TRIGGER WARNINGS:
mentions of abuse & foster care!
if you'd like to skip that, it's when she's
talking to jackson in the basement and
starts talking about her stepdad. it's not graphic, but keep yourselves safe <3

✦

Valentine's Day. A day with mixed opinions; some think it is the best holiday, all about love and flowers and chocolates and grand gestures; some think it is the worst holiday, hating everything about it: a capitalism cesspool.

Briar has hated the holiday for fourteen years, and not for the reason everyone always assumes. Which is why, when she saw she had February fourteenth off of work, she went and begged Derek to put her on the schedule. Fully, completely begged: puppy dog eyes, clasped hands, and bribes.

She's never been happier to be at work.

"Hey, Torres!" Mark calls, walking up to where Briar's walking with Callie. Briar looks sideways at him, waiting for her greeting, but he doesn't seem to register her appearance. "Do you know anything about putting together cribs?"

"You bought a crib?" She asks him, Briar looking at her in confusion now. Mark's made it incredibly clear that he wants Sloan and his grandson to live with him–of course he bought a crib.

"Well, Sloan's coming home tonight, and I got it put together, but it wobbles." He explains, sounding worried, and Briar smiles at that. It's cute, this whole worried dad and grandfather thing.

"I can help." She chimes in, figuring she has the most experience out of the three of them. When Mark turns to her in surprise, she rolls her eyes, although she knows she's betrayed by her fond smile. "Hello Mark, yes I've been walking with you this whole time. You might want to check your vision, you're awfully near-sighted."

"You know how to build a crib?" He asks her, ignoring everything else she said. Rude.

"Yep." She says. "You are looking at a registered foster parent in the state of Washington. I know how to build cribs, change diapers, etcetera."

"I am in love with you." Mark says, looking as if he means it for the moment, making Callie and Briar both laugh at him. "No, like, actually. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"I can tell." She says lightly, before softening up. "Seriously, you're going to be okay. I'll come over and help, and you have my number anytime anything comes up."

"In love with you!" He repeats, leaning over and smacking a kiss on her cheek. "Never should've let you go–ooh, who's the blonde? I may be a dad, but I am a single dad." He declares, looking over her shoulder at a woman. Callie moves to walk away as he ventures over, Briar tugging her back with wide eyes, since she knows exactly who the blonde is.

"It must, uh, suck to work on Valentine's Day." Mark says, sauntering over to the blonde. "I don't believe we've met."

When Lexie turns around, now a blonde instead of a brunette, Mark shrieks.

Actually shrieks. It sounds like he somehow yelled in lowercase. Briar can't hold in her laughter then, her and Callie grabbing onto each other in a desperate attempt to stay on their feet.

"Oh, I needed that." Callie gasps out, grinning at Briar. "She's a hot blonde. How'd you know she dyed her hair?"

"Who do you think dyed it for her?" Briar asks with a smirk, looking over her handiwork. "My emo days paid off for this moment."

"I love you." Callie decides. "I love you more than Mark loves you, like, actually. Oh my God. Oh, I can't wait to tell Arizona about this!"

✦

She's on Callie's service for the day, although with the amount of traumas coming in, Briar thinks she'll end up pulled in every direction. She's excited for it. Anything to take her mind off this godforsaken day. They run to meet the paramedics, Owen, and Derek at the E.R. doors, both wearing the yellow protective gowns, Briar also wearing eye protection.

"Restaurant roof collapse." Briar tells the two male doctors as soon as they pass through the doors, Callie and her walking with them.

"Yeah, so far–a penetrating abdominal injury, a sucking chest wound, and a massive head wound. Also, there's an open fracture on the way. Do you want me–?"

Before Callie can finish her question, a familiar, grating voice fills the room. "Chief Shepherd–"

"Oh, you're still here." He notes, looking at April Kepner. Briar blinks a few times, wondering if she's started hallucinating. Didn't she get fired? After they all got interrogated for her simple mistake of not checking a patient's airway?

