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chapter thirty ━ the mark & aliya chapter
location: seattle, washington
timeline: february 2008 ━ june 2009
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━ playlist!
⋆ ౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
1. you're losing me, taylor swift
2. i can see you, taylor swift
3. babe, taylor swift
4. softcore, the neighbourhood
5. ceilings, lizzy mcalpine
6. better man, taylor swift
7. i know it won't work, gracie abrams
8. national anthem, lana del rey
9. sad beautiful tragic, taylor swift
10. scott street, phoebe bridgers
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"fighting in only your army
frontlines, don't you ignore me
i'm the best thing at this party,
and i wouldn't marry me either
a pathological people pleaser
who only wanted you to see her."
𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𖤣𖥧
— YOU'RE LOSING ME, taylor swift
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⠀SEATTLE GRACE HOSPITAL
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 19th FEBRUARY 2008 —
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"Oh my god." Watching in awe through the window into the trauma room in front, Aliya Levine tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as Mark Sloan looked into a mirror Meredith Grey was holding up for him as he sutured his own face.
"Why is he suturing his own face?" George O'Malley questioned, as if reading Aliya's mind.
"To turn me on." Cristina Yang replied back quickly, also seemingly able to read her thoughts also.
It had to be said that Mark Sloan, one of the most famous plastic surgeons on the East Coast, wasn't unattractive. Okay, he the simple fact was that he was hot. All the way from his blue eyes, to his scruffy beard, to well, you know what we're getting at here. That man must work out.
Aliya didn't think she had seen a man that physically attractive since Hugh Grant in Notting Hill, or Matthew McConaughey in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.
"Because he's Mark Sloan." Alex Karev addressed George's original question. "He's like the go-to plastic surgeon on the East Coast."
"That's the guy Addison slept with." George quickly realised in a hushed voice.
"I can see why." Aliya murmured, obviously not justifying infidelity. But, Aliya being twenty five and quite frankly, still single, she would definitely let a guy like Mark Sloan pick her up at a bar to take back to a hotel then sneak off without a word in the morning, like she did on Valentine's Day the other day, marking one year since her fiancée wasn't her fiancée anymore.
"I'm with Aliya." Izzie Stevens nodded as the brunette let her feet swing back and forth from where she was sat up on the desk, still watching as the plastic surgeon sutured his own face without even a flinch. "Can't really blame her, can you?"
Cristina's eyes never left Mark, despite being the only one in a relationship out of the six. "No, not really."
George made a face along the lines of extremely judgemental and complete jealousy. "Yes, you can."
"McSexy wants an X-Ray to check for fractures and I think it's a bad idea if I take him." Meredith explained as she approached the place they were huddled around.
George raised a brow. "Why? Why?"
"McSexy?" Cristina reiterated with a smirk.
"Hm—" Aliya pondered. "It has a good ring to it, not quite right though."
"McYummy!" Izzie suggested.
"No." The three other women spoke, abandoned by Alex who deemed himself having more important things to do than discuss anything to do with Mark Sloan's attractiveness.
Meredith had her eyes trained on the man in question, Aliya too. "McSteamy."
"McSteamy." Aliya repeated, looking back at the newly nicknamed man.
"Oh, there it is." Cristina approved.
"I think I'm choking back some McVomit." George grimaced, joining the four as they stared in McSteamy's direction.
Now that was an example of a man you would go for to forget the presence of all the other arrogant asshole men in America.
"You know what—" Aliya jumped off from the counter, swiping off invisible dust from her scrubs and straightening out her white coat, making sure she managed to get the coffee stain out. "I'm going in. I'll take him to X-Ray."
"No!" Izzie shot up, side stepping in front of her in an attempt to block her from his direction. "Why do you get to jump on McSteamy?"
Aliya narrowed her eyes. "No one is jumping anyone I am simply volunteering."
Izzie scoffed, unconvinced.
Aliya wasn't truly convinced herself.
George looked as if he wanted the ground to swallow him whole so he could be removed from the McSteamy, McSexy, McYummy narrative.
"You know what, Iz—" Aliya started, pointing an accusatory finger at the blonde. "You have cute country farmer heart patient, Cristina has Burke, cardio-god, Meredith has—" She paused in thought in the midst of rapid hand gestures. "Constant orgasm guy."
"Hey!" Meredith protested with a frown.
"Sorry." Aliya apologised, though continuing on with her justification of how she should be the one to take McSteamy to X-Ray. "Even George has hot ortho-goddess."
George groaned into his palm.
"Aliya gets McSteamy." Cristina spoke as if she was the judge on a global law case, her expression stoic.
Aliya smiled, fondly. "Thank you, Cristina."
"Go get some." Cristina urged, patting Aliya's shoulder with so much force it was as if she wanted to physically push her through the doors into the room Mark was waiting patiently.
"Great—" Aliya beamed, before realising the words 'go get some' had just left Cristina's mouth. "Wait, no?"
Cristina shrugged, pointing to McSteamy. "That's what you want right."
"I get plenty of, some."
"We know." Meredith, Izzie and George chimed in unison, all pairs of eyes on the brunette who may have a certain man who works in the offices down the block every other week, though it was the polar opposite of something serious.
"That seems hypercritical." Aliya commented, eyeing her roommates in suspicion seeing as they were in no position to judge. She averted her eyes back to her only supporter. "Cristina, you are my only friend."
With that, she turned on her heel, taking the papers from Meredith, fully aware as all eyes watched her as she entered the same room as Mark.
Though all of a sudden her stomach turned in knots as she stepped into the threshold of the room, getting the attention of Mark Sloan almost immediately.
