Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I walk out the entrance of Seattle Grace Mercy West, my heart pounding. Spotting Mark, I awkwardly shuffle over to him, rain droplets falling onto my head as I maneuver. Standing there for a second, I inhale deeply, feeling shaky as I let the breath out.

"Lex, you okay?" Mark asks, standing a healthy distance away from me, phone in hand.

"I love you."

No, no, no, this can't be happening.

"Oh my God, that just came flying out of my face like it was some kind of - I love you! I-I just did it again..."

To my surprise, that didn't feel entirely awful. Still, I can't help but wonder what I look like at the given moment—standing like a crazy woman in front of the man she loves, who just so happens to have a girlfriend.

"I do! I just—I love you, and I have been trying not to say it—I have been trying so hard to just mash it down and ignore it and not say it an-and Jackson is a great guy. He is! He's gorgeous and he doesn't have any grandchildren or babies with his lesbian BFF's and he's an Avery and he liked me! You know, he really liked me! But it wasn't going to ever work out because I-I still love you. I'm so in love with you—and you're in me—you're like-i-it's like you're a disease. It's like I'm infected by Mark Sloan and I just can't—I can't think about anything or anybody and I can't sleep. I can't breathe. I can't eat, and I love you—I just love you all the time, every minute of every day and I-I-I love you. God, that just feels so good to say. I feel so much better. I love you!" I end with an awkward sort of a giggle.

Catching my breath, I notice Mark hasn't said anything, the unpleasant silence ringing through my ears. Please. Just say something. Anything.

"Mark?"

Deep down, I knew this would happen. Every time I've tried to tell him how I feel, I couldn't, and maybe that was for a reason. Maybe, by getting the words out, I've somehow cheated fate and now this is my consequence.

I quickly glance up at him before I glance down at the ground, frozen in a mix of embarrassment, self-loathing, and self-pity. The rain thuds against the pavement as I blink back a tear beginning to form in my eye.

Suddenly, his face is inches away from me and his mouth is on mine.

After a second or two, I kiss back, utterly shocked by his action. My hands find the back of his jacket, my heartbeat quickening. Words cannot describe how much I have missed this feeling. I'm the first to pull away, still a bit overwhelmed with the last few minute's events. Then, I hear the three words that I've been craving to hear come out his mouth again for the longest time.

"I love you too." There it is. I don't even attempt to hide the wide smile that my mouth breaks into. I look down and see that my clothes are completely drenched. I hadn't even noticed how uncomfortable I was physically until now.

"Lexie, I need to go talk with Julia," he says. Normally, those words would send a slight panic through me, but his reassuring smile says otherwise. He walks into the lobby of the hospital, leaving me alone with the thought of endless possibilities.

My gaze fixates on Mark for a moment until I turn around and get in my car. I drive off sending a text.

To: Mark 
Driving home right now.
I'll call you later. I love you.
From: Lexie

To: Lexie 
I'm driving you to work today.
Be ready at 5. I'll see you in a bit.
From: Mark

The clock reads 4:26. I haul myself out of my warm bed and shuffle downstairs into the bathroom. As I stare at myself in the mirror, I reminisce about the night prior. I still can't truly wrap my head around it. I mean, he said it back. Mark Sloan said it back. 

My phone buzzes. It's him. I swipe right and hold my phone to my ear.

"Hey, Lex. I'm out front," His voice says through the phone, making me smile. That smile is broken however, when I realize that what I've done this morning consists of waking up and fantasizing about a guy. I brush my teeth like a madman, throwing my hair into something I don't think even counts as a bun.

After making a mess of Meredith's attic, I run out of the house, probably forgetting something in my state of hurry. Mark puts down the passenger side window.

"You look...neat," he remarks with a laugh.

"Shut up and let me in," I retort back, hiding my slight grin. Mark unlocks the car door and I climb inside. "Why the hell are you here so early?"

"What do you mean? I said to be ready for 5!"

"And it's," I glance at the clock on my phone, "4:32! You're 28 minutes early."

Mark just looks at me apologetically and begins driving us to the hospital.

