~*~*~*~*~*~

"You were so brave," Al said, gently sitting on the bed beside his daughter. "Calliope, she's beautiful."

Callie smiled as Amelia stretched in Margie's arms. "She really is."

"How could you not tell us?" Margie asked softly, stroking the baby's hair. "You didn't have to hide this. Or Emily."

"Your reaction today would suggest otherwise."

"We were shocked," Al replied, taking her hand. "We came to one birthday party and wound up celebrating three. Your friend Meredith filled us in on the circumstances surrounding Emily's adoption. What these children went through -"

"Made them amazing," Callie interrupted. "I always thought that Jack was the best thing I could do, but now I know that my *family* is the best thing. And that's what we are. It may not be your idea of perfect, but it's mine."

"They're wonderful kids." Al reached up and brushed an errant strand of hair off Callie's cheek. "And they certainly love you. Emily is so angry at your mother and me that she won't have anything to do with us."

"She told me I wasn't much of a mother," Margie said, lifting Amelia to her shoulder when she began to fuss. "She's got a sharp tongue, that one."

"She's truthful." Meeting her mother's eyes, Callie took a deep breath. "I've spent a lot of years wondering if you didn't want kids ... or if you just didn't want *me*, Mom."

Margie gasped. "That is a *horrible* thing to say."

"No, that's not horrible," replied Callie. "I could never look at Emily and tell her that she's fat. Even if she was. I'd never blame any of my kids for being sick no matter how much it inconveniences me when they are. And I'd know ... and try to help ... if one of them cried themselves to sleep every night because the people at school tormented -"

"You weren't the only one crying every night," Al spoke before his wife could. "Your sickness hit a little too close to home for us and we handled it poorly."

"What do you -" Callie began.

"You had an older sister, honey," he replied. "She was three when they found the cancer in her brain and she died while Margie was pregnant with you."

Margie wiped a tear off her cheek and concentrated on the infant in her arms while she spoke. "I had just buried a little girl and when you finally came, Callie ... I was petrified to love you because I thought you'd leave, too." She finally looked at Callie. "And ... and I guess I resented you. I punished you because it felt like God sent you to replace your sister and I didn't want a replacement."

Her eyes filling with tears, Callie shook her head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was our pain. Not yours," Al said, still clinging to her hand. "Losing a child-"

"I lost a baby too, Dad, but I still love -"

"We still love you," Margie cut in. "Never doubt that."

"I've spent a lifetime doubting it. Why stop now?" Callie shrugged. The simple act of drawing her shoulders upward sent a bolt of pain through her midsection. "Oh god. This sucks."

"You want something for the pain?" Al softly asked.

Callie nodded, then motioned for Margie to give her back the baby as her father hurried from the room. "I want to hang onto her until the shot knocks me out."

Margie surrendered her granddaughter and watched through teary eyes as Callie kissed the little girl on the forehead. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. For everything."

"Mom-"

"What you feel right now when you look at her ... it took me a while to feel it with you, but I did feel it. And the reason I forced you to go to school and pretended that the disease didn't exist was because I wanted you to be strong enough to beat it."

"Sending me to a place where I was tormented every second of the day didn't really make me want to live."

"No, but it made you a fighter." Margie sat down beside her on the bed, facing her. "It turned you into a *woman* who isn't afraid."

"You think I'm not afraid?! I fear everything."

"No, you don't. Your classmates tormented you, but you still stood up on graduation day and insulted them right to their face with your Valedictorian speech. Your first boyfriend beat you almost to death and the second you were released from the hospital ... you fought back. And look at you now. Your husband cheated on you, you lost your baby, and instead of letting it beat you ... you've started over and you're in a better place." Margie cupped her daughter's face, smiling sadly. "Maybe my methods left a lot to be desired, but I don't think I'd change it, Callie. Because ... you've become everything I ever wanted you to be."

Mark and Addison arrived before Callie could respond. He scooped Amelia out of her arms and kissed her as Addison gave Callie an injection for the pain. Margie helped her daughter settle back into the bed and smiled down at her. "You didn't tell us, honey. What's her name?"

"Amelia Grace."

"Oh my God." Margie turned and looked at Al, who was standing in the doorway.

Al smiled at Callie. "Your sister's name was Grace. Gracie."