And it had to be confirmed, that man was even hotter up close.
"So they sent the cute intern in." He commented, his phone still on and held slack in his hand. "I was wondering how long it was going to take to pick one of you."
"Well, we can't let such an important decision take less than five minutes." Aliya explained, matter-of-factly, stopping in front of the bed with her arms crossed, though she didn't know if that made her look self conscious which was something she didn't want to be perceived as by this man, but she didn't want her arms to hang limply by her side awkwardly.
She was overthinking it all.
"You're right—" He nodded slowly, his eyes staring directly at hers, unwaveringly holding eye contact like he had been doing it all his life. "Ten minutes to pick a person is completely reasonable."
"We were not out there for ten min—" Aliya defended quickly, though he held up his phone even quicker to display a stopwatch, the time paused on ten minutes and fifteen seconds. "We were out there for ten minutes."
He returned his phone back to his pocket. "Do I get to know the name of the doctor finally chosen, or do I just have to refer to you as cute intern?"
Aliya raised a brow whilst Mark simply looked at her intently whilst he waited for her to respond. "It's Aliya."
He smiled, lightly and in that moment she understood why he captured so many people's attention. She didn't know whether or not he was acting interested, but maybe that was another reason Aliya would find in the future that he was just so easy to talk to, from the eye contact to the frequent nodding of his head whilst she went on a million different tangents, he acted like he cared. Maybe it was acting, maybe he did actually care until he didn't seem to anymore.
"Aliya—" Mark prompted, drawing out the vowels in her name.
"Levine."
"It's very nice to meet Aliya Levine." He spoke, his mouth turning upwards into a grin as he held out his uninjured hand for her to shake it. "I'm M—"
"I know who you are." Aliya cut in quickly, taking his hand anyway.
Mark laughed, shaking his head as Aliya dropped his hand. "News travels fast, huh?"
"Like you wouldn't believe, this hospital is basically a gossip column."
Mark grinned. "So I'm famous? Hospital-known?"
Aliya shook her head, her lips pressed into a straight line in an attempt to stop herself from smiling too much. "That's not entirely a good thing, don't let it get to your head."
He shifted on the bed, leaning on the edge of it, closing the distance between them. "So what exactly are they saying?"
"A lot of things, Dr. Sloan. A lot of things."
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⠀SEATTLE GRACE HOSPITAL
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 3rd MARCH 2008 —
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Aliya's twenty sixth birthday was going extremely well.
She created a new tradition with her brother, Trent. Every year, he was going to fly to Seattle, they were going to go to the diner a few blocks from the hospital and have burgers, fries and milkshakes — a holy combination.
Though, now it was ten pm, and Aliya was perched on the edge of the couch, knuckle deep into a tub of peanut butter cup ice cream, and watching season two of The Office. She had died and gone to heaven until she heard the front door slam.
"Aliya Levine, get your ass up from the couch." Alex stormed into the living room, his hands on his hips.
"What?" Aliya tried to speak through a mouthful of ice cream.
"Joe's, you and me. Get your coat—" He moved to the hallway to the coat rack, taking one of her many coats from her hook. "Put your sexy pants on." Aliya heard, though she didn't want to, as she leaned forward to put the tub on the coffee table.
"Sexy pants?" She called back, looking down at her tartan pyjama bottoms.
"You never know. I'm protecting future you." Alex replied, still rifling through the coats. "You'll thank me later."
"I think I just threw up internally." Aliya muttered in distaste.
After another ten minutes of arguing over whether or not Aliya was going to go to Joe's (and her throwing on a pair of jeans and a nice-ish top, a classic outfit), she was perched on a stool an hour later, sat next to Alex with her fellow interns hanging around the bar somewhere, doing shots of tequila.
Alex looked pained on the fifth shot, a hand clamped over his mouth as Aliya threw her head back, taking the sixth as Alex clambered off of his stool and darted to the bathroom.
Leaning over the bar, Aliya's hair fell out from behind her ears, the brown waves falling around her face underneath a pink fluffy tiara reading 'birthday girl', Izzie's doing, along with a silk sash. "Joe, could I grab a vodka soda?"
"Vodka soda? After six shots of tequila?" A voice that had occupied her thoughts for the past two weeks sounded from across the bar, and the blue eyes of Mark Sloan caught hers.
The corner of Aliya's mouth twitched, her lips slowly curving into a smile as she took her drink with a thank you. Mid-sip, Mark crossed the bar to the stool next to her, taking a seat.
"And three beers." Aliya corrected, setting her glass onto the bar.
"That's an extremely dangerous combination." He pointed out, his brow raised up.
"What are you still doing here?" She asked, sceptically, a drunken pink flush on her cheeks.
Mark shrugged, taking a sip of beer. "Had some loose ends to tie up. It's your birthday, huh?
"No, I just wear this for fun and free drinks." She smiled wide, stirring the ice around in her glass with the straw.
"Smart tactic."
"I have not paid for any of my drinks so far." Aliya announced proudly, her head tilting lazily and limply to the side. She could no longer feel anything, her ankles had stopped throbbing from back to back surgeries which was always a plus.
Mark leaned towards her, getting closer to her ear so she could hear him over the noises of Joe's. She was pretty sure she had just heard George scream from winning a game of darts. He rarely won any games, Aliya had beat him fifteen out of sixteenth tries, she was embarrassed for him so she let him win on the sixteenth game. "It has the added bonus of looking good on you too."
She leaned her head back with a laugh, returning her gaze back to her drink, then to Mark. "I have been told pink is my colour."
