Warning: Rated T for strong language.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. We probably have about 4 more chapters left with this story. Enjoy.

Chapter 22 – Please Don't Go

Mark

A small flame started in the back of the ER near the ambulance entrance. I could see the flame forming just as the last spark from the broken light a few seconds before. Within seconds, the room was engulfed in black smoke.

Lexie turned; looking at the back of the ER, her mouth going into the sleeve of her white lab coat as she coughed once, twice, a third time. She looked back at me, her eyes saying it all…this was the end. For her. I couldn't let that happen.

She looked up at me earnestly. "I love you," she said.

I shook my head my hands flattened on the glass. "No. Don't do that. We are going to get you out of there."

The smoke took over the room. I could no longer see Lexie's face or even her hands against the door.

She was gone.

Lexie

They weren't kidding when they said that most people died from smoke inhalation before actually burning to death.

The thick black smoke was engulfing all around me. My eyes were stinging and burning at the same time, making me blink almost every few seconds. My mouth was constantly pressed into the sleeve of my now black smoot coat as I tried to cough out the invasion to my lungs.

I wasn't going to survive a mere couple more minutes if I did not find a way out of here.

I reluctantly had to pull away from the glass that separated between Mark and I. As it was, my steps were already slowing, my head was getting foggier by the moment, and my ability to breath was getting choppier by the second. Just looking into his eyes, seeing most likely what I was going to miss out on was the most heartbreaking of it all.

I had finally found love. True love. A love that I was so sure could transcend lifetimes. We had our ups and downs, and even sometimes the most ridiculous fights, but deep down there was a love there, a bond that I couldn't ever see breaking.

Except now.

I was twenty-five and I was going to die by fire. In the once place I loved more than anything—outside being next to Mark. What a cruel world sometimes this place could be. I had thought the 'darkness' that Andrew had spoken about was relating to my father and everything surrounded by that, but now I was starting to wonder if that darkness was going to follow me everywhere I went.

I coughed again, breaking myself out of my thoughts. I couldn't give up now. The flames that were in the back of the ER had grown substantially, thanks to the leak as well, meaning I really only did have moments left.

Through the break in the smoke, my eyes caught something shinny. Something that could be my way out. My last hope.

An air vent.

It was a square air vent near the floor by one of the ER hospital beds. I shuffled my feet over to the vent, coughing as I tried to pry it open. I noticed the vent was sealed shut by two screws at the top of each of the corners. This wasn't going to open without some ability to pry the damn thing open.

I cursed, wondering how the hell I was going to get this opened within a couple of minutes. The temperature in the room had become exceedingly hotter in between the thick smoke. I tried to press my back up against the wall, swinging my legs away from the room to shield away from the heat. If I was going to die, at least I hope I did pass out from the smoke before I burned to death.

Electricity started to crackle around the room as the fire started to work its way through. Between the fire, gas, and now this…I might end up dying from an explosion first.

My eyes caught a sliver like color from on top of the tray. My hope was restored when I noticed a scalpel still sitting on top of the tray. I could possibly use it to unscrew and open the vent. If I could possibly make it through the vent, I could have a shot of getting out.

My first couple of attempts were nothing short of failure. The screws barely budged, but I didn't let that stop my attempt at trying. Anything was better than possibly dying from smoke inhalation or burning to death.

I doubled down; using my shoulder to hold the vent steady, as I used both of my hands on the scalpel to keep it within the small grove and turn. I almost broke down into tears as the screw slowly started to budge and turn to the left to loosen. It took another few tries but within a minute, the first screw had come undone.

Then the sprinklers burst out, and water started spraying from the ceiling in hopes of extinguishing the fire. The fire was blazing, and even though the water was coming down, it only did a little to slow the fire from reaching me.

My hands became slippery as I gripped the scalpel and started again to work at trying to loosen the other screw. It took a little longer thanks to my wet hands, and my hair plastering on my face and in my eyes, but it had all been worth it when the screw was in my hands, my fingers red and cramping as the vent fell towards me.

I barely looked back as I shoved my body through the tight space of the vent shaft. I could only imagine what it must feel like for those in the military going through fitness training as they climbed on all fours through the grass or dirt.

The space was tight, and it took me a number of times to try and use my sneakers to give me leverage as I maneuvered my way through the vent. I finally landed on my left hand flat at the side of the vent, while my right used any remaining strength to help propel myself forward, my legs doing the bulk of the work. It turned into a streamlined process. My left hand extending past my head, my right hand in front of my body, while I tried to lift myself as my feet found traction to move myself forward.

