In the on-call room, Lexie sat cross-legged on the bed, the flute resting on her lap, the sound of the soft music lingering in the air. Mark stood by the door, holding a small box of her favorite dairy-free chocolate candy-an offering he knew would get her attention when she was in the mood to escape.
He placed the box beside her, a playful smirk on his face as he observed his wife.
"You know," Mark began, his voice low and teasing, "you get really good at that flute. It's like you're trying to hide from everything."
Lexie didn't respond immediately, instead picking up a piece of candy and unwrapping it. She popped it into her mouth, savoring the taste, then glanced up at him. "I don't know why you thought you could bribe me with candy, but I'm not in the mood to talk about Derek right now."
Mark chuckled, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving her. "I wasn't planning on talking about Derek. I'm not even sure he's worth the air today." He paused, noticing the subtle shift in her expression as she set the flute aside and took another piece of chocolate. "But if you really want to talk about it... I'm here."
Lexie let out a breath, clearly conflicted. "I just... I feel like I should have been able to fix it. You know? I should have been the one to stop it."
Mark stepped closer, sitting beside her on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. "You did everything you could, Lex. Don't let him drag you down with his mess. He made the call. Not you. You were just there to pick up the pieces."
Lexie turned her head to look at him, her eyes tired but grateful. She knew he was right, but there was a weight she couldn't shake. It wasn't just about the patient anymore. It was about Derek. Her brother-in-law. Her family. And the pressure of being the one who had to help him through it all.
Meanwhile, down the hall in the lounge, Derek nursed another drink. The alcohol did little to numb the guilt coursing through him. His thoughts were a spiral, and he was spiraling fast.
The door to the lounge opened, and Derek stiffened as he heard the familiar sound of Mark's voice outside.
"I really don't get it, Derek. You messed up, but why are you punishing yourself with this?" Mark's voice cut through Derek's haze.
Derek's response was a low, frustrated growl. "I don't need you telling me what to do, Mark."
Mark didn't back down. "No, but you sure as hell need to stop trying to drink your problems away."
Derek snapped back, "And what? You think talking about it will fix it? What happened today is something I can't fix. I couldn't save him."
Mark was quiet for a long moment before his voice softened, "You've got a family who loves you. Lexie loves you. You don't have to do this alone."
Derek leaned back, resting his head against the wall. "She deserves better than me right now."
As Mark walked away from the door, heading back to Lexie, he couldn't help but glance toward the on-call room. It was clear his best friend was in a bad place, but Lexie... she had her own battle to fight, too. The pressure of holding it all together, trying to keep the peace between her husband and brother-in-law while also dealing with the aftermath of the surgery. It wasn't fair.
Back in the on-call room, Lexie finished the last of the candy, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the wrapper. She was quiet, her thoughts heavy.
Mark, noticing her mood, gently prodded her. "You don't have to carry all this on your own, Lex. Whatever it is, you know I'm here for you."
Lexie looked up, meeting his eyes with a small smile. "I know. I just need to process everything." She leaned into his side, closing her eyes. "Thank you for the candy. It helps."
Mark kissed her forehead lightly. "Anytime, babe."
The music from earlier started to play again, and for a brief moment, the tension in the room lightened. Mark let out a soft laugh. "It's kind of funny, isn't it? A surgeon's favorite escape is playing a flute."
Lexie laughed softly, the sound more relaxed than it had been in hours. "Yeah. I guess it's my way of pretending everything's fine. Even when it's not."
Mark simply pulled her closer, not needing to say anything more. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the understanding that sometimes, there were no answers to give-only presence.
Lexie finished the last piece of her chocolate and leaned into Mark's shoulder with a quiet sigh. "Okay," she murmured, "I feel a little better. Not good, but... functional."
Mark kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl. Functional is good. Functional means I can drag you back to work."
Lexie laughed softly and stood, stretching. "Let's go before someone sends a search party."
They stepped out of the on-call room just in time to nearly collide with Meredith-who, based on her expression, was in what Lexie had long ago dubbed her "dark and twisty drill sergeant mode."
"There you are," Meredith said, crossing her arms, eyes narrowing at the sight of them together. "I've been looking everywhere."
Lexie blinked. "Are you okay?"
"No," Meredith snapped, "Derek's holed up in the lounge nursing a bottle of whiskey like he's the only one who lost a patient today, and the Chief just called a meeting with Bailey about surgical oversight. So no, I am very much not okay."
