Outside These Walls 2/?
Title: Outside These Walls 2/?
Author: KelNY7
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mark/Lexie
Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy or any of its characters.
I have been trying to post this for three days...honestly! I'm still out of town, heading for home tomorrow, and things have been all kinds of crazy. So, I apologize to my faithful readers for not posting this much sooner. Thank you for sticking with me :) I'm also working on a post-ep for last week...inspiration finally struck...that is, if people are still interested in reading a post ep for last week. Additionally, a quick note: I know that there are journals that I am behind on reading and commenting on...my hope is to be able to catch up over the next couple days. Without further ado, Chapter Two:
Lexie isn’t sure what time it is, she only knows that she’s running late. Her alarm went off on time, but the room was spinning and she simply couldn’t move. Damn, when had she become such a lightweight? She shrugs and starts up the hallway, having already changed into her scrubs. Yang is standing by the nurse’s station, barking orders to Lexie’s fellow interns. “Ah, Grey, so nice of you to join us. For that, you’re going to be working on scut all day,” Christina says with an evil smile.
“I don’t think so,” Mark says, having come up behind Lexie. “Dr. Grey is going to be on my service until further notice. I assume you won’t have an objection to that, Dr. Yang.”
“Plastics? Fine, that’s even better than scut, she’ll be far away from me.”
Lexie rolls her eyes, wondering if there will ever be day that she won’t be the pariah of Seattle Grace. Although, things seem to be looking up considering the fact that Mark followed through on his promise to allow her on his service. “Thank you,” she says as Christina and the other interns head walk away to continue with rounds.
“I told you, I need a willing student. And I think you need a break from Dr. Yang’s hospitality,” Mark smirks.
“See, I told you, Meredith issued an edict. Beware of the curse of Lexie Grey,” Lexie teases.
“I’m not scared of being on Meredith’s bad side; besides, she and Shep are on the rocks. This is just solidarity.”
“Okay then, whatcha got?” Lexie asks.
“Ever seen an ankle reconstruction?”
The ankle reconstruction, although interesting and delicate, had been less interesting than Lexie expected. But, she’s sure that it’s only because Dr. Bailey’s son is fighting for his life in the next OR. Neither she nor Mark knew until after they were scrubbed in and when they step up to the OR board to erase their completed surgery, George approaches cautiously. “Bookcase fell on him. Bailey is a wreck,” George says to both of them.
Lexie hangs her head, sending up a silent prayer that today’s surgeries are more successful than yesterday’s. “These things happen, Dr. Grey,” Mark says, placing his hands on his hips and blowing out a deep breath.
“Excuse me?” Meredith asks, having just walked up to the board.
“Was a speaking to you?” Mark asks, giving her a menacing glare.
“You said my name.”
“If you’ll recall there is another doctor here with your name,” Mark says.
“I was here first,” Meredith says, staring Lexie down.
“But I’m here now. And I get that you don’t want to deal with me, but here I am,” Lexie retorts.
“Okay, ladies, now is not the time or the place to deal with this,” Mark says, dropping his voice lower. “Bailey’s baby is in surgery and he may die. Now is not the time.”
“Just be careful about throwing my name around, Dr. Sloan,” Meredith says. “I wouldn’t want someone to get confused.”
Lexie’s jaw drops open as she watches Meredith stalk away from the board, towards the nurse’s station. “I’m sorry, Dr. Sloan. That was unprofessional.” Lexie manages to say, her bottom lip quivering.
Mark nods slowly, his lips pursed, “You’re learning. You’re going to be okay,” he promises.
