Warning: Rated T for strong language and disturbing scenes that include sensitive situations such as rape. Please be advised before reading.

A/N: Thanks for the constant love.

Chapter 18

Mark

A few weeks later…

24 hours later…

Mark raced up the stairs of Lexie's apartment on a mission. His heart was heavy, and his stomach felt like he was going to pitch everything he ate in the last twenty-four hours, but if he didn't do what he needed to do now, he never would.

He had just hoped that Lexie was home. Both of their work schedules had been crazy the past week alone, so neither of them had planned to meet up tonight. With him needing to meet with command earlier in the day, and she had her usual fourteen-hour shift at the hospital that sometimes had her working later depending on the cases meant they weren't going to see each other again.

He had been so proud of her this last week. She had spent the last few weeks working on a complicated case with a patient who was a ballerina but had an inoperable tumor on her spine. His Lexie had been adamant that she could find a way to remove the tumor without paralyzing her patient. Almost everyone had been against her decision to do this—even her Chief Hunt—but she pushed through anyway.

The surgery had taken almost eighteen hours; but she was talented, as he always knew she was and successfully removed the tumor without any lasting effects to her patient. She would walk and dance again making Lexie famous in her specialty with the opportunity to publish her research for possible future similar cases.

She had been tired—rightfully so—and with both of their schedules, they hadn't really had the opportunity to celebrate her success the way it should have been. Now, as he climbed the stairs to her apartment, his heart ached at the fact they hadn't.

Once he reached the landing he stood there. Each step forward was heavier and heavier, as if he stepped into a big pile of cement and trying to drudge his way out of it.

Once he reached the door, he closed his eyes, and prepared himself before knocking on the door. He raised his hand to knock remembering that one of his arms had been bandage from the incident earlier. In a matter of seconds, it swung open, Lexie standing in front of him, taking his breath away. She was in her normal relaxing attire of sweats and a tank, her hair loose around her shoulders, wet from a shower she must've just taken. So beautiful.

"Mark! What are you doing here?"

Her sweet honey like voice wrapped around him, like a security blanket. How in a couple of weeks could this small, beautiful, talented woman come to mean so much to him? How had she gotten past all of his defenses and wormed her way into his heart.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice rushed and unable to keep the worriedness from hanging there. His Lexie picked it up immediately.

She stepped aside, as he strode in. She shut the door behind him. "What happened? Did something happen in your meeting today?"

Her eyes looked down, the doctor in her immediately noticing the fact that his forearm was wrapped in white bandage. His eyes traveled to his arm. "It's—"

"What happened?" she snapped, taking hold of his forearm to inspect it, stopping him from talking.

He hid the wince as she prodded and poked. The resident medical staff at their command had looked at his arm after he had left the meeting—more like stormed out. He had told him that it wasn't broken, just severely bruised and would be sore and tender for the next few days.

"It's fine, Lex," he assured, gently pulling his arm back from her.

She let his arm go, but her knitted brows and scrunched forehead told him she was not at all pleased to see that he was injured. "What happened?" she repeated again, this time her patience weighing.

He frowned, nodding reluctantly knowing he couldn't keep it from her or sugar coat it. After all, it was why he was here.

"Command hasn't been happy with my performance as of late. They think I'm slipping. They're threatening to pull Derek and I from the field."

She pursed her lips. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would they do something like that? You've been doing this for years, if they pull you out…it could jeopardize the entire operation."

He shook his head. "They found a way that someone could take my place. They would finagle some way to send me off like I wanted out of this life," he said, his voice turning bitter.

She sighed. "Is that such a bad thing?"

His voice was a low growl. "Yes, it would be a bad thing. It's nine years of my life. My blood, sweat, and tears. I have sacrificed a lot for the job. I am not walking away now."

She looked at him helplessly. "That's a long time to do what you have been doing. Maybe you are burned out."

He hated himself for turning his angry expression on her, but he had to make her see that what she was asking, possibly siding with command on what they were doing to him. "Would you walk away from surgery after nine years, just because some days are tougher than others?"

