take apart your head
take apart your head
grey's anatomy: lexie/mark
Lexie's point of view from the shooting on. Spoilers for all aired episodes.
Take me, take me back to your bed
I love you so much that it hurts my head
Said, I don't mind you under my skin
I let the bad parts in, the bad parts in
(brand new - the storm is coming)
There's a memorial service at the hospital on a Thursday, nearly three months after the shooting, one week after her so-called break down, and five days following her release from the psychiatric ward.
She doesn't go. There's bound to be a huge crowd of people in the chilly autumn weather, huddled around the outside of the hospital, paying homage to people who deserved much more than the hell they received by simply showing up to work that day.
Selfishly, she knows Alex will be there and Mark too, and she's too exhausted to deal with either. Then there's April and Jackson who have practically taken over the house since their friends died. For once, the house is peaceful and calm, and she can relax completely, instead of paying her respects in an awkward social setting, and this makes her a terrible person.
She knows all of these things.
She sits on the floor of the laundry room, watching as her blood-soaked scrubs spin around and around. The dye in her hair burns her scalp, but she continues to sit quietly, finding the circular motion comforting.
April bursts into tears spontaneously while doing commonplace things such as pouring her cereal or reading the newspaper. Jackson drinks himself into a stupor, making inappropriate jokes and comments at the worst times. Meredith concentrates on her friends, not Derek or Lexie, and Derek disappears at odd hours, and the police are almost always involved.
Alex retreats. This kills her the most, watching him disappear into himself, fine on the surface but bubbling over inside. She's not sure when she lost the right to say anything to him, or if she ever had it in the first place, but they're different now, and she learns to hold her tongue.
Lexie sits on the laundry room floor and tries to erase the blood from that day, while her hair slowly darkens. She struggles to remember who she really is.
It happens on one of her first days back, while Mark follows her around like she's insane and should never be left alone. It's enough to make her start slamming equipment around. Maybe she is crazy and she should just prove him right already. At the very least it would get him off her back.
He's listing all of the reasons why it's okay for her to take it slow and ease her way back into her work, and she's imagining a thousand different creative ways to make him shut up. Most are violent.
She makes a show of rolling her eyes as they turn towards the surgical wing, Mark's freaking arm around her waist as if she can't even walk on her own.
She's about to snap at him and probably get herself fired or lose the only one friend she feels she has most days, but her feet dig into the ground and refuse to move.
It takes a minute for Mark to realize she's stopped walking. It takes her longer to understand where she is and where Mark's standing.
"Lexie?"
Her eyes widen.
There's a cold metal barrel staring back at her and in one swift breath she caves in and waits for the pain to come.
"Lex?"
She shakes the memory and her hands fall limp at her side. "I...I left the charts on the counter," she explains quickly. Mark nods and starts to follow her back.
She glances over her shoulder at the spot she stood in months before.
She's still waiting for the pain to stop.
Her keys fall to the floor as she struggles to close the front door.
Alex snickers from his perch next to Avery on the couch. She detects the faint sounds of the xbox in the background and inhales sharply.
"Screw you," she mutters as she picks up her keys and disappears into the kitchen.
Alex follows her, reaching into the refrigerator for another beer. Lexie waits until he finishes and then reopens the door and grabs one for herself.
Alex rolls his eyes. "Must be the hair," he mutters.
Lexie's eyes narrow at him. "Excuse me?" she snaps.
"This bitchy attitude of yours," he explains. "Must. Be. The. Hair."
"Seriously, go to hell," Lexie spits, nails digging under the label on the bottle in her hand.
Alex laughs haughtily. "So what, is it a boyfriend thing? You leave Mark, your hair turns blonde. We break up your hair's brown again. Aren't you going to run out of colors soon?"
Her bottle slams onto the counter. "No, Alex, it's not a boyfriend thing. And who are we kidding? We were never really together and we certainly didn't ever break up, unless you count throwing all of my stuff into the hallway as a new, interesting way to leave someone. And as for my hair, maybe I dyed it to make sure you'd never confuse me with Izzie again."
He stares at her too long, struggling to take in the full weight of her words.
She sighs in frustration, grabbing her beer and storming down the hallway. "Have a great fucking night," she snaps, pushing past a wide-eyed April as she makes a beeline for the attic door.
"I don't see it," she hears April remark a few seconds later. "Everyone's always saying she's so nice."
"Shut up," she hears Alex mutter and for some reason, this makes her smile.
Alex sets his beer down on the floor and digs his palms into the rough wood as he leans back from his seat on her top step.
Lexie stares at him numbly as her back presses into her headboard. She tugs down the hem of the Columbia University shirt she's wearing and tries to forget where it came from (who it came from).
"I'm sorry," Alex manages, four months later, shrugging lightly as if he merely ate all of her ice cream or something silly and fixable like that.
Lexie laughs at how little the words mean now.
Still, they fall asleep together that night, Lexie's head resting on his chest, the same chest that was shot and doused in blood four months ago. His fingers run up and down her arm as she digs herself closer into the familiar smell of his tee shirt.
They don't have sex and neither one remains fooled. They're not together anymore and they aren't trying to be.