"If you're here, I'm here!" Ginger says–although, the nickname isn't accurate anymore, since she's dyed her hair. There seems to be a lot of that going around. Briar's not sure how she feels about the brown hair on her. "There's an OSHA investigator waiting in the lobby and two TV crews are asking for a statement."

Did Derek seriously hire her back as his assistant?

"I told them to wait for you. They're setting up outside." She adds on, just as Callie continues talking about the patients they have waiting.

"We cleared the O.R. board. Also, I paged Bailey, Nelson, Altman, Hagan, and Sloan."

Kepner tries to speak over Callie, Briar shaking her head at her desperation to have Derek's attention. News stations are not as important as injured patients.

"Stop!" Derek shouts at Kepner when their voices overlap, "Who do I see first?"

"Skull fracture, trauma 1." Callie points, while Kepner tries to get him to go to the OSHA guy.

Derek rushes away into trauma room 1, while Owen starts shouting into the room.

"Try to get as many people as possible off the backboards. Clear C-spines clinically, but if you're not sure, wait for x-ray no matter how backed up they are."

"Hold the elevator!" Dr. Bailey shouts, pushing a hospital bed, someone rushing to do as she says.

"Callie–" Briar starts, getting a nod from her friend.

"Yeah, yeah, go!" She tells her, Briar wasting no time in rushing away to help as many people as she can. She's in luck, instantly finding a traumatic amputation victim, Jackson following in with the arm.

She has to hold back a laugh at the way he declares it, holding it up in the air as he shouts, "I've got the arm!"

"We can see that." She mumbles to him, getting an annoyed look in return.

"Traumatic amputation through the left distal humerus." One of the paramedics reports. Briar doesn't know her by name, and makes a mental note to learn it when she can. "Bleeding controlled through pressure. Got 10 of morphine. Vital signs are stable."

"Trauma 3?" Briar asks Owen, getting a quick nod in return.

"Put him on a monitor, push two of O-neg. Sinclair, Avery, you're with me. Grey, you too."

"I need another 4x4." Owen says to the room once they've got him hooked up. Lexie goes to dress the wound, while Owen goes to check on Jackson and Briar's progress with cleaning out the arm. "This wound's completely macerated and contaminated. Why wasn't this guy brought in first?"

"He was lying in dirty dishwater for a while before they found him." Jackson explains, making Briar frown.

"They forgot I was back there."

"No, I'm–" Lexie says softly, trying to reassure him that he's not forgettable, but he doesn't let her.

"It's all right. I'm not. . . I'm not too big on talking to people, and . . . nobody talks to me much back there."

"Their loss." Briar speaks up, smiling at him when he turns to face her.

"My arm's loss." He says, a small grin on his face, and Briar laughs.

"You're right." She concedes, looking up at him again. His eyes are still trained on her, much to her surprise, and she feels herself blush slightly as she looks back down to the arm. Jackson looks sideways at her, but she pointedly doesn't look at him. "I haven't worked in a restaurant in a long time, but your type was always my favorite."

"Yeah?" He asks, and Briar can hear the smile in his voice. "You mean that? Or is it just pity?"

"I mean it. Ask these three, I'm a very honest person." She tells him, moving the arm so that she can get a better angle as she cleans her side. Honestly, they don't exactly need two people doing this, but it'll get it done faster. That's the main goal.

"Were you nice to the dishwashers?" He asks her next, sounding interested. "You seem like you would've been."

"I was." She answers, smiling as she thinks about her experience in food service. The customers and most bosses are awful, but the people you work with can really become family. "They weren't given free meals, so I would always slip them stuff to eat. And the tipping system was awful, the owners said we weren't allowed to tip anyone out, but I would always tip out the bussers and dishwashers. You play an important role in the kitchen."

"I don't want to have one arm." He says after a moment. "They don't even care about me there, and I lost my arm. I-I don't like people staring at me."

Briar frowns, feeling sympathetic to his pain. He went through a horrible trauma, and he's been nothing but kind.

"Have you ever heard of Mark Sloan?" Briar asks him, ignoring the way Lexie turns at her ex-boyfriend's name. "No? He's our plastic surgeon, and he's at the top of his game. He's the best of the best, and I know for a fact that he'll do everything he can for you."

