I Stared At The Sun

Summary: Mark perspective in "The Girl That Wasn't" series.

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"I hate the world today..."

Meredith Brooks

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He has one resounding memory of his sister, one moment that he will never forget for as long as he lives. It had been a few days after her fourteenth birthday, and she'd begun to get excited and nervous about high school that she would be starting the next day. Their father had promised a special dinner to mark the occasion of his little girl growing up into a young woman, but he'd inevitably been held up at the base, and Mark had muttered "typical" under his breath upon which Sam nudged him, and glared meaningfully. As much as they were distant from their father, Lizzie still adored him and Sam was loathed to shatter her illusions.

In the end, they had all cooked together in the large kitchen that their suburban house possessed. When Sam remarked that they were missing a plate, Mark volunteered to search the house for said kitchenware. He'd found it underneath his own bed, rapidly turning into one of his sister's science projects. Shame faced, he walked down the stairs to hear the tones of Aretha Franklin booming around the kitchen.

"What you want, baby, I got it"

He smiled at hearing the music that his mother had indulged in, and realised that Sam and Lizzie must have decided to raid their parents LP collection. Turning the corner he grinned at the sight of his two sisters singing alternate lines of the song, using a whisk as their microphone and miming perfectly to Aretha's voice, having learnt the lyrics in their childhood.

"What you need, baby, you know I got it"

Mark had almost doubled over laughing at Lizzie prancing round the kitchen, whisk at her mouth singing to the song whilst Sam danced with the rhythm, and for someone who claimed a lack of any talent, she was doing pretty well at it.

"All I'm asking is for a little respect, yeah baby"

They sang the next line together, dancing back to back and then turning round to face each other, both with beaming smiles and a complete lack of embarrassment. Mark had then decided to make himself known.

"Never knew my two little sisters had such musical talent," He had smirked, entering the kitchen and Lizzie dashed to turn the music down to a more appropriate level. Sam theatrically bowed at his compliment and Elizabeth just blushed profusely; even with family she'd been afraid of showing off, maintaining her shy attitude even around he and Sam. He indicated towards the plate in his hand, "Found it by the way."

"Mark!" Sam cringed as she saw the mould on the plate, grabbing it from his grasp"How long have you been keeping that?" She sunk the plate into the warm water in the sink.

"Knowing Mark I'd say a couple of years..." Lizzie offered before avoiding his playful swipe.

They had spent the night eating around the television, playing jokes on each other and ridiculing the television presenters that littered the programming. If only every night could have been like that with his sisters, with his family. Most nights they spent apart; Sam in her bedroom studying, he out partying with Therese and Lizzie and their father downstairs trying to maintain a facade of normality. That shouldn't have been life. For her. For any of them.

"Looks the same doesn't it?" His sister's voice came from behind him and he saw her shadow approaching. He nodded wordlessly to her question as he stared up at the house with a mixture of fond remembrance and hate. His sister had died here, had spent her last moments contemplating life, and had decided to end it. Yet she had also spent hours laughing here, smiling with the innnocence of youth. He could almost see her sitting on the rickety swing hanging off the elm tree, despite being removed after twenty odd years and several owners.

"I wish..." He paused, "I wish she'd have waited." To an outside observer it would have seemed the strangest thing to say. Shouldn't he have wanted to stop her? But then, a stranger to Lizzie wouldn't have experienced her stubborness and the futility in attemtping to change her mind. Despite being an extreme introvert, she did share one trait with the rest of the Carter family; the inability to change her mind. Neither Sam nor Mark were so naive as to think that they could have changed Lizzie's mind "So I could have just said goodbye."

He heard Sam sigh, "I don't think there would ever be enough goodbyes..." She mused, sidling next to him and threading her arm through his as they stood, looking at the house with its dark windows and boarded up door, "I could never have let her go."

Mark wordlessly agreed with her, "Is Dad OK?"

He heard Sam breathe deeply, "As well as can be expected. You and the kids should come back to Colorado." She paused, leaning her head on his shoulder in a gesture reminscent of their childhood, "He'd love to see you. Especially now."

"Maybe," Mark replied, erring more towards visiting his sister than not. At that time, only she and their father could understand what they felt, "Katie's been talking about seeing Annie and Jake for days."

He could imagine Sam slightly smiling at that, "Annie can't wait to play with her big cousin."

Silence overtook the pair as they lost themselvs in memories, of times they had spent together and apart, all the while wishing for their mother and sister to be home, "Doesn't ever get better, does it?"

Mark shook his head. He missed his mother and his sister as much now as he had during those dark months of loneliness. The loss had almost got worse with the passing of the years, every day a moment that his mom could not watch her grandchildren and another moment that Elizabeth would not be able to achieve her dreams, "No, it doesn't" He replied simply. Mark just hoped that his own children would never have to suffer the grief of death so early as himself and his sisters.

And as the minutes passed, Sam retreated to her car and the loving arms of her husband but Mark stood out in the road for a few more seconds, staring up into the dim sun on the cloudly day in Ohio. There would always be a part of his sister in his heart; she was candy canes and snowflakes and the one person that kept him believing in innocence. And he ould always remember his mother from a time when he didn't care about being a "mommy's boy" and wrapped his arms around her waist and she would laugh, sitting him on the counter and made him and his sisters cookies.

As he looked up to the sun, he remembered it all.

The End