AN: Thank you guys so much for the feedback to the last chapter. Some of you saw it coming, others were stunned, but either way, you let me know what you thought and THANK YOU!
This chapter is for Miss Blanche-Dubois. I can't resist virtual chocolate. It has all the sentiment and none of the fat. =) It's also a shameless plea to get more chapters for Crying Consequences!
Standard disclaimers apply and, despite due diligence, the inevitable mistakes are my fault.
Remembrance
At the center, matter is crushed to infinite density, rendering time and space meaningless.
Chapter Fifteen: Singularity
Lexie looked down at the sonogram. "All you know how to do is lie," she whispered brokenly, letting the picture fall to the bed.
"Lexie—" he started, reaching for her.
She dodged his grasp with an agility borne of desperation rather than innate grace. "Don't." The word was surprisingly forceful considering how fragile she appeared.
They stared at each other for a long moment, his eyes wary, hers stricken. Deciding surprise was his best option, he reached for her again, his long legs eating the distance between them. She spun away from him, heading toward the doorway he'd just vacated. His fingers grasped her elbow and she shook him off with a violence that jarred her teeth.
She made it to the front door, slowing down long enough to grab a keychain from the counter. He was at her heels the entire time, but she slammed the door behind her. Yanking it back open cost him precious time; when he finally reached the elevator, the doors were already sliding over the image of her jabbing the panel as if she wished it were his eye.
Letting out a swift curse, he smashed a futile fist against the metal doors before racing to the stairs. He bounded down them three at a time until he burst into the lobby. She exited the elevators at the same time and they caught each other's eye for a split second before she cut a hard left and raced out of the building.
He was patting his pockets for keys that weren't there when he saw his Porsche come out of the carpark.
Once again, he swore, this time into the thin mist of rain in front of him. As he made his way back into the lobby, he took out his phone. By the time the elevator arrived, Derek had already answered.
*******
Her father had taught her how to drive on his old hatchback. The car had been one temperamental son of a bitch, but Thatcher Grey had refused to get rid of it. A rite of passage of sorts, Molly had learned to drive in it after Lexie had gotten her license. Its third gear had always stuck, but she'd adapted, growing so used to the clunker that when she'd finally converted to an automatic, the change had been bittersweet. So Mark's car, with its sleek stickshift and smooth third gear, was absolutely no problem.
Neither was remembering how to get to Meredith's house.
The problem, then, was mustering up the energy and will to climb the steps. She hiccupped once last time, giving her damp cheeks two angry swipes.
She thought to when they'd first found out about the baby. It'd been at the hospital, she'd known for about two days with absolutely no idea how to spring the news to her live-in boyfriend.
In the end, she hadn't had to say anything. He'd caught her coming out of the restroom one afternoon, her face wan and her eyes overly bright. One slim hand had been wiping her freshly rinsed mouth, her trembling fingers a telltale sign of what she'd been up to.
"Rectal exams?" he'd joked, giving her a half smile as he referenced their earlier spat.
She'd shaken her head silently, her eyes huge as she had looked up at him.
His smile had frozen before splintering into a gaping expression. They'd stared at each other, both trying to think of something to say and coming up short. Then a trauma had rushed in, Hunt had called out his name and Mark had given her one last look before backing away.
The topic had been pushed back until they were both in the apartment that night. He touched her flat abdomen reverently and she knew whether or not she was keeping the baby was a nonissue.
"We'll tell Meredith and Derek tomorrow," he'd said with a short nod.
And she had done nothing but nod back, too startled to say anything.
And now, as she opened Mark's car door, she acknowledged that they'd never gotten to the part about the baby. Her sister's appalled anger had truncated any explanation. In fact, neither Meredith nor Derek had known about the baby until it was gone.
Meredith answered shortly after Lexie's first knock; she must have already been in the living room.
"I was pregnant," she said without preamble. Shouldering past the other woman, she stood in the hallway without any clear picture of where to go next.
Meredith closed the door behind them. Both of them stood without moving. "So Mark told you."
