Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for a crazy mind.
A/N: Yes, I am still alive. Surprising right? I know it's been exactly three months (eek, that's a long time) since I've updated but I've had a few things to deal with lately and got distracted from this story, but it's suddenly resurfaced and I'm on top of things again. I suggest people re-read the last two chapters to refresh your memory, sorry about that. We are so close to the end and so I really hope people stick with this since I have a plan! Sorry this is a bit short but it was originally really long so I just decided to cut it into two chapters. Don't worry, you should feel better once you read the end of this chapter :D
Just a warning, this chapter does contain violence but I think it doesn't go higher than a T (maybe a high T but that's it, though I was never good at ratings). Anyway, enjoy the next chapter and please, let me know what you think! (:
Lexie's eyes widened and Thatcher moved closer, his smile twisting into a snarl. "Come on, Lexie," he said, keeping his voice low. "Kill me. I dare you. Try."
"Y-You don't believe me?" Lexie asked as she flexed her fingers against the wooden handle of the hammer. "You don't think I can hurt you like how you hurt me?"
Thatcher laughed as he shook his head at her. "You're weak," he spat. "You're weak and pathetic. You can't do it. You don't know anything."
Lexie's eyes flashed as she raised an eyebrow. "Don't I?"
"You think you're better than me. You think you're the strong one. You have this image in your head of being capable, but no." He stopped and shook his head. "It's a lie, Lexie. You know what it is? It's a lie. You can't do this. You, you can't hurt me. You can't do anything. You're lying to yourself, Lexie."
Lexie swallowed nervously and then spoke, forcing herself to keep her voice level. "I'm not the one who's lying to themselves. I am strong and I am more than capable." She swallowed nervously before stating, "If I have to, I will hurt you."
She watched as something flicked behind his eyes, something registered in his mind, but then the light was gone and his eyes became stone again. Lexie kept her eyes steady on his as she added, "I will hurt you. If you…If I have to then…I-I need you to know that. I will hurt you if it comes down to it."
This time, Thatcher's laugh didn't cause Lexie to flinch. Instead she remained calm, her fingers slowly wrapping and unwrapping around the handle of the hammer, as she listened to him taunt her. "You're gonna hurt me, are you? Should I be afraid, princess? Should I be worried?" He laughed as he waved his hand at the hammer. "Do you even know how to use that? Are you gonna hurt me with the hammer, princess?"
Lexie's jaw twitched slightly as she replied, "Yes."
"You haven't got the guts."
"That's what you think," Lexie said, her voice lowered. Suddenly, everything she had kept inside for so long was bubbling to the surface, everything that she had always wanted to tell him, to shout at him and the world, it was surfacing and Lexie wouldn't let it rest. Not now. He had to know what he did to her, he needed to face the truth and Lexie wasn't going to hold back.
Her voice was low and calm when she spoke, a stark contrast to the redness in her face, her flaring nostrils and determined, burning eyes. "You think I can't do anything. You think I'll just stand here and take whatever you give me." Lexie shook her head and pointed the hammer at his head. "Maybe, maybe before I would have stood here and cried and begged you to stop but I-I'm not going to now. Not now, not a-anymore." Lexie laughed slightly before she steadied her hand, the hammer aimed at his head. "And you want to know why? Because I'm better than you, dad. I am better than you. I'm not that person anymore. I'm stronger than you and I am right. You can't do this to me. You can't! I-it's not right. You can't do this to me."
His eyes narrowed, his jaw set as he barked, "Can't I?"
"No," Lexie snapped. "You can't." Her lips curled up in disgust as she frantically waved the hammer. "D-Don't you ever think? Don't you ever stop and think that what you're doing is wrong? This…this shouldn't be happening. You shouldn't do this to me. I'm your daughter, not some, some low-life that you can beat whenever you please." Although her eyes were beginning to sting, Lexie shook her head, the anger inside of her stronger than anything she had ever felt before. "It's all wrong. This is wrong. And…And how...How can you not realize that? You're not meant to do this; no-one should do this! How the hell can you not realize that this is wrong?"
Thatcher glared at her. "I'm not the one in the wrong here. I'm not wrong." He took a step forward, his eyes flicking from the hammer to her pale face. "You're wrong. Y-You think you can do this? You really believe that you can hurt me? Me?" His rage suddenly exploded and his shouts shook the room. "I'm your father! You can't hurt me; you can't do this to me! You have no guts. You're a pathetic, stupid bitch. Just like your mother. Huh, your mother. And what would she say if she saw you now?"
The blood drained from Lexie's face and she turned her head away, her eyes falling to look at the floor. After a moment, she harshly whispered, "Don't talk about her. Don't you dare talk about her."
