Fic: This Piece Of You (Part One)- 1/maybe 2
Title: This Piece Of You
Characters/Pairings: Mark/Callie, Cristina/Mark/Callie friendship, Mark/Owen friendship, some mentions of Lexie and Mark’s relationship, various other couples mentioned.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8,301 approx. (it’s a long one- split into two parts)
Genre: Romance/Friendship
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. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual. All song-lyrics mentioned belong to their respective owners, not to me.
Summary: “It’s been a while.”
****
Author’s Note: So, this WHOLE thing was inspired by the ‘Ten Drabbles’ challenge from a while back- I suddenly became really in to the whole idea of like songs leading to stories and blah. I don’t have time to start a multi-chapter thing that has a long, constant narrative- I do have time for one-shots though. ^_^ Yay. But to be completely honest, I could probably be swayed to do a two-shot. =P You guys know what to do... The second one would be written from Callie’s POV and would directly follow this one. But that’s only if you guys want to hear it, so tell me your thoughts.
I know this has a lot of Owen/Mark; but I’ve really fallen in love with their dynamic as of late. It’s just a little different to Mark/Derek. Anyways, hm, I’m not sure how I feel about it- it’s really different to how I pictured it. But you can all tell me if you hate it, and how to change it and blah. Would love to hear opinions.
So this is the first part of a series (called ‘It’s Kind Of Like A Love Song’) of one-shots (using different characters and stories) that are based on songs. This is not the official interpretation or anything of the song, this is just the scenario that I thought of when I heard the song, and thought of the characters etc. The song is ‘Sorrow’ by Flyleaf >_<
****
Familiar breath of my old lies
Changed the colour in my eyes
Soon he will perforate the fabric of the peaceful by and by.
She’s only been across town, you’ve known it for the few years you’ve been apart, but it’s just hit you: she’s been about half an hour away, an hour in bad traffic, but you’ve been too scared. Your feet have been too heavy to walk to hers, your hands too stubborn to dial the phone, and your pride too fragile and woven into your self-worth to make the first contact. There was that one time but it- It doesn’t matter. So you sat and you hoped for her to call, but she didn’t; and though you miss her voice, a part of you is kind of glad, because at least she’s still as stubborn as she was when she left. There’s still a part of her that you know.
And as you make the drive now, the thirty minute drive, you realise how ridiculous it is that you just gave her up; letting her walk away like all the other one night stands- any one of the nameless screws- you’ve accumulated over the years.
But she was never really yours to give up.
Never really yours in a way that gave you any kind of entitlement.
“Sloan?”
You look away from the road for a second and see the accepting, loving, sickening gaze of Lexie Grey. A woman- a girl- so adorable and nice (the word lazily rolls out of your mouth whenever you describe her) that she leaves a nauseatingly sweet coating all over your tongue whenever you speak to her. And it’s not that she’s that bad- far from it, you know that you wouldn’t have been with her this long if she was- it’s just the simple truth that the novelty has wilted, the affections have faded as pictures on walls do and you’re left with one lifeless, hollow room to try and redecorate with kinky sex and new haircuts every few months.
“Yeah, Grey?”
“You okay?”
“Sure...”
And she’s satisfied. The way you’ve been trying to feel.
You find it difficult to go back to your thoughts when you realise that you’re there. You’ve arrived, and though it’s in the same city, it feels far from anything familiar.
“Come on, Lexie...” You mutter, holding the door open for her and watching her step out in an outfit that should have had you in pieces- smiling a smile that should have made you melt- and placing a hand, whose skin used to make you ache, in yours. Now, it’s just comfortable. The two of you are comfortable. And for people like Derek, that’s the dream; but for you, the cosy and the mundane are the enemy.
“You looking forward to seeing Callie?” She innocently inquires, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of her name.
“Yeah, I guess... It’s been a while.”
It’s been too long.
You and your date join a crowd of faces; some you recognise, some you assume must be new friends. Maybe there’s a new best friend among these people, someone who she’s had a few on-call room liaisons with, or someone who helped her few rough times, probably giving her better advice than just “Walk Tall”. Lexie smiles at you, gesturing with her head to a particular part of the masses. Derek gives you a smile, full of comfort and sympathy- neither of which you really care for at this point- but you appreciate the effort and stand alongside him and his girlfriend. Cristina Yang and Owen Hunt glance over, and you wonder how much they’ve spoken about you, in relation to this moment.
---
“She’s... gone.”
“Come on in.” Cristina holds the door open, and you sidle past, head hung low.
“She’s gone.”
“I heard you the first time...” She closes the door behind the two of you, “And I share an apartment with her, of course I know.”
“Right... right.”
“So she finally told you, huh?”
“Finally? I-I thought this was spur of the moment?”
