¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸ Runaway World ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸
21. Even Fairytale Characters Would Be Jealous

¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸ Mark ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸

This Mark lived in a living, breathing, breathtaking fairytale where, when he stepped out of his Mercedes every evening and into their sea of spring green grass, he was swamped by the pounding of tiny, dirty feet and reaching hands. Four-year-old Aberlee reached him first, her strawberry blonde ringlets swinging wildly, and launched herself into his arms. Her absolute devotion still astounded him, because he never did anything to earn her love except conceive her in the dirty bathroom of a bar.

He remembered the panting gasps that accompanied him on the runs between Addison and Meredith's delivery rooms as he and Derek switched places as per the women's wishes. Some moments Addison wanted to crush his fingers until he was sure he would never operate again, but then in others she sent him away, threatening to withhold sex for eternity, and he would run into a scared, harried Derek in the hall and trade places with him.

Still, he was the first to touch his daughter's shimmery, blood-covered body, the one to sever the connection between baby and mother and bring her truly into life. Addison spouted out names like a leaky faucet and then decided the next second that she didn't like them. Aberlee was a desperate combination Sage had thought up when his mother's sudden insanity frightened him, of Abby and Kaylee, both of which she'd rejected within seconds of uttering them.

He learned the ropes of diapers and ribbons and onesie snaps with vigorous determination despite the difficulty, and soon Aberlee smiled toothlessly from her crib, shining spittle dotting her lips, when she looked up to see her father. Fitting tiny, chubby arms into the baby clothes Addison bought by the truckload became easier with time, though there were days of panic when it was just him and his son trying to restore tranquility to the screaming baby while Addison worked or slept.

Mark placed Aberlee's flailing feet back on the ground in order to greet the twins, whose sticky, muddy hands grasping his Armani slacks might have, at one time, caused panic. Now he scooped a three-year-old up in each arm and awarded them both raspberries on bellies that smelled of sunshine and crushed marigold petals.

Skylar and Rowan were a surprise that left Naomi disgruntled and Addison hovering helplessly over the toilet more mornings than not. He remembered piling up pregnancy tests on the shiny white tile of their bathroom counter and begging a perpetually nauseous Addison to take them despite her numerous insistences that she was not carrying another child. And when he caught her struggling to do her own ultrasound, bent over a tiny, gel covered mound and tangled in the cord, she'd maintained that she was right: she wasn't carrying a child, she was carrying two.

Now they were two bodies cut out of a single soul, and only the faint, guitar shaped birthmark on the side of Skylar's neck allowed strangers to tell the boys apart. They were a tangle of squirming three-year-olds in his arms, arms tugging at matching red polos and little sneakers dirtying plaid boardshorts.

Sage arrived last, his soccer ball bouncing from knee to toe to knee again as he walked. At twelve, nearing thirteen, the softness of childhood had begun to fade into the hard muscles of adolescence; now his son blushed in the presence of girls and stood on tiptoe in the mirror, searching his upper lip for the first hint of stubble.

"Hey, Dad," he greeted, and they exchange their own version of the manly hug he and Derek had perfected years earlier.

The pride of watching his son's skill on the soccer field hadn't faded, he remembered days of soccer practices that resulted in his son running circles around kids nearly twice his age. He yelled encouragement with the best of the parents while Addison sat in a folding chair by his side, nursing a child and rolling her eyes.

Afterwards he would take his son out for sherbert ice cream and study the way his hands gripped the cone under his sweaty forehead, trying to find a slice of himself in the boy. Some days he succeeded, others he wasn't so sure, but his love for Sage, born unknowingly on the day he stitched the boy's face in the ER, was irrefutable.

These days Sage played on an international traveling team and aspired to try out for the national team for the next set of Olympics. Addison only allowed this in the presence of flawless grades, and some nights the two boys were both attempting to untangle the same problem inscribed on the blue lined paper of Sage's notebook until Mark managed to dig up some ancient high school geometry skills.

He was the one who had driven Sage to the grocery store and spent two hours helping his son decide which box of candy to give to Laila Fisher for Valentine's day, and later as Addison taped foil wrapped chocolates to the Valentines that Aberlee had missed (or for classmates she didn't like) they couldn't help glancing at the note to the girl and exchanging grins as they recalled the early, forbidden days of their courtship.

Mark felt a soft, enticing touch on his arm and turned to see his wife link her arm in his. He recognized the fabric of his property draped over her body, the smell of her perfume mingling with his scent on the worn, fire engine red t-shirt. The fabric distressed slightly over her belly, waterfalling over the bump of their fifth child mesmerizingly as she moved.

Lexie ended up with George, and he was truly happy about her contentment, but he still intercepted resentful looks on the occasions when Addison brought their brood of children to work. Izzie had eventually convinced Alex to have a baby, or perhaps threatened him, he was unsure. Still, nine months after wedding (which was a year after Meredith and Derek's and six months before his and Addison's), Katie Karev joined the ever-growing group of Seattle Grace kids. As far as Mark knew, Arizona and Callie were looking into adoption, but for now, they were simply enjoying being together.

