Rain

The Letter

Sometimes, the key to making progress is to recognize how to take that very first step. Then you start your journey. You hope for the best and you stick with it, day in and day out. Even if you're tired, even if you want to walk away. You don't. Because you are a pioneer. But nobody ever said it'd be easy.
-Meredith Grey

Emily leaned into the couch as Mark sat down beside her, opening up the newspaper. He gave her a steaming cup of coffee which she took happily.
"Morning," he whispered, pecking her mouth and she smiled, leaning against him as she read Tom's journal. Callie was cleaning the fry pan as she read. It was times like this where it felt like it was just a perfectly normal morning. They were talking about some donation of twenty-five million dollars but Emily couldn't help but lose herself in the loopy scrawl in Tom's journal.
.
"Derek, I thought you were fired." Emily remarked and he laughed. "You're not someone who takes no for an answer, do you?"
"You know it," he smiled. "How're you?"
"I'm sick of people saying that," she said bluntly, sipping her coffee. "Mark's treating me like glass. And all he does is... treat me like a princess and I love it. But I miss the time when he treated me like a person. And I'm fine. I'm feeling better." Derek looked at her in concern and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I just want to be normal," she huffed frustratedly and he traced small circles with his thumb.
"He's just scared you're going to break. Obviously you aren't going to but he's Mark. You're the first real thing he's ever had and he doesn't want to mess it up."
"I'm going to mess it up first," she said and he looked at her. "I've messed up, Derek. Really bad,"
"You'll get through it, okay?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him. "You're a strong woman but I worry. You're always going to be Noah's little sister to me and I care about you because you're you."
"Thanks, Derek," she mumbled. They made their way to the nurse's station where he picked up his charts. Jackson glanced at them and said a quick greeting before continuing on with his day. "I've got to go before I'm late for rounds. Bailey will kill me if I am."
"True. I'll talk to you later." Shaking her head slightly, she turned around and took out his journal, turning to the page she was on. Walking slowly towards the resident's lounge, she continued reading.
Dear lovely journal,
Guess what?
She stopped and read the first few sentences ahead:
I just found out that my best friend - the amazing Emily Moore - is pregnant. Like damn! I'm going to be an uncle.
Her heart leapt to her throat. It had a been a while between the entries. The first one was when she was the wedding and the next was the day after she told him she was pregnant.
I wonder what she'll be. Or he, I suppose. I think a good name would be Tom, after me of course. But seriously, I love the name Liam or Ryleigh. I like that name for a girl. But I'm an uncle and it's so exciting that I can't express it. The happiness I feel for both Emily and Mark, who I've yet to meet is like my caffeine. I can't even bare to feel sad anymore. It's a great time for romance, I think.
In other words, we've found the perfect place for the proposal. Boston has some good beaches, so we're planning the perfect spot. I cannot wait to see Ella's reaction.
Emily's voice is really coming along. She's memorized the chords for the song and she's just got that natural talent. I think if being a surgeon fails she could go into the music biz. I make her out to be too perfect. She's not, I swear. Okay, maybe just a little bit.
Signing out, your author and only friend,
Tom
Her throat ached. Red trailing down - knives stabbing into her - Tom's fading pulse. Her hand reached to press against her abdomen as if recalling the memory itself but she shook it off. She had a therapist to see.
.
"Izzie?" Her breath caught in her throat when she went into the clinic. "What-" She came up to the blonde and hugged her tightly. "Oh, my god you're safe." Izzie hugged her back. They parted and Emily slugged her on the arm.
"Ow! What is your problem, Em?" the blonde asked and Emily glared at her. "Wait, you're back."
"Clearly," she retorted and crossed her arms. "We wondered where you were - we were worried sick about you. Do you know how Alex's been? Have you talked to him?" The brunette rapid fired the questions and Izzie didn't reply until she finished. "Does he even know you're here?" the woman added softly.
"Look. I'm sorry but I've just been in Chehalis with my mom. I'm still getting my treatments," she held a hand up to cut Emily off. "But my old teacher, he's taken a fall and I asked Derek to take a look at him. But enough about me, I heard what happened about in Boston. Are you-"
"Fine. I'm going to a shrink, it's working and I'm great."
