Warning: Alcohol

Thank you to everyone who's been leaving so many amazing comments. And a special shout out to RowdyBoy, who gave me one on "Flipping The Pages", which I've recommended before. If you've found me through that, welcome!

Some asked for more of April, so here you go. I didn't intend this initially, but she is a Little and Owen is her caregiver. They won't be in this as often as MerDer and Alex as I do want to focus on those dynamics. I'm not the biggest fan of Owen as it is, except for him as a father. So, the two will just be sprinkled in here and there. Jackson has referred to her as "Kepner" in the past, but that's just because her adoption is newer and he's not used to calling her "Hunt".

I may also bring Addison into this at some point, as I love her…but for now our main focus is Mark Jackson, with close second to their friendship with the Grey-Shepherd family.

With all that out of the way, let's get into it!

Jackson thought things would feel different his first shift as an attending, but not much has changed. He's not working directly under Mark anymore. Yeah, he's still his boss, but he can take on patients by himself. Once again, he expects something major to happen. A fire or a car accident.

Instead, he has a consult for the follow up surgery on one of Addison's old mastectomy patients. She's finally ready to get reconstructed. Then, three teens come in with bashed up faces. They require stitches. One almost needs surgery on their arm but it's a false call.

"Not every day is exciting," Mark reminds him when he complains.

The two are in Mark's office. Jackson sits in the chair, spinning around in circles. He pushes his foot against the floor every so often. This used to be his favorite thing to do when visiting Catherine. She eventually told him to stop or he'd get sick. Mark allows it as he stands next to him and looks over

patient notes.

"Says the guy with a surgery in a couple of hours," Jackson quips back. "Don't you need help?"

"Thanks, but it's fairly easy. In and out. Only one surgeon is required." Jackson sighs. Mark rubs his back. "Enjoy the quiet. It doesn't happen every day."

"I took a nap," Jackson says, incredulously, slowing down a bit. He kicks his leg to start it up again. "I actually took a nap. Do you realize how lame that is?"

"That sounds like a good thing. You know what else might be good? Eating."

Jackson consults the clock. It's almost 2. The most he's had since the start of his shift was a granola bar and protein shake.

"I forgot about lunch."

"I thought you would." Mark reaches into his desk and pulls out his wallet.

"You don't have to keep giving me money, you know?" Jackson says. "I have my own."

"Just take it." The bills are shoved into his palm. "And try to get something healthy. Maybe all the food groups or whatever."

"You know the food pyramid is an outdated practice, right?"

Mark raises a brow. "I'm sorry, do you want me to hold your hand and escort you down there?"

Jackson rolls his eyes. He hops up from the chair and watches it spin for a moment. Mark kisses the top of his head.

"Keep your pager on you."

"Always." He flashes the bills before tucking them into his scrub pocket. "Thanks."

"Of course. Now, go."

The cafeteria is busier than usual. Jackson grabs his salad, Jell-O and grilled chicken. He scans the room and finds April sitting by herself. All she has in front of her is a bowl of cereal, which she swirls with her spoon. Her face is despondent as she stares intently at her cheerios. Jackson walks over and slides into the chair across.

"Hey."

Her head snaps up. "I'm going to take them again next year."

Jackson holds up his fork in defense. "Okay."

"It's not a big deal, alright?" Irritation seeps into her eyes. "Lots of people fail. 1 in 5, right?" She stabs her spoon into the bowl. "It's no…big…" The utensil hits the milk once again, splattering a bit on the table. "Deal."

Jackson merely nods, passing over some napkins. She cleans up her mess, muttering under her breath. He isn't sure what to say of comfort. As it is, Owen already went around the hospital telling everyone if they stress her out more, they'll have to deal with him. Jackson is pretty sure she won't take that well when she finds out. Regardless, he doesn't need to deal with the wrath of overprotective Hunt.

Alex hops into the seat beside him. April glares at him.

"Go away."

"Hey, what'd I do?"

"I don't have time for your jokes."

"I didn't say anything," Alex replies, pretending to be hurt. Jackson shakes his head and takes a sip of his water. "I'm just eating and there are no open tables."