She drew in a gigantic lungful of air. "No, I guess not," she said meekly. "Who did that to your hand?"

"It was an accident," he responded evasively.

She put her hands on her hips, knowing he was purposely keeping the information from her. "What kind of accident?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, deciding it was better to tell her the truth. She at least deserved that. "I may have slammed my hand on the desk and punched a hole in the room after I stormed out."

Her mouth fell open. "Why would you do something like that?" He didn't need to respond when the reason registered across her face, her mouth closing.

"Command may have started this operation, but Derek and I built it. We got them as far as we have because of us. I will not let them think they can sideline me because they have no idea that sometimes the risk is not worth the reward."

Her eyes stared at him desperately trying to understand why he was getting so worked up. "I don't understand. You have faced their pressure before. Why is this so different this time? Why are they pushing so hard against you?"

He didn't know how to make her understand without telling her the entire ugly truth of his past. The reason his mother had really died. He had debated on the way over telling her…but he needed her to understand why he had been so adamant about his rule of no personal attachments. Why in truth he could never have that normal life he had always wanted but never could.

The last couple of weeks with Lexie, had been nothing short of wonderful. She made him want all those things more than he had ever wanted them before. Even going so far as to deluding himself into thinking that he could juggle all the plates successfully and have it all.

He swallowed. "Because this is the one thing, I can do to avenge her since I haven't been able to locate her killer."

"Your mom?"

He nodded, straightening to look her directly in the eye. It was now or never in her understanding. "My father was a gambler and a drunk. He spent all of his free time at the casino pissing away all of our money. When that wasn't enough and the money ran out, he started borrowing from bookies with the mob."

Lexie's face fell. "Oh, Mark."

He rubbed at his face. "He was almost five-hundred thousand in debt with no way to pay them back. For weeks, he would come with all kinds of injuries and bruises, sometimes even a new broken limb. Gave my mother some sob story that he got injured at work and was seeing a doctor in case he was having a medical episode." He paused, is face twisting at this part. "After a while, their patience ran out when he wasn't paying them back. He wasn't taking their threats seriously. They realized he never would. So, they took their payment in another way."

"Mark…" she whispered.

This part of the story was his own personal torment. It was as if someone was stabbing him in the gut over and over twisting until he bled out and there was nothing left of him.

"My bastard father wasn't home, because he was at the casino mortgaging the last of our home, once again betting money he conned from someone. My mom had just given me a bath and was about to put me to bed, when they entered."

She tried to come over to him to comfort him, but he stepped back. Her eyes turned fearful as she looked at him, and maybe they should. Maybe this time, he had finally snapped and gone to far into that deep dark part of his mind that would swallow him whole. Maybe that was what the command was looking for all this time.

He tried not to grimace at the hurt on her face when he refused her touch. She dropped her hand back to her side and waited for him to continue.

"I watched as the two men that broke into our home took turns raping my mother over and over again. They had tied me down, and no matter how much I tried to fight against them, scream, and shout, it did nothing to stop them. I had to listen to her cries, he pleads for death, once they had their fill of pleasure to then move to torturing her." His voice trembled with rage and fury going back to the five-year-old boy he had been. He winced. "I watch the moment he jammed the knife in her chest, as her head turned towards me. I witnessed her take her last broken breath, as the final tears left her eyes."

Tears flowed from Lexie's eyes, as her lips quivered for the boy who had to watch, and the man that carried the memory with him always. Because ever since that day, he was broken, and not matter how much glue or stitches one used to try and put him back together—there was no coming back from those scars. She deserved better than a broken man.

"I sat there until my bastard of a father got home to see the aftermath. He stuck around long enough until Derek's mom came and got me, before he took off and I never saw him again. What happened to her was because of him. Because he was a selfish bastard, and I made a promise to myself that I would never do anything to ever be like him. To ever allow anyone to get hurt because of me."

"You're not your father," she whispered. "You never could be."

He lowered his eyes, unable to look at her. "No…I'm not. Which is why I have to know when to walk away."