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"Okay, okay," Aliya cleared her throat for dramatic effect. "I'm going for that one." She pointed her index finger at the whiskey glass sat on a table at the booth behind them. The glass still had some whiskey on it, though the ice had melted, the man who was drinking it was too engrossed in speaking to the woman opposite him to drink.
"Are you sure?" Mark questioned, brining his fresh bottle of beer to his lips. "Don't want to go for something easier? It's match point, Levine."
Aliya shook her head, straightening up as she picked a pistachio shell, closing one eye and aiming for the glass.
"Yes!" She jumped up when the pistachio landed into the light brown liquid, sending her bar stool flying across the room. "See! Told you I played volleyball in high school."
"Ah, yes. Pistachio shell bar games totally equates to volleyball skill."
Aliya looked over her shoulder, finishing off her drink, victorious. "Of course it does."
Moving closer towards her, he put his lips close to her ear. "You wanna get out of here?"
Aliya pulled away so she could see his face, and she wanted to remember the way he was looking at her, though she probably wouldn't. "I thought you would never ask."
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⠀SEATTLE GRACE HOSPITAL
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 7th MAY 2008 —
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"I'm on McSteamy's service." Aliya muttered, sinking her face deeper into her palm. "I think the world is punishing me."
The world was officially punishing her for some mistake she made, or maybe it was punishing her in advance for a future mistake. Who knew.
The thought of seeing McSteamy caused her nerves to do cartwheels in her stomach and she didn't know why.
Actually, she did.
"He's actually not that bad." Meredith justified, concentrating on her charting. Both Cristina and Aliya stopped what they were doing to stare directly at her, Cristina was wondering why she could think Seattle Grace's new man whore doctor could possess any redeeming qualities. Aliya hadn't thought like that at first, but the recent stories she had heard of Mark Sloan made it hard to hold back Aliya's judgemental tendencies.
From that one interaction back in March nobody knew about, yes he was very charming, and they did have that drunken night (five nights) together in his hotel room, but he went back to the East Coast, only to return to Seattle now. Though, he seemed to be screwing his way through the Nurses like it was the olympics.
Had Aliya been avoiding him ever since he returned to Seattle? Yes.
The pair narrowed their eyes at her and Aliya reached her hand to her ear like a mock-phone. "Hello this is Earth, we need Meredith Grey to come back down to us, please. This is an emergency."
Cristina took the imaginary phone out of Aliya's hand. "She may also be in need of a psych consult."
"And various forms of intervention."
"Funny." Meredith fake smiled, rolling her eyes. "No, seriously—" She rested her eyes on Aliya. "Give him the benefit of the doubt. I know you and Derek have the whole mentor-student thing going on these past couple months, but we don't have sides. We are no man's land."
Aliya considered this, eyeing the five charts on the desk in front of her — three botox and two burn victims. "If he makes me fetch his cappuccino, he's dead." Promising Mark's fate being in the hands of coffee, she said goodbye as she went to find him.
The whole trip to the nurses station where she inevitably found him slouched across allowed her to psych herself. She was going to be nice. Not something she usual had to pretend but she swore to herself she was going to tolerate this man.
"—I thought maybe you wanna meet in an on-call room, around—" The nurse scoffed, getting up to escape Mark's advances.
"Oh for the love of—" Aliya spat out with a smirk, disgusted under her breath as Mark swivelled around to her, a smile crossing over his face for just a second as he realised who it was.
"What's so funny?" His eyes narrowed, looking Aliya up and down as he studied her from her wide, brown eyes to her brown hair that fell down her back in waves.
"Oh, nothing. It's just—" She stopped herself.
"You can say it you know. We're friends." He crossed his arms, leaning on the counter. "You know, you've been very MIA, do you know the trouble I had to go through to get you on my service?"
Aliya pursed her lips. "We're not friends."
"We could be. We could grab a drink after work, head back to my hotel room, order room service, get those nice robes you said you—"
"That's not what friends do." Aliya quickly interrupted, placing the charts in front of him.
He frowned at her response. "I do that with my friends all the time."
"No wonder they stay friends with you." She replied, bluntly, though short after she laughed under her breath, the thought of how stupid she was for believing he could be anything more than he was entering her head.
"What's so funny?" He spoke light heartedly, though a worry line appeared on his forehead as he stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight from side to side, he looked like someone who had never been nervous before in his entire life.
"Oh—" Aliya stopped laughing with a shake of her head, blinking as she tried to think of the words to say. "I guess I didn't really realise it before, but I do now."
He raised a brow. "And that is?"
"Man-whore." She looked directly into his eyes as he his jaw fell open, only to close it tightly straight after.
"You're on scut." He ordered, his tone harsh, though the faintest grin spread across his lips as he turned on his heel when the brunette could no longer see his expression.
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⠀SEATTLE GRACE HOSPITAL
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 13th JUNE 2008 —
"I'm not having sex with you again, Mark." Aliya spoke sternly, tapping her pen against the chart she was currently writing in. It was getting robotic how many times in the past month she had to say that line, though she was protecting herself. He would never change, sure for the first few months he would be a dream, but he would never actually change. And sure, casual relationships were fun, but they always ended badly. "It was a one time thing. Highlight the one time."
"Hate to break it to Aliya," He took a seat next to her in the conference room, tapping her forearm. "But it was five times, and those times were—"
"Mark." She looked up from her chart, staring at him through heavy and tired eyes.
"—Unforgettable."