Callie wanted to reply. She wanted to tell them that she understood now. That she wasn't *really* angry at them anymore.

But the shot was potent.

Before she drifted off to sleep, she saw Mark kiss Amelia on the head and Callie smiled.

She honestly believed that there was more than just one baby in the room at that moment. Maybe Gracie was there.

And maybe the baby she had lost was hovering nearby, not really missing the family she *could* have had ... because she would always be a part of it anyway.

*~*~*~*~*

Callie did not get released from the hospital immediately. For two days, she ran a fever close to one hundred and three and spent most of her time sleeping under a mound of cover. The baby thrived, however, and on the third day, Callie found the strength to walk her up and down the hallway, bouncing her lightly in her arms. Addison didn't care for this particular habit of Callie's and told her she was moving too fast, but Callie wouldn't listen. Not listening caused an infection that put her flat on her back for five full days. Webber wouldn't let Addison sign Amelia's release forms however and suggested that she be moved into Callie's room full time. Having the baby nearby was better medication than the antibiotic and Callie bounced back quickly.

Cristina arrived the day that she was being released and dropped a bombshell on her. "Izzie accepted a residency in Maine. She's officially gone."

"Shut up!" Callie said so loudly that she woke up the baby, who made her annoyance loud and clear. Callie soothed her and stared at Cristina. "How's George?"

"Honestly, I think he's so relieved to breathe again that he probably would have packed her shit onto his back and walked it across the country." Cristina held her arms out and took the baby while Callie dressed in her sweatsuit. "How do you feel?"

"Ready to get home."

"I made sure everything was ready. Belinda put me to work when I stopped by to take Jack and Emily some movies."

Callie heard something in her friend's voice and looked at her. "She's off limits, Yang."

"You think I'm trying to sleep with your nanny!? Please! She's in her *forties*."

"And that's stopped you when?"

"Her fried chicken is really good." Cristina grinned.

"That better be the only thing you *ever* figure out is good about her."

"Awww, Torres, are you jealous of me and the babysitter?"

"You're onto me."

Meredith knocked on the door and waltzed in. Without a word, she scooped Amelia out of Cristina's arms and cradled her against her chest. Cristina nudged her friend with her foot. "Did I say I was finished with her, hog?"

"Shut up. You practically live at Callie's place. You get her all the time." Meredith breathed the baby's scent in. "I need to have a kid."

"Oh fuck." Cristina groaned and put her face in her hands. "I'm just saying ... too many little people will result in like ... Children of the Corn or something. Did you *see* Village of the Damned? They'll outnumber us and we'll be doomed."

"My kids are perfect," Callie told her, easing down onto the bed. She was sore in places she had never been aware of before. "Except for Amelia and something tells me that she's going to be a handful. She literally split me apart coming out."

"How are your stitches?" Cristina asked, studying Callie's face.

"I don't know, 'stina. I haven't put a mirror between my legs to look."

"Want me to -"

"If I thought you could do it without wanting to comfort the broken 'pie' ... I'd let you go there." Callie laughed when Cristina blushed profusely. "As it stands, Sloan will be doing all the examining *and* comforting."

"I thought I made it clear that I am over you. I saw the ripping and tearing ... therefore I don't want you that way."

"And that's why I know you never loved me," Callie replied impishly. "It's all Mark can talk about. Sex, I mean."

"Yeah, he was beside your *head*. I was where all the action was," Cristina pointed out. "And platonic love can be just as fun as dirty love."

"George wouldn't agree," Meredith said, bouncing the baby when she started to cry. "According to him he's swearing off all women."

"The gays don't want him either. Someone should tell him that." Cristina stood up and reached for Amelia. "You don't know how to make her happy. Give her here."

"I can make her happy," Meredith groused, pushing the woman's arms away.

Amelia's screams reached a fevered pitch and Mark sailed into the room looking furious. "Why is she crying?"

Cristina rolled her eyes. "Because after we dropped her on her head, we spanked her for being peeing in her pants."

"Very funny," he growled, taking his daughter from Meredith. His huge hand spanned her entire back as he rubbed up and down her little body. Within seconds, Amelia had calmed down and was sucking on her fist. "She's hungry," he said.

"She is not hungry. She just ate. She wants her pacifier." Callie held it up to him.

