A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful comments last time. I know reading this is probably like asking someone to kick you in the teeth but I really appreciate what everyone had to say. I foresee next chapter being just a touch more fluffy because there' s a baby and Mark with infants is like comedic gold in my head. Enjoy-

The thing is that everyone will feel some level of pain. Some will deny involvement from the get go and hurry back out onto the floor to avoid any potential discomfort; some will take blame and place it on their own shoulders, letting it weigh heavy on their hearts for weeks and others will spend more time with their loved ones invoking the, “Life is short,” rule. But it will touch everyone, jolt them from their happy states of denial and demand to be confronted and taken head on. No one will get it right, this isn’t a game to be played by win/lose rules but some will invariably fair better than others and it will lead to more problems than anyone ever thought imaginable.

There will be a series of days where Richard actually contemplates just shutting down the damn surgical floor because his workers are too fucking wanked out of their heads to be talking to patients, let alone operating on them but he‘ll leave things be and people will refuse to step away for fear of being left alone with themselves. Miranda will cease the yelling for about a week and look carefully at the people in front of her. She’ll keep a watchful eye over the young residents and George who will play the oddest role of all. When Addison steps out of the cold, sterile room and looks her friend in the eye she will remember it as the worst day of her life and nothing will ever top the overwhelming feeling of absolute wretchedness for as long as she will live. Derek will surprisingly be of no use to anyone and Cristina will step up to the plate before anyone can even ask. And lastly, both Izzie and Meredith will make mistakes that they will regret for the rest of their lives.

Because death isn’t solely about coping with a loss; it’s about finding who is left after everything is stripped away.

“Mark!” Callie shouts from the bathroom, trying to convince herself that there is no reason to cry over the fact that there is too much space in between her and counter and that she can’t reach the hair clip she wants on the top shelf of the cabinet in front of her because of it. “Mark!”

“Is it time? Where’s the bag?” He asks anxiously pacing into the room and not even bothering to look over his shoulder to see that Callie is more on the verge of tears than in pain.

“No, it’s not time idiot.” She wipes at her eyes feeling childish and silly but he catches her in time to see the wet glistening on her caramel skin.

“What’s wrong?” He asks tiredly because it is always something these days and he’s trying. He’s trying to be supportive and considerate but he has never seen anyone cry so much in his life and it wears on his nerves. He tried to talk to Derek about it but he has no children and with any luck never will so he doesn’t understand or have any advice for his friend.

“I can’t reach it.” She mutters to the ground, purposely avoiding the notion that she can no longer see if her feet are attached to her legs anymore. It will only lead to a hormonal break down and seeing as she is managing about one and half a day she thinks she should hold off lest Mark jump out the window one night never to return.

“Reach what?” He grumbles, drops the overnight bag onto the floor, and shuffles into the bathroom.

“My clip, the black one.” She pouts too cutely forcing him to capture her plump lips in his before he slips in front of her and delicately plucks the pokey edged holder from the shelf, “Thanks.”

“No problem. That’s what I’m here for. Hard to reach places, heavy lifting and-”

“Foot massages.” She quips ending the sentence.

“I was going to say taking out the garbage but ok.”

She places a hand on her hip as he looks back at her innocently. She loves that he still plays with her, that they can keep things light even when their situation demands frustration and occasional yelling. “Don’t make me beg.”

“Gosh, I don’t know Cal. My hands are pretty tired from working all day long.” He smiles brusquely at the end of the sentence before crouching down and lifting her off her feet amidst a series of squeals from her proclaiming that he’s too old to do this and that his back is going to go out but before she can finish he has her on the bed safe and sound.

“I have to carry a nine hundred pound fetus around all day who takes perverse pleasure in squishing my bladder into the size of a thimble. I’ve actually contemplated sleeping on the toilet Mark. It makes more sense.”

“Blah…blah…blah. Carrying a baby is so hard.” Callie’s hand smacks his chest in protest but he silences the discussion with another kiss and then relents to the nightly task of rubbing her feet. He doesn’t particularly mind but it’s fun to make her work for it from time to time. “Ohhh…god.” She groans as his thumb digs into the middle of her swollen foot.

“I know.” He retorts, “I’m that good.”

“Shut up.” Her eyes roll back a little and she drops from her placed propped up onto the bed and relaxes into the pillows moaning when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

“Hey Cal?” He questions nearly fifteen minutes later as her black curly hair, minus the life altering clip, is starting to form a touch of bed head and her eyes are completely closed.

