Pretty Boy • Jackson Avery

chapter seventeen

TW: mild sexual content

7x03

Violet's shift ended a bit later than Jackson's, so by the time she arrived at the bar, she was watching the others leave. They greeted her as they squeezed past her out the door, heading their separate ways. Violet entered the bar and spared a quick glance around until she saw Jackson sipping his beer from a booth in the back corner.

She spared him a small smile before making her way over the bar and getting herself a beer before climbing into the booth, opposite to Jackson.

She greeted him, and within no time Violet was practically doubled over laughing at his recollection of Bailey freaking out about the spider in the O.R. Violet told him about Amelia, but left out Cristina's strange behaviour, she didn't feel it was her story to tell.

Finally, as he watched her finish off her coke, which she'd switched to after she finished her second beer, he found himself just staring at the woman before him with a faint smile. He watched her as she laughed softly, a hand covering her mouth, her eyes shut. Finally as her laughter died down, she lowered her hand and her eyes fluttered open. He watched the way her lashes fluttered as she observed him, and the smile on her lips grew slightly as she took in the look of admiration in his eyes, his gorgeous eyes.

"It's nice seeing you like this."

Violet looked down momentarily at his words, as she suddenly recalled Dr. Perkins' words. "I am recommending that you talk to someone. Whether a therapist, or one of your friends. You need to talk to someone about that day. You need to actually have a genuine conversation about what you did that day."

"Thank you." She blurted out, and he furrowed his brows. "For being there, after..." Jackson nodded, but waited for her to continue as he swirled a small black straw around her glass absentmindedly. "You know what happened to me, right?"

Jackson took a deep breath before responding, "I know... I know you got shot, and I know you took the bullet out."

Violet looked up at him for a moment, sighing before speaking. Take the plunge. "I held a nurse, her name was Katherine, as she died." Violet had found out the woman's name before she'd been discharged, partially out of genuine curiosity, and partially out of guilt for not having known it before. "I watched Gary point the gun at me, and I watched him shoot me. I crawled into that closet, and everything else was kind of a blur."

Jackson said nothing as he looked her over, the slight tremble in her fingers as she toyed with the straw and the way her mouth opened and closed a few times before she continued. "I remember it, though. I remember grabbing the supplies, putting on the gloves, making the cut, rummaging around," She visibly shivered, "I remember finding the bullet, and I remember just sitting there, knowing I couldn't close myself up as everything around me blurred. And I remember waking up with a tube down my throat. I remember not even knowing who I was, not knowing that I was the patient, it was like I was looking down at myself. None of it felt real, it still doesn't, honestly."

Violet finally looked up at him and met his gaze. She couldn't pinpoint what the man was feeling based on the look in his eyes. Was he horrified? Relieved she finally told him? Was it pity?

Jackson blinked rapidly as if shaking himself from his thoughts. "I'm sorry." He didn't say anything more, but she understood. Because really, what could be said? He was thankful, though, that she'd finally opened up to him. He'd told her everything while she was recovering in the hospital, about Derek, Cristina, Meredith, Gary... All of it. He'd expected her to return with a story of her own, but instead she'd changed the subject. He was genuinely worried that maybe she just didn't trust him enough to tell him what truly happened to her.