A/N: It seems I love to fill the gaps. Whilst this story is primarily Callie and Arizona it also contains Mark. I say this because it seems that some in the Callie and Arizona fandom have an aversion to Mark. Please consider this advance warning. Read at your peril.

I am forever grateful to my dear friend Donteatblue who has this magical ability to give me the confidence to write and also help me to make sense in my story telling. Thank you Lovely.

This story is un-beta'd because I wanted to get it out quickly. My apologies for any mistakes or inadvertent Englishisms.

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use.

Arizona threw the phone down and sat back on the sofa as piercing pain from the amputation site radiated through her hip. Her breath caught in her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut holding in the scream, though this did nothing to prevent the tear that escaped down her cheek, followed by another. The scream was for pain but that tear was all her pride. Her fists remained clenched on the sofa pillows as a list of expletives were mumbled incoherently followed by a very clear "Damn you Bailey!"

It had taken twelve frustrating aching minutes for Arizona to walk to the front door, most of those spent fighting with her new leg as she put it on. Despite the best effort of David Moore and a reasonably comfortable casting she was struggling to adapt. Whilst only in the early stage of prosthetic use Arizona had been given a plastic limb that strapped uncomfortably around the pelvis over a thick fitted sock on her stump, sprayed with rubbing alcohol. Stump, such an ugly word; Moore kept referring to her 'residual limb' but in reality it was a stump. If it quacks like a duck, walks like a duck, it is, in fact, a duck. During every minute of putting it on Arizona paused to prevent herself from breaking down. Having finally fastened it she had set off on the long walk without a cane to the door. Six steps and one smashed vase later the stupidity of ignoring her cane was apparent as she took one more step down the humiliation road. She was not up for games, Bailey wasn't stupid, she was a doctor for God's sake; she must know that walking took 80% more energy these days. Even talking took 80% more energy.

"It's a huge waste of YOUR time?" Arizona's self absorbed grumble at Bailey came to an abrupt end as her head spun round to the left, the direction of the voice.

"What exactly are you spending your precious time doing these days anyway Robbins?" Arizona's mouth dropped open in shock as she shut her eyes for a second only to open them to the same scene.

The voice continued "Watching Days of Our Lives and reading trash?" Arizona was speechless. Right there, on the sofa, taking up too much room slouching, with bemused raised eyebrows sat Mark Sloan; alive, corporeal, and apparently still possessing an intense ability to annoy.

"What..." Arizona's mouth opened and closed like a gold fish. "What the hell is going on here?" Pinching herself hard, she yelped realizing that this wasn't a dream and he was still here.

"Now that's not a very wise thing to do, is it? Aren't you in enough pain?" Mark continued to point his icy blues at her, his smile widening as he watched her reaction. After all these years he'd finally silenced the blonde.

Realizing that she might be bordering on delusional Arizona quickly moved her leg into position to stand. She needed air, lots of it, or drugs. Hell she needed a cigarette. Pushing all of her weight onto her legs she buckled under the throbbing from her stump, which had jarred during her earlier fall and sunk back down to the sofa, the effort of the move causing her to close her eyes and take a deep breath, her mind baffled "When I open them he will not be there".

He was. Grinning like the cat that scooped up the cream with his paw and wiped it all over his face just to spite the owner. Arizona grabbed the pillows and threw them at him in bewildered annoyance as she contemplated this rather bizarre situation.

"I guess you're stuck with me till the pain subsides, huh?" pointing to her thigh.

Arizona was not a religious person. She tolerated her wife's faith for a church that condemned their relationship but beyond that her own faith was in herself, and even that was questionable at the moment, and her loyalty to family and country. Completely out of her depth in this experience Arizona sat back into the cushions and folded her arms, deliberately looking straight ahead to avoid making eye contact with Mark. She smirked to herself, and shook her head, realizing how ridiculous that sounded in her head – making eye contact with dead Mark. She felt uncomfortable with things she didn't understand, and this, whatever this experience was, religious or not, was way beyond her understanding.

"Okay, here we are, together again..." Apparently he wasn't going to stop. Well, she wasn't going to encourage him.

"Tell me..." he ploughed on "why are you cursing the delightful Dr. Bailey? I hear she has a tiny human case for you to consult on?"

The blonde peds surgeon ran a hand through her hair and leaned her elbow on the armrest, propping up her head. Her gaze fixed on the wall ahead.