"Tom died, didn't he? They didn't mention it in the news but the nurses, the gossip." Emily swallowed a lump in her throat and looked away. "I'm sorry, Em,"
"Thanks. I - please just talk to Alex."
"He doesn't want to talk to me anyway."
"Maybe you have to make the first move this time." She spotted a patient waving at her and squeezed Izzie's arm. "I have to. But please, come home." Izzie's smile was an empty promise but Emily chose to believe in the good.
.
"Wanna go grab lunch later?" murmured Mark, kissing the side of her head as she sipped her coffee. Looking at her boyfriend, she arched her eyebrows.
"Can't right now, I'm on my way to get my patients labs. If they're good, I get to scrub in," she said.
"Well, I didn't say now, but-"
"Also, I promised lunch with Mer. It's her first day back."
"Dinner tonight, then," he said and she smiled slightly as Callie came up to them and joined them as they walked to the lobby.
"What should I get for Arizona's birthday?" the ortho surgeon said and Emily shrugged. "Come on! I didn't even know it was Friday and now I have to get a gift." The brunette and her boyfriend both shared looks. "What are you getting her for her birthday?"
"A scrub cap," Emily said. "I ordered one online, should be here Friday morning." Callie groaned at that.
"That's such a good idea! But I can't take it because you took it. Ugh, Mark-"
"Don't ask me. I was just planning on buying Robbins a bottle of wine." The Latina glared at the plastics surgeon as they reached the lobby. "We needa ask Bailey about her trauma patient. If the patient is good to go, you can scrub in."
Spotting the general surgeon at the nurse's station, they approached. Emily sipped on her coffee, throwing it away before shoving her hands in her lab coat pockets.
"Hey, is your trauma patient stable for skin grafting?"
"The one with the pancreatic duct rupture," Callie elaborated. Bailey was about to respond when-
"Miranda."
"Oh, Adele." Turning, the three surgeons all turned to see the Chief's wife strutting up to them. Bailey grinned, greeting the woman. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I sent the Chief into surgery. Do you want me to-"
"What I want is for you to tell me the truth. Are you having an affair with my husband?" Blinking, Emily and Callie both looked to Mark as the two women held a stare-off for a moment. The three stood there awkwardly, waiting for an answer on the trauma patient. Emily bit her lip, turning to hide her expression.
"I - I am not having an affair with your husband."
"I saw the way you handled him just now."
"I did not handle him. I j-" Bailey stopped herself before she could dig herself into a deeper hole. "There was no handle - We work together." The incredulous smile said everything. Emily had never seen her former resident so put on the spot before Adele Webber.
"You spend every waking moment together. You finish each other's sentences. You read each other's minds. You're more married to that man than I am." Emily made a face and nodded. Looping her arm through Mark's, she sighed as Callie took a step forward. Letting her head droop, Emily knew Callie was going to say something, something to make this more awkward than it had to be.
"Yeah, but that's just because they're husband and work-wife."
Okay, that wasn't so bad. It made sense in a way but Bailey rounded on Callie, eyes wide, anyway. "Excuse me?"
"The Chief's your work-husband, and you're his work-wife. You look out for each other. You take care of each other. There's nothing wrong with it. It's like me and Sloan." Mark's face scrunched up.
"Excuse me?"
"Nobody's talking to you." Offended, Mark looked around to see if anyone else witnessed this great assault on his manhood. "He's my work-husband, but he has a girlfriend, and I have a girlfriend. But there's nothing going on between us."
"There was at one point-"
"You're not helping."
"Neither one of you are helping," Bailey hissed under her breath to shut them up. "Adele, I promise there is nothing going on."
"Something is going on, because he hasn't been in bed all week."
"What?"
"Really?" Adele looked at Mark and with a forced smile on her face, Emily smacked him right on the arm. "Ow!"
"That wasn't even that hard," Emily whispered through clenched teeth. His eyebrows knitted together and she widened her eyes exponentially, glancing at Adele and Bailey out of the corner of her eye. He cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head and she responded by glaring straight into his soul. Scolded like a toddler, he pouted and she smiled, satisfied.