"Okay, yeah." She watched as his lips turned at the fact she had finally agreed with one of his statements for the first time in the past month. "It may have been unforgettable but, I—"
"Levine, I've been looking for you everywhere." Derek spoke, flatly, appearing in the doorframe of the room, looking as if her wanted to punch Mark directly in his face. "Ronald Sullivan's results have come back, we are taking him into surgery in an hour."
"I got his chart right here."
"Do you still need me for the surgery?" Mark spun around on the chair, and judging by Derek's face he took it as a no, pushing himself off of the chair and moving past Derek to the door.
After a few excruciating moments of silence following another verbal strike from Derek whenever Mark was thrown into the occasion (it had been happening all day on his service), Derek opened his mouth to finally speak. "Levine. I'm saying this— I'm saying it—"
Aliya glared up at him between writing the sentences on Ronald's chart. "You're not saying much, Dr. Shepherd."
The neurosurgeon rolled his eyes. "What I'm asking is, what's going on between you and Mark?"
Aliya slowly looked up at him, a nervous smile on her face that wasn't supposed to be there. "I can assure you, nothing's going on between Mark Sloan and me."
He took a seat where Mark was once sat, but the way he sat down seemed like he had a vendetta with the chair (how dare the chair let Mark sit on it!). "You've been looking at each other all day like you want to rip each other's clothes off."
"Derek!" Her pen flew unintentionally out of her hand, bouncing off the wall and onto the carpet rather unceremoniously.
"I've never seen— I've never seen Mark look at another person like that." He spoke thoughtfully, sinking back into his chair.
Aliya looked at him, confused at his sudden tone shift. "Like what?"
"Just be careful."
Narrowing her eyes, Aliya shifted in her chair, closing the chart and pushing it across the table towards him. "I really don't know what you are talking about."
"Trust me. Aliya." He replied, his voice sincere as he took the chart under his arm. "As a friend, trust me."
"Okay."
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⠀SEATTLE GRACE HOSPITAL
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 27th AUGUST 2008 —
It had been six months since Aliya had met Mark for the first time, four months since he had moved to Seattle, and two months since they started meeting rather frequently since Cristina's wedding.
Mark claimed to her that he was a sucker for anyone dressed in blue but in reality, they were both on the right street in Seattle at the right time where they bumped into each other — Aliya freezing in a strappy blue bridesmaid dress and Mark conveniently not wearing his coat.
And believe it or not, it had been the second time she had found a note in her charts.
'Meet me in the on call room on 4 - M :)'
"You didn't have to sign it off with M by the way." Aliya announced as she reached for her discarded scrubs, pulling on her pants. "Believe it or not I don't have more than one man leaving me notes in charts asking for booty calls."
He smiled, still led on the bed as Aliya pulled on her top, one of them actually had work to do that day. "Maybe I could take you out for dinner sometime?"
She stilled slightly, tugging her hair out from where it was trapped in her top. "We ordered take out last week." She dodged the offer.
"To a fancier restaurant than my hotel bed." He replied, pushing himself up, deciding he might as well put on his own scrubs whilst trying to reason with the woman who was fully dressed opposite him.
Crossing her arms, she raised a brow, eyeing him as he pulled on his own navy scrubs. "Do they have cheesecake?"
"Is that a yes?" He looked up from where he was tying his shoe, a devilish grin on his face.
Aliya shrugged. "Only if there's cheesecake."
With a grin, Mark leaned towards her, pressing his lips to hers before drawing away, tucking a lock of stray brown hair behind her ear. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight."
"So there is cheesecake!"
Watching her bright smile on her face, Mark ran a finger across her jaw softly. "Only the best institutions have them."
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SEATTLE GRACE HOSPITAL
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 2nd SEPTEMBER 2008 —
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Aliya looked up through her lashes, catching Marks eyes instantly from across the reception.
He smiled knowingly at her, showing the dimple in his left cheek. "Dr. Levine." He greeted as he walked past her.
"Dr. Sloan." She smiled to herself, not realising the five pairs of varying intensities of shocked eyes on her, watching her every move.
"What?" Aliya protested as they dragged her into the Nurses station, closing all the blinds as if they were operating an FBI investigation. "Hey!" She grunted as she was practically pushed into a chair, all five of them standing in front of her.
"You're screwing McSteamy!" Alex yelled and the fact that they had shut the door didn't even matter because the whole hospital was bound to hear him.
"What? No!" Aliya defended, instantly, before her eye twitched and Alex pointed at her, knowing she was lying through her teeth. "Maybe. Yes."
"ALIYA!" He shouted even louder.
"Alex!" Izzie whacked his shoulder. They all had wanted to do it.
"You know what, you go for it." Cristina enthused, leaning against the desk as she clamped a hand on Aliya's shoulder.
Aliya grinned up at her. "I have."
Alex grimaced, digging his face into his palm whilst George looked traumatised. "You brought us that cheesecake back from Triviani's, did you go there with him?"
"Yes."
All they needed was a bright white light and Aliya would be under investigation.
"Aliya—" Alex groaned, his head dropping into his hands. "I ate that cheesecake!"
"It wasn't tampered with!"
George crossed his arms. "It was quite squished."
"Oh— yeah," Clearing her throat she began to spin around in her chair, avoiding their eyes at all costs. "I dropped it on the sidewalk."
All six of them stilled as the cogs turned in their minds.
"OH MY GOD YOU HAD SEX ON THE CHEESECAKE!" George screamed, his hand flying to his mouth.
Meredith laughed, loudly. "I DIDN'T THINK YOU HAD IT IN YOU!"
"THIS IS GOLD!" Cristina joined in, clapping her hands together, her head throw back in laughter.
