Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for a crazy mind.

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews. I was nervous over the last chapter, and I'm even more nervous over this one. I've had this done from the start, but I muddled over this countless times, too afraid to post it sooner. Don't be afraid to tell me you didn't like it. Anyway, please, let me know what you think! (:

They stood like that, with her wrapped safely in his arms, for what felt like an eternity. It was odd for Mark, to feel so content in just holding someone, but as he felt Lexie's hot breath on his neck, felt her fingers grip onto his bare back, Mark realized that this was right. Holding her close, protecting her, it stirred something inside him. It made him feel good, as if what he was doing now could really help her – save her.

It was an unrealistic thought, simply holding someone could not save them from the distressing reality they lived in, but at this moment, Mark felt as if he could, and would eventually, save Little Grey.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed feeling her so close to him, her heartbeat steady against his own, when he heard her sigh deeply. Slowly, Lexie reluctantly pulled away, stepping out of his arms. She looked at him, her eyes not revealing any emotion, and saw the despair in his eyes.

She tried to smile. "I don't want you to look at me like that," she whispered. "I…I don't need you to…pity me."

"I don't pity you. I…feel sad. In general. And I think it's best I feel that instead of the anger that I'm trying to keep hold of. Because, as much as I like the image, I don't think you'd appreciate Hunt having to work on your…on Thatcher."

The way he had said it, so harsh and factual, Lexie found herself relieved that he felt like that. It was shameful to think she wanted him to feel the need to hurt her father – he was after all still her father – however, the way he said it, so incredibly protective, it made Lexie feel warm inside, sending a blush to her cheeks.

"I don't want you to do anything stupid," she said, her eyes avoiding his.

"Beating the crap out of him isn't a stupid thing to do, Lexie."

Lexie looked over Mark's shoulder, focusing on the wall behind him as tears pricked her eyes. The rational side of her mind was telling her that Mark was right, that she should allow someone to hurt Thatcher like he had done with her, but the emotional side, the side that sounded much like her mother's, was telling her that he was still family. He was her family, her blood. You shouldn't hurt your family.

Her voice came out as a choked whisper, "He's still my dad."

Mark shook his head. He could feel himself getting worked up, but he wouldn't shout at her. It was clear what she thought, that Thatcher was still her family, and you protect family members – he felt the same way when it came to Derek, after all – but had she forgotten that he had hurt her? That it didn't matter that she was his family, his daughter, his blood – he had purposely hurt her.

"He should never have laid a hand on you."

Lexie blinked, trying not to cry. "He's the only family that I have. M-Meredith doesn't care. I…I don't want you to hurt my family."

"Lexie," Mark said, his voice stern. "I won't touch him. I want to, but I won't." He paused for a moment, attempting to bite his tongue, but then, as always, decided against it. She needed to hear this, and they needed to talk about this. "Have you ever thought that although you may care about family, that he doesn't give a shit? If he cared, he wouldn't have hurt you."

Lexie shook her head and took a step back from Mark. "No…" Her face trembled as she desperately tried to remain calm. The hope of doing so was quickly deteriorating. "I…No. I…I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"We have to talk about this sometime," Mark reminded her.

"No…"

Mark watched as a tear slipped down Lexie's cheek and instantly he felt bad. He shouldn't be making her cry, he knew that, and yet for some reason, he knew this was good for her. Talking about it…He knew all too well that she shouldn't keep this to herself. It didn't matter that the look on her face would haunt him, he had to help her, and this would help.

He steeled himself for her reaction, and then continued. "Unlike you, he didn't care that you're his family. When he beat the crap out of you, I'm sure he wasn't worrying about family like you are now."

His biting words stopped her tears. A chill ran over Lexie and she stared at Mark, her eyes wide in horror. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he insisting on talking about this? Couldn't he see how upset she was, how afraid she really felt? Lexie opened her mouth to speak, but no words formed. She wanted to shout at him, to let out the emotion that was building up inside her, making it feel as if she was going to explode at any second, but then, she also wanted to run. Running would keep her from his mean words. It would protect her, it would stop him, it would give him no time to think. Or she could…

Rushing towards him, her body crashed into his. Fingers flying over his skin like fire: hot, quick, powerful, desperate. Her lips smashing into his, forcing him to feel her, accept her. Frantically, Lexie kissed Mark, needing this to stop him.

It didn't.

"Lexie…" Mark said, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Lexie, stop." Prying himself away from her, he held her at arm's length. He watched carefully as she stared at him, shock displayed clearly on her face.

He sighed heavily; he never realized how confused Lexie must be. Did she really think sex was all he was capable of? Right now, he wanted to help her, not sleep with her. Of course, he had his weak moments, but he was human. He was only human.

"Lexie…We…" He sighed as he watched her look down at her feet. "I'm sorry."

