Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart

"I've never wanted anything so much, than to drown in your love and not feel your rain. Set me free, leave me be; I don't fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am, and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be. But you're onto me, and all over me. You loved me cause I'm fragile, but I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone."
- Gravity by Sara Bareilles

He stood right in front of her, his eyes locked on hers. She could feel the tickle of his breath on her lips, she couldn't hold out for much longer, she knew that.

"So, I'm going to ask you one more time," his smirk was gone now, but the intensity still radiated from his eyes, "Am I really so bad?"

She took a deep breath and closed the gap between their bodies, her lips inching closer to his. She whispered softly, "No, I am." Before closing her eyes and pressing her mouth to his. Lexie placed her cold hands against Mark's hard, warm chest, as he enveloped her in his arms.

They stood there awhile, with his arms wrapped around her and her lips pressed against his. They stood there and soaked it all in. She was here, in his arms, and neither of them had felt this right in so long. Suddenly Mark was reminded of all of it, all the reasons they broke up, all the reasons they couldn't be together, all the reasons he shouldn't be here, in this moment; they shouldn't be here.

Mark took a step back, away from Lexie. Her eyes fell as she watched him walk around her towards the door. She knew this was coming, though she hadn't suspected it would happen so soon. She tried to stop the tears welling in her eyes, she could wait until he was gone, she would wait until he was gone. She wasn't going to let Mark see them fall.

Mark stopped at the door, his hand hovering over the metal handle. Lexie's back was toward him, but she could still hear him breathing rapidly. There was a clicking noise, and a single tear slid down her cheek. Before she could think, before she could breathe, she was once again in his arms.

He kissed her fiercely, urgently, desperate to forget all the reasons they didn't work. He felt her kiss him back just as hard, with a passion he had missed more than he'd like to admit. She held his face in her hands, pulling it towards her lips and keeping it there. He walked her backwards, her body making a thud against the now locked door. He placed his hands on the wood on both sides by her head, trapping her between his arms. Their lips were fused together, never once parting. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth, desperate to taste her innocence again.

Her hands worked to undo his belt and then the buttons on his jeans. He kicked off his shoes, his socks, and his pants; all the while, his lips never leaving hers. Her hands were everywhere, weaving themselves through his hair, running down his chest, removing his clothes. Her touch drove him insane, the way she smelled, the way she was, it was all so familiar; how could this be wrong?

He felt moisture against his face, he tasted salt upon her lips, and for the first time in what seemed like hours, he pulled his hungry lips away. He pressed his forehead against hers and opened his eyes.

Though her eyes were still squeezed shut, he saw the tears trickle down her cheeks. He brushed his fingers across her skin, catching some of the wet drops. She opened her bloodshot eyes and his heart broke. He could feel the pain, the stab to his insides, the breaking of his heart; he could feel everything.

"Lex," his voice was barley audible, she had wondered if he had spoken at all.

She mustered all her strength to form the broken smile that spread across her face, she shook her head lightly, her forehead still touching his. She closed her eyes, before opening them and meeting his once again, "I missed you, I miss you."

He gave her a small smile, he couldn't help the flutter of his stomach at her words, "I missed you, too."

He crashed his lips to hers again, more urgent now. He had to feel her, all of her.

He pulled her scrub top over her head as they stumbled over to the bed. She threw off her shoes and pulled off her pants, as they fell onto the mattress. Mark lowered his body slowly onto hers, the pressure of him on top of her made Lexie smile against his lips.

At her smile, Mark smiled as well. This was perfect, they were perfect; in this moment, everything was perfect. He moved his mouth to her neck, placing kisses against her collarbone as she worked the rest their clothes off.

The urgency dissipated, their kisses slowed, Mark's mouth returned back to Lexie's lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She kissed him slowly, deliberately, before pulling her head back, resting it against the pillow.

His naked body was pressed against hers, it would only be a matter of moments before the inevitable took place. She pursed her lips together and stared into Mark's eyes for the hundredth time that day. It didn't get old, meeting his eyes. She had avoided them for so long, it was consoling, having the freedom to stare openly at him, into his piercing blue orbs.

Her lips curled upward, she was still broken, she was still hurting, but her smile was genuine. She kept her arms around him, stroking his hair. Mark returned her smile with a small one of his own, his elbows were on the mattress on either side of her, keeping the entirety of his weight off of Lexie.

She took a deep breath, keeping his gaze, "I love you."

Mark crumbled at her words, for a moment he just stared. It wasn't too soon, it was never too soon; she had just been afraid. It wasn't too soon, it was right now, now wasn't too soon or too late. Now was perfect.

He kissed her hard, desperately, as though she was the only source of his oxygen supply, as though if he would break at their separation. He only broke the kiss a second as he whispered, "I love you, so much." Before reconnecting his mouth to hers and entering her, they both moaned at the finality of reunion.

They laid in the bed, tangled up in each other. Neither said a word. They weren't talking, they weren't kissing, they were just laying with each other, like they had done so many times before.

Lexie ran her finger along his stomach, trying to keep her head from blowing up, blazing before their very eyes. It was like a waiting game, she had waited for this moment, to be in his arms. She had waited for him to come to his senses with Sloan and the baby. She had waited for him to tell her he had made a mistake in neglecting her, in not choosing her. And now, now she waited for it all to set it. She waited for the explosion.

Mark's silence killed her, she didn't know what he was thinking, she didn't know what he wanted, she didn't know how he felt; she didn't know and it killed her. She had to know, "Mark," she stated softly, her head still against his chest.