"Promise?" He asks her, his voice small, and she looks up to meet his gaze.

"I promise that he will do everything he can. I can't promise more than that, but I mean it when I say he's the best. He's a friend of mine, so you're in good hands."

When he slowly nods, she gives him her best smile, truly hoping that everything works out for him. He's sweet.

"Frankie, we're going to take you up to surgery now." Owen jumps in, although he doesn't look away from Briar. "We're gonna try and reattach the arm."

"We have an O.R. Grey and I will prep him, you two work on the stump." Owen orders them, Briar nodding at Jackson. "Sinclair, debride the arm. Avery, tag the vessels. Get it up to me as soon as you can."

"Okay." Briar nods, determined to work as carefully and as quickly as she can. She quickly jumps to work, Jackson laughing from across from her.

"Do you flirt with all your patients?" He asks her with a smirk, Briar rolling her eyes as she remains focused on his arm. "Oh, Frankie, I'd totally slip you some food, oh have you–"

"Shut up and focus on your job. The guy lost an arm, we need to get it back on him."

"Sir, yes sir." Jackson says, Briar rolling her eyes. She gets a few moments of peace before Jackson speaks up again. "Alright, I have a question."

"Of course you do." Briar sighs, but nods for him to continue. She has no doubt that he'll just follow her around and antagonize her if she doesn't answer now.

"Have you ever been with an attending?" He asks her, making her eyebrows fly up. He falters at the offended look on her face, before pushing through with the question. "It's just. . . Yang's with Hunt, Torres's with Robbins, Grey's with Shepherd. . . Other Grey is with Sloan, maybe? That's confusing to me. That leaves you and Karev, but he's married to Steven's."

"Is there a point to this?"

"I'm just saying, it's a wonder that you guys get any work done around here. It does explain the favoritism though. So. . . who are you sleeping with to get your surgeries?"

"You can't tell anyone." She whispers, leaning in close, delighting in how intrigued he looks. As soon as he's close enough, she smacks him upside the head, smirking when he yelps in pain. It's worth having to replace her gloves at the contact.

"If you ever suggest that I have to sleep with someone to get surgeries again, I'll ruin your life." She says coldly, making him frown at her even more. "You don't think I can? You talk about favoritism, but I've been working here for years. I've earned every operation, every word of praise, every smile I've gotten from the doctor's here through blood, sweat, and tears."

She stares at him, noticing the way he doesn't back down from the argument, instead staring at her head on. She likes that.

"I don't know how things worked at Mercy West, though. If you had to put out to get your surgeries, just say that."

"I'm pretty." He blurts out, making Briar slowly raise her eyebrows. They're close enough that she can see the specks in his eyes, which are honestly fascinating to her. She's always thought she preferred dark eyes, but she likes the way that his go between green and blue, seeming to depend on his mood and the lighting.

"You are. Do you want a sticker? I can make one for you–ooh, wait! I'll make you a shirt." She says with a laugh, confused about why he's mentioning his looks.

"I would like that, actually." He says with a smirk, before focusing back on the arm even as he continues talking. "No, it's just. . . in my family, I'm the pretty one. You know, um, my eyes, and. . . my smile and my body. I mean, you should see me without a shirt on."

"Take me to dinner first, Avery." Briar says dryly, although she has to admit she wouldn't mind that show.

"Name a time and place." He shoots back, looking down at her. Briar tries really hard not to be affected by that, but she's always had a thing for guys being taller than her. He's really checking all of her boxes, and she kind of hates him for that.

"Okay, so, you're pretty." Briar says, wanting him to get out whatever it is he's trying to say.

"My family never pushed me." He says, making Briar wonder when he decided she was his therapist. "They–they're all over-achievers, super driven, but they never pushed me. My family treated me like I'm pretty. I had to push myself. . . hard. I didn't even tell 'em I was taking the MCAT's until after I aced them. And I was doing really great at Mercy West, I had a good reputation, and then I came here and. . . I don't know, no-one's giving me a chance. Dr. Altman is completely focused on Yang. I understand that she's good, but I am too."