Lexie doesn't love Alex Karev and Alex is in no condition to love anybody. The truth is scary, but necessary, and somehow, it hurts in a good way.
There's a ring in Alex's top drawer. She used to pretend it didn't exist, except it did, and it glared at her whenever she summoned the courage to look at it. It served as a reminder of who he was, and she knew exactly why he didn't get rid of it.
She doesn't blame him.
There's a ring in Mark's top drawer and she doesn't know it exists at all. There's an ill-timed speech and her jaw on the floor and words like marriage and love, none of which make sense to her. There are memories flooding her brain, but in none of them do she and Mark ever say "I love you" and it's cheap, really, how easily and thoughtlessly he blurts it out, in the hospital, at one a.m.
She presses her knees into her chest, her bare legs rubbing against the fraying fabric of the Columbia tee shirt she's taken to sleeping in. Her nails pick at the collar aimlessly.
"Do you want to marry me or get married?" she whispers slowly. The fact she's not sure that Mark wouldn't understand the difference is what terrifies her.
It isn't as if she's unaware of what she's saying to him. It's over before it's really started, and none of what she's been planning on saying for months comes out. Nonetheless, it's true, he's smothering her and preventing her from doing her job. As a surgeon she tries not to care whether this need to protect her comes out of love, and she's trying to only think like a surgeon these days. It's the best way to cope.
There's the taste of regret in her mouth as he mutters, "You got it," in an effortless and easy way that she knows he's faking and she wants to explain, but he'll tell her he loves her again and she can not handle that right now.
She's not looking for someone to rescue her. That's not what she needs.
There are still unresolved questions and issues and yes Sloane's gone, but his daughter had never been the problem, not really. He'd forgotten about her, counted her in without asking her, and how could he overlook the fact that it took every ounce of strength she had to move in with him. Now, barely six months later he was skipping all the steps and asking, no, telling her she was going to be a grandmother?
Yes, she ran, and maybe she shouldn't have deserted him, but marriage was a scary enough though, let alone kids and kids' kids. She left and he hated her for it, and none of the bad blood between them disappeared. At least, not for her.
She remembers the months of silence and murderous looks and how he would leave the lunch table if she sat down with him, even with other people there. She recalls him switching around surgeries to avoid working with her, and taking the stairs if she happened to step onto the elevator. He had tried to erase her and she can't just forget that.
So when he looks up at her and she feels this twinge of regret, she holds tight to these memories, to who he can be, to how he treated her when she needed him the most. She thinks of Addison and Teddy and the damn dozens of nameless nurses in various supply closets, and it's this that gives her the strength to turn and walk away.
She makes a phone call from the swing outside on Meredith's porch. Her sister sounds farther away than ever before.
"Hey," she says, resisting the urge to cry, and she doesn't understand where these tears are coming from.
"Hey yourself," Molly remarks, and the distinct laughs of a five year old girl can be heard in the background. "Sorry, Laura was helping me make dinner."
Lexie smiles. "There are child labor laws, you know."
Molly snickers. "Listen, it's great to hear from you and everything, but it's not really a good time. Eric just got in and we're going to be eating soon and..."
"Oh, no, of course. That's fine," Lexie nods, tears brimming.
Molly sighs. "It's just that we don't see him that often and..."
"No, no, I understand, Lexie insists, covering the phone receiver to keep the sound of her crying a secret.
"Okay," Molly remarks quietly. "Lex, are you okay?"
Lexie nods and it takes a minute before she realizes her sister can't see her. She feels so far from her family and from the person she once had been.
"Is...is dad okay?"
Lexie swallows the lies she fed to Molly through their father's alcohol abuse. "Yeah, he's great," she insists.
"Oh...okay. And you? You're good? Still crushing on that guy? Uh, Greg? Or George, was it?"
Lexie shuts her eyes. She tries not to think of how long it's been since their last conversation. She remembers Molly running into her room at three a.m. on a school night because Jonathon Walters had just broke up with her. She recalls stroking her sister's hair until she fell asleep and promising her everything would be all right.
She swallows the lump rising in her throat. "I was just calling because it's mom's birthday and I...listen, have a good dinner."
She doesn't wait for a reply before hanging up and letting the tears fall freely. It doesn't take long to realize that she only ever really had one person in Seattle to begin with.
She resists the urge to make another virgin joke and excuses herself from the table. She means to refill her beer, but she finds herself putting the empty bottle on the bar and digging through her purse for her phone. He's still at the top of her speed dial and she's not sure whether she's relieved or upset when he doesn't answer.
She's halfway home when she turns the car around and floors it to his apartment. There isn't time for her to think this through and she doesn't want to anymore. Problems can be fixed, even ones as monumental as theirs. What's important, she thinks, is how she feels about him and how he makes her feel. She's tired of feeling alone, not just romantically, but completely. She needs to be able to talk to him again and she needs to resolve this one way or another.
There's the familiar urge to show up with panties and a toothbrush, except neither of these items are easily accessible at the moment. She's still smiling about this inside joke as the elevator opens. She rushes to check her make up and her smile spreads as she rounds the corner.
