This is a rendition of The Vow a Laurinah story by Wolfy009 on Wattpad. It is a take on the movie, a twist on a twist if you will starring Grey's Anatomy's Mark Sloan and Callie Torres. Feel free to read the original if you like. Make sure you like and comment, I love reviews. Also, keep in mind, I haven't seen the movie in it's entirety before I started this conversion, not that it matters. I read this story years ago and although it isn't complete nor does it include my otp, I couldn't deny that this was a nicely written body of work. One in which I thought to share with my own spin while I work through this horrible case of writer's block. Anyways, enjoy!

I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness and to have the patience that love demands, to speak when words are needed and to share the silence when they are not, to agree to disagree on red velvet cake, and to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it home.

I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love. And to always know in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way back to each other.

He couldn't stop it. The agonizing thoughts were on a never ending loop in his mind and he couldn't stop it. His brain acted like a VCR replaying the events of their day, everything leading up to that moment over and over like a a child and their favorite tape. He'd been living a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. He could hear the blare and shatter of the car's windshield echoing in his ears and then complete silence, darkness. The faint wail of an ambulance. Bright flashing colors through blurred vision. Angry red on tan skin, matted in thick, dark hair. Crushed glass pricking and gnawing at his hand as he struggled to move. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth. With eyes glazing over he stared off into his bandaged hand recalling the hazy memory fragments, his back chilled and numbed by the vending machine he was sitting against.

Sudden frantic beeping signaled a squad of nurses to rush down the lonely hallway forcing his attention to the commotion. Tired blue-grey eyes filled with alarm, he moved to stand from his position on the floor but paused as he say the nurses enter a room three doors down. Not her room.

He slumped back against the machine again, trying to relax and calm his nerves for the moment as he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. She was okay. His bandaged hand slipped from his lap to the cold wall and he let it rest there as he allowed his thoughts to consume him again.

It had been four long days since the accident. Four mornings waking up stiff and sore in a hard chair and dim hospital room. Four long days spent talking to unfamiliar doctors and nurses struggling to find answers and reassurance, pacing long empty corridors where time seemed to stand still and he felt completely helpless. They'd been taken to Seattle Grace Hospital where they would not only be surrounded by the best doctors but by family, their family. They'd all been working in shifts, round the clock to make sure their star ortho goddess was well taken care of. But even being surrounded by Seattle's and some of the world's best doctors, it wasn't enough to put him at ease. He was no longer Mark Sloan M.D., Head of Plastic Surgery at SGH, Fellow of the American College of Surgeons. After four nights far too quiet for his taste, spent next to his wounded sleeping beauty in a hospital bed, sitting in that damn chair and holding a warm hand that didn't squeeze back, he was just another terrified husband waiting on a miracle. All logical thinking had king dissipated. And on this night, sleep didn't finally overwhelm him like it eventually had the nights before. He felt too exhausted to even relax in the small, confining room. Too trapped in this thoughts and seeking a distraction for even just a moment. But sitting in the hallway did no good either, because it was about 5:30 in the morning and despite the emergency room three rooms away, it had been completely silent and still. It was too early for anything or anyone to distract him from his worries. Which his mind promptly returned to, now that the commotion had died down.

He couldn't take the gnawing urge to check in her any longer so he shrugged up, standing on his feet this time, bracing his shoulder against the way for the support his tired body needed. When he reached the door he opened it slowly and took soft steps inside the room, not that he would disturb it's resident anyhow since the brunette hadn't opened her eyes in four, now going on five agonizing days.

Mark reclaimed his seat next to Callie's bed, glancing at the monitor screens to make sure everything appeared stable, the same as it had the past few days. He reached out to feather his fingertips lightly across his wife's arm, checking her temperature of her skin and finding it slightly cool. Pulling the blanket up farther, he made sure that it was tucked and snug so Callie would be comfortable and warm enough, like he would on those nights he'd come in after her, when sleep would claim her before he returned home. Or the mornings she had a later start than he did allowing her a few more hours of rest. He'd watch her bury herself deeper into the mattress, immediately missing the warmth his body providing and pout. He'd round the bed to pepper her face with kisses while she pretended to be asleep even though they both knew the moment he peeled back the covers and rolled out of bed, she'd wake. With her eyes closed she's reach out for him and it wouldn't be until he uttered the words "I love you" that she would mumble her reply and drift back to sleep. He sat back down and gazed over her face for the thousandth time. Small cuts and a larger laceration were littered the side of Callie's right cheek. Her tan skin looked angry and purple now. The bruise taking full color from where her head had collided and broke the windshield. She had taken a pretty hard hit but the doctors, most importantly Derek, said her brain activity was promising. She had been put under a medically induced coma to give her brain time to heal and cope with the trauma. Mark almost wished they had done the same for him, as waiting while his wife was asleep for so long was trauma enough to last him a lifetime.

"Tomorrow you're gonna wake up baby, I know it," he whispered into the silent room, stroking a thumb over Callie's hand. Leaning his body forward, he rested his head and arm on the side of the bed next to his wife and forced himself to shut his eyes, keeping their hands connected while they slept.