Briar looks at him for a long second, trying to see the merger through his eyes, before sighing.

"Push yourself." She tells him, and he looks up at her again. "Seriously, you just talked to me about how you pushed yourself through the MCAT's with no support–me too, by the way–but I haven't seen that Avery since you first started. You did it when you got in on Derek's inoperable tumor surgery, but since then. . . I don't know, Jackson, I haven't really seen that drive from you."

Jackson looks contemplative, so she decides to give him a minute to think about it. She can't resist one last comment though.

"Really, though, insult me again and I'll make it so that you are the ugly one in your family."

When he chuckles, she can't help but smile to herself.

✦

"We saved the arm!" Briar announces, the two of them rushing into the O.R.

Owen grimaces at her, shaking his head. "It's gonna have to be an amputation. There's too much devascularized tissue, too much contamination."

"Or we can push antibiotics and let the stump heal." Mark adds, Briar nodding quickly.

"Yes, that! Do that!" She agrees.

"But by that time–" Mark continues, Owen finishing the thought for him.

"The arm will be dead." He says, everyone turning to look at the wrapped up arm in Jackson's arms.

"No!" She snaps, making everyone turn to her. "No, I'm sorry, but no. Mark, I talked you up in there. I told him that you were the best, that you would do everything you could, so don't prove me wrong."

"Sincl–"

"No one has ever fought for him." Briar says, certain that that's true. "He's kind, and he's quiet, and he got left behind to die in dirty dishwater! For a restaurant that won't take care of him for a single second. He deserves better than to have to lose his arm, please just . . . um, what about–"

She falters, trying to remember the name of a procedure she's researched before, as Owen and Mark turn back around, dismissing her.

"Temporary ectopic replantation." She whispers to herself, Jackson looking at her for a long moment before shoving her forward. She stumbles, barely catching herself, and shouts the words at the two surgeons.

"Just–just keep the arm alive until the stump heals. Temporary ectopic replantation is–it's extreme, especially since it involves his elbow. I know–I know that he can lose range of motion, but he would keep his arm. He deserves to be fought for."

"Has it ever been done before, above the elbow?" Owen asks, and Mark tilts his head, still staring at Briar.

"I don't know." He answers honestly. "But it could be done. You could implant onto the epigastric and the, uh, vena commitante. Give you a few days for the stump to heal."

"I've never done one."

"Neither have I."

"All the more reason to try." Briar says, begging now. "Come on, I'm already coming over to build the crib–" She ignores the choking sound Lexie makes at that. "This is how you can pay me back. You can wake me up at any time, day or night, I'll be a nonstop babysitter–I don't care, just please!"

"Raise the baby with me." Mark says, and Briar freezes.

"What just happened?" She hears Jackson whisper behind them, and a nurse whispering back, but her eyes are focused on Mark, who looks desperate.

"W-what?" She asks, hearing Lexie ask the same question.

"Sloan–Sloan is giving him up for adoption, and I said I would adopt him. She said she wanted him to go to a family, and Callie was there, telling her that we would do it together. And you! You're a foster mom, you know what you're doing. When we told her that she agreed to think about it. So, um, what do you say? This guy keeps his arm, you help me raise a kid?"

"This hospital is insane." Jackson whispers again, but Briar looks past him at Lexie. Her eyes are wide, her mouth is dropped open, and Briar isn't sure that she's breathing.

And it's. . . it is insane. It's an insane request, and on Valentine's Day of all days. She should say no. She's going to say no.

"Yes." She says, and watches Mark beam at her. Lexie makes a whimpering noise, the reality of what she just agreed to sinking in, making Briar feel a little light-headed. Did she seriously just say yes to raising a child with Mark Sloan and Callie Torres? Oh God, what does Arizona think? How is this going to work? Why did she say yes?

"We could be a TV show." Briar says, forcing a smile on her face. "Two exes–no, one ex, one one-night stand–, a man whore, and a baby. Our own version of Full House."

A baby. An actual baby. Briar suddenly feels her smile becoming real, thinking about how much she loves children. And Callie is a good friend, plus Mark is so excited. . . this can be good. They can make this good.

