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chapter thirty one ━ P.Y.T. (pretty young thing)
season seven, episode fourteen

❝ my whole life at the moment
consists of trucks, cabins and spoons. ❞

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T'was the morning before Aliya's twenty ninth birthday, and she was seriously beginning to consider booking a one way ticket to Greece.

The thing was that she was actually being deadly seriously about this whole spontaneously uprooting her life to Greece idea.

The brunette yawned into her palm as the bright glare from her laptop screen shone directly in her eyes at six am in the morning, her cursor hovering over the 'book now' button of the website.

"What do you think, huh buddy?" She stroked her dog's ear, where his chin was rested on her knee as he snored contently, not even moving an inch to put a stop to this Greece trip. "It's warmer in Greece."

She could get a flight this evening, straight to Athens.

Before she could reach over for her credit card, conveniently on her bedside table, a knock sounded at her door, and she almost wanted to pretend she wasn't home so she could continue living in this European fantasy.

"Aliya?" Alex called through the door, knocking once more.

"Come in!" Aliya hollered, her eyes still fixated on the laptop even when Alex came and sat on the bed beside her in a tank top and joggers, his hair scruffy from only just waking. "You've slept well."

"I had a crappy shift full of crappy interns with crappy questions about crappy patients." He complained, squinting at her laptop screen in an effort to see what she was googling.

"You work with kids." Aliya scoffed, light-heartedly, rubbing at her tired eyes. "You can't call your patients crappy."

"Why the hell are you booking a flight to Athens?" Alex gasped at the horror as he finally read the site Aliya was perusing on a random Wednesday morning, and gasped some more when he saw the date of the flight. "For tomorrow night! Are you of your mind!"

"Yes, and chill out dude, it's only a fantasy." She waved him off, closing down her laptop screen to signify that it really was just a dream, and the product of watching Mamma Mia! one to many times. "I'm not actually going to Greece, I was just checking to see if the option was still there if I ever feel the need to catch a late night flight."

"You had me for a second there." Alex sighed in relief that she wasn't moving across the world or taking a spontaneous vacation. To rest himself from the five seconds of stress, he laid back onto her throw cushions, his hands resting in his stomach. "You're still going to LA tomorrow night, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Aliya groaned with a frown, lying back down beside him, moving in an effort not to crush her dog. "I'm still going to my birthday party, orchestrated by my parents to welcome me into my twenty ninth year on this planet. I'm sure there will be insults and belittlement to accompany the canapés."

"What better way to celebrate your birthday." The Karev man replied, though he did feel like an enabler, waving his favourite person off into the belly of a lion. In this case, it was through her mother's front door. "Do you want me to come with? Strength in numbers, and all of that."

Aliya chuckled, turning her head on the pillow to face him and see if he was actually being deadly serious. "Remember what happened that Thanksgiving? She called you Alan all evening."

"How could I forget." Alex (goes by Alan on occasion) snorted.

"Anyways, Trent's flying over with me. It'll be fine." She nodded her head at the finality, mainly telling herself everything was going to be fine, rather than Alex. "I'll succumb to a worst fate if I don't go, Molly would kill me."

And, judging by the exchange of emails the two have had this past week, Aliya didn't doubt that statement one bit.

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25th February 2011, 8:54am

TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Your 29th Birthday Party

Aliya.

As you know, on Thursday the 3rd of March you are turning twenty nine. And, as your mother, you also know from my many many invitations I've sent you both electronically and through the post that I am hosting a birthday party for you, seeing as you refused to come to Malibu for your twenty eighth birthday last year, and instead got up to god knows what in that social experiment you call a home.

Therefore, I expect you to land at LAX at 5 o'clock, to arrive at the house for 7 o'clock.

No plus one's allowed unless you're engaged.

And, if you're engaged without me even knowing about it, don't even bother showing up.

Dr. Molly E Levine

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25th February 2011, 11:02am

TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: re: Your 29th Birthday Party.

Molly.

Because I'm in a particularly good mood today (the cafeteria were serving tater tots), I'll come to your party, on one condition.

Aliya.

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25th February 2011, 11:37am

TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: re: Your 29th Birthday Party.

What is this so called condition?

Dr. Molly E Levine

P.S. I have attached an article about the chemicals put in those things you called tater tots. Maybe take some time to educate yourself or you won't even make it to your twenty ninth year.

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25th February 2011, 1:18pm

TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: re: Your 29th Birthday Party.

Smoked Salmon Blinis.

Take it or leave it.

Aliya.

P.S. My web browser doesn't load false and misleading information about one of my major food groups. How would you like it if I started a slanderous conversation about caviar?

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25th February 2011, 1:45pm

TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: re: Your 29th Birthday Party.

Fine. I'll add Smoker Salmon Blinis to the list of canapés.

