The Hardest Goodbye
By: Lori (SixteenOzs)

DISCLAIMER: "ER," the characters and situations depicted within are the property of Warner Bros. 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 making no profit.

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

Feedback is welcome. Please send all questions, comments or criticisms to SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com

SUMMARY: As Mark faces a personal crisis, Elizabeth struggles to prevent him from shutting her out of his life.

BACKGROUND: This story begins after the sixth season episode "Be Patient," and it INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR "BE PATIENT."

WARNING: This segment involves a character's death and may be upsetting to some readers.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: I would like to take this opportunity to thank Trigg for being a great sounding board for ideas on this story, and for endlessly looking over samples of what I'd written. Thank you so much!

PART II, May 2000

Elizabeth's brow creased as she walked down the hall of the ER and saw Mark come out of Exam Two, then start towards the admit desk. What she found strange was that he was wearing khakis and a polo shirt. Normally, while he was at work, he always had on scrubs or a lab coat. Covering the distance between them, she said, "Mark? What are you doing here? I thought you were off over an hour ago."

He turned to face her. "I was," he nodded. "I, um, I just came back with Dad."

She searched his eyes, and they both knew that his father wouldn't be going home. "Mark, I'm so sorry," she said softly.

"It's not like I didn't know this was coming, right?" he said, trying to force a smile, and failing miserably.

"But that doesn't make it any easier," she pointed out. "How is he?"

"He's on oxygen to help his breathing and morphine for the pain. Kerry's handling it." With a weak smile, he admitted, "I think she was surprised I didn't put up fight, that I didn't try to do it myself. The thing is, I don't even think I wanted to."

"That's probably for the best," she commented, "you're too close. It wouldn't be good for either of you."

He laughed ruefully. "When I got home, he was having trouble breathing and said it felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. I told him we should come here, put him on oxygen and give him something for the pain. It took me at least thirty minutes to convince him to come. He was afraid I'd challenge his DNR. I told him, as a doctor, I couldn't."

"What about as his son?" she asked carefully. She knew that, as doctors, they were supposed to do all they could to follow their patients' wishes. But this wasn't his patient.

He sighed heavily and stared at the floor for a moment. Finally looking back to her, he conceded, "I could. But I won't. The part of me that's still rationally thinking like a doctor knows it wouldn't do any good. A few extra days, a week at most. He'd be unconscious, probably on a vent, until his heart gave out. What's the point?"

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked in a caring tone.

"Not really," he said, shaking his head. His voice faltered slightly as he added, "All that's really left to do now is man the 'death watch.'"

She checked her watch. "I'm on for another hour. I need to head back upstairs and do rounds, then finish up a little paperwork. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay," he nodded.

"Page me if you need me," she reminded him as she took a step closer and wrapped her arms around him.

"I will," he whispered into her hair.

Elizabeth was walking into Exam Two forty-five minutes later. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hi," he said, looking up from his chair, next to the bed where his father was sleeping.

"How are you doing?" she asked carefully as she pulled up a chair and sat down next to him.

"Hanging in," he said weakly.

"You look tired," she commented. "I think Exam Four is open. Why don't you go in there and crash for a while? I'll come get you if there's any change."

"Nah," he shrugged. "I'll just stay here. It's not like I could sleep anyway."

She smiled sympathetically.

"You don't have to stay here," he said quietly. "You can go home, I'll call you."

"I know I don't have to stay. I want to," she said simply.

"Thanks."

Sensing movement around her, Elizabeth awoke from the chair where she was dosing. Noticing Mark moving towards the door, she murmured, "What's going on?"

"I'm going to find Kerry, to see if she can give him something else for the pain," he explained.

"Okay," she nodded as she sat up. Glancing at her watch, she realized that it was almost one in the morning.

Looking to the bed, she was more than a little surprised to see David awake. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

He removed the oxygen mask and hoarsely said, "My chest hurts."

She nodded, "Mark's gone to get Dr. Weaver."

"You don't have to be here, but thank you," he said weakly.

"Mark told me the same thing," she said with a smile. "You should keep the mask on. It will help you breathe."