He put it in Amelia's mouth and watched her latch onto it. "Why do babies like these things? All that work for nothing."

"It's too easy. I can't go there." Cristina held up her hands.

"Don't talk dirty in front of the baby," Mark snapped. "Little pitchers have big ears."

Callie chuckled. "It only matters if they understand what they're hearing, love."

"Love?" Cristina pretended to gag. "That's my cue to leave."

"Mine, too." Meredith lifted the diaper bag from the floor and put it on the bed. "Derek and I will be stopping by tomorrow to see you. Okay?"

"Sure," Callie replied. "Anytime."

Mark watched the women leave before he leaned down and kissed Callie. "You called me love."

"And I meant it."

"Want to stop at the courthouse on the way home, Cal?" he asked, only half joking. "I'm in if you are."

"Not today."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't you *dare* start that shit again."

She got to her feet with a groan. "When I marry you ... and believe me I'm going to ... I plan on having so much honeymoon sex that we may nearly die from it. And we can't have sex yet. That is *all* that's stopping us."

"So you'll marry me in six weeks?" he asked hopefully.

"We'll see."

"Where are we going on our honeymoon?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"I've always wanted to see Italy."

"You want to go to another continent and leave our kids on this one?"

"Baby, by the time you actually marry me ... they'll be in college."

"Oh ye of little faith." Callie reached for the bag, but he smacked her hand. "No lifting."

"Don't you dare start that shit again."

"I do know where the handcuffs are. Don't make me use them."

"Think we could get them through international security?"

"If not we'll pay them back by joining the mile high club on whatever airline we use."

"I like the way you think."

*~*~*~*~*

Mark had many favorite things when it came to Callie. He loved the way she smelled after a shower while her skin was still dewy. The way her hair curled against her cheek while she slept mesmerized him. Her laugh, so rich and vibrant, always brought a smile to his face when he heard it ... even if he was across the room. The way she looked their children in the eye when they spoke to her and the way she understood their plight amazed him. By far and away, though, his favorite thing of all was watching Callie feed their baby.

Derek and Meredith had given them an antique rocking chair and Callie would sit in it, slowly rocking Amelia, while she sank to her in a soft, sweet voice. When she sang a particular Spanish lullaby, Mark's heart would swell until he was sure it would pop in his chest. He never let Callie know that he was watching. It was her time with the baby, a special moment for mother and child, but it touched him. And he loved her more than he ever dreamed he could.

Emily and Jack only had to be told once to keep their noise level down. They seemed to understand that the baby needed as much sleep as Callie did and would quietly play in their bedrooms for hours. The only time they truly got upset was when Amelia cried and for three weeks that's all the baby did thanks to a bout of colic. It cleared up fast thanks to Pete and Addison working together and by the fourth week, Amelia would sleep in her swing while her older siblings took turns making sure her pacifier stayed in her mouth.

Amelia truly was a gorgeous baby. Of course, their friends agreed, but random strangers would approach Mark and Callie when they took her out in public to confirm it. Her brown eyes were shaped like Callie's and her black hair stuck straight up on top, prompting Cristina to nickname the child 'spider monkey'. Mark retaliated on his daughter's behalf and called Cristina 'eggroll' which stuck. Soon Jack and Emily were calling Yang that as well, but she took it in stride and answered to it every single time.

If Amelia was fussy, a warm bath would soothe her immediately and she was usually fast asleep by the time they dried her off. To the absolute amazement of her parents, she began to sleep straight through the night by her sixth week ... which caused Mark and Callie to almost kill themselves the first morning after a full night's sleep. They raced down the hallway to check on her, only to find her bright eyed and gazing up at her silent mobile.

That day, Cooper Freedman made the house call with Addison. He had flown in for a few hours to do Amelia's six week checkup. Jack, who remembered 'Coop' from Los Angeles, wrapped himself around the man like a fur stole and Emily followed suit within ten minutes. Mark, who recognized the man from the infamous video, did *not* enjoy the visit as much as his children did. When Cooper hugged Callie and dared, actually DARED, to touch her hair ... Mark had to put his hands in his pocket to keep from throttling him.