"I ATE THAT CHEESECAKE!" Izzie contributed, overlapping everybody else's screams.
"IT WAS WRAPPED UP!" Aliya defended, sinking back into her chair, covering a hand over her face as the rest of them shouted over each other, though about ten minutes later, it ended with them all mutually agreeing that Aliya deserved to get laid.
It couldn't have gone any better.
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⠀ALIYA'S HOUSE
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 31st OCTOBER 2008 —
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"Aliya." Izzie cleared her throat as she reappeared in the doorway, her arms crossed. "Someone is here for you."
Looking up from where she was currently carving on face on a pumpkin, Aliya wiped the pumpkin off of her hands, rising from her chair. "Okay." She drew out the word, slightly concerned by her roommate's mischievous and a little judgemental expression.
Making her way into the hall, she stopped short at the image of Mark, all messy hair as he stood there behind the glass, looking like he had just got slapped in the face.
"You can't just show up for sex!" Aliya exclaimed, throwing open the front door. "The sex faucet is off, I'm extremely busy."
He grinned at the frazzled woman stood opposite him. "You smell like pumpkins." Mark mused, leaning into the hallway, though remaining in the safety outside. "And I swear that's what boyfriends of over two months can do? Just randomly show up for sex?"
"Carving pumpkins is a very extenuating task." Aliya replied, matter-of-factly.
He angled his head to her, his voice lowering. "I can think of other very extenuating tasks for you to do instead."
Aliya chewed on the inside of her cheek in thought."That's tempting."
"My hotel room? Thirty minutes?" He offered the invitation, swaying in the doorway.
"We'll see." She turned on her heel, letting the door close once again into his face.
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MARK'S NEW APARTMENT
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 15th NOVEMBER 2008 —
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"Mark Sloan I'm officially freezing my ass off."
Aliya was thoroughly convinced this was the coldest it had ever been in Seattle since she had moved here. Her hands felt like ice, even in her gloves as Mark held onto it, pulling her along the side walk.
"Okay, it should be here." He stopped abruptly, catching Aliya by her waist.
"We've walked fifteen blocks." Aliya spoke with pursed lips, looking up at the tall building they had stopped in front of.
Mark squeezed her waist, pulling her closer into him, as he bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning manically at the building. "I gave you a piggy back ride."
"You dropped me in the snow." She pointed out, peering around to catch a glance of the snow patch on her coat Mark had tried to rub off, failing miserably.
"And I thoroughly apologise."
"Hm."
His face dropped. "Oh god, please don't hm you know how much it confuses me when you hm."
Aliya shrugged in response, though a smirk spread subtly on the corner of her lips.
"And when you shrug!" Mark added further, pushing her back by her shoulders as he turned her to face him head on. "Look how about I run us a nice, warm bath—Oh wait—" He caught the even taller building on the opposite side of the road. "Here, it's here! This is it." He smiled wide, taking Aliya's hand once more and pulling her through oncoming traffic and into the elevator to one of the highest floors.
"This is it?" Aliya grinned as Mark opened the door for her, stepping inside the apartment.
"This is it." He confirmed with a nod, leading her into the centre of the room.
"It's got great windows."
It was true, huge floor to ceiling windows across one wall opposite the kitchen, flooding the room with so much natural light.
"And?" Mark prompted, letting her wander around the room.
"Great kitchen." Aliya teased, though Mark didn't realise she was doing all of this just to push his buttons, it was her favourite past time.
"Yes?"
She was now peering into the two other rooms, her hands pressed into her coat pockets for warmth. "Good sized bedrooms."
"Exactly." With a nod of his head, Mark ushered Aliya to the ensuite, gesturing around the space.
"Two bathrooms."
"Convenient." Mark agreed, watching as she moved towards the built in wardrobe.
"Good wardrobe space."
At this rate, Aliya should've been a realtor.
"Always nice, you got yourself a sock drawer." He teased, nudging her elbow.
"Hm."
He watched her with narrowed eyes. "You're doing this on purpose." He realised, finally.
"It's a nice place." Aliya enthused, moving back to the kitchen. "Apartment-y." She said as she ran a hand over the shiny new counter.
"Apartment-y? Is that even a word?"
Aliya shrugged, opening the oven and peering inside even though it was highly unlikely she would ever use it. "I can make up words."
"I don't think that's how it works." Mark was now sat up on one of the stools, his hands propping up his head.
"Sure it does, all words are technically made up." She explained, not even looking up as she opened every cupboard and drawer, staring at each for ten seconds maximum. "It's a nice apartment, Mark." Aliya changed the subject, closing the final cupboard and joining him on the bar stools.
"Good." He grinned at her. "Because I bought it."
"You did?" Aliya said in surprise as Mark nodded his head, giving her knee a squeeze. "Wow! That's amazing! No more hotel rooms?"
"No more hotel rooms." Mark confirmed, slipping off the stool. "It was starting to get pricey."
Aliya followed him into the living room. "I'm gonna miss the room service."
"Why have room service when you have me?" Mark questioned, and she mumbled as he kissed her, his arms wrapping around her waist tightly. "How about I run you that bath?"
⠀
—✩—
⠀
ALIYA'S HOUSE
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 25th DECEMBER 2008 —
⠀
It was the second time Aliya had consecutively missed Christmas at the Levine household to stay in Seattle.
And in total honesty, she didn't mind at all. She preferred it even. There was less judgement and less far from subtle digs into Aliya's flaws and failures occurring before anyone had even cut into their dinner. And less interrogations about her current relationship.
Everything was going well in Seattle as everyone tucked into their food — Aliya had contributed by prepping said food but it was Bailey who cooked it all, Aliya being a hopeless cook and all.