Mark changes out of his scrubs before his shift actually ends. He’s sure that he won’t be needed in another surgery, the OR is quiet and the ER hasn’t had a serious patient in the last four hours. It’s slow, which is usually the sign of something bad, but today, he’s positive that it’s just a sign that someone is taking mercy on this hospital. He’d stood shoulder to shoulder with most of the attendings waiting outside the OR doors for Bailey’s baby. Miranda Bailey, someone he considers to be a pillar of virtue and strength in a vile world, has all but broken down. He can’t imagine what she must be feeling, but he imagines that it must be something akin to what he felt after Addison aborted their baby. He remembers feeling empty and scared and helpless. And he remembers going over the day again and again wondering what he said to her that made her kill their child. But he never came up with a reason. And he’s pretty sure that’s what Bailey’s going through. Except it must be worse, because she actually got a chance to meet her child before this happened.
Mark walks up to the nurse’s station, seeing Lexie already standing there watching Bailey and her husband sit with their child. “Hey,” he says, dropping an elbow on the counter, “Post ops?”
“Done. I went ahead and changed too, I hope you don’t mind,” Lexie says.
“Nope. You had a good first day. How’s the baby?”
“Stable. Look at them,” she sighs, “they love him so much but they can’t see each other. They’re missing the forest for the trees.”
Mark nods, dropping his chin to his chest, “Sometimes a child can drive a couple apart.”
“That’s sad,” Lexie says, wondering why his eyes look so far away in this moment.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “You haven’t had a decent meal in days, have you? Want to get some food?”
Lexie’s smile returns, “Yeah, I’d love that. Where?”
“There’s a pizza joint a few blocks over.”
“Thin crust cheese, light sauce, with mushrooms, spinach, and tomatoes?”
“You can order anything you want. But I’m a man and I’ll be eating something less girly,” Mark smirks.
“Whatever,” she teases, pushing away from the station and walking out of the hospital.
They order two pizzas, Lexie’s eyes growing large when Mark orders double pepperoni on his meat and cheese pizza, “Seriously? Aren’t you a plastic surgeon? You’re supposed to be obsessed with looks and health and you’re eating the most unhealthy thing on the menu?”
“You can’t deny yourself something you really want. If you do, you’ll want it even more and you’ll never be satisfied. That goes for food and life in general,” Mark replies. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt that I run five miles a day.”
Lexie’s jaw drops, “Five miles a day? You’d have to be an athlete to have that kind of stamina.”
“I played football in high school and just never got out of the habit of working out. You seem to be health conscious, don’t you run or something?”
“Not really, I do a lot of running in the hospital. I’ve just always had a very fast metabolism,” she reasons.
“You need to build some muscles if you’re going to be a good in plastics,” Mark says.
Lexie smiles and nods because she knows she doesn’t have the discipline to join a gym and start the whole lifting weights thing. “Tell me you don’t have an aversion to gyms,” Mark demands.
“I’ve never been a member of a gym,” she admits.
“You can use the one at the Archfield,” Mark offers. “I lift weights down there. I could teach you what to do. You don’t have to be a bodybuilder; you just have to be able to have some muscular strength for doing long surgeries.”
“We’ll see,” Lexie says.
“You’ll do it if you really want to learn. I have to have a physically strong intern on my service,” Mark says sternly.
“Okay then,” Lexie agrees. “You’ll teach me to lift weights.”
Mark nods in satisfaction and then turns his head to the approaching waiter who sets down their respective bottles of beer. Mark takes a long, greedy drink of his, ready to unwind from the stressful day he wasn’t supposed to have. When he sets the bottle back down and lets out a satisfied grunt, Lexie turns her attention from reading the fine print on her beer label to his face. “You seemed sad today,” she says.
Mark’s eyebrow quirks in response, daring her to ask the question again. “When we were at the nurse’s station watching Dr. Bailey and her family,” she clarifies. “You seemed sad.”
