Title: I'm Good, I'm Gone
Genre: Television
Series: Grey's Anatomy
Characters: Lexie Grey, Jackson Avery (mentions of Mark Sloane)
Spoilers:6x17 "Push"
Rating: PG
Summary: For the first time, Lexie felt like she was completely and truly being seen, and it felt good, no, it felt great.
Author's Note: Between Jackson and Lexie's AMAZING chemistry (Mark who?), and Lykke Li's song "I'm Good, I'm Gone" this ficlet was born. Now, if it would only become canon...can we PLEASE give Jackson a storyline, writers?
Lexie Grey knew that when people looked at her they were seeing her through different shadows, all serving to distort the real person beneath them. Those that knew her sister saw Lexie as an extension of Meredith, not as a whole, not as separate. For those people she was 'Little Grey', and when they thought of Little Grey their minds went to Meredith's infamous exploits before sliding downstream to Lexie's own pseudo known scandals. There was no doubt that risqué behavior ran in the Grey family, but Lexie would have preferred that when people whispered to themselves as she passed she'd known it was her they were talking about and not the latest gossip around her sister. She'd been popular in high school, she knew the rules of the game. The higher you fly the more the wind beneath your wings became harsh talk and bad attitude.
Maybe Lexie didn't mind that shadow, though, because if there were anyone whose shadow she didn't mind being in it was Meredith's. Lexie hadn't known what a difficult life was until she'd met Meredith, though certainly her own life had spiraled down into darkness with Meredith's introduction into it. She couldn't begrudge those hard times, not when it'd brought her into contact with her sister, whose steps she'd unconsciously been following her whole life.
Shadows weren't weightless, though, and the more that piled upon her shoulders the more Lexie had to struggle to bear up.
Lexie cowered in the darkness of her father's shadow, a blurred and dizzy weight that brought her sympathetic glances at the hospital and disapproving ones at Joe's Bar, when she dared to enter and imbibe a drink, alone or in a group. As the daughter of an alcoholic she, better than most others, was aware of the dangers of addiction. Some days were harder than others, though, and some days she couldn't take it on alone, not without liquid courage, without liquid fire burning it's way through her chest.
Mark's shadow was a different kind of fire, one in her blood and her womb and her heart. Meredith had tried to warn her of the stigma of dating a doctor when you were only an intern, but Lexie had inherited the Grey stubbornness as well as a penchant for scandal. She'd wanted him, despite his reputation, his own warnings, and her own logical mind. She'd never felt such a primitive and instinctive reaction to a man, no romanticism coloring her decision, just pure physical want. Meredith had been right, however, because Lexie's heart wasn't on her sleeve, it was lower and Mark had known how to play its strings flawlessly, novice though he was. She'd had to work thrice as hard to prove herself in the hospital after taking up with him, taking on the scut work no one else wanted, doing hours of research, sometimes fruitlessly, but she'd be damned if anyone would think she didn't deserve to be here.
Even Mark hadn't really seen her, Meredith's shadow and Derek's words coloring his perception of her, placing her on a pedestal high enough to idolize, but still close enough to touch. A pedestal was a pedestal, however, and her fall from grace had been rough and breaking. It didn't matter that their crimes had been the same, her punishment was much worse. Mark had long ago become used to the fall, old bruises healing faster for him, but her jagged edges were still grating and he'd already moved on, and that made it all so much worse.
Then there was George, and his shadow was heaviest, weighing on not only her but all of them at the hospital. Lexie could see the darkness of it in everyone's eyes sometimes, from Bailey to Alex to Meredith; she wasn't the only one who wore his shroud silently and willingly. As close as they'd been, she always so much closer than he, George had perhaps seen her less than most. He hadn't seen her at all.
Now, no Mark, no George, Meredith distracted by Derek's new promotion and its implications on her life, Lexie felt more alone than ever. Despite her new blonde hair, her struggles to be the person that deserved to be eye-catching and remembered, Lexie felt herself fading into the background again. She couldn't even remember when it'd begun, she'd never been a wallflower, meek and shy, but something about Seattle, something about those terrible shadows that layered themselves heavier over her everyday had begun to stifle her. There were some days where she could barely breathe.
Even just sitting here, in an empty office with most of the staff at home or over at Joe's, no one to bother her or make her feel these new insecurities more acutely, even now she could feel her windpipe swelling and choking her. The pen in her hand halted it's smooth writing across the page and her vision swirled to dark circles dancing in the desk light but the sensation of falling dissipated as quickly as it'd arrived and when she could breathe again she wasn't alone.
"Hey, Lexipedia."
"Don't call me that," she snapped without thinking, her head jerking to the right to glare at the man leaning so casually in the doorway. He started at the snap in her voice, a look shifting across his face so quickly that Lexie almost missed the emotion behind it, but she didn't and it made her apologetic. "I'm sorry, Jackson. That was...It's been a long night." Lexie left off that it was only the latest in a series of many.