"Best TV show ever." Mark tells her, pulling her into a tight hug before frowning. "Now we have to scrub in again. It's going to be a long surgery, both of you get ready."

"I'll call Shepherd and let him know." Owen says when Mark nods, giving Briar a smile. Briar's face lights up, remembering the surgery.

A baby and a groundbreaking surgery. Maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all.

✦

"'If you ever suggest that I have to sleep with someone to get surgeries again, I'll ruin your life.'" Jackson imitates her, using her previous words against her as the two of them scrub in. Briar nudges him with her shoulder, not wanting to start the scrubbing process over again by touching him. "You literally admitted to having slept with him in there!"

She can't help but laugh, the sound coming out slightly hysterical.

"You don't have to sleep with someone to get a surgery." Jackson tells her. Briar narrows her eyes at him, wondering what's making him smirk so much. "No, instead you just went all ooh, Dr. Sloan, of course I'll carry your babies."

"You are so lucky I can't hit you right now." Briar tells him, although she can't help but laugh as he makes kissing noises at her. "I'm not carrying his babies! There will be no Sloan Sinclair's from me, thank you very much!"

"No, you're just raising his grandchild with him. Seriously, what is in the water here? Why are you people like this?" Jackson asks, still laughing to himself, and she just giggles.

"Honestly, I have no idea." She admits, because they are ridiculous. There's no explanation for it. "But also, laugh all you want, I just got us both a hardcore surgery. You're welcome, Dr. Avery."

"Well, I thank you very much, Dr. Sinclair." Jackson responds with a slight head bow. Briar shakes her head as she finally finishes scrubbing in, flicking water at him before pulling her hands out of her sink.

"Hey." She hears before she can get in the O.R., making her turn to see Jackson looking almost nervous. "Is there–uh–are there any romantic feelings between you and Sloan? It's just, uh, that–"

"Not at all." She says, not minding the question as much as she thought she would. She likes that he's asking her, instead of asking around. It's blunt, and maybe none of his business, but she isn't bothered by it. "See you in there, Jax."

✦

"You couldn't do it?" Frankie asks as soon as he catches sight of the wrapped stump in place of his arm. Briar shares a nervous look with Jackson, worried about how he's going to take what they've done to him. It's temporary, but it's going to be a huge shock.

"Do you trust me?" Briar asks him, smiling gently when he slowly nods. "Okay. This is going to be a shock for you, but we had to take some extraordinary measures to save your arm. Your arm needs a blood supply in order to stay alive so that we can reattach it as soon as you're healthy enough to."

"We had to relocate it." Owen takes over, the two of them gently moving Frankie's blankets to show his arm, attached to his side.

"Is that my arm!?" He exclaims, staring down at his body in a mixture of shock and horror. "What did you do? Why would you do this to me?"

"It's temporary." Briar quickly promises, hating that they're putting him through this. "I promise, it's only temporary. We had to in order to save your arm and–"

Briar isn't surprised when he starts yelling, or when Owen kicks her and Jackson out of the room. She walks straight down to the basement, ignoring the rushed footsteps behind her, and shoves herself onto her favorite abandoned gurney.

"This is a nice spot." Jackson says, looking around a few minutes later. He hands her a bottle of Coke, slowly sipping out of his own water bottle, before nodding to the gurney. "Can I?"

Briar nods, not pointing out the other gurneys he could sit on instead. She just stares down at the drink he bought her, starting to peel the label in an attempt not to peel at her lips or fingers instead.

"He's in shock, but he'll be relieved when he has his arm." Jackson tells her. Briar nods silently, before turning to look at him, blinking at how close he is to her again.

"What time is it?" She asks, ignoring how confused he looks. He looks down, checking his watch, and then looks back at her. His eyes are blue, right now.

"11:53 pm." He answers, and Briar makes a choked sound, a sob following right after. She folds herself over, one hand going to her chest while the other flies to her mouth, trying to stop the tears and the pain.