When he woke hours later something was different. It was still quiet except for the steady beeping of the machines, but for the first time since he began calling the gloomy room time he felt a gentle grip on his hand pull him form his slumber. Shaking off sleep, he focused on his wife's face hoping to see deep brown eyes staring back at him. Instead he was met with an adorable dream induced pout, mirroring the one Callie wore frequently before waking up in the mornings. Mark sat up straight in his chair, attention on the brunette's grumpy scrunched up face, praying that his wife would open her eyes. When Callie's face relaxed and her hand loss pressure in it's grip, Mark felt his heart lurch and immediately turned his face to the monitors. Everything appearing normal, he sighed in relief and looked back to Callie.

"Come on Callie, you can do this. You gotta wake up baby," he coaxed, gently thumbing the palm of Callie's hand. When his wife's head turned slightly he shifted in his chair, determination set on his face.

"Calliope Iphigenia Torres-Sloan," drawing out her full name slowly, soothing circles into her skin, a huge excited grin broke out inn his face and he was hit with such overwhelming relief that this eyes filled with tears when he saw Callie's eyes gradually flutter open. That would do it.

Blinking several times in the dim light, Callie stared right at Mark with a quizzical expression through bleary orbs before glancing around the room. Mark sat perfectly still holding his breath and letting Callie adjust to her surroundings. Her gaze focused back on the blue-grey eyed man.

"Sloan?" Callie managed to croak out.

"Yeah, it's me sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

"Could I…have some water?" She whispered this time, her voice hoarse from its disuse.

"Yeah of course baby, one sec," Mark grabbed the pitcher of water off of the counter pouring a generous cup and handing it over where it was instantly tipped and sipped. He chucked at Callie's enthusiasm, watching some of the liquid spill form the cup down here neck, her shaky hands straining to keep it tilted as she guzzled. He grabbed a couple napkins to soak up the mess while Callie finished the last of her cup with a big burp just as he returned to his seat. Meeting each other's gaze the couple promptly broke out into a fit of laughter, Mark using several of the napkins to dab along her neck. When their laughter died down Callie grew solemn.

"What's happened? Is everyone okay?"

"We were in an accident, Cal. You don't remember? You hit your head pretty hard," Mark said cringing as he recalled his flashbacks to the accident. Callie appeared to be searching for her memories, her eyes staring off. "You're okay though. The lovely doctors we work with patched you up and Derek, he didn't find any damage to your brain. We were both really lucky."

"I don't…remember," the brunette squinted down at her hands. "We're we the only ones in the car? Did anyone else get hurt? Did you get hurt?" Callie questioned moving a hand to the examine a small stitched cut on Mark's cheek while Mark did the same, dropping the napkin he was using and cupping his wife's face gently. He'd sutured his own face once before, another time to ensure he wouldn't scare couldn't hurt.

"The other driver walked away unscathed, called 911. You and I, we were the only ones. An oil truck slid on the road and hit us. We slid on some black ice, spun out of control a bit and hit a pole. Me, I have a couple of cuts and bruises but I didn't have it as bad as you. You scared me to death woman. I'm so glad you're okay," He breathed stroking her cheek. Mark leaned in and kissed Callie gently, more of in injuries coming into focus momentarily as his lips brushing hers ever so softly. He pulled back after a few seconds reluctantly, his face, however, beaming in glee.

"Let me go alert the calvary so someone can come check you out and make sure everything's okay. Hopefully it is and we'll get to go home today!" He enthused rushing to the door.

"Home?!" She whisperer brushing her fingertips over her lips. Was she dreaming or had Mark really just kissed her?

She didn't have much time ti collect herself before Mark and a smiling nurse came through the door.

"Look who decided to wake up from their slumber party today. It's good ti have you back with us Callie. Did you have a good nap?" A nurse she was fond of, by the name of Julie asked walking over and extracted a long silver the shirt pocket on her scrubs.

"Yeah. I just feel pretty groggy."

"Well that's to be expected. You were out for a few days."

She clicked the flashlight in and instructed Callie to open her eyes and commenced to examine her pupil dilation. "Can you tell me who's the president right now Dr. Torres?"

"Obama." Callie answer squinting into the light.

"Good, I'm gonna have Doctor Shepherd come examine you also but everything is looking promising. Glad you're feeling better Dr. Torres. You had your husband very nervous for a while."

Nurse Julie winked at Mark before exiting the room and leaving Callie dumbstruck for a moment.

"Wait…what? What is she talking about?"

Mark sat down again taking Callie's hands in his.

"What do you mean baby?"

Callie looks down at their joined hand in confusion and for the first time her eyes caught the glint of light reflected. She focused on Mark's hand and saw a silver wedding band on his ring finger. Her gaze shot up to Mark's, suddenly inquisitive.

"What the fuck is that?" Callie questioned running a hand over the slim band adorning Mark's finger.

"Oh they took yours off during surgery but don't worry I've got it for you." Mark chuckled reaching into a bag on the nightstand, fishing out a matching silver band and what Callie assumed to be an engagement ring. Callie's eyes doubled in astonishment as Mark slipped the rings onto her ring finger and raised her hand to brush a kiss gently over her knuckles. The brunette gasped pulling her hand back out of the blonde man's grasp. Mark's face fell when he saw Callie's unease.

"Wait…we're…married!?"