"Who? Your mother, Lexie?" Thatcher asked, his voice taunting her. He laughed as he took another step towards her. "What would she say if she saw you now? Huh? What would she do if she saw you ready to hurt your own father?" He shook his head in disgust, his hand waving at the hammer shaking in Lexie's hand. "She would be disgusted with you. She would hate you, Lexie. She would hate you, just like how I hate you."
"Stop it," Lexie whispered before looking up at him in disbelief. Steadily, her voice increased in volume as she denied his accusations. "She wouldn't. She…She would understand. This is your fault. Everything…Everything that's gone wrong, it's your fault! She would understand that you made me this way!"
"No, princess, she would hate you. Her own daughter – a mess. What about Molly? And Meredith? Do they know about your sick thoughts, huh, Lexie? Do they know about your desire to kill your own father?"
Lexie flinched at his words and she shook her head, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes. "Stop it. Stop it. I'm not like that. You are! There's nothing wrong with me! You forced me into this! You made me like this; I wasn't like this before you! Stop it, you're wrong!"
Thatcher's jaw clenched as he balled his hands into fists. "No! It's you, Lexie! You're to blame. You're always to blame. You're the reason this happened! You are doing this, not me!"
"I-I… " Lexie stopped and gripped the hammer tighter. She moved it into position, as if it had turned into a baseball bat and she was ready to strike. "I'm not the bad one. You're the sick one! I'm not. I'm not. You're the reason my life has fallen apart. You're the reason I'm like this, it's your fault and you're-you're too damn stupid to realize it!" Lexie cried as she felt the hammer shake in her hands. "I'm not the bad one! It's you! It's always been you, you, not me! It's your fault!"
His eyes flicked to the trembling hammer and then back to her tearful eyes. Thatcher growled at her. "Are you going to do it, Lexie? Huh? Is the little princess going to hurt me?" His eyes darkened and he took another step forward. "Come on," he taunted, his eyes steady on hers. "I dare you. Hurt me! Come on!"
Lexie's bottom lip trembled as she cried silently, her hands shaking around the tool. She couldn't do it. He was right, she couldn't do it. She was too weak and pathetic and worthless. She wasn't brave enough, she didn't have the guts. He would always rule over her. There was no way she could escape him because always, no matter how hard she tried, he would always overpower her. She was too weak to stop him.
There was nothing she could do but cry.
"I-I can't," Lexie forced out as the tears rained down. "I-I-"
"Do it!" Thatcher shouted before stalking up to her, his body looming over her. Suddenly he was there, right in front of her, merely an inch away from her. His hot breath ran over her, his shadow casting a spell over her. "Do it!" He screamed, his face red, the stench of alcohol encasing Lexie.
"I can't," Lexie whimpered as she ducked her head, the tears curving over her cheeks. "I-I can't," she sobbed before she dropped her arms to her side, the hammer dangling loosely in her grip. Tears ran down her face as she cautiously looked up at Thatcher, regret and sorrow clear on her broken, angelic face. "I can't do it," she sobbed. "I can't. I can't hurt you. God, I ca-can't do it. W-Why can't I hurt you?"
In the silence that followed her admission, Thatcher's eyes remained steady on the hammer. He didn't move any further, he simply watched her, waiting for the right time. The tears cascaded down her pale cheeks and Thatcher was struck by the lack of remorse he felt as he watched his daughter. His eyes darted to the wooden handle and for the first time he realized that it was stained red with her blood.
He didn't care.
Suddenly, his hand lashed out, his coarse hand connecting with Lexie's wet face. The sound of flesh against flesh vibrated through the small room and Thatcher smirked when Lexie shrieked in pain. His eyes narrowed however when she didn't fall, her head only moving to the side. He tried again, harder this time, her cheek flaring red from the contact. But she didn't fall to the ground.
This time it was different.
His anger blazed through him like a white flame and he let out a shout before he pushed her, his two hands slamming against her shoulders with brute force. Her reaction was instant. There was a loud noise, the hammer connecting with the floor as her grip loosened, the tool running away from her. And then there was the second sound, the sound that hurt Lexie's ears but gave Thatcher a sense of satisfaction – the sound of Lexie's frail body shattering against the floor.
Thatcher watched as Lexie gasped for air when her head came into contact with the hard floor. His eyes darted to the side, landing on the forgotten hammer, and he smirked when he plucked it from the floor. He didn't mind the feel of her wet blood now staining the palm of his hand.
He smirked again as he watched Lexie sob. She had fallen to the ground yet again. This time wasn't different. Lexie was lying on the floor and Thatcher was standing above her, his chest puffed out and his craving for beer the purest it had ever been.
Nothing was different. Nothing would ever change. He would make sure of it.
"I can't do this!"
Callie looked up from her position on the on-call room bed and raised her eyebrow at Mark, who was standing in the doorway, his expression dark and stormy. "Do what?"
Mark growled and slammed the door shut behind him. Moving further into the room, he began to pace, unsure of what to do. "This," he stressed. "I can't do it!"