Amelia's check up was perfect, but Callie was informed that her cervix was inflamed again. Addison prescribed strong antibiotics and fretted over Callie's weight loss, which was impressive and *severe*. Callie assured her that she was eating more than enough, but chasing after two six year olds and dealing with the demands of an infant was more exercise than she had ever gotten in her life. Addy didn't buy it and privately gave Mark a tongue lashing for letting Callie starve. Which wasn't true, but it still made her feel better about it.

Nine weeks after Amelia's birth, Callie was finally given the all clear. Sex was within reach. Instead of hurrying to tell Mark the good news, she headed to Bailey's house. She called Mark from there and reminded him that he was supposed to arrive after work as well. When Mark got there, everyone was wearing suits and dresses and Derek took him aside, showing him the suit that was hanging on the closet door.

"I knew you'd forget that it was formal."

"I didn't forget!" Mark rubbed the back of his neck. "Why are we doing this again?"

Derek sighed. "For the fifth time in as many days, Chief Webber wants a photo of the staff in the front lobby of the hospital. And you *know* that he finds reasons for us to get dressed up."

Mark grumbled the entire time he changed. There were no words to describe how exhausted he was and nothing sounded better to him than going home, curling up beside Callie, and hoping that the kids let them sleep. When he sat down to pull on his black dress shoes, Derek sat beside him and said, "What's the best part about being a father?"

Smiling, Mark glanced at him. "The unconditional love. They adore you no matter what and they tell you so without saying a word."

Derek cleared his throat, staring pointedly at his friend. When Mark didn't take the bait, Derek rolled his eyes. "Ask me why I want to know."

"Uh ... okay. Why do you-"

"Because I'm going to be a father in ... oh ... seven months. Meredith's pregnant."

"DUDE! Congrats!"

The men got to their feet, embracing tightly while they clapped each other on the back. Cristina walked in while they were still hugging and she wrinkled her nose. "Man love. Power to the gays!"

"Shut up, eggroll," Mark shot back. "Are you here to break the camera? Who invited you?"

Cristina shrugged. "The same person with such low standards that they'd allow your ugly mug in the frame."

"Touche." Mark adjusted the sleeve of his jacket and held his arm out toward the woman. "You want an escort?"

"Sorry. Not so much," Yang replied. "But you and Derek make a sweet, sweet pair."

Derek pointed his finger at her. "*He* is the one who called you 'butch'. Don't blame me. Like you ... I love the gays. In a platonic way."

Webber appeared behind Cristina and tapped his watch impatiently. "None of you have a concept of time."

"All this for a photo," Mark groused, following Derek into the hallway.

Derek turned in front of the patio doors and looked up at his friend. "By the way, Callie had a message for you. She said that it's time for you to be the one who's put on the spot."

Mark frowned. "What does that mean?"

"No idea." But the knowing smile that Derek had suggested otherwise.

As soon as they stepped into the back yard, Mark knew something was going on besides a photo. There were roughly fifty white folding chairs and a majority of those were filled with coworkers. When Mark's eyes landed on Margie, he *knew*. He wasn't here for a photo. He was here for a wedding.

His own.

The smile that spread across his face was huge and the relief outweighed the shock. This was it, their wedding day. It wasn't a church or a big affair, but it wasn't the courthouse either and that was enough. He turned and looked at Derek, who simply nodded at him and then Jack was there beside him, wearing a suit. He tugged Mark's pants leg and said, "I gots mom's ring, Dad, but I can't give it to you until they ask for it. Emily has yours."

Mark squatted down beside him, his heart pounding in his chest. "Where's your mom?"

"Addy's fixin' her hair." Jack tugged at his collar. "Mom said I can be your best man. Okay?"

"You're always my best man," Mark replied, hugging him. He leaned back and straightened his son's tie, then turned the collar down on his jacket a little neater.

"Are you surprised?" Jack asked quietly.

"Your mom told me that she would marry me one day."

"You look surprised. Maybe even scared." Jack touched the vein in his dad's throat. "Mom's neck is moving a whole bunch right here, too. She said it's cause she's scared."

"I'm not scared, buddy. I'm excited. And I'm happy."

"We're happy, too. Me and Emily and Amelia, even though she can't say it yet. She was smilin'." Jack hugged him again, holding on a little longer than he usually did. "I love you, Dad. We're gettin' *married*."

"I love you, too, kid." Mark patted him on the back.