Happily listened to the room talk about a whipples, bypasses and that crazy man in the ER the other day, Aliya chipped into the conversation here and there, smiling fondly at the family she had found there, whilst drinking a lot of the cheap sparkling wine Izzie picked up.
Though, as much as Aliya loved Christmas with all of her heart, it marked the first day she noticed something she didn't think she would ever noticed.
Mid conversation with Bailey, she said something that made Aliya laugh, and as she did so, her eyes unforgivingly caught Mark's handing lingering on Lexie's arm. Sure, it was the smallest touch that lasted seconds longer than it should've, but it was there, and enough to send Aliya's mind into overdrive.
Then she saw his thumb, rubbing her exposed skin back and forth, and then how they both got up from the table, his hand supporting her back as everyone rose up to clear everything away.
That's when she started noticing them out of the corner of her eye during the rest of the evening and for several months after. How Mark looked at her the exact same way he looked at Aliya in the beginning.
Aliya knew that face well enough that she could sketch it from memory.
Mark Sloan didn't make that face to anyone. And the very fact he was making it to another woman sent Aliya's stomach plummeting to the floor.
Maybe she should've just gone to California?
⠀
—✩—
⠀
MARK'S APARTMENT
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 22nd MARCH 2009 —
⠀
Aliya watched the man she thought she knew in the kitchen from over her book, narrowing her eyes as he silently chopped vegetables up and put them into the pan on the hob.
His phone chimed from the counter, and he peered over to take a look at who could be messaging him and his face lit up at the sight of the person. Aliya turned the page of the book she wasn't actually reading as Mark typed response, his smile stretching wide as he set his phone back down, moving on to cutting up the chicken.
A few minutes later, his phone rang from the counter. "Shit." He muttered as he stared at his hands, moving towards the sink.
Aliya set her book down on the coffee table, slipping out of the armchair. "I'll get that for you."
"Wait, no, it's okay I got it." He replied quickly, using his elbow to flick on the faucet.
Aliya advanced further into the kitchen to the counter where his phone was vibrating, yawning into her palm was she padded across the floor, abandoning her slippers by accident. "It's really no problem—"
"I said no." Mark snapped, a new level of harshness in his voice that he had never used during the fights they had. He set off the tap, quickly rushing for a paper towel as he ran back for his phone, that had now stopped ringing.
"Fine." Aliya pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling a wave of self-consciousness.
"Damn it." With a sigh, Mark set his phone back down as he missed the call.
Aliya chewed on her lip, her eyes trained on Mark's back now he was back to making dinner. "What's so important anyway?" Aliya spoke up, watching as his shoulders tensed up. "You used to let me answer your phone all the time."
"It's nothing." He defended, placing the cutting board into the sink.
"It doesn't seem like nothing." Aliya commented.
"It's always something with you." Mark spoke under his breath, though it was strategically loud enough for Aliya to hear as she was walking away.
She turned on her heel. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing."
"No, you said 'it's always something with you'." Aliya said, firmly as he moved about the kitchen some more, pretending to grab different utensils he needed, though he never actually used them. "What does that even mean?"
"It means—" He sighed heavily, reaching for an unopened bag of rice from the top shelf. "Nothing, it means nothing."
"It must mean something, Mark, because you wouldn't have said it otherwise."
He scoffed, cutting open the bag with scissors. "Just stop, I'm too busy for this. Just—"
"That's the problem!" Aliya pointed out, her voice growing louder, something she didn't mean to happen. "You're always too busy for anything! You're never here and when you're are here, you're somewhere else!"
He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he poured rice. "You're being ridiculous. This is ridiculous."
"How the hell am I being ridiculous?" He stayed silent as he poured rice into a pan to wash it, setting it back down in the counter. "Because I would really like to be enlightened."
"You make no sense, Aliya! God!" The slam of the cupboard only made her heart beat a millisecond faster.
"What doesn't make sense? If you would actually tell me, maybe we could figure this out! I'm sick of you lying all the god damn time!"
"Aliya—" Mark snapped, turning abruptly and fast, sending the bag of rice flying across the floor. "FOR FUCK SAKE!" He yelled even louder than Aliya did before, the rice scattered all over the kitchen floor as he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes in frustration, throwing his hands back down as he stared at the mess in the floor.
"I'll go get a broom." Aliya said, her voice annoyed as she moved away, and in that short space of time Mark had thrown his empty beer bottle onto the ground, sending one of the pieces of glass straight into Aliya's foot.
She stopped in her tracks, though she didn't feel any physical pain, the only sign was the blood turning the rice red.
"Oh, shit." Mark inhaled sharply as he realised what he had done, the anger in his voice disappearing. "Aliya I'm so sorry, wait there." Aliya couldn't even hear the sound of Mark's feet moving along the floor to the bathroom over her blood pumping in her ears.
She didn't even know what she was fighting for anymore.
⠀
—✩—
⠀
SEATTLE GRACE HOSPITAL
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 3rd JUNE 2009 —
⠀
"He should be here." Aliya spoke nervously, her fingertips tapping the surface as she trained her eyes on the clock.
"Aliya, he's not coming." Izzie was lent against the front desk beside Aliya, keeping her company as she waited for Mark.
The counter in her mind turned mockingly into the double digits, counting the amount of times her boyfriend had stood her up.
The first time, it was just a dinner date. his surgery ran longer than expected. The second and third time the surgery explanation was used. Then, by the sixth time she realised it was an excuse. The surgery board never lied and, he wasn't actually in surgery. He was spending all the time he was meant to be with Aliya with Lexie Grey. One time she actually walked into the cafeteria to them having lunch together, when he was meant to take Aliya to an appointment across town.
