The door slammed shut behind him, locking Alex away from the cold December air.
He flung off his pea coat, throwing it onto the couch with such force it slid onto the floor.
Alex stomped into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, knowing in the back of his mind that he had to stay hydrated. He drained the glass in two gulps. Looking down at the empty glass, all rational thought left him and Alex hurled it as hard as he could at the wall.
The shattering sound it made was cathartic and before he knew it, Alex was throwing glass after glass.
As his arm wound back for the fourth or fifth time, he caught a glimpse of the hot pink mug in his hand. He paused, holding it in front of his face.
A choked sob rose in his throat as he recognized the pink script across the front - "I'm only a princess after I've had my morning coffee". The mug had been one of his Christmas presents from Jo, in the early years of their relationship.
Alex clutched the mug tightly in his hand and walked slowly from the kitchen.
He stood in the middle of their living room, unable to move. Everything in the house was a reminder of her, of them.
The throw pillow that Jo held when she watched a sad movie. The weird purple stain on the carpet from where Alex had trampled Natalie's crayons.
The tiny rain boots by the door. The Harvard Med School sweatshirt on the hook.
The photos.
God, the photos.
Him and Jo.
Jo and Nat.
Him and Nat.
Nat. Nat. Nat.
They were everywhere.
Letting the mug fall to the couch, Alex bolted up the stairs, hoping he could escape his own mind.
But it was worse upstairs.
The bedrooms.
Little Pip's with it's pink-canopied "big girl" bed and toys strewn everywhere. The pieces of computer paper with her scribbles on them. More pictures of Nat with her Grey-Sloan family.
His and Jo's with its unmade bed; the place where they had made Natalie and the new baby that he had only known about for three weeks. The clothes and books and make-up covering every surface. The watch from Mrs. Schmitt that Jo had been meaning to get a new battery for. The sonogram still tapped to their mirror from her surprise announcement.
Alex barely made it to the bathroom before he lost the contents of his stomach. He white-knuckled the cold porcelain until he was dry heaving.
Pushing away from the toilet, he ran the water as hot as he could stand it and splashed his face. Alex caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.
His eyes were bloodshot and he was pale. He looked like he had aged 10 years in the past 6 hours.
Suddenly, he heard a pounding at the front door.
He slammed his fist into the doorjamb of the bathroom and went back downstairs.
"Alex! Let me in!" Meredith's muffled shouts were punctuated by her hits to the door.
"Fuck off, Meredith!" Alex shouted, throwing a pillow at the door, even though it didn't do anything.
"No way!" Meredith shouted back, "You have to let me in, Alex."
"The fuck I do," Alex took off one of his sneakers and hurled it at the door. It connected with a loud noise and Meredith was silent on the other side.
Until there was the scratching sound of her keys turning in the lock.
She poked her head cautiously inside, "What the hell did you throw at me?"
When he didn't answer, she looked down and saw the dirty Nike on the floor.
"A sneaker? Seriously?" Meredith crept inside and shut the door quietly behind her.
"Get out of here Meredith," Alex snapped, kicking off his other sneaker and letting it fly into the wall. It left a black scuffmark.
Meredith looked around and spotted the pile of broken glass in the kitchen, "Oh, Alex..."
Alex rounded on her, "Don't. Don't 'oh, Alex' me." He jabbed his finger in her direction, "It's *your* fault Jo and Pip are dead. She was picking up *your* kids. She never would have been in the car if you had just gone for your own damn kids."
Meredith's eyes widened and she sighed, "Alex, you know-"
Alex punched the nearest wall, "MEREDITH! Shut up!"
Meredith watched as Alex punched the wall again, sending a fine dust of plaster floating to the floor.
"Have you eaten anything?" She asked quietly, knowing the answer was probably no since he had already been at work for hours when he got the call.
Alex didn't answer, his forehead was resting against the wall and Meredith could see his shoulders shaking with the effort of holding in his emotions.
Meredith gently set her bag on the floor and moved soundlessly into the kitchen to make Alex a sandwich.