"So, Lex, aren't you taking out an 'impossible' tumor with Shepherd today?" Mark breaks the comfortable silence. "He mentioned something about it to me yesterday."

"Yep," I say, still half asleep, choosing not the mention the fact that Derek was talking to Mark about me.

"You might want to take a nap when we get to work. You look exhausted."

"I have rounds," I sigh.

"After. I'll join you, if you want."

"Mark!" I roll my eyes playfully, rubbing my head in an attempt to wake myself up.

"I'm serious! You've better rest up before that surgery in Boise."

I laugh. "We have two days. I'm sure I will be well rested by then, as long as you stop picking me up at the crack of dawn."

Mark's red car pulls into the parking lot. We get out hand in hand and walk into the hospital.

I'm the last one on the plane. I start walking towards the back until I see Mark motioning for me to sit next to him.

"Hi," I say, taking my place next to him.

"Hi," he says back. He pecks my lips and takes my hand in his as we prepare for takeoff.

Chapter Text

In front of me is nothing but darkness, so black I’m not even sure I’m alive. Until it turns to light. The sort of light that’s an ugly shade of white; a sterile shade. 

"She's awake. Ma'am, do you know where you are?" a smiling man in green scrubs asks. I blink once. Twice. Three times. A minute ago I was—

"You’re in a hospital in Boise. We are bringing you up to the OR right now. Now do you remember what happened?" I slightly try to nod, the hurt inside me cutting like a knife. 

The past floods into my mind. 

I sharply inhale, my ribs aching like a hot blade. I attempt to look around, but that proves impossible as everything is blurring together. Some sort of brain injury—just a concussion hopefully—but who knows?

"M-M-” A weak, strangled noise comes out of me. My eyes dash around the room, praying someone will understand me.

"Shhh, it's okay, don't try to speak. I know, it hurts, but we are going to fix you up soon," the man—doctor says sympathetically, but he doesn't understand. I need to know if he’s okay.

I need to know if Mark is okay. Maybe he's looking for me—I don't even know where I am or whether I'm near anyone else. My breathing speeds up, trying to steady my vision. I hear a voice in the distance, probably coming from one of us. Not his, though.

I attempt to stand up, pain shooting up my legs and into the rest of me. I stumble along, powering through it, however, praying I find him—find anyone, really—before walking into a tree.

"Dr. Grey, you have a few broken ribs and a broken leg as well as a few other minor injuries that we are going to fix today. The CT was clear, but we do suspect a concussion. You're very lucky, Dr. Grey," the doctor says with another smile. 

That word rings in my ears. Lucky. What’s lucky about getting in a plane crash? What’s lucky about being stranded in the woods unable to breathe without feeling like you’re going to pass out? What’s lucky about seeing—unless the others weren’t as lucky. That realization sends a new ache through my body.

The smiling doctor and two others wheel me down the corridor and into the OR. The bright lights are almost blinding, causing me to squint. A woman in a purple scrub cap puts an oxygen mask over my face.

"Count backwards from ten for me," she says with a smile.

"10...9...8...7...6...5-"

"Lexie! Lexie! Over here!" A deep voice calls out. I'd know that voice anywhere. I collapse onto the ground into Mark’s arms, pain consuming me, but it's okay because he's here. My body can shut down if it wants to.

"Lex, are you okay?" Mark whispers, assessing my injuries. I begin weeping into the space in between his neck and shoulder as he strokes my hair. We stay like that for what feels like forever, the pain I’m feeling beginning to turn into some sort of peace.

I lift my head up, wipe away my tears, and cup his face with one hand, taking his hand in the other.

"I love you," I whisper, looking into his blue eyes. His lips form a line before I watch his eyes drift close. 

"Mark!" I yell, my voice not even sounding like my own. 

"Who's there?" A feminine voice yells back. I look around, trying to find the source of the noise, through my blurry vision, this time due to tears. Cristina limps over to the two of us, with only one shoe on. 

"Lexie! What happened?" She rushes over to us upon seeing the man on the ground in front of me.