Those ten times over the past couple months accumulated, leaving Aliya crushed every single time, though she had come to expect it, it didn't stop her from feeling insignificant to a man she thought cared about her.
"No, he should be here." Aliya spoke as a person in complete denial, her head shaking as if she hadn't been stood here in this position many times before. She hated it. She hated the way he made her feel when he acted like this, like she was unimportant. "He said he'd be here at six to take us to the airport and it's thirty minutes past. He might be running late." She justified for him, god, she knew how pathetic those words sounded as soon as they left her mouth. She hated herself when she was around him.
"Why don't you go home? Get some rest." Izzie reached out, placing her hand on Aliya's arm.
"I'm not going to be the girl who waits for him." Aliya spoked decisively, squeezing Izzie's hand and bundling her bags over her shoulder, saying goodbye as she left, making her way to the car.
Once she was on the road, her mind powered into overdrive as she remembered every single moment over the past five months. Looking back, there were good moments, but then all of the bad times seemed to pile up high, so tall Aliya couldn't see where it stopped.
Last week, they went out for dinner, one of the only times Mark had actually remembered and just thinking that thought made her feel insignificant. He hardly spoke throughout the entirety of it, always checking his phone every minute and looking anywhere but Aliya's eyes. She didn't even know why she hoped for anything more than this, because meals like this seemed to become a routine.
She had seemed to have lost her appetite over these past few months.
Their fights became regular from January all the way through to the start of April, and almost always ended in Aliya or Mark leaving. Aliya tried not to cry about it, but she always did, it was undeniable the toll it took on her. It became to tiring to even try not to cry. It didn't even truly matter what they were fighting about. For example, Aliya leaving her paints out on the table in a rush to get ready or when Mark chucked away her paintings by accident.
Aliya couldn't recall exactly what their biggest fight was entirely about, but it bled into a mass amount of other things too — ranging from the unspoken subject of Lexie to how he hadn't met her family yet to all sorts of meaningless tiny details. It ended with Mark pulling her tightly to his chest, though Aliya remained stiff and unwilling, tears flooding down her cheeks and dampening her hair as he whispered meaningless apologies and promises he never kept.
It didn't have to be important, they were just fighting for an excuse to fight. She told no one about it, though the countless hours of sleep lost and her swollen eyes were a tell. Alex knew about everything, and on multiple occasions he told her he wasn't good enough for her.
Aliya was living her life on edge, like she did countless years before she met Mark, but it was in a different way. Before, it was all about her mother, the woman she had never trusted once in her whole entire existence. Now, it was Mark, the man several months ago she would have trusted with her whole heart.
And somehow, that cut even deeper.
Not to mention the times when she entered any given room, searching for Mark only to find him watching Lexie, no matter if she was or was not talking to him, he was always watching her, completely captivated.
All she wanted was him to finally look at her, to notice her but, he never did. Whether he was doing it intentionally or not, she would never know. At the end of the day, her stomach was always in knots, the butterflies had died and she constantly felt a lump of sickness in her throat, unable to shove that sinking feeling down.
Aliya had her hands glued to the steering wheel tightly. She didn't know how long she had been there, but she caught the time reading 20:02 on the dash.
All of the happy memories disintegrated as she realised what was happening around her, how she had ignored everything the people who knew her best were saying.
With all the strength she could muster, she snapped herself out of the haze and pushed herself out of the car, locking it behind her as she slowly trailed up the steps to the house, opening the door to the hallway, greeted by raised voices coming from the kitchen.
"I'm going to kill him when I get the chance!" A voice bellowed throughout the house, followed by the slam of a kitchen cupboard.
"Alex, calm down." The voice of Meredith strained over the thundering footsteps moving.
"Calm down? Seriously! When did you find out about this?" Alex voice had, in fact, not quietened down.
"Less than an hour ago."
"Shit." Alex groaned, another slam following shortly after.
"Why, Lexie?" Meredith addressed the third person Aliya hadn't know about in the room.
"It happened one time." Lexie's voice was shaking, from the way Alex was slamming cupboards Aliya didn't blame her. "Back in February. I didn't mean for it to happen, I didn't know they were together like that! I felt stupid so I tried not to but, then we kissed again I—"
"Oh for gods sake—"
"Lexie." Meredith interjected Alex.
"What's going on?" Aliya appeared in the doorway, placing her bag down next to the hutch, gaining the attention of the three of them — Meredith and Alex looked at her with unknown sympathy, whilst Lexie looked down to the table away from Aliya's eyes. After a few moments of silence of speechlessness, Aliya decided to ask the question again. "What's going on?"
⠀
—✩—
⠀
MARK'S APARTMENT
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
— 3rd JUNE 2009 —
⠀
Reaching across the tall, trench coat dressed man to her left to press the fourth floor button on the elevator, Aliya rocked obnoxiously in her boots as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her own dark navy trench coat. She studied the screen as it flicked to two. Then shortly to three. And then an excruciatingly long wait later that felt like a lifetime, it finally landed on the number she was waiting on.
The truth was that Aliya loved Mark. She didn't really know what love was, but from everything she learnt from the world around her, she knew that it was messy, challenging, imperfect. She knew their relationship was all three of those things.
Aliya also knew that Mark had slept with Lexie back in February, tried to resist her for months whilst simultaneously detaching from Aliya and treating her like crap until he finally kissed Lexie again last week.
