Breathe

1: Tell me your secrets.

I woke up this morning, and just like every other morning, I was getting ready to go to work. I drank my usual coffee for breakfast, and then I headed out to my car. One minute I was waving at my mother, and the next, I was blacked out. The last thing I remember is my father shouting my name. 'Alexandra!' He had shouted, and I heard the door open, then nothing.

I woke up in a tangle of wires and in a white room. Plain white room, white bed, white gown. There was a man looking at me. He was handsome, with luscious dark locks and a structured face. There was another man with dark grey hair- he was handsomer (handsomer? Is that a word?) with a nice jawline and he was taller than the first man. There was a woman with blonde hair, who was staring at my father, and there was a woman with even lighter blonde hair who could have been a model. As my eyes were fluttering and adjusting to the light, no-one had noticed I was awake. Then my mother Susan ran over to my bedside and took my hand.

"Andy! You're okay!" My mother sniffed, using the nickname I had had since I was little.
"W-what h-happened? W-where am I?" I asked, looking around.
"You had an accident, Andy, but you're gonna be fine. The doctors think... they think there's something wrong with you. You're underweight, but we'll fix that. They're overreacting. They're going to take you to the psych wing, have you checked out." Thatcher said, squeezing my hand. I retracted it the minute he mentioned my weight. Had they figured it out?

"Present the case to me, please, Dr. O'Malley. Glad you could join us." Said the man with dark hair.
"Sorry, Dr. Shepherd." Said a young man, running into the room. "This is Alexandra Grey, she suffered from a black out this morning when she was going to work. She hit her head quite badly, suffering a scar which Dr. Sloan was able to clean out and patch up without leaving too much damage. Her CT shows nothing wrong with her, but, her weight is alarmingly low at 3-" he recited perfectly.
"That's enough, O'Malley. We don't need to know everything about this girl." The grey haired man snapped. I blushed and looked out the window. Was my weight what had caused the faint? Surely not.

My heart monitor started going through the roof, and the man with black hair looked at me alarmingly.
"She's had a lot to process, why don't we leave her alone for a while so Dr. Sloan here can do some post ops and check on her health. Mr. and Mrs. Grey please come outside with me. I looked up at the grey haired man and closed my eyes again.
"Are you okay?" He asked, cautiously. At least he wasn't prying.
"I dunno. Aren't you supposed to be telling me that?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, so you're a feisty one, then?" He asked, grabbing my wrist. I flinched from the initial contact, but I didn't want to break the charade. The charade that I was okay. I wasn't.

"Everything seems to be okay, apart from your weight. And we're waiting for your blood tests back, which probably won't be great, if I'm being honest." He said, giving me a look. "You need to get back to a healthy weight. You are currently over ten kilos from that. You're over halfway to your death. You're young and you probably have a job and a family who care about you. I don't advise dying quite yet." He deadpanned, and I rolled my eyes. Why did he care? He didn't know me.
"That's true, Ms. Grey, but I am your doctor. I'm only here because you cut your face when you fell and I am the head of plastics." He said, and I touched my face to see where. It was my left cheek, right under my eye. I hadn't meant to say it out loud. "I'll be leaving this case soon, so you don't have to worry about me. But I am honest, and I am telling you: you're dying. You probably wear baggy clothes so no-one notices but I've figured it out. We're trying to get you to stay in the psych wing because you need help." He said, and I balled my fists. I didn't need help, I needed to go home.

"I'm not... I don't understand!" My father balled his fists, something we both did when we were angry. "She's fine! She just... maybe she's dehydrated!" He suggested, hopefully. He was realising I wasn't okay.
"Yes, that may be so, but we need to keep an eye on her. After two weeks, then we'll talk." Said the dark haired man, soothingly. He had a soothing voice. But two weeks?! I was fine.
"I don't need to be monitored, I'm fine! Stop treating me like some lab rat!" I shouted, gaining the attention of all the people in the room. Mum looked at me with pity, dad looked at me with agreement, and the doctors looked at me with confusion.
"You're not okay, Lexie, is it?" The dark blonde woman asked. "You... we think you have anorexia. That's not okay. At least you have a family who cares about you! Stop refusing help or you're going to die!" She snapped, walking out of the room. I bit my lip and stared out of the window.

I never corrected her about my name. All the doctors started calling me Lexie, and I couldn't be bothered to correct them. I had a new name, and maybe it could be a new start for me. My parents went home and got me stuff, like my eye mask and toothbrush, since I was moving to the psych wing. When I first got up, I threw up and nearly fainted, but Dr. Sloan caught me.
"You okay, Lexie?" He asked, looking at me with concern. I nodded and fought the urge to vomit. He must have seen it, because he brought me a bucket to throw up in. The nicer blonde woman, Dr. Stevens, held back my hair. Dr. Sloan held my hand and told me I could take as long as I wanted, and that he'd be there because he had no other surgeries. Dr. Stevens left after that. I guess she had a surgery.

It took me three more attempts to be able to get up and walk. We started by me walking to my bathroom, and Dr. Sloan had one arm around my waist and the other hand holding mine. Then we got out of the room, and the darker blonde woman saw us laughing.
"Sloan! What are you doing with her?" She demanded, giving him a look.
"I'm taking Lexie to psych. She tried to get up but needed help. Is there an issue?" He raised an eyebrow and she huffed, walking off.
"Why does she hate me? Did I do something?" I asked, looking at Dr. Sloan. He shook his head. Another man walked past us.
"Yeah you kind of stole her dad." He said, and Dr. Sloan shot daggers at him. I gasped and stared after her.

"What?!" I heaved, feeling the need to sit down. "Dr. Sloan I need to sit down." I bit my lip. "Mark. Please call me Mark." He said, lifting me up. "Oh my God you're as light as a feather!" He whispered, but I heard it. I looked away. He put me down on my bed and I watched him walk outside. He had an awful lot of confidence. He walked up to the guy who had said the thing about my dad and pinned him against the wall. I frowned.
"Are you crazy, Karev?" He demanded, "Are you a complete moron? This girl is 7 kilos away from death and fainted this morning, and you reveal to her that her half sister is Meredith now? What the fuck is your problem, man? You are going to leave Lexie alone and you are going to be taken off of plastics next week. Honestly, you need to get some sense knocked into you and next time it'll be with my fist, understand?" He snapped, walking into my room. The other guy stalked off.

"Oh, God, is that Meredith Grey? As in Ellis Grey's daughter? I'm... such an idiot! She'll hate me and she doesn't even know me! I bet she wishes I wasn't awake." I muttered, shaking my head. Mark took my hands. "Honestly? Yeah, she probably hates you. But let her get to know you these next two weeks. Show her the good stuff in you. I haven't seen it yet, but hopefully she will. Now are you ready to try again?" He asked, hopefully. I nodded and smiled at him, struggling to get back up. He smiled and nudged my ribs. I smiled back and nudged him with my elbow. It only took us ten minutes to get there.

"Bye, Mark." I said, peering up at him. He was at least a head and a half taller than me.
"Bye Lexie. I'll see you around." He said, squeezing my hand. I blushed and waved at him, closing my door and leaning on it, sighing. Dr. Stevens was staring at me.
"You have a crush on Dr. Sloan." She shook her head. "Don't. He's a playboy and you're so much younger than him. Then again, who am I to talk?" She sighed, sitting down on my bed next to me. "There's this guy. He's called Denny Duquette. He's a heart patient. I think I like him." She smiled. I stared at her. "I shouldn't have told you that. You can keep a secret, though, right?" She smiled, patted my knee and left.