She felt the defeat hit her in waves and suddenly she realized that she was still half-naked. She was half-naked, bruised and battered, and had just been rejected. Lexie blushed – whether it was from embarrassment or anger, she wasn't exactly sure – and moved around Mark to the couch. She picked up the blanket that was draped over the top of it, and wrapped it over her small frame.

As soon as she felt the warmth cover her, it was as if her mind cleared. Lexie hadn't realized what she was doing. Through all the thoughts that were running through her mind, all the emotions that were desperate to burst, the thought of continuing with what she had planned – actually sleeping with Mark Sloan – it was now overwhelming.

Sensing her worried thoughts, Mark sighed softly and walked over to her. Slowly wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he began to lightly rub her arm. "How about we take you to bed?" He asked gently.

Lexie nodded and they started towards the stairs. This was a change, a side of Mark she had rarely seen and for him to act this way now, it was all too much for her. She knew it wouldn't last long. The thought saddened Lexie. For once, she wanted to be with a man that didn't change his actions when they were around other people. George had done that, he had ignored her and her feelings for him when they were at the hospital. Lexie knew Mark would be like that.

Opening the door to her room, Lexie flicked on the switch. Her eyes zoned onto her bed and a sudden fatigue washed over her. It had been a long day and an even longer night, all she needed now was sleep. She made her way over to her bed and sat on the edge. She looked at Mark and noticed that he was standing by her door, a strange, faraway look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

Mark's eyes snapped into focus, and he tried to smile. "Nothing."

Lexie raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe you."

Mark sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his head. "It doesn't matter," he said in a hurry. "Just…Just get some rest."

Lexie shook her head. "No." He had wanted to talk to her earlier, why couldn't he now?

"Lexie," Mark said desperately. "Just, just go to bed. We can talk in the morning." He looked around the room and then turned around, heading towards the door.

"Where you going?"

Her question had been said in a rushed, anxious voice and it made Mark's stomach drop. She was afraid. He knew that. And yet, his hand was on the doorknob. "I'm going downstairs to put on my shirt. Then, I'm going to walk out of the house and see you at work tomorrow."

"You can't."

"Lexie..."

Lexie wanted to rush to her feet and go over to him, to turn him around and hug him. She wanted to do something to stop him from leaving, but for some reason, she was stuck in place. Previously, when she had wanted to stop him from talking, she had kissed him. It was stupid, and useless, but that was all she could think of. Now, she wanted to stop him again, but she couldn't move. She couldn't move. All she could do was talk.

"He used to come into my room. When I was asleep."

Mark's hand tightened on the doorknob. Great, now she wanted to talk. When all he wanted to do was leave and forget he nearly slept with her, she wanted to talk. He thought he could, he had wanted to believe that he could do this but…He really couldn't handle this.

"H-He would think I was asleep," Lexie said, her hands clutching the blanket around her. "I, I was awake. Of course I was. He doesn't know how to open a door quietly and, and he would slam the door shut, not caring that I was trying to sleep. He would trip on the rug and curse and it was just so loud that no-one would be able to sleep through that. He…He never realized how loud he was."

Lexie saw the muscles in Mark's tense and she wanted to stop. He didn't need to know this. It would ruin the image he had of her. She didn't know exactly what he thought of her, but if he knew everything, then he would see her differently. She knew that, but she had started now. There was no way she could stop.

"My door creaks. I don't know if you noticed it, but it creaks. I, I would lie in bed and hear the door creak and I would know that…that something was going to happen. Er, he would normally stand there. W-Where you are now. He would s-stand there and…and watch me sleep and I would clutch at my blankets and hope he didn't realize my breathing was erratic, because then he would come and sit down on my, my bed and I hated when he...did that."

Mark wanted to move. He didn't want to be standing where Thatcher had stood so many times before. But, he couldn't bring himself to move. He wanted to walk out the door, run down the stairs and leave. But then....he wanted to turn around and embrace Lexie, hold her body close to his and make her stop. She didn't want to talk. Why was she talking now? Did she feel like it was necessary, that it was the only way he would care? Mark didn't know. He didn't know what to do.

Mark squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them abruptly. It all came crashing down on him. Her door creaked. He would sit on her bed. At night. And watch her. Suddenly, he felt sick. Slowly, he turned around to face her. He leaned against the door. She looked so tiny, wrapped up in the large blanket. Her hands were small and white and were gripping onto the blanket like her life depended on it. His eyes swept across her face and Mark realized he had never seen someone so beautiful before.

He was about to open his mouth to tell her she didn't need to say anything else, but then she continued before he got the chance.

"Sometimes he would just sit at the foot of my bed and tap my foot. I…I've never really understood why he does that, but then, when you're drunk you do stupid things..." Lexie paused, a small frown on her face. "He...would run his hand up my leg. And, and I would want to...hurt him. To really hurt him so he would just stop. I know that he's my family, and I don't want any harm to come to him, but when he…did that, I wanted to hurt him so much. But…I never tried to kick him. I-I never tried to fight back and I know it's stupid, and I know I'm stupid and pathetic and weak, but I just thought he would stop. That he would realize that I'm his daughter, his little girl, and that he would just...stop."