"Why don't you go eat in your dad's office?"

Alex scoffs. "You could just as easily eat in yours."

"Okay, both of you, quit it," Jackson intercepts. "April, we won't talk about it, okay? We don't have to. Alex is going to stay quiet. Right, Alex?"

Alex shrugs and takes a bite of his chicken tenders. April goes back to her cereal. Jackson opens his Jell-O, already in need of some sugar.

"Hey, Apes," Alex says. Jackson internally groans. She's told them a million times not to call her that. "Want some fries?"

"I don't want them if they're pity fries," April sneers.

Alex eats one. " They taste the same."

"I'm good. Not very hungry."

"You should probably eat something that's not cereal," Jackson says. "I mean, you still have surgeries and stuff, right?"

"Yeah," April whispers. "I'm still technically a resident, so I can do all of what I was before. Just not anything an attending can."

"It's not that great. I mean, I've had no surgeries at all today."

Alex shrugs, shoving a few more fries in his mouth. "I had one this morning, plus three consults."

Jackson gives him a Look.

"Do you want to know why you have no one to sit with?"

Alex snorts and takes a swig of his Coke. "Sorry. Look, Apes…"

"Don't call me that!" April snaps.

"Apes," Alex continues, ignoring Jackson nudging him. "It's only been a day. You can't already be walking around biting everyone's heads off. Gotta save something for tomorrow."

April narrows her eyes. She grabs one Cheerio from the bowl and tosses it in Alex's direction. It lands directly in the center of his forehead. Jackson snorts, offering his hand for a high five, which she takes. Alex grumbles, wiping his face with a napkin.

April consults her watch. "3 more hours," she mutters.

"Same," Jackson says.

Alex nods in agreement. "Mom and Dad are still here for another few hours."

"Do you have to go to the daycare?" April quips with a smirk.

"If I did, so would you, genius…oh wait…"

April's nostrils flare. Jackson holds up a hand. "No killing each other."

April shakes her head. "I was thinking about going to Joe's."

"Are you supposed to?"

"Dad doesn't get off until 11. I'll be home long before then."

"Yeah, my parents probably won't get home until midnight either." Alex shrugs. "I'm down."

"I didn't invite you."

"Unless you own the joint, you can't keep me out." He glances at Jackson. "You down?"

Jackson stares at his salad. The easy answer is "no". But that comes with a list of follow up questions. Maybe Alex won't care enough to ask, but April certainly will. Jackson usually goes with all of them. What is he supposed to say now?

"Sorry, I can't. Why? Well, I've been lying about my classification and now I live with Mark Sloan of all people. Yeah, my new daddy says I'm not allowed to drink or stay out past 10."

That sounds incredibly lame.

He's done his best to follow Mark's rules. They haven't even been at this a month. He doesn't want to upset him.

That doesn't sound any cooler.

Mark is supposed to get off the same time as Owen, Derek and Meredith. A few drinks won't kill him. Jackson will be back home for his stupid bedtime.

"Unless I get called into a surgery that keeps me here longer, sure."

Mark scrubs his hand over his face as he walks out of the locker room. It's encroaching on midnight. He got caught up in a surgery with Derek and Meredith that kept them there well past their end time. Normally he wouldn't mind, but this is his second late night in a row. At least it's followed by a day off.

He heads towards the exit, checking his phone. Jackson texted him around 8 saying he made it home safe. Mark debates calling him, but if he's truly asleep, he doesn't want to wake him. Derek and Meredith walk on either side.

"I'm getting too old for this," Derek mutters.

"Hey, don't say that," Mark snaps. "We're the same age. If you're old, then so am I."

"Hate to break it to you," Meredith says with a shrug.

Mark rolls his eyes. "Give it a decade or so, you'll get it."

"I'm a mom. That instantly ages someone 20 years." Meredith shoves her cell into her pocket. "I hope Alex is actually asleep."

"He texted me at 9 saying he was getting ready," Derek says. "Between the flights and boards, I think he's exhausted."

"Poor thing. He'll probably need to drop tomorrow."

"At least I'll be home with him."