"I'm dying, Elizabeth. We both know that. Let me talk while I have the chance," he said seriously.

"Okay," she relented. Grinning, she added, "As long as you're going to explain that to your son when he gets back in here."

David started to laugh but ended up coughing instead. Elizabeth stood up and held the mask to his face until he regained his breath. "Are you okay?" she asked in a concerned tone.

He nodded. "I know we haven't known each other that long, but it's been a pleasure."

She smiled gently. "Yes, it has."

"Can I ask you a favor?" he asked after a moment.

"Of course," she nodded.

"Look after, Mark," he said quietly. "Don't let him shut everyone out."

"I'll look after him," she promised. "One thing I don't think he's counting on is that I'm just as stubborn as he is."

"I bet you are," David grinned. He held the mask to his face for a few moments before he said, "He's in love with you, whether he realizes it yet or not. Don't let him forget that, either."

Elizabeth wasn't exactly sure how she should respond to that. Luckily, Mark and Kerry entered the room, so she didn't have to.

David was still awake when Kerry left. Deciding to give Mark some time alone with his father, Elizabeth said, "I'm going over to Doc's to get something to eat. Can I get you anything?"

"Just coffee," Mark replied as he sat down.

"Okay," she nodded. "I won't be gone long."

"Thanks," he smiled before she left.

After a moment, David said, "She's nice."

Mark looked at his father and agreed, "Yeah, she is."

"You two have something special," David pointed out. "Don't lose sight of that."

"I won't," he promised.

They were both quiet for several moments, until David finally said, "I know you may not think so, but I am proud of you. Of what you do here at the hospital, of what you've done with your life."

Mark couldn't deny the sting of tears he felt in his eyes. Not completely trusting his voice, he whispered, "I know. Thank you."

David smiled weakly. "I love you, Mark."

"I love you, too," Mark said, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he suggested, "You should get some rest."

David nodded as he replaced the oxygen mask and closed his eyes.

Mark sighed heavily as he watched his father. He was still sitting there when Elizabeth came back some time later.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he replied, looking towards her. "Did you get something to eat?"

"Yeah," she nodded. Handing him a steaming cup of coffee and a carryout bag from Doc's, she said, "I brought something back for you."

"Thanks, but I just wanted coffee," he replied.

"You need to eat," she said firmly.

He looked at her and laughed slightly. "You're sounding very maternal."

She chuckled. "I suppose my mother rubbed off on me while she was here."

"What do you mean?" he wondered.

"The morning after, um, after Lucy died. I went home, and all I wanted to do was take a shower and curl up in bed. She prepared breakfast for me, and she wouldn't rest until I ate at least half of it," she said with a weak smile. "I got you a turkey sandwich, so I'll make the same deal with you. You have to eat at least half."

"Thank you," he said quietly as he started to unwrap the sandwich.

"You're welcome," she smiled. She did a quick survey of the monitors in the room, then asked, "How's he doing?"

"We talked for a little while, then he got pretty tired," he explained.

"How about you?" she asked, the concern evident in her voice. "How are you holding up?"

He looked at her as he tried to find a way to answer her question, but the words just wouldn't come.

As she watched him, she could see the pain, the fear, the uncertainty and the helplessness in his eyes. She wanted to make this easier for him, to take some of that away, but she knew only time could do that. She sat down in the chair next to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

The sun was just starting to peak through the exam room window the next morning. Mark was awake, not that he'd ever been to sleep. Elizabeth was sleeping in the chair next to him, looking more than a little uncomfortable. He'd tried to convince her to find an empty exam room, but she said as long as he was staying with his father, so was she.

He noticed that the ER seemed unusually quiet this morning. From where he was sitting, he could only hear his father's rasped breaths and the rhythmic pulses of the heart monitor. As he sat there, he wasn't even thinking of anything in particular, just sort of letting his mind wonder. Some time later, his head shot up as the tones of the monitor changed.

His breath caught in his throat for a moment before he called, "Elizabeth?"

"Yeah?" she asked groggily as she woke up.

"Can you get Kerry?" he asked, the anxiety evident in his voice.