"The last time he acted like this - disappearing, sleeping at the hospital every night - he was with Ellis Grey. He may not be having an affair with you-"
"He's not. I promise you. I promise you, he's not." Adele glanced at the trio again, waiting off to the side. Emily and Callie distracted themselves - taking out their notepad and going on their phone respectively - while Mark, ever the gossip, gave the woman a smile.
"Okay. But wife-wife to work-wife, someone in this hospital is sleeping with our husband." With that, she spun around and walked off. Bailey blinked after her before turning to look at the three.
"So, who do we think it is?" Mark asked and Emily lightly slapped him once more.
"What was I talking about again?" Bailey asked and Callie let her phone drop back into her pocket.
"Your pancreatic duct rupture patient. If they're stable enough for a skin graft." Bailey blinked multiple times.
"Paul Chang," Emily cleared her throat, fist in front of her mouth and Bailey held up a finger.
"Right, right. Paul Chang. Yes, he is stable." Nodding, the three left the still-shocked surgeon alone.
"Did that really just happen?" Callie muttered and Mark shrugged. "Moore, go book an O.R. I needa find a present for Arizona." Nodding, she went to go off but Mark grabbed her wrist.
"What?" He pecked her lips and she wrinkled her nose at him. Placing her palms flat against his face, she whispered, "Promise me that if I ever get married to you, I never have to know your work-wife. When I'm an attending, I am your work-wife."
"I'm counting on it. Now, go get our O.R." Smiling, she pulled away and walked down the hall.
.
Callie and Mark walked past her table as Emily chewed thoughtfully on her cookie. Meredith was eating beside her peacefully and for once it seemed to be a normal lunch. In her mind, she could imagine her friends here and in Boston joining together to have one big extravaganza of a lunch. Cristina and Alex joined them, and greeted them with a few greetings.
"Hey, Alex," she said before her eyes darted to Cristina. "Hey, Cristina. How's your present?"
"You mean Private Benjamin over there? Owen said she would surprise me. Well, guess what. Surprise! She doesn't know how to do surgery." Meredith grinned, stabbing her spoon into her yogurt as Alex bit his sandwich savagely. Letting her knee knock into his, she made him look at her and mouthed, Drinks? He nodded and took a big gulp of water.
"Leave her alone. It's her first day," Alex piped up and they glanced at the attending's table. Mark was saying something to the new cardio head as Cristina pushed food around her plate with her fork. She glanced up at his words and narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you defending her? She went to state school."
"So did I," Alex exclaimed, offended.
"Well, she's skinny and blonde."
"So's Mer."
"Well, she's annoying."
"So are you." Emily took a drink of her coffee and nearly choked at his reply. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she shared a glance with Meredith before Cristina continued.
"Where's your wife, by the way?"
"Cristina," Emily said in a low warning tone as Meredith switched the topic to Altman and Hunt. It worked for a while before Cristina returned to the topic of Izzie.
"Have you even talked to Izzie yet? I mean, has anyone talked to her?" Alex lowered his sandwich and glared at her.
"You know what? No one's allowed to talk about Izzie while I eat," he snapped and chewed angrily. There were a few moments of silence filled by chewing before she added:
"Am I the only one concerned here?" He slammed the tray that held his food, dropping his sandwich and taking off. Rubbing her temple, Emily watched him go as Meredith sent Cristina a look.
"What?"
"It's my first day back. I just wanted to have a nice, normal lunch together," Meredith explained as Alex exited the cafeteria.
"Oh, yeah? Well, take a look around. Nothing's normal." The asian woman brought another bite to her mouth as Emily did so. She realized that her friend was right, painfully so. George and Izzie weren't with them anymore; the Mercy Westers inhabited a table on the far side of the room; there were new attendings. Cristina was right. Nothing's the same. Finishing her lunch, she wiped at her mouth with a napkin.