Mark remains silent. He wishes he could join in the conversation. Share his own worries about Jackson. He's had a lot of stress over the past week. Not just about the boards, but his mom and finally getting a caregiver.

Derek is the person he goes to for all his problems. He somehow always has the right advice.

Mark isn't about to break Jackson's confidence. He doesn't want to scare him off.

As they step into the parking lot, Owen walks in front of them, his forehead creased in irritation. Mark raises a brow. They haven't seen him all day. What could they have done to piss him off?

"You alright?"

Owen looks over at Derek and Meredith. "I just got a call from Joe," he says. "The kids are there."

Derek tilts his head. "At nearly midnight?"

"He says he was off tonight but came in to check up on some things. April, Alex and Jackson are completely wasted."

Mark's jaw locks. He takes out his phone and looks back at the text that Jackson sent.

I'm home. See you in the morning.

He lied to him.

Disappointment fills Mark as he looks over at his frantic friends. Meredith is trying to call Alex, but it goes to voicemail.

"I'll go get him," Derek says. "I can carry him out easier if needed."

"I'm coming with you," Mark adds.

The three doctors give him an odd look. Mark clears his throat, trying to think quickly on top of his sizzling disappointment and worry.

"Jackson's my roommate," he reminds them. "If he's drunk, he'll need a ride home."

That seems to pacify them. Meredith kisses her husband's cheek and tries to encourage both him and Owen to stay calm. Neither look very convinced and Mark isn't either.

The three dads charge across the street. They're silent, leaving Mark with his thoughts. He wasn't naive enough to think that Jackson wouldn't drink. In fact, he's almost certain he did when he was in San Francisco. It isn't recommended that Littles drink, but it also isn't illegal either, unless they've dropped. Mark doesn't want him drinking at all but would accept a slip here and there.

It's the lying and getting drunk that bothers him. What if he drops? Or gets scared? No one else knows about Jackson's status. He could easily be manipulated or taken advantage of.

Joe's isn't as crowded given it's a Thursday night. Mark's eyes flicker across the bar, trying to locate Jackson. He sees Joe first, who points to a booth in the corner.

Sure enough, there are the two new attendings and their still-resident friend. Mark leads the group over. April is in a fit of giggles, leaning into Alex as they sing along to "Sweet Caroline" playing over the radio. Jackson is recording them with his phone. Mark clears his throat. The device lands in the empty frosted glass. Jackson looks up. His pupils are dilated and for a moment, he looks concerned, then laughs.

"Uh oh."

Mark's shoulders tense up. He tries to find the word as Alex and April's singing tapers out, as they look up at their dads. Derek and Owen begin speaking at once.

"Alexander Michael Shepherd…"

"April Marie Hunt…"

April talks even faster than usual, trying to explain away her current state. Alex and Jackson seem to find the whole thing hilarious, snorting and nudging one another. Mark grabs hold of Jackson's cell and drops it in his pocket. He yanks the man's shirt and drags him out of the booth. Owen and Derek are too focused on their own kids to notice. Jackson squirms in Mark's grasp. He's ignored. Mark is about to leave when Derek's voice pulls him back.

"You need help?"

Derek's got a similar grip on Alex now. Owen is already halfway out of the bar, holding April's hand.

"No, I've got this. He probably just needs to sleep it off." Jackson grows a little limp and leans into his caregiver. Mark bites his lip, wrapping an arm around him. Derek regards them curiously. "You want me to get Meredith?"

"I'm good."

Mark doesn't like the look in Derek's eyes. The same one he gets every time he's trying to figure something out. He's so damn nosey. No, more accurately, Derek can read him like a book.

He can't give him access right now.

Mark adjusts his grip on Jackson so his arms are wrapped around his shoulders. He guides him out of the noisy bar and onto the jarringly quiet street. Owen still has some distance on them. All those years of army training gave him speed.

"Mark…" Jackson slurs.

"Shhh," Mark hushes. "I'm not talking about this here."

"It was just one beer."

Mark rolls his eyes. "And I'm the Prince of Dubai." He looks both ways and guides him across the street.

"Okay, so two."

"Jackson, haven't you ever heard the expression "you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law"?"

