Fic: i'll be right beside you, dear
Title: i'll be right beside you, dear
Beta a-glass-parade
Author: gameboycolor
Characters/Pairings: George O’Malley, Lexie Grey. Mentions of various pairings up until Season 8.
Warnings: Character Death, MAJOR ANGST
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Supernatural elements
Length: ~1300
Summary: When she wakes up in the hospital, for a split second relief floods her as she foolishly assumes that she’s been saved.
A/N: So it’s a little like my finale feels puked all over the page, but I hope you enjoy. Title is from ‘Run’ by Snow Patrol.
Lexie’s last few moments on earth are warm. It feels like she’s been swaddled in all of the love she’s been lucky enough to experience in her short life and being carried out to sea. The waves crash against the shore, and she knows that this feeling can’t last
There are no flashes of memories. No film reel of her accomplishments. Just warmth and love while fading into whatever comes next.
Despite everything, she still feels terrified.
When she wakes up in the hospital, for a split second relief floods her as she foolishly assumes that she’s been saved.
That is, until she sees George O’Malley standing over her.
-
Lexie knows that taking giant, gulping breaths is a first class ticket to hyperventilating, but that doesn’t stop her. She presses her hands to her abdomen, because she swears she can feel the pressure of the plane wreckage pressing down on her.
There’s nothing there, but she still can feel the blood pooling under her palms.
“Oh, god,” she chokes out. “George, do something.”
He shakes his head. “I, Lexie, I’m sorry...there’s nothing, I can’t...”
“George!” she shouts. “You have to help me. You were a trauma surgeon for crying out loud. You have to help me. Mark said he loves me. Kids, George. He wants kids with me.”
That’s when she notices George’s attire. He’s not in scrubs. In fact, he looks like he’s wearing one of the casual outfits he used to lounge around the apartment in.
“Lex,” he says calmly. “I need you to stop. You gotta stop this. You know what happened out there.”
“I was surrounded by surgeons,” she says, her words coming out as a dry sob. The blood is still spreading, hot and sticky against her palms. “I didn’t die. I couldn’t have died.”
“So was I,” George replies. He looks sad, but still a bit angry over it all under the surface.
Lexie sits up.
The blood is gone.
-
They’re walking around the empty hospital, because Lexie is convinced that the key to her escape is hidden in one of the familiar hallways. She doesn’t tell George this, because she knows that he’s trying to help.
“I still don’t understand why I conjured up you. Why not Mark? Or Mere? Hell, even Jackson.”
“Maybe the last few firing neurons in your brain thought I might be more comforting.” George shrugs. “I mean, come on, Lex. Saying goodbye to the love of your life again? That is really not comforting. It, it’s actually the opposite of comforting.”
But Lexie isn’t listening. She’s stopped at where April’s office would normally be, but the room is empty. “I think you would have liked her...” she says vaguely.
“Sure.”
“Yeah?” she asks.
George squeezes her shoulder gently. “Whatever you want to think. I mean, I’m just in your head, after all.”
“Are you?”
He doesn’t reply, and quickly turns the next corner, hands now shoved deep into his pockets and shoulders up around his ears as he ducks his head. Lexie jogs to catch up.
-
“Who did you see? You know, before you...” Lexie makes a vague choking motion, complete with disgusting hacking sounds, because somehow the mockery is less scary than the word.
“Izzie, but only for a second.” George’s smile is soft and calm. It pisses her off. “We were, um, passing ships. Obviously."
“Obviously,” she echoes.
And then she shoves him. Hard.
“What was that for?” he squawks.
Lexie wants to scream. It would be rewarding, probably. The hospital is empty, besides the two of them. Her shouts would bounce off the walls. “Get mad,” she tells him. “You died, and it was unfair. Get mad!”
“You loved me, and I didn’t return the sentiment. You could say that was pretty unfair too,” he points out.
“Cheap shot.”
“Well,” he shrugs again. “Hey, it’s all I got.”
She stops and sinks down against the wall until she’s sitting on the floor, craning her head to look up at him. “You should be mad. It wasn’t fair.”
George sits besides her. “Lex. You know life isn’t fair. Why the hell do you think death would be?”
“Because something had to be. He told me he loved me. He finally told me. And then--- wait, I thought we were talking about you.” It’s easier to focus on George, with his kind eyes and comforting presence.
“We could, if you want.” He looks down at his hands, wiggling his fingers idly. “What do you want to know?”
“You said you didn’t love me,” she reminds him. It’s ancient history now, but what better place to rehash it?
