EPILOGUE:

Author's Note: So no Grey's tonight (is that a good thing? I've gotten prep for Feb 3rd), but I thought I'd post this for you guys. This is the final post; hope you like it.

Saturday, April 12, 2025

Fifteen years later

Peter walks around the house, looking for his parents. They'd been acting odd all day—quiet and reserved. It was weird, considering how boisterous they usually were. Plus, both of them took off work—somethingunheard of for either of them, at least from Peter's perspective. Even Uncle Derek and Aunt Meredith—who'd visited a few hours ago—were acting off. He'd talked to Lily about it earlier, but she said she didn't notice anything different about their parents. But still, Peter couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else…Some secret they all knew about but weren't willing to discuss with him.

…

A few hours earlier

"Hey, Uncle Derek," Peter calls, opening the front door, surprised to see him at their house. "Aunt Meredith," he greets, hugging them both.

"Hey, Pete," they reply, glancing at him quickly before stepping inside.

"Are your parents here?" Derek asks, looking around.

"Uh, yeah, they're out back," Peter informs them, leading the way to the back yard. "Hey, Mom, Dad," he calls, stepping outside. "Aunt Meredith and Uncle Derek are here."

Lexie and Mark look up, turning around in their chairs to see their friends arrive. Once they reach each other, the sisters hug immediately. Peter watches, surprised, as his father does the same with Derek, the two men clasping each other on the back.

"What's going on?" Peter asks with a nervous smile. "Did I miss something?"

Both his aunt and uncle's eyes fly to his parents, while they both stare at him, bewildered, for a few seconds. His father is the first to snap out of it.

"Nothing," he replies, smiling hastily. "We just haven't seen these two in forever!" He calls, reaching over to hug Meredith as well. Peter rolls his eyes; it's a documented fact that his parents only get weirder around their friends.

"If you say so," Peter replies, knowing full well they see each other every day. "I'll be upstairs," he tells them, heading back inside. Just as he reaches the back porch, voices float up to meet him. He pauses, one foot indoors, to hear what they're saying when they think he's gone.

"You haven't told him?" Peter furrows his brow. Told me what? If that line wasn't cryptic enough, he could swear there was a sad tone to his aunt's voice. Weird.

"When would they, Mer?" That's his uncle, sounding a bit sympathetic.

"It's not that we don't want to tell him," his father is saying. "It's just…We don't know how we should. Or when. Lily's only twelve. I don't think she'd…Understand…" His father's voice trails off, sounding worried. What are they keeping from us? Peter thinks, confused at their conversation but now completely engrossed.

"We've talked about it," his mother says quietly. "We just don't want to burden them unnecessarily. It's not like they can do anything about it. What happened…happened."

"I'm sorry, Lexie," his aunt replies. Sorry for what? "I didn't mean to bring it up. If you don't want to—"

"Peter! Peter, come here," Lily calls from inside. "You have to see this!" Peter wishes he could yell back and tell her to give him a minute…But that would only blow his cover. Peter sighs, bringing his whole body inside and walking to find his sister. I guess I'll never know what they're so intent to keep from us, he thinks, closing the door softly behind him.

…

His parents usually told him everything, not matter what it was. But today, things were different.

Things were weird.

"Hey, Mom?" Peter calls, moving through the kitchen. "Dad?"

No one answers, and Peter keeps moving from room to room, determined to find them and figure out what's going on. He looks more carefully this time—they have to be somewhere. He never saw any cars leave or heard the front door shut. He walks to the end of the hall, knocking on his parents' bedroom door, opening it slowly. "You guys in here?"

Mark and Lexie look up from where they're sitting on the edge of the bed. Peter's father has his arm wrapping around his mother's shoulder and he's holding her hand within his. Peter glances between them, wondering what they're doing. Did someone die? He wonders, immediately running through a list of his older relatives in his head, trying to find a connection. Is that what Aunt Meredith was saying when she was sorry she brought it up?

