Gray's anatomy reverse

Six weeks after the nightmare of Lexie’s illness, life had finally begun to settle back into its usual rhythm. Her fever had broken, her strength had returned, and she was back at work with a vengeance. Mark had been doting on her relentlessly during her recovery, refusing to leave her side even as she protested she was fine. Now, as they walked through the halls of Sloan Memorial, they were greeted by a buzz of excitement and speculation: the position of Chief of Surgery was officially open, and four candidates were in the running.

Dr. Caroline Voss had been fired in disgrace, her treatment of Lexie—along with other complaints from staff—leading to a unanimous decision by the hospital board to terminate her contract. Her removal had sent shockwaves through the hospital, but for Mark, it had been a small measure of justice for what she’d put Lexie through.

“Feels weird without Voss stalking the halls,” Lexie said, adjusting her white coat as they walked toward the surgical board.

Mark smirked, slipping an arm around her waist. “Weird, but better. I’m not spending every day wondering when she’ll try to pull some stunt to make your life hell again.”

Lexie laughed softly, shaking her head. “She really did hate me. I’m still not sure how I survived it.”

“You survived it because you’re brilliant,” Mark said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her temple. “And now she’s gone, and you’re back where you belong—kicking ass and taking names in your fellowship.”

Lexie grinned, but before she could respond, they were interrupted by the sound of Callie and Bailey arguing near the nurses’ station.

“I’m just saying,” Callie said, her tone defensive, “if anyone’s qualified to take over as Chief, it’s me. I’ve been leading ortho for years, and my patient outcomes are stellar.”

“And I’ve been running this hospital on my back for just as long,” Bailey countered, crossing her arms. “The residents already call me the Nazi. I’ve been running things unofficially for years.”

Derek approached, his usual calm demeanor intact. “Ladies, let’s not turn this into a shouting match. The board will make their decision soon enough.”

Mark raised an eyebrow as he and Lexie joined the group. “What’s the debate about? Who’s better suited to sit in a chair all day instead of being in an OR?”

Callie rolled her eyes. “Funny, Sloan. You’re in the running too, remember? Or did you forget that the board thinks you’re capable of more than plastics?”

Mark smirked. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t plan on campaigning for it. If they want me, great. If not, I’m happy doing what I do best—fixing faces.”

Bailey snorted. “That’s because you don’t want the responsibility. Being Chief is about more than surgeries, Sloan. It’s about leadership, discipline, and making tough calls.”

Derek nodded thoughtfully. “She’s right. It’s a role that requires more than just being a great surgeon. It’s about guiding the hospital and the people in it.”

Lexie glanced at Mark, noting the way his expression shifted slightly. She knew he was capable of leadership, but she also knew he didn’t relish the idea of being tied to a desk.

“What do you think?” Lexie asked him quietly as the others continued debating.

Mark shrugged, his hand brushing hers. “I think they’ll pick whoever they think is best. And as long as it’s not someone like Voss, I’ll be fine with it.”

Lexie smiled, squeezing his hand. “Good answer.”

As they moved toward the OR board, the speculation continued. It was clear that whoever became the new Chief would face high expectations—but for now, the hospital was running smoothly, and for Mark and Lexie, that was more than enough.