"Woah, hey, you're okay." Jackson rushes out, sounding panicked, and a laugh slips out between the sobs. She chokes on it, feeling like she's falling apart. She hates that he's watching her, but doesn't want to be alone, and it's not like she can get the words out to tell him to leave. She just shakes, and cries, and tries to shut her brain off. "You're okay. I don't know what's going on right now, but we can fix it. Is this about Frankie? Because seriously, he–No? No it's not about him? Okay. Um. Here, please sit up."

Briar doesn't protest when she's pulled up, leaning back against his chest. It should be uncomfortable, because she doesn't know him very well. They have this friendship/rivalry thing going on, but right now, she needs a friend.

She stops sobbing after a few minutes of him going over breathing patterns with her, instead starting to hiccup, tears still falling down her face. She feels disgusting: her eyes are swollen, her nose is running, and her body won't stop shaking.

"Here, drink this." Jackson hands her his water bottle. Briar almost drops it, watching as he holds it steady until she feels more stable, keeping his hand close by incase she drops it. She drinks the entire thing, slowly calming down. She's the most relieved when her hiccups stop, because they were hurting her throat.

She grimaces as she uses the sleeve of her lab coat to wipe her face, making a mental note to grab a different one. Slowly, she pulls herself away from Jackson, giving him a quick look. He doesn't look annoyed or anything, only concerned.

"Sorry." She says quietly, and he just shakes his head.

"Don't be. Do, uh, do you want to talk about it?"

Briar bites her lip, looking away for a moment before facing him again. She must look like a nightmare, but he isn't making excuses to get away from her. He looks as if he honestly cares. Maybe it's a trick–maybe he's like his friends, just playing nice to get information. But she genuinely doesn't think that's the case here. She thinks maybe he's just kind.

"I don't like Valentine's Day." She says slowly, thinking back to the worst one of her entire life. Jackson slowly nods, looking lost about the significance of it, and Briar decides to be honest. As honest as she can be without completely trauma dumping, that is.

"It's my brother's birthday." She says, seeing some understanding start to appear on Jackson's face. "He, uh, he hasn't spoken to me in thirteen years. On his–his eleventh birthday, our step-father, he. . ." She stops talking, biting harshly down on her lip when it wobbles. She can't help but be frustrated with herself: she's not normally this emotional when she tells people. She's gotten good at compartmentalizing her emotions over the years.

"You don't have to tell me." Jackson says, his eyes roaming over her face. Briar looks at him, at the worry pinching his eyebrows together, the soft look in his eyes, and finds that she wants to tell him.

"I want to," She says, her voice hoarse, and he slowly nods his head.

"He used to hurt me a lot. I won't give you the details, but it–it was really bad. But he never touched my brother, so I just sucked it up, like, like it didn't matter that I was hurt as long as Sebastian was taken care of. And he was. He was really happy, and our step-dad let me take care of him, and gave me the resources to take care of him. But one day–Seb was eleven, and he didn't know better, but it was his birthday and our step-dad picked a fight with him, and he fought back. And he got slapped for the first time."

She looks at Jackson while she speaks, reading his facial expressions. His eyes give his emotions away; his shock, his sadness, his anger. All right there for Briar to read.

"And I–I freaked out. You know all those stories about, um, moms doing crazy things with adrenalin? That was me. I just remember being so angry, so angry, and wanting him to get away from my brother. And I put him through our coffee table, and I hit him and hit him and hit him. Sebastian's the one who pulled me off of him, and a–a neighbor had called the cops at the noise, which was ironic because they never called when I was getting hurt. But the cops came, and he survived but there was other stuff going on, illegal stuff, so he and our mom went to jail. And we went to foster care. He got adopted really quickly, but I never did, and he blamed me for all of it. And I couldn't tell him about everything, I just couldn't, so . . . so it's been thirteen years since we've talked. And it's his birthday."

"Can I hug you?" Jackson asks her, confusing her. Normally people apologize, or ask awkward questions, or insult her brother–that only makes her mad. They don't hug her. She slowly nods, tense as he reaches over and pulls her into him. It takes a minute for her to relax, and then she's sinking into him.