It's only then that it hits her, the fact that she's more alone than she realized. It isn't until she sees Mark's hand roam up Derek's sister's shirt that she knows she loves him. It's not until the door slams shut loudly, the sound echoing in her ears that she understands how much she misses him.
It's why she finds herself in Alex's room that night, commanding him to shut up as she undresses and kissing him hard on the mouth as he starts to protest.
"This isn't about you," she snaps bitterly as he tries to argue once more, and it's these four words that cause him to push her roughly up against the wall and fuck her loudly while April and Jackson pretend not to listen.
She's in her own bed an hour later and her phone vibrates loudly across the night stand. Mark's voice is sad and she can hear the regret clearly, but she's not really listening anymore. The more she tries to cling to her sense of self, the less she feels like Lexie.
"Just talk to me," he begs, except she can't, because she just sees Amelia's legs around his waist every time she closes her eyes.
She's crying and she doesn't try to hide it, because she's still royally pissed that she slept with Alex again and even more angry that everyone in the house knows it.
Her voice trembles. "It's too late," she says, and she never clarifies whether it's because of her or him. She's never really been able to tell whose fault this whole mess is.
"Lexie, what are you talking about?" he asks so sincerely, that she almost wants to believe he's sitting at home in his sweatpants watching the game or something innocent like that.
Her fingers clamp tightly around the phone. "Just make sure she gets to the airport on time. Derek said she had an early surgery tomorrow."
Her thumb slides over the red button and the call ends.
She takes most of her resentment out on April the following day, and while it's not fully misplaced, she feels bad enough to apologize. She's short with Alex and snaps at him when he asks for her help, but this she doesn't feel badly about. She's still mad at him for something she's unable to put her finger on.
Meredith smiles at her as she enters the kitchen. Lexie reaches for a cereal box and stops in mid-reach. "You were really there?" she asks curiously.
She doesn't elaborate and Meredith doesn't need to ask her to.
"Yup," Meredith says casually, handing Lexie the box she already forgot about. "If you don't believe me, ask Mark...that is, if you too are talking this week."
Lexie rolls her eyes and presses her hands on the back of the counter top, leaning back idly. "I believe you," she says firmly.
Meredith raises an eyebrow. "You know, Mark was there too. Yelling at nurses to bring you more pillows and screaming at the psychologist. He was...scared."
Lexie bites her a small chunk of her nails and sighs. "He left me, you know," she insists futilely. "Everyone just expects me to forget about that and just forgive him, but..." she cuts off quickly, head falling downward.
Meredith pauses, catching the irony quickly. "Lexie, you left him," she clarifies.
She inhales deeply, rolling her head back. She's tired of the same old internal argument, and finally saying the words out loud don't help. She only feels more tired.
Meredith waits.
"It's not...he started making all these decisions, you know? And he just included me in all of these huge, monumental, life-changing decisions and he never even asked me. It was all about him, Sloane, and the baby, and I know that she's his daughter and I know he wanted to do the right thing but...I just couldn't take it anymore."
Her sister purses her lips and looks up slowly. "But you still left him," she insists. "You could have stayed and talked it through, but you didn't Lexie. You left him."
Lexie's teeth gnash at her next nail.
"And then you slept with Alex," Meredith reminds her.
She tastes blood and winces at the pain.
"He slept with Addison. Why is this whole thing my fault? It was both of us. It wasn't all me."
Meredith smiles. "Exactly."
Lexie's forehead wrinkles in confusion.
"You both screwed up and you both made mistakes and you both had your own ways of leaving each other," Meredith explains. "But he loves you and once he realized that, he made sure you knew."
Lexie laughs sardonically. "People just died. Cristina's still half-terrified of an ER, Alex says he's fine but only just started taking the elevator again. Derek and Owen almost died, you lost a baby, I may have lost my mind, and he thinks that now is a great time to decide he wants me back? I have so many other things to worry about right now."
Meredith raises an eyebrow. "Lexie, if you didn't care so much, Mark wouldn't be the subject of every conversation you start."
Lexie stands speechless and surprised.
Meredith grabs her glass of wine and turns to leave. "I was wrong," she calls back. "Your heart obviously isn't in your vagina."
Lexie chuckles slightly but the point doesn't go unmade.
There are three ways the night almost goes:
1.
She almost decides to stay home for the night, with a six pack of beer and a surprise visit from Alex as she watches some chick flick on the couch and they almost eat popcorn and laugh through the awkwardness.
She almost gets tired around one and leans her head on his shoulder and he almost pushes her hair out of her face and she almost wonders why she's putting herself through this again.
They almost sleep together and she almost wakes up naked and ashamed again, eyes glaring at the damn top drawer and the ring she thinks about every time she's with him. She almost wishes she had a cigarette and sneaks up to the attic where she begins another night of crying and self-loathing.
2.
She almost goes to the stupid party at Emerald City Bar with Meredith and Derek, and clings to April, because as annoying as the girl is, she talks a lot and is able to keep her mind off of Mark. She almost downs shots of tequila with her sister and Cristina and pretends the three of them are really good friends while forcing herself not to look over at the lone barstool that Callie visits every five minutes or so.
She almost has to have April drive her home and carry her up to bed, and they laugh about some silly joke Jackson made and in the morning April makes her some homemade hangover cure that tastes like garbage and smells like feet.