“No...” She drops down onto the sofa, “She’s been planning it for a while...” She announces the words with a heaviness that makes you sit down next to her.
“I don’t want her to go.”
“Not your decision...” she replies without hesitation. You nod, and she pulls her curls out from her pony-tail, rubbing her temples and looking down into her lap.
“Yang... Is this you showing emotion?”
“No.” She looks up, meeting your eyes, “No.”
“I’ll miss her too...” You smile out, placing a hand on her knee and giving it a squeeze.
She tilts her head to look at you, smiling, before getting up and letting your hand fall off of her, “I know you will.” You’re not sure whether it’s subconscious or not, but she definitely emphasised the ‘You’.
“What?” You laugh nervously, and she rolls her eyes,
“...Whatever...”
---
You lean down next to Cristina’s ear, and without looking at her, mutter, “What are we doing here?”
She looks around the room, smirking, “Looks like some kind of gathering...”
“Could be.”
“It’s a surprise... The party.”
“I’m sure she’ll love that.” You smile, “When did you last speak to her?”
“Fortnight ago... You?”
“A little longer than that.”
She smiles, you both know that this small talk is a little irrelevant. The two of you spent the last few years missing Callie and helping each other through it- mostly by getting drunk. And while she seems to have been grown-up enough to call her and make an effort, you remain infantile and small. It’s her that leans in this time, tilting her body but keeping her eyes ahead at all times, “What are you going to do?”
“What makes you think I’m going to do anything?” And you notice out of the corner of your eye that she’s cocked an eyebrow in response, “I don’t know yet” you admit, and the two of you laugh internally.
“Well, whatever it is-“ she sighs, “It’d better be good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean... That’s her boyfriend.”
“What?”
She seems to point at him without actually moving. You feel your face drop as you take him in.
He’s handsome, you’ll give him that.
Looks good in a suit.
Nice smile.
Looks kind of friendly.
Damn it.
“I don’t want to be here...” You mutter into the near-silence, close to Cristina so that Lexie won’t hear and assume too much- though she never really assumes anything bad about you and your relationship.
He comes close to the small group of Seattle Grace inhabitants that seem to have coagulated and you wonder whether he knows the relevance of all the faces he’s looking at, whether he knows what you’ve all been through- heartache and pain that he could never know, and you childishly hold it over his head in some vain attempt to be better than him; he smiles at the crowd in a way that’s for all of them, and walks closer still. He gets to you and shakes your hand, as he’s done with various, randomly-chosen members of the herd, “Glad you could come.” He smiles a genuine smile, Bastard, and continues with his rounds of the room.
“I really don’t want to be here...”
“Don’t worry.” She smiles, and you turn your face slightly without moving your body to look at her, “He’s an accountant.”
You turn back and the two of you smirk outwards.
---
It’s kind of funny to watch her lean in and kiss Owen’s cheek, both of your relationships started about the same time- about the time Callie left- and hers is still going strong, still seems new and raw, in a good way. Her lips graze his stubble, and he smiles as she reaches a hand onto the other side of his cheek, stroking just under his ear with her thumb. And you cringe as Lexie’s bare shoulder brushes up against your arm- she is perfectly attractive, still beautiful- but her touch does nothing for you. You almost feel bad for the feelings of indifference that bluntly run inside of you when she laces her fingers between yours; you look down at your intertwined hands and though you kind of want to itch your face or run your fingers through your hair, you don’t have the heart to just leave her hand there limp. She really has done nothing wrong.
Everybody shouts “surprise” just a half second too late, and you’re even further behind. Her face lights up, her dark eyes illuminated and hands rising to her face in shock. She places a hand at her chest and leans forward slightly, gasping with air at the faces in front of her. Matthew- the recently discovered name of the boyfriend- makes his way towards her, arms outstretched; she grips onto him tightly and he laughs in her ear- you kind of hope it’s a little too loud or that she finds his voice irritating or something, but she laughs back and you realise that she’s really happy.
He cups her chin and lands a kiss on the end of her nose, which she’s wrinkled with the laughing, before taking hold of her hand and leading her down the stairs. She’s still laughing as she waves at faces she recognises and Matthew leans in and whispers something to her- a private joke, a term of endearment, whatever it is, it makes you angry instantly. You squeeze Lexie’s hand a little tighter, and she takes this as a sign of affection- her mood lightening instantly- but she doesn’t notice the fist you’ve made in the other hand.
She stops for a second in front of two of the many people that you don’t know, but she seems to be very close to them. She makes a face that tells you she’s telling them how shocked she is, how glad they could make it, and how happy she is to have found someone who can surprise her like this. She gestures that she should move on but she’ll speak to them later before sighing (ever so slightly) and smiling at the next group.