Dr. Molly E Levine

P.S. Caviar is actually nice Aliya, I'll ask the caterer to put some on the Blinis.

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1st March 2011, 9:32am

TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Making sure your still alive.

Aliya.

You haven't responded to my numerous emails concerning your outfit.

If you turn up looking like a hooker, so help me God, you'll regret it.

Dr. Molly E Levine

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Aliya thought it would be for the best if she ignored that last one.

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"It's horrible." Meredith complained as she leaned down to tie the laces of her sneakers, where she was now in the midst of an existential crisis.

Cristina rolled her eyes at the blonde's complaint, setting her hair brush down in her cubby as she swivelled towards Meredith. "It's the opposite of horrible." She said, pointedly.

"Make a pro, con list. That always helps." Aliya suggested, running her fingers through her hair to brush out the knots. "Alzheimer's or Diabetes. Sandwich or salad. Strawberry milkshake or chocolate milkshake. Cabin or spoon."

Of course, people don't usually have to make a choice between cabins or spoons, but the Alzheimer's trial had really changed the trajectory of her life.

With a disgruntled groan, Meredith's head fell into her hands in defeat. "It's all Derek's fault, he offered to let me help out with the stupid clinical trial."

"Hm." It was Aliya's turn to grunt.

However, it wasn't like she was unhappy Derek let Meredith on their trial.

Aliya could share, some of the time.

"Hey," Cristina rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that morning, snapping her fingers in front of Meredith's face. "If you continue to whine about how you can't decide which ground-breaking medical advancement to put your name on, I will punch you in the ear."

Judging by the Yang woman's glare, it wasn't just an empty threat.

"Well," Meredith placed her hands on her hips in turmoil, staring into her cubby in the middle of a thought. "My name is already on one of them, according to the Chief. I mean diabetes—"

"Affects two hundred and forty million people worldwide." Lexie informed, seemingly using her photographic memory for good use. 

Meredith sighed indecisively, massaging her temples. "And Alzheimer's—"

"Is the seventh leading cause of death." Lexie added, ever so helpfully.

Meredith nodded slightly, and the four woman sat in silence, considering the question of the day.

Cristina gasped in the realisation after a few more seconds of peace. "It's Sophie's choice."

Meredith watched her with widened eyes at the breakthrough. "It's Sophie's choice."

"I haven't seen that movie." Lexie replied, freeing her hair from her white coat.

"Great movie." Aliya informed through a huge mouthful of unfortunately luke warm coffee, giving her a useful reminder that she needed to stop at the coffee cart on the way to the conference room, where she would inevitably spend a good portion of her day interviewing patients from the Alzheimer's trial.

Her whole life now consisted of the Alzheimer's trial, but it truly was a welcomed distraction.

Cristina nodded to Lexie like a movie critic. "You should see it, it's really funny."

"Grey's," Miranda Bailey entered the residents lounge before Cristina could give a brief summary of the plot, her attention turned instantly to Lexie and Meredith, not giving any notice to the other two also in the room. "How long has your father been having abdominal pain?"

"Abdominal pain?" Lexie repeated back, her brows knotted together.

"It sounds like abdominal pain." Bailey said with a sigh. "Thatcher Grey is not an easy man to get information from."

"Our father's here in the hospital?" Lexie looked like she had just seen a ghost, more or less.

"Yeah, I admitted him an hour ago." Bailey raised a brow in confusion, her eyes going back and forth between the two sisters. "You didn't know he was coming?"

"What's wrong?" Lexie questioned, now worried about Thatcher's impromptu visit. "Could it be related to the liver transplant?"

"Of course," The Grey who didn't get along with said father all that much, rolled her eyes at the insinuation. "He's rejecting it because it's my liver."

Aliya smirked subtly at the comment from where she was pulling at the sleeves of her red long sleeved thermal that she wore underneath her scrubs because it was way too cold to function without layers. Even if the seasons were changing into Spring.

"Okay, look, just do me a favour," Bailey began, turning her attention to Lexie, the only one who would actually help. "I need you to go take a blood sample and try to get some more information out of him. I need someone who speaks Grey."

If Aliya found someone who was an expert in speaking Molly Levine, she may have had a half-decent relationship with her mother.

Though, she highly doubted that.

"Yeah." Lexie agreed, stuffing her stethoscope into her pocket and making her way out of the door.

"Right," Aliya yawned into her palm, grabbing her to go cup as she pushed herself from the bench. "I have to go ask clinical trial patient's if they can remember the words truck, cabin and spoon for the next five hours."

Cristina turned up her nose at that prospect, the clinical trial was interesting, everyone knew that, but some of the aspects may be considered far from it, to the naked eye. "At least not having a clinical trial means I don't have to do that."

Aliya chucked, shaking her head as she disagreed with the statement. "You'd give rectal exams all day if it meant having your name on a groundbreaking clinical trial."