3.
She almost tags along with Jackson, a safety net of sorts, and teases him as he makes a fool of himself in front of Teddy and challenges him to a beer drinking contest, because she needs to get drunk fast and she needs to keep talking to somebody.
He almost spits beer out in her face when she tells a dirty joke she can't remember the details of hours later, and Joe almost kicks them out at two thirty, insisting they take a cab home.
She almost lets Jackson make out with her in the backseat, because it's late and god knows she's lonely, and she almost offers him her bed for the night instead of his usual spot on the couch. She almost rips the seam of his collar as she tears his shirt off and closes her eyes tightly as he fucks her, because even while intoxicated she senses the twisted irony of what she's doing.
Mistakes come in circles and she's too scared to break old habits, so she clings to them bitterly, because it's enough to have a warm body in her bed for one night.
She almost vomits in her sister's bathroom and Meredith holds her hair and doesn't judge her.
Instead:
She drives herself to Joe's and sits down next to Meredith reluctantly. She glares at the clock and wonders how soon she can leave without being thought of as rude, assuming Cristina Yang even thinks things like this.
She's relieved when she finishes her beer and uses this as an excuse to stand up. She slips off to the bar to get a refill and tries to keep her eyes focused straight ahead of her. Her elbow brushes against Mark's arm as she waits and the heat rises in her cheeks when she feels his eyes turn to her.
"Come here often?"
It's lame and pathetic but it makes her laugh and she takes the bait, sitting down next to him.
"Every once and a while," she says casually.
Mark smirks as Joe hands her a fresh beer.
"What about you?" she ventures, bringing the bottle to her lips.
He sighs deeply and crosses his arms, facing her. "Well, I kind of messed up with this girl," he begins slowly. "So, yeah, I've been here a lot."
Lexie nods. "I know the feeling," she says slowly. "So, what happened? Between you and this girl?"
"I don't know," he admits quietly. "One minute things were great and the next..."
"They just fell apart," Lexie finishes.
He nods. "I mean, I was kind of a jerk. I rushed her to move in with me, tried to push her into my daughter's life too quickly, and then I sort of lost it when I found out she slept with someone else, even though I did the same thing."
Lexie holds her breath.
"Then I told her I loved her and instead of waiting for her to be ready, I slept with her pseudo post-it-in-law-sister."
Lexie can't suppress her grin. "Wow," she remarks, eyes widening. "There's really no coming back from that, is there?"
Mark winces. "Yeah, it was pretty bad."
"I don't know about that," Lexie counters. "My story's worse."
"Doubt it," Mark argues.
"I don't know..."
Mark raises his scotch glass. "Let's hear it."
"Well, I was kind of a nightmare when my boyfriend tried to help his daughter out. He was being sweet and trying to be a good dad, and I sort of lost it."
"Still not worse," Mark teases.
Lexie laughs. "It's getting there," she insists. "So then he literally saved my boyfriend...exboyfriend's life, and I never even thanked him. He was the only person who ever noticed when I wasn't myself and I just...I cut him out of my life because I was scared...or confused and I...I told him to leave me alone and when he did, I realized just how much I didn't want him to leave me alone."
Mark sets his glass down on the ledge of the bar. "So you think you lost him?"
Lexie shrugs. "I don't know. What do you think?"
"Well, I think you're right. Your story's much worse than mine."
"Hey," Lexie remarks in offense, breaking character to slap him playfully on the arm.
"Only kidding," he insists quickly, grinning at her.
"Lexie," Meredith calls, waving her over. "We're all going back to Cristina's house. Are coming?"
Lexie pauses, considering the out her sister's giving her. Mark takes her empty beer bottle and holds it in his hand like a promise.
"Or," Mark offers, "You could stay here and I'll buy you another drink Ms...?"
"Grey," Lexie finishes, slipping back into character. "Lexie Grey."
"Mark Sloane," he remarks, holding his hand out. "Dr. Mark Sloane."
"Lexie?" Meredith questions again.
Lexie rolls his eyes as she shakes his hand. "You just added that doctor bit to impress me," she taunts.
Mark grins. "Did it work?"
Lexie yawns playfully. "Oh, I don't know. You know, I can recite the entire periodic table from memory."
Mark's face softens and laughter tugs at the corner of his lips. "That's so weird. I happen to have a huge thing for girls who recite the periodic table."
Lexie shrugs. "Yeah, you seemed like the type," she jokes.
"Two seconds and I'm leaving you," Meredith warns.
Lexie glances down at her sister then turns back to Mark, still holding her empty beer bottle as if it's some sort of symbol. She opens her mouth to speak, but none of the words running through her mind seem to fit.
Mark tilts his head. "So what do you say Little Grey?"
She shakes her head at her sister and crosses her legs as she turns back to the bar, elbows digging into the polished wood of the counter top.
"I suppose one drink wouldn't kill me," she replies, leaning in closely. "But I fell I have to warn you; I'm pretty dangerous. I once broke a guy's penis."
Mark laughs into his beer. Lexie smiles back.
He hands her her beer and their hands touch, his fingers lingering longer than they ought to.
