The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, Gcitron_presseMay 25 2010, 07:59:27 UTC
I've been struggling with words at little recently, especially where the finale's concerned, but this came to me. It's a little rough, but I hope it's okay.
Mark's POV, set post finale
*
You wait two weeks before you say it.
The first week gets lost in shell shock and camaraderie and trying to dig some kind of routine out of the wreckage. You’re worried about Derek and glad you didn’t know he was hurt at the time, because either you wouldn’t have been able to function, or you’d be beating yourself up now because Lexie would still have mattered just a little more.
The second week, you’re reticent. It’s a new thing. You’re trying to deal with your personal life like you deal with your patients - calm, quiet, strong - and everyone seems to like you better for it, although they notice you a little less. Once you had no qualms about delivering the bottom line. Now, with her, it seems too delicate: you’ll break her or you’ll break yourself.
But the third week, when Karev’s on his feet and brushing her off with an irritated whatever, you follow her when she goes to buy coffee (one for her, one for him) and finally say the words that have been on your mind since you stood by while she poured her heart out.
“He doesn’t love you. You know that, right?”
She swallows, then does something with her head that could be a nod or could be denial. Maybe both. “He loved Izzie,” she says. “Obviously, he loved her. She was his wife and . . . we weren’t really there yet. The love part.” She’s half-defiant while she’s speaking, but when the words run out she seems to deflate, as if she hasn’t quite convinced herself.
She certainly hasn’t convinced you.
“Well, you seemed to be there,” you say. It’s not bitter, even though it could be. It's just a statement of fact as you see it. “But . . .” You glance down. Now you've taken the risk, you need to press the point, but you still don't want to be the guy who hurts her. So your voice softens, grating a little with reluctance, when you look up again and finish, “He doesn’t feel the same way.”
She lifts her eyes to look into yours then pauses, locked there, the duration and intensity something you would have avoided once but really, now, after everything that’s happened, there’s nothing out there bad enough that it’s worth avoiding.
“I wasn’t,” she finally says. “I’m not. I’m . . . with him.” She nods again, once, as though for backup. “I’m with Alex. But it’s not love. Not exactly. It’s . . .” She falters, eyes sad and pleading, then says very softly, somewhere in the back of her throat, words catching on the emotion, “I thought he was dying. I thought he was dying and, right then, I loved him enough to say it. You can’t . . .” She breathes in. “It’s awful when someone dies and you don’t tell them. It’s awful when you can’t say goodbye.”
It takes you a moment, but then you get it. “O’Malley,” you say quietly, chastened that this is the first time you realize she’s living in the aftermath of an aftermath and how much that must kill her.
"Yes," she confirms. Then adds an almost inaudible, “And my mom.”
There’s nothing to say after that. Everything you can think of seems out of place, outclassed by her grief and her shot at redemption; you’d comfort her, but you don’t think she wants that from you. So you both stand there, uncomfortable, until she raises the coffee cups as a gesture of escape.
Then you panic, because this is not a conversation you can have twice and, suddenly not caring if she wants it or needs it, use her words as a template to blurt your truth. “We were there. The love part. We were there, Lex.” You feel so hopeless when you can't help adding, “I still am.”
Her eyes find yours again. “I know,” she says, her voice firm, gentle, unambiguous in understanding, then slowly turns and walks away.
It’s not much. Not anything at all, really. Just an acknowledgment. But she’s not angry, she’s not hurt, and it’s nothing like you expected. Nothing’s broken; if anything, it’s mended a little. And, for now, that's enough.
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, GwaltzmatildahMay 25 2010, 08:44:32 UTC
Oh.
Oh wow. This is pretty much exactly what I imagine will happen (well, apart from the Alex being an ass part which is what I read into the line about him brushing her off with an irritated whatever).
I really do love your insight into Mark. You made me re-like him a little more with this. He's understated and conscious of the power he has over other people and the way they feel and yeah.
Awesome.
(apologies for the inarticulate nature of this reply. I'm still a little shocked at my Mark love turnaround... I'm pretty sure it's the image of him carrying Alex that's cemented it!)