Lexie looked up at Mark and swallowed nervously, her eyes watery and afraid. "I always wondered if he realized that it was me in the bed. And not someone else. Maybe…Maybe that would explain it. That it was the drink doing it to him, p-playing mind games on him, and it wasn't what he wanted. He never wanted to hurt me. He would never want to hurt me. He would never remember the next day…so, he…he never wanted to hurt me."

"Lexie..."

Mark's voice was harsh, strangled, barely containing his emotions. He looked at her with a pleading face. She knew he wanted her to stop, but she couldn't. She hadn't told anyone this and it had been eating at her – all her questions, all her thoughts, the memories, the clear images that plagued her mind. She had begun and now, there was no way in stopping it.

"He never..." Lexie stopped, her eyes snapping up to Mark's. "Do you remember that night I came into the ER?"

How could he forget, the white gauze covering her cheek had been burnt into his memory. "Yes."

"He had come into my room that night," Lexie whispered, the tears threatening to spill. "He had thought I was Ellis."

Mark watched silently as she brought a hand up to wipe at her face. He should be next to her. He should be comforting her. Mark knew this, and yet he was...afraid. Unlike before, he was now afraid that if he touched her, she would break. And so, he stood there, back against her bedroom door, waiting until she made an indication that she wanted his comfort.

"He said I was never home, that I chose the hospital over our family. Of course, I knew he wasn't talking to me, about me." Lexie let out a shaky breath, and felt her bottom lip shaking. "He kept shouting at me, and I was so scared. I, I just wanted him to leave but he never did that so I just kept praying that he would hit me." She let out a small laugh, her nose scrunching in distaste. "How sick is that? That I was actually pleading with some kind of God for my father to punch me so that I could be alone again. But...But…" She began shaking her head, her body trembling, the sobs threatening to flow out. "Mark..." Her voice was strangled, but somehow she managed to choke out the words through her sobs. "H-he was on top of me."

She couldn't go on. Her chest heaved, trying to catch her breath, as tears ran down her cheeks. Her mind flashed with the images of his face, red, trembling, violent. Lexie looked at Mark and as soon as she opened her mouth to speak again, he jolted into action.

It didn't matter that he could be making things worse. It didn't matter that he was afraid to comfort her, in case she was too scared to be touched by him. All that mattered was that he was there. He knew and he hadn't run in the opposite direction.

He could handle this.

He could do this.

Mark sat down on the bed next to her and slowly snaked his arms around her. Relief flooded him when she moved closer to him. "You don't need to say anything else," he whispered. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Lexie tried to slow down, but it didn't seem to be working. Her body heaved against his and she held onto him as if she was drowning. "H-He…He came at me with a…broken beer bottle."

His arms tightened around her, his body slightly rocking hers. "I know. I know."

"I'm so sorry. I-I'm so sorry," she whispered, her breaths becoming more regular. "I'm sorry."

"Don't."

"I should have told you. I should have told you. I should have–"

"Stop it," Mark said as he rested his head on top of hers. "You have nothing to apologize about. So stop it."

"I denied it," Lexie said as moved to wrap her arm around his waist. "I shouldn't have. I…I guess I was...afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"I, I don't know...I was afraid you'd...think less of me." Lexie shrugged, her head hurting, "I don't know."

"You realize that's crazy."

Lexie sighed softly, enjoying the feel of his warm skin against her cheek. "I know."

Mark glanced down and saw her eyes were closed. He rubbed her arms lightly. "You should get some sleep."

Lexie held onto his waist tighter. "Mmm."

"I need to leave."

"You don't need to leave. You think it's best to leave."

Lexie pulled away from him before carefully opening the blanket slightly. She then wrapped her arm around him, with one side of the blanket securely in her hand. She pulled her other arm around him, allowing for the blanket to be draped around both their bodies. When she had first moved, Mark had let go of her and allowed his arms to rest on either side of his body. Because of his position, Lexie smiled slightly and snuggled up to his arm.

Her naked chest now against his arm.

Mark swallowed, he could feel her, really feel her, and he knew the sensible thing would to move and leave the room. She had been through a lot today and she had tried to initiate something between them and that idea had failed. It had been the correct decision because Mark knew, if they had continued, she would feel so much guilt in the wake of it. He should leave. He shouldn't be in this position, it was not a safe position, and he knew that.

But he didn't want her to be alone. Not anymore. He licked his lips, still contemplating what to do, and then slowly removed his arm. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side.

Lexie smiled shyly and slowly brought one hand to rest against his waist, her fingers delicately resting against the waistband of his jeans. "Are you going to leave?"

He didn't even have to think it over. "No," he replied. "Not anymore."