Then I heard the bang.

Not a bang.

An explosion.

I had just made it to the fork in the vent moving towards the left, when I saw the flames reach through the vent right behind my feet as they continued the strengthen. Between the weight of my body and now the heat of the flimsy metal, the vent was starting to give way under my body. I kept pushing forward anyway, keeping up with the process until I was certain I could find an opening and get out of here.

The smoke was starting to fill the vent, another coughing fit returning as I tried to find any clean air to fill my lungs. The throbbing in my head had not subsided, as spots were now starting to form at the back of my eyes. I just had to pray that I had enough energy in me to find a way out.

Mark

I turned to Owen; my face thunderous. "She's going to die!" I growled.

He let out a tumultuous sigh, and I could tell he didn't like this any better than I did. Owen might not feel about Lexie the same way that I did, but the man had also been in the Army. The one thing that he understood was commanding a unit and ensuring the safety of everyone under his command. It was clear that it was tearing Owen up inside at the thought that one of his doctors was going to die under his leadership.

That wasn't going to happen. Not Lexie. Not her.

"Mark, I can't open it," he replied sadly.

I turned away from him, my fists banging on the glass. I couldn't see Lexie any longer. The smoke had swallowed her whole, my ability to even see her outer frame long gone. A cold sensation filled my entire body making the panic in me only rise.

One of my greatest strengths had always been to be calm under pressure. It was one of my greatest qualities. When Meredith had gone into the cold water and the chance that she wasn't going to make it, I had been the calm and rational one to Derek. When George had cheated on Callie, and she wanted to castrate him, it was me that got her to see reason and push her newfound anger into her work.

With Lexie's life on the line, I could no longer think rationally. Everything in me seized up, my hands pounding louder against the glass.

"Lexie!"

"Mark."

I pounded harder.

"Lexie!"

"Mark, stop!"

My hands came down to pound again, but before they could hit the glass, a pair of hands gripped on my shoulders and spun me so I couldn't attack the glass.

Derek.

"Let go of me," I snapped.

"Mark, you have to stop," he said evenly.

My eyes narrowed. "If it were Meredith?"

His eyes dropped for a second. He understood. If anyone understood, it was Derek, but I could see the 'but' in his expression. I could sense the resignation in his posture. He wanted to believe with me that we could do something, but everything else said the opposite.

"If you open the door, you place everyone in the hospital at harm." Derek reasoned.

"I don't care."

It sounded careless and malice, but in that moment, I really didn't care. I couldn't care when the only person on my mind, the only person who really was at risk was Lexie herself. I told her that I would always protect her. That she would always be safe when I was around…I couldn't break that promise. I couldn't let her die.

I turned back to the door to start pounding again, before a rush of men in black and yellow suits came storming in. The firefighters had finally arrived. Two of the men in the front of the pack came running at me, both their hands on my shoulders.

"Sir, I need you to cease and desist," the gruff voice demanded, his fingers applying just enough pressure to let me know this definitely was not a request.

I tried to shrug them off. "Get off me," I snapped.

Their hands clasped around my biceps and started to pull me back. "We need to get out of here," the man replied.

My voice was wild, because even the slight budge in moving me away from the window of the ER door made it feel like I was miles away from Lexie now. I didn't even know if she was still alive at this point, and that thought alone was enough to bring me to my knees.

"She's still in there!"

The firefighters were pushing me back towards Derek and Owen. "I'm sorry, but there is nothing we can do for her now. If we don't get the rest of you out of here, then you could get hurt too."

"I don't care," I cried.

"Mark."

It was Derek, his face grim. I could see he didn't like it anymore than I did. He really did have a look of pain in his expression, the same expression he wore when he had lost his father years before. Meredith and him may not be married yet, but I could see in his features that he cared about Lexie as if she was already his sister.

"Derek…Derek, I can't…"

My voice trailed off, the fear and grief of the last moment of seeing her in the room before the smoke swallowed her lithe body frame whole. My feet shuffled in front of me as the swarm of firefighters started to push us back down the hall to seal us away from this entire wing.

Just as we turned the corner…the explosion happened.

Lexie

My ability to push my tired and bruised body further down the vent had slowed. The spots behind my eyes were getting bigger until I couldn't hardly focus on anything other than the spots—which wasn't saying much, since I was incased in nothing but darkness.

I stopped for a moment, my forehead resting against the coolness of the aluminum like metal of the vent. I heard another notch in the metal beneath me, my weight stretching the ability to keep it suspended in the air.