“Well, no, you know, not...not the way you needed to be loved.” He looks sad about this, not the perpetual cloud of sadness that was very George, that had surrounded him, but one of his genuine moments of actual melancholy. “I... was very fond. I was. Not enough to take the leap, though.” George leans back against the wall and tilts his head up. “For the first time in my life, I knew who I was, what being, um, George O’Malley was. And it wasn’t attached to someone else! Not Meredith, not Callie, not Izzie. I was focused on my career, I was learning from my mistakes. I wasn’t about to get sidetracked by someone again. It was one of those... wrong place, wrong time sort of things?”
“Sort of like you and the bus?” Lexie giggles, more than she should, with too much hysteria. “Too soon?”
“Probably.” But before she knows it, George is laughing right along with her, they’re slumped against each other and the cool hospital wall, laughing like George was still alive. Like she - no. No.
Lexie exhales and tries not to focus on the eerie silence of the hospital. “If I was going to die...” She’s not admitting it, not yet. “There were chances. Hell, that shooting at the hospital would have been a good one. Maybe someone else could have made it.”
“So, uh...what are you accomplishing, questioning the timing?”
“Nothing... it’s just...” Lexie doesn’t cry, but she does smash her fist into the tile floor. It doesn’t shock her when it doesn’t hurt. “He loves me. He told me.” She examines her fist, and finds it to be unblemished. “Will he be okay?”
“I think so. I mean, it’s Sloan, you know? And he has Callie and Arizona. They know what it’s like to lose a person they love.”
“Jackson?”
“April.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
It brings her comfort, but just barely. “What about Meredith?”
“Is Meredith. She is the kind of person that has already accepted that every good thing in her life has an expiration date,” George tells her.
“That’s kind of shitty to hear.”
“Yeah, well...” he shrugs. “It is what it is. You can’t change the things that make people into who they are.”
It only takes those few words to bring everything into sharp focus. “And I can’t change that I died. I can only accept it.”
George doesn’t reply.
It’s answer enough, for Lexie.
She thinks about laying her head in his lap, a mockery of her position back at the wreckage site, but it feels an awful lot like giving up.
“George?”
“Yeah, Lex?”
She rolls her head to face him. “Do you think we could dance?”
With a sad smile, George nods and pushes off the ground to his feet, offering Lexie his hand. After helping her up, George wraps his arms around her waist. It’s warm, just like it had been in her last fading moments.
When she puts her arms around his shoulders, the hospital lights start to shut off one by one.
This time when the darkness comes, she isn’t scared.
Beta a-glass-parade
Author: gameboycolor
Characters/Pairings: George O’Malley, Lexie Grey. Mentions of various pairings up until Season 8.
Warnings: Character Death, MAJOR ANGST
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Supernatural elements
Length: ~1300
Summary: When she wakes up in the hospital, for a split second relief floods her as she foolishly assumes that she’s been saved.
A/N: So it’s a little like my finale feels puked all over the page, but I hope you enjoy. Title is from ‘Run’ by Snow Patrol.
Lexie’s last few moments on earth are warm. It feels like she’s been swaddled in all of the love she’s been lucky enough to experience in her short life and being carried out to sea. The waves crash against the shore, and she knows that this feeling can’t last
There are no flashes of memories. No film reel of her accomplishments. Just warmth and love while fading into whatever comes next.
Despite everything, she still feels terrified.
When she wakes up in the hospital, for a split second relief floods her as she foolishly assumes that she’s been saved.
That is, until she sees George O’Malley standing over her.
-
Lexie knows that taking giant, gulping breaths is a first class ticket to hyperventilating, but that doesn’t stop her. She presses her hands to her abdomen, because she swears she can feel the pressure of the plane wreckage pressing down on her.
There’s nothing there, but she still can feel the blood pooling under her palms.
“Oh, god,” she chokes out. “George, do something.”
He shakes his head. “I, Lexie, I’m sorry...there’s nothing, I can’t...”
“George!” she shouts. “You have to help me. You were a trauma surgeon for crying out loud. You have to help me. Mark said he loves me. Kids, George. He wants kids with me.”
That’s when she notices George’s attire. He’s not in scrubs. In fact, he looks like he’s wearing one of the casual outfits he used to lounge around the apartment in.
“Lex,” he says calmly. “I need you to stop. You gotta stop this. You know what happened out there.”
“I was surrounded by surgeons,” she says, her words coming out as a dry sob. The blood is still spreading, hot and sticky against her palms. “I didn’t die. I couldn’t have died.”
“So was I,” George replies. He looks sad, but still a bit angry over it all under the surface.
Lexie sits up.
The blood is gone.
-
They’re walking around the empty hospital, because Lexie is convinced that the key to her escape is hidden in one of the familiar hallways. She doesn’t tell George this, because she knows that he’s trying to help.