Peter didn't have any grandparents left, but he had aunts, uncles, cousins…Maybe that's why Uncle Derek and Aunt Meredith were here earlier. Maybe something happened…And they didn't want to tell him? Peter feels a twinge of annoyance breaking through the fear. They always made a point to tell him when something big happened—no matter if it was bad or good. So why were they quiet now?

"What happened?" He asks cautiously, stepping into the room. It's only now, as his eyes roam over his parents, that he realizes what they were doing—his mother is holding a photograph in her hand. He can tell it's old by the worn edges. Our house is full of pictures, Peter thinks, his worries quickly shifting to confusion. Since when do they carry around one without framing it?

Mark looks up, meeting his son's worried gaze. "Nothing happened," he says quietly. "This is just a…hard day," he finishes, holding Lexie's hand tighter.

"Is it Grandma Shepherd?" Peter asks, remembering his uncle and aunt's presence earlier in the day. Though he saw them a lot, they didn't usually stop by together, unannounced, like that—especially in the middle of a workday. His eyes immediately mist over at the realization, ignoring his father's assurance. "Did she…Did she…Oh, god, did she die?"

Mark shakes his head quickly, letting go of his wife's hand and standing up quickly. "No, no, she's fine," he assures his son. "It's—it's not her."

Peter lets out a breath of relief before noting his father's word choice. "Not…'not her?'" he quotes. "Then—then someone died? Who was it? Is that why Aunt Meredith was here? And Uncle Derek—"

"He was your brother," his mother explains quietly, raising her eyes to meet her son's disbelieving stare.

"Brother?" Peter manages, dumbfounded.

"Lex," his father murmurs, turning towards her and giving her a look that says she doesn't need to explain. He can do it; she doesn't need to go there. You don't need to tell him, Mark thinks. Not now, not today. Even all these years later, his protectiveness for her hasn't faded.

Peter's eyes flick from his parents to the photo and back again. "I have a brother?"

Lexie swallows, glancing to Mark. He turns towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder, in comfort, in solidarity of their loss.

"No, you…You don't. I, um, I…" Lexie looks down, doing her best to keep her emotions in check in front of her son. She pauses, taking a deep breath.

"Your mom had a miscarriage," Mark explains quietly, stepping in for her.

"Oh, I…" Peter pauses, trailing off without any idea of what to say. This was not what he was expecting. "I'm…sorry," he finishes after a moment, his uncertainty turning the statement into a question.

"It's okay," Lexie says, putting a smile on her face and meeting his eyes. "It was a long time ago, before your Dad and I were married, but it…"

"It still hurts," Mark finishes for her, catching her eye and squeezing her hand tightly. Peter looks down at the floor, immediately filled with guilt.

"Sorry, I—I didn't mean to bring back anything, I just…I thought…"

"It's okay, Pete," Lexie smiles, motioning for him not to worry. She looks up at him, tilting the picture towards her son. "You want to see?"

Peter nods, walking up slowly. He stares at the mostly black image, trying to imagine what it would be like to have an older brother. His eyes trace over the outline of the baby as his mind wanders through all the possibilities.

"We were going to name him Michael," Mark says quietly. Peter glances to his father, but Mark doesn't meet his son's eyes. He looks to his mother, but she, too, is staring intently at the image on the paper. He studies them both for a minute; confused and half-convinced he can see sometime akin to tears right beneath the surfaces of their respective gazes. He had heard of couples having miscarriages, sure, but he always thought they got past it, moved on, had other kids. That was what people did, didn't they? They moved on?

"You miss him," Peter states quietly. "That's why you've been quiet all day. That's why you've been home, with…with me and Lily." Both Mark and Lexie nod. Peter pauses, knowing he doesn't have to elaborate, doesn't need to say what they're all thinking: With your living children. "Did Aunt Meredith and Uncle Derek know? Is that why they were here?"

