Yet again, I own nothing.

Chapter One

Sitting in the dark PICU, Elizabeth felt exhausted both mentally and physically. It had been a long and horrific day, and she'd been almost too ill to stand at some points. But if she was being honest with herself, Elizabeth knew that's she had been exhausted for quite a while now, and it wasn't just the sort of exhaustion that came from being a new mother. No, pregnancy and motherhood had just given her an excuse to ignore the underlying symptoms and misdiagnose the real issue at hand. Everything had all been a mistake.

There was excitement the first time Elizabeth had stepped into the house Mark had picked for them, the excitement that her boyfriend was actually going to start living like an adult, and like most people, when presented with a shiny, new gift, she happily took it. Even if the gift of a house and a ring was presented on the same day that she had been contemplating breaking up with her boyfriend of fewer than two years. But shiny gifts meant to dazzle and sweep things under the rug can go a long way. Elizabeth had hoped that Mark was making a rather large shift in his life because he wanted them to be happy together. That they were going to work on all the things that had been driving her crazy. Instead, the house and the ring had turned out to be a veneer, a beautiful veneer, but a veneer nonetheless.

The first time Elizabeth had started to notice that the house and subsequent engagement were just a veneer was shortly after they got engaged. A weekend away that had gone horribly wrong. Mark had been picking at her all day to make sure she was off in time to miss the traffic, and it hadn't sat well with her. The getaway had been Mark's idea; he probably sensed that the initial happiness of a new house and pretty ring were wearing off, and Elizabeth was always happy to get out of Chicago for the weekend. She had let herself be rushed in surgery, and instead of enjoying a lovely weekend, Elizabeth spent most of her time soaking in the large tub with a bottle of wine, trying to determine how she had ended up in this situation. Elizabeth had paralyzed a man, and for some reason, Mark was oblivious to how that sat with her. He seemed more irritated that Romano had called at all.

Elizabeth had managed to convince Mark to leave early so she could go back and try to do something, and that had revealed a new side to him. The side that was tired of her job, its responsibilities, and her proximity to Romano. Mark had never once stopped complaining about her working with him, long past the point where Elizabeth herself ceased to have issues with the man. Mark's general resentment towards her job had left her seriously contemplating ending things. When she opened the front door one morning to be served in a lawsuit, Elizabeth thought she had been handed a sign telling her to run away, far away, and never return. But no. She had gone and gotten herself knocked up.

In the dim lights of the PICU, Elizabeth finally allowed herself to acknowledge what she had been ignoring for over a year. If Mark had asked her to intentionally go off birth control so they could get pregnant, she would have said no and ended the relationship. Left to face her helpless child, all Elizabeth could do was face the fact that she had born a child with a man she had wanted to leave and had for once in her life been too afraid to stand up for herself. She had been through so much with Mark that it created a false sense of intimacy. While there was love, she was decidedly not in love with him and had always been too afraid to ask what the difference was. Elizabeth had also been too scared to tell a man she believed to be dying that she wouldn't keep his unborn child. Who does that? Who stands up and says I don't want to lead a life with you or have a child with you when your fiancé comes home with a brain tumor.

Tiny Ella, bearing the brunt of her mother's ill-advised decisions, lay there suffering the greatest from them. As much as Elizabeth regretted becoming a parent with Mark, she could see no way she did not keep Ella after discovering her. But never before had she identified so intensely with her own mother, Isabelle, who took off to Spain to be pampered in a spa after giving birth. Elizabeth had wanted the name of that spa.

Mark had been oblivious once Ella had been born. Oblivious to how miserable Elizabeth had been, to her detachment from their home life, her extreme ache to be back in the OR and have a career, to needing to feel like a person for five minutes, and most of all, her lack of attachment to their daughter. Looking back, Elizabeth suspected postpartum depression had been setting in, and Mark hadn't even noticed. He got to escape to work every day and never took days off past the initial first week home. He'd left her without any help. Help, however, had come in time and from an unexpected direction.

