Forever and a Day
Warnings: Established Mer/Mark
Disclaimer: If I did own Grey's Anatomy, Mark would be with BIG Grey and not her little sister.
Summary: She picked him, chose him, loves him, but what happens after forever? A Mer/Mark medical story [Sequel to Pick, Choose, Love]
Notes: Woo! Updated again. With more Mark and Cristina because who doesn't love the person and the boyfriend? =]
I built myself a castle on the beach
Watching as it slid into the sea
A Fine Frenzy, Last of Days
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Because He Loved Her
"It's not strep."
Meredith's head, which had been lying on the blessedly cool metal bed frame in the on call room, swung upwards in surprise. "What?" she screeched.
Or at least, she tried to.
Her voice cracked, again, in the middle. Meredith's hand flung to her throat, rubbing in an attempt to subdue the fire that pained her almost every day now. She couldn't ice it, she couldn't sooth it, she couldn't do a damn thing. And it was ticking Meredith off.
Maybe this time it would work, maybe this time it would stop. Maybe it would all be back to the way it had been before when she had had her Happily Ever After. Everything had been perfect, she and Mark had been perfect, and her life had been perfect.
But damnit, she was realizing that Happily Ever After wasn't the end of a story – that forever was shorter than anyone really knew.
"It isn't strep," Cristina repeated, leaning in the doorway, staring at Meredith's pathetic attempts to make her feel better.
Wearily, the intern rubbed her eyes. Cristina had run every test she knew, trying to find out what the hell was going on. Every test she did came back normal. Every. Damn. Test.
It was like Meredith was making up the symptoms, and while Cristina knew Meredith was a little messed up (okay, a lot messed up), she didn't fake illnesses for attention. Cristina knew she didn't because she had McSteamy who was making her better and normal and not all dark and twisty. This wasn't something Meredith, better or not, would do.
She hated being on the other side of the stethoscope, like every doctor did. Because it meant letting someone else handle their life, trusting someone else to cut them open correctly. And Meredith, like Cristina, wasn't a trusting person. So, faking the symptoms wasn't an option.
But not recognizing all the symptoms was.
They were doctors; they worked in hospitals with sick people all day long. They were bound to catch something every once in a while, no matter how much Airborne they downed or how well they washed their hands it was inevitable, they were bound to get something.
Cristina just hoped what Meredith had wasn't fatal.
"What exactly have been your symptoms, Meredith," Cristina stated. "And I want every little detail."
She was Cristina Yang, and she would be damned if some little disease would beat her and take her person.
Mark&Meredith.McSteamy&theIntern.TheDirtyMistressClub
Mark ran a hand through his hair. Where was Meredith? They had a lunch date (like always), and she was late. She was usually popped up behind him, with that bright smile on her lips and a laugh ready to be imparted.
She was usually here. Ready for him and their small dates, ready for their routine, ready for their forever. Her being sick usually didn't throw them off too badly, after all, she had had that cold a few months ago and she had still been his Grey even with too bright eyes and the sniffles.
Actually, he remembered, she was adorable sick.
He ran a hand through his hair again, frustrated and worried. She was sick. What if she had passed out? What if it was worse than she was willing to tell him? He frowned at his last thought. That would be classic Meredith Grey, trying to keep the symptoms hidden because she didn't want to worry him, worry anyone really.
Not for the first time, he cursed Ellis Grey for giving Meredith the complex that left her thinking she wasn't good enough and that she should keep everything and anything to herself. He had fought against her low self-esteem issues, and this time it would get her sicker.
Giving up his spot in the Lobby (where he and Meredith always met), he tugged off his leather jacket after pushing the elevator button. He was going to find her and ask what the hell was going on.
Because he was the boyfriend, and the boyfriend (while legally had no rights) deserved to know. Especially if the boyfriend was a world class doctor – a plastic surgeon but still a doctor – and he deserved at least to know what his girlfriend had.
Even if his girlfriend was as closed off as Meredith Grey, he deserved to know what the hell was going on.
And even if he wasn't Mark Sloan, world-reknown plastic surgeon, he deserved to know. Because he loved her.