Lexie is the first to tear her eyes away from the image and settle on her living son. "Yes," she replies quietly. "This—today—this is when we," she pauses, swallowing. "This is when we lost him."

"I…I'm so sorry, Mom," Peter mutters quietly, feeling guilty for deepening their obvious sorrow out of his own selfish curiosity. He wishes he could do something; hug her or hold her hand or tell her again how sorry he is…But he suddenly seems incapable of doing anything. Instead, he looks down to the floor, his eyes flicking to the ultrasound image every few seconds.

"It's all right," she assures him belatedly after a minute. "Like I said, it's been a long time." She sighs, smiling up at him. "And we've got you and Lily," she says, changing the subject quickly and giving him a one-armed hug. "We love you guys."

"I know," he replies, smiling back quickly. "I'll, um, I can go now," he tells them, making his way back across the room. Just as he's about to close the door behind him, he pauses for a moment, glancing back to his parents. Peter can see them comfort each other through the small crack in the door and he feels the guilt pierce through again.

"Hey, it's okay," his father is saying quietly, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist as they stand side-by-side. She nods vigorously, lifting a hand to her face, covering her mouth.

"I know," she replies, her voice muffled by her hand. "I know," she repeats before her voice is choked away by tears. She lets out a tortured sob before Mark pulls her towards him, wrapping his arms protectively around her back. Lexie buries her face into his shoulder, clutching her husband tightly.

"We had to tell him sometime," Mark remarks quietly, resting his head on her shoulder as he feels tears escaping from his eyes as well. Peter looks down, feeling awful that he was the one to make them relive what happened. "We'll tell Lily when she's older." His mother nods, not trusting her voice to be strong enough to speak, as she lifts a hand to wipe the still-falling tears off of her face roughly.

"You did good," Mark murmurs, holding his wife tightly. She nods again. Lexie wipes her face one last time before pulling back.

"You too," Lexie replies. Mark looks down, averting his eyes. Lexie puts a hand under his chin, raising it slightly. "Hey, it's okay," she tells him, using his words. Mark nods, swallowing the lump in his throat and meeting her eyes. She smiles sadly at him, reaching up to brush away his tears as well. Peter swallows roughly at this, sucking in a breath—though he'd seen his mother cry when she lost her father, he's never seen his father cry. Not once, not in fourteen years.

"This is ridiculous," Lexie admits softly with a small chuckle, holding her husband's face between her hands. "It's been almost fifteen years," she says with a sad smile, "and we can't get past it."

"I don't think it's ridiculous," he murmurs honestly, leaning his forehead against hers. "We can care about him just as we care about Lily and Peter. It's…It's no different."

"He isn't here," Lexie replies, her lip trembling as her voice breaks on the obvious difference. "He'll never…" She pauses, biting her lip and blinking, but she continues to hold his gaze. "He'll never be here."

"He is," Mark argues softly, looking into her eyes. "We'll always carry him with us, just like you said."

She nods absentmindedly, looking down before meeting his gaze. She remembers back to all the heartbreak and the pain…All the fights and the arguments…But in the end, it was all worth it wasn't it? If they'd simply broken up and gone their separate ways when they'd lost the baby, neither Mark nor Lexie would be where they were today.

…

Mark's been pacing across the small groom's room for the last ten minutes. Derek had left a little while ago to sort through something with the minister, leaving Mark completely alone. Usually, that wouldn't be a problem…But today…Today is different. Today I'm getting married, he thinks, feeling exhilarated and terrified at the same time. The shrill ring of his cell phone makes him jump, clearing his mind. Mark's hand shoots to his pocket, noticing the name on the outside.

"Hey, Grey," he answers on the first ring, still pacing. "What's up?"

"We need you to come down here," Meredith replies without preamble, her voice a whisper.

Mark's heart starts hammering, remembering the last time he'd been called like this. He knows Lexie isn't pregnant, but there's still that voice in the back of his head asking 'What if she didn't tell you? What if it happened again?' He feels his blood turn to ice at the thought.