The gift basket had been unexpected. Some poor courier had been made to carry a hamper almost as large as himself to her front door one afternoon. Delighted to see anyone other than her baby and husband, Elizabeth was ecstatic to find it was a gift delivery. The hamper was filled to the brim with fudge, herbal teas, crumpets, and all sorts of little nibbles from the UK. Elizabeth was halfway through a box of jelly babies when she discovered the card. Considering the hamper had been packed full of her favorite nibbles, she had assumed that Mark had done something sweet and thoughtful for once. The handwriting, while familiar, wasn't Mark's, however; it was Robert's. Her out-of-control hormones couldn't cope, and Elizabeth ended up crying into her snacks as she ate them, which was how Mark found her upon arriving home. He then had the nerve to ask her what a Tunnock's Teacake was.

Elizabeth had never told Mark who sent the basket, nor had she told him about the time Robert had shown up one Saturday whilst Mark was at work to make her lunch. It had been the first adult conversation she had had since giving birth, and Elizabeth had been grateful for it. Robert had cooked, done the dishes, and watched Ella long enough for Elizabeth to enjoy a long bath. Mark had come home none the wiser and just been thankful for the change in her mood. Mark would have been about as happy if it had been Kerry Weaver in their home. More recently, Robert had shown up again on a Saturday when Mark was working. Elizabeth's maternity leave had ended recently, and she had been struggling at work to the point that breast milk had leaked in the OR. Robert had shown up an hour after Mark had left and presented her with a spa brochure. A two-hour spa day bought and paid for as long as she was okay with letting him babysit for a few hours. She had been halfway out the door the moment he said spa. "Please take care of yourself, Lizzie" was all Robert had asked of her in return.

It had been the one and only moment of rest since going back to work, the constant argument of needing more nanny help, the investigation into post OP deaths, and Mark completely ignoring the fact that she lived in their house and thus had an opinion and say in who else lived there. Elizabeth had been drowning, and having Rachael around had felt like her husband was holding her head underwater.

And now, here they were. Their daughter in the PICU, Mark running around taking shifts and coddling Rachell, and Elizabeth regretting that things ever got this far. And it wasn't just Mark being absent to go to work; it was being absent to go to work with her. Susan Lewis.

Mark had been vague about his friend for weeks, opting to make phone calls when he thought Elizabeth wasn't paying attention, dodging her questions about who he was talking to. When Elizabeth had finally gotten a name out of him, she had been shocked to find out it was a woman. The phone bill had confirmed that it wasn't just short 'hope you're doing well with the baby' calls either. At all hours of the night, Mark had been calling a number listed in Scottsdale, Arizona, and hiding it from her. When the woman herself finally manifested in the ER one day eagerly looking for Mark, guilt was written all over his face; he couldn't make eye contact with his own wife, and yet, Elizabeth could plainly see how he lit up when looking at Lewis. That never changed. Mark would come home from work and either complain about Kerry or poetically wax on about Susan, oblivious to the fact that he was blatantly in love with a woman who wasn't his wife. Or maybe he knew how obvious it was and just couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. It made Elizabeth feel bad for the ex she left behind in England, Jeremy, the dermatologist who got tired of hearing about all the brilliant things that Rocket Romano did at work. A man never far from her mind, even when she was cross with him.

A heavy sigh came from Elizabeth as she tried to rouse herself from her morose state. She needed to eat something or freshen up and don a clean pair of scrubs at the bare minimum. The time it would take for her to change clothes would be a welcome break from the vigil she had been holding in an attempt to alleviate the guilt she felt over having been a checked-out mother. It would also give Elizabeth time to contemplate her husband. Mark had disappeared after Ella had been extubated, refusing to acknowledge that his precious Rachell had done anything wrong, yet again making Elizabeth and her own feelings play second fiddle to a petulant out-of-control teenager.

Elizabeth pulled herself away from the PICU and headed towards the elevators, intent on heading up to surgery for a fresh pair of scrubs. When the elevator doors opened, Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at the sight in front of her. Barefoot and in a dressing gown that wasn't tied shut stood Robert Romano. Her sleep-deprived mind was operating on fumes, and instead of uttering anything close to intelligent speech, all Elizabeth could do was ogle his bare chest and speedo.

"Lizzie!" It came out a tad higher than he intended as he tried to decipher the look she was giving him. She looked tired, and he couldn't tell if the look was was from exhaustion or something else, but she had yet to make eye contact staring only at this chest. "Are you just here to ogle me, or are you getting in the elevator?"

