Chapter Text
Then truth starts peeking through
They're a lot like me and you
They can fake a smile too
The anonymous ones
Never let you see the hate they carry
(They carry, they carry, they carry)
All those anonymous ones
Never name the quiet pain they bury
(They bury, they bear, they bear)
I don't wanna be anonymous
I ain't gotta be anonymous
I don't wanna be anonymous anymore
The parts we can't tell, we carry them well
But that doesn't mean they're not heavy-The Anonymous Ones, SZA
Jackson collects his books and carefully tucks them into his backpack. The students around him haphazardly shove them in. Jackson was once like them. If the rentals broke, he’d just buy it at the end of the semester. Back when all he had to do was swipe his black AMEX, or more accurately, his grandfather’s. When he had sushi lunches and bought the keg for parties.
Before the student loans, crappy apartment and the oh so fun job. Now that he’s paying for everything he buys, he’s got to be careful.
“Avery!” Jackson’s head snaps up at the sound of his professor’s voice. “Come here, please.”
“Yes, Dr. Sloan.”
Jackson hikes the backpack over his shoulder and walks down the lecture steps. Mark Sloan is grinning. His sparkly teeth are nearly enough to blind a guy. Mark makes crude jokes, runs on far too much coffee and makes baseball analogies. He’s also one of the best plastic surgeons from the east coast. For some reason, he gave all that up to live in Washington. All to work as chief of plastics at Seattle Grace Hospital and spend 2 days a week as an adjunct professor at UW Medical.
“I hope I didn’t go too fast for you guys today,” Mark says.
Jackson shakes his head. “No, sir. You were clear enough.”
“I told you to drop the “sir” stuff. I’m not that old.”
Jackson nods, anxiety twisting his stomach. He doesn’t want to offend him. “Sorry, sir, I mean…uh…Dr. Sloan.”
Mark chuckles, shaking his head. “I should know better. My wife is a Forbes-Montgomery. Some things just stick with ya, huh?”
Jackson smiles nervously. “Yeah. Um. Not to be rude, but I have another class in 20 minutes…”
“Oh, right! I was wondering if you’d be interested in observing a surgery tomorrow.”
Jackson tilts his head. “Huh?”
“Well, I’m performing a cranial vault reconstruction. It’s one of the things we’ve been studying. I thought you’d like to see it up close.”
An enthusiastic “yes” is at the tip of Jackson’s tongue and for some reason, he hesitates.
“Just me?”
“Might be a little hard to shove the whole class into the OR.”
“I already had my rotation in plastics.”
“I cleared it with the chief. He’s fine with it, so long as you don’t touch anyone. The baby’s parents also signed off on it.”
Jackson fiddles with his backpack strap. “But why me? I don’t mean any disrespect,” he quickly adds on. “I guess I’m just confused.”
“Because you did the best on the exam. And you’re one of the few people in this class that actually seems excited about plastics.” Mark pauses. “But if you’re not ready, that’s okay too. This isn’t something you’re being graded on. I just thought it’d be a good opportunity for you.”
Jackson nods. A small smile forms on his face.
“What time is it?”
“8 AM, so you’ll have to get there about 6:45 to do prep with me. Then it’s about 4-6 hours, depending. A bit long I k,now…”
“I can handle it,” Jackson quickly interjects. His cheek tint red. “I mean, sorry to interrupt. I just, yeah, I’d like to observe. It’s Friday so no classes.”
Mark grins. “Perfect! Just go up to the 4th floor when you arrive. Ask for me.”
He holds out his fist. Jackson awkwardly bumps it.
“I should uh, go,” he says.
“Right, of course. Have a good rest of your day.”
“You too.”
Jackson’s got an extra spring in his step as he exits the lecture hall. He’s going to sit in on a real surgery! Not just sit in, but get to be in the actual OR. It’s not unheard of for med students to get the offer outside scheduled rotations, but it’s also very rare. Jackson always thought if he did get offered, it’d be his last name. But Mark has always made it clear he doesn’t care about legacy.
He quickly nibbles on his turkey sandwich from home and polishes off his Cheetos. Once he gets his share of the tips tonight, he must go grocery shopping. He just barely managed to make this stretch. Between rent and his last undergrad loan payment, things have been tight. Halloween is coming up, which will mean more parties. Hopefully, he can get in on a few of those.
