#mario savetti

You hadn't spoken of your family often and in the fifteen-minute meeting, Mario understood why as your brother had all the classic traits of a drug user. And he could see that you were hesitant to trust your brother when he said that his wages weren't due for another week, hence why he asked money for groceries to fill his fridge.

You went to get your purse, reluctantly leaving the two men alone and Mario crossed his arms, leaning against the countertop as your brother sparked conversation.

"So how long have you been seeing my sister?"

"A while," Mario answered vaguely. "Where do you work?"

"Oh, I waiter at a diner." Your brother nodded, turning to you when you returned.

Seeing you were conflicted, Mario wanted to step in, but you didn't want to make a scene, so you handed your brother the cash and he thanked you.

"I'll see you around." Your brother directed to Mario who merely nodded in acknowledgement. You followed your brother to the door, lowering your voice as you told him you wanted to see the receipt and while he agreed, he never did.

You had been seeing Mario for over two months now and while early on you believed he wanted nothing serious after your co-worker was brought to Angels to be treated after he suffered a heart attack, seeing how close you two seemed to be, Mario's feelings were clear to you. He was jealous and you had never been so relieved - although it took some encouragement for him to open up to you after being so closed off for so long.

You were the youngest of four kids. While you had spoken about your sister who worked in a high-end clothing store and one of your brothers who left for university and never returned - ashamed of his family, but he kept in contact with you now and then - you never mentioned your second brother who was only two years older than you. And after this morning Mario understood why.

His reasons for understanding weren't known to you yet, but they soon would be. Instead of asking outright, Mario decided to test the waters, to find out what you would say or how you would describe the brother who had followed in your parents footsteps.

"He seems nice." He turned to you when you poured a cup of coffee, suddenly quiet after your brother left.

"Yeah, he is."

"Where does he work again?"

"He waiters at a diner. I can't remember the name." You excused as your brother had refused to share it with you. In his words, "don't check up on me".

You handed him the coffee, and Mario could see that you were miles away with worry, with growing regret because while you didn't want to admit it, the money you gave your brother wasn't for groceries.

"I'm going to get dressed."

He sighed as he watched you leave, torn between wanting to intervene, wanting to protect you from further disappointment, and starting a fight. In the end, his conscience won and he followed you to the bedroom.

"I know B/N is a drug user."

You turned from where you were choosing a shirt from your dresser, looking at him in confusion although your eyes lit up with surprise that was overtaken by your instinct to defend your brother.

You laughed off the feeling, looking at Mario who knew that his prediction was correct. A fight was inevitable.

"What? It's grocery money. So he's a little short this week? That doesn't make him a druggie." You took out an outfit from the wardrobe, placing it on the bed.

"I've seen enough to notice the signs. And trust me he's a classic case."

"He's a little down on his luck. That's it." You took off his shirt, standing only in a bra and underwear as you tossed it to him. "Now, get out."

"I can help -" Mario caught his shirt, and sighed when you glared at him.

"Get out!" You pointed to the door, and he quickly put his shirt on.

"Fine! But if he doesn't get the help he needs, you know there are only two places he's going to end up. Jail, or the morgue. So don't come to me when you need a shoulder to cry on."

You watched as he left the bedroom, casting your eyes to the floor, knowing he was right. You heard the front door slam moments later, and sank onto the mattress, feeling tears prick your eyes.

A few days later you wished you hadn't reacted the way you did. You knew Mario better than most people and knew that while he hadn't worded it correctly, he was trying to help. But you knew it was futile. Yet when you asked your brother for the receipt and he claimed he lost it, you were surprised. He had promised he was sober, and had found a good job to pay rent on a decent apartment which when you began to investigate, he hadn't stayed in for months.

You wished you hadn't reacted the way you did that morning because everything that happened afterwards, could have been prevented.

Mario recognised your brother when he was brought out of the ambulance from a suspected overdose. The drugs he had taken were shutting down his organs and until they found out what the drugs were, there was little they could do. Mario kept quiet, not letting on that they knew each other, and after helping keep him alive when he suddenly began to thrash around and his pulse dropped, Mario helped stabilize his vitals and gave him something to help him sleep it off.

You were across town when Doctor Pineda called and explained what happened and you feared that today was the day your brother finally went too far. You entered Angels and were directed to Trauma One where your brother was being closely monitored. Mario was bandaging another patient, asking for someone else to take over when he saw you and you swallowed thickly when you saw his expression.

"How is he?"

Mario exhaled, casting his eyes to the floor as he shook his head. You covered your mouth, tears building in your eyes as he began to explain what happened.

"It's not looking good. There is internal damage from whatever he took - his organs are failing."