Wait a minute. Rewind. You look down at Cristina who’s smiling and seems to have clocked the same thing. The same sigh and accompanying facial expression. You both laugh under your breath, she tilts her head slightly and you rub your jaw- it’s kind of funny really.
Callie knew. About the party, she knew. And Matthew has no idea.
It’s not that it’s something to signal the end of a relationship. Far from it. It’s just amusing. You’re laughing because you like knowing that you still can read her, and apparently this guy can’t. She’s still tangible in some way.
Still yours.
---
“How are you holding up?” Owen mumbles to you, an empathetic hand on your shoulder, and you appreciate the warm pressure on you right now.
You shrug, “Surviving...”
And he nods, giving you a momentary pat and then turning his body outwards. And we both wait for the woman of the hour to reach our little group. Though it seems like it’ll be a while... Your eyes fixate on her smile from across the room, her cheeks must be aching by now; you can’t help but wish that she’s miserable and all this is fake and that she’ll take one look at you, throw her arms around your neck and ask you to take her home. But her lips don’t quiver, her eyes don’t glass over, her hands aren’t shaking- she’s calm and content and happy. And you hate that.
She creeps ever-closer and you fight the urge to bolt out the door before she notices you, because you don’t know what to say, or whether she’ll be happy to see you- that’s the thing about surprise parties, you don’t have much control over the guest list. And before she reaches you, her boyfriend chimes on his glass and asks for attention; she smiles, but her brow is furrowed as she attempts to guess what’s going to happen.
“Hey, everyone. Thank you for coming. I think Callie’s face told us that she was... quite sufficiently surprised, so thank you all for not telling.” You and Cristina share a glance, and both of your lips twist into a half-smile.
“As you all know, we are here to celebrate Callie’s becoming Head of Ortho. Something that came with a lot of hard work, a lot of long hours, a lot of stress. But you made it, sweetie-“ The pet name makes you gag. “And I’m so proud of you.” Callie places a hand to her face in admiration, and the women around her coo and murmur as you rub your jaw in frustration.“But that isn’t exactly what tonight is about.” What? “I mean, that is what tonight is about- but there’s a little something more.” You search Callie’s face, wondering if she has any clue what’s going on. She doesn’t.
He reaches into his pocket, “Oh crap.” You mutter to Cristina, who’s stood up a little straighter now, and you figure she’s thinking the same thing. And as he produces a small black box from his jacket, you realise you both were right.
“I’m hoping that we have a little something else to celebrate-“ Callie cups her hands to her face, smiling and tearing up,
“Oh God...” Cristina murmurs,
“It’s sweet-“ Derek whispers between the two of you, and you both shoot him a look, “No, it’s not. It’s- I find it disgusting.” He places a well-meaning hand on your back, and you grunt in response.
She’s walking towards him, pushing dark curls behind her ear and smiling, And he places a hand around her face, “Will you marry me?”
She doesn’t say anything, she’s too choked up- and you hate that she’s so happy- she just nods, and lets him slide the ring onto her finger. She delicately places her lips onto his, as he kisses her, it’s a peck- too chaste for your taste, but disgustingly sweet all the same.
You hear Lexie gush and squeal to the side of you and it makes you angry, so you drop her hand and leave it dangling. You smile because you realise pictures are being taken all around you, and you don’t want to stand out for your scowl. You lean into Cristina, who’s clapping through a fake smile, “What the hell just happened?”
“I have no idea...” She whispers back, there’s a silence between the two of you before she utters, “Guess whatever you do is gonna have to be a little bigger now.”
---
Sorrow lasts through this night
I'll take this piece of you, and hold for all eternity
For just one second I felt whole...
...As you flew right through me.
The room is decorated with balloons and ribbons, things you consider too cheap to celebrate someone like Callie- you look over at her through the crowds of people dancing, eating, talking, smiling. She’s holding his hand, her tanned skinned and newly-ringed fingers holding onto his, and the two smile at each other in a way that makes you want to vomit back up whatever party food you just scoffed down. He moves a piece of hair from her face and she kisses his hand as it passes her lips. He cups her face before landing the hand on her thigh, and there it stays. You can’t take your eyes off of it; his skin rests on the fabric of her clothes, in the warmth and comfort of her body. And you miss her touch.
The wine flows at your particular table, Owen makes you laugh with comments about how much of a pansy the other guy looks,
“I mean, Cristina’s more man than him.” He smirks out, and you laugh as you both take a sip from your respective glasses,
“I’m more man than most guys...” She replies through a slight slur, “Especially accountants...”
“Right?! That’s not Callie’s type...” You spit out the next word, “Accountant?” Before taking another sip, “What do they even do?”
