Warning: Mild Language. Rated T.

A/N: Thank you! Enjoy this next chapter.

Chapter 8

Mark

As soon as Lexie left his room to make the drop for them, Mark turned on his best friend. "What part of discretion are you not getting?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Mark threw his pillow at him. "You have no idea what I am talking about. Trying to have sex with her sister in the freaking supply closet doesn't ring a bell."

Derek caught the pillow with ease. "Relax. It wasn't a big deal."

Mark pinched his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "We had to enlist her help today because we have eyes and ears everywhere, and you think you hooking up with her sister in the closet is no big deal."

"I promise you that if I thought there was a chance that any harm would come to her, I wouldn't have done it."

Mark grunted. "That's just it…in our world, you never know when that harm can come. It's why there's a rule of no personal attachments."

"No, that's your rule," he corrected. "Listen, I get what we do is dangerous. I know that unlike normal people, we have to take extra precautions and safety measures, but I am not going to live my life by shutting myself off from the world."

His eyes darkened with indignation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, that ever since your mother's death, you've been looking for ways to shut people out. Hell, you would probably shut me out if you could."

He wanted to argue that his friend was wrong, but that would mean he would be lying. Because, in part, even though Derek meant the world to him, the thought that any harm would come to him because of what they do, bothered him almost every day.

It was why he had gone lone ranger on his plan to meet with Sergei Anatoly by himself. The FBI command center and been against the plan from the start for a few reasons. One of those reasons being the amount of time, money, and resources put into setting up their identities and covers to infiltrate the crime organizations.

The other reason, being that the risk he would be killed was also very high. He had been reamed out once he had survived, Special Agent in Charge, Tom Summers letting him know that a reprimand would mostly likely be issued in his file. He was fine with that. There was no way they could just pull him out of his cover, and when they realized his plan had worked well enough to not only bring down Anatoly, but singlehandedly giving them the opportunity to get further evidence against the Russian's, both domestic and foreign—was huge.

It didn't change matters, that Derek had been livid with him, and hurt that he had all this planned and left him out. Mark knew that if he had told his brother what he really had planned, he would have either found a way to try and stop him, or find a way to join him. If things had gone south, if he hadn't gotten there in time before Sergei finished the job, he would have to be the one to take over and make sure all of their work hadn't been for nothing.

As awful as their job was, mostly ninety-nine percent of the time, their cover was twofold. Not only were they working their way into finding evidence to bring down every crime operation possible, but they used it under the disguise of protection racketeering. They were the muscle—the bodyguards—from the other crime families that wanted to target business and people in their city. His organization made sure that dangerous individuals in the neighborhood stayed out.

Regardless, he was a hypocrite. If Derek had pulled a stunt like he had with meeting Sergei alone knowing the likelihood he would be killed, he would have wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. The difference between them, was that if Mark died, there would be no one to miss him outside of Derek. If Derek had died, he still had his mother and sisters that would mourn him. So, his looking out for his brother, was him looking out for his family that had been so good to him over the years.

"Bad things happen to people who associate themselves with any Sloan," he said.

Derek let out an exasperated sigh. "That's bullshit and you know it. When are you going to stop punishing yourself for his mistakes?"

"She was murdered. She was tortured. Begging for her life to end to make the pain stop. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save her," he exclaimed.

"You were five. Five! You shouldn't have had to witness that, let alone feel like that burden was on your shoulders. Your bastard of a father is the only one who was responsible for what happened to her. Him. Not you."

He shook his head trying to push the ghosts and demons from that day from his mind. His hands were clenching into fists, the headache he had complained about starting to throb at the front of his mind.

Years after his mother's brutal death had occurred, he had finally found a way to lock those memories behind a door so they didn't threaten to overtake him. Years and years went by, and her murder still had gone unresolved. The cops, the feds, no one seemed to have any leads as to who had been the bastard that had killed her. While the murderer wore a mask, his voice was one that Mark would never forget if he heard it again.

He finally decided to take matters into his own hands, choosing to become a Special Agent, so he could have the resources at his fingertips to try and solve her murder, as well as ensure that no other kid, husband, wife, brother, sister, had to experience what he had to experience what he did when watching her die in front of him.

When his mother had been taken away from him, a piece of him had died that day. Loving her as much as he had loved her, and having her being stripped from him wasn't a feeling he wished on his worst enemy. His father taught him another lesson. It was easy to walk away and not feel if you didn't allow yourself to, or form any personal attachments.

"Don't bring him up," Mark cautioned, desperately trying to move away from this dangerous subject. He didn't like the emotions and feelings that were evoked by thinking about his father.

Frustration overtook Derek's features. "Mark, I say this because I am your brother, and because I love you…but you gotta stop letting him ruin your life."