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, Gcitron_presseMay 26 2010, 03:56:00 UTC
Oh wow right back! I'm really quite honored that I made you re-like Mark a little more and I love how you feel he came across in this.
Unfortunately, Alex had to do something to catalyze Mark's resolve to actually say something in this fic, lol! But I'm sorry he came over as an ass: I was going for something more like that pissed off stage between sickness and recovery, and irritation at Lexie constantly hovering.
Anyway - your reply wasn't inarticulate at all. Quite the opposite and I love and appreciate it. As the first reply to something that I was invested in but not sure of it, it was an awesome one to receive &hearts
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, Gcitron_presseMay 26 2010, 03:57:47 UTC
It's so great to get good feedback on Lexie. I'm always more confident writing Mark, so thank you for liking her here! Thank you, also, for your kind words about my writing. You're awesome to say that!
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, Gviolet1979May 25 2010, 13:55:11 UTC
So great. I can totally see this scene happen. And this: You’re trying to deal with your personal life like you deal with your patients - calm, quiet, strong - and everyone seems to like you better for it, although they notice you a little less. This sums up his general situation in the last few episodes so perfectly.
I love that he keeps fighting for her, and dares to address the Izzie issue, even though he is so sure that she is going to hate him for it. It proves how much he really cares about her for her own sake.
And it's so like Lexie to do the unexpected.
And so like Mark/Lexie to have an intimate, honest conversation like that, in a non-intimate setting like that, and yet stop just short of saying the most important things. So beautifully done.
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, Gcitron_presseMay 26 2010, 04:09:29 UTC
I'm really pleased you quoted the line you did. He seems to be growing into his "better self" being present in his personal life (with the poise of S3 Mark, but with the growing openness of the more recent seasons). It's great, and yet the sadness (that was always there) seems a little more profound, somehow. Maybe because he's feeling it more and not burying it.
It proves how much he really cares about her for her own sake. So much so. He's always had this in his personality, but it's never been as clear and pure as in the finale with Lexie. Here (and I think this might be true on the show after the crisis has passed) he's still in that place, but just fighting a little bit for his own corner at the same time!
And so like Mark/Lexie to have an intimate, honest conversation like that, in a non-intimate setting like that, and yet stop just short of saying the most important things. So beautifully done. I keep quoting you, but you put everything so beautifully. I loved this part of your comment. They are like that on the show, and it's awesome that you feel I captured that here. They had to stop short at this point, I think; it was actually a huge step from where they were at the end of S6.
Ha! You wanted the whole essay, I take it, lol! I just had to write a lot because I really loved this comment and how well you seemed to relate to what I'd written. I'm honored. Thank you &hearts
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, GabvjMay 25 2010, 13:59:27 UTC
This is so fabulous and explains everything I had thought Lexie was feeling during the finale, so I love you even more because you managed to put it so beautifully into words. *sighs* I will never not love them, and they will never not love each other, and thank you for posting this, bb.
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, Gcitron_presseMay 26 2010, 04:17:22 UTC
Oh, I really love that you were having similar thoughts about Lexie's feelings. I actually wondered if I was making too much of something the writers might have moved past, but now I'm reassured :) And thank you for feeling that I put it beautifully. That's just awesome feedback.
I had let Mark/Lexie go a little bit recently; but the finale renewed all my love for them. He loves her so incredibly powerfully, and she (whatever she feels right now) trusts him so implicitly it's awe inspiring!
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, Gcitron_presseMay 26 2010, 04:31:27 UTC
I've said this before (and I hope I'll get the chance to say it again ;) ) but I always love it when my Lexie rings true to you. So you can guess the smile you put on my face with this :D
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, GslybrunetteMay 25 2010, 17:40:28 UTC
This is wonderfully handled. It's no secret that I've been very...iffy with these two as of late, but this is the kind of fic I can get behind.
“I thought he was dying. I thought he was dying and, right then, I loved him enough to say it. You can’t . . .” She breathes in. “It’s awful when someone dies and you don’t tell them. It’s awful when you can’t say goodbye.”