Blushing, she stepped in, averting her eyes as Robert tied his robe shut.

"Care to explain your rather. . . unusual attire?"

"Polar Bear Club, a guy had a heart attack mid-swim. I just need a pair of scrubs to leave in, and I'll be able to get a cab to pick me up and take me back to my car." He gave her another look, she was so tired, and Robert couldn't remember seeing her that beaten down before. There was also the telltale sign of Lizzie holding back a laugh at him, a look he was very familiar with. "Hey! Don't laugh!"

"Trust me, Robert, I'm not laughing." The elevator doors pinged open before he could question her, and he stepped out into a thankfully deserted hallway.

"Scrubs for you as well, I guess?" They were both headed towards the locker rooms, and it was an easy assumption on his end.

"Yes, then find food somewhere. I'm famished. Thanks for the food last night, by the way."

"Not a problem. Do you want me to go get you something again, so you don't have to leave?" They stopped short of their respective locker room doors, and a small look of relief washed over her face that was replaced rather quickly with a smirk.

"I didn't realize that speedos had room for wallets, or are you just happy to see me?"

Robert turned red at her unexpected comment. So she had been checking him out earlier. Even knowing that it was decidedly the wrong time to flirt with Lizzie, Robert couldn't help himself.

"You got your free glance, anything after that, and you've got to buy me a drink first." The musical sound of her laughter rewarded his ears as she pushed open the door to the lockers and disappeared in. It took him a moment to get moving again, but he managed to throw on a clean pair of scrubs and lab coat before Lizzie had reappeared. A short trip to his office and he pulled out the stash of emergency cash he kept on hand, enough for food and a cab, and stuffed it into his white lab coat. Looking far more respectable than when he arrived, Robert headed back towards the locker rooms, pleased to see he had timed it right as the door swung open to reveal Lizzie looking a little more human.

"I've got cash if you want to head back to the PICU, and I'll order something from there?"

"Thank you, Robert."

The short trip to the PICU was made in silence, and it was clear to Robert that the closer they got to the ward, the more morose Elizabeth became. He hung back as she checked in with the desk, asking after the EEG and becoming agitated when the response was negative. Robert knew from experience that an angry Lizzie needed space, and he watched as she picked up the phone and started to throw her weight around to get a neurologist involved. Turning to look into the PICU, he was shocked to see a figure peering into Ella's bed. He'd never met her in person, but Robert knew from pictures that it was Rachel. How the hell she had gotten into the PICU Robert didn't know, she should be somewhere talking to the cops, not feeding Ella. Catching Lizzie's attention, she hung up the phone and looked at him.

"Robert, what is it?"

"Elizabeth, how have the cops not picked her up?"

"What?" Turning and looking through the window, Elizabeth saw her stepdaughter. All her resentment towards her husband came back, and for once, she did not try to hold it back. "Mark didn't file the H5122 with the chart. He claimed that it wasn't his place to report the illegal drugs because he wasn't the Attending. Protecting Rachell seems to be far more important to him than Ella."

Elizabeth took off into the ward, and Robert followed, unsure how Lizzie would react upon reaching the teenager. Robert stood and listened to the pathetic attempt at an excuse and apology that Elizabeth was given and knew she didn't buy it for a moment. Rachel kept looking at her stepmother in a way that came off to Robert as calculating, trying to determine what to say that would work to make everything blow over for her with minimal consequences.

"You can leave. You can pack up your things and leave my house."

"I. ..I have to call my mom."

"Then call her." While the tone in Elizabeth's voice left no doubt about her feelings for Rachel, the girl herself seemed to think Elizabeth wasn't serious. She was standing there looking at her, waiting on Elizabeth to change her mind about wanting her gone.

"You know, I'd listen to Elizabeth and make that call now." Robert could lie and say he didn't know what made him step forward at that moment, but he did. Seeing Lizzie hurt and without backup was too much for him. It should be Greene stepping up, but Greene was off playing doctor instead. So Robert put on his low and smooth dangerous voice and got far more involved than he knew he should have. And it worked. Racheal had been oblivious to his presence before and now recognized that not only was she in a room where no one liked her but that Elizabeth for once had actual back up when dealing with her. "I'd want to be back where ever it is you came from when the police arrive."

