A/N: None of the characters are mine, but all Shonda Rhimes'. Sorry for wrong spelling, I'm no native^^
Have fun :)
There was one moment, one moment, which seemed to last forever, but at the same time ended too soon. It was that one moment in which Mark saw Lexie leave her body, the moment he saw, how her eyes went empty and how her beautiful mouth, the mouth he so dearly wanted to kiss (and to kiss him back), fell open as her jaw relaxed.
Suddenly, everything he had wanted to say sounded wrong, even inside his head, for it could never have been enough to really make her see how much he loved her, how much he needed her, how much he wanted her to never give up fighting, and if they were stuck out here for weeks.
Suddenly, he felt himself bursting to tears, soundless, even though he was trying so hard to be strong. He doesn't wanted to cry, some part of him new, that he would need the fluid in a few hours time. But he couldn't stop himself, the tears just started pouring, they just started falling and he had no say in it.
Again, they were hurt. Hurt lovers. It happened all the time, over and over and over again. It wasn't like they could spend normal time together – there was always something that would hurt one of them, and through that one the other as well. But still, they loved each other. They always had, and he, after her death, would still love her, forever.
But they were hurt. Again. And this time, it couldn't be fixed. And he had missed his opportunities to tell her that this doesn't matter, that he doesn't care how much she hurt him, as long as she was still trying to put him back together.
As he reached out to her face, his shaking fingers touching her soft skin, he felt himself being pulled back through the memories of the last few days.
He saw Lexie telling him that she loved him. How her eyes were shining when she told him that, shining with emotions she held back for too long. He saw how her face had taken on that feverish look, saw how she was fighting for the words to describe her feelings acurately.
He saw her looking at him whenever she saw him after that – that embarrassed, scared look, that always made her appear like Bambi after his mother was shot. He saw her hurrying to avoid him. He saw her looking hopeful as he mentioned her speech to her, and how her face fell when he said that he „hadn't forgotten". How stupid had he been? They could've been happy, they could've spend some time together, for the last time.
Maybe she wouldn't even have died. Maybe she would've sat beside him in the plane, maybe she wouldn't have been sucked out through the end of the plane that came off. Maybe her eyes would still be shining, maybe her heart would still be beating …
He felt the pressure of the plane-wreck on himself instead of her, he realised how hard it became for him to breath – Lexie, the memories of her were suffocating him; for she had been his reason to live, the oxygen he needed to breathe and now she had gone, gone somewhere he couldn't bring her back from …
He woke with a start and gasped for air. He felt himself sitting upright in his bed, drenched in sweat, his breathing hard and shallow.
His hand reached out beside him and he felt a warm, female body, but it was wrong under his fingertips. It wasn't skinny as the body he needed to feel beside him was, the skin wasn't cool and soft as the skin he wanted to touch was. The skin was hot and sweaty. And the woman lying beside him smelled wrong.
With another start he remembered his dream , that horrible dream; but wait – was it a dream? It seemed so real, too real, much too real …
Shaking, he reached out for the clock on his bedside table. With a huge moan he realized, that the surgery of the conjoined twins was still a few hours away – which meant, that Lexie was safe at Meredith's place. With another moan he let himself fall back onto his pillows and he was sure, that he had never felt so relieved in his whole life.
Julia stirred beside him, her hand reaching out for his arm. Unconsciously, he lifted it out of her way, so her hand grasped empty space. Her eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes, looking at him sleepy, but nevertheless surprised to find him wide-eyed, sweaty and slightly disgusted looking watching her.
"Whatssup?", she murmured, looking around for the source of his distress.
He thought about it for a second, than he tore his eyes away from her, looking at the ceiling. "Nothing", he said, meaning not actually 'nothing' but 'nothing I wanna/can tell you'. She nodded sleepy and put her head back down, expecting him to snuggle in with her.
"Actually", he said, lifting his legs out of bed and sitting up again. "I forgot something. I really have to put that right."
"What?", she asked, sounding much more awake than she did a few seconds ago.
"I gotta go somewhere, like … now", he repeated, already changing into something more accurate to a night-time visit at his best friends place to visit his ex-girlfriend and tell her that he had a vision of her dying (Or, actually, to tell her that he loved her and to beg her to take him back. With Julia, he'd deal later).
"If you say so", Julia murmured, already half asleep. He rolled his eyes and took a sweater from the chair he had put it on the evening before.
A few minutes later he found himself in front of Meredith's place, in his car, watching the dark house with a feeling deep inside his stomach, that had nothing in common with what he felt when he looked at Julia. He couldn't even see Lexie, but he could feel the connection only the two of them would ever share.
And he knew, they were meant for each other. And that meant, that they couldn't give up. They would have to tempt fate, to try, one way or another.