She gave him a doubtful look, and his heart squeezed painfully. "What does that mean?"

He let out a long sigh. "It means I can't afford any distractions that would keep me from setting out on the job and promise I made all those years ago," he said sadly.

Her expression turned to one of horror. "No!" she shook her head frantically. "Don't do this. I know what you are going to do. I am asking you not to do this."

He shook his head, aware that it was written all over his face. "I don't have a choice. I have too."

She gaped at him, tears brimming at her eyes. "No. No, you don't. You don't have to choose this. After everything between us. All that we have been through. I could have walked away when I was scared or when things seemed hopeless. I adapted my life and everything around you. For us."

His expression hardened. "I didn't ask you to choose this. I didn't ask you to change your life for me."

She gulped at the harshness of his words. "You didn't, but I still chose you anyway. Because I love you."

He almost faltered. That was the first time she had ever said to him. Before today, he had wondered, hoped that maybe she might love him. Would choose him, and now when all he wanted to do was rejoice in that notion, he was going to turn his back.

He forced his mouth to move and say his next words. "You can't expect me to change my life and my choices because of that. This is my life—all I've ever known. What I do is important, Lex. I need you to understand that."

Her jaw was set; she was ready to fight for him. "Do you love me?"

"Yes." Anything else would have been a lie to each other and to what they had shared.

A stream of tears gently rolled down her eye as realization hit her that this wasn't going to go her way no matter what she said to him. "But not enough to walk away from the danger, so we can be happy together. We could be safe. Because you will choose your job instead of me, won't you?"

He so bad in that moment wished he could be someone else. Be the man that she deserved. When he looked at her again, his resolve was there to do what he had come there to do. He had to make sure that she let him go. "Don't ask me to choose Lex, because... yeah, I will choose the job."

She didn't stop the tears from flowing down her eyes now. "Well, I think that just answered, all I needed to know," her tone heartbroken.

She turned away from him. He was a bastard. In his attempt to be nothing like Robert Sloan, he just proved he was everything like the man that he feared to become. Maybe it was that man he had to become to get the job done. To not care. To show no emotion. To take all that was needed to get the mission done.

"Lex…"

She sighed, before turning away. "You've said all that you needed to say. Please leave," she said, her voice breaking.

Breaking because of you.

"I wish things could be different. I wish I could be the man you needed."

A sob broke through her throat and he had to force himself to keep his feet planted where they were. To keep from reaching out to her and begging for her forgiveness. That he was making a mistake and ask if they could just rewind the entire conversation of the last five minutes and start over again.

"Me too," she whispered into the quietness of the apartment. She took a deep breath before turning half back to see him. "Please go," she sniffled.

He needed to look away, but he just…couldn't. Even as he opened the door, stopping at the entrance before he started to walk away, leaving his heart behind, the murmur of her voice still reached him.

"Good-bye, Mark."

24 hours earlier…

"This is the second time this week command has beckoned us," Derek said, his tone annoyed. "Don't they know it's shit like this that could get us made."

Mark was getting more agitated by the moment. "They don't seem to care."

Up until this past week, things had been good. Things had started to fall into place.

After Lexie had come clean about Addison's visit, told him about her threat and warning for her to walk away from him—saying he was livid was an understatement. She had begged him to not do anything. She had been worried that if he had done anything to Addison because of what she had told him, that it would make things worse.

He couldn't not do anything. Addison had no right coming to her. Coming to anyone that he cared about and making any kind of demands or threats. She had no claim on him—and even if she did—the way their world worked…he was able to do as he pleased.

They were engulfed in illegal activity. Almost any man who was married in the mob had multiple mistresses on the side. Not that it would ever be something that he would be interested in partaking, it was expected in the lifestyle. Woman turned the other cheek as long as they were adorned with money, jewelry, and the finer things in life.

Mark had told Addison repeatedly that nothing was ever going to happen between them. He had told her to leave him alone and stay out of his life, and as far as he was concerned, this was one time she had gone too far. She over reached.

The next day after he and Lexie took their relationship to the next level, he had put her in her place.