Mark shifts in his chair, her scrutiny far too perceptive for his liking. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Avoidance?” she asks. “I know that game well. I’m the adult child of an alcoholic father living under his roof because I’m too scared to tell him that I’m leaving. Because if I leave, he’ll die alone. So I get it. But if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”
Mark looks deeply into her eyes. There is so much about her that Seattle Grace doesn’t see. On the outside she looks like a perfectly happy young woman. Her smile is always intact; her pearly white teeth shining and assuring a patient that everything will be alright. Her doe eyes are innocent and the straightness of her shoulders doesn’t reveal that she’s carrying this kind of a burden. Mark carries this kind of burden all the time; but he is certain that his shoulders slump under the weight of the sadness and loneliness. And instead of saying what he really wants to, he says, “I heard you were having some family trouble.”
“Good news travels fast,” she quips, taking a short drink of her beer.
“You’re sacrificing your life for his sake, aren’t you?”
“He’s my father,” she whispers. “How can I abandon him?”
“You don’t have to, but you don’t have to live with him either,” Mark says, hoping to offer her an alternative to something that seems to be making her so sad.
“George asked me if I wanted to get an apartment with him,” she admits. “And I’m thinking about it.”
“George O’Malley?” Mark asks, choking on a swig of beer. “No.”
“No?”
“No. You shouldn’t move in with him. He’s a repeater, Lexie. If you are going to move in with a coworker you need to move in with someone on or above your level. You need to be challenged even at home because you’re an intern and this is an important year in your medical career.”
“George is nice to me,” Lexie argues.
“So am I, but are you running to move in with me?”
Lexie exhales a quick breath of air, holding back the words that are on the tip of her tongue. The ones that say, you’re too damn hot to not want to move in with. Instead she says, “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“I’m Mark Sloan, when has the word appropriate ever been used in conjunction with me?” he smirks.
“We are not having this conversation,” Lexie replies. “Besides, I was thinking of asking Megan if she could take on another roommate.”
“I don’t know who Megan is,” Mark admits.
“She’s another intern, but she’s not a willing student for the master Mark Sloan,” Lexie teases.
Mark laughs, his smirk turning into a grin before her eyes. “Much better choice.”
The pizza arrives and they each take a slice of their chosen pie and start eating. But her question continues to eat at him and he realizes that he wants to tell her. He’s never told a soul. Addison told Callie but no one else at Seattle Grace knows what happened. And suddenly, he really wants Lexie to know because he thinks she might understand better than anyone. “I was remembering something back there. When we were at the nurse’s station,” he admits.
Lexie sets down the piece of pizza and swallows the food in her mouth before nodding at him to continue. “When Derek left, Addison and I moved in together and tried to make it work. But I wasn’t faithful to her, I couldn’t stop my whorish ways and I kept sleeping around. And then one day she told me she was pregnant.”
Lexie nearly drops the beer in her hand because the thought of Mark Sloan being a father wasn’t something that had ever crossed her mind.
The idea that he would abandon a child isn’t something she believes he has in him. “I knew that I would have to change and I really wanted to because this was going to be my child. I just had to change and then she told me that she wasn’t sure she wanted the baby.”
Lexie locks her eyes on his, never allowing his gaze to veer from hers, and his face turns deathly pale. “So I went out and bought this Yankees onesie, because I just wanted her to know that I wanted the baby. And when I gave it to her, she told me she’d had an abortion and she was leaving me to come to Seattle to get Derek back.”
When Mark finishes the story, he doesn’t wait for a reaction; he just picks up his pizza again and starts eating. But Lexie isn’t so lucky, tears streaming down her face. “You said a baby could pull two people apart,” she whispers.
“Yeah, especially if one person wants it and the other one doesn’t,” he scoffs, taking another long drink of his beer.
Lexie isn’t stupid, he’s putting on a show for her benefit and she knows it. Mark Sloan is a man who wants a family and it’s been wretched from his grasp. She gets that, if not on the same level, but she gets it all the same. Mark lightly sets the beer on the table saying “I can’t imagine going through what Bailey did today. I never even met my child and I miss it everyday. How do you get over something like this when your child is living and breathing?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “But I think you just do. She still has to be his mother at the end of the day and she just can’t let it consume her.”