“I still don’t understand why I conjured up you. Why not Mark? Or Mere? Hell, even Jackson.”
“Maybe the last few firing neurons in your brain thought I might be more comforting.” George shrugs. “I mean, come on, Lex. Saying goodbye to the love of your life again? That is really not comforting. It, it’s actually the opposite of comforting.”
But Lexie isn’t listening. She’s stopped at where April’s office would normally be, but the room is empty. “I think you would have liked her...” she says vaguely.
“Sure.”
“Yeah?” she asks.
George squeezes her shoulder gently. “Whatever you want to think. I mean, I’m just in your head, after all.”
“Are you?”
He doesn’t reply, and quickly turns the next corner, hands now shoved deep into his pockets and shoulders up around his ears as he ducks his head. Lexie jogs to catch up.
-
“Who did you see? You know, before you...” Lexie makes a vague choking motion, complete with disgusting hacking sounds, because somehow the mockery is less scary than the word.
“Izzie, but only for a second.” George’s smile is soft and calm. It pisses her off. “We were, um, passing ships. Obviously."
“Obviously,” she echoes.
And then she shoves him. Hard.
“What was that for?” he squawks.
Lexie wants to scream. It would be rewarding, probably. The hospital is empty, besides the two of them. Her shouts would bounce off the walls. “Get mad,” she tells him. “You died, and it was unfair. Get mad!”
“You loved me, and I didn’t return the sentiment. You could say that was pretty unfair too,” he points out.
“Cheap shot.”
“Well,” he shrugs again. “Hey, it’s all I got.”
She stops and sinks down against the wall until she’s sitting on the floor, craning her head to look up at him. “You should be mad. It wasn’t fair.”
George sits besides her. “Lex. You know life isn’t fair. Why the hell do you think death would be?”
“Because something had to be. He told me he loved me. He finally told me. And then--- wait, I thought we were talking about you.” It’s easier to focus on George, with his kind eyes and comforting presence.
“We could, if you want.” He looks down at his hands, wiggling his fingers idly. “What do you want to know?”
“You said you didn’t love me,” she reminds him. It’s ancient history now, but what better place to rehash it?
“Well, no, you know, not...not the way you needed to be loved.” He looks sad about this, not the perpetual cloud of sadness that was very George, that had surrounded him, but one of his genuine moments of actual melancholy. “I... was very fond. I was. Not enough to take the leap, though.” George leans back against the wall and tilts his head up. “For the first time in my life, I knew who I was, what being, um, George O’Malley was. And it wasn’t attached to someone else! Not Meredith, not Callie, not Izzie. I was focused on my career, I was learning from my mistakes. I wasn’t about to get sidetracked by someone again. It was one of those... wrong place, wrong time sort of things?”
“Sort of like you and the bus?” Lexie giggles, more than she should, with too much hysteria. “Too soon?”
“Probably.” But before she knows it, George is laughing right along with her, they’re slumped against each other and the cool hospital wall, laughing like George was still alive. Like she - no. No.
Lexie exhales and tries not to focus on the eerie silence of the hospital. “If I was going to die...” She’s not admitting it, not yet. “There were chances. Hell, that shooting at the hospital would have been a good one. Maybe someone else could have made it.”
“So, uh...what are you accomplishing, questioning the timing?”
“Nothing... it’s just...” Lexie doesn’t cry, but she does smash her fist into the tile floor. It doesn’t shock her when it doesn’t hurt. “He loves me. He told me.” She examines her fist, and finds it to be unblemished. “Will he be okay?”
“I think so. I mean, it’s Sloan, you know? And he has Callie and Arizona. They know what it’s like to lose a person they love.”
“Jackson?”
“April.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
It brings her comfort, but just barely. “What about Meredith?”
“Is Meredith. She is the kind of person that has already accepted that every good thing in her life has an expiration date,” George tells her.
“That’s kind of shitty to hear.”
“Yeah, well...” he shrugs. “It is what it is. You can’t change the things that make people into who they are.”
It only takes those few words to bring everything into sharp focus. “And I can’t change that I died. I can only accept it.”
George doesn’t reply.
It’s answer enough, for Lexie.
She thinks about laying her head in his lap, a mockery of her position back at the wreckage site, but it feels an awful lot like giving up.
“George?”
“Yeah, Lex?”
She rolls her head to face him. “Do you think we could dance?”
With a sad smile, George nods and pushes off the ground to his feet, offering Lexie his hand. After helping her up, George wraps his arms around her waist. It’s warm, just like it had been in her last fading moments.
When she puts her arms around his shoulders, the hospital lights start to shut off one by one.
This time when the darkness comes, she isn’t scared.