"This is all my fault." You turned away and Mario led you to the break room, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, look at me," He spoke gently, "he would've gotten it somehow. You know that."

"How long does he have?" You asked, tears falling down your cheeks as you met his gaze.

"Weeks. Months if we're being optimistic."

You covered your mouth in shock, and Mario grimaced at his poor word choice, wanting to comfort you yet all he seemed to do was make it worse. He brought you to his chest, and you cried on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

The door opened and Angus looked between you both, briefly meeting Mario's gaze before leaving and closing the door. A few minutes later, you lifted your head and wiped your tears, taking slow breathes to ease your nerves.

"Do you want me to call someone -"

"They won't come." You shook your head. "I just wanna see him. Can I?"

Mario nodded, "Come on." He rested a hand on your back as he led you out of the break room detected only by Jesse who raised an eyebrow but would ask questions later.

Mario parted the curtain so you could enter and you gasped when you saw the state your brother was in. "Oh my god!" You vaguely heard Mario try to explain what each piece of equipment did, but you remembered none of it as you approached your brother. You took hold of his hand in both of yours, gazing down at him through teary eyes. "I'm here." You swallowed the lump in your throat as you combed his hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here. A lot of good I've done so far, eh?"

"You've done a lot for him," Mario spoke up, causing you to look up over at where he stood with his arms crossed.

"He probably would've been better off without me." You returned your gaze to your brother who you knew was unlikely to wake up - the odds stacked highly against him.

"No, he wouldn't. The reason he lasted so long is because of you."

You turned to Mario when he lowered his arms, stepping closer.

"Miss L/N?" The curtain parted, and you were greeted by Jesse and two uniformed police officers.

"Yeah." You replied, eyebrows furrowing at their sudden arrival.

"We'd like a word, please. About your brother."

"Can't it wait?" Mario asked, turning around, subconsciously standing between you and the police officers.

"We can either talk here, or at the precinct."

"She's not the one you should be looking for."

"Mario," You spoke softly, preventing him from responding. You looked at your brother, squeezing his hand, assuring him you would be right back. You glanced at Mario who you knew wanted to follow and sent him a small smile. You wished your argument hadn't happened. You wished you could rewind to that morning. There was so much that you would do differently.

Your brother's health, while not perfect, stabilized enough that he was able to undergo further treatment. After your interview with the cops, you were approached by Leanne who wanted to perform a transplant that would benefit your brother greatly and give him at least ten more years.

Mario was assigned to prep you and as he handed you a gown, you knew he was upset. "I have to."

"I know." He sighed. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I don't like it either. Do I feel anything or is it like a pen across your palm feeling?"

"No, you won't feel a thing. You'll be completely unconscious." He sank into the chair, hidden by the curtains. You lowered your gaze to your hands, looking up at him when he spoke, his eyes focused on the floor. "It was my dad. It wasn't drugs, it was alcohol."

"I'm sorry." You frowned, seeing his discomfort in sharing something so personal. You weren't sure you would ever know everything about Mario Savetti, the man had secrets buried deeper than you could dig to.

"The only time I see him is when he needs money." He met your gaze. "Ring any bells?"

"I'm going through with it." You told him and he lowered his gaze to the floor, his jaw tightening a little as he tried not to lash out. "Ten years is a long time."

"Having the transplant doesn't mean he suddenly gets clean." He warned.

"It's the one thing I haven't tried." You blinked away the tears in your eyes. "And I'm freaked out enough as it is so can we drop it, please?"

Mario stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Build a time machine." You said, referring to your date the night before everything went wrong, the night he came over and you watched Back To The Future.

You smiled softly when his lips twitched upwards, "A blue box or a DeLorean?" He played along.

You shrugged, "Surprise me."

He chuckled, and you smiled as he walked over to you. "I don't like it." He began. "But I'll support it."

You tilted your head up when he placed a hand on your cheek. "Thank you." Mario leaned down and you closed your eyes as your lips met.

When you pulled away, he sent you a smirk, "Need help with the gown?"

You rolled your eyes, "Nice try."

He helped up his hands, and you giggled as he walked to the curtain. "I'll be right outside."

Mario had other patients that kept him busy, and although he tried to stick around until you were taken upstairs to surgery, it was made impossible by the chaos of Trauma One. He had lost track of time and when he went to find you the bed was empty and he knew it was too late. He knew the surgeons in Angels, having met them once or twice since he started working there, but that didn't mean he trusted them with you.

Hours later he would learn the surgery was a success and you would recover quickly while your brother would need further treatment, and Mario visited you while you were recuperating, returning to the hospital hours before his shift began to drive you to your apartment. You weren't afraid to ask him questions about his past before, but you felt he was more at ease now as he confided in you.

