Moments Like This, Part II
By: Lori (SixteenOzs)

DISCLAIMER: "ER," the characters, and situations depicted within are the property of Warner Brothers Television, Amblin Entertainment, Constant c Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. The story presented here is written solely for entertainment purposes and the author is not making a profit.

Please do not post or redistribute without the disclaimer above, or without the consent of the author.

Feedback is always welcome. I'd love to know what you think. Please send any questions, comments, or criticisms to SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com

SUMMARY: Follows Moments Like This, Part I

Stories in this series:

1. Long Way Back
2. Working Together
3. Moments Like This

PART II - The Next Morning

Susan turned her head and stared at the clock. It was early, but she'd been awake for almost an hour. Finally realizing that getting back to sleep was hopeless, she slipped out of bed, being careful not to wake Mark.

She smiled for a moment as she watched him sleep. She was so used to seeing him under the stress and pressure of the ER, that it was almost surprising to see him so relaxed and peaceful.

With a sigh, she walked into the living room and curled up in the corner of the sofa. Over and over, she asked herself why this was happening. Why now? For the first time in over two years she was living for herself, and she was happy.

She wasn't worried about Chloe or Susie. It was enough for her to know that they were safe and happy in Phoenix. Even though it was rarely easy, she loved her job and she was good at it. But most importantly, she was in love. She'd never known anything like what she felt when she was with Mark. She'd been waiting for something like this for a very long time. It seemed as if she'd just gotten the pieces of her life in order, and now, everything was being overturned again.

As she watched the sun slowly begin to illuminate the city, the only thing she could think about was the look on his face, as he realized she was really getting on that train, leaving Chicago, leaving him. That image haunted her during the six months she was in Phoenix. When she made the decision to move back, she promised herself that she would NEVER do anything to cause that look again. But as she looked at things now, she was sure they'd both end up getting hurt.

It was the last thing she wanted, but it was what she knew she had to do. She had to let him go. He deserved to be happy, and he'd have a better chance of doing that with someone else, someone who wasn't sick.

She knew him well enough to know that he would probably hate her. She also knew he'd have every right to. But she reminded herself that this was for the best. She just hoped that one day he would be able to find it in his heart to forgive her.

It wasn't that she was giving up. It was just that she would be facing this alone. It wouldn't be the first time. She'd made it through medical school on her own. No one had been there to help when she took custody of Susie. This was just one more battle she'd fight on her own, and one that she had every intention of winning. But she couldn't take the chance of him getting hurt in the process. It would be better to end it now.

She pulled her knees to her chest as the tears began to fall freely down her face. Silently, she gathered her courage, and prayed that her heart wouldn't betray her in what she was about to do.

She wasn't sure how much time passed before she heard Mark get out of bed. She quickly wiped her face on the sleeve of the sweatshirt she'd borrowed.

"Good morning," he said sleepily from the doorway as he put on his glasses.

"'Morning," she replied, managing a smile.

"How long have you been up?" he asked as he crossed the room and sat down next to her.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "a while."

"You should have woken me up," he commented.

She gave him a slightly amused smile and shook her head, "You just got off of a thirty-six hour shift. You needed the sleep."

"I wouldn't have minded."

"I would," she said, shifting her gaze from him to the coffee table. "I just needed some time to think."

He watched her curiously for a minute before asking, "Anything you want to talk about?"

Might as well get this over with. She drew in a deep breath, but the telephone rang before she could say anything. As Mark got up to answer the phone, she slowly exhaled and walked over to the window.

He came back a few minutes later. "That was Emily. She said she could fit you in around ten-thirty this morning. I told her that would be fine."

She was staring out the window, absently toying with a loose thread on the cuff of the sweatshirt. She drew in another deep breath as she turned to face him.

"Mark, I think we should stop seeing each other."

His jaw dropped and everything around him seemed to come to a crashing halt. This had to be a mistake. That was the ONLY explanation that made any sense. He stared at her for a full minute before he was finally able to find his voice. "What? Why?" he asked incredulously.

"This isn't going to work," she said, desperately trying to keep her voice even. "I haven't been back that long. We can end it now, before we get in too deep, before we get hurt."

