Sorry bout the delay. School, wedding stuff (my sis', not mine lol). Anyways, I'm making a deal with myself to write more often. I'm doing pretty good so far.

Enjoy! and don't forget to review!

Chapter Four: Stand

"Callie!" I heard the voice of Mark Sloan call out from behind me, but I ignored it and kept walking as fast as my feet would take me away from the hospital. There was too much there that I didn't want to see and didn't want to have to think about. I had never had such a strong urge to do anything as I did to leave that place at that moment.

Mark continued to call me and I continued to ignore him. Eventually he stopped yelling and followed silently behind me. I was surprised that he didn't quicken his pace and stop me, which he easily could have done; now out in the sanctuary of the parking lot, I had slowed considerably, going from a half-run to an easy walk. But he didn't and so when I finally reached my car, I got in and waited for him to catch up. He leaned towards my window and I pressed the button for it to go down.

"You can't leave. Not like this," he said. I decided to play dumb.

"Like what?" I asked in confusion. Mark rolled his eyes, reached his hand through the half open window and unlocked my car doors. Before I could open my mouth to react, he had walked around the front of the car and slid into the passenger's seat. "Are you carjacking me?" I was genuinely confused now and a little frightened.

"Look Callie, you may put on a brave smile for everyone else, but I can see that you're not okay. You're not fine. You're not even almost those things. I saw you bolt out of that elevator and I saw how you're really feeling in the split second it took for you to cover that up. You looked like shit Callie. Why did you come back today?"

I didn't answer right away. Instead I tried to wrap my mind around Mark's words and make sense of them. Mark had never spoken so poetically before and it was downright confusing. It took me a minute to figure out what he was asking.

"Why did I come back?" I repeated slowly.

"Yes. Why did you think that you were ready to come back to work? Even I can tell you're no where near ready."

"I have to work Mark, ready or not. So I thought I'd be strong and I thought I'd be able to make it through the day." I sighed and fell heavily against the back of my seat, dropping my hands from the steering wheel. I didn't realize how hard I was holding on to the wheel until I felt the dull ache in my fingers. "But I couldn't even do that. I don't think I'll ever be able to again. I think I'm really broken this time, Mark."

"I bet I know how you're feeling right now, and if I'm right I have some Words of Wisdom for you," Mark said eventually. I looked at him with raised eyebrows and I couldn't help but be slightly amused. "You feel like there's a piece of you missing, like something's not right. Like maybe at any moment, you'll fall apart. You feel like you're alone in the world and no one and nothing can possibly help you."

My amusement turned to pure shock. I whipped my head around to look at him so fast, my neck cracked. Mark laughed humorlessly, the sound of a bitter chuckle escaping his lips.

"I flew all the way out here to Seattle just to try to convince Addison to come home. Don't you think it hurt a little when I instead stayed and watched her and Derek try to be the happy couple they once were?" he explained, no longer looking at me but instead staring out the window with glassy eyes. I shook my head slowly, words failing me. "The point is," Mark began again, turning his head and locking eyes with me, "you'll be alright. You may not think so now, you may think you're broken beyond repair right now, but you'll be alright, and you'll be even stronger because of this."

"Thanks Mark, but right now I really just want to lie on the couch and be depressed," I said almost immediately. I wasn't blowing his words off completely, but I didn't want to hear them right now. I didn't want to hear about how things were going to be just fine when I felt so miserable and dead inside. Mark nodded in understanding and climbed out of the car.

"I'm here for you Callie." I 'Mhm'-ed him and watched as she reluctantly shut the door and stepped back, allowing me to peel out of the parking lot.

…

"How long has she been like that?"

"Four days."

"Has she moved? At all?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

They kept their conversation quiet, whispering to each other in the doorway. Unfortunately for Mark and Cristina, the silence of the apartment made their words seem to echo and I heard every one of them. I considered opening my mouth to tell them to screw off, but I didn't really have to energy or the will to do it.

"I've tried all I can," Mark said quietly to Cristina. "She won't listen to me. I've been hurt before, but not like that. You have. You should talk to her."

"What do you want me to do, share heartfelt sob stories with her until she gets up off the couch?" Cristina scoffed; the idea of being heartfelt and swapping stories probably both disgusting and frightening her.