“I shouldn’t even ask that question,” Mark says, going in for another slice.
“You would have been a wonderful father,” Lexie says, looking into his eyes and nodding her affirmation.
“Addison told me I would have been a terrible father.”
“She’s wrong. You stood at the nurse’s station tonight in solidarity with a mother whose child almost died. And you got it because you were a father. You are a father who loves the child you lost, even if the mother wouldn’t let you.”
Mark stops in mid-bite, setting the pizza back down on the plate. His forearms rest on either side of his plate and he drops his chin to his chest. He’s struggling not to cry because this is the nicest thing anyone’s said to him in years. Lexie, seeing his struggle, wonders whether she should have shut up two minutes ago or just what she should do now. But instead of wondering any longer, she goes with her instincts and reaches a hand across the table to grasp his. They don’t exchange a single word for five minutes as he clutches her hand in a death grip, fearing that if he lets go, the emotion he’s squelched for so long will bubble over the top. She looks at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, wanting him to look up and tell her that he needs her. Because she really is alone too and this is the most human contact she’s had in months that hasn’t been degrading and negative. When he finally does look at her, his steel blue eyes are glassy, but there isn’t a single tear to be found. He squeezes her hand and lets go, the moment now over.
“I didn’t bring you here to tell you that,” he admits, sheepishly.
“We’re both alone, remember? Who else are you going to tell?”
He nods, “You should move in with Megan, you shouldn’t be living with someone who doesn’t support you, even if he is your father.”
Lexie nods too, knowing that he’s right about this. She’s been debating it for weeks, not just because of her father but because she needs something for herself. She needs a home of her own, one that’s not controlled by her parent. “If Megan will have me,” she agrees.
Mark laughs heartily, “I’m sure you’re a terrible roommate,” he teases.
“I’m the worst,” she agrees. “I cook, I clean, and I do laundry.”
“Yeah, Megan definitely wouldn’t want you to be her roommate. There’s no way she’d want someone like that in her apartment.”
Lexie laughs at his teasing, knowing that he’s just trying to give her the push she needs to strike out on her own again. The waiter arrives with the check and it’s obvious that he hasn’t gotten the memo that this is a dinner between friends and naturally they are going to be practicing dutch treat. “He didn’t split it?”
“Nah, this one’s on me,” Mark says, grabbing the check before she can reach it.
“That’s hardly fair, none of my other friends buy my dinner,” she reasons.
“Well, I’m buying your dinner, so get over it,” he replies, handing his credit card and the check back to the waiter.
They sit in companionable silence, Lexie fidgeting with her hands, unsure of how to appropriately thank her boss for a wonderful dinner. But it didn’t seem like a boss and employee dinner. Instead, she thinks this seems like the best date she’s been on since, well, ever maybe. But that’s insane, Lexie knows he couldn’t possibly be interested in her and this is just a nice gesture. It’s a boss buying his employee a dinner after a good days work. And she feels stupid for thinking that it could be something more than a platonic relationship, so she smiles, almost bitterly.
“What’s that about?” Mark asks, having watched her inner struggle.
“Oh, nothing. Just, thank you, you know, for buying dinner. You don’t have to do that.”
Mark shrugs, taking the receipt from the waiter, adding a tip, and pushing back from the table. “Ready?”
Lexie nods and they stand to leave the pizzeria. Outside in the parking lot, they stand between their individual cars, her old, beat up VW bug being a stark contrast from his shiny, new Porche 911. “Thank you,” Lexie says again.
“Stop. It’s just dinner. We don’t have to act like I bought you a new car or something,” Mark insists.
“All the same, I’m grateful.”
“See you in the morning, Lexie,” Mark says, before clasping a hand on her shoulder in a somewhat intimate, yet platonic, gesture.
“Good night, Mark,” she replies, turning to get in her car and wondering what in the world she’s getting herself into.