Shrugging her shoulders, Cristina swept her hair up into a ponytail. "You're not wrong."

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After four hours spent interviewing Alzheimer's trial patients, Aliya was sat at the long table of one of the hospital conference room with her hands in her hair, staring blankly at the pages upon pages of data.

Though the clinical trial was one of the most exciting things she's ever done in her whole medical career, aside from burr holes in the field with a contractors drill, her lack of a good nights sleep really put a spanner in the works in terms of general motivation.

It was like having a newborn baby, up every waking hour of the night.

At this rate, Aliya was going to have to be buried with all this paperwork.

It could end up being her cause of death, there was no doubt about it.

"Holy crap! Your mom was smart." Cristina commented, hunched over the outline of Richard's diabetes clinical trial, which he wrote using Ellis Grey's old diaries.

Aliya had been catching snippets of their conversation about it for the past few minutes, and it did seem groundbreaking.

"Truck, cabin, spoon." Aliya didn't even move her head, her eyes just lifted to Alex, who was leant on his chair with his hands on his temples, reciting the three words that would haunt her in the middle of the night.

"Three for three!" Jackson hollered, high-fiving Alex in victory.

Aliya was wrong, something else was much more likely to haunt her in the middle of the night.

"My whole life at the moment consists of trucks, cabins and spoons." Aliya groaned, turning the page and stifling yet another yawn, which she took that as a sign that she needed even more caffeine.

Or, she was using up way too much brain power not to look his way.

Was it weird to be in the same room as her ex-boyfriend, who she was still in love with, who she was also angry at for a reason she wasn't even that sure about anymore?

Yes. Incredibly. Certifiably odd.

It was weird. That was the one thing she was sure about right now.

It was weird as hell, and the exit seemed to look pretty darn nice right about now.

"Crap! This is so good!" Cristina exclaimed, flipping the pages of the trial outline.

"Is it better than this?" Alex said through a mouthful of salt and vinegar potato chips, gesturing towards Aliya's data. "'Cause seriously, Mer, you'd have to have died of Alzheimer's to fail this."

"Hey," Aliya snapped her head back, her brows lowered as she pointed her pen towards him. "You weren't the one that just asked patients to remember three words for the past five hours. I've seen it all, Karev."

"I'll take your word for it." Alex strained a reply to the unusually crabby brunette, watching her with cautious eyes as if she looked like she was going to lunge at him from across the table.

"I don't even know if I'm doing it yet." Meredith muttered from the other end of the table.

"You have to." Cristina enthused, tapping the pages excitedly. "Mother daughter surgeons cure leading killer."

Aliya tilted her head, that would make a great headline, she would read that article. "That does have a great ring to it."

"I don't trust your opinion," Meredith fired back with a displeased frown casted at the brunette woman. "You just want the Alzheimer's trial to yourself."

"Maybe, maybe not." Aliya shrugged back, her voice breezy as she tapped her pen on her stack of papers. "Who knows."

"I mean," Cristina waved her half-eaten apple in the air like a prop. "I'm so jealous, and I'm doing a heart transplant on a baby that hasn't even been born yet."

"Will you shut up about this?" Alex grumbled, seeing as he was kicked off the case this morning by the new OB fellow who he had already managed to piss off.

"You're the one who needs to keep his mouth shut, Cabbage patch." Cristina fired back with a smirk.

"I heard about that from the nurses." Aliya acknowledged, looking over at Alex as he looked far from pleased. "I mean, come on Alex, turnip?"

"Screw this," He chucked his sandwich back onto his plate, sending pieces of cheese and lettuce across the table. "I've been on this case for a month."

He pushed the chair back, passing Lexie in a whirlwind as he exited the room she just entered.

"Meredith, you have to come see Dad." Lexie tried to encourage, her voice desperate.

The blonde didn't look up, seeing as Thatcher didn't remotely interest her. "Does he want more organs?"

"I mean, you have two kidneys for a reason." Aliya remarked with a shrug, scribbling down notes in the margins, stifling another yawn into her palm.

Meredith chuckled. "You're so right."

"One to keep and one to sell." Aliya grinned, gathering up her papers as she finished up with the last patient results and pushing herself from the chair in a hunt to retrieve some sustenance.

"Exactly."

"He wouldn't say," Lexie interrupted the organ-selling segue, quickly turning the subject back to the matter at hand. "He was too busy loving-up on a tattooed twenty year old."

The shock of Lexie's statement caused Aliya to send every single one of her papers that she had just neatly stacked all over the carpeted floor of the conference room. "Crap!"

"Exactly!" Lexie pointed to Aliya's reaction, though it was more to do with the new flooring she had just made with A4 printer paper.

As she leant down to start grabbing what felt like a thousand pieces of paper, a shadow cast down on the white sheets, and it was as if she had even memorised his shadow had been, knowing it was Jackson looming over her as he too started to pick up papers.