"Yes." Mark's voice was so serious and firm that I could almost picture the way Mark was staring her down and the way Cristina's face went blank. Cristina groaned and after a short argument, she reluctantly agreed to talk to me.

"You don't have to do this. In fact, please don't," I said suddenly a few minutes later after Mark had left. Cristina was lingering awkwardly in the doorway to the hallway, probably wanting to run down the hall and into the confines of her bedroom, but knowing that the right place to be was in the living room with me.

"No, your manwhore will kill me. Plus, if you don't get up soon you're going to become a permanent part of the couch. I have sex on that couch. That'd be creepy." I burst out into a short, involuntary bout of laughter. Cristina looked pleased with herself and took a few confident steps closer to the couch.

"Is this the part where you share your heartaches with me to try to make me feel better?" I asked bitterly, quickly sobering from my irrational laughter. I really wasn't in the mood for laughter.

"I don't want to do this any more than you do, but if it gets you off your ass and back on your feet, it's worth a shot, right?" I didn't answer. "What do you know about my relationship with Preston Burke?"

At this, I shot up into a sitting position. My body ached in protest after lying in that same position for so long, but I ignored the pain. I had heard a lot about Preston Burke during my time at Seattle Grace. I had never really worked with him or spent time with him as much as George had, but I had heard plenty of rumors and stories to make up for lack of personal knowledge. And knowing what was now coming, I was suddenly interested in what Cristina was going to say to me.

"I guess you know the gist of it then?" Cristina looked amused at my reaction. My newfound eagerness to listen encouraged her farther into the room until at last she was sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. She rested her elbows on her knees, leaning forward so that she was only a few inches from me and was staring at the floor.

"Preston and I were pretty serious. Really serious, actually. This was the apartment he lived in when I met him. He somehow convinced me to move in with him. I loved him and it scared the shit out of me. We were going to get married. I didn't really care or want to, but it was important to him, so I went along with it." I sat up straighter, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I knew what was coming next.

"On our wedding day, he decided he was leaving. He said that he knew that I didn't want that and he didn't want me to do all of that for him. Funny thing is, at that point, I sort of did want it…."

I wasn't sure because she was still looking determinedly at the floor, but I was fairly certain that Cristina was crying. Or on the verge of it anyway. This shocked me more than her story did. Even to me, Cristina was a robotic being with little to no emotion and absolutely no public displays. And now here she was, spilling her guts and acting like a human.

"What did you do?" I gasped. Cristina seemed to break out of some reverie then and snapped her head up to look at me.

"I wasn't much better than you. More robotic than usual. I went to work, but I felt nothing for a long time. I, uh…I sang, actually. And practiced on cadavers."

"You sang?" I repeated incredulously.

"Madonna. It always made me think of him, because…do you remember that night we played charades? Me, Preston, you, and O'Malley?" I nodded slowly, vaguely remembering the time when George and I had been happy. "And he couldn't guess Madonna, because he was an idiot. So after that, I always thought of him when I heard Madonna."

"But you got over it. You're with Owen, and you're as happy as I've ever seen you," I stated slowly. Cristina nodded.

"I was in that numb state for a long time. I didn't fully come out of it until Owen saved me….I meant that literally, but I suppose it can be taken metaphorically as well."

"So what's the moral of the story here? What's supposed to get me up on my feet?" I asked almost mockingly a short while later. Cristina shrugged.

"Take what you want from it; I'm just sharing my experience. All I can tell you is that I got over it, and I got stronger. I realized things about myself, I accepted them, and I shook it off. Maybe you can too."

Cristina left me alone with my thoughts, which I was secretly very grateful for. After a long time of staring absently at the same spot on the floor that Cristina had been when retelling her tale, I looked up at nothing in particular with a determined look on my face.

I'd decided that I'd had enough of this. I was tired of feeling this miserable and sick of being so hung up on a girl. Slowly, I placed my feet on the cold hardwood floor. I bit my lip and let anger at myself and Erica and the screwed up planet was over me, motivating me to do what I had to do, what I was finally, truly ready to do: stand.

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause its all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you Stand, Then you stand