For A Reason {Mark Sloan} - COMPLETED -

fifty one::::

"Your mom may or may not have gotten invited."

"Dad," I sighed, "I'd really not rather her be there. She'll just make me feel like crap about my addiction. She always does."

"Brandy, I think you two need to sort through your differences and make up. I'm so sick of this constant battle between you two."

"It doesn't matter Dad. I'll buy your tickets tonight and send them to you," I said, "I got to go, bye dad. I love you. See you soon."

He sighed heavily, "Bye Brands. See you soon. Love you bunches."

The phone hung up. 

I had lost track of time. I couldn't believe it had been 10 years already. I knew my dad was right. I should be proud of myself, but I just felt guilty. I felt awful. I let him down, I let my family down. I let myself down. I almost failed out of medical school. I couldn't imagine what if I had failed out of medical school? What if I never became a surgeon? Would I still have made it to Seattle? Would I have met Meredith and Cristina? Alex? Izzie? George? Jackson? Would Mark and I have ever happened? Ben?  What if I never got to ten years? What if I never even got to one? What if?

°°

What If?

My eyes fluttered open. I looked down at my arm and saw an IV connected to a bag of fluids. The strong smell of cleaning products burned my nose a bit. The room was bright, hurting my eyes. 

"Oh goodness, you're awake!" 

I looked over and saw my grandma and grandpa sitting next to me.

"Where-Where am I?" I said, my voice raspy. My body hurting as well.

"You're in the hospital, honey, Seattle Grace. They put you into a coma a couple weeks ago," my grandma explained.

"Wh-why?" I started to get anxious.

"Oh, honey," my grandma placed a hand on mine, causing me to jolt. 

I started to breathe heavily. My body felt as if it was on fire and I started sweating.

"Arthur, get the doctor," My grandma said.

◦◦

"Withdrawal symptoms?" My dad looked at the doctor confused, "She's been out for weeks! How is she having symptoms?"

My body twitched. I felt sweat dripping down from my head to toes. When I thought of myself in a hospital, this isn't what I imagined. I felt embarrassed, humiliated. I felt like I let my family down. I was just the junkie daughter who went and almost got herself killed. 

"Are you sick? Do you have cancer?" I looked over to my little brother. 

He was the one who made me feel the most guilty. He was only nine. He almost lost his sister. At nine. 

"I'm sick," I nodded, "But I don't have cancer. I'll be okay. Don't worry about me."

He nodded his head, "You know, I'm kind of glad you got sick. I got to come see you, and grandma and grandpa. Thank you. I missed you guys."

I laughed, sending radiating pain through my body, "I missed you too, buddy."

"Excuse me," A different doctor poked his head in, "Hi. I, um, I'm just here to check up on some things."

"Ian, why don't you go get some food from the cafeteria," I grabbed my purse out, searching for some money, pulling out a couple quarters, "Uh, I think there's a vending machine down the hall  actually."