She lets it happen.
grey's anatomy: lexie/mark
Lexie's point of view from the shooting on. Spoilers for all aired episodes.
Take me, take me back to your bed
I love you so much that it hurts my head
Said, I don't mind you under my skin
I let the bad parts in, the bad parts in
(brand new - the storm is coming)
There's a memorial service at the hospital on a Thursday, nearly three months after the shooting, one week after her so-called break down, and five days following her release from the psychiatric ward.
She doesn't go. There's bound to be a huge crowd of people in the chilly autumn weather, huddled around the outside of the hospital, paying homage to people who deserved much more than the hell they received by simply showing up to work that day.
Selfishly, she knows Alex will be there and Mark too, and she's too exhausted to deal with either. Then there's April and Jackson who have practically taken over the house since their friends died. For once, the house is peaceful and calm, and she can relax completely, instead of paying her respects in an awkward social setting, and this makes her a terrible person.
She knows all of these things.
She sits on the floor of the laundry room, watching as her blood-soaked scrubs spin around and around. The dye in her hair burns her scalp, but she continues to sit quietly, finding the circular motion comforting.
April bursts into tears spontaneously while doing commonplace things such as pouring her cereal or reading the newspaper. Jackson drinks himself into a stupor, making inappropriate jokes and comments at the worst times. Meredith concentrates on her friends, not Derek or Lexie, and Derek disappears at odd hours, and the police are almost always involved.
Alex retreats. This kills her the most, watching him disappear into himself, fine on the surface but bubbling over inside. She's not sure when she lost the right to say anything to him, or if she ever had it in the first place, but they're different now, and she learns to hold her tongue.
Lexie sits on the laundry room floor and tries to erase the blood from that day, while her hair slowly darkens. She struggles to remember who she really is.
It happens on one of her first days back, while Mark follows her around like she's insane and should never be left alone. It's enough to make her start slamming equipment around. Maybe she is crazy and she should just prove him right already. At the very least it would get him off her back.
He's listing all of the reasons why it's okay for her to take it slow and ease her way back into her work, and she's imagining a thousand different creative ways to make him shut up. Most are violent.
She makes a show of rolling her eyes as they turn towards the surgical wing, Mark's freaking arm around her waist as if she can't even walk on her own.
She's about to snap at him and probably get herself fired or lose the only one friend she feels she has most days, but her feet dig into the ground and refuse to move.
It takes a minute for Mark to realize she's stopped walking. It takes her longer to understand where she is and where Mark's standing.
"Lexie?"
Her eyes widen.
There's a cold metal barrel staring back at her and in one swift breath she caves in and waits for the pain to come.
"Lex?"
She shakes the memory and her hands fall limp at her side. "I...I left the charts on the counter," she explains quickly. Mark nods and starts to follow her back.
She glances over her shoulder at the spot she stood in months before.
She's still waiting for the pain to stop.
Her keys fall to the floor as she struggles to close the front door.
Alex snickers from his perch next to Avery on the couch. She detects the faint sounds of the xbox in the background and inhales sharply.
"Screw you," she mutters as she picks up her keys and disappears into the kitchen.
Alex follows her, reaching into the refrigerator for another beer. Lexie waits until he finishes and then reopens the door and grabs one for herself.
Alex rolls his eyes. "Must be the hair," he mutters.
Lexie's eyes narrow at him. "Excuse me?" she snaps.
"This bitchy attitude of yours," he explains. "Must. Be. The. Hair."
"Seriously, go to hell," Lexie spits, nails digging under the label on the bottle in her hand.
Alex laughs haughtily. "So what, is it a boyfriend thing? You leave Mark, your hair turns blonde. We break up your hair's brown again. Aren't you going to run out of colors soon?"
Her bottle slams onto the counter. "No, Alex, it's not a boyfriend thing. And who are we kidding? We were never really together and we certainly didn't ever break up, unless you count throwing all of my stuff into the hallway as a new, interesting way to leave someone. And as for my hair, maybe I dyed it to make sure you'd never confuse me with Izzie again."
He stares at her too long, struggling to take in the full weight of her words.
She sighs in frustration, grabbing her beer and storming down the hallway. "Have a great fucking night," she snaps, pushing past a wide-eyed April as she makes a beeline for the attic door.
"I don't see it," she hears April remark a few seconds later. "Everyone's always saying she's so nice."
"Shut up," she hears Alex mutter and for some reason, this makes her smile.
Alex sets his beer down on the floor and digs his palms into the rough wood as he leans back from his seat on her top step.
Lexie stares at him numbly as her back presses into her headboard. She tugs down the hem of the Columbia University shirt she's wearing and tries to forget where it came from (who it came from).
"I'm sorry," Alex manages, four months later, shrugging lightly as if he merely ate all of her ice cream or something silly and fixable like that.
Lexie laughs at how little the words mean now.
Still, they fall asleep together that night, Lexie's head resting on his chest, the same chest that was shot and doused in blood four months ago. His fingers run up and down her arm as she digs herself closer into the familiar smell of his tee shirt.
They don't have sex and neither one remains fooled. They're not together anymore and they aren't trying to be.