This was so much harder than she had expected. The look in his eyes was almost more than she could bear.

She turned back to the window. Trying to sound strong and optimistic, she said, "I'm sure you'll find someone who loves you."

He still couldn't believe this was happening. How could she even consider this? Her back was still to him. He stepped closer. "It wouldn't matter," he said simply, "because I love you."

She swallowed hard to push back the lump in her throat. "Mark, please," she whispered, "you're not making this any easier."

"Good," he said firmly. "This shouldn't be easy. This should be the hardest thing that you have ever done."

One some level, he knew he should probably be angry with her. He let her back into his life, and she was ready to walk away. AGAIN. Instead of anger, however, what he felt was closer to fear. She was such a large part of his life. He wasn't sure what he'd do without her. All he knew was that he had to do everything he could to stop her from irrevocably damaging both of their lives.

"Look at me, Susan," he said as he gently reached for her shoulder and turned her to face him. He looked into her eyes and said, "I don't think I've ever been as happy as I've been since you moved back. You told me you felt the same." He hated to ask this next question, but he had to make her realize what she was doing, "Was that a lie?"

She drew in a sharp breath, almost as if he had slapped her. She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. She stared at the floor, unable to look at him. She couldn't answer that question. She couldn't tell him the truth, she would lose her resolve, but she wouldn't tell him a lie. He deserved better than that.

He waited, but she didn't answer. "I don't think it was," he finally said. "All I need to do is look in your eyes, and I can tell that you feel the same way I do. We both made a lot of mistakes last year, but we got lucky. We got a second chance. After everything it's taken to get here, can you honestly tell me that you're ready to walk away?" he asked, his voice a mixture of pain, fear and disbelief.

"Mark, this isn't something I want to do. It's something I have to do," she said, almost begging him to understand.

"Why?" he asked in confusion.

Tears were now slipping down her face, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. "Mark, this is for the best. I know you may not believe me, but this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. One day, I hope you can understand, and then, maybe you can forgive me." She kissed him on the cheek and turned towards the door.

He stared after her, unable to speak. He tried to convince himself that this was a mistake, but the reality of everything was starting to set in. She was leaving.

Before she reached the door, he asked, "So, that's it? You've made your decision and there's nothing I can do to stop you?"

She stopped as he started to speak and turned back to face him. She tried to look him in the eye, but her gaze fell short.

"I know this is going to sound like an ultimatum, but it's not," he said slowly. "I love you, Susan. And I always will, but if you walk out that door right now, then that's it. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep loosing you."

His words cut through her like a knife, as what she was doing suddenly became painfully obvious. She was filled with a strange mix of fear and anger. She was terrified that she may be walking away from what she had been looking for all her life. Yet at the same time, she was also angry because he couldn't understand that she was only doing it to protect him.

It was easier to get mad at him for not understanding her reasons than it was to face the fear and uncertainty that came with knowing she was pushing him out of her life.

"Damn it, Mark," she said in exasperation, "can't you see that's what I'm trying to prevent? Everyday we're together, I fall in love with you even more. But this is going to tear us apart. I don't want you sitting in some hospital room watching this destroy everything we had. It'll be easier if we end it now. The longer we're together, the harder it'll be to say goodbye," she said as the tears flowed freely down her face.

He stared at her in shock as he finally realized why she was doing this. She had already assumed that this was cancer, and that it was going to kill her. He walked closer to her, then softly asked, "Is that what this is about? You don't want me to watch you die?"

She nodded slowly, almost guiltily.

"You really don't get it, do you?" he asked softly.

Seeing her confused expression, he began to explain, "I'm ALREADY in too deep, Susan. I am completely and totally in love with you. I don't care if it's six months or sixty years. I want to spend every moment I can with you."

"Besides," he continued, "we don't know that this is cancer. Even if it is, survival rates today are better than they've ever been, and they're only getting better. Susan, I've waited too long to find something that feels this right. I can't just let this slip away."

More than anything else, she wanted to believe him, and in her heart, she already knew he was right; but she was still afraid they'd both get hurt. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," he said firmly.