"Mark…" her voice trailed off as he stormed over towards her.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Her second in command, Gianni's hand was reaching inside his pocket seeing the fury in Mark's eyes and his hands clenching at his side. Mark looked up at him with his own warning glare to not even think about it. Even if that meant his boss might have to endure his wrath. Addison lifted her hand to wave Gianni off.

"Leave us," she directed to Gianni.

Mark waited until Gianni left the room reluctantly before he unleashed on her. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear that you were to stay out of my personal life. To not bring it up again." he hissed.

She smiled. "I followed your rules, Markie. I didn't bring it up to YOU again."

He snarled. "I said to stay out of my personal life. You have no authority here. You have no business asking any questions, and you certainly have no damn right to go and talk or threaten her." He took a step forward the rage rolling off his shoulders. "You so much as look at her, talk to her again, or even come anywhere near her…and so help me god Addie, I will end you."

She gasped. "This isn't just about you screwing around. You really like this girl."

His eyes narrowed. "Drop it!"

"She isn't like us." she protested. "Does she even know what it is that you do for a living?"

"I am going to say this one final time," he said through gritted teeth. "Do. Not. Bring. Her. Up. Again."

He leveled her with one final stare before he started to walk away. Her words still reached him.

"Mark my words, Markie…you will regret not heeding my warning. That will be on your hands."

After that last visit, Addison seemed to finally get the message. She backed off, and hadn't even so much as looked at Lexie the wrong way. Things the last couple of weeks between him and Lexie were good. More than good.

If she wasn't at the hospital, she was with him. If he wasn't attending to his responsibilities or fielding orders from his command, he was with her. They alternated between his place and hers, but he knew she always felt better at her place.

They eased into their routine of eating dinner together, laughing and talking about anything and everything, and then ultimately taking things to the bedroom where they always strengthen the bond they were building together. After their bodies were sedated, he would hold her close, and wait until breathing slowed before drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

He hated having to leave her this morning, but this was the second time that command was requesting to meet with Derek and him in the same week. As a crime lord, it wasn't uncommon that his every move would be watched. It was dangerous to have to keep ensuring they were dodging tails to make sure they could meet in secret.

"Did they give you any heads up as to why they want to see us this time?" Mark asked, pulling into command's complex.

"They just mentioned requesting an update on the case as well some new information to share."

Mark groaned, but swiped his keycard as he pulled his car into their unground garage. His only enjoyable part these days in coming to command was that he and Derek got to spend a couple of minutes shooting the breeze with agents they had gone to the academy with and didn't get to see on a day-to-day basis.

When they entered the conference room it was only Special Agent Lead in Charge, Tom Summers that was in the room waiting for them.

"Where is Agent Young?" Mark asked.

Tom sighed. "Pulled in to work on another case. It will just be the three of us today."

"And this couldn't wait?" Derek asked. "Until our next scheduled meeting?"

Tom shot him a pointed stare. "No, Agent Shepherd, this couldn't wait."

"So, what is it we need to discuss?" asked Mark.

"They're pushing for results. Major results," Tom answered.

Mark arched a brow. "What kind of results?"

"They want the entire crime organization brought down."

Mark and Derek snorted simultaneously. "You understand what you are asking for is impossible. We do not have enough to bring down everyone. The leaders sure, but you and I both know that if we just take them down someone else will replace them. The goal—"

"The goal has changed," Tom interjected, cutting Mark off.

Derek shook his head. "This doesn't make sense. This operation has gone on for nine years with the single purpose that we would get in deep enough that we could learn everything to ericaite this for good. Why the change now?"

Tom pursed his lips. "Sometimes the reasons are above your paygrade, Agent Shepherd."

"When my life and the safety of all of those undercover in this operation are on the line, I say to hell with your paygrade," Derek snapped back.

"Because the players have changed," Mark spoke up, his eyes focused on Tom.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked turning towards his friend.

"We always focused on the good we were doing, that we never focused on who it was behind our leadership funding the undercover operation," Mark answered.