Author: KelNY7
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mark/Lexie
Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy or any of its characters.
I have been trying to post this for three days...honestly! I'm still out of town, heading for home tomorrow, and things have been all kinds of crazy. So, I apologize to my faithful readers for not posting this much sooner. Thank you for sticking with me :) I'm also working on a post-ep for last week...inspiration finally struck...that is, if people are still interested in reading a post ep for last week. Additionally, a quick note: I know that there are journals that I am behind on reading and commenting on...my hope is to be able to catch up over the next couple days. Without further ado, Chapter Two:
Lexie isn’t sure what time it is, she only knows that she’s running late. Her alarm went off on time, but the room was spinning and she simply couldn’t move. Damn, when had she become such a lightweight? She shrugs and starts up the hallway, having already changed into her scrubs. Yang is standing by the nurse’s station, barking orders to Lexie’s fellow interns. “Ah, Grey, so nice of you to join us. For that, you’re going to be working on scut all day,” Christina says with an evil smile.
“I don’t think so,” Mark says, having come up behind Lexie. “Dr. Grey is going to be on my service until further notice. I assume you won’t have an objection to that, Dr. Yang.”
“Plastics? Fine, that’s even better than scut, she’ll be far away from me.”
Lexie rolls her eyes, wondering if there will ever be day that she won’t be the pariah of Seattle Grace. Although, things seem to be looking up considering the fact that Mark followed through on his promise to allow her on his service. “Thank you,” she says as Christina and the other interns head walk away to continue with rounds.
“I told you, I need a willing student. And I think you need a break from Dr. Yang’s hospitality,” Mark smirks.
“See, I told you, Meredith issued an edict. Beware of the curse of Lexie Grey,” Lexie teases.
“I’m not scared of being on Meredith’s bad side; besides, she and Shep are on the rocks. This is just solidarity.”
“Okay then, whatcha got?” Lexie asks.
“Ever seen an ankle reconstruction?”
The ankle reconstruction, although interesting and delicate, had been less interesting than Lexie expected. But, she’s sure that it’s only because Dr. Bailey’s son is fighting for his life in the next OR. Neither she nor Mark knew until after they were scrubbed in and when they step up to the OR board to erase their completed surgery, George approaches cautiously. “Bookcase fell on him. Bailey is a wreck,” George says to both of them.
Lexie hangs her head, sending up a silent prayer that today’s surgeries are more successful than yesterday’s. “These things happen, Dr. Grey,” Mark says, placing his hands on his hips and blowing out a deep breath.
“Excuse me?” Meredith asks, having just walked up to the board.
“Was a speaking to you?” Mark asks, giving her a menacing glare.
“You said my name.”
“If you’ll recall there is another doctor here with your name,” Mark says.
“I was here first,” Meredith says, staring Lexie down.
“But I’m here now. And I get that you don’t want to deal with me, but here I am,” Lexie retorts.
“Okay, ladies, now is not the time or the place to deal with this,” Mark says, dropping his voice lower. “Bailey’s baby is in surgery and he may die. Now is not the time.”
“Just be careful about throwing my name around, Dr. Sloan,” Meredith says. “I wouldn’t want someone to get confused.”
Lexie’s jaw drops open as she watches Meredith stalk away from the board, towards the nurse’s station. “I’m sorry, Dr. Sloan. That was unprofessional.” Lexie manages to say, her bottom lip quivering.
Mark nods slowly, his lips pursed, “You’re learning. You’re going to be okay,” he promises.