"What if this is cancer? What if I have to go through chemo or radiation or a mastectomy?" she asked softly.

"Look at me, Susan," he said with a smile, "do you really think I'm concerned with hair?"

She had smile at his self-depreciating humor, but her smile quickly faded and she became serious once again. "I just want to make sure you know that you can get out now, if that's what you want. It probably won't be easy, and you don't owe me anything. I'll understand if you want to leave."

"Is that really what you want?" he asked, still finding it hard to believe that she doubted him.

"I just don't want you to regret this," she said, fidgeting with her hands.

"Susan, I won't. I promise," he said, taking her hands in his own. "No matter what happens, good or bad, we stand a better chance of surviving it together. You were here for me after the attack, and I honestly don't know how, or even if, I could have made it through that without you. I just hope I can do the same for you."

Realizing that he never completely answered her question, he added, "If you have to go through treatments, I really don't care what changes they make on the outside, as long as you're still here with me and I can hold you in my arms. When you moved to Phoenix last year, what I missed most was the intelligent, warm, funny, compassionate woman who was my best friend, the woman I'd fallen in love with. If I'd just wanted a warm body here, I could have probably found that. But there is so much more to you that I couldn't replace, no matter where I looked or how hard I tried."

As he was standing there, seriously forced to face the possibility of losing her, he couldn't help but think of all that she meant to him. "There is so much I love about you, Susan. I love the way you like to curl up on the sofa and watch old movies on rainy afternoons. I love the way that just looking at you can give me the strength to keep going, no matter how bad things get. I love knowing that I can cause that smile on your face that lights up the entire room. But most importantly, I love the way that you know me. I can be myself with you. I don't even try the tricks or the lies, because I know you'd see right through them all."

She let out a shaky breath and stared at the floor. For the first time in her life, she was completely and totally terrified. She was worried that this was cancer, and that it could kill her. She was afraid of walking away now and losing the most important person in her life, but she was also afraid of staying because that would only make saying goodbye harder when the time came. Her head and her heart were pulling her in different directions, and she didn't know which one to follow.

She'd always considered herself to be the sensible, responsible type. She was used to following her head. But, somehow, through all the confusion she was currently feeling, she remembered the last time she did the "sensible" thing. She got on that train.

She wasn't completely sure she could trust her heart, and she knew getting hurt was a very real possibility for both of them, but she couldn't make the same mistake twice. She walked away once. Doing it again wasn't an option. Drawing in another deep breath, she made her decision. She gave into the compelling force that seemed to pull her towards him.

Looking up slowly, her eyes met his and she searched for some sign that this was the right choice. What she saw was a combination of fear and confusion that mirrored her own, but she also saw love and she knew that he would always be there if she needed him.

"You were right," she finally said.

"About what?" he asked.

She couldn't help but smile at the confused expression on his face that she'd always found so adorable. "I've waited too long to find something that feels this right. I can't just let this slip away. And I am so incredibly sorry that I ever even considered it," she said with a tremor in her voice.

"It's okay," he said with sigh of relief as he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. Nothing else needed to be said. He just wanted to hold her, to feel her next to him.

She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his back. She wished she could stay in that moment forever. She felt safe, protected, complete.

"Mark?" she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared," she admitted softly.

He felt her tears on his shoulder as his own slipped down his face. He held her tighter. "I know. Me, too."

"I'm ready," Susan said as she locked the front door of Carol's house and joined Mark on the porch.

"Got everything?" Mark said, looking up from his seat on the steps.

"I think so," she nodded as she dropped her duffel bag on the top step and sat down beside him. "I left Carol a note. I told her I'd be with you for the rest of the week and that I'd explain everything later."

"You're sure this is what you want to do?" he asked. He was relieved that she was staying with him, but at the same time, he didn't want to pressure her into anything.

She thought for a moment before nodding, "Yeah. Thanks for letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it."

"I'm just glad you still want to, after this morning," he admitted.

She gave him an apologetic smile, then seriously said, "I am sorry about that."

"I know," he nodded.

They were both lost in their own thoughts for a moment. Looking at his watch, he commented, "We've still got about forty minutes before we need to be a the hospital. Is there anywhere else you want to go?"