"Okay..." Callie drawled as she slowly moved up on the bed, so that she could rest against the wall. She titled her head to one side and concentrated on Mark's fast moving body. Slowly, she asked again, "Do what?"
"Ignore her!" Mark shouted before stopping pacing. He spun to look at Callie, his face angry. "She's impossible to ignore!"
"Who?" Callie asked, frowning. When Mark didn't reply, and instead just glared at her, Callie's eyes widened as it dawned on her. "Oh! Oh. Oh, Lexie."
"Who else would I be talking about?"
"Well, I dunno, but you weren't making a whole lot of sense, Mark." Callie paused when Mark nodded absently. She waited for him to continue, expecting a long rant from him, but when he said nothing, Callie spoke. "So, what happened?"
Mark opened his mouth to say something but then stopped. He didn't know where to begin. At first, when Callie had told him Lexie had hung up the phone on her, Mark made a vow not to talk to her. He wouldn't bother worrying about her when she clearly did not want to talk to him. It was simple. Or at least, appeared simple at the start.
Now as his shift was drawing to an end, thoughts of going to Lexie's house–like he said he would at the start of the day–started to filter into Mark's mind. If he wasn't so stubborn he would go over to her house and ask her what happened earlier. Maybe she had a perfectly good reason as to why she didn't want to answer the call. She might have a reason. It was Lexie after all; she wouldn't do something unless there was logic behind it.
As the day went on, Mark's thoughts of Lexie increased. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't leave it alone. He couldn't ignore her. It was true, she was impossible to ignore. He never understood how anyone could forget about her. She was constantly there, haunting his mind. Her face, her smile, her eyes, her sweet voice would drift into his mind and Mark found it hard to concentrate.
He couldn't ignore her and if he was honest with himself, it was annoying. He couldn't forget her; she was constantly there. Why? He wasn't sure. This was the first time Mark had felt this way. Never had a woman taken up this much of his time. Maybe it was because of the circumstances. It was different with Lexie, and not simply because of her own personal situation.
He was a different person now.
He cared more, he wanted more. It was hard to admit, but Mark believed he was finally ready to commit. It was a scary word, an even scarier concept to act out, however now that Mark thought about it, it didn't seem so unreasonable. He deserved to be happy and being with Lexie made him happy. When he was with her, he was continuously smiling, she made things seem better.
She gave him hope.
Maybe he could commit to her.
There was always a first time for everything.
Glancing back at Callie's expectant face, Mark sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know where to start," he said honestly.
Callie gave him a sympathetic smile and then patted the seat next to her. "Sit." When Mark did as she said and took a seat next to her on the bed, mirroring her posture, Callie looked up at him, her expression serious. "Listen to me Mark, because I'm only going to say this once. You care about Lexie. You care about her and you may...you may even love her."
Mark can't control the scoff that escapes him. "I'm not–"
"Don't argue with me," Callie said sternly. There was a small smile on her face when she said, "I know you better than you know yourself. You love her. You care about what she thinks of you and you don't want to disappoint her. You're scared and yet...you still want to commit to her."
Mark was silent, wondering how Callie had figured him out so easily.
"I'm the closest thing you have to a best friend, Mark and so I know you. I know that you're ready but then Lexie goes and does this and it screws with your head. It's scary, isn't it?"
They sit in silence for a moment before Mark's rough whisper floats into the air. "I don't understand why she chose me."
Callie felt something stab at her heart and she reached out to take his hand in hers. "Mark, she probably loves you, too. That's why she chose you. You're a good man, Mark. I know you don't believe it but you're a good, good man."
He is silent for a moment before his gruff voice fills the silence. "How do you know? What if I'm not as good as everyone thinks?"
Callie smiled slightly, and squeezed his large hand. "I just know. And Lexie knows it, too. That's why you're good together." Callie sighed gently as she tries to explain it to him. "You're a changed man, Mark. The way you feel about Lexie, it's different isn't it?"
His response is instant. "Yes."
"And do you know why it's different?"
Instead of replying, Mark simply nodded slightly. He knew, they both knew, but he couldn't admit it. Not yet. But one thing he was sure of was that he had to get answers. He needed to see Lexie now more than anything. There was no point in being upset with her; there must be a logical reason as to why she cut his call. He has to believe that. He couldn't ignore her, he should never ignore her.
And then it dawned on him. He shouldn't be here, sitting in the On-Call room with Callie, he should be out there, he should be with Lexie. He should go to her and see if she's okay. He needed to see her, talk to her, hold her in his arms and tell her that he was ready for everything. All he needed was her.
With a slow fire steadily burning in his heart, Mark looked at Callie, his deep blue eyes staring at her and he has to tell himself to remain calm as his deep voice cuts through the air, his voice strong, determined and sure. "I have to go see her. I have to see her. Now."