A Beautiful Day To Save Lives - Jackson Avery

Chapter One

Ophelia closed her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. Funerals usually didn't get to Ophelia. Being a doctor, she was used to death. But there was a little something different about the funeral being for her older brother. She opened her eyes and saw the grey colour of the headstone, and her eyes traced the name: Mark Sloan. She squeezed her eyes shut again, and felt someone's hand slip into her's and squeeze her palm gently.

It had been a few weeks ago when she had landed at the SEATAC airport, small carry-on in tow. It had been Derek who picked her up in his shiny, black SUV. He had hugged her outside the car. "Ophelia," he said, with one of his sad, yet beautiful smiles, the kind he had perfectly practiced, "It's been too long. What? Three years now?"

"Three too many," She had replied with a soft smile, as he loaded her suitcase and opened the door for her. It was true. She should have visited more often. More than ever, she felt like she should have visited more often.

When Mark had gotten into the plane crash, she had hopped onto the first flight out of New York. Two days later she had received a call from work, which she denied. Four more calls later she answered, told them she was taking a leave of absence from her position as a plastic surgeon, just like her brother, and hadn't called them back since.

It was Derek and Meredith who took her to Mark's room. When she saw him, it was like her feet stopped. There he was, her brother, her big brother, with his salt and pepper grey hair, his smooth skin, with tubes and wires running everywhere. Of course, she knew exactly what each did, and why it was vital. And why it meant that he was still very much in need of medical attention. There was another young surgeon sitting in a chair, one foot propped up on his opposite knee, with soft, curly black hair and skin like caramel chocolate, asleep with his head propped up. Another doctor in blue scrubs and a lab coat, with beautiful, raven coloured hair sat on the opposite side. She looked up when she saw a presence behind the glass.

And that time, it was Meredith, Meredith who had never met the young, shaking plastic surgeon before, Meredith who had barely said a word, and would possibly forget her name by the end of the day, who took her hand, squeezed it softly, and led her into the room, to sit down next to two strangers who didn't know her, maybe didn't know of her, but knew how sad she was, and quite possibly loved her brother as much as she did. Ophelia would never be more grateful in her life.

Ophelia sat there, for days, as doctors came and went. She heard their private conversations, she heard them talk to her brother as if he were alive, but she couldn't bring herself to speak more than a "hello," to anyone. And after a while, a few of them started talking to her.

Callie Torres was the doctor with the black hair. "I'm an Ortho God, I break bones and I love it," she said as she was introducing herself. "Not nearly as much as I love your brother, but I love my job. And he loved you, Ophelia, he loved you so much." She said with a gentle smile, eyes shining with tears.

"He loved you, too," Ophelia managed to say finally, looking up at Callie. Callie couldn't help but notice how much Ophelia's eyes looked like Mark's. They crinkled in all the same spots, they were the same, gentle blue. "He called me, when you found out you were pregnant. He was so happy Callie, so, so happy."

Callie got up from her chair on the other side of Mark's hospital bed, and came and sat beside Ophelia. "We'll get through this, Ophelia. We'll get through it together."

"Lia," She said softly, looking at Callie with tears in her eyes. "He called me Lia."