He leaned forward, close enough that she could smell his cologne, and whispered as if to tell her some great secret "Arizona...?"

"Go away Mark." If looks could kill he'd be six feet under, except wasn't he already six feet under?

"Why? So you can sit here sulking all day, pretending you're happy, thinking of yourself, all woe is me?" He raised his eyes up and waved his hands "Oh wait...that's right... Robbins is a bailer. You bail. Things get tough and you're outta there!" his thumb emphasized his point.

"It's none of your business!" Arizona was fuming, how dare he? Again! "And I haven't bailed!" All she wanted was to be left alone. If it wasn't Callie it was her prosthetist, or Bailey. And now apparently Mark.

"Oh really? What do you call this? You bailed Robbins. Again."

She'd had enough of this "I'm not ready."

"Ready for what?" he sat back and folded his arms, prepared for battle.

"To go back"

"Go back to what?" Mark snapped back deliberately baiting her.

"Go back to work" her voice rose in irritation "I'm just not ready". Why don't people understand?

"Is that all?" He was persistent. Arizona gave him the death stare again. Not that it worked the first time, but he seemed to take the hint "Okay, fine. One thing at a time." She needed to be brought around slowly, "What's stopping you going back to work then?"

"I just said. I'm. Not. Ready," her staccato words unveiled simmering anger. But still Mark ploughed on. He had nothing to fear "oh right."

Arizona could hear the sarcasm in his voice and turned to face him "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mark shrugged staring her down, "What?...You can't be a doctor? You had a leg cut off Robbins, not your brain. Go back to work." irritated, his voice raised in scorn.

Arizona wanted to jump up and run out of the room so badly. Robbins is a bailer. Her pride defeating her again, she sat forward and levered herself up. A small wobble as she stood caused her to pause and reflect on her next step. If she couldn't run away she would at least create some space between then. Holding onto every available prop she made painful progress to the kitchen and stood facing the work surface. Her mind continued to churn, desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. Refusing to look up to see if Mark was still there she reached out to grab a plate and started to make herself something to eat.

"Peanut butter and Jelly?"

Arizona jumped off balance at Mark's sudden words, grabbing the counter she steadied herself "MARK! Get out of my face"

"Whaaat? I thought I taught you better than that. We're masters of the kitchen you and I...Roast Chicken...Eggs Benedict..." leaning over the counter up close "Coq au vin." Arizona's hand flew up to slap him as he ducked out of the way, "so, what, you've given up on doctoring, living, wifing AND cooking? I'm ashamed Arizona"

She looked up confused, finally making eye contact "wifing?"

Mark nodded in the direction of the bedroom and raised his eyebrows confirming "wifing."

Arizona had had enough, frustration seeping out of every pore "don't you dare comment on our sex life Mark" grabbing the plate she walked around the counter, pausing for a rest then toward the sofa again; anger and adrenalin numbed her pain, helping her movement.

"Well Robbins, I don't need to comment. One look at the hospital bed in the bedroom is all that's needed."

"Please stop." She was tired. Tired of fighting someone who wasn't even here to fight with. Grabbing the sandwich she ate in silence, not really tasting it, secretly wishing it was eggs Benedict. She could feel the sofa dip as Mark sat down again next to her. Resting the plate on the armrest she leaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees, her left arm feeling the hard plastic of the prosthetic joint. Placing her head in her hands Arizona felt the continued lack of control over-whelming her.

"So...what...you can't be a doctor if you only have one leg?" He was never going to stop.

A muffled "No, that's not..." was heard from her buried head.

He interrupted her "Suddenly you've forgotten how to be a doctor?"

"No, of course not!" the stifled protests grew louder.

"Is this one of those obligations you resent?" Oh how her words from the past were coming back to bite.

"No!" How dare he "God, no! Please stop" tears were escaping, mixed with her protests.

"So what is it then, Bailer? Ha ha Bailey wants the Bailer – see what I did there?" He was enjoying this.

"Shut up Mark! I just can't...I can't even control the damn thing yet. I can't walk, how am I supposed to be a surgeon or even a just a doctor"

"Can't or won't?"

"I can't, Mark. I just can't. Would you please just drop it?" Sensing that he would be here til she acquiesced "Why won't she just send me the damn chart? I can do it from here."

"Oh...I see how it is."

Silence. Arizona sat forward with her hands mopping up salty water from her face.