Jackson double-checks the locks on his car before heading for the small building. He’s careful of the cracked step on the stairs, especially with all the pretty leaves that cover them. The last thing he needs is another cut on his head. There’s no way Dan is sending him to the parties like that. He’d potentially refuse to put him on a few nights. Jackson can’t afford that right now.
He’s only halfway in the hallway that reeks of a mix of Hungarian food and cigarette smoke when he sees a flurry going on outside his apartment. There’s piles of trash bags as the guys storm past him. Jackson frowns as he he walks closer. Jake, the guy he subleases from, holds a Newport to his lips and takes a long drag.
“What’s going on?” Jackson asks, watching as the two other guys who crash in the living room with him argue over some clothes.
“Landlord figured out I had 10 of you in here.” Jake scoffs and takes another drag. “Told me you all get out or I have to.”
Jackson frowns. “Where are we supposed to go?”
“Not my problem. I’d get in there if I were you before they take your stuff.”
“I just paid you rent,” Jackson points out, his head spinning a bit as the reality settles over him. “You can’t just kick me out.”
“What are you gonna do? Sue me?” Jake snorts. “Look, I don’t care where you go. You just gotta get out.”
Jackson blinks the burning tears out of his eyes. There isn’t a lease. All he had was a stupid corner with a leaky air mattress and an old blanket. Even if he had the money for a lawyer, no way is he gonna win.
“Can I get my rent back?”
“Do I look like a rerun desk?” Jake drops the cigarette and stomps it out onto the cracked linoleum. He snaps his fingers and points to the open door. “Get your stuff and go.”
Jackson balls up his fists as he storms into the apartment. The two guys are still arguing. Jackson just heads for his corner. The air mattress is gone but the looter was kind enough to leave his blanket behind. Jackson doesn’t keep much here anyway. It’s not as if these guys were the most honest when they had a place to sleep. There are two types of people who illegally sublease: the desperate and the scammers.
Outside the blanket, all Jackson can recover is a worn, tattered hoodie. He shoves it into his backpack. Jackson sees a pair of jeans being shoved into another guy’s bag but he doesn’t have the energy to fight tonight.
As suspected, the bathroom is also cleaned out. Jackson will have to get a new toothbrush. See if he can get his lotions for cheap. He thought they’d be safe considering he’s the only black guy in the apartment, but he underestimated the motives of the desperate.
Jackson doesn’t give the apartment a second look as he walks out. This wasn’t going to be his forever home anyway. The university doesn’t have a lot of housing for med students and their apartments weren’t including in the financial aid package. If he could avoid one less thing to put on his loans, he was going to do it. At least there’s an on call room for interns once he passes his exams. Not that he’s positive you’re supposed to live there, but who’s going to know?
He has 7 months until he can even begin to think of that. At one point, he’ll get to the library and start looking on Craigslist. He’ll figure it out, just as he has the past 5 years.
It’s not like he didn’t live in his car when he got to Seattle. He’ll survive for a few weeks.
Addison falls into a graceful heap on the couch. Her stocking covered feet prop up onto Mark’s lap. Without hesitation, he begins rubbing them.
“Five births, three of them C-Sections,” she announces.
“Lucky you with all those surgeries,” Mark teases.
She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging on her lips. “One of the babies needs surgery tomorrow but outside that, I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
“You deserve it. You’ve been working too hard, Red.” Mark digs his thumb into the sole of her foot. She lets out a content sigh. “That good?”
“Perfect.” She reaches over and grabs her glass of wine, taking a small sip. “Ya know, I heard a rumor today.”
“Oh?”
“Grey and Derek are fostering.”
Mark nods in his confirmation as he takes special care of that area of her foot. “Yeah. One of the students from the university. He’s not in my class but I’ve heard of him. Derek says he’s a piece of work.”
“If anyone can handle it, it’s them.”
Mark nods. He doesn’t miss the wistful look in Addison’s eyes. He drops her foot and bites his lip.
“It’ll happen,” he whispers.
Addison shakes her head. “It’s a good thing the waitlists are so long,” she says with a small shrug. “It’s how it should be. Littles deserve homes more than we deserve to have one.”
“We could always go to another open house.”
“Those feel so…awkward. Littles aren’t a pair of shoes.”