Mark winced. "Well, that escalated."
Meredith pointed a sharp finger at him. "You don't get to be smug right now, Sloan. Your wife is the only reason that surgery didn't become a full-on disaster. Lexie, we need you in the debrief. Now."
Lexie exchanged a glance with Mark, who gave her hand a squeeze before letting her go. She straightened, squaring her shoulders as the calm she'd found settled over her like armor.
"Let's go," she said, her voice firm. "If we're going to clean up this mess, I'm not going in half-caffeinated."
Meredith paused, then finally cracked a smile. "You really are a Grey."
Lexie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I've been told."
Lexie walked into the conference room with her white coat buttoned, her hair pulled back, and her game face on. Bailey, Webber, and Meredith were already seated, along with a few department heads from neuro, trauma, and surgical admin. The atmosphere was thick-this wasn't just a post-op debrief; this was damage control.
"Dr. Grey-Sloan," Bailey acknowledged with a sharp nod. "Take a seat."
Lexie sat down, spine straight, hands folded. "Where's Dr. Shepherd?"
Webber's jaw clenched. "He's not coming."
Meredith said nothing, but her eyes darted away.
Bailey wasted no time. "Let's start with what we know. The trauma portion of the surgery-successful. Despite complications, you stabilized the patient within acceptable thresholds. But once neuro took over-"
"They lost control of the bleed," Lexie interrupted, her tone even but firm. "It wasn't a clotting issue. It was misidentification of the vascular path near the posterior insula. I flagged it in the sim. I flagged it twice during the real thing. He didn't listen."
Webber raised a brow. "You're saying Derek ignored a critical call?"
"I'm saying he hesitated," Lexie corrected, her voice calm but with a clear edge. "And in that hesitation, the window closed."
Bailey sighed and leaned back. "I'm not here to pin this on anyone. But the board will want answers."
Meredith finally spoke, voice low. "This surgery never should've gone forward without more simulation. Lexie wasn't wrong. Derek's... not been himself."
Lexie glanced at her, surprised by the rare vulnerability in Meredith's tone.
Webber closed the file in front of him. "Then here's what we do. Lexie, I want your full surgical report on my desk by morning. Bailey, start reviewing the protocol for mixed-discipline cases. If we're going to push boundaries, we're going to do it with guardrails."
"Yes, sir," Lexie said clearly.
The meeting continued with more discussion of department oversight and surgical scheduling, but the absence of Derek hung over it all like a cloud. When it finally ended, Lexie stood and walked out into the hallway, letting the weight of what had just happened settle on her shoulders.
Meredith joined her. "You okay?"
"No," Lexie said honestly. "But I'm not the one hiding with a bottle."
The elevator doors slid shut with a soft hiss, leaving Lexie and Meredith alone for the first time since the disaster of a surgery. Lexie leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the numbers counting up.
Meredith broke the silence. "He's not talking to me."
Lexie glanced at her. "He's not talking to anyone. Except maybe the whiskey bottle."
Meredith exhaled slowly. "I haven't seen him like this since... honestly, maybe never. He always bounces back. Always has a plan. But now? He's just... avoiding."
Lexie tilted her head, a soft crease between her brows. "Because he knows it was bad. He knows he blew it. He's not used to failing, Mer. Especially not in front of half the hospital."
The elevator dinged, and they stepped out, heading down the hall toward the breakroom. Meredith followed her sister to the vending machine, where Lexie crouched and peered in like it held the secrets of the universe.
"I think this machine hates me," Lexie muttered. "No dairy-free anything. Again."
Meredith rolled her eyes and pulled open the fridge instead. "Didn't you stash your secret chocolate in the back behind the yogurt?"
Lexie grinned. "That's the emergency stash. We're not there yet." She popped the door open and grabbed the bar, tossing it to her sister. "Here. You look like you need it more."
Meredith caught it with a raised brow. "That's a big sacrifice, Little Grey."
Lexie's smirk faltered slightly. "Yeah, well. You're worried about him. I get it."
They both sat at the table, silent for a moment as Meredith broke off a square and handed it back to her sister.
"Thanks," Meredith finally said. "For everything. For not letting him steamroll you in that OR."
Lexie shrugged. "You trained me better than that."
"Damn right I did."
They both smiled-soft, tired, and sisters through and through.