It takes you a moment, but then you get it. “O’Malley,” you say quietly, chastened that this is the first time you realize she’s living in the aftermath of an aftermath and how much that must kill her.
"Yes," she confirms. Then adds an almost inaudible, “And my mom.”
That part is an especially wonderful explanation for her actions in the finale, and you ended this on a bittersweet sort of note that is just perfect.
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, Gcitron_presseMay 26 2010, 04:38:19 UTC
I'm really pleased you thought I handled this well. I was trying to keep a balance between getting a feel of Mark/Lexie and keeping it plausible for where they are right now, so that feedback is great, especially since you're iffy with them.
I couldn't help feeling that all the unresolved death she's gone through recently had to play a part in the intensity of her feeling for Alex and it's awesome to know you found that a good explanation.
The ending had to be a little bittersweet, I think; even if they're going to get back together, there's a lot to deal with.
Anyway - thank you so much for the great comment. I'm so pleased you liked this &hearts
Re: The Love Part, Mark/Lexie, GacecoastMay 26 2010, 00:45:11 UTC
More than anything, I wanted Lexie to acknowledge Mark’s feelings. Lexie saying “I know” but then walking away, I think, is fitting. Now I wonder if Lexie returns those affections in that moment. I really like this and your take on what could happen. Great job!
Mark's POV, set post finale
*
You wait two weeks before you say it.
The first week gets lost in shell shock and camaraderie and trying to dig some kind of routine out of the wreckage. You’re worried about Derek and glad you didn’t know he was hurt at the time, because either you wouldn’t have been able to function, or you’d be beating yourself up now because Lexie would still have mattered just a little more.
The second week, you’re reticent. It’s a new thing. You’re trying to deal with your personal life like you deal with your patients - calm, quiet, strong - and everyone seems to like you better for it, although they notice you a little less. Once you had no qualms about delivering the bottom line. Now, with her, it seems too delicate: you’ll break her or you’ll break yourself.
But the third week, when Karev’s on his feet and brushing her off with an irritated whatever, you follow her when she goes to buy coffee (one for her, one for him) and finally say the words that have been on your mind since you stood by while she poured her heart out.
“He doesn’t love you. You know that, right?”
She swallows, then does something with her head that could be a nod or could be denial. Maybe both. “He loved Izzie,” she says. “Obviously, he loved her. She was his wife and . . . we weren’t really there yet. The love part.” She’s half-defiant while she’s speaking, but when the words run out she seems to deflate, as if she hasn’t quite convinced herself.
She certainly hasn’t convinced you.
“Well, you seemed to be there,” you say. It’s not bitter, even though it could be. It's just a statement of fact as you see it. “But . . .” You glance down. Now you've taken the risk, you need to press the point, but you still don't want to be the guy who hurts her. So your voice softens, grating a little with reluctance, when you look up again and finish, “He doesn’t feel the same way.”
She lifts her eyes to look into yours then pauses, locked there, the duration and intensity something you would have avoided once but really, now, after everything that’s happened, there’s nothing out there bad enough that it’s worth avoiding.
“I wasn’t,” she finally says. “I’m not. I’m . . . with him.” She nods again, once, as though for backup. “I’m with Alex. But it’s not love. Not exactly. It’s . . .” She falters, eyes sad and pleading, then says very softly, somewhere in the back of her throat, words catching on the emotion, “I thought he was dying. I thought he was dying and, right then, I loved him enough to say it. You can’t . . .” She breathes in. “It’s awful when someone dies and you don’t tell them. It’s awful when you can’t say goodbye.”
It takes you a moment, but then you get it. “O’Malley,” you say quietly, chastened that this is the first time you realize she’s living in the aftermath of an aftermath and how much that must kill her.
"Yes," she confirms. Then adds an almost inaudible, “And my mom.”
There’s nothing to say after that. Everything you can think of seems out of place, outclassed by her grief and her shot at redemption; you’d comfort her, but you don’t think she wants that from you. So you both stand there, uncomfortable, until she raises the coffee cups as a gesture of escape.
