A Beautiful Day To Save Lives - Jackson Avery

Chapter Four

The pastor in charge of the service began to speak. The soft hand in hers squeeze softly again, massaging at the base of her thumb. She slowly turned her head and looked to her left. There were those piercing blue eyes and that caramel skin. His eyes were as bloodshot as her own. She looked down at their hands, then back up at him, her lower lip trembling. He nodded once, and she collapsed against him, crying into his shoulder as he held her.

Neither of them could hear the words of the pastor, not over Callie's sobs, not over the blood rushing through their ears. It was impossible to believe this had happened. Lia had been staying at Mark's apartment, and she kept thinking she would be rudely awoken in the middle of the night by Mark, either carrying a pizza or a woman. It never happened. Lia lifted her trembling head enough to watch them lower Mark's casket into the ground, with a dull thud against the soft earth below. That was that. Her brother was gone and buried. All she had left was his memory and an empty apartment.

She wasn't entirely sure how they ended up at Joe's, but they all ended up there, every last doctor who wasn't on shift. Rounds were on the house, in memory of Mark Sloan. "I haven't seen you around here before," the bartender said, washing out a glass. "Name's Joe, what's yours?"

Lia looked up from the mixed drink she was drowning herself in. "My name's Ophelia. Ophelia Sloan."

"Sloan?" Joe said, the gears slowly clicking into place as his bushy brown eyebrows furrowed. "Shit. Lia Sloan. He spoke about you a lot, you know? So proud of you." He slid a shot of clear alcohol down the bar towards her. "On me."

She nodded at him with a smile and downed the shot as someone cranked the music pouring out of the speakers. Mark had never wanted a sad funeral. He had wanted celebration. A remembrance of everything great he had done. And looking at the way the strangers here were all knocking back drinks, laughing, and sharing stories, her brother would have absolutely loved this. He could almost picture him sitting on the stool beside her, one arm used to prop himself up, wiggling his eyebrows with that childish grin on his face. 'Go dance, Lia,' she could practically hear him saying, 'Look at poor Jackson over there, bored out of his mind with those interns. Go get him, drag him out there. Do it for me, Lia.' And she couldn't help but laugh. It was like he was still Right There, talking to her, egging her on like he always did.

"Fine," she whispered. "But only for you, Mark." She slid off her barstool, setting her drink down on the bar as gently as she could. The alcohol had definitely hit her, but she didn't care. Who here wasn't a bit intoxicated, really? And so she wove her way over to Jackson Avery with the beautiful eyes and tapped his shoulder.

He turned, slightly surprised to see her, but definitely not at all upset to have his attention stolen from the interns who were droning on about hospital gossip. "Lia, what's up?" He asked, "Everything okay," He took a sip out of the beer in his hand. She looked good, all things considered, in her short black dress and small string of white pearls, and those tiny heels that clicked whenever she walked. And her eyes. It was her eyes that got him. Blue, like Mark's, but so much warmer.

"Everything is great," Lia said, nervously wrapping her hair around her index finger. "I just got to thinking about what Mark would want, if he were here, and well. He would want me to dance. So here I am, asking you, to come dance with me." She felt embarrassed the moment the words left her lips, but she wasn't wrong. It's what Mark would want. And a little bit, admittedly, what Lia wanted. Especially when he was standing there in a white button up shirt, the top two buttons undone, and the skinny, black tie loosened around his neck.

"You want to go dance?" Jackson said, surprised, finishing his beer and setting the empty can on the table beside him.

"Is that a yes?" She asked with a demure smile.

"Oh, it's a yes."