Lexie let out a hollow laugh, the sound harsh even to her own ears. "No, actually, Mark didn't. Mark," she spat out the name, "it seems, isn't really into the truth. Lies are much more up his alley."
One fine brow rose as Meredith took in the younger woman's latent fury. Angry Lexie wasn't something she'd experienced in her limited time as a big sister. So she slipped to her default setting. Lifting her shoulders, she asked in what she hoped was a helpful voice, "Is it tequila time?"
Lexie sighed. "Lead the way," she said. "I also wanted to apologize."
"Apologize?"
"We should have told you about us sooner," she said. "I should have told you about us sooner."
Meredith shrugged. "Water. Bridge. All that."
Lexie sat on a kitchen stool while Meredith pulled open cabinets. "I am such an idiot," she said, cradling her head on her hands. "That's the only reason he proposed. And that's why I never said yes."
Meredith's hands stilled over two shot glasses. "He risked his friendship with Derek to be with you. I'd bet love had something to do with it, too."
But Lexie wasn't listening. Her forehead head had lowered from her palms to pressing against the counter. "I said I'd marry him," she moaned.
Meredith's brow furrowed. "I thought you said you never said yes?"
Lexie's head rolled side to side on the counter in a negative motion. "Not then. Now. I told him I'd marry him now." She let out another groan. "I asked him to marry me."
Meredith let out a low whistle and forgot about the measured glasses. Twisting off the cap, she took a swig before passing it to Lexie. "That is bad," Meredith said, her voice tentative, almost a question.
"Awful," Lexie corrected, wincing as she swallowed a lethal dose.
"Why?"
"I can't marry him," she cried, shaking her head so vehemently her vision blurred. "I can't even look at him." She took another swig. They passed the bottle between them for a few silent moments.
"I can't believe he lied to me all this time. What did he think would happen?"
Meredith shrugged. "Maybe he just wanted another chance to do it right."
"Bullshit." She spat the word out like a bullet.
Another round of silence followed Lexie's outburst, filled only by the sound of tequila sloshing around as they drank.
"Does he know you're here?" Meredith asked, her eyes travelling up to the ceiling automatically.
And then Lexie got suspicious. "No." She waited a beat, her eyes also rolling upward. "Derek's here, isn't he?"
Meredith waited a split second too long to answer and Lexie was off the stool so fast her head swam. "I'm not going back there," she said. She was already in the hallway looking for her keys when Derek came downstairs, phone in hand.
"Lexie," he greeted. His voice was so careful, as if he were speaking to someone fragile and volatile, there was no mistaking what he knew.
"Where are my keys?" she demanded, looking at Meredith.
"You shouldn't be driving right now," Derek said.
Ignoring him, she looked at her sister. "Give me the keys," she said, her palm out.
Meredith divided a look between her sister and boyfriend. "You've been drinking," she finally said.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, yanking open the front door. She jogged down the front steps, resisting the temptation to break one of the windows on Mark's beloved Porsche. The tequila swam in her stomach, warming her insides and fuzzing her brain.
She'd walked two blocks in some random direction when she recognized her own blue Honda pulling up next to her.
"Go away," she said, not bothering to turn to look at the driver. Her arms were crossed over her chest in a gesture that was more for warmth than to convey any obstinacy. Two birds, she thought grimly.
"Get in, Lexie," he said, the window rolled down as he leaned over. One large hand controlled her steering wheel with ease.
"Eat shit and die," she snapped, walking faster even though there was no chance of outpacing him. The tequila's edge was fast fading and the cold was seeping through her clothes. She turned a corner and her car hugged the curb as he followed.
"Get in the damn car before you freeze to death."
"I'd rather freeze than get anywhere near you." Setting her jaw against the cold, she kept walking. She could practically feel her cheeks and nose pinkening against the cold. Her breath came out in short, hurried white clouds.
His voice grew tighter. "I could just shove you in the car, you know."
"I'd scream for the cops."
"I'd be happy to tell them you'd escaped from the fifth floor of Seattle Grace."