Then you panic, because this is not a conversation you can have twice and, suddenly not caring if she wants it or needs it, use her words as a template to blurt your truth. “We were there. The love part. We were there, Lex.” You feel so hopeless when you can't help adding, “I still am.”
Her eyes find yours again. “I know,” she says, her voice firm, gentle, unambiguous in understanding, then slowly turns and walks away.
It’s not much. Not anything at all, really. Just an acknowledgment. But she’s not angry, she’s not hurt, and it’s nothing like you expected. Nothing’s broken; if anything, it’s mended a little. And, for now, that's enough.
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Oh wow. This is pretty much exactly what I imagine will happen (well, apart from the Alex being an ass part which is what I read into the line about him brushing her off with an irritated whatever).
I really do love your insight into Mark. You made me re-like him a little more with this. He's understated and conscious of the power he has over other people and the way they feel and yeah.
Awesome.
(apologies for the inarticulate nature of this reply. I'm still a little shocked at my Mark love turnaround... I'm pretty sure it's the image of him carrying Alex that's cemented it!)
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Unfortunately, Alex had to do something to catalyze Mark's resolve to actually say something in this fic, lol! But I'm sorry he came over as an ass: I was going for something more like that pissed off stage between sickness and recovery, and irritation at Lexie constantly hovering.
Anyway - your reply wasn't inarticulate at all. Quite the opposite and I love and appreciate it. As the first reply to something that I was invested in but not sure of it, it was an awesome one to receive &hearts
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That is so Lexie - Thank you
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I'd like to see something like this in S7 too.
&hearts
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I love that he keeps fighting for her, and dares to address the Izzie issue, even though he is so sure that she is going to hate him for it. It proves how much he really cares about her for her own sake.
And it's so like Lexie to do the unexpected.
And so like Mark/Lexie to have an intimate, honest conversation like that, in a non-intimate setting like that, and yet stop just short of saying the most important things. So beautifully done.
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It proves how much he really cares about her for her own sake.
So much so. He's always had this in his personality, but it's never been as clear and pure as in the finale with Lexie. Here (and I think this might be true on the show after the crisis has passed) he's still in that place, but just fighting a little bit for his own corner at the same time!
And so like Mark/Lexie to have an intimate, honest conversation like that, in a non-intimate setting like that, and yet stop just short of saying the most important things. So beautifully done.
I keep quoting you, but you put everything so beautifully. I loved this part of your comment. They are like that on the show, and it's awesome that you feel I captured that here. They had to stop short at this point, I think; it was actually a huge step from where they were at the end of S6.
Ha! You wanted the whole essay, I take it, lol! I just had to write a lot because I really loved this comment and how well you seemed to relate to what I'd written. I'm honored. Thank you &hearts
PS: I LOVE your icon!
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I had let Mark/Lexie go a little bit recently; but the finale renewed all my love for them. He loves her so incredibly powerfully, and she (whatever she feels right now) trusts him so implicitly it's awe inspiring!
Anyway - thank you so much &hearts
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OOOohhhhhh PERFECT. Just...GUH, LEXIE. Absolutely everything I imagined going on in her head during the finale. Loved the ending as well.
Incredible insight, as always. <333 I love this and I love you.
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That and the incredible insight part &hearts.
Thank you, bb. I love you too!
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“I thought he was dying. I thought he was dying and, right then, I loved him enough to say it. You can’t . . .” She breathes in. “It’s awful when someone dies and you don’t tell them. It’s awful when you can’t say goodbye.”
It takes you a moment, but then you get it. “O’Malley,” you say quietly, chastened that this is the first time you realize she’s living in the aftermath of an aftermath and how much that must kill her.
"Yes," she confirms. Then adds an almost inaudible, “And my mom.”
That part is an especially wonderful explanation for her actions in the finale, and you ended this on a bittersweet sort of note that is just perfect.
Great work!
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I couldn't help feeling that all the unresolved death she's gone through recently had to play a part in the intensity of her feeling for Alex and it's awesome to know you found that a good explanation.
The ending had to be a little bittersweet, I think; even if they're going to get back together, there's a lot to deal with.
Anyway - thank you so much for the great comment. I'm so pleased you liked this &hearts
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