A look of comprehension crossed Derek's expression. "So, who's our mystery guest that seems to think this is a brilliant idea?"

Tom cleared his throat, his face turning flustered. "That's not what's important. What's important is that you do what your told."

Mark turned to Derek, ignoring his senior agent. "You know what interesting…"

Derek leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his knee. "What's what?"

"I recall seven years ago a junior senator helping to fund this project in the early stages as a way to have his name assigned to reducing crime in our cities. This senator later went on to be a Governor, and wouldn't you know they recently have been talking for a bid at the Presidency in the next election," Mark replied.

Derek nodded. "You know… now that you mention it…that makes a lot of sense," he said, continuing their own conversation as if Tom wasn't in the room.

"How good with that election run look if you can say you singlehandedly took out the entire crime organization in Seattle. I mean just think back to previous DA's that have taken out one major crime boss. It helped them in the election, but didn't quite take them all the way. But, taking down all of the crime bosses…that would be something," added Mark.

"Alright, enough!" snapped Tom.

"What is it that command wants? I am not joining into any marriage alliance." Mark warned.

Tom fixed them both with a stare. "For now, you don't have too. Command wants you to get in and find what we are looking for to bring it down. The time frame is narrow."

Mark arched his brow. "Or…"

Tom sighed. "Or your out."

Mark's jaw tightened; his eyes darkened. "Just like that. After all these years…after all the contributions we've made in the case…"

"It's because of those things and your record that you weren't pulled now." Tom shot back. He looked at Mark with resigned look. "The fact of the matter is…you've gotten distracted. You've let other things slip through the cracks."

Mark leaned forward his nostrils flaring, a muscle in his jaw twitched. "Like what?"

"Like the fact that you seem to being spending more time with that doctor these days," Tom replied. Mark's mouth set in a hard line. "Before you deny it—" –he lifted his hand to cut Mark off from replying— "—we've recently become aware of your attachment," he added his voice pausing on the word attachment.

He snarled being careful to not confirm or deny his information. "So, am I being watched now?"

Tom placed his hands on his hips, trying to convey his dominance in the room. "I don't need to remind you that you are a tool to this agency."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "So, it comes down to us being expendable. Glad to know that command gives a shit," he muttered.

"Command expects results." Tom barked. He looked back to Mark. "Results that don't take us backwards." He looked between the two of them. "Instead of spending these last weeks bringing them down, you've managed to allow some mystery group attack Addison and now we have this new mystery group that we haven't been able to gather any information on. Your tasked to bring groups down, not cultivate new ones."

His face turned crimson red. "I had nothing to do with that. There was no chatter. There was no warning or clues. I have just as much information as you all do."

"That's the point. You shouldn't. You're running this city, you should know," Tom shouted.

"That's not fair," Derek chimed in. "Even with all your intel and contacts you can't even give us anything to run on."

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. "Command is not interested in excuses."

"Fuck, command," Derek sputtered.

Tom glared at him. "If I, were you, I would refrain from making any further comments that could lead to insubordination. You're on thin ice. One more wrong move and you are both out."

"Keep your threats. I have always done what is best for this agency and the overall good of this operation. You can go back to command and your eager politician and tell them to stay the fuck out of way," Mark advised.

Tom snorted, shaking his head and pointing his finger at him. "That's the problem with you. You think you are so untouchable. That you are somehow god's gift to the world. I told command they were wrong to select you for this assignment, and you are just proving me right."

Mark stood from his chair tried of his conversation and orders coming from someone behind a desk that didn't know anything when it actually came to ensuring the success of this operation.

"I think my track record speaks for itself." He rebutted.

"I think you're a liability. I think your more like your old man than you think."

Mark lunged forward, grabbing a hold of the lapel of Tom's jacket and shoved him back against the wall. His voice was dangerously low and calm. "What did you say to me?"

Derek was on his feet, already coming to their side, his hand on Mark's upper arm. "Let him go, Mark."

Tom looked from Derek back to Mark. He should have known when to keep his mouth shut, but the Special Agent Lead in Charge didn't know when to quit.