"Cristina's right," Emily murmured and pushed herself up. The two glanced at her. "I've got to go talk to Mark about something," she said and Meredith rested a hand on her stiff forearms where they braced her against the table. She looked at her blonde friend and there was a glint on kindness - not sympathy or pity. "See you later,"
"Bye." Cristina cracked open her bottle of water and Meredith's hand fell away as she put away her tray of food, dumping the plastic containers in the trash. Jackson sent a smile her way and she smiled back before approaching the attendings table hesitantly - unaware all the while of the green gaze burning into her back. Arizona saw her first and smiled encouragingly, sipping her soda happily. Callie turned around when she saw her girlfriend smile and her own smile appeared.
"Hey, Em. Come here."
"I just needed to talk to Mark," she said and her boyfriend turned to the blonde next to him. "Mark, can I-"
"Hunt, are you going to introduce me?" the blonde piped up and Emily snapped her mouth shut. Owen flushed and put down his coffee. "Nevermind. Teddy Altman, head of cardio."
"Right." She stuck out a hand to shake. "Emily Moore," said the brunette. The two shook hands before Emily returned her focus to Mark. His eyes were still glinting from the laugh that was still in his voice and she sighed internally, soft smile on her lips. Leaning down, she curled her fingers against his head and kissed his mouth. The taste of apples was left on her lips as he pecked her again. "I really need to tell you something," she murmured. Callie sent them curious glances before leaning over to talk to Arizona. Taylor coughed quietly and Emily's eyes flitted to him. He merely blinked up at her before biting into his sandwich.
"So, what about that soccer game?" the trauma surgeon asked awkwardly as Mark gave them a sweeping glance.
"Do you need me now? Teddy was just talking about Hunt and her's soccer tournament back in Iraq." He reached up to hold her hand, "Hey, if you seriously need me I can just go. You're more important." The hollowness in her chest grew at how happy he was. The smile that crinkled his eyes, the lightness in his voice. He had found his place. He was happy. "You know I love you, right? You can tell me anything."
She searched his face before looking down to her shoes. "Yeah. I love you, too," she finally whispered and kissed him one last time. "Maybe later." He squeezed her hand.
"Whenever you're ready."
.
"You're going to have to open up at some point. Besides, your insurance only covers the next three sessions so I'm going to have to offer you an ultimatum. Either you get your act together or I go to the Chief," Dr. Wyatt said and Emily fiddled with the journal in her hands. Deciding to finally admit what happened, she opened the journal to the page where she folded the corner.
"There was a building collapse," said the surgeon, "and this lady said her children were still in there with their dad. I wanted to go in, we both did."
"You and Tom?"
She nodded. "We were told it wasn't safe so we backed off. Until her daughter came out and found us." Her mind flew back to Rebecca in her blue shirt. What happened to her? Her father was dead, she was probably still coping. She wondered if her mother was still alive. "But then she went back in. We had no choice."
"You went back in to save her."
"And then we found them. The father - he had a dislocated shoulder, a deep lac on his scalp and weak breath sounds. We had to evac quickly so Tom sent the kids out first before we began moving him." Her breath hitched, reliving every second of that day. "We moved him to the ground floor."
"Then?"
"We switched places." Her eyes widened and she looked up at her doctor. "He wanted to set the shoulder and I - I let him. I didn't - it was so stupid and we should've... we should've just left." Tears began spilling over her cheeks and she blinked repeatedly as she pressed her hands together in front of her lips. "We were too late. The building was too unstable and I should've know. I should have said we needed to leave because we weren't supposed to be in there in the first place. But I didn't and then - then the fl-floor collapsed and he-" She buried her face, guilt and shame eating her alive- "he took my place." Her voice nearly died out, high-pitched and soft as she heard the crack of his spine. Felt his cold hand in his. Saw the moment he died.
Dr. Wyatt handed her a box of tissues but she ignored them to continue. "I should've been the one crushed under the concrete. If h-he didn't take my place, he would still be alive." Her face was red with heat as she tried to breathe and stop the flood of tears that wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. "I killed Tom."
"No, you didn't." Dr. Wyatt was calm, firm. But her words were barely heard. Emily's lip trembled and the bruising in her throat strangled her as she saw his pale face. She could hear herself, voice raw with pain. Bending over, she covered her face with her hands as Dr. Wyatt had moved to sit beside her on the couch, wrapping her in an awkward hug.