She sat up, suddenly becoming fully alert. "What's going on?"

"He's throwing PVCs," he answered quietly, his eyes never leaving his father.

"Okay," she nodded quickly before getting up to leave the room. Walking out of the exam room, she was relived to see Kerry a few yards down the hall.

"Kerry?" she called as she jogged the short distance between them. "We need you in here."

"What's going on?" Kerry wondered.

"David's throwing PVCs," Elizabeth explained.

Kerry sighed as they started back towards Exam Two. "DNR?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded. "Mark said he wouldn't challenge it. He knows it wouldn't do any good. I think he just wants you there to call it."

"Okay," Kerry nodded as they entered the room.

Mark's gaze strayed briefly from the heart monitor to them, and then back, as he held his father's hand. Elizabeth returned to her seat next to him and placed a reassuring hand on his thigh.

As he stared at the monitor, he quietly whispered, "V-tach."

She watched him and she wasn't even sure he realized he was speaking aloud.

"V-fib."

He blinked back the tears as he felt his father's hand clinch around his, then release. Almost inaudibly, he said, "Asystole."

Kerry reached over and turned off the volume of the heart monitor. After a moment, she quietly said, "Time of death: six-twenty-eight."

Carefully, Kerry removed the oxygen mask and turned off the other monitors. To Elizabeth, she said, "Just find me when you're done."

Elizabeth nodded as she watched Kerry leave the room. Then, she turned her attention back to Mark.

Slowly, he let go of his father's hand and sat back in his chair, sighing heavily.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He shook his head as he stared straight ahead. "I don't know," he answered honestly.

She gently rubbed his back and moved so that her cheek was resting against his shoulder. "Do you want to be alone?"

He considered this for a moment. "Not right now."

"Okay," she nodded. She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. She knew he was just trying to let everything sink in, but she also had to admit that it shook her a bit to see him so quiet, so quiescent.

Finally, he asked, "Can you give me a few minutes?"

"Of course," she said as she stood up. "I'll be at the desk or in the lounge."

He nodded as she left. He drew in a deep breath as he tried to make sense of all the thoughts that were running through his head. He couldn't stop thinking about all of the time they'd lost, they'd wasted, largely because of the assumption he'd made. Assumptions that turned out to be wrong. He tried to focus on the fact that they'd been able to spend the last few months together. They were finally able to see each other for what was really there, not the ideals or the misconceptions. He knew his father was no longer in pain, and for that, he had to be grateful. He just couldn't stop thinking about how unfair it seemed, now that they were just starting to get close.

He sighed, then smiled slightly. "Tell Mom I said, 'Hi.' I love you both."

He stood up, then leaned over and kissed his father on the forehead. Softly, he whispered, "Goodbye, Dad."

He removed his glasses and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He drew in a deep breath as he replaced his glassed and looked at his father for a long moment. Finally, he turned and walked out of the exam room.

Elizabeth was standing at the admit desk, talking with Kerry, as he approached. Turning to him, she asked, "How are you?"

"Numb," he answered weakly.

"Mark, I'm sorry," Kerry said sincerely.

"Thank you," Mark nodded.

"Are you ready to go home?" Elizabeth asked.

He shook his head. "No, I, um, I need to take care of the paperwork and make some calls. Rachel, the funeral home here, and in San Diego, the travel agent. I want to get those over with."

"Okay," she nodded understandingly. "If you want, you can use my office. You'll have a little more privacy."

"That's okay, I'll just take care of it down here," he shrugged.

"How long are you going to be off?" she wondered.

He considered this. The funeral would probably be in two days, and he'd need at least a week to clear up everything in San Diego. "Probably a week and a half, maybe two weeks. Why?"

"I was just going to go upstairs and tell Romano I need the time off," she explained.

He smiled weakly. "Thanks, but you don't have to come with me."

"I'm not going to let you go through this alone," she said firmly, indicating that she wasn't going to debate the subject.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"You're welcome," she smiled.

"I'll be in the lounge."

"I'll meet you there, after I talk to Romano," Elizabeth said before she started towards the elevator.