"Police?" Racheal looked properly scared for the first time, and Robert didn't need to see Elizabeth's face to know she was pleased.

"H. Five. One. Two. Two. Mandatory reporting of illegal substances. Anytime an overdose comes in, we're required to fill it out and alert the police. Normally they would have shown up by now, but considering the circumstances, I'm sure everyone was too shocked to fill it out properly. But as Chief of Staff, I'll make sure everything was documented properly, considering who all was involved. And might I suggest the next time you want to visit the PICU, you have Elizabeth's explicit permission first. Now get out."

And Rachel ran.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't get the impression that she believed you." Watching Elizabeth carefully, Robert was shocked to see her fighting back tears; it had been the last reaction he had expected. The hug that followed was, even more, a surprise as she buried her head into his chest and sobbed. Part of him kept thinking, this should be Greene with her, and the other slightly louder part was pointing out that Greene wasn't there. Finders keepers. Holding her tight, Robert let her cry, unsure just what had triggered it. Eventually, she pulled back from him, wiping her eyes clean.

"Thank you."

"You can cry on me anytime, Lizzie."

"No, I mean, thank you for stepping in. Mark won't do anything about Rachel. It's not as if she hasn't been getting in trouble; he's just too busy trying to make up for the missed time to acknowledge that she's an out-of-control teenager. He won't even call her mother to tell her what Rachell's done this time. Are you actually going to file the report?"

Robert gave her a long hard look at her question. Elizabeth was very clearly drowning with a lack of support, and he wasn't sure what was appropriate. Very quietly, he asked, "Do you want me to?"

"Yes." Her answer was firm and instantaneous. Nodding, he went over to the phone and dialed the ER, demanding to speak to Chen. Unsurprisingly there had been some push back. Chen said that Dr. Greene was handling it, and in return, Robert issued an ultimatum, file the report now, or she was fired. If she had any qualms about doing her job, she was welcome to visit Elizabeth and Ella in the PICU to be reminded of the situation's serious nature. Hanging up the phone, Robert went back to Elizabeth, who was sitting next to Ella, looking utterly defeated.

"Chen's going to file the report now. I'm going to go grab some food, and if it's not handled by the time I'm back, I'll do it myself. Is that okay?"

"Thank you, Robert."


Elizabeth was done. Done with Mark, and done with the marriage. He had missed the neurology consult, and his only excuse was that the ER had gotten swamped. It took everything in her to walk away without slapping the man.

"Your daughter's in the PICU, Mark."

"Yeah, breathing on her own-"

"You just run away and leave it up to me. You know what, I'm going to go home, I'm going to shower I'm going to change my clothes."

"Careful, the evil daughter's there waiting for me."

Elizabeth stopped to look at him and gave her best go fuck yourself look. "Just go upstairs and sit with your baby." She didn't stay long enough for his reaction. It didn't matter because he was following her.

"You told her to leave."

"She asked what she could do.

"You're serious?"

"I'm serious."

"You can't do that. And getting Romano involved, threatening to call the police?. We can't turn her away, not now. What as that guy even doing there?"

"Robert was trying to take my lunch order. But what has to happen, Mark? Does she actually have to succeed in killing her?" Adopting a faster pace, Elizabeth took off making Mark chase after her across the ambulance bay.

"You can't make me choose between my two daughters!"

"Whether or not you realize it, you've already chosen! And if you can't see that, then fine, I'm choosing for you."

"What am I telling her by letting you ship her away? By calling the cops?" He grabbed her shoulder, and Elizabeth spun round to face him, her last restraint broken at his touch.

"That she needs to grow up." Properly shouting in the ambulance bay had not been on her list of things to do, and yet here she was. With each word, Elizabeth's voice grew louder and more hurt. "That she needs to take responsibility. That what she does has very real consequences for people besides herself."

"She realizes that! Do you think she would actually hurt Ella again?"

"With her lack of consideration for others, YES! Either she's out of the house by the time I take that baby home, or I'm not taking that baby home."

"Hold on, calm down-"

"She's my child, Mark!"