"Me? Why? What happened? Is Lexie—"

Meredith shakes her head, her mind flashing back to that awful day in April. "No, no, it's nothing like that," she assures him quickly.

"Well, what is it?"

"Will you just come down here? We tried, but...I don't think she wants to talk to anyone but you."

"I'll be there in a second," Mark replies, already out the door.

…

He reaches the bridal suite a minute later, his eyes fly nervously from Meredith's to Arizona's to Molly's, wondering what this is all about. No one speaks, though, so he opens the large wooden doors quietly and walks in. He glances around, looking for his fiancée, but he gets pulled aside by his best "man" first.

"Callie, what happened?" Mark whispers, still looking around for her.

"It's nothing huge," Callie assures him quickly. "She—she's just worried. And I thought she'd listen to you a lot more than she'd listen to me. Or Meredith or Molly. Or Arizona," Callie adds as an afterthought.

Mark nods, his eyes still scanning the room.

"She's over there," Callie directs, pointing to a small room off of the main suite. "I'll be outside," she tells him quietly. Mark nods again, making his way across the room. He stops in the doorway of the small room, his breath actually escaping him when he sees how beautiful she looks. Though her back is to him, the paneled mirror in front of her allows him to see the dress—and her—from almost every angle. The long, flowing white dress contrasts her dark hair perfectly, lightening her eyes and complementing her pale skin wonderfully. "You look…" He starts, trailing off before finding the right word.

"Oh, stop it," Lexie mutters, turning to see him loitering in the doorframe.

"I…What?"

"You don't need to act all taken aback for my sake," she answers, looking down, fiddling with her fingers. He smiles faintly at this, walking up to her. "It's not about that."

"It's not for your sake, Lex. You really do look…just…phenomenal."

She looks over at him, regarding his face. When she notices that he's telling the truth her expression turns almost shy, a small smile finding its way to her lips. "You think so?"

He grins, walking into the room and pulling up a nearby chair to sit beside her. "Of course I do." He grins. "You'd look better without the dress, though." She laughs at this before looking away, attempting to sniff her tears and fears away. He looks over to her, taking her hand gently. "What's this about, then? If it's not the dress?"

"I just…" Lexie looks down at their intertwined hands, willing all of her insecurities about their future to go away. Of course, it's not that easy. It's never that easy. She bites her lip and raises her eyes to him, blinking as a few tears fall gently.

"What if I can't get pregnant?" She asks, her voice barely audible, finally voicing the worry that's been plaguing her for the past six months. Mark's eyes widen slightly; he hadn't seen this coming—not today, at least.

"Lexie, sweetheart…"

"What if…What if that was our one chance? What if we can't ever have a baby again? What…What do we do then, Mark?" Her eyes bore into his, pain and fear evident within their brown orbs. Mark lifts his hand to caress her cheek gently.

"It wasn't our last chance," he replies softly. "We'll have kids, we'll be fine."

Lexie looks down, shaking her head. "You don't know that," she murmurs. "And you should know better than to try and placate me with generalizations," she grumbles. He smiles slightly at this; of course something she'd worry about wouldn't be an easy fix.

"I do know better," he tells her as her eyes find his face again. "But I also know that we'll be okay, with or without kids. That's not a generalization, it's just the truth." He sighs, letting the air escape slowly from between his lips. "And, if by some stroke of bad luck, that was the only baby we could make, then we'll find other ways to be happy. We can be parents or we cannot be parents. Whatever you want to do, Lex, I'll do. We can adopt, we can get a surrogate, we can just be married and do nothing…" He brushes away her tears gently, holding her gaze. "We can do whatever you want."

Lexie gives him a watery smile, laying a hand on top of his and laughing after a moment. She lifts her other hand to wipe her eyes fully. "God, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm freaking out so much."

"I do," he remarks, glancing at her. She tilts her head, waiting for an answer. "We're getting married today."