Mark holds back a sigh of relief. Hunt talked them into going to one. It’s how he found April after all. There were a lot of adorable Littles but none he or Addison really “clicked” with. He always said he’d go to another if Addison wanted to, only to be relieved when she said “no”. It truly did feel like they were at the pound. Those people aren’t animals.
They’re still on the waiting list. Home study complete and background check submitted. It’s all a waiting game at this point.
“Did you ask that kid to scrub in on your surgery tomorrow?” Addison asks, changing the subject.
Mark resumes the massage. “Jackson, yeah. He agreed. I’m surprised Webber signed off on it, honestly. We’re not affiliated with the school.”
“At the end of the day, we’re still a teaching hospital. If you vouch for him, it’s fine.”
“True. Besides, I know Jackson has the stomach for it.”
Addison swirls her wine glass. “Being an Avery doesn’t mean he’ll automatically be good.”
“I never assumed as much. You’re a Montgomery and you suck at sailing.”
Addison rolls her eyes as Mark smirks.
“I don’t care about his legacy. I just think he’s a good kid who’s willing to learn.”
“You’re not usually this invested in your students.”
Mark shrugs. Truth is, he isn’t sure why he feels so drawn to Jackson. It takes a lot for him to request for someone to be on his service. But he’s seen Jackson’s passion. He asks questions, and almost always has his hand up (even though Mark has told him that’s not necessary). Even with the tests he bombs, he doesn’t give up.
Something told him to ask Jackson to scrub in and he did. Derek called it impulsive but he says that about almost everything Mark does. He’ll let it go.
“I didn’t think about it until I asked, but it’s gonna be a long day,” Mark says after a minute. “Could take up to 6 hours. That’s not factor prep and post-op.”
“It’ll get him prepped. Even if he doesn’t go the plastics route, a lot of surgery is being on your feet most of the day. Besides, if he didn’t think he could handle it, he’d tell you.”
“True.”
Addison sets her glass down. “Alright. I’m gonna change.” She leans over and kisses him. “Thanks for the massage,” she whispers into his lips.
“Anytime.” Mark traces her nose. “Maybe I missed my calling. Should’ve gone into spa therapy.”
“I think you’d be too tempted to give out those happy endings.”
“Nah.” He winks. “I’d save those for you.”
Addison holds her heart in mock awe. “You say the sweetest things to me.”
“We have a request for the champagne room. A bachelorette party.” Dan says when Jackson asks for more work. “Interested?”
“Yes,” Jackson says without hesitation.
“I thought you hated working it?”
Jackson shrugs. “Could use the cash.”
“Right, Dr. Love,” Dan quips with a smirk.
Jackson rolls his eyes. When he started, he kept to himself and tried to stay out of everyone’s way. Then one of the senior guys told him he was gaining a reputation as a stuck-up prick. So, he joined them for beers and poker. They still don’t associate Avery with Harper Avery but they know about med school. Colin introduced him as “Dr. Love”. Much to Jackson’s chagrin, it’s stuck.
“Hey, it’s cool if I use the showers quick? My roommate was hogging ours,” he fibs.
“So long as you’re ready by opening. You’re on the stage before the champagne room. Plus, you’re doing floor work.”
“Yes, sir.”
“This isn’t a courtroom,” Dan groans. “Would you quit it with the sir?”
“I’ve been getting a lot of that lately,” Jackson mumbles.
The club’s showers aren’t the best but at least the pressure is better than his old apartment. He can at least use the university gym’s on his nights off. The cafeteria has a microwave so at least ramen’s still on the table. It’ll be his only hot meal.
Jackson takes as long as he can without using up all the hot water before getting dressed. He fiddles with the red belt around his gaudy white lab coat. The first beats of the Foreigner song blare through the back curtains. Jackson twists the belt harder as he hears the roar of the crowd. He takes a deep breath and forces a smile on his face as the DJ’s booming voice takes over.
“Is anyone sick? Hurt? Because we’ve got a doctor in the house! Everyone give it up for Dr. Love!”
Jackson bursts through as the lyrics blare out. His lab coat is barely off before he sees the first bill go flying.
Jackson curls up in the backseat of his car. He’s out of that tight thong and in briefs that can breathe. His blanket is wrapped tightly around him as he cuddles Hank to his chest. The puppy has stayed with him since he was 2 years old. One of the last things he has left of his mom.
Sometimes he wonders what part she’d be more disappointed by. The fact that her son is a stripper or the reason why he ended up here.
