Author's Note: For those of you reading this story, thank you! I realize it isn't a happy one and for some of you that is a turn off. In the past, I would have been right there with you. Life is gloomy enough without reading about sorrow. Strength and beauty often come from sorrow though. You have to take the bad with the good. In the case of this story, there seems to be a lot of bad. There have been several deaths. Three to count. The characters are what most would consider minor but the impact of their deaths effect our favorite main characters in a huge way. Callie and Mark lost their son, while Meredith and Lexie lost not only their sister but their brother in law and now there is the question of who will raise the daughter that was left behind. There is also the horrible fact that all the deaths are connected. Plenty of bad right there, huh? You might be asking yourself what good can come from all that? Here is one thought: Izzie was there. A pregnant Izzie who wanted to tell Alex she had used the embryos but didn't know how.

Side Note: Thank you to the reader who supplied Molly's last name and the name of Mark and Callie's little GIRL! I revised the first chapter and will keep the information filed away. Thank you guys so much! I enjoy all sorts of feedback. It helps me grow.

Chapter Two

You were so scared…

The ache started small. Just a tiny prick in the pit of Lexie's stomach. Slowly it manifested, oozing into every nook and cranny of her soul. It was a monster of an ache. One that clawed, ripped, and devastated. She wanted it gone. Just for a moment. That was all she needed. One moment where she felt nothing. Tequila had done the trick in the past but not this time. It numbed her enough to work up the courage to call a cab and give the driver the directions to Mark's house. He probably wouldn't be home. It was Friday night. That meant "family" night with Arizona, Callie, and Sofia. Lexie didn't give a shit. If Arizona, Callie, and Sofia were at Mark's they could leave. And if Mark wasn't home, Lexie would wait. She needed something, someone, to ease the pain.

She threw a couple twenties at the taxi driver when the cab rolled to a halt outside the tall, gray building where Mark lived. Raising her head, she looked up. A single light was glowing from Mark's apartment. Good. Someone was there. Hopefully just him. She wasn't sure she wanted Arizona and Callie to see her fall apart and beg. Arizona wouldn't have been so bad, but Callie was another story. There was no love lost between them. In Lexie's eyes the other woman had manipulated and used Mark to conceive a child so she could lure Arizona back. That probably wasn't how it had happened but it made Lexie feel better. It hurt less than thinking about Mark carelessly making love to another woman when he had always been careful with her.

"Please be home," she softly begged as she tapped her trembling fingers against the smooth, metal door. Her heart started to beat wildly as footsteps drew closer. When the door opened he appeared just as haggard as she felt. She didn't stop to question why. Her mind needed a rest. A break from the pain. She knew of only one way to achieve that. Without stopping to ask if he was alone, Lexie wound her arms around his neck and rose on her tip toes to crush her mouth against his. He responded the way she knew he would, by slipping his tongue past her lips and his hands beneath her light pink tank top. Instantly the top was yanked upward, exposing her creamy flesh. A needful whimper filled the back of her throat as, next, her jeans were forcefully tugged down her legs. It should have been frightening, how determined he was to get her naked. It was anything but. She found the dominance exciting; a welcome break from the pain of the evening. If her mind was wrapped up in letting Mark fuck her, she wasn't thinking about the funeral plans that needed to be made, as well as who would get custody of Emily.

With just as much determination, Lexie fumbled with the snap and zipper of his faded jeans. She let out a frustrated growl when the zipper stuck, unable to move against the strain of his erection. Mark batted her fingers away and yanked the zipper down. Her back collided with the same door she had just entered as he simultaneously lift her legs around his hips and pressed into her. Closing her eyes, she let herself feel. Just him. Just the amazing rush of feelings that always flooded her when they made love. As he thrust in and out of her body, she fought back the urge to cry. In giving in to how she felt about him, emotionally, not just physically, she had opened the gate to reality. Molly was gone. Dead. As was Brian. In a couple days they would be buried next to Lexie's mother.

"Oh God," she sobbed, clinging to him harder. Her cries seemed to spur him on. Faster. Harder. In. Out. Until she felt him coming. She waited for him to pull out. To be Mr. Careful as he was always Mr. Careful when they had unprotected sex. He didn't do it. He pressed his face into her neck, an odd wetness scolding the sensitive skin just below her ear. It was then she realized she wasn't the only one crying. Had Derek called ahead? Had he been told of her loss? She wrapped her arms around him tighter, hoping he would do the same. He obliged, crushing her against his chest. Together they slid into a mess of limbs on the floor. "It isn't fair," she whispered. Perhaps talking would ease the pain in a way ignoring and sex hadn't.

"Its fucked up is what it is," Mark choked. The grief in his voice wasn't sympathy, or empathy even. It was real. Raw, uninhibited grief. The tears on his cheeks had nothing to do with her loss and everything to do with some unknown pain he was going through. She reached out and swiped a thumb across his cheek, wiping away the trace of a tear that had just fallen. It would do no good for him to return the favor. Tears trailed down her cheeks at a steady rate. "Stevens is one cold bitch. Telling Callie the way she did. Acting like Sofia was just some name. Some patient."

Confusion warred with Lexie's grief. Sofia? What did Mark's daughter with Callie have to do with Dr. Stevens? Whatever it was, it could wait. Lexie needed Mark to focus on her for a change. Callie and her precious daughter could swamp his time later. "My sister died," she blurted out. "Her and her husband. Some bitch ran a red light and killed them." She spared him the secret gratification that she got from knowing the driver of the other car had lost their daughter. It was sick. It was twisted. And later on Lexie would feel awful for being glad a child was dead. For now she was comforted by the fact that the selfish bitch who had killed Molly and Brian was hurting just as badly as Lexie was. She needed that disgusting ease because while Meredith had cried when she gave she news the tears had quickly stopped. It became painfully clear that Meredith was not as devastated by the deaths as Lexie was.

Mark stared at her for a moment, some unknown emotion rippling across his face. "You should go. Find Avery or Karev or some other guy who can help you feel better." Shock trickled through her veins like ice water. Was he that wrapped up in his faux family with Callie that he couldn't spare Lexie one night? Anger prompted her to yell the accusation at him. Twenty-one months of resentment bubbled out as she accused him of casting her aside for some self-absorbed bitch who used him to get pregnant. She should have stopped there. Had she been in her right mind she would have. Nothing about the night was right. So, against her better judgment, she accused him of not ever loving her. A shriek formed in her chest as he bundled up her clothes and shoved them into her arms. This was not happening. Mark was not choosing Callie and Sofia over her. Not when she needed him! Heartbroken tears mingled with the grief stricken ones. "You think losing your sister sucks? That there is no pain greater? You're wrong. My daughter died. I don't need some little girl break down. I need…" His voice broke off as his reality set in. The confusion that had waltzed with Lexie's grief transferred to him. She clung to her clothes, unsure if she should set them aside and offer him the comfort her had denied her, or if she should dress and leave. He made the decision for her. One by one he gently pried her fingers loose from her clothing and set them aside. For a moment she thought he meant to make love to again. His intentions became clear when he carefully eased her arms and upper body back into the tank top he had so eagerly ripped off before. Another wave of tears burned the backs of Lexie's eyes as she yanked her jeans back and angrily shoved her legs into them. Her anger seemed justified. When they could be helping one another cope he was kicking her out. He had used her; gotten what he wanted and now it was time for her to go. Cold-hearted, rotten bastard. She would have hated him if she didn't still love him so much. She would probably die loving him.