"Not really," she said, shaking her head. "I should probably get there early anyway, to fill out that mountain of paperwork. I just want to get this over with."

"Let's go," he said as he stood up, picked up her bag, and reached for her hand.

Thirty minutes later they were sitting in Dr. Emily Westmore's waiting room. Susan had completed all of the necessary forms, and was told by the receptionist that Dr. Westmore was running about twenty minutes behind schedule.

Leaning back in her chair, she sighed and said, "I'm not used to this."

"What do you mean?" Mark asked.

"I'm used to running around, trying to do everything at once, because I know there are a ton of patients who still need to be seen. I'm not used to being the patient, just sitting around waiting," she explained.

He smiled and gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. "I'm starting to wish I'd brought a deck of cards."

"Me, too," she laughed before suggesting, "You could always go down to the ER and get a stack of charts to review if you're that bored."

"Chart review? On my day off?" he questioned. "Not exactly my idea of a good time."

"Like being here is?" she countered.

"I'm with you," he pointed out.

She smiled and shook her head. That was definitely seeing the glass as half-full. "You're good," she remarked.

He smiled. In a caring tone, he asked, "How are you holding up?"

"I don't know anymore," she said with a shrug. "I hate not knowing, but I'm not sure I want the answer, either. The butterflies in my stomach are in overdrive, and I can honestly say that I'd rather be doing a flight rotation right now."

Knowing how much she hated to fly, he laughed, "That is bad."

The smile on her face prompted him to ask, "What?"

"I was just thinking about the last flight rotation we did. Up on the roof, before we left," she said, still smiling.

"Yeah," he said, smiling as well, "that was great."

She looked away from him and stared at the floor. Sighing, she had to admit that she wasn't ready to accept that the moments like that were over.

They were both quiet as they waited for the next fifteen minutes. Susan jumped slightly when the nurse finally called her name. He held her hand for a moment before she could get up.

"I'm here if you need me," he reminded her.

"I know," she nodded. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he smiled as he let go of her hand. Staring after her as she walked towards the exam rooms, he silently prayed that she'd be okay.

Susan sat on the edge of the exam table, remembering exactly why she hated hospital gowns. They left no room for modesty.

A few minutes later, an attractive woman in her mid-thirties entered the exam room. Her shoulder length brown hair was pulled back into a French braid. She was wearing a pair of tailored navy blue slacks, a white silk blouse, and a lab coat.

With a friendly smile, she said, "You must be Susan Lewis. I'm Emily Westmore."

"Nice to meet you," Susan said, extending her hand.

"I've heard quite a bit about you," Emily commented as they shook hands.

"Really?" Susan questioned as she wondered where this information came from. "Mark?"

"Some, but also the hospital rumor mill," she said with a grin.

"At least it was a reliable source," Susan said with a laugh.

"You know Mark and I went to med school together, right?" Emily asked.

"Yeah," Susan nodded.

"I don't know if I could have made it through my ER rotation without him. I'm just not cut out for the ER," she admitted. Shaking her head, she said, "Not knowing what's going to come through those doors next. Having to be ready for any, and every, thing. Most doctors would never say this, but I think you've got one of the hardest jobs in medicine. You've definitely got my respect."

"Thanks," Susan replied with a smile.

"Anyway, almost a year after graduation, I ran into Mark in the cafeteria downstairs. We had lunch, compared notes on our first year as residents. I remember he told me he'd been supervising a few med students. I was impressed. Not many interns get students."

"He's always been an over-achiever," Susan commented with a grin..

"Yeah," Emily laughed, "he said the first few students had been compete duds, but he thought he'd finally gotten a good one. I remember he told me she was a third-year med student who was planning to go into family practice. He said he had three months to convince her she would be wasting her time diagnosing sore throats and ear infections. That was you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Susan nodded. Laughing, she said, "I haven't thought about that in ages, but yeah, I guess he's a big part of the reason I ended up in the ER. So, what else have you heard about me?"

"I guess the other thing was last winter."

"When I moved to Phoenix?" Susan suggested.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I heard some of the nurses up here talking, and they said that if you had to go down to the ER, be sure to avoid Mark Greene. Apparently, he turned into a complete and total bear after you left. I heard he was even worse than Weaver," she grinned.

