This is for Rachel. MERRY CHRISTMAS MOM! My Lorelai. Nexus. Peas in a far out pod. Dreaming of April. THIS SONG IS SUCH A FIC! "WRITE ME SOME MARSAN!" "You're my MARSANHEROIN SUPPLIER" I love you, Beef-ef. :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Dear Mark,
I wish I could pick up the phone and call you, but it all still feels to awkward and I just want to talk to you. I figured an e-mail was the next best option. I had my first trauma in Phoenix today – it felt awkward, like wearing a shoe on the wrong foot...
–
Dear Susan,
I wish I could tell you it's not awkward, but if it wasn't then I'd be able to pick up the phone and tell you this. It won't always be. As for the traumas, they'll get better – I promise. I accidentally spilled too much Tabasco on my eggs this morning and thought of you.
–
Dear Mark,
I know that this is where I'm supposed to be; checking in on Susie, making sure Chloe stays clean and that Joe is good to them, but.... It doesn't mean I don't miss Chicago... that I don't miss you. Cause I do, more than words could ever say.
–
Dear Susan,
Chicago misses you... and I guess I do too.
–
Dear Mark,
Please know this isn't what I wanted to become of us. I didn't want to hurt you. Carol called. Be nice to them Mark, they're your friends and they love you. I don't want you to be like this.
–
Dear Susan,
I know. I just... don't know.
–
Dear Mark,
I think I know you too well because that made complete sense.
–
Dear Susan,
Of course you do. You know me better than anyone ever has or ever will.
–
Dear Mark,
Well, I guess I could say the same thing. You're the only one who knows every single detail and I'm still unsure of how you figured some of it out.
–
Dear Susan,
I'm David Copperfield.
–
Dear Mark,
Oh, that explains it.
–
Dear Susan,
I'm starting to feel human again. I'm not jumping at every little sound. I feel more like me, but I still feel incomplete.
–
Dear Mark,
I want this to get better. I want us to be okay. I don't want... I don't want you to hate me.
–
Dear Susan,
Don't you know? I can't ever hate you.
–
Dear Mark,
Chloe's moving again. Joe's got a job out east. I can't follow her around forever can I?
–
Dear Susan,
You've got to live your own life at some point.
–
Dear Mark,
I'm coming home.
–
Mark Greene stood among the throngs of people at Union Station. The train from Phoenix Arizona was due any minute and he was waiting for his best friend to step off of it. He tried not to think about track ten and how that's the one Susan was supposed to leave on. Her letters cluttered in his mind; she missed him, she didn't feel at home in Phoenix, she was coming home. She was coming home to him.
The train rolled into track ten and it's brakes made an awful squeak as it rolled to a stop. Mark's heart leap as he stood on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. It pained him that he hardly recognized her as she made her way through the crowds – despite everything the desert has been good to her. Her blond hair had bleached out even more in the Arizona sun and she looked so much more alive than when he had last seen her.
She was still Susan though; the way she carried herself and how her smile spread all the way up to her eyes. Her bag hit the ground with a thud as her arms locked around his neck, his hands went around her waist and held her to him. He never wanted to let go and it seemed that she didn't either. Her head burrowed in the crook of his neck and he felt her tears dampen his shirt. He stood there for who knows how long holding her in the middle of the train station before she pulled away.
Her arms stayed around his neck and she looked up at him, "I love you too."
He laughed despite himself and let the smile overtake his face, "You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that."
She stood on her tiptoes pulling his head down to meet hers and their lips fused together in a long overdue kiss. As they stood there kissing, her hands grabbing at his shirt and his hand cupping her jaw the conclusion dawned on them. At that very moment, they were both finally home.