"You know this leg gives you power. With it you can have enormous empathy, even humility. It makes you a better doctor Robbins." Still nothing but quiet sobs in reply "But hey...what do I know? I'm just the dead guy."

"That's not fair." Once again pride would not give her a break.

"No! You know what's not fair? YOU; sitting on your ass moaning, when people need you. Patients need you. Bailey needs you. Our daughter needs you. Callie needs you!" He was on a roll "And for someone who says she can't control her leg you sure do know how to use it to run away."

That stung. Her body flinched as she realized the truth, not that she would admit it to him. No. Never. Still holding her head in her hands "Still the same old wise ass, even dead?"

He sat back on the sofa and stretched his arms linking fingers behind his head "I think you mean even wiser ass. Let's just say this new job I have teaches you a lot. You know Sofia has her last molar coming through don't you."

She could hear the pride in his voice. The sound of a father loving the daughter he would never live to see grow up, graduate, marry. Arizona's heart turned over, her grief churning out more tears through her fingers. "Yes Mark, we hear her every night" her words barely audible for sobs.

"Good. So... What's it to be Robbins? I, don't have all day." Arizona laughed at the absurdity of that statement. The throbbing in her leg had lessened, as had her resistance to healing tiny humans. She rested her head for a few more minutes in silent contemplation of her next move. That was the thing now. Every move had to be planned in advance. Every step. Resigning herself to helping Bailey she lifted her face and wiped the tears off, turning her head to face him "I'll call he..."

She was met with an empty seat. Looking around the apartment all was quiet. She was alone. He was gone.

"Damn you Mark"

Callie needed to get out, escape, as the sense of failure started to crush her. Fixing Derek's hand was the one thing she could do in all this mess, if she could fix it then maybe she would feel just that little bit less worthless. But it turned out she couldn't. She'd failed; she had proved a disappointment to him and to herself. Suddenly the confines of the lounge felt suffocating. Knowing she had barely a minute for the meeting she jumped up and chased after Derek, it was too soon to go back to the lawyers.

"Derek!" he swung around "I need a few more minutes" Callie bit her bottom lip concealing her tears. Her hands were clenching and unclenching as Derek could see her breathing shallow and fast. His shoulders dropped, dipping his head he gave her a gentle smile. Now was not the time for lawyers to push "Okay, I'll stall them" as he turned and strode down the corridor "Go get some air Torres."

Mark stood leaning against the wall gazing at Callie. He'd watched the whole exchange between his two best friends, the hurt and fear seeping out of them was visceral.

"He's right Torres" Mark strode over and stood right in front of her "you can do it."

Callie rubbed her brow with her fingers, her mind searching for answers to help her understand what was going on. With a determined about-face she walked off in the direction of the elevator. She needed to talk to someone and lately there was only one person who never tired of listening. Mark looked after her and sighed as he watched her run away.

"Hey baby girl" Callie's face transformed into joy as she made eye contact with her daughter playing with bricks in the corner.

"Hi Dr. Torres" Stacy, the young day care nurse, currently trying to build a tower spotted the Orthopedic surgeon and stood up to make space for her. Since the crash Dr. Torres was well known in the center for her lunchtime visits.

"Hey Stacy, how are things today?" Callie sat cross legged on the floor, pulled Sofia onto her lap and pressed her lips to the little girls head, pausing long enough to swallow her tears before looking up.

"She's all good. But she hasn't napped yet sooo... maybe it's story time?" Stacy winked at Callie knowing this is exactly what the doctor loved to do. Turning back to Sofia, Callie grabbed the nearest picture storybook.

Across the room Mark stood and drank in the sight of his little girl in her mother's arms, his own arms crossed on his chest, one hand rubbing his clipped beard. Making his way towards them through the crowd of little people he sat down on a tiny chair. If Callie could see him she'd have laughed at his ridiculous seating position, his knees almost up to his chin as his ass perched on the bright red miniature seat, more suitable for a three footer than a six footer. As it was she was absorbed in a daydream as Sofia sucked and dribbled on a brick, tapping into her mamma's melancholy mood and gently chatted to herself. The book lay closed in her mamma's hand.

"Watcha been doing today little one?" Callie tried to re-focus on the child even as her mind kept drifting back to the lawsuit and law suits upstairs in the conference room. Seeing Sofia during her lunchtime had turned into the highlight of her day. Thirty minutes of guilt free one-on-one snuggles. Guilt free? Was it really? Within minutes of arriving she became loaded with guilt as she thought of her wife at home, struggling.