"I-I-I don't know—h-he just—his ey-eyes—is he dead?" I sob, my chest seething with pain. She shakes him slightly.

"Oh my God. Uh, Lexie, I-I don't want you to watch this. Turn away or go try to find the others or something...just don't watch," she says.

Despite my need to walk away, my legs refuse to carry me. Whether it’s because of injuries or because my brain wants to torture me, something makes me stay. 

"Cristina, what's happening?" I ask as she rips open Mark's shirt.

"Cardiac tamponade. I think."

"You think?" I exclaim. “Oh my God. Oh my God, Mark. H-He’s gonna—”

My eyes shoot open, the beeping of a monitor filling the room. 

"Dr. Grey, glad to see you awake! Your surgery went very well," the smiling doctor says with his usual smile on his face.

"H-How is everyone?" I manage to get out in a whisper, my voice hoarse. 

The smiling doctor leans down and his smile fades a bit.

"Well, some are doing better than others...everyone is stable for now though, thank God."

So everyone is alive. I exhale, the pain in my chest less than it was before.

“Meredith?” I cough slightly. 

“Yes, she’s doing very well. She kept asking about you.”

"S-she’s a good sister. And Mark?"

"Dr. Sloan? He's stable and awake. He kept crashing in the beginning, but he's a fighter. Maybe you can see him soon, if you're both up to it."

"I remember," I whisper, feeling my chest begin to tighten again.

"I remember Mark crashing in the woods. An-and Cristina had to resuscitate him so many—so many times. After a while, I gave up faith in him. I thought—I was convinced he was going to die out there."

The doctor blinks, visibly unsure of how to respond. "I'm surprised you remember that. Many people who went through that sort of trauma wouldn't."

"Photographic memory. My friends sometimes call me Lexipedia. Y’know, like an encyclopedia, but I’m Lexie, so it’s Lexipedia. But yeah, you'd be surprised by the things that I remember—I remember when I was held at gunpoint. I remember when my mom died. Did you know she died of the hiccups? I mean, who dies from the hiccups?” I take a deep breath, attempting to curb my rambling. “I remember a lot.”

The smiling doctor looks shocked, his usual smile in a frown, faltering for a minute to reply. "You're incredibly strong. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“You’re the second.” Mark was the first. 

Chapter Text

"Lex?" I hear a voice call out, startling me from my ill attempt at a nap. I know who it is before I even open my eyes. I could sense him anywhere.

"Mark," I say with a smile. It feels like an eternity since I’ve been able to look into his blue eyes. 

"How are you?” he asks with a smile matching mine, his voice low and calm.

"Honestly? I’m exhausted. I haven't slept since…" my voice trails off, the memory of the last time I felt this tired and the consequences flooding my mind. 

"You need to get some sleep, Lexie. I've missed you," Mark says quietly, wheeling himself closer to my bed.

"I've missed you, too. Did you know that there are 83 tiles in this ceiling?” 

“That’s a lot of tiles.” He looks up, eyes raking over the tiles.

“I know, right?”

"I don't want to waste any more time, Lex." He replies, his gaze returning to me. I can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks in this moment, his graying hair slightly disheveled. 

“I don’t want to either. Believe me.”

Mark begins to climb out of his wheelchair, reaching towards me.

"Be careful,” I warn, seeing him falter as he stands.

"I'll be okay," he nestles into bed next to me, but not before knocking down a cart of supplies. 

They fall to the ground with a loud crash, making me jump. I inhale sharply, feeling my breath get quick as memories rush back.

"No, no, no. Get back in the wheelchair!" I say hysterically. My stomach feels sick. Mark looks me in the eye, hand cupping my cheek, concern evident on his face. "This isn’t a good idea. Mark, you need to get back in the wheelchair. Or else you—” 

I push away his hand in an attempt to make him listen, finding myself unable to get a handle on my breathing. 

"Shhh… Everything is fine. I’m fine.”

I shake my head, “You’ll—I read somewhere that—”

Mark cuts me off again, wrapping his arms around me, not leaving any room for me to push him away. "Lexie! Breathe. You’re safe. Just breathe.” 