Jackson snorts. "You're a lawyer now? Or a cop?"

"I have a feeling I'll be playing warden soon enough."

Derek and Alex don't reach the parking lot until Mark is helping Jackson into the backseat. Meredith doesn't look pleased. Mark never worried about disappointing his own parents. He didn't care enough about them for that. The closest he came to that was when Frances Shepherd would get upset with him and Derek. That Look could stop a top from spinning round.

Meredith has an eerily similar look. Mark didn't do anything wrong and even he straightens up under it.

Mark straps Jackson into the back. He searches around for a moment before finding an old McDonalds bag.

"Aim for that and not the windows, please."

"I don't feel sick," Jackson argues.

"I'm not taking any chances."

Mark gets behind the wheel and heads for home. The bag rustles, but there's no sound of gagging.

"Mark," Jackson's voice still slurs.

"We're not discussing it now."

"I had more than 2."

"You don't say."

"Think the shots were a mistake."

Mark turns on the blinker as they reach the light. "Likely."

"At least I don't have to work tomorrow."

"A blessing to any patient who doesn't deserve to have a hungover surgeon work on them."

There's a beat of silence. "Are you mad at me?"

"I said I don't want to talk right now."

"Are you mad at me?" Jackson repeats.

"I said…"

"Please tell me you're not mad at me."

Mark glances in the rearview mirror. Jackson's eyes are wide. Still glazed with rum colored glasses but there's a bit of genuine fear in there. Mark sighs. One of the many things Addison said he'd have to work on in order to be a good dad, is being a pushover. He needs to follow through with a punishment here.

Yet, he also doesn't like the fear on Jackson's face.

"I'm not mad," he whispers.

Jackson relaxes a bit. "Not mad?"

"Not mad," Mark promises. "Disappointed. Worried. Not mad."

Jackson snuggles against the seat, his thumb entering his mouth. Mark sighs, shaking his head as he returns his eyes to the road.

Jackson is extra wiggly when drunk. Mark decides to forgo pajamas for one evening and is pleased that he can even maneuver a nighttime pull-up on the boy. It feels so weird to shift one on an inebriated man, but even when older Jackson has issues making it to the bathroom at night. Mark can only imagine what adding alcohol will do.

He isn't sure where Jackson is mentally when he tucks him in. The young surgeon fights the pull-up but is also whining and holding onto his puppy for dear life. His thumb goes in his mouth. He doesn't protest when it's swapped for a pacifier.

"This is exactly why they say Littles shouldn't drink," Mark mumbles as he puts a bowl besides Jackson's head. He also places two Tylenol and a bottle of water paired with a note that says " take me ".

What space Jackson will wake up in is a mystery, but at least he's covering his bases.

Mark pulls the covers up over the boy and kisses his forehead. Jackson is restless, kicking his legs and sucking his pacifier as he clearly fights sleep.

"Get some sleep, alright? I'll be in my room." He gives Jackson another kiss. "Disappointed, not mad, alright?"

Jackson nods. Mark shuts off the lamp but leaves the hall light on as he heads down the hall. He's about ready to dress for bed when he feels his phone buzz. Mark has to put Jackson's up before grabbing his own. There's a text from Derek.

Derek: How's Jackson?

Mark: About to sleep. Probably gonna feel like ass tomorrow.

Derek: Likely.

Mark: Alex?

Derek: Meredith is putting him to bed. Hunt says April already puked.

Mark: Figures.

He thinks it's safe to start getting ready again when the phone buzzes again.

Derek: Mark?

Mark: Trying to get some sleep here.

Derek: Why did Jackson move in with you?

Mark frowns. Why is Derek bringing this up now?

Mark: I told you. His place is getting renovated.

Derek: I know someone who lives in the building. They say it's not.

Mark blinks a couple of times. Jackson brought up this flaw in their story, but he brushed it off. Mark quickly shakes his head. He'll fall asleep and think of another lie come morning.

The phone buzzes again.

Derek: Jackson's a Little. Isn't he?

Mark draws back a deep breath. He shuts off his phone, changes into some pajamas and climbs into bed.

He's the one that needs a few shots of Captain Morgan's right now.