"I'm tired," I croaked, another cough burning as it escaped my lungs.

I just wanted to sleep. I wanted curl up into my bed with Mark, pull the comforter up to my neck and just sleep for hours.

Mark.

My eyes snapped open, the realization that I was nowhere out of danger yet. Behind me, I could still see the ambers of flames at a distance from where I had escaped the ER unit. I looked back in front of me, a sudden white like light shining up ahead. A moment of optimism filled me at seeing what I hoped was a beam of light.

I rubbed at my stinging eyes, trying to force away the spots, because at this point, I wasn't sure if it was the spots, my eyes playing tricks on me, or an actual beam of light. Even with rubbing my eyes, I couldn't be sure it was in fact a beam of light.

It was painstaking, every movement of my hands, body, and feet felt like I was trying to move a three-hundred-pound dead weighted dummy as I tired to inch further. I grunted. I cried. I said every prayer I could think of to just help me move a couple inches more.

The feeling of groves underneath my fingers felt like taking a large glass of water after being left in the jungle for days without water. I wiped my eyes again, as my fingers slipped through the vent.

"Hello! Anybody there!"

I wasn't sure if my voice carried outside of the metal box, I was in. My voice came out croaked and cracked. I could feel the amount of soot I had taken on from the smoke.

"Hello!"

"Is someone there?"

My eyes went wide, looking through the slits in the vent to see a lab technician looking around the room wondering where the voice could be coming from.

"Here. Up here!"

I could see the technician's eyes squint around the room, before actually looking up. My fingers were still sticking through the slits of the vent.

"Sweet baby Jesus," said the technician.

I sighed. For now…I was saved.

I closed my eyes.

The darkness took me.

I felt a soft but firm pair of lips meet my own in my peaceful sleep.

"Wake up sleepy head. It's time for you to get up."

That voice. I knew that voice. That strong baritone voice that I loved so much. I was so comfortable, and sleep was so comfortable, but those lips, and that voice was making it hard not to open my eyes. So, I did.

As I blinked my sleepiness away, Mark's handsome face filled my vision. He was hovered over me, his lips quirked into a smile, his blue eyes lighting up as I looked up into his face.

"I think you should climb into bed next to me." I countered.

He laughed, and gave me that sexy smile. "Oh, baby, you have no idea how tempting that would be."

I pushed aside some of my covers. "So, then come on in."

His eyes flashed with desire, before he pulled back. Since when did Mark Sloan have the powers to deny sex when it was so willingly being offered up?

"First day of vacation, and I almost don't ever want you to go back. You would break Christopher's heart if we aren't out the door in the next thirty minutes."

My eyes squinted. "Christopher?"

"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"

A little boy who couldn't be more than four or five years old came running into our bedroom. My eyes opened wide as I looked up at Mark, who was now looking at me with a bit of concern.

Before the little boy could attempt to jump onto our bed, Mark scooped him up into his arms and started tickling the little tike as he began to giggle.

"Daddy, stop!" he giggled some more, his chin dipped to his chest.

Mark did in fact not stop his onslaught of attack of the giggles, moving to his stomach as he plastered kisses all over his face.

"Da…Da..beearrd."

I was so transfixed at watching Mark holding the little boy and seeing him with such love and tenderness as he played with him. The boy called Christopher. The boy that just called me his mommy.

What was happening?

"Mommy is just getting up, General. Give her a couple of minutes," Mark said, as he pulled back and stopped his tickling, placing one additional kiss on Christopher's head.

Christopher pouted. "But…we go…daddy." Christopher turned those eyes on me, the same blue as his handsome father. "Mommy, it's mommy, daddy, and me time."

Mark turned that grin on me and I suddenly understood what he meant when I tried to invite him to laying with me but he had pulled back. One look from these little blue eyes and it was hard to say no.

What was this?

Mark dropped the little boy on the bed, as I got a closer look, it was hard not to see all the similarities in Mark. His lighter hair, blue eyes, same jawline. I could see the bit of softness of me in there—as crazy as that sounded—but I could see it. This little boy in front of me was a product of Mark and myself.

How?

Christopher crawled over to me and without even thinking, my arm came out instantly and pulled him to my side. Christopher's tiny hands wrapped around my stomach, as the side of his face pressed against my side.

"It's cation with mommy and daddy," said Christopher.

"Vacation," I corrected, as I found myself placing a kiss on the top of his head.

I looked up to see Mark looking down at the both of us, the love and happiness shinning bright. We had never talked about kids from what I could recall in our relationship. A relationship alone was a huge step for him. The arm that was wrapped around Christopher showed me what I had already knew.

