𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊𝒊. OH BABY, LOOK WHAT YOU STARTED
─── INTO YOU
CHAPTER NINE...!
❝ oh baby, look what you started ❞
THE five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Each a metal bar to a prison cell, seemingly having no escape. The tired, agonizing pain filling through the once happy-go-lucky doctor as she laid in her bed, tears daring to fall from her eyes.
She was numb, she was tired.
And she just wanted her friend back.
˗ˏˋ INTO YOU ˎˊ˗
STAGE ONE : DENIAL .
"Lilia, you have to eat something."
Mark sat at the edge of the woman's hotel bed, with a bowl of warm soup in his hands. He sighed, seeing Lilia was not going to be responding to him anytime soon.
He hated this. He hated all of this. Seeing her this way, her back turned to him as she laid in bed. It had been almost a full day since George O'malley had died, and all Mark couldn't get the woman to eat. He knew the woman was one to make herself the best meals, seeing what she'd pack herself for lunch. And now? She didn't even bother to step foot in her own kitchen.
Mark Sloan only sighed, after staring at the silent oncologist in front of him, before walking out of the room.
˗ˏˋ INTO YOU ˎˊ˗
STAGE TWO : ANGER .
Lilia Love never got truly angry. Sure, she got annoyed from time to time. But she was yet to show anyone what really happened when she was full of rage.
So, when one of the first things Lilia Love said to Mark Sloan after not talking for a whole day were "Can you just shut up?!" ─
He was shocked.
That night, Mark Sloan slept on Lilia's couch, just in case anything would happen. Wrapped in one of her blankets, he was actually very comfortable. However, his rest was interrupted when he could hear commotion in the kitchen.
His eyes opened, squinting to see what was happening. He spotted Lilia, placing her things in her purse.
"Oh─ Lilia." Mark cleared his throat, making his way to the kitchen, "What, uh, what are you doing?"
"Oh, I was just going to head to the store." Lilia gave him a smile. It was the first one she had in a while, but even then, Mark Sloan could tell it wasn't genuine. It was a bit silent between the two, before she spoke up again, "Hey─ Thanks for staying with me yesterday. I really appreciate it. And─ I'm sorry you had to see me like that."
With that, Lilia gave him one more smile, before grabbing her purse, and making her way to the door, leaving the kitchen.
Her very messy kitchen.
"Wait─ Lilia, uh," Mark followed her, stopping her at the door, his face full of concern, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. I-I'm great. Don't worry, Mark." She gave him a reassuring nod.
"Are you sure? Because, yesterday─"
"Yesterday, I was a mess. And today, I'm not." Lilia told him, not being able to help but become a bit annoyed, "I'm fine, Mark. Really."
"The house─"
"Is a mess, I know." She finished his sentence, huffing, "I'll clean it when I get back."
"I'm just worried because─"
"God, Mark! Can you just shut up?!"
Lilia finally snapped, causing the man to fall silent. She knew she shouldn't had done that. She knew he didn't deserve it. At least─ that's what her brain knew.
But her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.
"Just shut up! Quit talking, and quit following me around everywhere─ thinking i'm some ticking time bomb about to go off. Okay? I don't need to stay home, I don't need to clean my house, and I definitely do not need you to take care of me. So just─ leave me alone. Can you do that? Can you just leave me alone?"
Lilia's breathes were slightly heavier than usual, as a silence fell between the two. The oncologist only looked at Mark for another moment, before leaving her home.
And only one thing held a place in her mind.
What the hell did she do?
˗ˏˋ INTO YOU ˎˊ˗
STAGE THREE : BARGAINING .
Lilia, in fact, did not head to the store like she had told Mark Sloan. Instead, she made a trip to a place that she knew would be a mistake to visit.
George's old apartment.
She still had the spare key he gave her, taking it out of her purse. She unlocked the door, opening it, to see the apartment completely empty. She figured Mrs. O'malley must've cleaned it out already.
Her sad eyes scanned across the rooms. The living room, where they had their movie nights. The kitchen, where they learned new recipes. The bedroom, that─ still had stuff in it?