I feel his hand behind my head, anchoring me. Slowly, my breathing begins to fall into a rhythm in tandem with his.

The panic subsides, leaving me small. 

"I just can't forget," I burrow into him. My voice sounds shrunken, monotone almost.

"I know," Mark says, stroking my hair, his calloused fingertips brushing lightly against my temple.

"I'm sorry..."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Mark says softly, his voice breaking. “Try to get some rest.”

I close my eyes, allowing myself to finally drift away into sleep, but not before hearing a faint whisper: “I wish I could take it all away from you.”

My eyes flutter open, squinting as they adjust to the light. I feel my body calm upon the realization that there is still someone beside me.

"How did you sleep?” Mark asks, his voice sounding groggy and half-asleep himself.

"Good. I didn’t have any nightmares.”

He smiles, “I’m glad.” His mouth is turned up into a grin, but his eyes are full of sorrow. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine… I just hate seeing you like that. You don’t deserve all that pain.”

“I’m not the only one. Four other people went through the crash just like us.” I hesitate even naming what we went through. Just the word crash invokes a bitter taste in my mouth.

Mark sighs. “I know that, but it’s just different. I’ve always been different when it comes to you.”

I let his words resonate through me. 

Taking a deep breath, the words spill out of me. “Mark… I’m sorry.”

He looks confused for a second. "Sorry for what?" he says softly.

"…I don't know. About how I broke down. About how much I've put you through. About all of it." My eyes begin to well up with tears, causing me to turn away. I bite my lip, a part of me wishing he would get back in that wheelchair and leave.

He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Don’t shut me out, Lex. Not after everything. Whatever you're going through, I want to go through it with you. No matter what.”

“B-But… last time… I can’t go through that again,” I whisper. 

“Do you seriously think that I’m going to leave you? What, like Karev did?” His tone is strong, stern. 

“Julia doesn’t have a crazy memory with crazy flashbacks and crazy breakdowns.” My voice is void of any sort of jealousy or bitterness. All that comes out is genuine logic.

“Julia isn’t you, Lex. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Text

"Today's the day!" A man in green scrubs exclaims as he walks into my room.

"Yeah," I say with as much faux enthusiasm as I can muster up.

"What's wrong?" he says, his smile turning down. I instantly feel guilty. Discharge is usually what every patient looks forward to—I mean, there are probably so many people here who wish they were in my place.

"I don't want to go home yet,” I admit.

"Dr. Grey—"

"Lexie,” I correct with a smile. This guy is so nice.

“—Lexie, but we need the bed. You know I'd let you stay if I could."

I sigh. 

"It's Dr. Grey to you. Can I at least stay until late tonight? Maybe Mark will be able to leave by then.” 

"He needs to stay a few more days. We need to keep an eye on him for a little longer,” the doctor replies, his eyes apologetic. 

"This sucks.” 

The doctor pats me on the shoulder before walking out into the hallway. I stare up at the ceiling, deciding to count each line in the ceiling—it would be boring to count the tiles again, and I’ve already gone through every television channel a million times.

"Hi, Lexie." My sister walks in a few minutes later. 

"Meredith!" I look up at the door. “How are you? How’s the hotel? How’s Derek?"

"He and Callie are trying to figure something out,” she replies, a tinge of sadness in her voice. “I’m flying home tonight with him.”

“I really hope they can pull something off. That must be awful.” 

"So, how are you?" Meredith asks, clearly deflecting.

"I'm leaving today, too,” I reply, looking at the ceiling again.

"That's great."

"No, it isn't," I say, my voice tense. 

"Why not? If you’re nervous about the flight, they said they’ll bring sedatives."

"It’s not that. Well, kind of that. I don't want to leave Mark. He’s the last one of us and if he’s here alone—I don’t know. It sounds so stupid. I-I don’t even know how to explain it," I begin to ramble, unable to put into words the war I’ve got in my mind.