"You're a good hugger." She mumbles, the sound muffled in his scrubs, and he chuckles from above her.

They don't say anything, or move, until their pagers go off. He doesn't show any indication of discomfort, or bring up what she told him, and that's relieving enough for her to refocus on her work.

✦

"All those people out there, they just want to stare at me." Frankie says while Briar is doing his checkup, referring to the doctors standing outside his room.

"Yes, they do." She says, giving him a small smile. "I know you don't like the attention, but nobody is staring at you because they think you're a freak. They think that you're a miracle. The procedure we're doing, it's very rare. Also, and you didn't hear this from me, there's a personal injury lawyer who wants to talk to you. They think that the restaurant is going to owe you a lot of money."

"How much money?" He asks, and Briar smirks at him.

"Frankie, say goodbye to your awful employers." She says, making him laugh ever so slightly. "Okay, you're looking really good. I'll keep checking in on you, as will Dr. Avery and Dr. Hunt. The other doctors want to talk to you, and ask you questions, because this is a teaching hospital, but I can keep them away from you."

"Dr. Sinclair?"

"Yeah?"

"About earlier, I'm sorry–"

"Don't be." She assures him quickly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You've been through a lot of trauma, and I would yell too, if I woke up to the news you did. It's a lot to take in. . . and I'm glad that you spoke up about your feelings. It's important to fight for herself."

"You fought for me."

"Hmm?"

"Dr. Avery told me that they didn't think they could save my arm, but you fought for me to keep it. And I–I don't know how to feel about where it currently is, or the attention, but. . . if I get to keep my arm and win a lot of money, I don't think there's much to complain about."

"That's a good way to look at it." Briar agrees, fighting with herself to not start blushing or smiling too widely. Jackson really came and talked to him for her? That's. . . well, it's really sweet.

"Have your nurse page me if you need anything at all." She tells him, a wide smile overtaking her face as soon as she's out of the room, waving the doctors away from the room. Jackson is nearby, talking with Owen, and Briar can only smile at him when they make eye contact. It's not until she's halfway through the hall that realization overtakes her, and she has to fight back a whine.

Before she can freak out too much, Callie is calling her.

"Oh hello, fellow Mom to Mark's baby." Briar greets her with a smirk, giggling to herself at the title. Seriously, what did they get themselves into?

"Uh, about that. You need to get to Mark's, now. And uh, oh no, is he on his way over? Fuck, fuck, we need–"

"Callie, you're scaring me a little bit, but Mark's still here. I'll go get–"

"NO!" Briar grimaces at Callie's shout, pulling her phone away from her ear for a moment. "No, make him stay there. Distract him, uh, sleep with him or something!"

"Ew, no." Briar says instantly, shivering as she remembers the one time they slept together. She's never repeating that. "I will distract him, though, and I'll be right over. Are you okay?"

"I will be if you hurry up."

"Jeez, okay. See you in a bit." She hangs up, shaking her head to herself. She can't believe she got herself involved in years of this.

"Mark! Hey, wait up!" She shouts, seeing her friend about to enter the elevator. He turns, a big smile on her face when he sees her.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite person. Well, aside from Callie. You get the point." He says, making her smile slightly. His happiness is contagious. "Are you ready to get out of here? Got your crib making pants on?"

He's such a lame dad already, holy fuck.

"Sure am!" Briar agrees with a bright, slightly awkward, smile. "But actually, Frankie has some questions about the operation that I thought you would be most equipped to answer. I'll head out now though, see what we can do about this crib. Oh! And you should grab food on your way over. Food and booze. As much as you can get because–"

"You're acting weird." He tells her, his eyes narrowing as hers widen.

"What? No. No, I am not. I'm just excited." She lies, making him nod, no longer looking suspicious.

"Me too. Okay, fine, I'll meet you there." He says, turning to go to Frankie's room. Briar sprints for the elevator, still not sure what's going on with Callie, but knowing she has to act fast.

✦

"What do you mean she left?" Briar yells at Callie, who wastes no time yelling back.