Damn him, he was mocking her. She stopped so suddenly, the car went ahead a few feet before reversing.
"This isn't funny," she told him once he'd stopped.
"I'm not laughing," he said, no trace of a smile on his sharp features. "Now come home."
The sky broke then, pouring rain with a ferocity that left her drenched in seconds. She could have laughed at the perfection of it all. Instead, she turned and began walking the same way she'd come. To his credit, he didn't give up, choosing to pull her car in reverse and become her shadow. Her tires crept parallel to the curb and he didn't even bother looking behind him. Negligence at its worst, she thought snidely.
"Damn it, Lexie," he said. "You're going to get sick. Get in the car."
Rain collected on her scalp and streamed down the side of her face, hanging off the tip of her nose before falling. She sniffed. "I hate you," she said.
He sighed. "I know."
She stopped again, hugging herself tightly as if to keep her insides together. Teeth chattering, she finally looked at him. "How?" she asked, rain slithering across her lips. "How could you look at me every day and lie to my face?"
"I didn't lie," he said.
She gave him a withering glare. "Omission. I wouldn't split hairs right now if I were you."
"Get in the car," he repeated. "We can talk about this at home."
"I don't want to go your apartment."
"It's ours."
"Never felt like it," she muttered.
He thumped the steering wheel in obvious frustration. "So we'll move. Just get in."
"Were you ever going to tell me?" She stood still, squinting her eyes against the weather. Rain drenched her lashes and she blinked rapidly.
The time for lies had passed. So he looked her dead in the eye and answered, "No."
Emitting a low sound of disgust, she resumed walking. Behind her, Mark slammed out of the car and jogged the distance between them. He lunged for her elbow and spun her around, water flinging from the wet pelt of her hair in a clean arc.
"You can't park there," she said hotly, looking at her gleaming Honda. The twin hazards were the only sign of life in the middle of the deserted street.
He glowered down at her, his hand a manacle around her arm. "Do you honestly think I care about the car right now?"
"Why would you?" she burst out, yelling over the drumming rain. "If it was your precious Porsche, I'd never hear the end of it, but my car can get towed, is that it?"
"What the hell do our cars have to do with anything?" he exploded.
"Nothing!" Trying to wrench her arm free, she continued her harangue. "You're just selfish. Selfish and cruel and—and…"
"And?" he coaxed, shouting now. "Don't stop there."
She yanked free of him to bring her hands up near her head. Searching for words she clawed at the air around her hair. "And terrible!"
"Fine! I'm the bad guy." He pointed to himself with a vicious stab of his finger. "Whatever's easier for you, Lexie."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're always the victim, Lexie. And I'm always the asshole. It gets old."
"Are you seriously trying to turn tables here? You lied to me, you kept just about the biggest secret there is from me."
"Yes! I did!" He leaned forward and she could see the rain clumping his lashes. "Aren't you even curious why?"
"I know why," she cried, wrapping her arms around her waist once more. "Because you were sick of living with a girlfriend who cried over a dead baby all the time."
He shook his head at her, water flinging around them. "I don't even know what to say to that." Arms outstretched, he asked, "What do you want me to say?"
Cold, tired, and feeling as alone as she had the day her mother died, she began to cry. Her tears heated cheeks already damp from rain. Saline and rainwater mingled together and she looked up at the night sky. The stars were hiding. "I want—" She hiccupped. "I want you to hurt like I hurt."
Which made her just as selfish as she'd accused him of being. Worse. Because even as she looked at him, loathing the betrayal the sight of him conjured, she ironically, sought comfort from the very person who'd caused her such pain.
The bleak thought was her undoing. Giving up, she crumpled onto the sidewalk, her feet still holding her weight as she pressed her forehead to her knees. When he reached for her with two strong hands, she didn't bother resisting. A moment later her soggy jeans were ruining the upholstery of her car.
Exhausted but still unwilling to concede, she turned her head away from him as if to remind him he was far from forgiven. She stared out the rain-splattered window for the first few minutes of their journey. Somewhere between a 7-11 and his apartment, she fell asleep.
AN: Please review!