She laughs, leaning forward to kiss him softly. "Yes, we are."

He studies her as she pulls back, his expression somber.

"What?" She asks, lifting hand to her hair, thinking something's come loose.

"You're sure?" Mark asks, his tone barely audible, his icy-blue eyes piercing hers. "About…me?" Her eyes widen, piecing together his words and behavior. She uses a hand to tilt his head towards her.

"Hey. Of course I'm sure. I love you. I want to marry you. I am going to marry you." She smiles nervously at him, her voice rising a bit with anxiety. "We're in a damn church dressed in white and black for god's sake, you can't back out now," she jokes half-heartedly, but there's a desperate edge to her tone that she can't help to conceal. He raises his eyes to hers, seeing that anxiousness brewing just beneath her quiet surface.

"Sorry," he mutters, leaning forward to kiss her quickly. "I didn't mean to freak you out either. I just wanted to make sure that you're…on board with this." She looks at him. "Cause I sure as hell am," he finishes with a chuckle, doing his best to ease the tension.

"Well, good," Lexie replies. She sits back, pushing him away a bit. "Now, go. You're not supposed to be in here, and I'm sure Derek's running around everywhere looking for you."

Mark gets to his feet. "I hope he hasn't sent out the coast guard yet," he replies, looking genuinely put-down. "If he's supervising the search, he'll never be back in time."

"Go," Lexie laughs.

"Fine," Mark grumbles, smirking at her. "Bye."

"Bye," she calls, watching him walk across the suite and open the wide wooden doors to leave.

…

"We'll always carry him with us, just like you said," Mark repeats, catching her eye. Lexie holds his ocean-blue gaze for a minute before speaking.

"I guess…I guess we will," Lexie agrees quietly, hugging him tightly again as her mind drifts back in time, in tandem with his. Looking back, they both realize losing Michael was what made them stronger—as a couple and eventually as a family. It's what made them able to survive through marriage and two other panic-filled pregnancies. It's the one thing that was never far from their minds, no matter how much time had passed.

Lexie knew just as well as Mark did that she would never forget the baby they'd lost…

And she wasn't sure she wanted to, not anymore.

…

Saying things we haven't for a while, a while yeah,

We're smiling but we're close to tears, even after all these years.

—"For the First Time" by The Script

…

…

Life is beautiful

We love until we die

When you run into my arms,

We steal a perfect moment.

Let the monsters see you smile,

Let them see you smiling.

Do I hold you too tightly?

When will the hurt kick in?

Life is beautiful, but it's complicated;

We barely make it.

We don't need to understand.

There are miracles, miracles.

Yeah, life is beautiful.

Our hearts, they beat and break.

When you run away from harm,

Will you run back into my arms?

Like you did when you were young;

Will you come back to me?

And I will hold you tightly

When the hurting kicks in.

Stand…

where you are.

We let all these moments…

pass us by.

It's amazing, where I'm standing,

There's a lot that we can give.

This is ours, just for a moment.

There's a love that we can give.

—"Life is Beautiful" by Vega4

the end.

Author's Note: The name Michael comes from Nikita. The name Peter comes from Fringe, as does the title of the story (For those of you who might watch it; it's from when Walter says, "You can't imagine what it's like…to lose a child." It fit pretty well; I used it as a prompt for this fic). And the name Lily I just kind of grabbed out of thin air.

The song lyrics added to the last two chapters I put there because I thought they perfectly summed up the story. Plus, I was listening to them while I wrote this and they helped me along. :) If the lyrics read weird (if you haven't heard the songs), they make a lot more sense if you listen to them. Plus, they're awesome songs. :)

So,

I hope you're satisfied with the ending and the epilogue (sometimes they can be cheesy, I tried not to do that, but I'm not sure how well it worked…). As always, thank you for reading andplease review and tell me what you think!

Thank you so much to all of you who've stuck with me since the beginning; it means a lot. :)