A little short, but I'm surprised I got even this much written. Enjoy!
Mark turned slowly, shooting me one last pathetic look. His eyes begged me to say what I knew I should. It was after his eyes left mine and the power of his stare released me that I made up my mind. I could not do this to him.
"Mark." I reached out tentatively and touched his arm. Mark shrugged away from me but turned back all the same, his eyes reignited with hope. "I, uhm…I don't think I'm going to keep the baby, actually…"
The relief that spread on his face was obvious, but was there something else there? A hint of sadness, maybe? Disappointment? Or was that simply my mind seeing what it wanted to see? Mark sighed, his entire body sagging as he dropped the weight from his shoulders. He let his hand, which had been gripping the doorknob, fall back to his side and turned completely around.
"Really? Are you…are you sure that's what you want? You don't have…you know, if you don't want to…" But as he spoke, I knew his words were false. They were so flimsy, I could see through them, right to his internal wish that I had meant what I said. I knew he was only going through this routine to be a gentleman.
"No…really. I don't want to ruin your life, or mine for that matter. I don't really want kids anyway…I mean, maybe someday, I'll change my mind, or…or something, but…not now." Mark was silent for a moment, his brain processing the situation and my words. Then, without warning, his arms wrapped around me in a slightly awkward but definitely friendly manner.
"Thank you," he whispered in my ear. I stood perfectly still, unsure of what to do and also afraid that if I moved, he would leave. He dropped his arms from me quickly, but I still felt the warmth of them, as though he had burned permanent marks into my skin. In a way, he did; I would always remember how he felt and how he made me feel.
He stood rocking gently back and forth between me and the door. He seemed like he wanted to say something or thought he should say something, but desperately wanted to leave. I could not blame him for that or for anything else. It was my fault we were in this mess and so I had to let him go.
"I'll be alright," I tried to assure him. "Go to Lexie. I'm sure you have some explaining to do about what happened before." I smiled bravely at him, but it probably looked more like a grimace.
"I'm going to tell her," he promised. He must have thought that that was what I wanted to hear. But I wished he had said the opposite.
"No!" I said quickly. Mark blinked, clearly confused. "There's no need to ruin your relationship for me. I'm just a stupid mistake; Lexie's real."
"So…you want me to lie to her?" he asked slowly. He took an unconscious step towards me so that I could smell his cologne. I felt sick in the stomach, head, and heart all at once.
"I want you to keep this part of your life a secret so that you can move on," I clarified.
…
"I don't know what to do Callie," Mark sighed into his phone. He had not even bothered to search for an on-call room. Instead, he was slouched on the ground outside of the hospital where the smokers crept off to whenever they had the chance. The ground was damp from the almost never-ending Seattle rain and littered with cigarette butts, but Mark was able to find a relatively dry and clean area beside the doors. "I really want to just listen to her and keep this between us, but at the same time, it wouldn't be fair to Lexie. And what if, sometime in the future, Layla decides I've pissed her off and she runs to Lexie about all of this? I'd be even more screwed than I am now."
"Mark, I can't tell you what to do, because it's not my life," Callie answered patiently. "But I will say that if I were in your position, I would tell her. It's better to come clean than try to cover it up."
"Are you sure this isn't Blondie I'm talking to? You sure sound a lot like her right now." Callie laughed shortly. "I guess you're right. I'm just afraid to lose her Cal. I've never been like this before."
"I know buddy," Callie soothingly replied. "I know. But it's the right thing to do. If you lose her in the process, it's a shame, but better back out with dignity than have it all blow up in your face later. Again though, I can't tell you what to do. It's your decision."
Mark half sighed and half groaned, letting his head fall backwards against the brick wall of the hospital. There was a dull thud at the point of contact, but Mark showed no signs of feeling pain.
"So when are you coming home?" Mark asked after a long break, changing the subject in an attempt to clear his mind.
I stopped listening and turned away sharply. I hadn't intended to eavesdrop on Mark and Callie's conversation, it had just happened. I was on my way out for a smoke (I don't smoke really, only when I'm really stressed or upset or something like that.) and I heard his voice. I found him sitting beside the door and quickly retreated so he couldn't see me. I was so close that I could even hear Callie through the phone. Spying was something I did without thinking about it.
I did not smoke my cig. After hearing Mark's conversation with Callie, the urge was suddenly gone. I was no longer wired and high-strung; now I felt dead, numb. I could not decide if I was happy that Mark would soon be single or if I was depressed I was destroying him.
If I was going to be brutally honest with myself, which I had been doing a lot recently, I was not at all happy that Mark was about to mangle his relationship with Lexie beyond repair, or that I was the one who had already screwed it up so much there was no way to fix it. I could not feel any joy in me at the thought of Mark, single and available. I wondered if that was because I knew he would not be with me even if he had the opportunity. But really it was because I didn't want to be with him if this was the cost.
So instead of taking a cigarette break to calm myself, I ran as far and as fast as I could in the opposite direction, finding an abandoned corner of the hospital where the shadows were my only witnesses. There I let myself feel all of the unknown, unexplained, repressed emotions I had been experiencing. There I broke down and cried like I had been given the death sentence, or had received news that I had stage four cancer. There I decided that I had to leave Seattle Grace Hospital to save both myself and the one I loved.