Mark changes out of his scrubs before his shift actually ends. He’s sure that he won’t be needed in another surgery, the OR is quiet and the ER hasn’t had a serious patient in the last four hours. It’s slow, which is usually the sign of something bad, but today, he’s positive that it’s just a sign that someone is taking mercy on this hospital. He’d stood shoulder to shoulder with most of the attendings waiting outside the OR doors for Bailey’s baby. Miranda Bailey, someone he considers to be a pillar of virtue and strength in a vile world, has all but broken down. He can’t imagine what she must be feeling, but he imagines that it must be something akin to what he felt after Addison aborted their baby. He remembers feeling empty and scared and helpless. And he remembers going over the day again and again wondering what he said to her that made her kill their child. But he never came up with a reason. And he’s pretty sure that’s what Bailey’s going through. Except it must be worse, because she actually got a chance to meet her child before this happened.
Mark walks up to the nurse’s station, seeing Lexie already standing there watching Bailey and her husband sit with their child. “Hey,” he says, dropping an elbow on the counter, “Post ops?”
“Done. I went ahead and changed too, I hope you don’t mind,” Lexie says.
“Nope. You had a good first day. How’s the baby?”
“Stable. Look at them,” she sighs, “they love him so much but they can’t see each other. They’re missing the forest for the trees.”
Mark nods, dropping his chin to his chest, “Sometimes a child can drive a couple apart.”
“That’s sad,” Lexie says, wondering why his eyes look so far away in this moment.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “You haven’t had a decent meal in days, have you? Want to get some food?”
Lexie’s smile returns, “Yeah, I’d love that. Where?”
“There’s a pizza joint a few blocks over.”
“Thin crust cheese, light sauce, with mushrooms, spinach, and tomatoes?”
“You can order anything you want. But I’m a man and I’ll be eating something less girly,” Mark smirks.
“Whatever,” she teases, pushing away from the station and walking out of the hospital.
They order two pizzas, Lexie’s eyes growing large when Mark orders double pepperoni on his meat and cheese pizza, “Seriously? Aren’t you a plastic surgeon? You’re supposed to be obsessed with looks and health and you’re eating the most unhealthy thing on the menu?”
“You can’t deny yourself something you really want. If you do, you’ll want it even more and you’ll never be satisfied. That goes for food and life in general,” Mark replies. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt that I run five miles a day.”
Lexie’s jaw drops, “Five miles a day? You’d have to be an athlete to have that kind of stamina.”
“I played football in high school and just never got out of the habit of working out. You seem to be health conscious, don’t you run or something?”
“Not really, I do a lot of running in the hospital. I’ve just always had a very fast metabolism,” she reasons.
“You need to build some muscles if you’re going to be a good in plastics,” Mark says.
Lexie smiles and nods because she knows she doesn’t have the discipline to join a gym and start the whole lifting weights thing. “Tell me you don’t have an aversion to gyms,” Mark demands.
“I’ve never been a member of a gym,” she admits.
“You can use the one at the Archfield,” Mark offers. “I lift weights down there. I could teach you what to do. You don’t have to be a bodybuilder; you just have to be able to have some muscular strength for doing long surgeries.”
“We’ll see,” Lexie says.
“You’ll do it if you really want to learn. I have to have a physically strong intern on my service,” Mark says sternly.
“Okay then,” Lexie agrees. “You’ll teach me to lift weights.”
Mark nods in satisfaction and then turns his head to the approaching waiter who sets down their respective bottles of beer. Mark takes a long, greedy drink of his, ready to unwind from the stressful day he wasn’t supposed to have. When he sets the bottle back down and lets out a satisfied grunt, Lexie turns her attention from reading the fine print on her beer label to his face. “You seemed sad today,” she says.
Mark’s eyebrow quirks in response, daring her to ask the question again. “When we were at the nurse’s station watching Dr. Bailey and her family,” she clarifies. “You seemed sad.”