“What?” She mutters, angry from being drug from the almost sleep she was enjoying.

“I-I…never mind.” He shakes his head and turns back to her left foot, tenderly working through the soft skin.

“No, I’m sorry I snapped- that I’ve been snapping, you can tell me.”

“It’s not important.”

She watches him work, her head tilting to the side, dusk filling their room. “I’m sorry I’ve been a hormonal wreck, I know you didn’t sign on for this-”

“You don’t need to apologize to me Callie. We both got ourselves into this mess-”

“Mess?” She wiggles upright and stares at him incredulously. A switch has been flipped. Their child is not a mess. Unplanned, surprising but not unwanted and certainly not a mess.

“You know what I mean.” He shrugs.

“No, no I don’t think I do.”

“Callie, baby, I was just saying that you don’t need to apologize because there is no need. I understand that this is a difficult time for you and I want to be supportive. I want to be here for you and be able to help you and our son any way that I can, okay?” He breathes deeply hoping that he warded off the potential fight, at least for now, and sets his jaw.

“You think this was a mistake?” She asks quietly. Normally, she goes with the flow, but being alone all day surrounded by horrible TV judges and soap operas that don’t hold a candle to Seattle Grace gossip gives her time to think. Maybe too much time.

He drops her ankle and crawls up pulling her head against his chest and snuggling them back into the fluffy red pillows. If they are going to talk seriously, he wants to be able to at least hold her. He’s better at conveying things through touch than through words and this could backfire in an extreme way. “Callie,” he starts patiently, “…it was a mistake. An honest mistake but that doesn’t change the fact that I am excited. Sometimes the best things are unplanned.”

“I meant staying together.” She questions it every day and it isn’t because he’s difficult to live with. He puts the toilet seat down every time, voluntarily removes the trash and even cleaned the refrigerator one afternoon. His clothes are always at least close the hamper (closer than hers) and his shaved stubble never clogs the bathroom sink. But Callie wasn’t looking for a roommate, she was looking for a lover; a friend, someone to spend the rest of her life with and she’s not sure she’s found it regardless of how loudly her biological clock was chiming in the back ground.

Keeping baby boy Torres-Sloan (name to be decided in three days) was a no-brainer. She had more money than she would ever make, even if she didn’t want it, it was there and she felt better spending it on her child than on some stupid house and fancy car. She had a set career, even if she was demoted (which turned out to be a good thing).  She was still at the top of her game and she genuinely loved her job and from what she’s heard finding something you love and being successful at it are not things that generally come hand in hand. She was lucky in every other aspect of her life and even though she recognized that it would be difficult to be a single mother answering daddy questions and doing daddy things, she knew she could do it and that she wanted to.

His voice breaks her momentary reverie, “You don’t think- Do you not want to be together anymore?” He jumps, heart racing, in fear of being broken up with. He’s always been the one to walk away first. Except Addison, and it always comes back to Addison because she broke the mold. Tore it wide open and he loved every second of it and will end up spending the rest of his life looking for something he‘ll never have only to discover it‘s not really what he wants.

“I don’t- that’s not it. I was asking your opinion.”

“I’m not really a good judge of this kind of stuff.” He replies seriously, “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. Relationships are not my forte apparently.”

“Well that makes two of us.” He kisses the top of her head, heart beat slowing.

“I just don’t want to wake up in three years and realize that we are both insanely miserable and that we’ve only been fooling ourselves. That‘s not fair to any child.” She whispers honestly as the sunlight begins to disappear outside their window.

“Are you happy now?”

“Yes.” She replies quickly and shocks herself.

“Well, I think that’s all we need. I’m happy. We’ll play it by ear…nothing is perfect.”

“Yeah.” She falls quiet for a minute, tracing the outline of his chest through the light cotton of his emerald green fitted tee.

“Maybe it’s fate.” He offers, coming up with no better explanation.

“I don’t believe in fate.” Callie remarks almost instantly. This last year ruined a lot of things for her. Took her faith in almost everything, including herself but having Mark around helps and she takes it for granted daily.

“Me either.” He laments because he is damn sure that fate hasn’t carved the path he chosen to take in life so far.

Fate will change their world permanently in three days; it will end their world entirely in one hundred and two days.
 