His thumb draws closer to his mouth as sleep tugs on his eyes. As much as Jackson tries to fight it, it enters. He prays he doesn’t need to start investing in pull-ups again. Jackson went to the bathroom at the club then the nasty one at the bodega when he bought the snacks that constituted as a 2 AM dinner. He has to be up in 4 hours anyway. Jackson will make it that long.
A police siren jolts him awake before he can drift off all together. Jackson digs through his backpack and pulls out his headphones. He puts them in his phone and ques up one of the episodes of Scooby Doo that he downloaded before the internet on it got shut off.
At least in his car, he can regress a little. Probably not enough as recommended but it’ll get him through the next few days.
Soon, he’s asleep. Jackson dreams The Mystery Gang are his caregivers.
“Avery!” Mark strolls around the corner of the nurse’s station with that same smile on his face.
Jackson rubs his palms against his slacks, hoping they’re not too wrinkled. There was no way he could’ve brought them to the cleaners. “Hey, Dr. Sloan.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
Mark wraps an arm around Jackson. The younger man freezes. He can’t remember the last time he had this time of physical touch. Not a customer trying to push the boundary or trying to fight off whoever his old roommates would bring back to the apartment. This is one of care and unfamiliarity. A part of him wants to pull away. The other wants to melt into the embrace.
“Did you find the hospital okay?”
“Yes, si…Dr. Sloan.”
Mark chuckles. “Well, you’re early, which I expected. I’d offer you a coffee but I read your file, so I think that’s out of the question.” Jackson’s cheeks tint pink. “Relax, you’re hardly the only Little on the roster. It doesn’t change your ability to stand in on this surgery.”
Jackson nods as he’s let out of Mark’s grip. A part of his body aches but he quickly shakes it off. “I really appreciate you letting me scrub in today. I know I can’t do anything. But just to be able to observe. It means a lot.”
“Of course. You’ll be an intern soon enough. You should get more than one rotation in plastics. This should tell you if you want to go through with everything. Now, come on. There are some people I want you to meet.”
Mark leads Jackson down the hall. Standing in a corridor speaking softly together is a tall doctor with dark hair and a shorter blonde one that looks vaguely familiar.
“Jackson, this is Dr. Derek Shepherd, our chief of neurology,” he explains.
Derek grins. “It’s nice to meet you, Jackson. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Jackson nods as they shake hands. “You too, sir. I’ve read a few of your medical journals.”
“You interested in neuro?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes.
The blonde nudges him. “Derek.” She shakes her head. “The boy is barely out of med school yet.”
“I knew what I wanted my specialty to be from the time I was premed.”
“Well not all of us are overachievers like you.” She turns to Jackson, a small smile on her face. “I’m Meredith Grey.”
That’s why she looks so familiar. Jackson’s grown up hearing all about Ellis Grey, the once renowned surgeon. She retired a few years ago and disappeared into the shadows. She won 2 Harper Averys. Catherine once spoke about how much she related to her as a single mom, juggling a career and a child. This must be Ellis’.
He knows how much he hates when people bring up his grandfather, so he doesn’t mention her.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Grey,” he says instead.
“Oh, I’m still a resident. And for the record, I have no clue what I want to specialize in either.” Her smile turns into a smirk. “So don’t let Dr. Shepherd or Dr. Sloan pressure you into making a choice today.”
Jackson feels the tips of his lips turning upwards. “Alright.”
“Well, hopefully, we’ll see you around here this summer,” Derek chimes in. “Intern classes start July 1st.”
“He hasn’t even gotten accepted to the program yet,” Meredith says.
“Are you applying here, Jackson?”
He nods. “Yes, sir. Applications don’t drop for another couple of months. But I’ve been looking into a few hospitals in the area. Mercy West too.”
Mark makes a face. “You don’t want to work there, trust me.’
“Aren’t you a little biased in that regard?”
Mark shrugs. “Maybe. Now, let’s get your stuff settled. You can leave it in my office.”
“It was nice meeting the two of you,” Jackson says, shaking hands with Meredith and Derek.
“You as well,” the neuro surgeon says. “I hope to see you back here this summer.”
“We’ll see.”
“Mark, go easy on him,” Meredith warns. “He’s just a kid.”
Jackson’s cheeks burn once again as Mark rolls his eyes and promises to be on his best behavior. He leads his mentee off. Jackson double-checks that they’re out of earshot before speaking.
