A/N: So I'd like to make some things clear about this story before you start reading. It's taking place at the same exact Sloan Riley(Mark's daughter) came into Grey's Anatomy. (This would have been around season 5) But this is where you have to start listening, Tess is in no way like Sloan Riley, she's a completely different person. Um what else do I have to say, Mark and Lexie are together too, and yeah, everything else I'm gonna figure out as we go through the story. I know this isn't the best first chapter I've ever written, actually I'm really annoyed with my writing right now so I'm kinda fighting myself about this chapter, but you need to start somewhere you know. This is a relatively short chapter, and I'm planning to make the future chapters larger. And please, I cannot stress this enough, REVIEW, You can criticize my writing or you can compliment it, as long as you tell me what I'm doing wrong or what you don't like, I'm fine with it. Okay so I should probably let you start reading, thank-you for taking the time to read it by the way. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to Shonda Rhimes, except Tess, Tess is sort of mine.

"Everybody is a stranger. But that's the danger in going my own way." -John Mayer

I've always been the forgotten one. Always. It's sort of a depressing thought when you really think about it, but the really dark and twisty part comes in when you learn that I'm just so used to it that I don't even care. My name is Tessa, I go by Tess though. I've lived in Chicago my entire life, until now. The past week has been what you would call complete and utter hell, and now I'm here in Seattle, awaiting the arrival of my father, who by the way I've never met before, in a waiting room.

Seattle Grace is the stereotypical hospital you think of when someone mentions breaking a leg, the ER is especially familiar. It's overcrowded, there are nurses on every corner, if you really stretch to look beyond the counter you see about a dozen people laying on tables, most of them don't look like their hurt that badly, but I assume the really bad ones are in the rooms that have blinds on all the windows. There are constantly nurses and doctors swarming around them, bringing gauze's and other utensils, and every once in awhile they wheel someone out in a hurry, in another direction of course, but you can always catch a glimpse of each doctors face, focused and ready for anything. I've been waiting in a chair for 45 minutes, along with the another 20 people, most who seem to have minor complications, such as a severe headache, which I really don't think needs an ER visit. But then again I shouldn't be talking, I don't even have a problem. I got into the waiting room by feigning severe stomach pains, the nurse had looked at me skeptically but looked at me skeptically, but had written my name down.

Don't get me wrong, I know what I'm doing is wrong, I'm probably breaking 20 laws in the process of doing this, but I really don't think I could have stayed in Chicago a minute longer, everything's changed, not that it was any better before everything happened.

The past week has seemed like a nightmare, a bad dream that I just can't wake up from, but now it's all suddenly real. Maybe it's because the whole reason for my crazy irrational choices is in the same building as me right now, or maybe it's because I'm about to meet my father for the first time. All I know is that the numb feeling has been banished by a flurry of butterflies deep within my stomach. Or maybe the numbness isn't gone, maybe it's just being temporarily hidden by feelings much bigger than it. But either way I'm nervous as hell. My mind has gone through a million different scenarios of what it'll be like to meet my father, if he'll like me, and welcome me with open arms, or if he will resent me and send me right back to where I came from.

I didn't know it till a week ago but apparently I can get a hold of all my files concerning me from a nice receptionist at a Social Services office. These files included my birth certificate, which my mother had conveniently lost, but luckily they make copies of these things, and right there in neat handwriting was my father's name, I learned a lot from that piece of paper, I learned that my mother had given me his last name, and not my great grandfathers, like she had originally said, I learned that my mother has been basically lying to me my whole entire life, which shouldn't have come as a surprise, but despite past experiences it did. I learned that I wasn't born in Chicago, but in New York. And last but not least I learned that it takes 12 dollars now a days for the fine state of New York to recognize you exist. So with that newly found information I googled my father's name and found that he lives in Seattle as a world class plastic surgeon at Seattle Grace Hospital. So now I'm here, clutching my stomach because I'm convinced if I don't play the part of a person in pain the nurse will kick me out.

"Tessa Sloan." A nurse calls out in the distance, I freeze, and get up, forcing my body to move. Once I finally reach the desk, she looks at me.

"Where are your Parents?" she asks skeptically. I look at here blankly, chiding myself for being so incredibly stupid of not seeing this coming.

"My dad's working, and my mom left to go get me something to eat." I say quickly, at least I wasn't totally lying. The nurse nodded and began to walk and led me to a room, I sat down obediently, distantly wondering if they were just out of beds to put the ER patients in. The nurse asked a few more questions and scribbled down the answers on a chart.

"Okay, Dr. Reynolds will be in soon to check you out." She said as she got ready to leave the room.

"Wait," I began, stopping her " Um is it possible if I could get Dr. Sloan as my doctor?" I ask timidly. Watching the nurse as she raises her eyebrows, and glances at my chart.

" Are you related to him?" She questions.

"No." I lied, I didn't need the whole world to know who my father was before he even knew.

