A/N I just had to write after the heartbreak of last night.
Mark Sloan sure loved his scotch. He loved it even more now that his Lexie-the love of his life was gone. Scotch did what he needed it to do. It dulled the ache in his heart. It made him forget everything that had happened on that day. It made him forget that he had held Lexie's hand until the end. It made him forget how much he had wanted to join her on the other side.
People were worried about him. He was drinking scotch like normal people drink water. Derek and Callie had tried to get him to see what he was doing to himself but he didn't care. Owen had, had to fire him for coming to work drunk on multiple occasions. Arizona had begged him to see a shrink but Mark refused. Even seeing Sophia didn't help. Though now his access to Sophia was being limited as well because of his drinking.
He had nothing. No family, no job. Everything had been taken from him and he just didn't care. Bottles and cans and glasses littered his apartment. He couldn't remember the last time he had cleaned the apartment or even showered and shaved. He was no longer starting his day off with coffee, but with beer and lots of it. Getting completely hammed before bed was a welcome thing because then he didn't remember anything. He didn't remember anything after he tumbled into darkness.
He had turned to alcohol shortly after Lexie's funeral. Meredith had asked him to say a few words at the service. He had done it-for Lexie but the gaping hole in his heart only made it that much harder to form words on that day. They had made arrangements for Meredith to take Sophia for the night because Callie knew that Mark wouldn't be up for taking care of his beautiful daughter and Arizona was still in the hospital and Callie wanted to spend the night with her. That night he just popped a few sleeping pills and let those do the work.
Even now, six months later Mark still hadn't hit rock bottom yet. He had heard whispers, mainly between Derek and Meredith, that he couldn't be helped until he hit rock bottom because up until then he was refusing any and all help. He was so sick of people whispering about him. Like he was a freaking pyscho. He doubted that Derek would be this high and mighty if it had been Meredith who had died that day.
Even Callie's insisting that Lexie wouldn't want him to do this to himself didn't help. She had tried every tactic in the book and then some. She had paraded both Richard Webber and Thatcher Grey in front of Mark. Well Thatcher Grey was the last person Mark wanted to see. Thatcher Grey reminded him so much of Lexie that looking at him was like a blow to the gut for Mark. After that particular visit, Mark had dove straight into his liquor cabinet and drank himself into oblivion.
He missed her so much. He missed the way her face lit up every time she smiled. He missed her sweet and giving nature. He missed her kisses and her hugs and smiles. He had gone to her gravesite once after the funeral but he swore he'd never do it again. It was too hard for him. His Lexie was in the ground when she should have been here on earth with him, planning a wedding and having kids just like he had promised her on that final day.
He was home, staring into a beer bottle. He had already finished a six pack and he was on his way through a twelve pack. Something was on the TV, he wasn't sure what though. Possibly a basketball game? He was on his fifteenth beer before his stomach lurched and he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the hardwood floor of his apartment. He staggered to his feet and headed towards his bed. He didn't stay on his feet long. His legs were like jelly and he was on the floor again before you could say beer. He smacked his head on a table as he went down and he blacked out before he hit the ground.
Several hours later, Callie found him on the floor with a pool of blood surrounding his head.