"I will never get over him taking my mother from me."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

The skin between his eyes furrowed. "What are you trying to say?"

Derek blew out a breath. "I'm saying, if you don't want to be anything like him, then don't be like him. Robert Sloan cared about no one but himself. He loved no one or anything unless it gave him something he wanted. You want to distance yourself from him…then give yourself the opportunity to be happy with someone. Love someone like he never could with your mother or you."

Mark shook his head vehemently. "Your wrong. I am the opposite of him. By distancing myself from anyone, already means that I give a shit about anyone having to be hurt because of me."

Eyebrows met in a stern line over his somber eyes. "No, it doesn't. It means your taking the cowards way out, and you know it."

Mark's cheek twitched—something he did when he angry. "Derek…"

"Fine. I'll drop the subject. You want to close yourself off…you want to let a possible good thing slip through your fingers, that's on you, but don't expect me to do the same," he replied reasonably.

Confusion crossed his features. "Who am I supposed to be letting slip away?"

"You and I both know who. You want to walk away; you do that because it's your decision to do so. Don't hide by him, your job, or the agency."

Mark grunted. "You know, you're a huge pain in my ass."

Derek grinned. "A pain in the ass you love. Now, you get some rest, and I will be back later."

"Where are you off to now?"

A half-smile crossed his face. "To make sure mine doesn't slip away," he answered, before leaving him in his room with just his thoughts.

Next day…

As much as Mark tried to sleep the night before he tossed and turned in the lumpy hospital bed.

Lexie hadn't really visited him after their last talk once she had successfully made the drop. She really wasn't happy about having to discharge him—telling him more than once, patients with similar experiences would be under her care for days—but the feds were pushing for him to get discharged, and he really needed to get back out there to ensure the operation was strong and not in any jeopardy.

Lexie did insist that he had to keep his bandage on his head for at least another day before he could take it off. She only signed off on his release, because the feds—through him—assured that he would have a nurse that would be checking in on him throughout the day.

He thought he could see a hint of a frown that his care was being entrusted in someone else's hands instead of hers. He struggled with himself with the fact that he was leaving today, and that he would no longer see her face, or know that he was in her good hands.

What bothered him more, was the conversation between him and his best friend the day before. The words played over in his head again and again. When Derek had first admitted that he had hooked up with her sister—now officially, Big Grey—he had been angry. Angry that he was going to be so careless to possibly bring her into their world.

Their world was dangerous. Now more than ever with one of his crime organizations making a play to take him out. Sergei Anatoly was dealt with for now—in FBI custody—off in an island that had no communication going in and out. With what he had gotten on Anatoly, he would be going away for life if he didn't start talking and helping out the feds with taking down other crime organizations.

As Mark suspected, Sergei's second in command, Dimitri Belsky had taken over for now. With half of Sergei's top men taken out…they would be in disarray for the next couple of days. That would give Mark the time he needed to recover a bit longer, before he ultimately had to pay a visit and make sure the Russan's understood that if they wanted a chance at all to still play in the field…they now reported directly to him. If/when another leader would be named, would be because Mark allowed it too.

Derek had informed him of what had happen once he had passed out after Sergei had played tick-tac-toe with his arm. Paul, his driver, had gotten word back to Derek. It had taken him longer than expected, Paul just narrowly making out before Sergei's men had almost killed him.

As Derek had promised, he wasn't far, but when Sergei had made him take all of his clothes off—resulting in his cuff links following along with them—he had hoped that his best friend remembered his back up tracking device. The one had had inputted in the chain his mother had given him. He rarely ever wore it…but for times and meetings like this. He just hoped his contingency plan worked since Sergei moved him to the opposite side of the warehouse, where the thick concreate and steel could mess with the signal of the device.

Derek sent a message to the feds, giving him lists of possible places that Sergei could have taken him too, but he chose to stay. Derek's gut had told him he was still here. There were thousands of square feet that would need to be searched with only half of their men in tow with them.

By the time Derek had remembered about the fact he wore the chain for meetings like this, almost four hours had passed since the torture had first begun. The signal had been weak, but they had finally found his location, and got to him just in time.

Even when they had walked in and seen what they had been doing, they still gave Sergei and his men the opportunity to surrender. All of Mark's men knew that Sergei would be left alive for Mark to deal with once he had recovered, but the rest had turned their weapons on Derek and his men. They had hoped the bloodshed could have been spared, but it was his men or theirs. His men came out on top.

Even though the threat was eliminated for now, it didn't mean that others might not follow. Lexie Grey was innocent. She was a woman that he could see himself wanting to come home to every day. Just laying eyes on her already told him that she could be the light to his darkness. The compass to home when it seemed he was drifting farther away from the man he should be.