“There’s no way they’re actually happy.” Izzie murmurs digging her fork into the limp greens in front of her as the rest of the residents stare back with bored faces. Jealous would be an understatement and they’re all just a touch tired of hearing from the blonde on what she thinks about the Sloan/Torres situation but not as tired as they are about listening to Meredith yammer on about the Shepherd/Montgomery-Shepherd non-drama. The least of the evils.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Who cares?”

“Apparently Izzie. Though I’m not surprised.” Cristina counters sipping her water.

Meredith purses her mouth, “Well I overheard Addison and Derek fighting about the trailer again.”

“There has got to be something more interesting going on in this place.” Cristina mutters.

“Nope. With Shepherd married to Shepherd again and the manwhore tied down to the dirty ortho-chick this place has gone to shit, unless of course there needs to be a prom again and Meredith conveniently misplaces her underwear.”

“Been there, done that.” Cristina asserts with her fork in the air, “Someone needs to do something. I’m bored and there is no one to cut.”

“That’s because you pissed off Hahn. She gave everyone orders to send you on lab runs.” Meredith grins, pleased with someone else’s pain.

“It wasn’t even that big of a deal and I saved the guy’s life. Really she should be thanking me if you think about it. I mean it’s not like she was going to step up and-”

“You stole her patient out from under her. That’s almost as bad as-” Alex drops off pointedly staring at Izzie.

“Yes but the difference is- my guy lived.” Cristina states gleefully as Izzie glares back at the table.

“I’m willing to trade. I’ve got Sloan and all he ever does is talk about Callie and the baby. I swear if I have to hear one more time about how pretty she looks when she’s doing this,” Izzie squishes her face, “or how cute she is when she sleeps…I’m going to rip my eyes out. She’s not that great. No one is that great plus she’s Callie so-” Izzie stops dead looking up at said woman in front of her. She completely missed everyone’s subtle hand gestures and head nods.

The residents quickly disperse leaving Izzie alone, Callie towering over her, one hand on her stomach and the other clutching her black purse, “Have you seen Mark?”

“No…” Izzie nearly gags, “Callie it was all in good fun, he’s driving-”

“Save it.” Callie holds up her hand. “I’m not interested in your backtracking. I have a baby working his way out of my body.” She turns and scans the room. She paged him six times, checked in with the nurses, called him three times and no one has seen Dr. Sloan in the last two hours. Her mind vividly dances to all the things he could be doing (things they haven’t managed in months) with all the women in all the places in the hospital but as far as she knows he’s been devoted and she doesn’t want to think about it being any other way. She has better things to be doing, like getting hooked up to a massive pain reliever.

“Callie!” Addison screeches jumping up from her seat and throwing the newspaper that was clutched in her hand onto Derek’s face.

“Hey.” She bites down on her lip and carefully waddles over trying not to knock anything over with her girth.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Mark? How’s my favorite nephew?” She rambles rubbing Callie’s stomach.

“I think it’s time.”

“For?” Addison removes her glasses and sets them on the table with a smile.

“It’s time.”

“Oh! Oh. Right, well give me the basics and we’ll get you all set up. Walk with me.” She extends her arm which Callie clutches to giving Derek a small wave goodbye as he busies himself with the lonely newspaper. He’ll check in later.
 

“How’s she doing?” Derek asks pacing in front of Addison nearly two hours later.

“How do you think she’s doing?” Addison quips, unable to bite her tongue.

“Right.” He nods.

“Did you find Mark?” She clicks the pen she pulled from her pocket and scratches something down on the chart in front of her before looking over her shoulder and ensuring that Callie’s door is closed.

“I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Great. Did you call him?” She snaps the chart shut and he winces in fear of being the punching bag.

“Been trying. I sent O’Malley to check all of the on call rooms. I didn’t want to walk in on anything.”

“You think-”

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head, “Maybe he’s freaking out somewhere but I don’t think he knows so I really can’t expect or explain anything.”

“I’m going to kill him when you find him.”

“I have a feeling you’ll have to take a number.” Derek nods toward Callie’s door, “How much longer do I have?”

“A few hours but still hurry. I don’t need your lackadaisical approach on this one.”

“Yes…honey.” He clenches his jaw, “Oh Happy Valentine’s Day by the way. I was thinking-”

She shakes her head, “Derek I’m working. Find Mark, we can talk later.”