"I know that she's mine too!"

"Then start acting like it!" Elizabeth rounding on Mark and shoved him away.

Somehow the day had gotten worse, and Elizabeth wanted to curl up and cry. Not because of Ella, but because of Mark. He was never going to put Ella, their defenseless nine-month-old before Rachell, and was more concerned with coddling the wayward teen than sitting with Ella. He had taken a shift in the ER before he would sit with Ella. When Elizabeth stepped into her house for a shower and fresh clothes, a calm came over her. I am never staying here again. Repeating it over and over, she ignored the loud music coming from the room of her stepdaughter and climbed the stairs towards a hot shower.

The brief shower was followed by packing. A bag with a week's worth of clothes for work, provisions for Ella, important documents such as her immigration papers, her passport, and the account ledger for her personal accounts. A sigh of relief that she had held out on putting all of her savings in their joint account. Years of working as a surgeon with no medical school debt had meant that she had a very nice savings account, something that would come in handy as she contemplated which hotel to check into. Mark would never be able to find her, and more importantly, Ella would not be exposed to ecstasy. The last thing Elizabeth grabbed before loading up her car was the card of her immigration lawyer.

Upon arriving back at County, Elizabeth felt slightly appeased at seeing a lone figure sitting next to Ella's cot, the dim light illuminating her husband's shining head. A pause outside the door to take in the scene made her let out a sob. Though the man seated shared a lack of hair with Mark, that was the only thing they had in common. The man was upright and confident and leaned back, stretching his shoulders and rolling his neck in the familiar manner that Robert did in the OR. True to his word, he had stayed with Ella until she or Mark came back. Lost in thought, Elizabeth didn't notice a man approach her.

"Dr. Corday?"

It was a police officer, his partner not far behind him.

"Finally"

Elizabeth lead them through into the ward, pulling up a stool to sit next to Robert as they asked her question after question. They even tried to ask Robert questions, under the assumption he was her husband, for who else would be sitting there with her on a Sunday. What happened? Where was she? Where was Mark? Why didn't Mark call the Nanny? Why didn't Mark stay home? Why did they think Rachel was responsible enough to babysit? Why didn't Elizabeth protest more if she was uncomfortable with it?

The list went on and on. The police finally asked if Elizabeth thought there were more drugs in the house.

"It doesn't matter, Rachel was home went I went to change, and if she's half as clever as she thinks she is, she will have flushed the pills by now."

"We're concerned about the welfare of your daughter. If there are drugs in the house and she's already gotten into them once…it becomes a social services issue."

"Ella is never going back there. I… I packed a bag. Grabbed everything important and phoned a hotel; I've got a reservation under my name starting tonight. Ella can get discharged tomorrow, and Rachel will never come anywhere near her again." She ignored the looks from Robert; it was all too much to deal with as is.

"We're still going to be getting social services involved."

"Good. Someone should force Mark to do something since he clearly doesn't give a damn about what I have to say or what happens to Ella."

"Ma'am?"

"Do you know she threatened to stab a girl at school with a pair of scissors she was holding and gave Mark some sob story about how the girl deserved it because she was trying to steal her boyfriend. Oh, and that she wasn't going to stab her, just hold her down and cut off her hair." The officers and Robert just looked at her in shock. "I want a copy of your police report; it'll be helpful when I file for divorce. Are we done here?"

The police had eventually left and told her social services would be doing a follow-up. Robert stayed, sitting in silence next to her until his own stomach started to rumble, and he was reminded of the fact that his car and wallet were still parked at the beach and Gretel needed to be fed.

"Hey, I hate to leave you right now, but-"

"Oh, Robert, go. I know you've got that massive hound waiting on you."

"Yeah. Do you want me to arrange more food for you before I leave?"

"That would be wonderful."

"You're going to let me know if there anything else I can do, right?"

With a heavy sigh, she looked at him, "Actually, if you've got any friends who happen to be divorce layers…all I've got is my immigration lawyer, and I'm going to need more than that."

"My best friend is one, actually. Max is one of the best in the city."

"Good."

"I'll get you his card tomorrow." Standing up, Robert looked down at her, and his heart broke for her. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head and then left.

Elizabeth was once again alone.