She knew she deserved better than that. She used to feel pity for women who felt like this. She would think that they should just end it, save themselves the pain and belittlement but, she never really realised how hard it was until she was actually in a relationship like that. Where the good and the bad balanced on a perfect scale where one or the other could tip at any moment. She lived through that for months, until the scale tipped, and that was the moment she knew.
Her mind was already in a whirlwind when she reached the apartment door, bringing a fist up to knock. She already knew what she had to do. She wouldn't let herself get any more closer to him than she already was, let him do what he was doing to her any longer. She would be damned if she let herself be led on like what Elijah did to her.
The sad part was was that she already had.
The door clicked open and she met Mark's eyes. He was dressed lazily in an old grey shirt and sweatpants, his hair damp from showering. "Oh shit, Aliya!" He said, surprise, before his face changed in the realisation of it all. "Oh crap! I forgot—"
"Can I come in?" She cut in, not wanting to hear which excuse he would use this time.
"Oh! Yes, sure." He moved out of her way as she entered the apartment, awkwardly moving into the middle of the room. "Aliya? Are you okay?"
She turned back to him, her hair tangled in her coat buttons. "I need you to be honest with me."
Mark pushed his front door closed, advancing into the middle of the room to join her. "I'm always honest with you."
"No. No you're not." She tried to speak calmly, she was too tired to fight with him anymore. It was getting physically and mentally exhausting just being with him. "Mark, I know what happened."
Mark looked speechless, his hands digging into the pockets of his sweatpants. "About what."
"Mark—"
"Aliya, I can—"
"Just say it." She quickly interrupted.
"I slept with her."
"You slept with her." Aliya repeated, though she already knew this, she had thought it would be easier hearing come out of his mouth. But it only made it even more real.
"Yes." He didn't know it wasn't a question. He was never all that good at reading her, as much fun as he was, he never knew what was going on with her all that much. "Aliya? Please. Say something."
Aliya frowned, shaking her head as she pushed herself back up from the couch. "It's over. We're done." Her voice was breathy.
"No— Aliya— please." He reached for her hand, holding it tightly to his chest as he pleaded, his eyes piercing directly into hers, as if all of a sudden he realised what he had done over all this time, though he was too late to actually fight for her, instead of with her like he usually did. "We can work this out. It was a stupid mistake!"
"No it wasn't! Stop lying to yourself!" She snapped, tugging her hand away from him and stepping back, not wanting to fall into his apologises as she remembered the countless times she was curled up on her bed, sobbing uncontrollably into her duvet, wishing for everything to be like it once was. "Just admit it. She's the reason why you stopped caring. You quit this relationship long before this, so why the hell are you even trying?"
"Shit— Aliya." He paused, bringing his hand to his forehead. "It wasn't like that."
"What was it like then?" Aliya retorted. "Seriously, give me another explanation as to why you acted the way you did."
"But I love you. Aliya, I do."
"Clearly not enough." Her voice strained, willing herself not to cry in front of this man. "Because if you truly loved me, Mark. You wouldn't have done what you did."
His face dropped. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
She crossed her arms, tightly. "You wouldn't have even entertained it if you didn't want it to happen."
"I— I didn't mean it." He stumbled over his words whilst he paced back and forth. "It— It wasn't anything to do with you. It was—"
Aliya scoffed in frustration, running a hand through her hair. "Oh for the love of—"
"We can work this out, okay?" He reached for her yet again, and the fact he was trying to fight for them only confused Aliya more, but at the end of the day her mind was made up. "We can't just quit. Things like this don't just stop."
"They always do, Mark. I can't keep going on like this. I don't want to do it anymore. We are both miserable!" He opened his mouth to speak but Aliya quickly continued. "If we carry on, you're going to pull yourself away from Lexie, but you physically can't because you can't deny your feelings for her. And we deserve more than being two women fighting for your attention. I'm not going to let myself do that. I won't do it anymore Mark because it hurts being with you and I can think of a million reasons not to be with you anymore."
Mark stood there in silence, not knowing what to say as he brought his eyes directly to hers. He didn't even flinch as she turned on her heel, her boots hitting the floor as the door clicked open, then shut.
Finally in the refuge of her car, she slammed her palms down on the steering wheel. Her face was flushed red, her knuckles grew white as hot, angry tears flooded down her cheeks whilst the wave of hurt washed over her, and she was no longer able to contain her tears.
As she was driving home, avoiding the missed calls on her phone, not wanting to explain this to her mother. That night, she made a promise to herself that she was never going to let herself feel that way again, or to be treated in the way Mark had treated her.
She was never going to let a man make her feel less of herself again.
⠀
⠀
⠀
( notes! )
this couple is so taylor swift coded that even i couldn't stop it, it's a canon event (1989 tv vault songs were written for them)
on another hand, what gives the creators of greys anatomy the right to make the timeline for this show so darn confusing!!!! it actually pained me trying to figure it his out i'm really not that good at maths
anyway, here's the timeline i'm going to follow from here on out!
aliya levine's birthday = march 3rd 1982
season 1-3 = intern year (2007-2008)
season 4-5 = second year (2008-2009)
season 6 = third year (2009-2010)
season 7 = fourth year (2010-2011)
season 8 = fifth year (2011-2012)
OKAY BEFORE LEXIE IS INVOLVED IN THE NARRATIVE OF THEIR STORY THE CHOKEHOLD MALIYA HAS ON ME IS ASTRONOMICAL
ALSO I RECASTED THE COLOUR OF CRISTINA YANG'S BRIDESMAID DRESSES AND I'M NOT SORRY ABOUT IT
( word count! — 9,000 )