Lexie doesn't love Alex Karev and Alex is in no condition to love anybody. The truth is scary, but necessary, and somehow, it hurts in a good way.
There's a ring in Alex's top drawer. She used to pretend it didn't exist, except it did, and it glared at her whenever she summoned the courage to look at it. It served as a reminder of who he was, and she knew exactly why he didn't get rid of it.
She doesn't blame him.
There's a ring in Mark's top drawer and she doesn't know it exists at all. There's an ill-timed speech and her jaw on the floor and words like marriage and love, none of which make sense to her. There are memories flooding her brain, but in none of them do she and Mark ever say "I love you" and it's cheap, really, how easily and thoughtlessly he blurts it out, in the hospital, at one a.m.
She presses her knees into her chest, her bare legs rubbing against the fraying fabric of the Columbia tee shirt she's taken to sleeping in. Her nails pick at the collar aimlessly.
"Do you want to marry me or get married?" she whispers slowly. The fact she's not sure that Mark wouldn't understand the difference is what terrifies her.
It isn't as if she's unaware of what she's saying to him. It's over before it's really started, and none of what she's been planning on saying for months comes out. Nonetheless, it's true, he's smothering her and preventing her from doing her job. As a surgeon she tries not to care whether this need to protect her comes out of love, and she's trying to only think like a surgeon these days. It's the best way to cope.
There's the taste of regret in her mouth as he mutters, "You got it," in an effortless and easy way that she knows he's faking and she wants to explain, but he'll tell her he loves her again and she can not handle that right now.
She's not looking for someone to rescue her. That's not what she needs.
There are still unresolved questions and issues and yes Sloane's gone, but his daughter had never been the problem, not really. He'd forgotten about her, counted her in without asking her, and how could he overlook the fact that it took every ounce of strength she had to move in with him. Now, barely six months later he was skipping all the steps and asking, no, telling her she was going to be a grandmother?
Yes, she ran, and maybe she shouldn't have deserted him, but marriage was a scary enough though, let alone kids and kids' kids. She left and he hated her for it, and none of the bad blood between them disappeared. At least, not for her.
She remembers the months of silence and murderous looks and how he would leave the lunch table if she sat down with him, even with other people there. She recalls him switching around surgeries to avoid working with her, and taking the stairs if she happened to step onto the elevator. He had tried to erase her and she can't just forget that.
So when he looks up at her and she feels this twinge of regret, she holds tight to these memories, to who he can be, to how he treated her when she needed him the most. She thinks of Addison and Teddy and the damn dozens of nameless nurses in various supply closets, and it's this that gives her the strength to turn and walk away.
She makes a phone call from the swing outside on Meredith's porch. Her sister sounds farther away than ever before.
"Hey," she says, resisting the urge to cry, and she doesn't understand where these tears are coming from.
"Hey yourself," Molly remarks, and the distinct laughs of a five year old girl can be heard in the background. "Sorry, Laura was helping me make dinner."
Lexie smiles. "There are child labor laws, you know."
Molly snickers. "Listen, it's great to hear from you and everything, but it's not really a good time. Eric just got in and we're going to be eating soon and..."
"Oh, no, of course. That's fine," Lexie nods, tears brimming.
Molly sighs. "It's just that we don't see him that often and..."
"No, no, I understand, Lexie insists, covering the phone receiver to keep the sound of her crying a secret.
"Okay," Molly remarks quietly. "Lex, are you okay?"
Lexie nods and it takes a minute before she realizes her sister can't see her. She feels so far from her family and from the person she once had been.
"Is...is dad okay?"
Lexie swallows the lies she fed to Molly through their father's alcohol abuse. "Yeah, he's great," she insists.
"Oh...okay. And you? You're good? Still crushing on that guy? Uh, Greg? Or George, was it?"
Lexie shuts her eyes. She tries not to think of how long it's been since their last conversation. She remembers Molly running into her room at three a.m. on a school night because Jonathon Walters had just broke up with her. She recalls stroking her sister's hair until she fell asleep and promising her everything would be all right.
She swallows the lump rising in her throat. "I was just calling because it's mom's birthday and I...listen, have a good dinner."
She doesn't wait for a reply before hanging up and letting the tears fall freely. It doesn't take long to realize that she only ever really had one person in Seattle to begin with.
She resists the urge to make another virgin joke and excuses herself from the table. She means to refill her beer, but she finds herself putting the empty bottle on the bar and digging through her purse for her phone. He's still at the top of her speed dial and she's not sure whether she's relieved or upset when he doesn't answer.
She's halfway home when she turns the car around and floors it to his apartment. There isn't time for her to think this through and she doesn't want to anymore. Problems can be fixed, even ones as monumental as theirs. What's important, she thinks, is how she feels about him and how he makes her feel. She's tired of feeling alone, not just romantically, but completely. She needs to be able to talk to him again and she needs to resolve this one way or another.
There's the familiar urge to show up with panties and a toothbrush, except neither of these items are easily accessible at the moment. She's still smiling about this inside joke as the elevator opens. She rushes to check her make up and her smile spreads as she rounds the corner.