"Unfortunately, from what I've heard, that's all true," Susan admitted.

"I was surprised when I heard you came back last month. I was even more surprised to hear that you and Mark were an item. But I think it's fantastic. He's a great guy."

"He is," Susan agreed. "Just don't ask me how we finally managed to get together. I haven't even figured that one out."

Emily smiled, but quickly became serious. "I could sit here all day and tell you stories about Mark in med school, and maybe we can do that sometime, but that's not why you're here, is it?"

"No, it's not," Susan said with a sigh.

"Why don't you tell me what's going on?" Emily suggested as she sat down on a stool next to the exam table.

"I was doing a self-exam in the shower last night, I usually wait about a week after my period, and I found something in my left breast," she explained.

Emily made a few notes on the chart before asking, "You didn't notice it last month?"

"If it was there, if I noticed it, I can't believe I wouldn't have looked into it. So, I'd have to say that I don't think it was there last month, but I've been going over it so much, that I really can't say for sure anymore."

Emily nodded, she'd seen this before. "You found this last night, and you're in here today. I think it's safe to assume that you're right. You didn't feel this last month. Finding something like this isn't exactly easy to forget, either. Is there any history of breast cancer in your family?"

"Yeah," Susan nodded, "two of my aunts, both on my mother's side, died of breast cancer in their thirties. I think one was thirty-nine, the other was thirty-seven. That was at least twenty years ago."

"Has your mother ever had any problems?"

"Not that I know of," she replied.

"Any sisters?"

"One, she's three years older than I am. She's never had any problems."

"You're thirty-three, right?" Emily asked, glancing at the chart.

"Yeah," Susan nodded.

"For women under thirty-five, a lot of doctors suggest that you just wait six-months, come back and have it looked at again then. That's one of the stupidest, and possibly deadliest, ideas I've ever heard. I don't care how old a woman is, if there is something there, then there is a possibility that it could be cancer. Waiting six months could be the difference between treating Stage One, with a five-year survival rate of eighty-five percent, and treating Stage Four, where the five-year survival rate is closer to ten percent. I'm not trying to say this to scare you. I just want you to know that I don't think this is something that should be messed with. We need to know what this is. Now."

"That's fine by me," Susan admitted.

"Great," Emily said with a smile. "Is it okay if I do an exam now?"

"Sure," Susan said as she laid back on the table.

She examined the right breast first and commented, "That feels fine."

Moving to the other side of the table, she began to examine the left breast. Susan watched her face carefully. "Do you feel it?" she asked.

Emily nodded. "Yeah, it's there. It feels like it's pretty hard."

"That suggests a tumor, not a cyst, doesn't it?" Susan asked somewhat apprehensively.

"More than likely," Emily admitted. As she finished, she said, "Okay, you can sit up now."

Drawing in a deep breath, Susan asked, "So, what next?"

"We need to do a mammogram, then an ultrasound, just so we know what we're dealing with. After that, I'll do a needle biopsy today. Hopefully, we'll get conclusive results from that. If not, we can schedule an excisional biopsy for tomorrow. It's a relatively simple, out-patient procedure. It's over in a couple hours," she explained.

"I'll have a nurse come back and get you ready for the mammogram and the ultrasound. It may be a little while, though. I can send Mark back, if you'd like," Emily suggested as she stood at the door.

Susan considered this for a moment. "That's okay. I think I just need a little time to get used to this myself. Could you just let him know what's going on, though?"

"Sure," Emily nodded. "And Susan?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to get through this."

She gave a weak smile. Although she wasn't convinced of that herself, at least not yet, she just said, "Thanks."

She wrapped her arms around her chest and let out a slow, deep breath. In a sense, even thought she'd tried to prepare herself for the worst, she'd still hoped that it was just a cyst, which could be drained without a problem and she'd laugh with Mark about how she overreacted. But she wasn't overreacting. This was serious. It was a tumor, which meant the chances of a malignancy were much higher.

TO BE CONTINUED...

I'd love to know what you think. Please send all feedback to SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com

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