"Well I don't know see why you would need him as your doctor, he's a plastic surgeon." She points out.

"I'm an old patient, I'd just feel more comfortable with someone I know, It's not like he can't spare 5 minutes to check out some stomach pains." I argued, lying again. The nurse raised her eyebrows but kept talking.

"I'll see if he's free, but I'm not guaranteeing anything." She replied. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding.

"Thank-you." I said as she swiftly walked out my room, obviously in a hurry to help other people. I stared at the walls that were painted a light blue, a picture of the ocean hanging on the wall. I stared at the small intricate details of the portrait, trying to keep my mind off my father, trying to force myself into calming down, but it didn't work, it never does. My brain was thinking 100 different thoughts at the same time, an overwhelming sensation. So I let my brain do what it wanted and just went with it. 5 minutes passed and turned to ten minutes which turned to twenty minutes, and by now I felt like I was going crazy. And then suddenly the door opened and in came Mark Sloan.

My mind blanked, those 100 thoughts vanished, until there wasn't anything but him right there. I blinked, trying to find the similarities between us, the first thing that stood out was his eyes, they were exactly like mine, then came the noses, and the shape of his face. Everything else I got from my mother, including my light brown hair.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Sloan, So what's the problem?" He asked simply, looking at me. My mouth refused to move, I opened it for a second, trying to make myself say something, anything, but my voice seemed to have deserted me. So I sat there, staring at him, with nothing to say. He gave me a somewhat concerned look.

"Hey are you okay?" He asked, I desperately wanted to do something, scream at him for not being there, hug him just because I found him, or even answer his damn question. But nope, my stupid mouth chooses now, of all times to not listen to my brain. He stared at me for another second.

"What's your name?" He said, trying once again to get a reaction out of me, although the chart was right next to me, and he could easily look at it. He looked at me once again, I could feel his eyes trying to decipher what was wrong. He began to start doing some sloppy sign language.

"Tess." I quickly said, my voice finally composing itself. He looked at me again, acknowledging that I had made a sound.

"Excuse me?"

"My name's Tess." I repeated, this time a bit more loudly. Mark nodded, and shot me a smile.

"Well Tess, I'm glad you're finally talking. I heard that you directly requested for me, any reason why?" He asked casually as he rummaged through the cabinets to find a pair of gloves.

"My mother knew you." I replied as he snapped on the gloves. He returned his attention back to me.

"And where is your mother right know?"

"She died." I muttered, a sharp pain that I didn't know existed spread through my body as I said the words. I watched his face as a flash of sympathy spread through his features.

"I'm sorry to hear that," He paused "So what brings you here?" He questioned. For a second I didn't know what he meant by that, until I remembered my cover story for being here in the first place.

"My stomach hurts, I've been having severe pains." I replied as he nodded, processing this information.

"Have you had any other symptoms, like a fever, or maybe you were sick a week ago?"

"Um no, I think it's just my stomach." I answered

"Okay is it like shooting pains or throbbing?"

"Shooting." Mark nodded.

" Ok, can you lie down and pull up your shirt just a little so I can examine your stomach just to make sure it's nothing major? I can go get your dad or a nurse if you feel uncomfortable." He added. The irony was almost laughable, if he only he knew, my dad was already in here.

"No it's fine." I said, a little flustered as I lied back onto the table, I pulled my shirt up so he could see my stomach. I watched as he came forward, trying to figure out when to tell him that he was my father, or if I should even tell him. I realized that I was trying to avoid it, I was trying to avoid it because I was afraid of how he would react. But I hadn't come all this way just to get told about a stomach ache I didn't even have, I mentally made a note that I would tell him today, even if I had to chase him down the hallways.

"Ok I'm gonna put some pressure on your abdomen now, tell me if anything hurts, okay?" He gently put his hand on my skin and lightly pushed it down, and repeated the process, the only difference was that he moved his hand, soon enough I realized if I wanted to go through with this I would have to actually tell him that something hurts. Great, the first encounter I've had with my dad, and it's a lie.

"Ow." I say as he pushes down on the middle-top part of my stomach. He nods and removes his hand.

"Well the good news is that you're not dying," Mark began as he took off the gloves and threw them into the trash bin "I think you might just have a bad case of muscle strain, it should go away in a week or two, if it doesn't go away, come back." He said as he flipped to another piece of paper. "I can give you some painkillers if it's really bad, but you don't seem like you're in extreme pain, Now I just need your full name for the record, and your dad can fill out the rest of the paper, then you give it to the nurse and you'll be free to go." And now I realized if I was ever going to tell him I needed to tell him now, or it really all would be nothing.

"My name's Tessa Mae Sloan," I said and waited a fraction of a second as I made sure the words had hit him "and I think you're my father." I blurted out, just as a dark haired doctor burst through the door.

