𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗗𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗘, greys anatomy

002

WILDFIRE
chapter two, season seven episode eleven

BANG.

And Victoria Shepherd was dead: one bullet to the heart, piercing her aorta. A spotless victim.

She wondered if people would miss her when she'd reach the pearly white gates. She wondered if the gates even existed. She wondered if she was absolved from all of her sins, considering she was praying, begging to God forgive her and all her wrong doings in her thirty-six years on earth. But there was no anointing of the sick—her mortal sins were still lying in the pool of blood soaking on her chest, gasping for air as she slowly couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. She wondered what she could've done to prevent this act of terrorism. She wondered why she had to die like this. She wondered why did the world have to be so screwed up. She wondered if anyone would rescue her. She wondered if her killer was gonna shoot her again, just for good measure. She wondered if she was dead yet.

     BANG. BANG. BANG.

One to the left lung, trachea, and head.

But what if it all was just a dream, rather than a reality? What if her subconscious was only making her relive her worst moment, but making it even more cruel and daunting? How sick.

. . .

      VICTORIA WOKE UP IN A cold sweat, breathing heavily as her hand rushed up her chest, feeling the dryness and the fact that there was no blood oozing down her skin. Thank God, she sighed in relief, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

These nightmares were bad after the shooting, but they were even worse without Thomas around. Tori felt guilty of pawning her trauma on him during the night when he was dealing with much, much worse. That's why before he left, she had slowly stopped waking him up when she was having an anxiety attack. She found her own way to cope without him.

After a few minutes of deep breathing and a glass of water, there was a few rapid knocks on the front door; Mark's front door. Yes, Victoria was still staying there, without Mark's knowledge. He'd been staying with Lexie in Meredith's attic for the past few days, given that they were back together again. No one knew how long that was going to last. Anyway...Victoria groaned, getting out of bed, walking slowly out of the bedroom. She was throwing on her robe, tying it shut before opening the door, a bit startled by who was on the other side.

"Okay, so picture this— I'm in Baghdad, and I'm starting to feel like myself again—"

Victoria stuttered, "What-What are you...how did you know I was—"

"Please don't interrupt." He shook his head before continuing. "Like I said, I'm starting to feel like myself again, seeing old friends. And I'm doing work that actually means something to me and brings me back to why I loved medicine in the first place. It feels like I can fly again, instead of just free-falling down the dark rabbit hole. But I'm having mental breakdowns and anxiety attacks, constantly, and then one of my old buddies finally asked me what's wrong, and I told him that I miss a special lady in my life, like-like, I really miss her. So then he asks me if I'm sure Iraq is the best place for me to be right now. And-And then I open my mouth to say yes, but...what comes out is actually no. And so I caught the first plane I could. And then I found myself here, standing right in front of you. You look beautiful, Vic. Truly."