In the weeks that followed your brother recovered steadily as did your relationship with Mario. You were proud to see that the scare seemed to jumpstart your brother as he got clean and found a stable job and a decent apartment. However, unbeknown to Mario the new lease of life didn't last as long as you made it out to be.

Almost a year later, Mario was leaving after a long shift when your brother was wheeled in with stab wounds. Mario sent you a text message, asking you to meet him at the hospital, withholding that your brother was bleeding out in Trauma One.

"What happened?" He asked as he followed.

"A call came in from a payphone that a body was found behind a closed-down video store. When we arrived, the ambulance was already there and the paramedics found these in his pockets." A female detective held up three bags of pills and Mario looked at your brother as the two detectives began to step aside and let the team work to stitch up your brother's wounds whilst discussing which drug would be best to alleviate any pain and not make his situation worse due to the drugs already in his system.

Nearly an hour later Mario met you by the elevators and you knew from his expression that it was serious. "What's wrong?"

"You knew, didn't you?"

"W-What? Knew what?"

"Your brother is here." Mario began walking and you followed, asking thousands of questions that only upset Mario further. "He was stabbed. In what looks like a drug deal gone bad. Detectives are hovering around waiting for a statement."

You glanced at the two detectives and Mario looked at you when one of them took out your brother's wallet and held it up, glancing between your picture inside and you.

"They want to talk to you."

"Mario, I -"

"How long has he been back in town?"

"A week. Maybe two. He was clean."

"Tell that to the pills in his pocket," Mario replied, shaking his head. "You should have told me."

"I knew how you would react."

"And how am I reacting? How you thought?" Mario noticed the detectives approaching and lowered his voice. "You have to tell the truth."

"I can't."

"Whatever you do, do not implicate yourself." He continued.

"Mario, he's my brother."

"And you'll get arrested." He glanced at the detectives, meeting your gaze sternly, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

You both fell silent when the two detectives approached. "Excuse me. Y/N L/N?" You nodded. "Could we have a word?" You looked at Mario who sighed as you walked away, heading to find an empty room for the interrogation. And he could only hope that you listened to him.

Mario scrubbed in and joined the team as they tried to figure out what the pills were. Mario cleared his throat as he told them, adding, "It's a long-winning favourite."

"And you know this because?" Neal asked.

"I know his sister."

"Of course, you do." Neal began to direct everyone, who worked quickly to stabilise your brother.

When he began to crash, Mario stepped in to perform compressions, muttering under his breath. "Come on. Don't do this to her. Come on."

The steady beep returned and Mario sighed when he heard it. He had seen what happened the last time your brother was brought to Angels and your relationship had grown since then, so he knew more now than he did then, how much it would devastate you to lose the brother that had always looked out for you when you were younger.

When the detectives were finished speaking with you, you returned to Trauma One where you found Jesse, who you knew only from Mario's description. He escorted you to where your brother was currently resting and you found Mario checking his vitals. You didn't know that Jesse remembered you from the last incident and had spoken to Mario about it, which led to Mario confiding in the one person he felt able to at the time.

"Thanks, mama."

You looked between the two as Jesse walked away, before approaching your brother, taking his hand. "How is he?"

"Stable. He won't wake up till tomorrow." Mario replied. "What did you tell them?"

"You told me to be honest." You turned your head to look at him. "So I told them everything I know. Who supplies him. His history." You sighed as you looked at your brother.

"I didn't think you'd listen."

"I wasn't going to." You turned to him, sitting on the chair beside your brother's bed. "But I know you were right. That's why I signed him up for a rehabilitation program. He doesn't get out until I know he's going to stay clean."

You looked over at your brother, then at Mario when he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You did the right thing."

"Then why do I feel horrible?"

He kissed your head when you rested it on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. "Because you know he's gonna be pissed and you feel like you're letting him down after everything he's done for you. But trust me," You lifted your head to meet his gaze, "you aren't letting him down. You are looking out for him. And I am looking after you."

"So who is looking after you?"

"You do," Mario told you. "Every day."

You stood up and kissed his cheek. "Which reminds me. You have been working five hours over your shift. Are you hungry, or skipping straight to bed?" Mario smirked, and you rolled your eyes. "Not like that." You bumped your shoulder with his as you walked away, and he chuckled as he followed.

"Sleep sounds great right now."

He pressed the button for the elevator and placed his arm around your shoulders as you stepped inside, and you rested your head on his shoulder with a smile, as he pressed for the garage floor where his car was parked before his shift.