"What am I to do Sofia, hey?" She threw the question out to her daughter as if suddenly wise grown-up words would answer back. Sofia looked up at the sound of her mamma's voice and gave a smile-giggle.

"Derek's right you know Cal" Mark could see the pain in Callie's face as she spoke to the toddler. "You know you can fix this."

Callie continued to smile at her daughter's attempts to put two bricks together "What was I thinking? I had no right to touch his hand. That procedure was too much of a risk" Sofia was used to her mamma chatting away to her. The brunette sighed as her daughter sank into her arms, one hand landing on her mamma's. Callie looked down and started playing with her daughter's fingers.

"She has your hands, Torres. Strong, long fingers."

"Hey baby, look see my hand looks just like yours... see" Callie carried on chatting to her daughter, the child enjoying the attention.

"You have such beautiful hands Callie, can you see it?"

Callie ran her finger and thumb along Sofia hands, they still had their baby chubbiness but she could imagine how they would grow "they're so pretty, and you have such a cute little pinky" her voice took an upward tone letting her daughter know she was really talking to her.

"Those hands are meant to build things, fix broken bones, repair nerves. They're meant to fix lives, Cal, you know that"

As she sat stroking her daughter's fingers she could feel the tears begin to build in her throat. Her own fingers had failed to fix her wife's leg, how could they possibly fix Derek's hand.

Mark articulated her pain "The leg was gone. The moment that plane went down the leg was gone."

"You know your mommy loves you, right baby? She loves you so much." Every day Callie spoke this mantra except today she added to it "it's nobody's fault. I know we're talking to lawyers to find someone to blame but your mommy got hurt and it's not her fault," tears rolled down her face, as she finally owned up to the truth that the leg had to go, "It's no one's fault."

Stacy, keeping an eye on the doctor from a far, made eye contact, checking that Callie was okay. A brief nod from the brunette reassured her. Mark attempted to stretch his legs, failed when he nearly fell off the teeny chair and folded them back up again "Derek needs his hand back as much as you need to give it back to him"

Sofia reached her hand up to her mamma's face, laying her palm on the wet cheek "Dadda"; Callie could feel the warmth of the baby hand. She smiled "you miss your daddy don't you baby. So do I."

"It's not a quick fix, but it can be done Torres," Mark was going to carry on and get it through her thick skull, even if it killed him. Well, if he wasn't already dead.

Callie ran her fingers up Sofia's arm, wondering at how fast she was growing, it only seemed like last week when she was just one pound one ounce of strong. Just as she thought this, her mind did a flip back to Derek's injury. Nerve regeneration wasn't fast it was slow. It could just be very slow. Callie lifted her head up and looked straight ahead, the corners of her mouth just starting to turn up. "We haven't given it enough time" this time she was talking to herself.

Mark sat in her line of sight and smiled "Go Torres! You know it." Callie started to list in quiet tones the procedures they had yet to try with Derek's hand.

"Atta girl! And you have the hands to do it. You have beautiful hands that fix things Callie."

Looking down again at her hands playing with Sofia's she realized time was moving on and she would soon have to return to the conference room. Picking up the book, which had fallen from her lap she opened it to the first page, finally seeing the title. Owl Babies, the story of three baby owls that, on waking up in the middle of the night, discover mamma owl has left the nest to go hunting for food. They are scared she may never come back. Callie slammed the book shut, fear causing her stomach to turn over. The Torres/Robbins household knew this story by heart but since the crash couldn't bring themselves to read it again.

Mark watched her drop the book on the floor and grab The Hungry Caterpillar, "fear makes things much clearer Callie. Don't be afraid of fear itself. It keeps us moving forward. It keeps us innovating and creating." Mark kept going "And of all the people to appreciate that Derek will. He pushes Callie, let him push you."

"We don't want to be scared do we baby, so we'll go see what that hungry caterpillar's been up to." As she opened the book Sofia pushed her finger through the well-worn holes in the pages. Callie started to read to her daughter and within two minutes the child had drifted off to sleep to her mother's gentle tone. Callie held onto her for a few minutes longer in silent meditation, enjoying the warmth and comfort that a sleeping child brings to a mother. Her eyes moved from her baby to the bricks surrounding her, bizarre shaped constructions only a child's imagination could create.