He mainted an odd yet careful distance, keeping their distance as they picked up the mess Aliya had created.

Damn it, why did the clinical trial have to have so much paperwork.

All the chatter about Thatcher Grey's 'tatted-up skank', and all Aliya could focus on was him. If he wasn't there, she would be all over Lexie's news, though it seemed that all of her senses were completely captured by him.

Jackson passed her the papers he had picked up, his skin brushing hers for the shortest second of her life.

"Thanks." Aliya strained a smile, and he simply gave her a short nod in response, his own lips pursed and his eyes weirdly glazed over as he turned back away from her, returning to his chair to resume his lunch and his own charting.

Bringing herself back to reality and out of a daydream that only seemed to torture her, Aliya cleared her throat. "I would love to stay and chat about this twenty year old your dad has acquired but, I have to go. Good luck with that."

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"Hey, how's it going, you paged?" Aliya greeted with as much positivity she could possibly muster as she entered the oncology ward, making her way to the chair Summer was sat in, in her final rounds of chemo.

"Hey," Summer beamed, shuffling in her chair to draw Aliya in for a hug, squeezing her tightly around the shoulders. "I need your opinion on a lip gloss for Tyler's, ex-girlfriend's sister's wedding, Candy floss dreams or Honey apple?" She held up two tubes of lip gloss, one a bright pink, one a deeper, more burgundy pink.

Aliya squinted at the tubes, slipping down into the armchair beside hers. "Honey apple, definitely."

"Perfect." Summer threw both Candy Floss Dreams and Honey Apple into her bag before studying her friend closely, under a mental microscope like she always did. "You look gaunt, want a Twinkie?" Frowning at Aliya's supposed gaunt complexion, Summer held up a wrapped Twinkie, dangling it in the air.

"I really love coming to visit you because every time I do I get these lovely compliments." Aliya said sarcastically, shaking her head at the Twinkie in disgust.

"How about Milk Duds?" Summer rummaged through her Mary Poppins bag that seemed to hold a bottomless pit of candy. "You love Milk Duds."

Aliya smiled, fondly with a laugh as the Vasquez woman tried to give away all her snacks. "I'm good."

"Hmm," Summer wasn't having it, returning back to the art of rummaging. "I swear I have some Swedish Fish on here too."

Aliya narrowed her eyes. "Stop trying to pawn your snacks off onto me."

"You just look—" Summer analysed Aliya's face, in a way that if Summer were a stranger, Aliya would feel incredibly self conscious. But it was Summer after all. She could never make Aliya feel like that. "Pale. That's all."

Aliya sighed heavily, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "I'm fine, Summer." She tried to assure.

"Okay." Summer replied, sceptically. "Have a twizzler to make me feel better?" She held out one of the red candy's that Aliya didn't even see her grab out from her stash.

"For you, I'll have a twizzler." Aliya took it, nibbling on the end of it. "Did you get the nurses to page me for gloss advice or was there something else?"

"I just wanted a bit of company." Summer stated with a shrug, pulling her blanket tighter over her lap. "Daniel had to head out and pick Eliza up from school. Just his luck right? Two of us having tumours." She laughed, though her smile didn't quite meet her eyes.

"Eliza's was benign." Aliya stated through a mouthful of twizzler. "That kid is the strongest person I know."

Summer nodded, playing with the edge of her blanket. "And, what about me?" She asked with a raised brow, watching for Aliya's answer.

"Who do you think she got it from?" The brunette replied, earning a grin from her friend.

Though, Summer's smile quickly faded as she reached over for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Aliya." Summer said, softly. Seeming to pick up on exactly what was racing through Aliya's mind. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. You were going through so much already with the shooting, Andy's death. Your nutty family. I didn't want you to worry that you were going to loose me."

Aliya understood to a certain extent Summer's reasoning, but it still didn't seem enough. But, none of it mattered anymore. Summer didn't want her to know in the beginning, and that's something Aliya had to accept. "I'm a doctor. I could've helped you."

"I know." Summer squeezed her hand once more, bringing it over to her lap. "Believe me, Aliya. I was going to tell you eventually. I just didn't want to worry you until there was something to worry about."

"Summer." Aliya's lips turned down, her expression sad. "It was cancer. That was something to worry about."

"Are you looking after yourself?" Summer quickly cut in, narrowing her eyes at the brunette's face.

"Summer!" Aliya exclaimed, irritated at her friend's tendency to change the subject, sinking into the armchair. But even then, she could not talk about changing the subject at the risk of seeming like a hypocrite, seeing as she did it all the time. "You have to stop changing the subject."

"You still haven't introduced me to your boyfriend—Ow!" Summer swatted away half of the Twizzler that had just landed on her chest. "What was that for?"