"It's time," Derek interjected. "She kept it small. Jack's standing up for you and Emily's standing up for her."

"And Amelia-"

"She's the bouquet," Jack informed him. "Her dress is all flowery and she has a ugly flower thing on her head."

Mark got to his feet, taking Jack's hand. Jack felt the trembling and looked up at his dad, grinning. Then he winked and Mark had to laugh. His son may not have his DNA, he thought, but he was a Sloan through and through. Within minutes, Emily was heading down the backyard wearing a purple dress that matched Jack's tie. She stopped in front of Mark and crooked her finger, giving him a hug and kiss when he bent down.

"Do I look pretty?" she asked quickly.

"You look beautiful, squirt," he replied, tugging her hair.

"Mom does, too," replied Emily, pointing behind her as she stepped off to one side.

Callie was walking toward him, dressed in a beautiful ivory dress and Amelia was indeed the only thing she carried in her arms. Al walked beside her, beaming with pride and he shook Mark's hand before he gave him Callie's. Mark leaned down to kiss her, but the minister behind them cleared his throat and Mark stood up again with a look on his face that caused everyone to laugh.

The ceremony was quick. Callie may have put him on the spot with the surprise wedding, but she did not make him think on his feet. They spoke traditional vows and then the children were giving them their rings and both adults were fighting hard not to cry. Amelia decided to wake up when they finally did kiss and she laughed out loud for the first time when the minister announced Mr. and Mrs. Mark Sloan.

Apart from hearing Callie say 'I do' ... it was the sweetest sound Mark had ever heard. He took the baby from his wife and held onto her as everyone got to their feet and applauded.

And just like that, the Sloan family became legal in every way, shape, and form. But only on paper. Because in their hearts ... they had been all along.

- Finish

.

.

.

Epilogue

- Ten Years later -

"MOM!" Emily cried, racing up the stairs into Callie and Mark's bedroom. Her parents were reclining on the bed, kissing, and she rolled her eyes. "Jack's got my car. Can I borrow yours?"

"Why does Jack have your car?" Callie asked.

"Because he thinks he's funny." Emily crossed her arms over her chest. At sixteen, she was breathtaking. Her brown hair had finally been tamed by being cut into a sophisticated bob and she accentuated her brown eyes with shiny metallic eyeshadow. "It's PROM NIGHT! I'm the only sophomore to be asked by a senior and -"

"Jack was asked by a senior," Mark pointed out. "That's my boy. Getting older chicks to dig him."

"Dad! No one says 'dig' anymore." Emily shook her head, smiling. "I used to have cool parents."

"You still have cool parents," Callie told her, climbing out of the bed to retrieve her purse. She dug her keys from the depths. "You're just going to the salon, right?"

Emily nodded, catching the keys when Callie tossed them. "Amelia said she'd keep an eye on Christopher and Aiden."

As if on cue, their youngest son Aiden, six, sped into the room and rushed behind Callie's legs. "What did you do now, trouble?" she asked him when he peered out at Christopher, who was eight.

"He broke my damn video game. Again." Chris held up the broken joystick and swore when it fell apart in his hands. "Jack's going kill you harder than me, Aiden, because he was on level seven!"

Aiden, who was the spitting image of his father, covered his hazel eyes with one hand and started to cry. Mark sat up on the side of the bed and rubbed his back. "We'll go buy a new one."

Amelia waltzed into the room and with all the wisdom of a ten year old, she said, "Let him get his ass kicked, daddy. That'll show him."

"Why do our kids swear like this?" Callie asked Mark.

They both looked at Emily at once and she laughed behind her hands ... the way she had always done. "Jack's worse than me, you guys."

Amelia, who looked so much like Callie it was scary, put her hands on her hips and glared at Aiden. "Why are you crying?"

Aiden came out from behind Callie and opened his mouth to speak, but Jack appeared in the hallway next to Emily, easily towering over her. His black hair was long and shaggy and the hours that he had spent working out with Mark had given him broad shoulders and a six pack that had more than just the senior girls chasing after him. All the girls chased after him and called so much that Callie continually threatened to have the phone taken out. In his hands, he carried two drink holders and he gave one to Emily. "I got you and 'Melia strawberry. That chocolate one is mom's."

"You're a god," Emily replied, kissing his cheek as she gave her little sister her milkshake and held out the chocolate one for Callie.