"He was really - really looking forward to being an uncle. He told me in this journal." Dr. Wyatt looked at her, blue eyes softer than normal. Emily met her gaze with glossy eyes. "There's more than what I said. Not a lot of people know, not even Mark."
"What is it?" her doctor asked, offering a tissue that she took and wiped her nose with.
"I feel so weak. How can I not tell the man that I love that we were going to have a kid before a building fell on me? You know he didn't even know I was pregnant? I wanted to tell him over the phone or something but we could never catch each other."
"You've been very strong for a very long time. That does not make you weak, it makes you exhausted. It makes you the kind of exhausted that a person shouldn't have to be. And the longer you keep the secret, the harder it'll be on both of you."
"But, he's so happy."
"And you need to be happy, too. You need to be safe, and comfortable, and he will understand that if everything you've ever said about him is true," Dr. Wyatt said and Emily looked to her. "Have you gone through that box yet?"
"No."
"Then do it. You've made tremendous progress today, Emily. Go through that box. Live it again. The happiness he gave you, the mark he left. That will never fade. Tom may be gone, but he will never be forgotten."
.
Emily was drinking in a booth with Alex and Meredith. She sat next to Alex, finishing her beer as Meredith looked at them both nervously. They both just stared emptily in front of them as she fidgeted.
"I think she'll be back," the blonde commented in hopes that it'd cheer Alex up but he just finished his drink and settled the glass back on the table. "You want to keep drinking?" she addressed it to both of them and they nodded. Once she had left, Emily took a hold of Alex's hand. His fingers were limp until she intertwined them with hers.
He didn't say anything, just kept staring and she didn't say anything either. She just thought about what her doctor said. Dr. Wyatt suggested telling Mark, of course she knew that. She's known that since it happened, but there was the gag that always tied her tongue when she sas him.
"I miscarried Mark's kid," she admitted softly and there was no reaction except the slightest squeeze in their joined hands.
"She thought I got her fired." Another squeeze. They were silent for a long while until Meredith came back with their drinks.
"Here." There were shots of tequila. Grabbing it roughly, she tipped it back into her throat before slamming it down as Alex did the same. "Cristina was right. Nothing's normal anymore. George is dead, Izzie is gone, you lost your best friend. Everything's different." There was something else in the blonde's tone that was meant to suggest something else but neither of them replied as Meredith sipped on her margarita. Signalling to a bartender, she asked for more tequila. They brought a whole bottle.
Emily reached forward and poured hefty amounts for the both of them. Tipping it back, she poured another. Alex kept pace with her until half the bottle was gone.
Alex took his turn to pour another shot. Emily's vision was blurry and her head pulsed to the beat of the music as Meredith said something she didn't hear. Shaking her head slightly, her hand brushed against her empty glass as Alex reached forward for the the bottle again.
.
When she woke up in her bed the next morning with a pounding headache, she had an aching clarity of last night. Alex knew. Before Mark. She had to tell him. She had to tell him today. If she was doing one thing, it was this.
Getting up, she looked at her bedside table where her necklace rested near the clock. She was just glad she didn't have to work. A glass of water sat beside it with a few pills. A note beside it was written in Mark's neat writing.
Take it. I had to drag you out of Joe's last night.
Groaning, she took the pills and swallowed it with a swig of water before getting up and stumbling to the bathroom. She took a quick, steaming shower before changing into a pair of comfy clothes. After she made a quick slice of toast, she wandered around the apartment before stopping in front of the box. Tom's name had faded slightly as she crouched down in front of it. Picking it up, she brought it with her to the couch and began rifling through it.
The first thing was a letter with her name on it. It was taped shut and it seemed unopened. The envelope was still crisp and white. Brushing a hand across the surface, she gently pried the tape off and took out the letter. Unfolding it, paragraphs of black ink appeared in front of her eyes.
Hey Em,
So, I hope you never have to read this letter soon because it can only mean one thing. That I died too soon and I've left you behind. Whatever the future may bring, I pray that you aren't opening it while we're both still young.
Anyway, wow. Should I just start from the beginning? Yeah, maybe I should. If you can recall, we met when I was eagerly sucking up to your brother with his charts and he instead gave me the task of showing you around. I admit, I wasn't thrilled because I really wanted to scrub in on a surgery. I just hid it surprisingly well.