"It's okay, Lexie.” Meredith sits on the edge of my bed. “I know you better than you think I do. I know what you're scared of. Nothing's going to happen to Mark. It won't be any different than if you stayed here," she says reassuringly. "And think about it: at home, you can hang out with me and Derek and Zola. Isn't that better than being cooped up in a hospital bed? And you can call Mark whenever you want. He’ll be happy to see you healthy and out of a hospital gown."

"I guess. Thank you, Mer. When did you get so good at this sister thing?" I smile, my eyes blurry with tears.

She laughs, "In fact, do you want to go visit Mark right now? I just saw him and he was asking for you." 

I perk up at that. “Let’s go!”

Meredith holds a hand out. “Don’t you want a wheelchair first?”

“I’m fine. Can you tell a nurse where I’m going? Thanks!” I exclaim, walking out the door, my broken leg already healed, before she can say anything else.

I walk down the hallway, stopping before Room 1067 and knocking playfully on the wall. 

"Hey, Lex," Mark's face immediately lights up.

"Hi," I reply, a huge smile on my face.

"I heard that you're going home today…" Mark begins; his ability to read me like a book is almost scary. “…and you're not happy about it."

I bite my lip, almost embarrassed by my logic. "Not exactly," I reply, climbing into his bed.

"Lexie. Go home."

"But—"

"Go. Home.” He kisses my nose. “There's no reason for you to stay. Don’t be a martyr—I’m fine here. Get your ass back to Seattle and in some pajama pants."

I feel my eyes get teary. “…I’m scared.”

Mark immediately places a hand on my cheek. “I know you are. But do you want to know something?”

I look at him, a silent question in my eyes. 

“I am too. Maybe just as much as you are. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need to get out of here. We survived something huge; now it’s time to get on with our lives. I am fine. I’m going to stay fine.”

“Meredith said I should go home, too."

"See? Go home, Lex."

I sigh in defeat.

"Okay. Later though. Now I just want to be with you." I curl into him, and we just stay like that.

I hand a stack of signed papers to the doctor.

"Great. I'll get a few people in here to send you off."

Meredith walks into the room.

"So, you’re on the flight with me and Derek?"

"I guess so," I say with a conflicted expression.

“I’m glad you listened to me and Mark.”

I laugh softly, “I kind of didn’t have a choice with you both ganging up on me.”

A different doctor comes into my room with a wheelchair.

I glance at it, the realization that it’s my ticket out of here sinking in.

“This is really it.”

“Yeah, it is,” Meredith says, handing me some clothes. “I picked these up for you.”

I take them from her. “Thanks.”

The memory of my dirty scrubs—of the blood stains that might not have even been mine—racks through me, goosebumps raising on my arms.

I walk into the bathroom, politely refusing the help my sister offers me.

Lifting my hospital gown over my head, I gaze in the mirror.

I turn to the right, a long, curved line on my side catching my eye.

My finger traces the red, a shiver going through me.

“Lexie, everything okay?” My sister calls, knocking on the door.

“Yeah, just a second,” I reply, placing my hand over the scar.

I turn away from the mirror to put my clothes on. They aren’t really mine, though. The fabric feels weird against my skin.

I tug at the bottom of the shirt as I step back out into my room.

“You ready?”

I nod and sit down in the wheelchair. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Stretching to the ceiling, I finish hanging up the banner, which reads Welcome Home, Mark!. I glance at the clock: two hours left. I take a step backward to admire my work. 

As I look around Mark’s apartment, I cannot help but reminisce fondly on every—or almost every—moment I spent in here. The all-too-familiar kitchen counter where I once cooked meals, the comfy orange couch slightly faded from use. 

"This looks great, Lexie, " Meredith says with a smile. “Mark will like it.”

"I hope so."

"He will. That man loves attention," Derek replies. "We’re going to leave to pick him up in about an hour. I'll call you when we are almost here."

“Perfect. Callie and Arizona are coming over to help soon,” I say, shuffling into the bedroom.

Laid out in front of me is a red satin dress; the kind where I’d need a red lip to match it. I took a chance when I bought it, solely because the sales lady wouldn’t leave me alone. She had said something about my natural blush and something related to color theory—all things I didn’t really understand, but I wanted her to go away.