Aliya quirked a brow. "You know what it was for."

"Can we not talk about it?" Summer said with a sigh, dropping her head back into the pillow. "My whole life is cancer at the moment, I just want to talk about something else."

"Okay." Aliya nodded slowly, chewing on the inside of her lip.

"So—" Summer sank happily into her blankets, brining the soft material up to her chin now she had successfully shut Aliya up. "Dr. Hot."

Aliya winced, but that was partly because she accidentally bit her cheek a little too hard.

So, naturally because she was a terrible liar, she darted her eyes away, directing her attention to picking at the skin around her nails.

Summer's face fell instantly. "What happened?"

"Nothing." Aliya lied through her teeth.

It was safe to say that Summer looked unconvinced. "You look the same way you looked when you were four and you accidentally squashed a caterpillar."

The brunette's jaw dropped at the resurfacing of that anecdote. "I spent five hours building it a house, I was distraught." Aliya reminded her, mocking a sob for her four year old self.

"Seriously though, Aliya." Summer reached out again, tugging at her friend's sleeves as if she were trying to physically drag the information out of her. "What happened?"

"I—" Aliya began to stutter, her eyes wide as she tried to rapidly think of a way to dodge the question. "You've met him before."

"Not as your boyfriend." Summer said, a bright smile on her face as she said it in a way that seemed to transport her back to her old bedroom in her childhood home, gossiping about boys, reading those magazines that came with the tubes of lip smacker that may potentially cause an allergic reaction.

"Besides, he's not my boyfriend anymore." Aliya swallowed down whatever was left of the Twizzler in her throat, or maybe it was just that constant lump in her throat. "How about I get some trashy magazines—"

"What! How! When! Why?" Summer's jaw hit the floor at the news. "I already have trashy magazines, you stay right there—"

"I'll go get some more." Aliya interrupted, jumping up onto her feet.

"Hey! Aliya! Get back here!" Summer called after Aliya as the brunette, quite literally, disappeared from her problems. "Pick up some Red Vines while you're at it!"

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"Right, you're we're done for the day, go home, get some rest and we can pick this up again when you're back from LA." Derek announced, after a few hours spent looking over the data from the trial.

The woman sitting across from him frowned at the thought of going home.

The neurosurgeon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Or you can go help in the pit."

Aliya grinned, wildly. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Get some sleep tonight." Derek ordered, looking up at her briefly as he packed away all of the various pieces of paper. "We have a busy next couple days."

"More trucks, cabins and spoons?" Aliya said with a smirk, passing him a stack of papers as the two began to clear up the table.

"Better."

Aliya raised a suspicious brow, unable to tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. "Forks, mugs and four-by-fours?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Enjoy the ER, freak."

Aliya chuckled, exiting through the door as she made her way to the ER to offer a second pair of hands, and hopefully find someone with their internal organs preferably outside of their chest.

She needed to get into the operating room stat, she didn't care if it was only an appendectomy.

And as she got into the ER at nearly nine in the evening, it was if the world was punishing her with his presence, because of course it was Jackson manning the emergency room tonight.

It was even too late to turn away because he already spotted her as soon as she stepped through the double doors, his eyes trained on the way she stopped forcefully in her tracks, as if ready to turn on her heel and disappear back the way she came.

She watched him, their eyes connecting from across the room, a thousand words they wished they said in the distance between them.

Desperately, Aliya wanted to escape that feeling.

The feeling of things unsaid, of things that she wished she could say but she couldn't.

She hated him.

No.

Yes? No.

That was a lie, and she could see right past the charade she was putting on in her head.

She hated how he smiled, and the way he always made her heart erratic in her chest.

She hated how he was always just around the corner, always present. Both at home, and at work.

And, she hated how much of this mess was unclear to her.

So, instead of running back the way she came, Aliya made her way over to the front desk, forcing to put one foot in front of the other to get her there. "Is there anything I can do?"

In a rush, he shuffled some charts in his grasp, taking the one he needed out of the pile. "I haven't had a chance to see bed two yet." He handed her the chart for bed two, his eyes pinned directly on her in a way that sent her mind into a spiral.

"Okay." Aliya nodded, taking the chart from him and turning her back, making her way to bed two, feeling incredibly ill all of a sudden.

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One fractured wrist, a dozen frat boys needing stitches after a house party gone south and a head lac on the way to a CT scan later, Aliya had successfully kept her mind from going places she didn't necessarily want to go.

For a mere hour.

She stared at the clock opposite her, catching one minute to enjoy her vending machine coffee in peace, away from the absolute chaos of the emergency room.

And as quickly as he had entered into her life, Jackson came through the double doors at exactly the right moment she looked up after slipping her quarter's into the machine.

As the two doctors locked eyes from across the hall like they seemed to do all the darn time ever since they broke up, the tension that clouded them in unspeakable ways was insufferable.

