This is a one-shot about Callie after Mark's death. Please review!
The rain begins halfway through the burial.
Dying sucks. But remembering dying, remembering other people die, is hell. And that's all this is.
It's Seattle, so of course it should rain. It makes sense that it should rain in Seattle. There's never nice weather, but you'd think it could hold off an hour or so, at least so we can bury him.
They buried her over a month ago. She's beside him, and he'll be beside her. Forever, the way they should be, the way they should have been alive, too, not unhappy and miserable apart.
The first drops fall on me as the priest begins saying the Lord's Prayer. "Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed by Thy name."
The rain couldn't fucking wait until we were gone. It seems like a disservice to him. To her. Her plot is already covered in grass, the churned earth blanketed and sparse green. There is going to be a headstone, a special one, for the both of them.
"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done."
I want to leave, but I can't. I want to leave, but I don't want to leave him. I never want to leave him.
His funeral had been nice. The priest preached out of Romans. I hadn't even known he was religious. It turns out, he had been a member of a Methodist church, but attended casually. I don't know about her. She might have been a Buddhist, a Christian, a Muslim, an agnostic, but I don't know.
"On Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."
The tears sting my eyes, and I'm reluctantly grateful to the rain for covering them. I hold Sofia closer against the weather. She closes her eyes. She doesn't realize. She doesn't realize how badly Mommy's life has fallen apart.
Arizona didn't come.
Derek stands next to me, his eyes red and swollen with tears. Jackson wipes his nose and eyes, and I hear him emit a quiet sob.
"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
The floodgates open and I am sobbing, sobbing as hard as I did when George died. In the books and in the movies they make it seem like grief makes you numb, that mourning is just something you get through and can't really feel. They make it seem like you're in shock, too dumb to detect the gaping hole in your heart. It's a lie. I feel every bit of this.
steps forward and takes Sofia from my arms, to let me miss my friend in peace. She doesn't know, she doesn't know her father is dead. She doesn't understand. She will. She lost part of Mommy today, too.
"For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen."
They'll bury him later. After we leave. It's what he wanted.
My friend, my brother, the person I need, is gone.
The priest steps back to give us time to grieve. The entourage dressed in black steps aside and lets me go to the front. Like I'm a widow. Maybe I am. I've buried people before. My abuelos, my cousins, George. George, sweet, kind George who didn't deserve to die, not at all. George, who I hated for so long. George's death had been hard. But not like this. Never like this.
"Is he okay? Did he code?" The blood pulses in my veins.
"Just come see," Jackson says, leading me down the hall.
"God, Where the hell is Shepherd? Avery, tell me what's going on!"
"Just see-" We're in front of his room. Jackson points.
He's sitting up. He's alive, he's okay, he's okay, he's okay. He grins. "Torres! Where've you been?"
The fucking surge.
I touch the wooden casket, the dark walnut glossy underneath my fingers. Inside, I know from the viewing, is navy blue satin lining, and on top, Mark Sloan, dressed in the suit he wore when Arizona and I married. They had asked Derek and I to pick the flowers for his funeral. When we couldn't bring ourselves to do it, Jackson did for us. They are red roses and white carnations. They match his clothes. He wears a red tie.
I break down on the casket, crying on it. Nobody says a word, nobody even moves for what seems like eons, for infinities. Then Meredith moves forward and stands next to me. Sofia is barely awake, but she looks down at the casket with innocent eyes.
The fucking rain is coming down harder now, and Owen steps forward to put his arms around me, to guide me away, but it feels wrong. Because it had been Mark all those times to comfort me, to show me the way. I shrug his hands off my shoulders and he steps back respectfully. I take a shaky breath.
He's gone, he's gone, he's gone.
I need him here. He would know what to do for Arizona, he needs to hold his daughter.
He's buried next to Lexie. He's buried next to her and they are together now, in a romantic, star-crossed tragic way, but I wish it were differently. I need them both here.
Derek and Jackson stand on either side of me again, and slowly they help me up, and lead me away. I let them. They understand. Owen doesn't feel what I do, but they do. They steady me from falling. They cry with me.
I'll take care of our little girl, Mark. I promise.