"Okay guys, lay off your dad now," Addison laughed as Skylar and Rowan each latched onto one of his legs and hung there, little suntanned faces grinning up at him. Aberlee frowned at the lack of attention so Addison swung her up into her arms, settling the child against her hip as she wobbled slightly. Mark decided there was nothing more beautiful than his wife barefoot on their deck, holding one of his girls and pregnant with another.

"Careful of the baby," Addison admonished, ticking Aberlee's belly between the Kelly green two-piece his daughter refused to take off most summer days, it seemed far-off as Mark was hit with déjà vu. This hadn't happened before per se, similar scenes had taken place in their home, but not this one.

But, he realized, he'd dreamed about a little over four years ago, covered in flour and cuddled up to an Addison that didn't know she was pregnant with Aberlee, or that Sage was her son. Grinning, Mark placed a kiss on the top of her head. It'd taken them a long time to get here, but they'd gotten where they were always meant to be.

¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸ Addison ¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)(¨*·.¸)¨´*·.¸´·.¸

As she rolled over in Egyptian cotton sheets and found herself alone, legs tangled and her body surrounded by pillows, she couldn't help wondering for a second if it had all been an elaborate dream. But then her back hit Grumpy, Skye's favorite Carebear, and she accidentally squished Aberlee's Ni Hao, Kai-Lan doll a little, and she remembered that this was real, after all she and Mark had been through, they'd arrived at happily ever after.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and swayed a little as she stood, which she accounted to the shifting child inside her, whose thumb was probably in her mouth and who liked to protest with well-placed kicks every time her mother moved.

"Calm down, sweetie," she murmured as she tiptoed to the kitchen, toes exploring the well-worn tile of their rented Greek villa. So focused was she on the fridge and the food it promised that she ran smack-dab into her pajama-clad ex-husband.

"Talking to yourself?" he teased as he pulled open the fridge and began pulling out fruits for the blender she saw he'd already placed on the counter.

"To the baby," she corrected primly, hand roaming over her stomach. "You ought to know, your wife is pregnant again too."

"She isn't as crazy as you," Derek said as he began to dice the fruit and place it in the blender. "Plus, we don't have five kids."

"We don't have five either," she pointed out. "Yet." She dug the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer, added a few scoops to Derek's smoothie, and was about to replace it when she felt a tug on her pajamas. "Can I have a taste, Auntie Addie?" little Landon, Meredith and Derek's son asked.

Addison handed the carton to the four-year-old boy, who squealed with delight, shot a look at Derek that said I can spoil him, I'm his aunt, and grabbed one of the smoothies Derek had poured. The sun set to work staining her skin golden as soon as she stepped outside, and as they'd only been in Santorini a day and half it still had plenty of work to do.

She stood on the boulevard behind her family, staring over a sea comprised of pure happiness, and yet the flaw was still obvious and painful. Her husband's hanned, muscled shoulders gave way to her twelve-year-old son's, who was perched on the edge of the cliff beside him. Aberlee, Rowan, and Skylar were like duckling in a row, fiery heads shining in the sun, but the gap between Sage and Aberlee was so noticeably, so pungently agonizing, that she could almost see the ghostly outline of another child there.

"I think I found it, Adds," Mark called over her shoulder, and it didn't surprise her that he knew she was there.

"Right," she snorted, pacing over to stand by his side. "Which one is it then?"

"That one," he said, extending his arm into the golden sun, indicating a rooftop far in the distance. "Definitely that one."

"It was not! It was closer to the water than that."

"Hey! I was the one who the lady yelled at for being naked," Mark protested. "I think I would know, babe."

"What are you talking about?" Sage asked, wrinkling his nose in confusing, spring eyes dancing as he watched his parents.

"Oh, just which rooftop you were made on, honey," Addison answered casually, and laughed as her son gagged and took a running leap into the sea in order to escape her and his father. The mermaid-colored waves lapped at the cliff only a few feet below, but she still peaked over to see that Sage had plunged into the water safely.

"It wasn't that one, Mark."

"It was that one, Addie. You just refuse to admit that I'm right."

"You were too horny to remember anything," she said against her husband's bronze neck, and he grinned wickedly before scooping her up and tossing her into the ocean near her son, pajamas and all.

"Mark!" she shrieked, even though the coolness felt good and the baby inside her squirmed in delight.

"Come on, just those three little words, babe. You know you do," he teased, but she was not telling him she loved him after that.

"Go to hell," she choked, spewing a little seawater as she did.

So, this is the end of the road, people. I love this story and always will, but I think this was a natural and good place to end it. The ending's been planned like forever, so it was nice to finally write it, even though it made me a little sad. I'm not saying I'll never write a sequel, but I'm gonna work on other things for a while. Maybe Six Feet Under the Stars if I find the inspiration. Anyway thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, you mean the world to me.