Lilia's eyebrows furrowed, walking into the bedroom, to see his bed, dresser, and everything was still in there. There were a couple boxes around, so Lilia thought his mother had taken a break from cleaning his apartment.
She looked around the room, only being able to see George as she looked through all his stuff. And when her eyes landed on his wall, she couldn't help but feel a lump form in her throat.
He had hung pictures of him and Lilia above his bed.
She made her way over, pressing a finger on the picture, closing her eyes as she let a tear fall. Shaking her head, Lilia began to mutter.
"You can't be dead. There's no way you could be dead."
She opened her eyes again, looking at the picture, "Please, just tell me this is all some sick joke. Please, George. Please."
That was when she let out a chocked sob, bringing her hand to her mouth to try and silence it.
"I'll do anything. Just come back. Please."
˗ˏˋ INTO YOU ˎˊ˗
STAGE FOUR : DEPRESSION .
It was around dinner-time, when Lilia finally made it back to her apartment. She slowly walked through the hallway, and made it to her door. She let out a sniffle before unlocking it, not expecting the sight she saw.
Her apartment was clean. Spotless.
And there Mark Sloan stood, with a small towel thrown over his shoulder.
"Y-You cleaned it."
"Yeah, I─" He looked down, letting out a chuckle. He fell silent for a small moment, before looking up at Lilia again, "I know you could've done this on your own. But, uh, I thought I could maybe help."
Lilia's eyes only continued scanning the apartment. Her mind raced as she moved her vision from one piece of furniture to another.
George was dead. And Mark Sloan just cleaned her apartment for her.
And for some reason, both those two things caused Lilia mope in bed again for the next two days.
˗ˏˋ INTO YOU ˎˊ˗
STAGE FIVE : ACCEPTANCE .
Lilia sat in the intern locker room, in front of George's old cubby. She let out a small chuckle, seeing the collection of bottled water he kept.
She insisted on cleaning out the locker herself. But as her eyes scanned the storage unit, she couldn't help but resent her duty.
It had been a week since his passing, and Lilia still hadn't filled up a box full of his stuff. She just─ couldn't. And she especially couldn't today. The day his funeral would be held.
So, she sat there. Staring, and staring, until she could hear a familiar voice from behind her.
"You're gonna be late to the funeral." She looked back to see Mark standing my the door, before he began to make his way over to her, "Need a ride?"
She shook her head, letting out another sniffle. When he decided to sit next to her, she remained silent for a while, before finally speaking up.
"I was gonna give his mom a box of his stuff today." She told him, still staring at the cubby, "But I cant even pick up anything. It's his stuff. In his cubby. I-I don't wanna move it."
With that, Mark Sloan only looked at the woman for a moment. That was before he took the box that was next to Lilia, and placed it on the floor between them, "Then we'll do it together. Slowly."
Lilia let her water-filled eyes look at Mark. Her voice was softer than anything the man head ever heard when she gave him a small smile, "Thank you."
The man wiped a falling tear from her cheek, "You don't need to thank me, Lilia."
The girl chuckled, "Yes I do. You drove me home the night George died, and you didn't leave my side. Even when I was─ mean, and bitchy to you. You─ You cleaned my apartment for me, for Pete's sake."
The two shared a laugh, with Mark looking down at the floor, and Lilia looking at him.
"I never thanked you for that." She told him, the guilt for that being all she could think of as she faced the plastic surgeon, "Thank you, Mark."
"Anytime, Lilia."
And later that day, when the oncologist stood next to Mark, standing in front of the casket of George O'malley, she felt the breeze hit her back.
Laying a rose on his casket, she let out a heavy breath, accepting that George O'malley was in a better place now.
Even if it didn't feel like it.
˗ˏˋ INTO YOU ˎˊ˗
AUTHOR'S NOTE. |
hey long time no see
SOO i have no idea if people still read this book 😭 i haven't updated in a while,, which i apologize dearly for. i have trouble writing grief and stuff and i've been pushing this back for a whileeee.
for those who are still here, thank you for being sososo patient. i appreciate you so much <333
𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍.
1628.
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