“That’s Ellis Grey’s daughter, right?”
“Yes,” Mark confirms as he hits the button to call for the elevator. “Good thing you didn’t bring it up in front of her.”
“I happen to know a thing or two about all that. I can’t tell you how many people have asked me about my grandfather. Like that’s the only important thing about me.”
“Well, it’s not. You’re a lot more than your legacy, Avery.” The two step onto the elevator once the doors open. “Just like Meredith doesn’t have anything to prove, neither do you.”
Jackson bites on his lip. He tries to block out his grandfather’s voice from the last time they spoke.
“You’re an Avery! You have a responsibility, a legacy to protect!”
There was a point when Jackson debated changing his last name to Fox, but that comes with just as much legacy. Even if Catherine was the first doctor in her family, far too many have heard all about the famous Dr. Catherine Fox. Why taint his mom’s last name when he was deemed unfit to be an Avery?
“Thanks.” It’s the most he can muster.
“Of course. Are you nervous?”
“A little,” Jackson admits. “I mean, I’ve stood in on a few surgeries during my rotations but every time I step into the OR, I’m afraid I’ll pass out.”
“Want to know a secret? I passed out a couple of times during my clerkships.” Jackson’s face grows a surprised look. “Yup. The first was a C-Section. I had no clue what was going on. Sort of how I knew OB wasn’t for me.” Jackson laughs alongside Mark. “The other was an ortho procedure. The bone was sticking out of the guy. That was the first surgery I ever scrubbed in on. Thought for sure I’d flunk the program, but somehow I managed to pass.”
“And you did all that at Columbia?”
“Yup.” Mark leads him off the elevator and towards his office. “Derek went there too, and so did my wife. You may get to meet her today. She’s the head of OB/GYN and neonatal surgery.”
Jackson’s eyebrows about shoot off his head. “Both?”
“Yup. She has a double specialty.”
“Wow. You are too, right? Plastics and ENT?”
“They both go hand in hand.”
“So, you’re like a power couple or whatever?”
Mark laughs. “Power couple?”
Jackson shrugs. “Both heads of departments, her two at that. Surprised you’re not running the hospital.”
“That’ll likely be Meredith one day.” He pushes the door to his office open. “I still get a fun office.”
Mark said he was operating on a baby, but Jackson hadn’t been prepared for how small he’d be. Elliot is only 10 months old, with an adjusted age of 7 months. He’s had a rough road, in and out of surgeries since birth. Most of them have been done by Dr. Montgomery alongside their chief of ortho, Dr. Torres. Hopefully, this is the end of the road for him.
Jackson hangs back for a good bit of the surgery, but about 3 hours in, Mark calls him over to observe closer. He still tries to stay out of the way as much as possible. During his first rotation at UW Medical Center, the doctor snapped at him for getting too close. That was a simple rhinoplasty. Jackson left unsure what went on. And still, he continued studying plastics videos.
This is much more complex. Mark is working with an actual skull. Each move is careful and precise. Yet, somehow he narrates each step of the process and asks Jackson if he understands each time. He even prompts him to ask some questions. At first, Jackson doesn’t want to distract him but as they get further in there, he breaks. Much to his surprise, Mark can juggle the surgery and go further into detail.
Jackson walks out of the 5-hour surgery floating on a cloud. Despite watching a skull dissected for the better part of his morning, he’s grinning from ear to ear. It was a success and Elliot’s head should be reshaped nicely. Jackson only got 4 hours of sleep last night, paired with the dollar store energy drink he picked up before he drove over here. He definitely won’t need a nap now with the high he’s on.
“Euphoric, huh?” Mark asks as they wash their hands after.
Jackson nods, unable to shake his smile. “Is it always like this? I mean, I was just standing there watching and it was…amazing!”
“Just wait until you have a scalpel in your hands,” Mark grins.
“So, it never gets old?”
“I’ve been at it 13 years, including my residency. It never changes.”
“Wow,” Jackson breathes.
Mark pats him on the back. “So, still think you want to be a surgeon?”
“Definitely. God, I can’t thank you enough, Dr. Sloan. Really, this morning was awesome.”
“You’re a great student, Jack.” Mark’s smile softens. Jackson ducks his head, his cheeks burning for about the fifth time that day. “You deserved this. Now, would you like to come with me to tell the Grangers the good news?”
“Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
Mrs. Granger hugs Jackson. He tries to say he didn’t do anything, but she still squeezes him tightly before moving onto Mark. When Jackson looks over at his professor, he just shrugs and mutters something about getting used to it. Jackson isn’t a huge fan of hugs, but he knows it’d be rude to deny a patient’s parent that. Luckily, Mr. Granger just shakes his hand and thanks him for his help. Jackson wants to repeat that he didn’t do anything but stand there but Mr. Granger has tears in his eyes. He’s just as bad with emotion as he is with physical affection. Jackson just nods and says “of course”.
Mark goes through post-op procedures and makes sure a nurse will check on Elliot. Once Jackson’s changed and grabbed his backpack, Mark leads him down to the cafeteria. The younger man’s stomach flips. He did a quick run at Wal-Mart last night, then replenished at the dollar store this morning. Now that he’s living in his car, he needs to budget more for gas. Cafeteria food is out of the budget.
“I really should get going,” Jackson says. “I have a lot of studying to do. Got a hardass professor and all that.”
Mark chuckles, shaking his head. “Surely, you can take a break to get some fuel. Plus, you’ve got all weekend.”
“I have work tomorrow night, so I won’t have time.”
“You’ve got a job?”
Crap.
“Uh, yeah. I’m a busser at this bar downtown.” Not entirely a lie, he does serve drinks at the club.
“Had no clue. You balance med school, rotations and a job?”
Jackson shrugs. “I’m hardly the only one.”
“No, just surprised is all. And you’re dropping regularly?” Jackson’s eyes widen a bit. Mark holds up his hands. “Sorry, that’s personal. I’ve just never seen this from a Little.”
“I’m fine.” Jackson’s voice squeaks as he tries to hide a whine. “Really, Dr. Sloan. I appreciate all this. But I should get going.”
“Well, at least let me get you a homecooked meal tonight. I’m sure you’re living off fast food and that horrible cafeteria food.”
“Why would you want to cook me dinner? I mean, you’re the one that did me a favor.”
“Still, I know this was a long morning. You can go get some studying done. Then come by my apartment. I promise I’ll cook. My wife’s not the best at it.”
Jackson racks his brain for an excuse. He didn’t plan on going to the club tonight because he does want to study. But realistically, a few hours for dinner won’t kill him. Especially if he can head to the library now. He can’t remember the last time he had a warm, home-cooked meal. His dinner plans tonight were heating some ramen in the cafeteria. Surely whatever Dr. Sloan is making will taste far better.
But why is he even doing this? Is he onto Jackson? The last thing he needs is social services to get involved and find out he’s living in his car. They could change his independence status. He is not about to go into some group home. Being homeless isn’t ideal, but it’s better than having his every move watched.
Jackson looks at Mark for a moment. He’s got a genuine smile on his face. Despite all his crude jokes, he’s a nice guy. On the first day of class, he brought cookies and did one of those lame icebreaker games that Jackson hadn’t done since his undergrad days. Maybe he is just trying to be nice.
It’d be rude to turn down a dinner invitation. Catherine would roll over in her grave if she could see him right now. Likely nudged him in the ribs and put on that famous “Fox smile” while she accepted on his behalf.
Jackson’s managed to mask this far, he can keep it up now. Anything that’ll get him a decent meal. At least he’s pretty sure that Mark doesn’t want anything out of it.
He doesn’t, right?
Jackson straightens up a bit. “If you’re sure.”
“Of course. I’m off by 5. Probably won’t have dinner on the table until 7. So, if you want to come at 6:30?”
“Alright.” Jackson smiles a little. “Thanks, Dr. Sloan.”
“Of course. You sure you don’t want any lunch?”
“I’m sure. Um, I need your address.”
“Oh. Right. Here, you got a phone?”
Jackson passes it over. Mark pulls up the notes app. He squints as he types for a minute.
“We’ve got free guest parking on the lower level of the garage, so you’ll be all set.” Mark passes the phone back. “I put my number in, just in case you get lost.”
Jackson nods. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”
“See you later.”
Jackson beelines out of the cafeteria before the smells cause his stomach to give him away.