"Thanks, kiddo," Callie told him, watching him hand out the drinks on the other tray.

Aiden started to cry again when Jack gave him his vanilla. "I broke the game stick."

With one arm, Jack picked his little brother up and goosed him in the ribs. "Well, that ain't worth crying over. Cry over the big stuff, Little A, don't sweat the small."

Chris held up the broken joystick again. "IT IS BIG STUFF."

"That one didn't work half the time anyway," Jack said, ruffling Chris's black hair. "Who wants to help me pimp my ride? I'm picking up Maria in four hours."

"Oh, she's the Latina girl," Mark said, eyeing Callie as he said it. "I approve."

Callie shook her head. "I don't. She's *eighteen* and because I am a Latina, I know what she's up to and -"

"Mom," Jack said, putting his arm around her. "She's just like you. She's sweet and funny and ... she likes dumb movies."

Mark grinned at his eldest son. Jack stood two inches taller than him and when he met his eyes, Mark said, "God help you if she's like your mother. You'll fall in love the first time she kisses you."

"Okay, ew," Emily said, but she laughed again. "Mom, can I still drive your car? It's cleaner than mine and I don't want to get dirty."

"Go ahead," Callie replied, walking across the room to hug her.

Amelia popped up beside them and gazed at her big sister with longing. "Can I go? Please?"

"Sure," Emily said. "You can keep me entertained while they do my nails."

"Can I get my nails done?" Amelia looked up at Callie. "I *am* ten, you know?"

Mark pulled money from his wallet and gave it to her. "Don't get something crazy, sunshine."

"Thanks, daddy," Amelia hugged Mark, then Callie and followed her sister from the room.

Christopher sighed when Jack tossed Aiden into the air. Out of all the Sloan children, Chris was the loner. Aiden had Jack, Amelia had Emily, but Chris stayed just on the outside. He was smart academically and enjoyed anything electronic, but he hated sports and refused to participate in school clubs. While Aiden and Jack could usually be found kicking the soccer ball or throwing a football, Chris could be found taking apart his computer and upgrading it.

The phone rang and Mark got it, then looked at Chris. "Eggroll wants to know if you're ready."

"Wait, where is Cristina taking you?" Callie asked her son.

"We're going to the science museum." Chris smiled from ear to ear as he reached for the phone. "Hey, 'stina. Yeah, I'm ready. Okay. Okay. Bye." He looked up at Callie and said, "We're also going to eat at the Japanese Steak House. I think I can catch the shrimp in my mouth this time."

Jack laughed. "I hope so. You almost lost an eye last time. Maybe you need bigger glasses, Professor."

Chris took a deep breath and walked out of the room. Aiden demanded to be put down and chased after him. Callie swatted Jack on the arm. "He's sensitive!"

"He's *gay*." Jack grinned at her. "I know you know it."

"Jack!"

"I'm sorry, Mom. He's either gay or a geek and I refuse to believe that we could have a geek in our family. So ... he's gay. And that's okay. We still love 'stina, right?" Jack gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Will you help me with my tie later? Damn bowties. I hate dances."

"Of course I will," she hugged him and watched him saunter from the room.

Mark swallowed the mouth full of milkshake he had been holding in his mouth since Jack's pronouncement. "Do you think Chris is gay?"

"He's *sensitive*," Callie repeated, then saw the expression on her husband's face. "And so are you apparently. So what if he is? He's -"

"I don't care if he is," Mark said. "I just - how do we let him know it's okay with us if he - if that's - I mean, we can't just say 'be gay, be happy'. We have to find out if he really is and -"

"He's *eight*, love," Callie told him. "We've still got a little while before we have to have that talk. You made Jack wait for it until he was *eleven*."

"And he knew more about it than I did." Rubbing the completely gray stubble on his face, Mark sighed. "I'll do it when he's ten. And this is where I remind you that *Emily* did most of the talking when you had to explain the birds and bees to Amelia."

"I was rendered speechless at Emily's knowledge." Callie stretched and yawned. "We are going to be kid free tonight, Sloan."

"We are?" he asked, smiling from ear to ear. "What, pray tell, will we do with ourselves?"

"Ask not what we can do for *ourselves*, but what we can do to each other."

The End