౨ৎ in which aliya levine begins her third year of surgical residency with overbearing parents, an ex who left her heartbroken, a green eyed rich boy, a chaotic best friend and a pair of twisted sisters.
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chapter forty nine━this magic moment season eight, episode eleven
❝it's probably all that bleach in her head, makes her a little delirious❞
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"Practice, practice, practice until it is perfect, people. This is a long, complex procedure with many parts, therefore many opportunities for error." Owen Hunt spoke to the operating room full of doctors, nurses and anaesthesiologists, who were all listening to him, intently.
Like they had done for the past two weeks without fail. The countless times stood in this very OR, listening to every single speech he threw their way had prepared them for this day. Where they were actually going to operate for real this time after this one final practice.
Though, prepping for the conjoined twins' surgery did provide Aliya with a very welcomed distraction from what had happened two weeks ago.
The past two weeks since the ambulance crash and Henry's death passed in a blur, so much in fact that if someone were to ask her what she had been up to for the past fortnight, she wouldn't tell them.
She would probably lie and say everything was fine but in all honesty, these past two weeks were hell.
The first two days, Aliya was forced to stay off of work, recovering from her concussion, prescribed with pills to manage the headaches that still occurred even now. But, that was probably stress-related rather than the result of a concussion.
And, she hated everything about staying at home.
Though, when she said everything, she didn't hate staying at home with Zola, where the Levine woman had created numerous made-up games the two of them could play.
Though, Zola didn't fully understand the premise of the games, but Aliya didn't care seeing as she saw Zola as the light at the end of the tunnel.
After Henry's death, she couldn't stop crying. But, when Derek and Meredith came to see her in the hospital, Zola in their arms, the tears turned to tears of joy, and the dust settled, giving her another thing to focus on.
She held onto her distractions like prized possessions, and every time the tidal wave of sadness hit her shores, she threw herself into her distractions.
Whether it was work, entertaining Zola, baking, painting—
Well, and funeral arranging of course, which really was proving to be a pain in the head (also not conclusion-related). Mainly because she wanted to give Henry the funeral he deserved, and she couldn't distract herself from him forever.
