Sutures and Secrets | Mark Sloan

23 | Past, Present, Complicated

03x18

It had been a few days since the accident, but the memory of icy water pulling her under still lingered with a bone-deep chill. Charlie, now back at work, felt an odd mix of gratitude and exhaustion. The hospital halls buzzed with the usual chaos, but every step she took reminded her of how close she had come to never walking them again.

Derek had taken days off to be with her while she recovered. He hovered in that overprotective way only a big brother could, ensuring she was never far from his sight. His guilt from before had melted into overwhelming relief and devotion, a silent apology for all the days he had turned his back on her. He insisted on driving her to work that morning, joking about how she might as well have a protective detail following her around. Despite his hovering, his presence comforted her.

Ethan, too, had been around constantly. He seemed determined to nurse her back to health with homemade chicken noodle soup, bright bouquets of flowers, and chocolates. His smile was warm, his concern genuine and his company filled her heart with a kind of joy that only comes from being loved. Charlie appreciated everything he did for her, but no matter how hard she tried, there was an emptiness she couldn't shake - a hollow ache in her chest.

And that ache had Mark's name.

Mark had only visited her while she slept, sneaking into her hospital room in the quiet of the night when he knew she wouldn't wake. Charlie hadn't seen him, so she felt the absence of his presence like a missing piece of herself. When she was awake, there were no teasing smiles, no sarcastic remarks, not even a glimpse of his blue eyes. It was as if he had disappeared, leaving her with a sense of loss that shouldn't have been so heavy, but it was.

Ethan was wonderful. He was the kind of man who could make her happy, the kind of man she deserved - or so everyone told her. But deep down, she knew something was missing. Every time she smiled at Ethan, part of her wished she could be smiling at Mark instead. And that truth made her feel guilty, confused and more alone than she wanted to admit.

Today, surrounded by familiar chaos and kind faces, Charlie tried to ignore the emptiness Mark had left behind. But with every beat of her heart, she couldn't help but wish for the one person she wanted most but couldn't have.

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The locker room buzzed with the morning chaos of interns swapping street clothes for scrubs. Izzie stood in front of her locker, folding her arms and venting her frustration to anyone who would listen. "I just don't understand.", she complained, a frown creasing her forehead. "Alex moving into George's room is ridiculous. George has been living at that hotel with Callie ever since they got married and when his stupid marriage inevitably crashes and burns, there won't be a room for him to move back into because Alex has claimed it!"

Meredith and Charlie exchanged an exasperated glance. Charlie raised an eyebrow, while Meredith let out a sigh. Izzie was relentless today and both of them were getting tired of hearing about the house drama. Izzie, undeterred by the lack of sympathy, continued. "And it's not like there are any other rooms available! Every room in your house is taken!"

Before the conversation could spiral further, the other interns shuffled in and Izzie's complaints trailed off. Charlie, sensing the tension and needing a change of subject, turned to Meredith, her expression softening. "How are you doing, Mer?", she asked gently.

Meredith's mother had passed away only days before and even though Meredith seemed to be handling it really well, the question still lingered.

Meredith faced the room, taking a breath before addressing them all. "I'm fine.", she declared, her voice firm. "My mom's cremated. I picked out a beautiful urn. She's in the back of my closet." Her delivery was matter-of-fact and she paused to meet the eyes of each of her fellow interns, as if daring them to argue. They nodded, silently agreeing to drop the subject. There wasn't much more to say.