The Avery man paused, his jaw tensing and Aliya could almost visibly see a thousand different emotions passing behind his green eyes.

It was almost as if his body flinched, as if it were his natural instinct to leave the hallway, but he still descended down it anyway, stopping hesitantly in front of the brunette with his hands in his pockets.

The woman before him now had her cardboard coffee cup and was clutching it almost to the degree of crushing it in her palm.

For some unknown reason, this encounter was neither awkward or uncomfortable. If it were anyone else, Aliya would be certain she would want to the ground to swallow her whole.

But, it was him.

The man she so desperately wanted but couldn't allow herself to have.

He regarded the clock on the wall, reading ten minutes past midnight.

"It's your birthday." Jackson commented, tearing his eyes away from the clock to face her again, the eyes regaining contact.

It was crazy to even say it but, right in that moment, it felt like eye contact was meant for them.

Aliya flicked her own eyes up to the clock, blinking at it as it told her she was in fact twenty nine years old. "It is."

"I—" Jackson pursed his lips into a straight line, crossing his arms across his chest with a short and subtle sigh. "I have a hundred things I want to say to you but, I don't know where to start."

Aliya's heart began to hammer inside her chest, her mind screaming at her to say something. Anything at all, at this point, she didn't care what it was, she just wanted to talk to him.

But, deep down she wanted so much more than to just hear his voice.

She wanted to feel his hand on her back, as he traced circles across her skin like he always did, and to feel his hand across her as he met her waistline. The way he always reached for her hand when they walked together, holding every one of her fingers. Or, even the way he brought her coffee in the mornings, always planting a kiss onto the side of her temple.

Being with someone for only two months was short, but Aliya felt like she knew him for a lifetime.

Those two short months were much more meaningful than the year she had spent with Mark, the three she had spent with Elijah, and the one and a half months she had spent with Kai.

He was so much more than all the other men.

"I usually pick a thought and go with it." Aliya offered him her advice, though in the grand scheme of things it probably wasn't worth taking into account.

"I know you do." He watched her unwaveringly, his lip even seemed to curl up only slightly into something that was even half a smile, though it was close enough. "What happened?"

He finally picked a thought.

She just hoped it wouldn't be that one.

Aliya chose that exact moment to take a long sip of her coffee, buying herself a fraction of time before having to give him her answer, though most of it was due to hoping she didn't actually have to respond to that particular question.

Hoping for a distraction, and open body cavity would do.

"When did it all go wrong? I've been racking my brain around for days Aliya." He paused, and Aliya heard his voice break as he trailed off. "Because I could say I know I can live without you but, that would be the biggest lie I would ever tell because, the truth is I can't. And I don't want to, Aliya—" He stopped himself, taking a breath before starting it all back up again. "God, Aliya how did—"

"Jackson—" Aliya breathed softly, and the term saved by the bell came to mind as her pager hummed from her pocket. "I have to—"

"Yeah." He spoke, disappointed at her lack of words of any great importance, because she always seemed to have so many available in her hand, but when it came to the things that mattered most, she was stumped, her cards pressed closely to her chest.

"I—" She glanced up at him, her pager in her hand.

"I know." And then he smiled, letting her drift off down the hall, growing further away from him, both literally and metaphorically.

⠀
—✩—
⠀

Frowning at the burger Trent had bought her for their flight to Los Angeles almost three hours after operating on the patient who had a CT scan, discovering she had a brain bleed, Aliya poked the fries around on her makeshift napkin plate, barely touching any of her food — except the milkshake, no emotional carnage that was the inside of her mind would make her not want a milkshake.

It was March 3rd again, and Aliya was off to her party, a party she didn't even particularly want to attend.

She specifically said to Alex she didn't want anything to happen this day, it was just another day.

Though he did enter her room holding a balloon and two 'birthday muffins'.

She didn't want to be reminded of the fact that so much had changed in the year — Andy died, Summer was diagnosed with cancer, she had a boyfriend.

Emphasis on the had.

It would hurt too much to be notified even more of how her life was changing all around her, too fast for her to even stop it. It felt like every single decision she made was the wrong one, like she was playing a horrific game of chess where she didn't know the rules, and her opponent keeps putting her in checkmate.

Usually it came easy for her. The decision making, along with the ability to mould herself into a hundred different versions of herself so she would be able to be liked effortlessly.

It seemed a lot harder to do that these days when she was both physically and mentally exhausted.

"Eat your burger." Trent filled the silence, narrowing his eyes across at his sister, who looked like she was going to burst into tears right there and then on the plane.

Aliya swallowed a fry, reaching for her milkshake as she tried to ignore the sickness in the pit of her stomach that may or may not have something to do with anxiety.

"You're too quiet." Trent commented, because now his sister was staring absently out of the window.