"I wonder..." the brunette murmured to herself as she repeated the list of possible surgical solutions in her head, "Would Derek be willing...hmmm?" a plan of sorts had started to form in her mind.

Artfully standing without waking Sofia she carried her over to the sleepy zone and laid her in an empty cot. Kissing the child's warm forehead she waved at Stacy and made a swift quiet exit, brushing past Mark as she did so. She came to an abrupt halt just outside the door as a familiar smell wafted past her nose. Looking around to see where it came from she found only an empty corridor with two nurses at the other end. She closed her eyes for a moment as memories washed over her, a sad smile graced her face remembering the last time she'd smelled that particular cologne. It had been morning; Mark had rushed into the apartment with Sofia, so excited on hearing her say 'uppy dadda'. It never failed to amaze him that she was his daughter and she loved him. Taking a deep breath Callie looked back again for reassurance then marched towards the medical library. She had some research to do before going back to the lawyers.

It had been too long since Arizona was at the hospital professionally rather than personally. That's how it felt anyway, and she welcomed the feeling of control that had settled on her shoulders. Earlier that afternoon she had paced the apartment in frustration as Marks words haunted her, Robbins is a bailer. She had even ventured outside to calm herself down after leaving abrupt messages for Bailey. In the end she'd conceded and made her way to the hospital. As she sat talking Bailey through the diagnosis and treatment plan for Lemierre's disease she felt a small yet significant sense of peace. Finally there was something normal about her day. After months of struggle this short walk to the hospital that took so long to achieve had restored some of her faith in herself.

"So Bailey, are we done here" Arizona knew that Callie was staying behind to speak to the lawyers so she was keen to get up to the day care center. She couldn't collect Sofia but she could sit and read to her whilst waiting. She pulled her phone out and started playing with it.

Bailey suddenly realized that shooing Callie away before may not have been such a great idea, "uhh, yeah, I think so" she really was very clear about the treatment plan but certainly not clear when it came to how to manage a 'post crash' Callie and Arizona moment.

"You want me to call Torres for y..."

"No, that's ok. I just sent her a text." Just as she said this she heard a tell tale beep from down the corridor.

Leaning back from the counter Bailey spotted the source, "well look who's here." Her initial fear that she would have to mediate an awkward reunion evaporated on seeing Sofia in Callie's arms walking towards them. Immediately breaking into a grin her voice changed pitch "Hello gorgeous, and how are you?"

Sofia responded with a smile of her own, a big clap and something that sounded like 'yaya'.

"She hasn't quite mastered hiya yet but that's close" Callie was quick to reassure Bailey of her daughter's intention. Seeing Arizona out of the corner of her eye behind the desk she feigned surprise by planting a huge grin on her face and diverting attention immediately to their daughter, "hey Sofia! Look it's mommy! She's come to see us"

"Hey baby girl!" Arizona stood up slowly so that her left thigh could reacclimatize to standing and turned to walk around the counter, her eyes keeping steady on Sofia. She couldn't admit it of course but suddenly seeing Callie had made her feel embarrassed; in her determination to get to the hospital she hadn't taken the time to tell her wife she was here until she was ready to go home.

As she reached her daughter she lifted her hand to stroke Sofia's cheek and planted a kiss, smiling when her daughter tried to reach out for Arizona to take her.

"NO!" immediately regretting her tone Callie softened "when we get home sweetie, then mommy can give you all the cuddles and snuggles you want" shifting her gaze cautiously over to her wife she held her breath preparing herself for Arizona's reaction to that caution. As they made eye contact, Callie slowly exhaled when all she saw was – what did she see – peace? It wasn't the anger she was expecting. Arizona moved her hand to Callie's arm and with the lightest of touch stroked it with her thumb, before dropping it to the counter for support.



The women held each other's gaze for a few seconds before Callie became aware that Bailey was staring at them. "Um...you ready to go?"

"Yes, sure" Arizona grabbed her cane "all good Bailey?"

This scene mesmerized Bailey; these two women she knew so well, who had pledged themselves to each other in front of her were now so shy and timid. Shaking herself back to the task in hand she pretended that this was a normal everyday interlude with this little family "of course, go home, I've got things to finish, go. I'll see you ...uh...back at work Arizona"

"Sure..yeah...okay Dr. Bailey"

Callie hitched Sofia up in her arms and turned to leave "I need to pick up groceries on the way home, we're short on things for dinner"

"No." Arizona had spotted this earlier and in her practice run with the cane she'd aimed for the grocery store on the corner "I stopped by earlier."