As she worked, Alex sunk to the floor. He was sitting with his back to the wall and his arms wrapped around his chest.
He looked like a lost child.
"Alex?" Meredith put the sandwich on the coffee table in front of him, "You have to eat."
"Not hungry," he grunted.
"I don't care. You have to eat," she challenged.
"I'm not fucking hungry, Meredith," Alex snapped. "My wife and 3-year-old daughter are dead. I don't want a goddamn sandwich."
Meredith sat cross-legged on the floor across from Alex, "Fine, don't eat. But you'll have to eventually."
"I just want to forget that this is my life now," Alex ground out, eyes filling with tears.
"Alex..." Meredith sighed sympathetically. Her heart broke for her friend. Just because Derek had been dead for 6 years didn't mean she didn't miss him every day. At least she still had her kids.
She knew just how difficult his life was about to get.
"Come to my place," she said, "Get some sleep."
Alex shook his head, "No. I'm staying here. I can't...I'm not you, Mer."
On a normal occasion, Meredith would've gotten angry at his remark, but not today. Today she just crawled forward and hugged Alex around the neck.
"I'm a phone call away, Alex." She said, "Call if you need anything. I mean it."
He nodded, and Meredith could feel warm tears falling onto her neck. She pulled back from the hug and gathered up her bag without saying anything else.
Alex didn't react as the door closed and he stayed sitting against the wall for a few more hours.
He let his tears fall as he thought about his baby girl. The tiny toddler that was all Jo, from her hair to the cold little feet that she liked to press against his calves because he always made fake gasping sounds. That little baby girl that worshiped her daddy.
Alex's shoulders shook with his gut wrenching sobs.
His baby girl wasn't going to grow up.
Alex hiccupped and wiped at his nose as he thought about Jo.
God, what the hell was he supposed to do? Everything in his world reminded him of them, of what he had lost.
A splotch of color caught his eye and Alex crawled over to the couch. He stuck his hand under and pulled out Natalie's ratty pink baby blanket.
"Oh god," he moaned, his sobs coming harder. Alex held the blanket in his hands, thinking about Natalie and how she wouldn't go anywhere without the blanket. It had been dragged through mud, sand, water, everything.
Jo even had to distract their daughter with games and Popsicles while the blanket went through the wash cycle.
Now, Alex held the soft fabric to his nose, inhaling the scent that was part baby powder, part Cheerio, part Jo's shampoo, and all Natalie.
He curled into a ball on the floor with the blanket pressed to his face.
Meredith found him in that position the next morning. She bit her lip at the sight and moved to start cleaning up the broken glass in the kitchen.
She made him eggs before gently nudging him awake.
"Alex?" She whispered, "You have to eat something."
He grunted as he opened his eyes, "Mer?"
She smiled sadly at him, "Yeah, come on."
She tugged on his hand, pulling him to his feet. Meredith noticed the pink fabric clutched in his hands. She recognized it as Natalie's blanket.
Alex suddenly let out a humorless laugh.
"Alex?"
He continued to laugh, "Look at this, the widow Grey and the widow Karev. Isn't this fucking hysterical?"
Meredith rubbed at his shoulder and didn't say anything.
"I quit, Mer," Alex said, stopping short, "I quit. I'm not coming back to Grey-Sloan."
"Alex! Don't make a decision like that so quickly," Meredith sighed.
"I'm done. I won't go back there," he frowned. "I can't... that's where Pip was born. I can't save other people's babies when I couldn't save mine."
His eyes caught on a picture tacked to the fridge. Shooting his hand out, Alex snatched it.
Jo, two years younger and exhausted looking, smiled up at him. Natalie, a year old, had her hands smashed into the birthday cake in front of her.
Alex crumpled to the floor, picture in his hand, and Meredith couldn't get him up this time.
A/N: *ducks and covers* oh my god don't be mad at me! I am so sorry! Writing this was insanely painful, as I hated making Alex suffer like this. But I do hope you guys enjoyed it.
Drop me a review and let me know what you think? :)
