The initial shock of seeing her faded quickly, replaced by feelings of pain and anger. He had given them a year, that it only took half that in no way surprised him. They sat in his kitchen, at the bar. She moved the beer bottle he had given her between her fingers, sliding it across the granite watching as he took large gulps of his before tossing it into the garbage, already filled with several. He stood, walking over to the sink to wash his hands before turning back toward her with his back leaned against the counter.

"How are you?" She couldn't think of anything else to say. They had spent the past twenty minutes staring at each other, his anger apparent on his face but he was too kind to close the door in her face. Instead he left it opened as he retreated back into his new home, leaving her to follow if she dared.

"I'm great." His voice was clipped, his eye contact direct. He was lying but she let it go.

"I've tried to call you."

"I didn't really have anything else to say to you."

At least the honesty was back, even if it was brutal. She nodded, glancing down at her drink before taking a small sip and placing it back down. He rubbed at his beard as her eyes scanned over him. He was thinner, wearing a black sweater and dark blue jeans that hung a little loosely on him. She wanted to say something else but she couldn't figure out where to begin.

"Mark -"

"Look, Torres, it's late. I have an early surgery in the morning and I should really head to bed."

"Oh."

"You can stay in the guest room if you want. Pillows and things are in the closet at the end of the hall."

He spoke matter of factly, his eyes going to a suitcase she had brought in with her.

"I assume you haven't checked into a hotel."

"No, I haven't. Thank you."

Mark nodded, pulling himself from the counter and exiting the kitchen. No other words exchanged.

Addison tapped her slender fingers impatiently against her desk, glancing up at her clock on the wall. She finally stood, walking around her desk and out into the main lobby. The receptionist, a young blond named Alice finished a call, scribbling down notes on a post it. She smiled up at Addison.

"I haven't heard anything, Dr. Montgomery."

"She should be here by now."

The young receptionist shrugged her shoulders with a smile, her eyes catching the elevator.

"Is that her?"

Addison twirled around in her four inch heels, her face lighting up like a kid with a new toy.

"Callie!" She called, running up to the raven haired beauty who turned in circles unsure of where she was at.

Her head snapped in Addison's direction, a toothy smile spreading across her face.

"Addison!"

The old friends embraced, arms still entangled as they pulled back to look at each other. Addison tugged at a strand of Callie's hair.

"Oh my God, look at you. You look so good!"

Callie mimicked the gesture, running her fingers through Addison's flame colored hair. "No, you look good!"

Cooper and Violet stood outside their offices, curious eyes on the new stranger that had Addison squealing like a school girl.

"Who's that?" Cooper asked.

"I don't know." Violet answered.

"She's hot."

Violet rolled her eyes, retreating back into her office. "I won't tell Charlotte you said that."

"What?" He questioned like a little boy who had been caught, following behind her.

"So...did you sleep with him?"

They were in Addison's office, a few hours later, lunch brought in from a new restaurant Addison wanted to try called, Besitos, spread all over her desk. Callie sat across from her, her fork stabbing at her salad.

"What?"

"I'm not judging or anything. But you two do have a history of...ya know."

Addison tilted her head down to gaze at her friend over invisible glasses.

"Did you?" Callie asked again, for some reason really needing an answer.

"No. I have not slept with Mark." She watched as her younger friend's shoulders dropped, a piece of salad finally making it into her mouth. "In fact, Mark hasn't slept with anyone that he'd have to see the next day."

"What does that mean?"

"It means a string of one night stands with nameless women. The last thing he's looking for is a relationship."

She flinched when she saw Callie wince at the last words.

"How did things go last night?"

"It was awkward. And tense. And uncomfortable..." Callie trailed off.

Her friend gave her a sympathetic pout. "He's letting you stay with him, that's something."

"Yeah, but I don't know if that was just a one night thing or... I woke up this morning and he was gone. I'm pretty sure we exchanged five words last night."

Addison leaned back in her chair, a sigh escaping her.

"It wasn't a good day for him yesterday."

Callie's eyes narrowed in question.

"He lost a patient. 22 years old."

The raven haired surgeon let out a breath. "I didn't know that."

"You couldn't have."

A moment of silence passed before a light tap came to the door.

"Addison, can I have a consult - Hey!"

"Naomi, you remember Callie right? I think you two met a couple of years ago in Seattle."

Callie stood to greet her.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. What are you doing here? Decided it was time for a visit?"

"I um -" Callie glanced back at Addison for help only to find her friend twisting her mouth as she scratched her head.

"She, she's-" she cleared her throat as Naomi watched Addison awkwardly get her thoughts together. "She's...Mark. She's Mark." She gave up with flick of hand, leaning forward in her chair.

Callie turned back to Naomi to see if she had picked up on any of that. She had.

"Ohhhhhh. You're...Ohhh. Gotcha. Girl what did you do to him?"

Callie inhaled, pulling her lips between her teeth, her eyes finding a new fascination with the ceiling.