Walking slowly to accommodate her wife's temperate pace Callie turned her head, once again concealing her reaction behind a genuine tender smile "great." Meeting Arizona's eyes once more she could see behind them the huge effort her wife was putting in to today's challenges. She could feel a shift. Too scared to articulate it, her own achievement of the day already over-whelming her Callie turned back to Sofia. Her eyes sparkled as she swallowed her tears "let's go baby, let's see what mommy's got for dinner."

Bailey watched the two women walk slowly down the corridor, separated by a child and a limp, victims of a tragedy she would never wish on her worst enemy. She could see their pain in the space between them but she had also seen a spark of recovery.

Bailey knew the love they had for each other was deep, she could only pray that it was profound enough to heal. She reached out and opened the chart again, prepared to order the tests on this very sick tiny human.

"Those two need their heads bashed together" a gruff familiar voice she hadn't heard in a while interrupted her thoughts "they need to talk!"

Her mind still on the couple, she concurred, "they sure do," Bailey looked up from the chart at the two disappearing figures again, "but they'll get there. It may be slow but they will."

"I am not in any doubt Dr. Bailey."

Going back to her chart she could feel him moving closer, leaning in, his familiar cologne, not altogether unpleasant, drifting over her. Well, it wasn't unpleasant until it invaded her personal space, and then she became irritated. Without looking up "is there something you need Dr. Sloan?"

"Well actually Dr Bailey, now that you mention it, I was hoping you'd tell me how the on-call rooms were these days." Leaning in even closer, smiling his trademark Cheshire cat grin, he whispered in her ear "Booty Call Bailey."

Blood surged to her face as the general surgeon lifted her eyes, without moving her head, in a desperate search to see if anyone heard. Too embarrassed to make eye contact, she proceeded to deny it quickly "I do not know what you mean."

She sensed that he was having too much fun with this, keeping her tone low but firm "There are too many gossips around this place and I will not discuss my personal business. With. You. Of all people Doctor Sloan"

"Dr. Bailey?"

Miranda, as if caught in the act itself rather than the denying of it, swung around to see April Kepner, a puzzled look on her face, "what?"

"Are you okay Dr. Bailey?"

Embarrassed to be trapped in a conversation about her sex life, Bailey immediately went on the defensive, giving Kepner her usually effective death stare "yes I am! Don't you have something to do? I can give you something to do if you don't. I've got lots of things you can do."

April stuttered in fear, wondering what to say to exit this conversation as quickly as she'd entered it, when her mouth took over her brain "it's just... you were...um..."

"Speak girl!"

"...Talking to Dr. Sloan"

Realization exploded on Bailey as the conversation in those last few moments sunk in. In a vain effort to hide any insinuation that she was talking to a dead person she continued as if April hadn't spoken "Dr. Kepner, do I need to find you something to do?"

Without hesitating for a second April replied, fearing retribution "No, Dr. Bailey, I have...uh... a patient to check on..." Stuttering, with her eyes wide, hands clenching and unclenching April backed away spun and marched off. Already on Jesus' naughty step she had no intention of inviting more trouble.

Bailey went back to her chart, even as she sensed she was not alone. After twenty seconds of trying to concentrate she turned her head slowly to look over her shoulder. The corridor was empty though she was not entirely convinced that this was indeed the case.

"Mark Sloan" her voice was quiet fast and firm, so as not to draw any more attention, "IamnotIzzieStevenswiththebra intumour" her shoulders followed her gaze as it shifted around to try to find him, "and you are not dead Denny Duquette. And we are NOT having this conversation."

Eventually giving up and going back to the chart Miranda smiled, so this is how it was. Praying that Mark was still around and could hear her she reassured them both "they will get there."

A/N 2: This story is not a Dead Denny brain tumor or Crashed Callie out-of-body experience. It's about love and grief and finding the strength inside of you. If you have ever lost someone you loved fiercely, as I have, you will recognize that that person lives on in you forever. THEIR life made an indelible imprint on YOUR life. And when you need them the most they turn into the voice in your head. They are with you when you struggle and they are with you when you feel joy. Sometimes you recognize it's happening and sometimes you don't. And everyone, every single one of us, experiences it differently.

For now this story is complete. But it could be that one-day Callie or Arizona or their friends need Mark again. And then this may continue.