Chapter 14: 6 hours later

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Dr. Grey walked through the doors that led to the waiting room, finding her daughter staring at her. A boy with dark hair was sleeping uncomfortably against her shoulder and the guy next to them was fidgeting nervously.

"Lexie was rushed into immediate surgery after she coded twice. We drained the blood in her stomach and repaired her brain-bleed as well as removing her sub-dural hematoma. She had deep lacerations and a perforated ear-drum, which one of our plastic surgeons fixed. Her heart is still very weak, so she will be kept under observation for a couple weeks. When she wakes up you can see her and the police will come and take hers as well as your statement." Dr. Grey said, looking at the three groggy, tired teenagers.

Meredith let a sigh of relief. She saw her mom begin to walk away. "Wait, mom?" Meredith asked. Her mom turned around. "Yes, Meredith."

"Thank you."

Dr. Grey nodded before exiting the waiting room.

Derek walked up to the reception. "Excuse me.' He asked the nurse. "Could you tell me which room is Lexie Grey's?"

"Room 314."

"Cheers."

Lexie lay in the hospital bed. Her skin frail and delicate. Meredith approached her side and took her hand.

"Meredith?" Lexie quietly.

"Yes, Lexie." Meredith covered her mouth as the tears streaked down her face.

"Mer, what happened. The police just came to take my statement but l couldn't remember anything. Mark turned pale. He knew what happened. He didn't have any proof but he just knew it was Thatcher.

Meredith looked down at Lexie's hand only to discover dozens of red scars that covered her forearm.

"Lexie, what's this?" Meredith gripped her arm so she couldn't pull away.

"I-I." Lexie stuttered. Thankfully the police came and asked to take the other three's statement.

"So according to the paramedics, you found ms. Grey, am l correct?" The officer asked.

"Yeah, l was going to pick her up so we could move into the loft we share with Meredith and Derek. But when l found her she was lying on the floor bleeding." Mark stated.

"Okay, and around what time did you find ms. Grey?" The officer jotted down Mark's previous answer previous answer in his notebook.

"A little after 6."

"Would you happen to know anybody who could have done this to her?"

Mark looked down at his shoes. "Yes." The officer looked at him questionably. "She gets abused. By her dad, and. I think he did this. He's an alcoholic."

"Thank you for cooperating." The officer left letting him see Lexie again, who had just started getting used to her drugs.

"I'll stay with her tonight.' Meredith said, even though she was the one who hadn't slept at all.

"No. You sleep. I'll stay with her. I found her, it's only fair is l make sure she's okay." Mark insisted.

"Okay. Thanks." Meredith and Derek left homeward bound. Mark lay in the cot next Lexie's bed as Lexie mumbled incoherently, clearly enjoying her pain meds.

"You know, Mark? You're like, really cute, like. I've seen you without a shirt by now and it was all, dayum!" She said a little bit to loud.

"You're flattering me, Lex." Mark chuckled, actually enjoying himself after the last terrible 8 hours. Lexie blushed when he used his special nick-name for her. "But it's time to get some sleep, you just went through a huge trauma."

"I know, l know, but l've heard so much about you, All your manwhore ways…" Mark was embarrassed that Lexie knew about his past, well not really his past. His life before she came.

"And l've known your for what? 2 months and a bit now?" Lexie continued. "And you haven't picked up a single girl, like. I think you are an incredibly sweet and hot! Did l mention that? I think l did! Anyway, McSteamy really fits." Lexie giggled happily, as if the 24 hours hadn't even happened.

"Lexie, we should really sleep."

Mark repositioned himself next to Lexie. "Wait, Mark?" She asked softly. "Yeah?" He answered.

"Could you lie in bed with me and stroke my hair? I like it when people do that when l'm hurt."

Mark hesitated for a bit before answering. "Sure." He climbed into bed and she peacefully rested her head on his chest, letting his fingernails softly scrape her scalp. They both fell into a comfortable sleep.

Ellis Grey and Richard Webber stared at the room.

"She had cuts on her arm, Richard." Ellis said softly.

"Ellis, are you okay? Are you sure you're not too close to this, this is your ex-husbands daughter."

"Her injuries, they don't just happen -depression doesn't just happen. I mean everyone has a dark fase during their teenage years, but. Self-harm, Richard?" Ellis shook her head.

Richard returned his eyes to the room in front of them. "You want me to do anything for you?"

"Page a psych consult in the morning, when she remembers." Ellis said coldly. "We're not her parents."

"Owen, honey." Owen's mom approached him, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Mm-hmm, l'm okay." Owen nodded.

"Okay, because your father's funeral is next week, and l thought. -If you want to bring someone. To support you."

Owen looked down at his shoes, before the summer his life was so easy. Parties, good grades, school. His plans were to go to med-school after the year had finished. Then his dad asked if he wanted see what it was like to be a trauma surgeon. "Yeah, thanks mum. I'll, uh, think about it.

Owen walked up the stairs, to his room. Laying down on his bed. How did his life suddenly become so complicated and stressful? Owen ran his hands through his hair, letting his mind wonder. What the hell were his plans for after all of this? There was only one year left of high-school, then his life was up to him. Med-school suddenly seemed like a bad choice. Sure he still wanted to become a surgeon but, just med-school didn't feel right to him. Owen plugged his ear-phones, before closing his eyes, listening to the soft lyrics of one of his favourite singers.

His dad was a trauma-surgeon in the army, defending his country. He trained in the army, leaving straight after high-school, after meeting Owen's mom. Why did that seem like a better choice? He would be leaving everything behind, God knows his mother wouldn't enjoy it. All his plans would be changed. His life would be changed. This was his choice though. It would be a good way for Owen to commemorate his father. Owen closed his eyes letting his mind drift elsewhere.

"Cristina…"

Izzie stood in the middle of the floor of her cramped bed-room. Trailers didn't really have a lot of room. It was just her mother, her and a kitchen.

Denny Duquette was her best-friend growing up. When Izzie lived elsewhere, Denny was the boy next door. They used to play dress up. Izzie always had a crush on him, but they were 8 years old, she had no idea what love even was. One day Denny crossed the street, not paying attention to the huge truck that ploughed him into the street. The paramedics tried their best to save him only to have him throw a clot and die of stroke. Izzie was inconsolable. Then they moved to Seattle.

"Thinking about me, huh?" Denny smirked, acting like it was no biggie that he was back from the dead.

"Denny…" Izzie sat down on her bed and sighed. "How are you even here? You're not real."

"Isobel, l'm very real, look, you can even touch me." Denny held out. Izzie hesitantly reached forward, lightly touching Denny's arm. She let out a breath of relief and panic. "I was at your funeral!" She said. "I saw your coffin being lowered into the ground, and l may have been too young to understand, but l knew you were gone- I know you are gone!"

Denny looked away from Izzie, as if he was a burden to her for coming back. "Don't cry." He said as he looked as tears streamed down her face.

"I'm here for you."

R&R