Elizabeth walked into the lounge about twenty minutes later and sighed softly. He was seated with his elbows propped on his knees, his face resting in his palms.

"Hi," she said as she pulled a chair closer to the desk and sat down.

"Hi," he said as he looked up and put on his glasses. "I just got off the phone with Rachel."

"How'd that go?" she wondered.

With a wary smile, he said, "I think it was harder on me than it was on her."

"Probably," she agreed. "Do you want me to make any calls for you, the travel agent or something?"

"No," he shook his head. "I think I've got it."

"Just let me know," she reminded him.

"I will." Smiling slightly, he said, "Thank you for being here."

She smiled. "I already told you, you don't need to thank me for this."

Dave Malucci stepped into the lounge and said, "Dr. Greene, we've got victims from a drive-by pulling up. We need you to help out."

Without looking in his direction, Mark said, "I'm not on. Get someone else."

"They'll be here in five minutes. See ya at the back door," Malucci said.

"Malucci, I'm not on!" Mark repeated, the irritation coming through in his voice. But Malucci had already left the lounge.

Elizabeth gently placed a hand on his should as she stood up. "I'll take care of it."

He gave her a grateful look before she left the lounge.

Catching up with Malucci, Elizabeth angrily asked, "Malucci, what part of 'I'm not on' do you not comprehend?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked with an expression that was a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"Mar--," she started, then stopped and corrected herself, "Dr. Greene, just told you he was not on, and that you needed to find someone else to handle that trauma. What part of that did you not understand?"

"We've got a trauma coming in, and need help. He's a doctor. He's here. What's the problem?" Malucci tried to argue.

"He's not a doctor right now. He's a son whose father died in this Emergency Room less than an hour ago. I think we can both agree that he should NOT be in a trauma situation at this particular moment," she said, practically spitting out the words.

"I, uh, I-I didn't know," Malucci stammered.

"Well, next time, find out," she said bitterly. "And for now, why don't you find someone else to help with the trauma?"

Before he could reply, Elizabeth turned and walked back towards the lounge. She stopped outside the door and drew in a deep breath, trying to calm down before going back inside.

Mark looked up as she walked in. "What happened?" he wondered.

"I took care of it," she said as she returned to the chair next to the desk.

"You 'took care of it?'" he questioned with a slightly amused expression. "You sound like you're working for the mob."

She laughed. "Malucci's going to find someone else. You don't have to worry about it."

He nodded. "Thanks."

"Glad I could help," she smiled.

He sighed. "I just got off the phone with the funeral home here, now I just need to call San Diego and let them know. There's really not much for me to do. Dad had everything planned."

"He knew this would be hard on you," she said softly. "He didn't want to make it any worse by forcing you to make the arrangements."

"I know," he nodded. He took a slow, deep breath, then picked up the phone again.

A little more than half an hour later, he sat back in his chair and looked over the notes he'd made on the legal pad in front of him. "We're leaving out of O'Hare tomorrow morning, stopping in Saint Louis to pick up Rachel, then arriving in San Diego tomorrow evening. The travel agent is going to arrange for a rental car and a suite at a hotel, since the water and electricity at the house have been turned off. There will be a viewing Wednesday night, then the funeral on Thursday. Rachel's going to fly back to Saint Louis on Friday, and our flight back here is the following Friday." He stopped and sighed. "Anything else?"

She smiled. "I think that pretty much covers it for now."

He nodded. "Guess I just need to fill out and sign all of the release paperwork."

"I think Kerry's got it at the desk," she pointed out. "Do you want me to go get it?"

"That's okay. I'll just go out and take care of it," he said as he tore off the top sheet of the legal pad and stood up.

She followed him out of the lounge, and waited patiently as he stood at the desk an started going through the forms.

As he stared blankly down at the papers, he couldn't help but think about how surreal the entire situation felt. He'd lost track of the number of times he'd handed these same documents to grieving family members. This time, however, he was on the other end. He was the one receiving the forms to fill out, and he wasn't quite sure how to react.

