Still sick, still sorry for any and all errors. Hope you continue to enjoy this endeavor.
Dedicated to Rachael (once more) and M for being the ultimate slayers of all my feelings.
Disclaimer: I still don't own a darn thing.
Beautiful things never last,
That's why fireflies flash
-Ron Pope;
She's on the phone with Savvy, a still quite sleepy Henry in her arms with his face smashed against the crook of her neck. He watches her from the couch where he's sitting cross-legged, hunched over and listening to Sofia babble about her day – he knows he should be paying full attention to his daughter but he's always been hyper aware of Addison Montgomery. She's got her knees pulled up in the chair, using her thighs to support her son, as she holds the phone to her ear with one hand and traces circles on the little boy's back with the other. When she tosses her head back and laughs, he finds himself smiling at the sound. Then he turns his attention back to his daughter and her babbles about daycare. Sofia's speech is far beyond most toddler's her age and it seems to compensate for her slower developing muscles; she babbles about Zola and Yo Gabba Gabba , mama and mami. "Sounds like you had a full day, baby girl." He watches her nod vigorously, almost slipping off Callie's knee. "You're going to be good for mami tonight, right?"
"Okay," she intones. "Ni-night, mine daddy!"
His heart stops for a second and tears briefly flood his eyes but he blinks them away. "Goodnight, my sweet Sofia. I love you."
He blows her a kiss and she returns one with equal vigor, her pudgy hand knocking gracelessly into the laptop. She slips off of Callie's lap, falling easily into the crawling position though she's mastered walking, before disappearing off screen. Callie raises the camera and gives him a smile. "She misses you."
"I miss her too," he promises and he does. Except for those four days in the woods, he hasn't gone a day without holding her for her entire life. "Give her hugs and kisses for me, okay?"
"I will," Callie swears. "How's Addison?"
"Fine," he informs and turns his computer so they can wave at each other. There's something golden about their friendship, the way they can go without each other for years and still fall back into that same place they had left. He's not quite sure but he believes that Callie might have been Addison's first real best friend; sure there had been Savvy and Derek's sisters but their friendship was the first of Addison's that wasn't born from necessity, they weren't roommates or in-laws. He leaves them for a few minutes, listening to them catch up on their lives and children.
Amelia is in the kitchen working on a late dinner; she'd never been much of a cook but after her last stint in rehab she'd taken up the art form, something she could do with her hands that didn't result in any kind of high. He turns his head to track the brunette who had always fallen somewhere between little sister and the woman who could find her way into his bed whenever she liked. She looks so different from little Amy Shepherd who had lost her innocence far too early; she looked old, like she'd seen too much of the world far too fast. He leaves Addison and Callie talking on his laptop and slowly got up from the couch, ignoring the stiffness in his bones, and meands to the kitchen to drape an arm around her shoulder and press a kiss to the top of her head.
She tips her head to smile up at him and withdraws a small coin from her pocket. "Six months, buddy."
"So proud." He drops another kiss to her head and gives her a squeeze. "Need any help?"
"No, injured one, go sit your ass down."
He rolls his eyes and steals a piece of cooked chicken from the pile she's chopping for salad. She slaps his hand with a flat side of a knife. "Bossy and evil as ever, I see."
"Out of my kitchen, Mark."
He makes it back to the living room just in time to wave goodbye to Callie as she escapes to chase after their daughter. The couch welcomes him as he collapses on it, embarrassed by how quickly he got winded these days. Addison sits beside him, placing Henry on the floor in front of his blocks. Her head comes slowly over to rest against his shoulder and he naturally brings his head down to rest on hers.
"You okay," she dares to ask.
He lets out a slow breath. "I will be."
–
The nightmare surprises all of them. He bolts upright in bed at a quarter til four in the morning; Addison is flipping on the light as he comes to, Amelia passes in the shadows of the hallway to comfort a now screaming Henry. He watches through his panic as Addison comes over and curls herself around him. His heart is racing and he can't breathe right, his chest feels like someone has lit it on fire. Her touch is cool against his too hot skin and her lips press against his damp hair. "It's okay," she promises, rocking him gently. "It's okay, Mark. You're just fine, okay? You're alive and in California with me and Amelia and Henry. You're alright."
"Can't breathe," he manages to gasp, his arms coming up to grip her tightly.
"I know," she assures him. "Just a panic attack, you had a bad dream. Let me help you, alright?"
His voice is broken as he begs. "Please, Red. Help me."
"I will."
She tries to edge him back into the bed but he breaks from her gasp and stumbles to the bathroom, not even managing to flip on the light before he's retching the bit of dinner he ate. She takes it like the mother she is, automatically wetting a washcloth to press to the back of his neck and running a hand over his back as he vomits. Tears prickle beneath his eyes as he sinks to the floor with her arms around him. "Sorry."
"Hush," is her only response. "You're gonna be okay."
"They've had me so medicated," he explains. "I didn't expect this to happen."
She gets him a cup of water, flushes the toilet, and then sits across from him in the tiny bathroom. "You want to talk about it?"
"I don't remember much of what happened while we were out there but what I do remember..." He wipes his face with the rag and takes a small drink from the plastic cup. "Lexie was pinned by part of the plane... Massive crush injuries and just too much damage. If we had been able to get her out, she would have died from blood loss anyway. Derek's hand was caught under another piece – a wing, I think. Arizona's leg was broken so badly that we could see her bone. The pilot couldn't feel a damn thing."
Addison's face is stoic as she finds his hand on the cold tile floor. "What about you?"
"My chest..." He drops her hand and pulls his shirt over his head. She gasps at the sight; most of the bruises have faded but some from the surgery still remain. "The impact nearly killed me and we didn't even realize it right away."
"Mark," she whispers his name and ghosts her fingers over his chest. It hurts but he grits his teeth and lets her touch him gently. "Your breast bone?"
"Fractured."
"And ribs?"
He nods. "Multiple. Punctured lung, my heart took a beating..."
"You're alive," she reassures – him or herself, he doesn't know.
He lets out a soft chuckle. "Yang... her shoe came off on impact and she was about delirious from shock and she freaked out for so long because she couldn't find it."
"You dreamed about the crash then?"
He pulls her close by her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him, her cheek damp from tears and pressed tightly against his naked collarbone. His lips find the soft velvet hair at her temple and he presses a kiss there. "I dreamed that there was more of us in the crash; you and Callie, Sofia... Amelia and Henry. Everyone I care about was there and I couldn't save any of you, I couldn't even save myself. Everyone was dying."
"I'm alive," she promises, her mouth barely brushing over the skin of his chest. "Amelia and Henry are just down the hall and alive too."
"I know," he breathes. "I do know."
She pulls back and laces their fingers together. "Lets go call Callie, alright?"
"It's four in the morning, Addison."
She raises an eyebrow at him. "With Sofia and Arizona and everything, I'm sure she's already awake and, even if she's not, she won't mind you calling."
He shakes his head. "Can we just sit here awhile longer, please?"
"Whatever you need."
She moves to tuck back into his side but he shakes his head and pulls her into his lap. Careful of his injuries, she settles into his embrace and kisses his forehead, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him the best she could given her position. He curls himself around her until they're a mess of tangled limbs incapable of telling where one ended and the next began. They stayed that way, protectively curled together, until the sun began to rise and he gave into the pull of sleep.