"Mark, come on, I've been paging you for the last 10 minutes, I need a plastics consult, you need to start answering your damn pager!" She told him, but her words seemed to go right through him as his attention didn't waiver from me. And suddenly I began to regret my decision of coming here, I began to regret telling him he was my father, I began to regret everything, and all I wanted to do was run away, but I felt like I was rooted to the table, I felt like his gaze could keep me there forever if he wanted.

"Mark!" The doctor yelled, an attempt at snapping him back to reality.

"Not now Callie." He said his stare didn't flicker to her even for a second. She stood there for a second observing the scene.

"What's going on?" She asked, and that simple question was enough to avert his attention to her for a second, and that was enough for me to be able to get off the exam table and make a run for the door.

"Excuse me," I said as I pushed passed Callie and fled into the hallways, determined to get out, I didn't know where I was gonna go or where, all I knew was that I couldn't stay here anymore. It was clear that I was an inconvenience to his life, and although I had prepared myself endlessly for his reaction, I couldn't help but being a little hurt, I mean who wants to know that they're not wanted?

I ran outside into the downpour of rain, and realized I didn't have a clue about Seattle, I'd been sleeping on buses and benches for the past 4 days and eating in cheap restaurants .I didn't have a clue which way to go, so I sat down on the bench, and stared as various people came in and out of the hospital. I imagined what they're lives might be like, I imagined that they were happy that they didn't have any worries in the world. And I was so caught up in this that when someone with a white coat sat next to me, I didn't even notice until she began to talk.

"So you're Marks' daughter." She said, a clear attempt at conversation.

"Yeah, I think so." I replied simply, there really wasn't much to say.

"Would you mind proving it?" She asked, a question that took me off guard.

"Why? It's not like he even wants me." I replied bitterly. On that she turned to face me.

"How do you know that?"

"Well Isn't it obvious, I mean I'm sort of a inconvenience to his life, he doesn't know what to do with me."

"Okay, wait a second, from what I know he hasn't said two words to you since you randomly told him you're his daughter. You couldn't possibly know if he wants you or not," Callie argued.

"Well does he?" This time I turned around so could meet her eyes.

"Well how am I supposed to know, the only person who really does know would be Mark," She began, " So you can either go back in there and make this official and find out what he thinks of you, or you can leave, I'm not gonna make you do anything, It's your choice. But f you want my opinion there's nothing worse than not knowing." And with that she got up and walked back into the hospital, leaving me with my thoughts. And so I fought with myself, and ultimately decided that she was right, I couldn't just leave. I got up and turned on my heels to walk into the hospital, ready to deal with whatever his decision would be.

I quietly made my way through the hallways as I found the room that I had previously fled from. I took a deep breath and walked in, finding Mark and Callie talking, their conversation freezing to a halt as I walked in. And then the staring contest seem to have begun, he couldn't take his eyes off of me and I couldn't take mine off of him, it was simple as that. It was dead silent for about a minute before Callie snapped out of it.

"Okay I'm gonna go get the paternity test, don't do anything to each other." She said cautiously as she hurriedly walked out of the room, leaving us alone. Neither of us really knew what to say to each other, or maybe we wanted to sat too much, who knew, but the silence had begun to become deafening. So we stayed like that for 10 minutes before he finally chose to break the silence.

"What's your mother's name?" He asked, his eyes scanning mine.

"Suzanne Collins," I answered. A flash of recognition fled through his eyes.

"When did she die?"

"Last week." Shock took over his features while pain overtook mine.

"I'm sorry," He repeated from earlier, except this one was different, this one was more heartfelt and personal.

"Don't be, it's not your fault." I said by default, I had gotten so used to saying it that it just rolled off my tongue naturally.

"Do you live in Seattle or.."

"No, I'm from Chicago." I cut him off, averting my gaze to the floor.

"Oh." He said slowly, as if this was some huge surprising piece of information. Both of our stares went to Callie as she came back with a handful of materials.

"Okay so apparently all we need to do is get some swab samples, and a blood draw," she walked over to Mark and sat down next to him. "Say ah." She demanded, and he obediently obeyed, she took a quick sample from inside his cheek and put the cotton swab in a plastic swab labeled Mark. She took out a needle then and found a vein on Marks arm to stick it in. She withdrew some blood, but even through that his stare didn't waiver from me. She moved to me, I followed her directions, wincing when the needle struck my arm.

"Sorry," Callie muttered as she put my blood in a vial.

"It's okay." I replied, dismissing her apology.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get these tested right now, I'll be back in 30 minutes okay?" She eyed me for a second. "You're pale, go get something to eat, the cafeteria is downstairs." And with that she left, leaving us alone again. Frankly, I was starving, I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and by now I felt like I was dying of hunger, but I wasn't going to tell him that. I didn't want to seem like a brat, plus the numbness that I felt was beginning to overcome the hunger pains.

So we sat there, a sea of silence between us, and we're on opposite ends of it.