Mark shifts in his chair, her scrutiny far too perceptive for his liking. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Avoidance?” she asks. “I know that game well. I’m the adult child of an alcoholic father living under his roof because I’m too scared to tell him that I’m leaving. Because if I leave, he’ll die alone. So I get it. But if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”
Mark looks deeply into her eyes. There is so much about her that Seattle Grace doesn’t see. On the outside she looks like a perfectly happy young woman. Her smile is always intact; her pearly white teeth shining and assuring a patient that everything will be alright. Her doe eyes are innocent and the straightness of her shoulders doesn’t reveal that she’s carrying this kind of a burden. Mark carries this kind of burden all the time; but he is certain that his shoulders slump under the weight of the sadness and loneliness. And instead of saying what he really wants to, he says, “I heard you were having some family trouble.”
“Good news travels fast,” she quips, taking a short drink of her beer.
“You’re sacrificing your life for his sake, aren’t you?”
“He’s my father,” she whispers. “How can I abandon him?”
“You don’t have to, but you don’t have to live with him either,” Mark says, hoping to offer her an alternative to something that seems to be making her so sad.
“George asked me if I wanted to get an apartment with him,” she admits. “And I’m thinking about it.”
“George O’Malley?” Mark asks, choking on a swig of beer. “No.”
“No?”
“No. You shouldn’t move in with him. He’s a repeater, Lexie. If you are going to move in with a coworker you need to move in with someone on or above your level. You need to be challenged even at home because you’re an intern and this is an important year in your medical career.”
“George is nice to me,” Lexie argues.
“So am I, but are you running to move in with me?”
Lexie exhales a quick breath of air, holding back the words that are on the tip of her tongue. The ones that say, you’re too damn hot to not want to move in with. Instead she says, “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“I’m Mark Sloan, when has the word appropriate ever been used in conjunction with me?” he smirks.
“We are not having this conversation,” Lexie replies. “Besides, I was thinking of asking Megan if she could take on another roommate.”
“I don’t know who Megan is,” Mark admits.
“She’s another intern, but she’s not a willing student for the master Mark Sloan,” Lexie teases.
Mark laughs, his smirk turning into a grin before her eyes. “Much better choice.”
The pizza arrives and they each take a slice of their chosen pie and start eating. But her question continues to eat at him and he realizes that he wants to tell her. He’s never told a soul. Addison told Callie but no one else at Seattle Grace knows what happened. And suddenly, he really wants Lexie to know because he thinks she might understand better than anyone. “I was remembering something back there. When we were at the nurse’s station,” he admits.
Lexie sets down the piece of pizza and swallows the food in her mouth before nodding at him to continue. “When Derek left, Addison and I moved in together and tried to make it work. But I wasn’t faithful to her, I couldn’t stop my whorish ways and I kept sleeping around. And then one day she told me she was pregnant.”
Lexie nearly drops the beer in her hand because the thought of Mark Sloan being a father wasn’t something that had ever crossed her mind.
The idea that he would abandon a child isn’t something she believes he has in him. “I knew that I would have to change and I really wanted to because this was going to be my child. I just had to change and then she told me that she wasn’t sure she wanted the baby.”
Lexie locks her eyes on his, never allowing his gaze to veer from hers, and his face turns deathly pale. “So I went out and bought this Yankees onesie, because I just wanted her to know that I wanted the baby. And when I gave it to her, she told me she’d had an abortion and she was leaving me to come to Seattle to get Derek back.”
When Mark finishes the story, he doesn’t wait for a reaction; he just picks up his pizza again and starts eating. But Lexie isn’t so lucky, tears streaming down her face. “You said a baby could pull two people apart,” she whispers.
“Yeah, especially if one person wants it and the other one doesn’t,” he scoffs, taking another long drink of his beer.
Lexie isn’t stupid, he’s putting on a show for her benefit and she knows it. Mark Sloan is a man who wants a family and it’s been wretched from his grasp. She gets that, if not on the same level, but she gets it all the same. Mark lightly sets the beer on the table saying “I can’t imagine going through what Bailey did today. I never even met my child and I miss it everyday. How do you get over something like this when your child is living and breathing?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “But I think you just do. She still has to be his mother at the end of the day and she just can’t let it consume her.”
