his gaze away from Addison to look at the nurse.
“Yes, we examined her. She should be fine, just needs the oxygen mask and plenty of rest. She may be a bit disoriented, but shouldn’t be too confused by now,” the nurse says.
He nods and pulls up a chair, sitting by her side. If he ignores the IV, tunes out the clinic, then he can pretend that she’s just sleeping. Maybe they’re back in New York, where things weren’t great but at least they were together. He can pretend like there’s hope for them.
Sudden rustling breaks his thoughts. Mark sees that Addison’s woken up and is now fumbling around with the oxygen mask.
“Hey, hey, you need that,” he reminds her, fixing it so that it’ll stay on her face.
She slips it off anyway.
“Mark?” Addison asks, groggily, for the second time that day.
He sits up, cracking a smile and giving her a second to adjust. “You gotta stop passing out on me, Red,” he says.
“Mmm,” Addison says, speech a little slow. “This time you weren’t around to see me faint. Doesn’t count.”
Mark scoffs in disagreement, but doesn’t push it. Instead, he takes a long look at her. He knows she’s just woken up, but she’s still pale. The only color on her cheeks is the blush she applied that morning. There’s a haziness to her eyes. The nurse said she’d be fine, and Mark believes her, but that doesn’t make his worry disappear. He begins to wonder what it’ll be like when she goes home. What if she gets dizzy? Trips? Faints again? No one would be around.
“What’re you thinking?” Addison mumbles.
Mark tries not to get hung up on the fact that she can still tell that something’s up by just looking at him. He busies himself with trying to fix her oxygen mask again. This time, she doesn’t fight it.
“I’m thinking that it might not be the best idea for you to go home–” he briefly realizes that he has no clue where home is, but assumes she must have gotten a place after the divorce. “–alone. Especially since you hit your head.”
“Well, what’s the alternative?” Addison points out, shrugging and having abandoned the mask again.
Mark thinks. A solution does come to him, one that he’s not sure it’s even worth mentioning. But then he imagines her driving her car, going to an apartment or something, not feeling good and being alone . He doesn’t like it – it doesn’t even look like she could drive right now.
“I could take you back to your place?” He suggests. It’s not that out-there of an idea, right?
Addison looks conflicted. She doesn’t say anything. To prevent the awkward tension from rising, Mark quickly jokes, “I’d offer to bring you back to my apartment so I can make sure you’ll be fine, but I figure that’ll be a hard no.”
Addison raises her arm to rub her forehead and glares at the bandage there. “I’ll be fine driving,” she murmurs very un-convincingly.
“Maybe, until you pass out and crash your car,” Mark deadpans.
There’s a long moment before Addison sighs. She doesn’t even look at him, but what she says is a complete surprise:
“I’ll go to your apartment.”