His job, his work, it was important. He and Derek were able to stop some of the worst weapons, drugs, human trafficking and other illegal activity by doing what they were doing, and anything that was allowed in the city, was at least under whereabouts by the federal government. No one had ever been as successful as this operation currently was, and that success depended on him and Derek being able to keep up with their covers.

After his mother, he had never wanted anything as bad as wanting to be a cop. Wanting to make the world a better place. Help people. Protect people. For the first time since he graduated the academy and started working on the job more than sixteen years ago, he was starting to resent his work. Because that work, meant that he was going to have to walk away from someone, for the first time, he didn't actually want to walk away from.

Mark sighed. Derek had called him a coward. A coward. That word and his name would never ever be one that would be considered within the same category, and even though it made him as mad as hell to hear it…his brother was right. He was a coward.

"You want to close yourself off…you want to let a possible good thing slip through your fingers, that's on you, but don't expect me to do the same," Derek had said.

He still felt strongly about the protective feeling deep in his gut. The one that kept telling him nothing good would come of him wanting to pursue anything with her, even if she wanted to in return. If Derek had to witness what he had too when he was a young boy, maybe he would understand. Maybe he would get why anyone tying themselves to a Sloan meant nothing but trouble.

There was another feeling stronger than that one that was churning inside of him. His job—his cover—made him supposed to be a selfish man, and maybe there were parts of him that was true…but this need, this desire to want, to need, Lexie Grey was something far greater than he had ever experienced before. Even far greater than the vengeance he had always carried around for his mother's death.

He contemplated what to do since Derek left his room. The stronger part; the part that was primal with that desire, kept trying to pin him down to do something for himself for once. To let himself be happy and recapture some of that light he had lost long ago. The other part, the part to protect her, to let her hold onto her innocence and not get tangled into a dangerous mess he was involved in, was clawing at him to walk away.

Every time he had thought he knew what he was going to do, the two sides would begin to clash again, and he wished he could be more like Derek with being brazen enough to just jump in with two feet and not look back.

He turned throwing the last of the little possessions he had with him when he was brought to the emergency room in the large plastic bag, they have given him along with his at patient home care information.

He was glad to be up and out of the hospital bed, even if that meant he had to move slower than normal. At least he was in normal clothes again, the medical gown removed. Derek had left him a few minutes ago, to go and get things settled for when they left, and even though he had pretty much everything packed and ready to go, he was dragging his feet from leaving the room.

"I bet your glad to finally be leaving."

Mark dropped his personal belongings on his bed, turning at the sound of her voice, to see her leaning against the doorframe of his room, her legs crossed by her ankles her arms over her chest. He was wondering if he was going to see Lexie again before he walked away, and now that she was standing here in front of him, he realized he would have waited all day at the chance to see her face again.

"Yes and no," he replied. "I hate hospitals," he said easily.

She smiled. "Most people do. Even some of us doctors like to get away every now and then."

"I imagine it can't be easy having to watch people die all the time, knowing you couldn't do anything to save them."

The corners of her lips turned down. It was probably something she had thought about all the time. "It is. Then again, I'm sure it's something your familiar with too, huh?"

It was, and he was getting tired of it. Tired of juggling it all, and trying to keep any of the plates from falling. He shoved his hands in his pockets, using the back of the bed to sturdy his balance.

He released a ragged sigh. "I wish it wasn't."

She pushed off the door, taking a couple of steps closer into the room, but stopping when a considerable amount of distance remained between them. He was aware it was enough space to keep her out of his arm's length.

She averted her eyes looking to the left of him. "I…I just wanted to come and say good-bye. To tell you to be careful and not to ruin the beautiful job I did fixing your brain," she laughed nervously.

"I'm always careful," he replied, his voice thick with emotion, because he wasn't ready just yet to say good-bye. "But I'll make sure not to mess anything up." He paused for a moment. "I'm actually glad you're here."

Her face turned towards him, her eyes lighting up. "You are?"

The pull was tugging at him again, to stop running and for once try for something. Try and plant his feet somewhere. Looking into her hopeful eyes, it was making his gut churn.

"I wanted to let you know, that Derek and I have managed to keep it under the radar that you know. No one from the FBI should bother you about you knowing as long as you keep it to yourself. A thank you, of sorts, for what you did for us here in the hospital," he advised.

Her face fell a fraction, before she masked it with a half-smile. "Thank you."

She did something that surprised him, and upset him at the same time. She was going to walk away. She looked up and met his gaze steadily, extending out her hand in anticipation for him to take. He looked down at her hand and then back up at her face. She looked so unsure, so sad, and he understood, because he was feeling it deep inside himself.

"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Sloan," she said, unable to keep the sorrow from her tone.

