When he came home, he found the living room in extraordinary order. The remotes were neatly lined up along the coffee table, coffee table at right angels to the bookshelf, bookshelf full of magazines placed in alphabetical order.

He knew something was wrong.

"Lexie, what're you doing! Focus!" Meredith cried, "you can't just keep blanking out on me – especially when you're explaining a procedure to a patient!"

She remained stock still, her eyes blank her mouth unmoving.

"Lexi!" Meredith groaned, "okay, I don't have time for this. Just tell me what's wrong? Did I do something? Was it Mark? Do you need to talk to someone?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Lexie finally responded, plastering a smile onto her face, "I'm sorry about earlier – it's just, that room makes me…uncomfortable."

"What? Why?" her sister questioned.

Lexie shrugged as she turned away, "I've gotta go – I'm scrubbing in on a craniotomy."

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Lexie continued as per usual staying light, as aloof as she could but friendly.

"Hey Lex," Jackson greeted her as he placed his tray down beside hers, "enjoying lunch?"

"Mhm…" she responded - a lovely emotion free response with only the slightest edge of bitterness, "it's been great."

And with that she finished her food and left.

Jackson, she found had a profound effect on her, he could bring out emotions that she didn't necessarily want to share at the hospital, at home, wherever.

They were her feelings, feelings which made her feel stupid, weak, ridiculous. Feelings which made her stomach feel like an endless pit, her eyes sting and swell with salty tears.

And so, to escape an outburst she had stayed away from him.

"Lex? Lexie?" he called up the stairs, "are you home?"

With no response he began up the stairs to her room.

"Lexie," he said again at her doorway.

There she was, hair pulled tightly away from her face, eyes puffy and pink, busying herself sharpening the lead pencils she kept in a tin on her desk.

He had never understood why she used pencil. It's the sound, she had explained, the sound that they make scratching against the paper. It's a lovely substantial sound – I feel like I've accomplished something whenever I write something down.

She glanced up at him.

" 're you alright?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" she replied, once again slapping on a smile that failed to meet her eyes, "I- I just needed to get organized…this place was a mess! You know they say that organized people have a much lower rate of heart disease. The amount they stress is far far less and they tend to have much stronger relationships – I don't know how that works – but it's true-"

"-Lex"

"And y'know in Australia they're doing this trial to find out if its true. They're testing these kids and they're making them organized and well, I read about it in this magazine on child psych-"

"Lexie. Lexie!" He took a step into her room.

"I'm fine!" she muttered again, he noticed that her voice broke in the middle, "I'm good. I'm fine…"

He couldn't believe that she was still denying to the N-th degree that something was wrong.

"Lexie Grey, look at me."

And she did, and that's when the tears began.

"It's nothing, really," she explained, "It's stupid – I'm being stupid… I-I-my mum died one year ago, today."

A slow steady stream of tears sliding down her reddend cheeks, her breathing uneven – too shallow, too fast. Doubled over she began to sob.

"Oh Lexie," he crooned as he sat beside her on the floor, "Shh-shh-shh…"

He pulled her into his arms, her head rested against his chest, his left arm encircling her.

"I'm being silly – see?" She said, wiping at her eyes.

"You're not. Lex – this isn't silly. You're allowed to be upset sometimes. You're allowed to have emotion and be upset and hell, cry all you like!" Jackson whispered to her, rubbing soothing circles into her back, "you're mum was important to you, you're allowed."

"You know the worst part?...I didn't even remember – I only remembered when I was standing in that room this morning and it all hit me and…and that's why I'm angry with myself. Jackson, I forgot the anniversary of my mum's death. I forgot it! Like it wasn't important."

"Hey, hey..shhh" he crooned to comfort her.

Jackson spread his legs in front of him and half pulled her onto his lap. Her head rested against his neck, his lips at her forehead. Her breathing slowed to his, sobbing subsided.

"You know you can tell me when you're upset," he spoke at barely a murmur. She could feel his neck vibrating as he did, "I don't mind listening. I don't mind being here."

"I know," she responded, "I just don't like being like this – weak. I hate weakness and I didn't want you to-to think that I was pathetic and I'm so self centred and..."

"Lexie Grey – you're the strongest, most beautiful, most selfless and- ," he chucked "- organized person in my life. Nothing can make me think less of you."

She smiled against his neck, soothed by the knowledge that Jackson would always be there for her.