"I'm just tired." Aliya justified, tearing off a piece of the bread from her burger bun and popping it into her mouth.

"Partying hard last night?" Trent smirked in an effort to make her smile, wiping his mouth with a napkin after setting his burger back down.

"Oh you know me," Aliya scoffed, a hint of a smile across her lips. "Fifty shots of tequila every other Wednesday."

"Great for the liver." Trent nodded with brotherly approval, before clearing his throat and shifting awkwardly in his seat. "Seattle is rainy. I'm not used to it, LA is usually always sunny."

"That's a great observation." Aliya acknowledged his basic skills of deduction.

Even her brother was acting weird.

Weirder than usual, might she add.

"Great houses. Nice gardens."

Aliya raised a brow at where her brother, the King of segues, was taking this particular tangent.

"Fine real estate." Trent added on, nodding his head slowly as his sister grew even more sceptical by the second.

Well, to be fair to him, he was a real estate agent.

"I can agree," Aliya replied, her voice monotone as she studied his face for a clue. "Seattle has great architecture."

Trent waved a fry as if it were a prop. "The best doctors."

"Trent." Aliya pressed her lips in a straight line, her brows lowered.

"Aliya," Her brother strung out every syllable in her name as he set down his napkin, yet again shifting in his seat like a hyperactive toddler before saying something completely unexpected. "I'm moving to Seattle."

A smile broke across the brunette's face at the news. "You're what!"

"I'm moving—"

"No, I heard you!" Aliya beamed, clapping her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god!" She reached for his arm shaking it about manically in excitement, so hard she could've pulled off his limb.

Her brother chuckled at her reaction. "You're happy?"

"Happy? That's an understatement!" Aliya grinned, glad that she was gaining the only Levine she really, truly liked.

"I thought you might be."

"But, you're not moving to Seattle for me." Aliya said with an all-knowing grin plastered on her face — she knew exactly which red-head her brother had moved all the way to Seattle for.

"Yeah but,—"

Aliya gasped, cinematically. "The betrayal!"

"I'm—"

"Outrage!"

Trent sighed, rolling his eyes lightly-heartedly at her theatrics. "Oh for—"

"So April, huh?" Aliya grinned, prodding her brother's rib. "You know, don't hurt her. She's not the girl you date just to break up with, she's—"

"Don't do the whole, what are your intentions speech this isn't the 1950s." Trent pointed out, chucking a fry at his sister's forehead, whilst earning a disappointed glare from the flight attendant. "We've been together for nearly four months."

"Yes," Aliya reached for another fry, lobbing it back at him. "But, April is the all sunshine's and rainbows, slopping pigs on a farm in Ohio, raising five kids type. She's not someone you do it with casually."

"Aliya, I know." He said, gently. "She's not just a fling."

Aliya nodded, knowing her brother was one of the best men she knew. "Does mom know?"

Trent shrugged, nonchalantly, wiping his hands on the napkin. "She knows. Dying to meet her. She won't let me catch a break. And, she doesn't know about the move yet. So, don't tell her. Or, I'll be out for your head."

Aliya laughed despite it all. "It's your head have to worry about. Mom's gonna kill you."

"I know." Trent looked a little green in the aeroplane light, and it wasn't from the burgers.

"Wow." Aliya mused, slurping on the final two sips of her milkshake, before calling time of death. "A lot has changed in a year."

⠀
—✩—
⠀

"So, what have we agreed on?" Aliya asked Trent again as the pair stepped out of the taxi and onto the sidewalk, thanking the driver as they hooked their overnight bags over their shoulders and began walking up the driveway to their childhood home.

Trent shut the car door behind him, taking Aliya's duffel bag from her. "We don't tell mom about your relationship that's not a relationship anymore, or the fact that I'm moving miles away."

"Perfect. You're getting better at this than me." Aliya smoothed down the fabric of her dress, running a hand through her hair that had just survived a whole plane journey.

"Well, I learned from the best." He smiled across at his sister, who was doing the buttons of her powder blue cardigan up, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders. "Relax, okay? Just breathe."

"What? No, I'm fine." Even her voice sounded shaken, and she had reported to wringing out the sweat from her fingers. "I'm cool, I'm relaxed. One could even say zen."

"If you say so." Trent hummed as the pair stopped by the front door of the house, in all its ivy clad glory. "Are you ready?"

Aliya took a breath in an attempt to psych herself up. "Actually, I—"

"You're fifteen minutes late!"

Aliya didn't have much time to do any mentally psyching herself up after all, seeing as Molly Levine was already there, throwing open the front door as soon as the porch light lit up.

And, her expression was far from amused at her two children.

Aliya pressed her lips into a smile, turning to face her. "Hello, Mom. It's nice to see you too." She said, her voice sarcastic as her mother looked positively furious.

Molly's brow arched, her arms crossed over her black dress, the sound of a piano playing from down the hall. "I don't have time for all of this, now get inside!"