"I've been thinking about it," his voice once again emotionless, "why you and I don't work, I've been thinking about it, and it doesn't make any sense."

Lexie unwrapped herself from him, before he had the chance to push her away. She laid straight and still, she copied his current position and looked up towards the ceiling.

"I chose my daughter, she's blood, she's my blood, my DNA. I chose my daughter, because there was no other choice. She needed me, she needs me, Lex. I thought you of all people would understand that." Mark shook his head, glaring at the cracks in the ceiling.

Lexie sighed defeatedly, "I have to go." She sat up, making sure to hide her face away from his accusing eyes.

"Why? Because I'm telling you the truth? Because I'm telling you what you don't want to hear? Because you can't stand the thought of coming in second to anyone else?"

Mark could tell she was trying not to cry, she always took heavy breaths when she was trying to control her emotions. He could only see her naked back as she spoke, "Not to you." She spoke quietly, and yet with so much conviction he felt as though he was preparing for his inevitable destruction, that he would literally crumble to shards of his former self at the sound of her words. "You chose your daughter." She continued in the same tone, "You chose your daughter. She's your daughter." Lexie placed no emphasis on any words as she spoke. "She's your daughter, but you're not her father."

Mark let her words storm inside of his mind for a few seconds before urging her to stop, "Lexie, stop-"

She stood up and wrapped a bed sheet around her small frame. She faced him and then he knew. He knew that there would be no way he would make it out of this conversation with his dignity intact. He knew that she was going to speak the truth. He knew the truth will irreparably break him. He knew that he had made the wrong decision. Mark knew everything she was going to say. And he knew he wasn't going to make it out alive, he knew he didn't want to listen. "No." She replied simply, "No, I won't stop. You say I don't want to hear the truth? You say I don't want to comprehend your beliefs? You say I can't stand the thought of my placement in the grand scheme of Mark Sloan's life? Who the hell are you to say anything at all, Mark? You may have provided the genetic material that generated that scared woman you've come to know, but all you are, all you've been to her the past eighteen years of her life is a mere twenty-three chromosomes."

"Lex-"

"You want to talk to me about coming in second? How does it feel to come in last?" Her eyes turned a shade darker, this time in anger. They weren't just talking about his placement in Sloan's life anymore, they were hashing it all out; the breakup, the choices, the mistakes. It was all on the table. "You were her last resort. You think you're her dad? You can't raise her anymore, she's already formulated her own opinions, she's already experienced her own mistakes, and she's already learned what she's chosen to take out of her life. A life that you have not been apart of. She doesn't need you." Throughout her proclamation, her voice had risen with anger. Accusation after accusation aimed at Mark and his abhorable behavior. However, at her last words, her eyes softened and her voice came out in barely a whisper. "She doesn't need you and it kills you."

"Please, Lexie."

"You want me to handle my truths? Well, here are yours." Her words sliced his skin with a unfathomable delicacy. "She's scared, but she's not a kid. You want to take some responsibility, because you're a good man. But as a good man you need to realize, not all of your regrets can be reputably erased. Take responsibility in that. That you can't undo your past. You can't go back and make yourself present in that woman's life. She doesn't need you. She's learned to live without you. You have to accept that."

She sat back on the bed and placed his head in her hands, gently stroking his cheeks with the pads of her fingers. "You have to accept that Sloan is not at a point in her life where she can take care of herself and a baby. And you have to accept that, as equipped as you are, that baby doesn't deserve to be your second chance at raising a child. That baby isn't your way to make up for your absence in Sloan's life. That baby deserves a clean slate and a family that can give it to him."

Tears fell silently from Mark's piercing blue eyes, "You are a good man, Mark. Be a good man." She ran her fingers across his face, catching tear after tear. He knew she was right, he knew he had missed his chance with Sloan, he knew his grandson wasn't his catharsis on which to purge his sin. He knew.

Lexie placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. And then another one on his cheek, and then one on his chin, and then one on his nose. She placed delicate kisses across his face, as Mark closed his eyes and focused on the feel of her lips against his skin again. She placed a light kiss on his lips, and then another one, and then another one, before capturing his lips with the anger, passion, and remorse that their absence from each other had left them with. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her fingers ran through his hair as his tongue swept the inside of her mouth.

This was it. This was what they had been missing. This was why their lives had seemed so ordinary and meaningless. Without a means there is no end. Without Lexie, Mark ceased to exist. He had gotten it all twisted and mixed up in the beginning. He thought Sloan needed him, he thought Sloan and the baby needed him to step up and be someone worthy of fatherhood. He thought it wasn't about his needs or desires anymore, he thought that the mere fact that he had a child meant it wasn't about him anymore, he thought that because it wasn't about him, it had to be about Sloan. But what Mark didn't realize was that without Lexie, he would have never been able to come to this conclusion in the first place. That he would've never gotten past the fact that it wasn't about him, his whole life wasn't about himself. It wasn't until this very moment, the moment that he finally had Lexie back in his arms, that he could even fathom the perplexity of this situation.

Sloan was a fragment of his own regret, therefore by making everything about her, he was making everything about himself. It wasn't about him at all. It wasn't even about Sloan. Everything Mark was now, everything he could hope to be, everything he could hope to dream, it was all about Lexie. All he had to do was choose her, all he had to do was pick her. And he couldn't even do that. Lexie needed him, he needed Lexie, and he had thrown it all to hell.

The sound of his pager brought them back to reality, Lexie pulled away from him and stood up, "I have to go."

I wrote the second part when I first started this story, I hope it doesn't disappoint!

Reviews are love, love is chapters :)

-CapriJoy