It's only then that it hits her, the fact that she's more alone than she realized. It isn't until she sees Mark's hand roam up Derek's sister's shirt that she knows she loves him. It's not until the door slams shut loudly, the sound echoing in her ears that she understands how much she misses him.
It's why she finds herself in Alex's room that night, commanding him to shut up as she undresses and kissing him hard on the mouth as he starts to protest.
"This isn't about you," she snaps bitterly as he tries to argue once more, and it's these four words that cause him to push her roughly up against the wall and fuck her loudly while April and Jackson pretend not to listen.
She's in her own bed an hour later and her phone vibrates loudly across the night stand. Mark's voice is sad and she can hear the regret clearly, but she's not really listening anymore. The more she tries to cling to her sense of self, the less she feels like Lexie.
"Just talk to me," he begs, except she can't, because she just sees Amelia's legs around his waist every time she closes her eyes.
She's crying and she doesn't try to hide it, because she's still royally pissed that she slept with Alex again and even more angry that everyone in the house knows it.
Her voice trembles. "It's too late," she says, and she never clarifies whether it's because of her or him. She's never really been able to tell whose fault this whole mess is.
"Lexie, what are you talking about?" he asks so sincerely, that she almost wants to believe he's sitting at home in his sweatpants watching the game or something innocent like that.
Her fingers clamp tightly around the phone. "Just make sure she gets to the airport on time. Derek said she had an early surgery tomorrow."
Her thumb slides over the red button and the call ends.
She takes most of her resentment out on April the following day, and while it's not fully misplaced, she feels bad enough to apologize. She's short with Alex and snaps at him when he asks for her help, but this she doesn't feel badly about. She's still mad at him for something she's unable to put her finger on.
Meredith smiles at her as she enters the kitchen. Lexie reaches for a cereal box and stops in mid-reach. "You were really there?" she asks curiously.
She doesn't elaborate and Meredith doesn't need to ask her to.
"Yup," Meredith says casually, handing Lexie the box she already forgot about. "If you don't believe me, ask Mark...that is, if you too are talking this week."
Lexie rolls her eyes and presses her hands on the back of the counter top, leaning back idly. "I believe you," she says firmly.
Meredith raises an eyebrow. "You know, Mark was there too. Yelling at nurses to bring you more pillows and screaming at the psychologist. He was...scared."
Lexie bites her a small chunk of her nails and sighs. "He left me, you know," she insists futilely. "Everyone just expects me to forget about that and just forgive him, but..." she cuts off quickly, head falling downward.
Meredith pauses, catching the irony quickly. "Lexie, you left him," she clarifies.
She inhales deeply, rolling her head back. She's tired of the same old internal argument, and finally saying the words out loud don't help. She only feels more tired.
Meredith waits.
"It's not...he started making all these decisions, you know? And he just included me in all of these huge, monumental, life-changing decisions and he never even asked me. It was all about him, Sloane, and the baby, and I know that she's his daughter and I know he wanted to do the right thing but...I just couldn't take it anymore."
Her sister purses her lips and looks up slowly. "But you still left him," she insists. "You could have stayed and talked it through, but you didn't Lexie. You left him."
Lexie's teeth gnash at her next nail.
"And then you slept with Alex," Meredith reminds her.
She tastes blood and winces at the pain.
"He slept with Addison. Why is this whole thing my fault? It was both of us. It wasn't all me."
Meredith smiles. "Exactly."
Lexie's forehead wrinkles in confusion.
"You both screwed up and you both made mistakes and you both had your own ways of leaving each other," Meredith explains. "But he loves you and once he realized that, he made sure you knew."
Lexie laughs sardonically. "People just died. Cristina's still half-terrified of an ER, Alex says he's fine but only just started taking the elevator again. Derek and Owen almost died, you lost a baby, I may have lost my mind, and he thinks that now is a great time to decide he wants me back? I have so many other things to worry about right now."
Meredith raises an eyebrow. "Lexie, if you didn't care so much, Mark wouldn't be the subject of every conversation you start."
Lexie stands speechless and surprised.
Meredith grabs her glass of wine and turns to leave. "I was wrong," she calls back. "Your heart obviously isn't in your vagina."
Lexie chuckles slightly but the point doesn't go unmade.
There are three ways the night almost goes:
1.
She almost decides to stay home for the night, with a six pack of beer and a surprise visit from Alex as she watches some chick flick on the couch and they almost eat popcorn and laugh through the awkwardness.
She almost gets tired around one and leans her head on his shoulder and he almost pushes her hair out of her face and she almost wonders why she's putting herself through this again.
They almost sleep together and she almost wakes up naked and ashamed again, eyes glaring at the damn top drawer and the ring she thinks about every time she's with him. She almost wishes she had a cigarette and sneaks up to the attic where she begins another night of crying and self-loathing.
2.
She almost goes to the stupid party at Emerald City Bar with Meredith and Derek, and clings to April, because as annoying as the girl is, she talks a lot and is able to keep her mind off of Mark. She almost downs shots of tequila with her sister and Cristina and pretends the three of them are really good friends while forcing herself not to look over at the lone barstool that Callie visits every five minutes or so.
She almost has to have April drive her home and carry her up to bed, and they laugh about some silly joke Jackson made and in the morning April makes her some homemade hangover cure that tastes like garbage and smells like feet.