But then I learned that you're... well, you. You laughed at my shit jokes, basically read my thoughts and you were basically me. Just without the parts, you know? At first, I considered ditching you, but I stuck it out in the end and I'm glad I did. Hopefully you don't kill me for that little tidbit.
And I wanted to stitch you in.
You've become such a big part of my life. You'll always be the first person to go to - I mean, I went to you for the proposal - and I know you'll always be there to support me. That's your nature, and that's also why I adore you so much. And I feel it's important to tell you because life is a whirlwind of change. I mean, you're pregnant, your brother is my mentor, George died... Nothing is simple. Everything's always gonna be messy because that's just how life is. It'd be boring if it wasn't. I might not get the chance to tell you tomorrow, or the day after how much you mean to me. Hell, we might die tomorrow. Which is why I'm writing this letter. If you survive, if you outlive me, all my feelings about you, my sister, are in this box.
I had a patient the other day while you were at home because you still thought you had the flu. There was a fire in an old care home and it was all hands on deck no matter your specialty. I had to cover a pair of old friends who couldn't stand being apart. They never stayed apart until they had surgery. One of them died on the table and left such a long, emotional letter that I had to read out to the survivor because he was too weak to even move. And I thought, huh, this wasn't too bad an idea and thus this was born. I am inspired by pain and death.
You'd say I'm terrible, but don't worry, in the afterlife, I already know.
Yes, that was sad and yes, the man died two days later surrounded by family but he was never the same. Not after his best friend died. But I want us to be like that.
Not dead, that's not the point I wanted to get across.
But what I mean is, when I imagine myself a hundred years old, I know you'll be there by my side.
The only reason I know that is because you're a force of nature already and I know you aren't going to slow down, ever.
But maybe that won't happen. Maybe what we want won't be enough because life has a funny way - or not so funny way - of fucking everything up. Maybe you'll be gone tomorrow and we'll never have a chance to say goodbye and it won't be okay. Losing someone never is.
Then... there's this one last point I have. Okay, look. Here's the thing. It doesn't matter if we have one more day to laugh our asses off, or two days or a hundred. What matters is that we spent it doing what we do best. Lounging around doing nothing and eating way too much food.
But... if somewhere down the road, if we jump across the chasm and you aren't with me on the other side, I just want you to know that I'll always wish for your happiness. You deserve it and I hope you and Mark have a wonderful life together, even if it doesn't include me.
I know neither of us have ever said it because that would lead to awkward conversations and all that, but I think I get leeway because I'm dead.
I think we've made each other better. You've taught me how to open my hearts to others, care for patients and work hard for the people I love - case in point, Ella. And I know you've taught me to put others before myself, maybe not to the extreme as you do, but to go the extra mile.
And I hope I taught you, too. Maybe to be a bit more stubborn, more carefree and maybe, in the wake of my death, how to be strong when all you want to do is to fall apart. We've nurtured each other. We've grown and I'll always thank you for that. I'll always thank you for everything you've done for me.
I want us to raise our families side by side, I want us to be great together. Our short friendship hasn't reached any obstacles yet, but I know they will. Just you wait, Em, we'll get through them. Even if it means fighting like hell to survive.
Because what's life without a good fight?
I love you. You're my sister, and you're my family. I love you.
-Tom
Tears balanced on the tips of her lashes, each one's life ending as it splashed against the paper. The ink ran and she placed the precious letter on the table. A bittersweet smile crossed her face as she continued to look through the box. It was pretty empty except for a thick book full of plastic slips. Frowning, she sniffed and grabbed it, opening it up to reveal glorious pictures. She vaguely remembered that he loved taking pictures but never noticed when she was always busy doing other things.
The first page was of him in med school with Ella. There were some lovely scenic shots. She admired each one. More of Ella, them graduating med school, then Matthew and Davin entered the mix. Many pictures of surgeries, foods and just plain sneaky and silly shots filled the pages and she smiled fondly at every one. Finally, she reached around the middle of the book. There she was, her first appearance.
She was wearing scrubs and her lab coat. Her then-long hair was tied up in a low ponytail as she leaned over to give a nurse a chart. He must've managed to take a shot with his new camera. Then there was a few of them at lunch. She flipped through the hospital shots, admiring his talent of knowing how to work the lights. Turning another page, she gasped at the beauty. It was during the camping trip for sure. Beautiful sunsets and sunrises, pictures of animals and flowers filled pages with beautiful, vibrant colors. There were pictures of her playing with her nephews and one specific time at Ollie's birthday where icing decorated her face instead of the cake.
The memory brought a stab of pain that ebbed and flowed around her chest as she closed the book with care, standing up and putting it away in a bookshelf where she could open it again later. Returning to the box, she was about to go through it more when the door clicked. Looking up, she watched as Mark came in.
"Hey." He smiled. "How's Sleeping Beauty?" She flushed at his expression, but was unable to smile. Her resolve strengthened and she swallowed. Clasping her hands in front of her, she walked around the couch as he settled down some groceries on the counter. Taking out the orange juice, he glanced over his shoulder.
"I'm doing good. But, Mark, I need to tell you something."
"Yeah?" Her fingers fiddled with the rings on her neck and she bit her lip. "What is it? Are you hurt?" She looked up to him and her eyes were wide and apologetic, but he didn't know why. Her mouth was turned into a frown and she tried to find some solace in his face. "Em? You're worrying me."
"I love you, okay? And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry that I couldn't open up to you about Tom. I'm sorry about a lot of things but I'm telling you now." He frowned, tucking a short curl behind her ear and kissing her mouth chastely. "I - you just seemed to happy that I was back that I didn't want to ruin it." One by one, the bricks fell around her heart and it was laid bare as she placed it carefully in his hands. Her voice shook and her eyes shone in the light.
"Hey, hey, hey," he whispered, brushing the tears away, "you can tell me." She swallowed a lump at the back of her throat. He lowered his head to touch her forehead with his and their breaths mingled as she held onto his hands tightly.
"You missed so many calls," she whispered back and he made a noise. He'd been piloting the Chief's new O.R. board system or whatever. It took up most of his time which meant he missed more calls than ever. He didn't even manage to find the time between surgeries, catching up on charts and the pilot to call his girlfriend. "And then it happened and I couldn't tell you."
"Tell me what?" he prompted gently, kissing her forehead and she finally raised her head. Her hazel eyes, the ones he found so beautiful, were full of unshed tears.
"We were going to have a kid." Her voice was breathy and quiet. "And then I lost it in the building collapse. It was only six weeks." Her chest was tight as she hugged herself, tears not yet shedding but her voice shook. He froze, staring at her. Her hair hid her face but he could tell her shoulders were heavy with the burden. What do I do... he thought helplessly but his body made up a decision while his mind scrambled for an answer.
Immediately, his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close to his chest. Her arms enveloped his neck and she balanced on her toes. His hand pressed her head towards him and his heat seeped into her skin, making her blood warm as his other ran up and down her back in a soothing motion. Kissing her hair, he just continued to hug her tightly until finally she pulled back.
"I'm sorry." He brushed hair from her face and traced circles on her shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? You've been home for... months." Crap. He didn't mean to sound so accusatory. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and managed to look him in the eye.
"You were happy," she repeated, "So, so happy. I just wanted to heal before I could tell you I was broken. But..." she trailed off uselessly. "I'm sorry." Hugging her again, he kissed behind her ear and inhaled her scent. "It's my fault," she murmured distantly. "It's all my fault."
"Hey, no," he said firmly. "It isn't. We can try again, okay? Maybe in a year, or two. Or never, if that's what you want, alright?" Drawing back, she sniffed and rubbed her eyes.
"Yeah." A small flitter of a smile appeared on her face before growing. His thumb brushed against her cheek and she kissed him gently. "You don't ever leave me, okay?" She inhaled shakily, eyes tracing the curve of his nose. "You can't leave me."
"I can't promise that," he whispered and she closed her eyes, new tears streaming down her face. "But I can promise that I'll never leave if I can help it. I promise that I'll love you. I can promise you that. Okay?" Her eyes were adamantine gems, the color of a burnt sunset as she nodded.
"Okay."