As Malucci approached the admit desk, he said, "Hey, Randi, what's up with that dead guy in Exam Two? Get someone from transpo down here. We need the room."

Mark's head snapped up as he looked at Malucci, and Elizabeth immediately turned in Mark's direction. For a moment, it looked almost as if someone had slapped him. Feeling her ire build, she started to say, "Malu-"

She stopped as she felt Mark's hand on her arm. "It's not worth it," he said quietly. "Just let it go."

"But, Mark," she tried to argue, "there was no excuse for that."

"Maybe not," he agreed after a moment, "but it's not like I haven't said the same thing a hundred times before. Please, just let it go. I don't want to get into this now."

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. She made a mental note to speak to Kerry about Malucci's attitude before she left the hospital. She wouldn't confront him now, because she knew Mark didn't want a scene, but she wasn't willing to let this go so easily.

"Thank you," he said quietly, before turning his attention back to the forms.

She stepped a little closer to him and gently began to rub his back. With her chin near his shoulder, she softly asked, "Anything I can do?"

He glanced in her direction and smiled weakly. "Not right now, but thanks."

"Sure," she nodded as she remained next to him. After a moment, she said, "I'm going to run upstairs and check on a few things. I shouldn't be too long."

"Okay," he nodded.

Half an hour later, Mark sighed heavily as Elizabeth walked back to the admit desk.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah," he nodded as he picked up his things.

"Did you drive?" she wondered.

"Yeah, I'm parked in the garage. Dad didn't want the paramedics bringing him in," he explained.

"Give me your keys," she requested, holding out her hand.

"What?" he questioned suspiciously.

"Give me your keys," she repeated. "You're in no shape to be driving right now. You didn't get any sleep last night, and your father just passed away. Let me drive."

He smiled reluctantly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Handing them to her, he said, "What about your car?"

"I came in on the El yesterday," she replied.

"Okay," he nodded. After a few moments, he hesitantly asked, "Is it okay if we go back to your place? I really don't want to face my apartment right now." He knew all of his father's things were still at his apartment. He wasn't ready to deal with that.

"Sure," she nodded understandingly.

"I know I'll have to go back later today to pack for San Diego, just not now," he said quietly.

"That's fine," she assured him.

Elizabeth tossed the newspaper and both her keys and Mark's on the table next to the door as they entered her apartment. Turning to Mark, she suggested, "Why don't you go take a shower? I'll make breakfast, then we can try to get some sleep."

"Do I smell that bad?" he asked with a weak smile.

"No," she laughed. Stepping behind him, she gently began to massage the muscles in his neck and shoulders. "It's just that since your this tense, I thought I'd have a little more luck loosening these muscles if you took a shower first."

He turned around and slipped his arms around her, pulling her closer without saying a word. She wrapped her arms around his back and softly whispered, "You're going to make it through this, Mark. I promise."

After a few moments, he nodded as he rested his cheek against her hair. "It just doesn't feel like it right now."

"I know," she said quietly.

They stayed in each other's arms for several minutes, until he finally pulled back. "I guess I'll go take that shower now."

"Okay," she nodded.

Elizabeth had changed into a tank top and pajama bottoms when Mark came out of the bathroom half an hour later. "Felling any better?" she wondered.

"Maybe a little," he shrugged as he walked over to the coffee pot and opened the cabinet, searching for a filter and the coffee.

"No, you don't," she admonished as she turned down the flame on the stove so the eggs wouldn't burn. "You've had enough coffee in the last twenty-four hours to last a lifetime."

He glared at her for a moment, then a smile spread across his face, almost reluctantly. As he closed the cabinet door and went to the refrigerator in search of juice instead, he commented, "Your mother really did rub off on you."

"Just don't tell her that!" she laughed. After a moment, she seriously said, "I called her while you were in the shower."

"Really?" he questioned as he turned to look at her.

"Yeah," she nodded. "She's going to try to get a flight out of London tomorrow morning, then meet us at the hotel in San Diego. And before you say anything, she knows she doesn't have to come. She wants to. She cared a lot about your father, and she knows how much I care about you."

He smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

She smiled understandingly. After a moment, she asked, "While you're in the refrigerator, would you mind getting the jam for the toast?"

"Okay," he nodded. After a few moments of searching, he found the jam near the back of the second shelf. He took it out and set it on the counter, then got two glasses from the cabinet and poured them each a glass of orange juice. Once he replaced the carafe in the refrigerator, he picked up his glass, turned around and leaned against the counter as he took a small sip.

Looking at him carefully, she asked, "How are you doing?"

His immediate instinct was to say, 'Fine,' but as he looked up and his eyes met hers, his voice faltered.

Saving him from having to answer, she stepped closer to him and rested one hand on his back as she reached around him and got the plates out of the cabinet. "Want to sit the table?" she wondered.

"Sure," he nodded with a relieved look.

She placed the eggs and toast on the plates, then carried them to the table. She took a seat across from him, and watched him push the food around on his plate for about five minutes. Finally, she grinned and said, "Same deal as last night."

He looked up at her and smiled guiltily. "At least half?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

Half-heartedly, he began taking small bites. When she finished, she stood up and took her plate and glass into the kitchen. From the sink, she called, "Would you like anything else? More juice?"

"No, I'm fine," he said. He stood up and carried his dishes into the kitchen. With a grin, he asked "Did I clean my plate to your satisfaction?"

He'd eaten a little more than half of what she'd put on his plate. Taking it from him, she scraped the leftovers into the garbage disposal. Smiling, she said, "I guess."

After they'd cleaned the kitchen, she turned to him and asked, "So, ready for that massage I promised?"

"Yeah," he said weakly as he slipped his arm around her and they walked back to the bedroom.

He sighed heavily as he took off his glasses and stretched out on the bed. She climbed onto the bed next to him and slowly began to knead the tense muscles in his back and shoulders.

As he was lying there, suddenly, it all began to hit him. On some level, even though he wasn't working, the entire time he'd been at the hospital the night before, he'd been looking at things like a doctor. He'd been doing that for so long, it was instinct by now. He didn't even give it a second thought.

But last night, he hadn't been a doctor. He was a son who watched his father die. The man he'd admired, looked up to and wanted to be just like when he was a kid. He tried to figure out when all of that changed, but he couldn't remember. And now, there was no way to get it back.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold back the tears, but it was too much. He couldn't hold it in any longer. "He's gone," he whispered, almost as if he was still trying to convince himself that it was true.

Elizabeth reached for the comforter and pulled it over both of them as she stretched out beside him. She wrapped her arms around him as the sobs shook through his body. Softly, she said, "I'm right here, Mark. We're going to get through this."

Later that afternoon, Elizabeth stretched slightly as she woke up. Opening her eyes she looked in Mark's direction, and was a little surprised to find him already awake. With a gentle smile, she said, "Hi."

"Hi," he replied.

"How long have you been up?" she wondered.

"Couple hours," he shrugged.

She turned and looked over her shoulder at the clock, then back to him. "It's only been about six hours since we came back here," she pointed out.

He sighed. "I slept for a while, then I just woke up."

"You stayed in here?" she questioned.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I wanted to be near you."

She smiled. After a moment, her smile faded and she asked, "How are you doing?"

He sighed heavily, and didn't respond immediately. Finally, he quietly commented, "I just keep thinking about all the time I wasted, all of the things I wish I had told him, all of the things I should have done differently." As a few tears traced their way down his face, he added, "I'll go back to work in a couple weeks, but no matter what I do, no matter how many lives I save; I can't bring him back. I know it's crazy, but I can't help feeling like I let him down."

"You didn't let him down," she assured him firmly. "He was proud of you, Mark. I could tell from the way he traded stories with my mother, the way he talked about you."

"I know," he nodded, "he, um, he told that last night."

"There was nothing that you could have done," she gently pointed out.

After a few moments, he admitted, "As a doctor, I know that. But as his son, well..."

TO BE CONTINUED...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've written Mark and Susan fics before, but this is the first Mark and Elizabeth fic I've posted. I'd really love to know what you think of it, good or bad. Please e-mail me at SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com Thanks for reading!

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