"Cancel my next consult! Cancel all my appointments not related to the ears, throat or nose!"

Sloan's voice boomed as he stumped through the center, a slam of the door ringing loudly. The three surgeons looked up, glancing toward the expansive window.

"What was that about?" Naomi asked turning back to them.

Addison frowned with a shake of her head. She began to stand, halting halfway when Charlotte, trailed by Sam still in scrubs entered.

"He lost another one." Charlotte stated, her twang lingering on the word 'another'.

"You're kidding?" Naomi spoken with furrowed brows, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Sam.

"It was your standard Lipoplasty." Sam informed them. "Respiratory failure, again."

"How likely is that to have back to back deaths with respiratory failure?"Addison questioned, finally standing.

"We checked the equipment, went over the procedure. The first girl was perfectly healthy. Just some twisted coincidence." Charlotte offered.

The group stood together, letting the information run through their heads.

"So," Charlotte finally said, breaking the silence. "Who are you?"

The southern blond peered at Callie.

"Oh, this is Callie," Addison introduced, walking around her desk. "She my old friend from Seattle."

"The orthopedic surgeon." Sam chimed in, extending his hand.

"That'll be me."

"So what brings you to LA?"

It was decided that Mark didn't need everyone hovering over him, that he needed his space. Addison and Naomi encouraged Callie to go to him if only to be an ear. She found him in his living room, sitting on the edge of the sofa. A large bottle of scotch sat on the coffee table with a glass, a quarter of the way full. He sat there unmoving until he felt the urge to finish the shot and pour himself another one. He turned his head slightly when he heard the creaking of the wooden floors.

"What'd you two fight over this time?" He spat the words, slamming the glass back down onto the table. "Hmm? What'd you two fight about?"

She stopped mid step. Maybe she should wait until morning.

"Mark-"

"Just go back, Callie. Everything'll be fine. You two are meant for each other."

The malice behind the statement wasn't lost on her.

"That's what you want to hear, right? That's all I'm good to you for."

She continued her short walk into the room, standing over him as he eyed his glass.

"I'm sorry about your patient."

"I don't want to talk about my patient. I wanna talk about why you're here."

"I made a mistake," her voice was low. She looked down at him waiting for him to look up at her but his eyes stayed fixed on his glass. "I made a really, really horrible mistake and you'll never know how sorry I am that I hurt you."

He poured another shot.

"I change my mind." he said before gulping it.

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about why you're here. I actually don't give a damn about why you're here, so you can leave now."

"I'm not leaving."

At that he found himself laughing, twisting his torso to look up at her. He turned away attempting to take another drink before suddenly tossing it across the room, the glass shattering against the wall. Callie jumped, her brown eyes watching as the amber liquid slid down the wall onto the floor. He stood, walking around the table, pacing back and forth.

"I get that you're angry. I'm trying to make it right."

"The hell you are! Would you even be here if everything were still sunshine and rainbows with Robbins? Huh! You did this."

"You didn't have to leave, Mark."

His pacing stopped. His blue eyes baring into her with incredulous irony.

"I wasn't the one who left, Torres." He walked up to her, his liquored breath sweeping across her face. "You left. I asked you to stay. I begged you to stay."

She felt slightly intimidated, but she didn't back away, seeing hints of something old in his eyes. Something that always warmed her when he looked at her. It was clouded with loss and rage, but enough remained.

"I'm sorry."

"Leave."

"I'm not leaving."

She watched as he disappeared down the hall, stumbling slightly in his tipsy state. Doors were slammed before he reemerged, her suitcase in hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I am so sick of being the person you come to when everything falls apart. I am not your security blanket. I am not your safety net. I'm done."

The suitcase fell with a loud thud beside the front door.

"Mark, please don't do this."

She tried her best not to shake under the weight of his tantrum, silently begging herself not to cry. But she felt the tears sting before they burst onto her blushing cheeks.

"Get out!"

"No!"

His strides toward her were long and quick, his hand gripping around her wrist to pull her across the room.

"I'm not leaving!"

Her determination couldn't match his strength. She tried to tug herself free but she felt herself clumsily tumble forward. She would have fallen had his bruising hold not have been so tight.

"Mark please!"

The front door was swung open before she could say another word. He wasn't hearing her, consumed with emotions that made him want to hurt something or someone. He pushed her out, tossing her suitcase so that it landed a dozen feet away.

"Mark!"

The front door answered her in reply, locks turning into place. She banged on it anyway, screaming for him to answer it.

"Please, don't do this! Mark, please open the door. Please!"

She wailed, her hands forming into fist as she continued to bang. Mark leaned against it on the other side, tears of his own falling as his heart broke more than he thought was possible. But he was done. He was never the first choice. Addison, Lexi, Callie, they never made him the first choice and he was done. Callie's hands grew tired, her palms pressed flat against it.

"Mark?"

She waited for a reply. There was none.