A handshake wasn't really how he wanted their meeting to end, not like he expected that he would get anything else, but shaking her hand—here and now—made it seem as final as it was.

He slipped his long fingers around her much smaller ones, and held onto her hand firmly. The instant contact shot something warm up his arm, and he was certain she felt it too based on her eyes widening, and her chest rising and falling quickly—and indication her heart was racing.

"The pleasure was all mine." He squeezed her hand again, this time causing her to gasp, before her mouth closed instantly.

She blinked, the spell between them broken, as she started to pull her hand back away from him. He didn't want to let go. In that moment, that small moment of just holding onto her hand, his decision had been made. He was going to take Derek's advice. He wasn't going to be a coward, but instead go for it. He wasn't going to walk away this time.

He took two steps forward; it becoming apparent how close they were now standing near each other. He saw her throat move as she took a long swallow, her inability to get her breathing back under control, even though they were no longer touching.

Once he was standing in front of her, he couldn't help but think she looked so small up close. He knew he was looming over her, making her even smaller to his much taller frame.

"Lexie…" he breathed.

Her soft response was a combination of a moan and a gasp and he swore he was ready to combust right here and now if he didn't ensure an opportunity for them to meet again before he left this room. He was certain now that he would not be able to walk away without her agreeing to see him again.

She began a rather breathless, "I'm sorry…I should go." She took a step back.

She was going to bolt and he couldn't let that happen. He knew how bad it could look, if he stopped a small female doctor from being to get past him and towards an exit, but he was desperate, and he couldn't let her go without knowing he was going to see her again. She had already started doing something to his heart for the first time—making it pound like crazy.

"Wait!" he said.

She stopped, her eyes looking up to him, licking her lips nervously waiting for his response.

"I want to see you again. Not as my doctor. I want to see you," he said his voice caring a note of uncertainty. Not that he wasn't certain that he wanted her, but that she wouldn't want him in return.

Suddenly, reality smacked into him and he wondered what the hell had possessed him into asking her to see him outside of the hospital. The entire crime organization was on the potential brink of war, and yet all he could think about was that his neuro doctor with the most beautiful brown eyes and full lips he had ever seen—was about to walk out that door and never see him again.

Damn he had it bad. How the hell did this happen?

"I…I…"

He held his breath waiting for her answer. Never in his life, did he ever have to worry about a woman wanting to turn him down. He hated the feeling, and he hated that she even had to think about it. She had to be feeling this intensity, this energy between the two of them whenever they were near each other. As it was, the air was palpable, so intense as to almost seem intangible.

The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. He should do that, but he couldn't. He didn't want to. So, he did something for the first time he never did in his life: he backed off putting his arms out like he was negotiating a peace deal to keep her from running away from him.

she shook her head. He could see her calculating her response, trying to fight against the rules he no doubt knew were ingrained in her head. He somehow allowed himself to be attracted to a rule follower. His job meant that most times he was anything but for the rules. He'd follow those rules, for her, if that meant he hadn't blown his opportunity.

"Please, Lex, just give me one chance," he pleaded.

His eyes beseeched her. He meant what he said, he was going to back off. He wasn't going to ask again. If she said no, it would suck, but he would force himself to walk away from her. He saw her body do an involuntary shake, no doubt a shiver of sensation cascading through her. It made him all the more want to make sure that she didn't turn him down.

She looked up at him, and when she did, he saw the slight nod there. The most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Okay," she rasped out.

"Okay," he repeated.

A clearing of a throat behind her, had her backing away and springing apart. Derek stood in front of them, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

"Everything is all set. Everything all set here?" Derek asked.

Lexie tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and nodded, moving further away from him. He wanted to punch his best friend in that moment, but he would let it go for now. She had agreed to meet with him and that would have to hold him over for now.

"We're all set," she said.

Just as she did with him, she raised her hand and extended it to Derek to shake, telling him it was nice to meet him. He gave her a knowing smile and a teasing response that he was sure they would be seeing each other again, causing her cheeks to blush.

Derek offered to grab the last of his belongings and advised that he would be waiting for him by the elevator, sensing they needed one more minute between them before he had to walk out the door and away from her.

She was waiting by the door, as he stopped directly across from her, his much taller frame towering over her in the doorway, pinning her against the door.

"I'll call you," he said low, so only she would hear.

She nodded, no longer able to look him in the eyes. It was the toughest thing he had to do at this point, but he forced his feet to move one in front of the other.

"Wait." She looked around to make sure no one was watching them, and then lowered her voice. "Don't you need my number?"

He grinned and winked at her. "I have my resources," he answered, before turning and walking away from Seattle Grace Hospital and Lexie Grey.

A/N: Let me know what you think.