"It's fine," he replied, moving into the room to take the chair beside her. He wasn't wearing his scrubs, instead wore only jeans and a sweater, and despite the romantic snarl her heart had become trapped in lately she couldn't help but note that he looked good.
Lexie smirked to herself as she returned to her work because she was fairly certain that he knew how good he looked. She wasn't sure when it had happened, this connection between herself and Jackson Avery, but it was quickly becoming the highlight of her days. He didn't ask her intrusive questions, or mock her endlessly as Meredith and Cristina were wont to do. "What are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same question," he replied, "I figured you'd be out with Alex, or rather 'in' with Alex." He reached around her to snag the patient file she'd been using as a reference for her report and thumbed through it lazily. He didn't notice the grimace that split her expression for several moments, or the way her fingers had clenched around her pen tightly for several seconds.
"Nope," Lexie replied, taking the file back from him with only a light glare. "That's...finished."
"And you made such a cute couple," Jackson noted, his tone revealing nothing, not that it ever did.
"Shut up."
"Is it because of Mark?"
Lexie stopped writing and put down her pen, turning her entire chair to study Jackson's face. "You're not one for asking personal questions, so why so curious?"
Jackson shifted almost uncomfortably. "No reason."
Lexie grinned but just tilted her head in response. Jackson was always so very hard to read, he had no 'tells' or expressions that gave away his thoughts. She'd noticed that about him very early on, noticed many things about him early on. The Art of War dictated that one know thy enemy, and Lexie didn't forget her lessons. Sun Tzu had also said that in knowing your enemy you would know yourself, and for herself and Jackson that was too true. He never gave anything away freely and she couldn't seem to stop herself.
"You want to go get a drink?"
The sudden question broke Lexie's train of thought and startled her enough that she couldn't stop the blush crossing her cheeks. "Are you-"
"No, I'm not asking you on a date. Or to have sex, since asking for a drink seems to be a metaphor around here. You just...you look like you could use one," he explained, rolling his eyes as if her idea of his interest in her was ludicrous. For a few seconds Lexie almost believed him, but from enemies they were coming perilously close to friends, so she didn't, not really.
"I guess I could finish this report in the morning, come in early and write up the second half, if I can remember where I was," Lexie thought aloud, already packing up the files and books for easiest recall in the morning.
"I thought you didn't forget anything," Jackson noted as he stood and waited for her to do the same.
Lexie shrugged and stepped past him, starting for the locker room to change out of her scrubs. "Eidetic memory is one thing, but finding the right frame of mind, the same thoughts and mindset that I was in is different. I can't have the exact same thoughts again and again, the same knowledge can be put together in millions of different ways, with different variables, and different-" She broke off, and shrugged softly, refusing to allow color to suffuse her cheeks again. "It's not a catch-all for everything."
They walked silently down the hall, and though Lexie entered the locker room, Jackson hovered just outside. Despite the fact that they all the residents changed in front of one another regularly she appreciated the modesty he was giving her. There was something about two attractive adults in a dim room with few clothes on that raised the awareness level between them, and neither of them seemed to want that.
Just as Lexie was pulled a shirt over her head and reaching for her sneakers, Jackson's voice echoed through the doorway. "Why can't I call you 'Lexipedia'?"
Lexie sat down on the bench and thought for a minute, her mind scrambling to find the words to explain why the nickname had begun to grate on her nerves lately, why all the little nicknames had become call signs for a person she was not. "People who call me Lexipedia call me that because they see me as something to be used. I might as well be a walking encyclopedia to them."
"Your friends call you that," Jackson defended, his voice closer as if he were stepping closer, though she'd have seen if he'd come into the room. Lexie pulled on her sneakers and set about tying them.
"Cristina calls me that, and sometimes Alex, which should only prove my point," Lexie explained, grabbing her jacket and stepping out of the room.
"Can I call you 'Little Grey'?"
"No," she replied immediately. "Why do you want to call me something other than my name?"
"Why don't you want me to call you by something other than your name?"
"Stop answering my questions with a question," she demanded as they made their way through the halls, instinctively ignoring the elevator in favor of the stairs.
"Your friends call you by nicknames. We're friends, aren't we?"
Lexie paused and turned on the stairs to face him so suddenly that he almost knocked her down them. "Is that was this is about?"
Jackson visibly stiffened his face and shrugged. Lexie felt frustration bubbling at his reticence to give her a straightforward answer, but since when had anyone ever given her a straight answer?
She sighed, and shrugged too. "I don't really have friends. I have sisters, and my sisters' friends, and I have men that I sleep with inappropriately and too much. The few friends I ever had here have either been fired, quit, or died. Honestly I don't know what friends would call me, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be anything people in this hospital call me."
That statement delivered, and her hands shaking from the effort of putting it into words, Lexie turned and continued down the stairs. It took Jackson several moments to follow, but follow he did. She was almost to the bottom when his voice found her ears once more.
"Can I call you Alexandra?"
"Only if I can call you Sonny."
"Okay, so...Lexie it is."
Now if only she could get that through everyone else's head.
Review, please.