"You heard me. You couldn't come through for your mother or her case, and now your so in on this case that you don't even remember what side you work for any longer."

Mark pulled Tom forward before slamming him against the wall. "You son of a bitch."

"Mark, let him go," Derek said more forcefully.

Derek's hands came in between where Mark's fingers were turning white from gripping the lapel of his jacket so hard. When Mark didn't budge, his best friend pushed at his chest, shoving him back before he did do something stupid like punch his superior in the face. Derek made sure to stay in between them.

Tom adjusted his suit jacket. "Get your shit together Sloan, or you are off this case. Lose your distractions before they wind up like your mother."

He scowled, ready to lunge again, but Derek caught him, pushing him back towards the door. "Let's go. He's not worth it." Derek groaned.

Mark waited long enough until they were back in the parking lot standing next to their vehicle before he shouted out in frustration.

"Don't let that dick get to you," Derek said trying to defuse the situation.

Mark's anger was reaching new limits. "He doesn't get to get away with saying that shit."

Derek let out a long breath. "He's doing it to get under your skin. It's working…don't let it work Mark. You've never lost your calm like that before. I know how much this operation has meant to you. Don't give them a reason to try and take it away."

"They are about to ruin the entire damn thing. All these years, all the hard work to go up in flames because some pussy in a suit who wants to be the next commander in chief wants to wave a trophy in the public's face."

Derek crossed his arms across his chest. "You've always told me control what you can. We can't control that, but we can control what we do. So, let's push a little harder and give them a little more. Enough to get them off our back but see how instrumental we are in the field."

He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath as he leaned against the car. "It's not just that. You heard them in there…even if I handed them more than a little, they are looking for any reason to pull me out specifically. It was between the lines by saying I was distracted."

Derek's forehead puckered. "Distracted how?"

The look on his face conveyed he was crushed by his next words. "They're talking about Lexie."

"Fuck that," Derek said automatically. "They don't get to tell you that you can't have a life outside of the operation. I don't care what they say, you have been nothing but committed to this operation."

His reply was somber. "In their eyes, she threatens the operation. They want the marriage alliance and they see her getting in the way."

Derek shook his head. "No. You heard him back there…they said they aren't pushing that."

"Yet," he corrected. "I told you…I told you this was never going to work out."

Derek's eyes bore into him, his mouth falling open. "What are you saying?"

Sadness clouded his features as he winced. "I'm saying something has to give. I've put too much time into this operation. I need to see this through."

Derek's mouth snapped shut in disbelief. "Don't do this. You're making the wrong decision. This is only a portion of your life; Lexie could be forever."

"I don't have a choice."

Derek's expression dulled. "Bullshit. You always have a choice. Mark my words, if you do this…it will be the wrong one. You will regret this forever."

"I never should have let it go on to begin with. I knew it was always going to come to this," he said dejectedly.

Derek took a few steps away, his hand to his forehead, licking his lips as he turned around, his shoulders rigid with anger. "I have never once in my life ever thought you were anything like your old man. Never. If you do this…you will prove me wrong."

Mark looked up at his brother, those words cutting him like a knife right to his very core. "Sometimes you can't escape who you are and who you come from. Maybe it's who I need to be in order to see this through."

"No. I don't believe that shit for one second. She has been the best thing to ever happen to you. She was the one to finally show you that you didn't have to close yourself off…to let the disappointments of the past and those that should have cared about you define who you are." He sighed, his face contorting in disappointment.

Mark's expression hardened. "I've made up my mind."

Derek's head shook left and right. "Then you're a fool."

Maybe his brother was right. It didn't matter if his heart was breaking or that he was numb inside, he had always sworn to himself that he would protect her first. Even if that meant protecting her from him. He would have to break her heart—as well as his in the process—to keep her from any further danger because of him.

Derek stormed off, griping about finding his own way back. Mark climbed into the car, knowing he was about to do the toughest thing he would ever have to do.

Let Lexie Grey go.

A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews.