The sound of voices came first, as he was used to. He often heard snippets of conversation as he drifted in and out of consciousness- Derek and the chief talking about his treatment, or Jackson giving him all the thanks he would never show if he thought he could be heard. But this time it felt different. For starters it seemed as though he'd been under for longer- like it had been days rather than hours since he was awake enough to hear. And then there was the feeling. No more was the dread that seeped through him when he became aware of Callie crying softly into his bed sheets, or the ache that he felt in his soul knowing that he was causing so much misery. This time he felt oddly at peace, and as the rest of his senses came to him he felt happiness from the thrum of conversation in the distance.
He scrunched up his eyes, and was more than surprised when the hand he brought to his face to rub them came with ease, and there were no wires coming out of his arm. Had he been moved?
A gasp from beside him made him register that he was being touched. A hand holding his, and another on his forearm squeezing as though from anticipation, the way Lexie's would when they watched drama on TV, when his life was perfect. He could picture the whole scene so clearly now; could remember how she'd bite her lip, and how the apples of her cheeks appeared more pronounced in the half light from the screen. The heart-warming fondness the memory provoked made him sink down in the bed he appeared to be in once more, content to just remember for a while, and enjoy the contact he felt down his left arm. The memory seemed incredibly sharp, all the details were there down to the sound her breath.
"Mark?"
His breath hitched. He'd heard her speak, but not in his head. The Lexie he remembered was still, her lips had not moved. This voice was immediate; beside him. He itched to open his eyes- find the source of the voice, but he was afraid of shattering the illusion.
"Lexie" he sighed, rolling towards the voice and bringing his hands together with 'hers'. The sound of the woman's breath changed- became shaky and inconsistent and, his fantasy lost, Mark's eyes fluttered open of their own accord, concerned for this woman who evoked such pleasant memories.
What he saw made his world stop. It was her. Lexie was there, holding his hand. Smiling at him with tears rolling down her face. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. This was new, impossible. He'd had hallucinations before and this wasn't one. She put a hand on the side of his face and beamed at him. He didn't care how she was there, he didn't care why. All he knew was that this was all he could ever want. There was a time when he'd do anything for that smile. He rode the euphoria he gained from making her smile like that for days.
Mark sat up, eyes never straying from her face.
"You're here" she choked out with a laugh as he covered her hand with his, realisation dawning on him. She was practically glowing, brown hair tumbling over her shoulders, skin bright and entire composure more relaxed and happy than he had seen her in a long, long time. Warmth coursed through him and he pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around her. He felt her heartbeat against his chest as he tucked his face into her neck.
"I came as soon as I could"