3.
She almost tags along with Jackson, a safety net of sorts, and teases him as he makes a fool of himself in front of Teddy and challenges him to a beer drinking contest, because she needs to get drunk fast and she needs to keep talking to somebody.
He almost spits beer out in her face when she tells a dirty joke she can't remember the details of hours later, and Joe almost kicks them out at two thirty, insisting they take a cab home.
She almost lets Jackson make out with her in the backseat, because it's late and god knows she's lonely, and she almost offers him her bed for the night instead of his usual spot on the couch. She almost rips the seam of his collar as she tears his shirt off and closes her eyes tightly as he fucks her, because even while intoxicated she senses the twisted irony of what she's doing.
Mistakes come in circles and she's too scared to break old habits, so she clings to them bitterly, because it's enough to have a warm body in her bed for one night.
She almost vomits in her sister's bathroom and Meredith holds her hair and doesn't judge her.
Instead:
She drives herself to Joe's and sits down next to Meredith reluctantly. She glares at the clock and wonders how soon she can leave without being thought of as rude, assuming Cristina Yang even thinks things like this.
She's relieved when she finishes her beer and uses this as an excuse to stand up. She slips off to the bar to get a refill and tries to keep her eyes focused straight ahead of her. Her elbow brushes against Mark's arm as she waits and the heat rises in her cheeks when she feels his eyes turn to her.
"Come here often?"
It's lame and pathetic but it makes her laugh and she takes the bait, sitting down next to him.
"Every once and a while," she says casually.
Mark smirks as Joe hands her a fresh beer.
"What about you?" she ventures, bringing the bottle to her lips.
He sighs deeply and crosses his arms, facing her. "Well, I kind of messed up with this girl," he begins slowly. "So, yeah, I've been here a lot."
Lexie nods. "I know the feeling," she says slowly. "So, what happened? Between you and this girl?"
"I don't know," he admits quietly. "One minute things were great and the next..."
"They just fell apart," Lexie finishes.
He nods. "I mean, I was kind of a jerk. I rushed her to move in with me, tried to push her into my daughter's life too quickly, and then I sort of lost it when I found out she slept with someone else, even though I did the same thing."
Lexie holds her breath.
"Then I told her I loved her and instead of waiting for her to be ready, I slept with her pseudo post-it-in-law-sister."
Lexie can't suppress her grin. "Wow," she remarks, eyes widening. "There's really no coming back from that, is there?"
Mark winces. "Yeah, it was pretty bad."
"I don't know about that," Lexie counters. "My story's worse."
"Doubt it," Mark argues.
"I don't know..."
Mark raises his scotch glass. "Let's hear it."
"Well, I was kind of a nightmare when my boyfriend tried to help his daughter out. He was being sweet and trying to be a good dad, and I sort of lost it."
"Still not worse," Mark teases.
Lexie laughs. "It's getting there," she insists. "So then he literally saved my boyfriend...exboyfriend's life, and I never even thanked him. He was the only person who ever noticed when I wasn't myself and I just...I cut him out of my life because I was scared...or confused and I...I told him to leave me alone and when he did, I realized just how much I didn't want him to leave me alone."
Mark sets his glass down on the ledge of the bar. "So you think you lost him?"
Lexie shrugs. "I don't know. What do you think?"
"Well, I think you're right. Your story's much worse than mine."
"Hey," Lexie remarks in offense, breaking character to slap him playfully on the arm.
"Only kidding," he insists quickly, grinning at her.
"Lexie," Meredith calls, waving her over. "We're all going back to Cristina's house. Are coming?"
Lexie pauses, considering the out her sister's giving her. Mark takes her empty beer bottle and holds it in his hand like a promise.
"Or," Mark offers, "You could stay here and I'll buy you another drink Ms...?"
"Grey," Lexie finishes, slipping back into character. "Lexie Grey."
"Mark Sloane," he remarks, holding his hand out. "Dr. Mark Sloane."
"Lexie?" Meredith questions again.
Lexie rolls his eyes as she shakes his hand. "You just added that doctor bit to impress me," she taunts.
Mark grins. "Did it work?"
Lexie yawns playfully. "Oh, I don't know. You know, I can recite the entire periodic table from memory."
Mark's face softens and laughter tugs at the corner of his lips. "That's so weird. I happen to have a huge thing for girls who recite the periodic table."
Lexie shrugs. "Yeah, you seemed like the type," she jokes.
"Two seconds and I'm leaving you," Meredith warns.
Lexie glances down at her sister then turns back to Mark, still holding her empty beer bottle as if it's some sort of symbol. She opens her mouth to speak, but none of the words running through her mind seem to fit.
Mark tilts his head. "So what do you say Little Grey?"
She shakes her head at her sister and crosses her legs as she turns back to the bar, elbows digging into the polished wood of the counter top.
"I suppose one drink wouldn't kill me," she replies, leaning in closely. "But I fell I have to warn you; I'm pretty dangerous. I once broke a guy's penis."
Mark laughs into his beer. Lexie smiles back.
He hands her her beer and their hands touch, his fingers lingering longer than they ought to.
She lets it happen.