"I mean, she left! She wants someone else to adopt the baby, and what was I supposed to do? Tackle her? Tape her to a chair? Help me with the damn crib!" She snaps, making Briar sigh in defeat as she goes to the other side of the crib.

"This is, like, the worst way to tell him." She says, referring to them taking the crib apart instead of putting it together properly. Callie just grunts, the two of them disassembling in silence for a few minutes before it gets to Briar.

"I think I like Jackson." She blurts out, making Callie drop her end of the crib, the other end hitting Briar in the leg. "Ow! Callie!"

"You like Avery?" Callie asks, ignoring her pain. "Huh. I get it."

"You do?" Briar asks, still shocked about her own feelings.

"Yeah, you're both hot. He's totally your type. Like, your actual type, not what you pretend is your type. He's tall, he's got green eyes, he's rocking the whole buzz cut and trimmed facial hair thing. Also, you have a competence kink–"

"I do not!" Briar shouts, her face turning bright red as she glares at Callie, who just laughs at her.

"Oh, you totally do. I need to see the two of you in surgery together, I'm sure you melt every time he does something right. Competence kink."

"Oh, my God." Briar realizes, gaping at her friend. "Oh, my God, I do have a competence kink!"

"Hallelujah." They hear, both of them dropping the crib when they turn to see Mark. A second later, Briar screams as the weight of it lands on her foot.

"It's fine." Briar pants out, waving them away as she drops to the floor and examines her foot. Oh, that's going to bruise.

"You don't have to do that," He says softly, referring to them building the crib.

"I wanted to finish before you got home." Callie admits, sharing a defeated look with Briar as Mark walks further inside, dropping a bag of food down on the floor and joining them.

"And you don't have to do what you offered to do." He continues, Briar frowning to herself.

"I mean, I didn't offer but–"

"I'm not gonna hold you to that." He adds quietly, shooting a look to the privacy curtains. Briar's heart sinks when she realizes that he thinks Sloan is behind them, likely sleeping. Oh, this is heartbreaking. "But thank you so much for offering. And, uh, it could be kinda great, right?" He whispers the last part, his smile wide, tears in his eyes. Briar has to look away from him.

She looks back up when Callie drops the side of the crib, the clatter making her jump and then wince in pain.

"What are you doing?" He asks, barely louder than a whisper, looking around at the disassembled crib.

They don't even have to tell him. It's obvious from the look on his face that he understands what's happening, and Briar has never felt more helpless. She shares a look with Callie, both of them moving to sit on either side of him, letting him fall apart.

✦

authors note:
lexie's reaction next chapter... oh mama. she's PISSED!

briar and jackson are so funny to me with their back and forth. briar drives him home so he doesn't hurt himself while tired & then is all "haha i hope you lose your job" like baby... no you don't. i love jackson's one liners, and when he mimics people. one of my favorite lines of his is when he's mocking april's crush on derek to meredith, that whole "spank me if im wrong" line gets me every time.

briar has a competency kink 100%, but so does jackson. (how did he end up with april? fuck i'm mean, i really don't like her— but don't worry, i won't constantly be bashing her for the sake of bashing her. she's going to butt heads with briar and the others quite a bit though, but that's literally part of the show, so.)  briar also has a thing for humor, so she's set with jackson.

i just think it's funny that briar is always thinking about how pretty jackson is, the color of his eyes, loves making him laugh & is always laughing at his jokes... and is just now going "wait a second..." like honey you're late to the party

i see a lot of hate towards sloan, and i know a lot of it is because she "got between" mark & lexie. there's none of that here. she's an 18 year old who doesn't owe anyone anything. it's natural to be terrified when she's mostly alone—seriously, she doesn't know mark very well!—and pregnant. there's nothing wrong with her putting the baby up for adoption, and for not giving him to mark. and there's nothing wrong with mark being upset about it. nor is there anything wrong with lexie not being ready and distancing herself. the one thing that is wrong was mark getting mad at her for sleeping with alex, while he was sleeping with addison. and yes, he should've been more aware of her feelings and communicative, but overall their breakup was just a bad situation.

i have way too many thoughts about this show that i never planned on watching or liking. someone rescue me.