Trent gave Aliya a pointed look, seeing as they both knew she was the one who made them fifteen minutes late by getting distracted in the airport by the gift store.

"You okay, Mom?" Trent asked, though he really was only adding fuel to the fire. "You're a little stressed."

"Stressed? Never. Now, I'm not going to ask you again to get inside. You're late enough as it is." Molly ushered the pair inside the door, shutting the heavy oak door behind them as they started taking off their coats. "To your own party might I add." She cast a disapproving glare at her daughter.

"Mrs. Levine! Mrs. Lev— Ah!" The new maid, Sarah, who still seemed awfully cheery despite working for the devil herself, clapped her hands once she had caught sight of her boss. "When should we start circling the canapés, ma'am?"

"Do you know how to read?" Molly snapped at the young woman, whose blonde hair was tied up into a neat bun. "The handbook says they should already be circling by now! God! Do I have to do everything by myself?"

Her mother threw her hands down in frustration, marching off into the kitchen with Sarah trailing behind her, nodding her head silently as Molly began lecturing her on the art of decorum.

"You know what I really love about Mom." Aliya smiled after the woman in question, hanging her coat on the rack.

Trent placed down their bags. "Her perfectionism? Her wit?"

Aliya chuckled at his suggestions, mentally preparing herself for the numerous interrogations she would inevitably have to face. "She always remembers to wish her daughter a happy birthday."

⠀
—✩—
⠀

One thing about Malibu Aliya had always loved was the sound of the ocean, especially the sound of the water hitting the rocks.

Their backyard was a perfect spot to listen to it, on the deck chairs right at the bottom of their garden overlooking their own private beach.

There was something peaceful about it, something comforting in a way.

Aliya raised her martini glass to her lips, taking a sip before setting it back down onto the arm of the chair, a gust of wind sending her hair wild behind her.

"I thought I'd find you out here, this was your favourite spot when you were a kid." Travis squeezed his daughter's shoulder, sitting on the chair beside her, his wine glass in his hand.

"Hey, Dad." Aliya strained a smile, swatting a tear from her cheek. "I've become that predictable, huh?"

"Oh, Aliya." He said softly, once he caught onto how glassy her eyes had gotten. "I know this is probably not the way you wanted to spend your birthday."

"I just needed some peace." Aliya gave a sigh, closing her eyes and leaning her head backwards.

"Your mother isn't an—" Travis paused, swirling his wine in his glass. "Easy person to please."

The Levine woman opened on eye, glancing slowly over to her father. "Easy is an over statement."

"How have you been holding up?" Travis asked her, changing the subject away from her mother. "I know Summer's diagnosis and the shooting must've be hard on you, you know, if you ever need—"

"Thank you, dad. But really, I'm fine." Aliya tried to convince, but she wasn't even convincing herself at this point.

"There you are!" Molly approached the pair suddenly, marching across the garden path towards the pair, lounging on the deck chairs away from the party. "I've been looking everywhere for you. You can't just leave your own party. Do you know how rude that is?"

"Honey," A grin spread across Travis' face as he regarded his wife, reaching out for her hand. "Aliya has a headache, she just needed a quick bit of fresh air before coming back inside, alright?"

"A headache?" Molly quirked a brow at her daughter. "What kind of headache?"

"Um— the aching kind?" Aliya answered, not really sure of the answer her mother was trying to get from her.

Molly put her hand on her hips. "Where?"

"I just need a moment, Mom, then I'll be back okay." The brunette did her best to sound as convincing as possible, but even on her mother's good days she could never read her own daughter. "Surely there's canapés circling that need your expertise supervision?"

Molly simply crossed her arms, looking closer at her daughter, until she caught wind of her tear stained cheeks. "Why are you crying? What? This party isn't good enough for you anymore?"

"No—" Aliya swatted away the tear, removing its existence. "It's fine. It's just windy out here—"

"Is this over a man?" Molly gasped loudly, holding a hand to her mouth. "Please, Aliya. If this is over a many so help me God!"

"No, it's not." Aliya defended, massaging her temples tiredly.

"Who is he? Do I know him? What's his n—"

"Let's give Aliya a minute, shall we, hm?" Travis took that as his cue to escort his wife away from his daughter before another bickering match began between the pair.

Because Molly Levine seemed to have read her daughter for the first time in the twenty nine years Aliya Levine had been on this planet.

⠀
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⠀

( notes! )

i felt like april needed a love interest if i was going to take hers away !! 🫶🫶 i love trent & april so much already !! april out there bagging chris evans what a slay for her !!

this chapter is quite muddled so i'm so so sorry about that! i hope you enjoyed it still!

also, the emails between molly & aliya will never not be my favourite thing in the world, they argue so formally over email 😭

( word count! — 7,800 )