A/N: I am so sorry I haven't updated in ages. And it's not even that I've been that busy. I suppose you could say I lost my inspiration for this story for a while. Anybody know what I mean? Also, a little while ago I did write a chapter 3 but then my program crashed and I hadn't saved so I lost the entire thing, then I was just pissed off so I reaaallly didn't wanna try to write again for a long time haha. BUT here I am now, and hope you enjoy.

Breakthrough

Ch. 3 – A Lesser Man

Mark Sloan paced around his living room at 4:00 in the morning, having been unable to sleep all night. He'd slipped out of the hospital shortly after Derek fell asleep, unable to stand being near him any longer. He felt bad for leaving without saying goodbye, but he just couldn't face Derek right now. Something was wrong with him and he needed to get his shit together.

I'm just all messed up from the trauma of the shooting... he tried to convince himself. But he wasn't so sure that was true. His gut was wondering if perhaps the trauma was actually making him see things clearly for the first time...

He sat down on the couch and leaned forward, resting his face in his hands. He tried to clear his thoughts, but failed; a particular memory insisted upon replaying itself in his head and he couldn't abate it any longer.

The two men were standing in the elevator at Seattle Grace, Derek in front, texting, and Mark behind him leaning against the wall. Mark had something to say, but wasn't sure how to bring it up. He put on his best bravado and began speaking without thinking too much about his word choice.

"I don't like her. I'm sorry, but as your friend it's my job to say it; I don't like Rose," Mark said.

"Why?" Derek asked bored, without even looking up.

"You're not even sleeping with her!" Mark replied. Derek turned around with a sarcastic look.

"You don't like her because... she's not sleeping with me? That's a little weird," he said as he turned back to his phone.

"It's not weird," Mark said defensively.

"It's a little weird," Derek insisted, rolling his eyes.

"Hey! If you were sleeping with Rose I could understand why you're spending time with her, but you're not," Mark explained. "And it's... it's just... I, I thought that uh..." he leaned in and lowered his voice, "I thought it was just gonna be... you and me!"

Derek turned around to look at his friend with furrowed brows.

"...having sex?" he said incredulously.

"AFTER!" Mark retorted, but gave no other denial. "After Addison, after Meredith. I have been patient. I have waited while you've partnered up with these chicks, but now they're over. And it's supposed to be... just us! You and me! Two guys on the prowl, on the hunt!"

"You're having trouble getting laid, and you need my help!" Derek replied while shaking his head, as though everything made perfect sense. His smile was devious and pissed Mark off.

"I can get laid," he said with veracity.

"Mhmm," Derek mumbled mockingly.

"I can get laid whenever I want," Mark added.

"Uh huh," Derek teased.

"I DO get laid whenever I want!" Mark qualified, while Derek continued to nod his head, scoffing.

"Uh huh!" Derek repeated, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"That's the point! Women are everywhere," Mark said as turned away from his friend. "I only have one person I can talk to," he added under his breath. Derek turned and looked at Mark with a patronizing air and said,

"That's sweet."

"Shut up!"Mark spat.

"No it's really warm and fuzzy, very sweet," Derek said with his devious grin.

"SHUT UP!" Mark replied, then leaned in close, "Are you serious about this woman?"

Derek sighed and looked around the elevator. "I dunno... could be," he said with a nod, then continued looking around aimlessly. Mark stared at him for a moment longer, then drew a sharp breath and turned away from Derek as the elevator dinged.

"Alright," he said, nodding along with Derek, "I'll give her a chance." Derek gave a final nod and said "Good boy," as he stepped off the elevator. He turned around and faced Mark as the elevator doors began to close between them.

"You're pathetic and I'm a lesser man for knowing you," Mark said with a triumphant grin.

"That's my line! Can't use my line," Derek said with a broad smile, and walked away as the doors closed on a somber looking Mark.

Mark opened his eyes and exhaled loudly. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, walking towards the kitchen. He pulled out a glass and filled it with water, but only took a small sip before setting it on the counter. He leaned against the opposite counter and folded his arms, staring at the glass as if it should contain an explanation to his troubled thoughts. You never actually denied his joke about the two of you having sex... his thoughts teased him. He scoffed at himself, his face contorted in a look of utter disebelief. Sex? ME. Me, and Derek, having SEX? We're both dudes! How are two dudes supposed to have sex anyway? I can't even think about it! He yelled back at his thoughts. But he wasn't that naïve, and he knew it. He'd never been a "homophobe", always kept an open-mind, and had known many wonderful gay people in his life, so he knew trying to play off his thoughts of another man as utterly ludicrous wasn't going to cut it.

"But it's not even about sex," he said out loud quietly, while still staring into the glass.

"I just..." he began, then finished his thought in his head; I feel a... a bond, a connection... I mean, I always have, we've been like brothers our whole lives... but something's different now...

Just then his cell phone beeped from the bedroom. He looked at clock; 4:24 am. Who the fuck is texting me this late? He thought as he headed towards his room. He walked in and picked up his phone off the bedside table, and flipped it open. The screen read:

1 NEW MESSAGE:

DEREK

Mark's pulse sped. He stared at his phone with both confusion and curiosity, then looked all around the room as if expecting to find an answer on the walls. Just read it, you pansy, his subconscious taunted him. He exhaled sharply and pressed "open". The message was short and Mark didn't know what to make of it:

You still up?