“I shouldn’t even ask that question,” Mark says, going in for another slice.
“You would have been a wonderful father,” Lexie says, looking into his eyes and nodding her affirmation.
“Addison told me I would have been a terrible father.”
“She’s wrong. You stood at the nurse’s station tonight in solidarity with a mother whose child almost died. And you got it because you were a father. You are a father who loves the child you lost, even if the mother wouldn’t let you.”
Mark stops in mid-bite, setting the pizza back down on the plate. His forearms rest on either side of his plate and he drops his chin to his chest. He’s struggling not to cry because this is the nicest thing anyone’s said to him in years. Lexie, seeing his struggle, wonders whether she should have shut up two minutes ago or just what she should do now. But instead of wondering any longer, she goes with her instincts and reaches a hand across the table to grasp his. They don’t exchange a single word for five minutes as he clutches her hand in a death grip, fearing that if he lets go, the emotion he’s squelched for so long will bubble over the top. She looks at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, wanting him to look up and tell her that he needs her. Because she really is alone too and this is the most human contact she’s had in months that hasn’t been degrading and negative. When he finally does look at her, his steel blue eyes are glassy, but there isn’t a single tear to be found. He squeezes her hand and lets go, the moment now over.
“I didn’t bring you here to tell you that,” he admits, sheepishly.
“We’re both alone, remember? Who else are you going to tell?”
He nods, “You should move in with Megan, you shouldn’t be living with someone who doesn’t support you, even if he is your father.”
Lexie nods too, knowing that he’s right about this. She’s been debating it for weeks, not just because of her father but because she needs something for herself. She needs a home of her own, one that’s not controlled by her parent. “If Megan will have me,” she agrees.
Mark laughs heartily, “I’m sure you’re a terrible roommate,” he teases.
“I’m the worst,” she agrees. “I cook, I clean, and I do laundry.”
“Yeah, Megan definitely wouldn’t want you to be her roommate. There’s no way she’d want someone like that in her apartment.”
Lexie laughs at his teasing, knowing that he’s just trying to give her the push she needs to strike out on her own again. The waiter arrives with the check and it’s obvious that he hasn’t gotten the memo that this is a dinner between friends and naturally they are going to be practicing dutch treat. “He didn’t split it?”
“Nah, this one’s on me,” Mark says, grabbing the check before she can reach it.
“That’s hardly fair, none of my other friends buy my dinner,” she reasons.
“Well, I’m buying your dinner, so get over it,” he replies, handing his credit card and the check back to the waiter.
They sit in companionable silence, Lexie fidgeting with her hands, unsure of how to appropriately thank her boss for a wonderful dinner. But it didn’t seem like a boss and employee dinner. Instead, she thinks this seems like the best date she’s been on since, well, ever maybe. But that’s insane, Lexie knows he couldn’t possibly be interested in her and this is just a nice gesture. It’s a boss buying his employee a dinner after a good days work. And she feels stupid for thinking that it could be something more than a platonic relationship, so she smiles, almost bitterly.
“What’s that about?” Mark asks, having watched her inner struggle.
“Oh, nothing. Just, thank you, you know, for buying dinner. You don’t have to do that.”
Mark shrugs, taking the receipt from the waiter, adding a tip, and pushing back from the table. “Ready?”
Lexie nods and they stand to leave the pizzeria. Outside in the parking lot, they stand between their individual cars, her old, beat up VW bug being a stark contrast from his shiny, new Porche 911. “Thank you,” Lexie says again.
“Stop. It’s just dinner. We don’t have to act like I bought you a new car or something,” Mark insists.
“All the same, I’m grateful.”
“See you in the morning, Lexie,” Mark says, before clasping a hand on her shoulder in a somewhat intimate, yet platonic, gesture.
“Good night, Mark,” she replies, turning to get in her car and wondering what in the world she’s getting herself into.