Shrugging, I reach past the dress to grab a scrunchie. I pull my hair back before running to the door as I hear the bell ring.

I open it to see my helpers.

“Lexie!” The blonde smiles. Arizona’s blue dress complements the accents in Callie’s black one. Where Arizona is beautiful, Callie is all hot. The women step inside the apartment, placing a tray on the table.

“We brought pie,” Callie says.

“You guys didn’t have to do that. Thank you!” I smile gratefully. “Would you mind helping set the table? I need to put up the balloons and get ready.”

“Yeah, wherever you need us,” Arizona replies.

“The dishes are—you guys know where his stuff is.” I go back into the bedroom, looking around for my curling iron. I turn the whole room upside down, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Crap,” I mutter under my breath.

Pulling out my phone, I check the time. An hour and thirty left—not enough time to go back to Mer’s.

Emerging into the kitchen, Arizona and Callie are hard at work. The counter is set with platters of sandwiches and salads. The chicken is out of the oven, and balloons have already been taped to the walls.

“Thank you, you guys. This all looks great.”

“Do you need us to do anything else?”

“Yeah, um, do either of you have a curling iron I could borrow?” I ask, suddenly feeling like an intern again. “I left mine at Mer’s.”

“Of course, let me go get it. I need to wake up Sofia anyway,” Arizona says, walking out the door.

“Come sit for a minute,” Callie pats the couch. I comply, sitting down next to her. I can’t remember the last time I actually talked to her; it always felt too awkward considering everything. “I’m really happy for you and Mark.”

I can’t hold back the smile that forms—the approval of the best friend is always important, but it’s made even more when the best friend also happens to be the mother of his child, among other things.

“I mean it. I’ve never seen him happier than when he’s with you. The days before…I hadn’t seen him that happy in a long time.”

“Thank you,” I reply. I quickly lean forward and wrap my arms around her, the urge to hug her newfound but not unwelcome. 

At that moment, Arizona comes through the door, Sofia on her hip and a curling iron in hand. Callie coos at her daughter while I take the iron and slip into the bedroom. 

Derek’s voice blares through the phone speaker, “Hey, we’re almost home.”

“Alright, see you soon,” I reply, gesturing for everyone to get in position. Callie and Arizona crouch behind a chair. Jackson and April hide on the other side of the kitchen counter, ignoring each other.

I stand in front of the door—I’ll be the first one he sees. 

A few minutes pass by and… nothing.

“Did Shepherd get lost?” Cristina jokes from behind her furniture.

“Shhh,” I hiss. “Be quiet, they could be right outside.” 

I fix my hair for the fourteenth time, glancing around at the decorations.

Finally, I hear the door unlocking. 

As the three of them walk in, everyone jumps up.

“Surprise!”

But I can’t form a coherent thought. Not when he’s looking at me like I hung the moon.

“Hi, Mark,” I whisper, frozen in time.

He stands in front of me, staring for a second.

“Lexie…” The sound is quick. My name brushes his lips like a native tongue.

“Welcome home.” I step out of the way, letting him go to his friends.

The night goes on just as I had planned it to. We eat, pop in a movie, take turns fawning over Sofia—my favorite part being that I got to admire Mark holding a kid.

It’s not until almost midnight that everyone finally leaves. The joyful chaos turns to comfortable quiet. There’s glitter on the floor, boas and balloons scattered about.

“Thank you for this, Lex.” Mark sits down next to me on the couch.

I look over at him. “Meredith and Derek did a lot—”

“I know you were the mastermind behind it all.” His smile reaches his eyes and my heart melts slightly.

“You had a good time?” I ask.

“I had an amazing time.” He kisses my nose softly. 

“I’m glad.”

“And you look amazing in that dress.” Mark’s voice is low, full of admiration. I can’t hide my blush as his eyes rake over me. “You need to wear red more often, Lexie Grey.”

The next thing I know, he’s carrying me to the bedroom.