“I don’t know, something with numbers...” She rests her head tiredly on Owen’s shoulder, and he smiles as he kisses her forehead, “What are we meant to do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“I just- Whatever, I just had this idea of her coming home.” You and Owen look at her, it’s kind of sweet to see the sympathetic side to Yang.
“She seems happy.” Lexie throws in, and the comment lands in on the table like a dead bird,
“... Does she?” You ask, looking over at her- she’s receiving a kiss on the cheek from her mother, who admires her fiancé (you hate the sound of that word) in her ear, making her smile and blush.
“Yeah, she really does.” And your girlfriend smiles,
“Her fiancé seems nice...” She says the offending word in a tone that lets you know that she’s wishing you ask her the same thing. But you won’t. That’s too cruel. Your wedding would become one of those things that you always talked about and never went through with, because as bad as it is to be in a relationship filled with indifference, to be locked in such a marriage would be so much worse.
“I guess...” You shrug out, trying to hide any ounce of emotion that dared to creep out.
“I’m going to go get a drink.” She kisses your cheek, and you take another sip of your scotch, savouring the burn before letting it pass down your throat.
She walks away and you feel the eyes of most men in the room, watching her, and why shouldn’t they- she’s fantastic, perfect looking, cute and young and everything that teenage boys fantasise about when they’re led in bed at night.
“When are you going to break up with her, Sloan?” Cristina grumbles and Owen playfully pats her on the arm, making her laugh,
“No, seriously. I get it, the sex must be unreal. She’s all with the...” She gestures to her chest, “Perky...” You and Owen share a look, he smiles as she continues, “But if you’re so miserable-“
“Miserable? Do I look miserable?”
“Yeah, you kind of do.” Owen smirks,
Cristina resumes her statement, “If you’re so miserable...
Then why not cut your losses and move on?”
You sigh, you have no idea why you don’t- maybe it’s because she’s done nothing wrong, and you feel like you’re doing her a favour by staying with her, keeping her happy. You’d love to psychoanalyse and make out that it’s really just about your fear of being alone; that the cold, selfish part of you hasn’t died and you’re really just using her, she’s providing a service. But you know that isn’t true.
“I want to speak to her.”
“You sure that’s the best thing... In your present state...?”
“Probably not.” Another glug, “I’ll let you know how it goes...” Owen smiles as he watches you struggle to stand, and places hand at your back to push you up when you stumble, you laugh and thank him.
And you’re up, on your feet, in a somewhat steady stance. You down the rest of your glass in a final bid for courage. You’re not really sure whether this is the best thing, not even sure of what you’re going to say to her- it’s been a while, is small talk appropriate, some admission of guilt, grand apology.
---
What are you doing?
You’re sat in the car park of a hospital that you don’t work at, looking out for her car, missing your shift.
What the hell are you doing?
You have no idea, but your reluctant body won’t let you drive away until you at least see her, you’ll just- you’ll just feel better when you see her.
It’s been a year.
You wonder how much she’s changed, whether she’ll look any different, be any happier. Your breath catches in your chest as a car pulls in, but it’s not her. You don’t even know if she’s coming in today, you just hope she is...
Another car.
Black head of curls, thick and untamed, flash past in the window; and you childishly and naively duck down out of her view. She doesn’t see you. Her car is too far away, and she’s not looking for you, she’s not expecting to see your face. You watch her get out of the car- feeling more than a little stupid- and tie her locks back into a bun, slipping on her white coat and finishing the last of her coffee. You take in every detail- each facial expression and hand movement- because you know that this will be one of those moments you replay a lot, and you don’t want to miss parts of it.
She reaches into her pocket, taking out her phone and pressing it against her face; you never could really read lips, especially not from fifteen feet away, but you know she’s smiling. You hope it’s a friend, some casual platonic acquaintance, and not a potential love interest. She yawns, checks her nails, grabs some cases out of her car, all while on the phone and you take a sense of contentment in the feeling that she’s not particularly invested in the conversation. And you suddenly hope that it is a lover, that she feels the same indifference and banality you feel in your own relationship.
Maybe you could get out of the car, go talk to her, hug her, make her laugh, make her smile, apologise, cry, kiss her, brush a curl back from her face, anything- you just want to touch her, hear her voice, at least be within a foot of her. Instead of hiding in your car like the idiot you are.
Get out of the car.
Get. Out. Of. The. Car.
She walks past, still on the phone, and you watch her through your mirror. She dumps the cup into the bin, and carries on walking and you hate that she’s found a rhythm at this new place. It’s selfish, yes. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish that she’s crashed and burned and come back to Seattle Grace.
Sitting closer than my pain...
He knew each tear before it came,
And soon he will perforate the fabric of the peaceful by and by.
Part Two