There was a large diamond ring on my finger.

Mark and I were married.

Mark and I had a son.

I looked up into his eyes again just as he mouthed the words, 'I love you,' before turning back to his son.

"Come on Christopher. Let's make mommy a quick breakfast while she gets dressed in record time."

Christopher leaned back to kiss me on the shoulder since that was as far as he could reach, before scooting away and bobbing excitedly as he slid off the bed and took his father's hand and started walking from the room.

Mark winked. "See you downstairs."

I climbed out of bed and went over to the mirror. I looked at my reflection but all I saw was me. A few years older, but I was me and I looked happy. The shine from the ring flashing in the reflection of the mirror.

I blinked; and when I looked at myself again, I somehow looked even older.

"Mom! Will you tell Chris to stop taking my stuff? He's being a butthead."

"Mom, tell Ava to stop coming into my room without permission and I wouldn't take her stuff," hollered back Chris.

"I hate you," Ava replied.

"I never asked for mom and dad to have you," Chris bit back.

The words flew out of my mouth before I could even stop them. "If you two don't behave and be nice, then when your father gets home, we will have a lot to talk about."

There was a pause of silence before two voices shouted from down the hall. "Sorry, mom."

When I looked back to my reflection in the mirror, I almost gasped at reflection looking back at me. I still looked like me, but I was at least the twenty-year older version of me.

"Your just as beautiful as the day I saw you laying on the bathroom floor with that hideous blue looking shower curtain."

I turned from the mirror to see Mark standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his feet crossed in front of each other and his arms against his chest.

I couldn't help but smile thinking back to the day that seemed so long ago at this point. "You were just happy I was naked."

His grin grew wider. "I am always happy when you are naked."

I smiled. "Still impossible I see after all these years."

He pushed off the door and came closer to me. It was as if my body was almost on autopilot, instantly putting my arms around his neck and drawing him closer as his lips came down on mine and kissed me.

As we pulled back, I noticed that unlike most women, Mark still looked as handsome as ever even as he stood in front of me in his early sixties. His hair was sliver, but he was just as handsome as ever. It wasn't fair that men got better looking as they aged.

"You better hurry…your daughter wants to make her grand entrance with us waiting downstairs," he said.

I am sure my face had to show my confusion, but Mark just turned, my hand clasped in his as we strode from our bedroom and descend down the stairs to where both Christopher and his girlfriend were waiting along with another man in a tux.

Prom.

Ava was going to prom.

The young man in front of me cleared his throat as his eyes moved upwards, both Mark and I turning to see our beautiful daughter standing at the top of the stairwell, looking at all of us in her eggplant color prom dress.

Tears sprang to my eyes at how beautiful she looked. She was a spitting imagine of me when I was young. As I looked back over at Mark, I could see his eyes watering, his face shinning with pride and love.

As the kids left, Mark and I moved to sit on the couch, his arm draped over my shoulders. It was more than twenty years together, but sitting on the couch with his arm around my shoulder felt like we were sitting down during the first few months of dating together.

"How did I get so lucky?" I asked out loud to our empty room.

"I ask myself that very question, every day," Mark replied.

I turned my head so I could look at him, both of us content and more in love then ever. "The best decision I ever said was yes."

His eyes deepened to a smoldering blue. "The best thing I ever did was fight for you." He paused. "Do you hear that?"

I broke eye contact and looked around the room. "No, what?"

He grinned. "Exactly. I waited more than eighteen years to get you all to myself again without kids barging in."

I laughed. "Your so sure you are going to get lucky, huh, big guy?"

His arm fell from my shoulder as he leaned back and grabbed hold of my legs so he could pull me in that my back was laying against the couch as he changed his position so he was looming over me.

"The odds are always in my favor."

My eyes closed, but when I opened them again, my life, my future that had been presented to me was gone. Those beautiful flashes of the life I supposedly had were gone.

My lashes fluttered a few times, as everything came into focus. I was laying in a hospital bed, there was an oxygen mask covering my mouth, and I had tubes all around my arms.

My eyes looked upwards and in the doorway were Mark and Owen, their backs to me as they were discussing in harsh whispers. My arms felt heavy, but I lifted my arm to slowly tried to pull the oxygen mask from my face. The small action caused enough of a stir to get both Mark's and Owen's attention as they turned to face me.

Mark's eyebrows rose in surprise, before his expression morphed into relief.

"Lex, you're awake!"

A/N: Hope you enjoyed.