Lexie closed the door to the on call room, and stood in front of it, blocking Meredith's way out.
"Lexie?" Meredith asked, reaching a hand out for her half sister. "Are you...?"
"I didn't want to do this," Lexie admitted tearfully. "I didn't want to have to come to you for anything, ever. So I thought if I looked up your blood type, and it was the wrong one, then that would be it. Then I could just stop thinking about it."
Meredith nodded, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"But I can't," Lexie went on. "Because you have his blood. And I know that he's not your dad, I know that he was never there for you and I would never ask you to give him anything, he doesn't deserve a thing from you, he doesn't. But he's... he's going to die Meredith. And so I'm asking you to give something to me. I'm asking, I am asking you to give me my dad, because as crappy as he was to you, God, he was wonderful to me. He never missed a single dance recital, he was there at my 5th grade graduation, What is that? That's not even real. I know he's not your dad, I know that. But somehow you have his blood, and I don't. So I'm asking you, give me my dad."