“Yeah.” He pinches his brow as soon as she stamps away knowing full well that if his friend doesn’t pull his head out of his ass and show up then both of them will be paying the price. With a sigh and a disheartened frown he pulls his phone out and dials again completely expecting to get voicemail. “Hello?”

“Hey man.” Mark’s voice responds.

“Where the hell have you been?” Derek demands giving Addison a thumbs up when she peeks through the blinds.

“Getting Callie’s Valentine’s present. Listen to this. I got some old guy to give us his yacht for the night. How cool is that? I’m going to make her dinner which should be hilarious…but she needs to laugh…Derek?”

“You need to get here now.”

“I have the rest of the day off. I cleared it with Richard-”

“It’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“God…” Derek mumbles, “It’s show time so run back to your place, grab a few things and get down here.”

“But…it’s too early. She’s only…Are you sure?”

“Well she’s in a gown and Addison seems convinced that your son is coming out today so maybe you could try and grace us with your presence before they kill me.” Derek snaps his phone shut without a goodbye and slips behind the closed door to see Callie grasping Addison’s hand tightly. His wife appears to be on the verge of tears and the monitors beep with glee as Callie’s contraction peeks.

“He’s on his way.”

“He’s a dead man.” Callie mumbles catching her breath.
 

“Don’t talk to me! You did this!” Callie shouts three hours later in between pushes. She vaguely heard Mark whispering a good job in her ear as she lies propped up on his chest but she couldn’t care less.

“Nice work Callie, take a second. Breathe.” Addison instructs looking up.

“She can say it?” Mark teases.

“Someone make him leave!” Callie pleads bearing down again.

“Mark, I advise that you just shut up and let her squeeze the hell out of your hands.” Addison warns looking up at him, “Ok, we’re crowning. I can see the top of his head Cal. Not too much further to go.”

“Oh…” Callie whimpers almost purposely trying to crush Mark’s hand.

“Big head.” Mark remarks looking up at the mirror on the ceiling. Addison glares at him and he frowns, “He has a lot of hair baby, your hair. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not beautiful when you’re pushing it out!” Callie screams giving way for another push seconds later. They clamber on slowly, Callie really wishing that the stupid medication hadn’t seemingly worn off as she can feel everything, Mark smiling like an idiot behind her and Addison doing her best to stay professional as she feels excitement course through her body.

“Ok, Callie. I’ve got it from here.” Addison announces and seconds later they hear very powerful lungs screaming loudly. She hands the infant off to the nurse who immediately places him against Callie’s chest.

“He’s amazing.” Mark swells with pride, not at all bothered by the fact that his son could really use a bath. Callie merely sighs as the tears travel down her cheeks. He’s finally here and he’ll be gone entirely too soon but they don’t know that. No one ever considers how little time is left.

She traces his plump pink lips hours later and brushes the already curled edges of his jet black hair back. She can’t help but smile as she looks at Mark. In this moment it all feels okay. Their little family, all together, exhausted and in pain but together.

“Cal?”

“Hhrrmmm?”

“I love you so much.” He states softly watching her with their son. The adoring way she touches his tiny cheeks and the manner in which she straightens the fuzzy green blanket around his body culminate into a warm, glowing feeling the likes of which Mark has never experienced before in his life. This is all new. Addison has nothing on this and he’s pretty sure that she never shined this brightly with that idiot George.

“I love you too.”
 

They’ll tell their son that they love him far more than they’ll ever mutter it to each other in the coming months but it’s there whatever it means. Eventually the snug feeling will give way to annoyance as Darren refuses to breastfeed and sleep during the night without being walked around the apartment constantly. They’ll tell themselves every day that this is it and their “situation” won’t be addressed again until Callie is being held upright by a crew of Cristina, Addison and Derek in a darkened hallway. She’ll never question his devotion in the coming months, she’ll be too busy with her son to care and he’ll never debate whether or not this is a good idea until it’s too late. Until he’s across the street at Joe’s far more drunk than anyone should be at ten in the morning.

Every one around them will be convinced that they are in this for good; that they found their soul mate in this wacky, unforgiving world but they’ll know the truth. In the late nights when Darren’s screams fill their heads they’ll know that they’re together for him primarily and for themselves secondarily. And when everything falls apart on that humid, sticky summer morning it will be shown just how unstable Mark and Callie are together.

On June 27th they won’t be able to save each other from the rolling river of guilt and pain. No one will.