It was just compensation for what I lost.

A momentary lapse after losing her.

I told her I bailed all the time and that this time I wouldn't, but after hearing that, I hadn't stopped to listen.

I had slipped out of the elevator doors before they shut again, my heart pounding in my ears.

I bailed again.

Because I wanted.. what I wanted.. was a life with her. Between the two of us. Our own baby. Our own.

To think she'd sleep with him again. They retreated to each other so quickly, it's infuriating. And now they're having a child together and what we had has now been rendered useless, void, nothing.

What was it about him that always had her going back?

Of course, that's something I could never understand. Because I wasn't there. I'm never there. Was I ever there?

I stared up at the bunk bed above me, laying there in idleness. Why was I still here? I don't even know. I should be in Africa. I should go back, I should-

I heard the door click open and shifted to see who it was.

"D-doctor Robbins?" she asked, timidly, slipping in and closing the door behind her.

I shouldn't have slept with her.

"What is it, Grey?" I asked.

"If you needed me, you should have paged me," I continued, not meeting her eyes. I looked back at the plain wooden boards that identified the bottom of the top bunk, reaching my hand up to graze the chipping wood.

I shouldn't have slept with her.

"That's not it," she told me, and I saw her shaking her head in the corner of my eye.

"I think we should- um, we should talk about last night.." she said, with a tone of hesitancy.

I sighed. Here it comes. What did it mean?

"Am I gay now?" - Straight girls always shot me that question after a drunken night.

Dammit, I shouldn't have slept with her.

I was bad at this. I hadn't done it in such a long time.

But there was something about her, something about us. Maybe it was the way she trembled beneath me. Or the way she looked when she cradled my cheeks with her gentle hands, looking up at me with those wide, brown childlike eyes, remarking that I had looked so sad and sullen, so tired and worn. So defeated. I felt that way and I thought that maybe she saw it too.

Perhaps it was my drunken state that made me so vulnerable, so easy for her to see through.

It didn't take long to have her panting, though. To settle her inquiring guise and make her tremble for me in its stead.

I sat up and shifted my body in her direction.

"I know. I was drunk, you were drunk. We were both drunk. And sad. And we slept together. And you're not gay. I get it. It was a mistake, but it was a one-time thing. We can move past it and get over it because-"

"I liked it!" she yelled out, cutting me off.

I stopped.

It felt like my heart skipped a beat. I don't really know why. Was it because I was lonely and hurt? And this girl in front of me took it all away for a moment?

"You what?" I asked.

"It was my first time, um.. being with a woman," she continued, her eyes shifting everywhere in an attempt to completely avoid my own.

"And?"

"And what?" she asked me, finally meeting my gaze.

I couldn't help but feel angry.

Was I just everyone's test subject now?

"I don't know, Lexie. I don't want to be anyone's freaking excitement anymore, I'm done with that. I'm done with newborns. I'm done with this damn hospital.. I'm.."

"Arizona.."

"I'm not your god damn substitute for Mark!" I yelled.

Her dark eyes widened in shock. And something else. She looked hurt. I didn't know what to say. I just kept looking at her, watching her expression fall. She was so expressive. In sex too, I remember that. Incredibly expressive.

Her breathing would falter and speed up without regard to anything else but her body's reaction to my touch.

It was.. kind of..

She looked down at her feet and shifted them awkwardly.

"I.. I know that. You're not. Isn't that what.. what we agreed on? I'm not Callie, you're not Mark. We agreed on that," she told me, still staring at her feet.

"We were drunk, but we agreed on that. And I .. well, I liked it. And I don't think you're Mark, you're not Mark, you're-" she continued.

What was it that I wanted to hear?

Something snapped with those words.

I reached up quickly and snatched her hand in my own, grabbing her shoulders and throwing her on top of the bed I was previously laying on before climbing on top of her.

She seemed startled and I could hear her breath already hitching. Her wide eyes looked so innocent, so shocked (as if this were an unexpected gesture, maybe it was). It calmed me to the point of reasoning, yet made my libido rage. And something else. Her vulnerability made me so angry.

"Okay. So we were drunk. And you liked it. And I'm not Mark. What do you want? Tell me, and look at me while you're saying it," I told her, pushing her further into the bed for emphasis.

"I, uh, I.." she stuttered, keeping her gaze locked on my own.

Her eyes darkened, but they were shining - glistening, almost. It took a lot not to kiss her again. Lexie Grey's eyes were not like hers, they were her own. They didn't remind me of things I've lost, things I've walked away from. They were timid, scared, hurt.. they needed protecting, fixing. She was just as hurt as I was, but they were excited. They were full of want.

I loved the way her eyes looked, though they were so plain at times. They were expressive, just like everything about their owner.

"What do you want?" I whispered, leaning into her, almost grazing my lips against her own.

"I-I don't really know. I .. just want to feel the way I did last night," she whispered, throwing her head back as my lips grazed her neck.

I traced her pulse point with my tongue, feeling her tremble again.

She was using me to feel good. And I was using her... for what? To feel like I had some kind of power, some control over my life.

I sat up on the bed and pulled her up in a sitting position, slipping off her lab coat and throwing it somewhere near the door. I look off her scrub top, chucking it in the same direction when she started to grab against my scrub top, attempting to take it off in the same way.

Stupid girl, I thought, and I grabbed her hands and slammed her back down on the bed.

She looked startled again, her eyes reflecting her fear.

"Are you afraid?" I asked, slipping my hands behind her to stroke her smooth back and unhook her bra.

"Yo-you're being a little rough," she told me, honestly.

I laughed. She was so honest.

"I won't hurt you, Grey. Or would you rather stop?"

"N-no, don't stop," she told me, so I slipped off her bra and threw it somewhere behind me.

I didn't taste her, I just watched her expressive features as she came against my hand again and again. It was pure ecstasy written on her face, and I couldn't help but feel turned on as she grunted my name.

I let her grab at my hair, but I didn't let her touch me. If she touched me, I think I'd let some kind of self-control go. I couldn't give that to her. I already lost too much to give her anything in return besides the sex that she wanted.

That night at the bar was replaying in my head, and I thought it was okay to let it continue. I thought it was okay to touch her and give her what she wanted, just for now. I didn't have anything to lose, so why not?

After she came for the last time, I walked over to the door and picked up her scattered clothing, throwing them on top of her.

"Go check on Timmins in Room 405," I told her, pushing my hair back.

"H-huh?" she asked. She looked surprised, but quickly threw on her clothes and nodded her head furiously.

"Yes, Doctor Robbins. Um, should I-"

"I'll be there shortly," I told her.

"Okay," she said, and she didn't look at me, but simply walked past me, rushing to exit the on-call room.

I stood where I was and watched the bed as she walked past me and I continued to stare at it even as she left the room.

I felt a little empty because I knew she was right.

She wasn't Callie. That much was true.

And I wasn't Mark.


I probably won't continue, I have an idea of where to go, but I'm terrible at keeping up with multi-chapter fics. I just wanted to try AZ's perspective.