Jackson knew the neighborhood Mark wrote down was ritzy but he didn’t expect a luxury high rise. Nor that he’d be sent to the floor just directly under the penthouse. Suddenly, he wonders if he made a mistake changing out of his dress clothes and into jeans and a hoodie. It’s not as if he has time to change. It took him long enough to get over here from the university.
Rather than Mark, a tall redhead greets him at the door. Addison Forbes Montgomery. Jackson’s read about her too. Yet another legacy. Her father is one of the most prominent doctors in Connecticut. Her mother isn’t in the medical field but the Forbes are amongst the biggest names in New England.
“Hi,” Addison says. Her voice is warm, soft. Just the slightest hint of WASP in the back of the register but it’s gone just as soon as it arrives. “You must be Jackson, I’m Addison.”
“It nice to meet you, Dr. Montgomery.” Jackson holds out his hand.
She smiles as she shakes it. “You can call me Addison. Come on in. Mark’s just in the kitchen.”
Jackson makes sure to take off his shoes once they make it into the hall. Addison leads him past a wall covered with photos of people Jackson can only assume is their families. The only people he recognizes outside Mark and Addison are Derek and Meredith, along with a couple of Bizzy Forbes and the elder Dr. Montgomery.
The smell of steaks builds up the ache in Jackson’s stomach. He decided to save his dinner ramen for another night. All he’s had so far today is a bag of Fritos.
“Jackson’s here,” Addison announces once they arrive in the kitchen. Mark stands behind their expensive-looking stove set up in the middle of the kitchen underneath an island. He’s dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans. Jackson suddenly feels better about his own outfit.
“You made it,” Mark says with a grin, looking up from the pan. “I hope you like steak.”
Jackson nods. “Oh, um, I love it. But you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” Jackson says. ‘Really.”
“I was going to make it anyway,” he dismisses. “No trouble at all to pick up another on my way home.”
Jackson remembers those days. Some friends invited yet another person to the party. Jackson dashed to the store and bought more food without a second thought.
Must be nice.
Jackson quickly swallows the bitterness. It’s not Mark’s fault that he’s in his current situation. He invited him to dinner and is making steak of all things.
Stop being so ungrateful and just say thank you.
“Um, do you need any help?” Jackson asks.
Mark shakes his head. “You’re our guest. Make yourself at home. This will be ready soon.”
Jackson nods. Addison leads him over to the set table and gestures to his seat. “Would you like anything to drink? I have lemonade.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
Addison crosses to the fridge and takes out the carton. “So, how’d you enjoy the surgery today?”
“It was amazing.” Jackson’s distracted from his anxiety as he thinks back to the high he lived off of during his studying. “It was my first time seeing something so in-depth up close like that.”
“You’ve done rotations, yes?”
“Yes, ma’am. I still have another round to go.”
“Any idea of what you want to specialize in?”
“Not yet,” Jackson admits.
“That’s alright. I couldn’t make up my mind either. Clearly.” She chuckles as she pours the lemonade into a glass. Jackson holds it carefully once she passes it over. “Figured why not do both?”
“That’s a lot of studying and training,” he muses as he takes a sip.
“Wasn’t easy, but definitely worth it. I love what I do.”
She settles at the table and fills him in on the surgery she did told. Jackson listens on with great interest.
“Have you had a rotation in OB or neonatal yet?”
“No. I had one in peds, which I liked. But I don’t know if that was for me. I don’t mind working with kids but I don’t know if I could do it all day.”
“It takes a particular person,” Addison agrees. “And it’s okay to admit that. They’re called specialties for a reason, it’s what we’re good at.”
Mark walks over holding two of the plates. “And some of us are more than just “good”.” He winks.
Addison rolls her eyes. “Give me my steak.”
“So bossy.”
Jackson bites back a smile as he sets out the food. Mark sits once everything is distributed. Jackson refers back to his years of training as he digs into the meal, careful not to eat too fast.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked how you like your steak,” Mark says. “But then there’s a chance you’d say well done and I wasn’t about to ruin a perfectly good hunk of meat.”
Jackson laughs. “No, it’s fine. This is cooked perfectly. Thank you, Dr. Sloan.”
“Of course.”
It takes a moment for him to realize that Mark is watching him cut the steak. His fingers fumble a bit but he quickly recovers.
“You’ve got good technique, kid.”
“It’s a steak, Mark,” Addison says, taking a sip of her wine.
“I can tell technique from a mile away. Now, the question is if you can sew.”
“Mark. The boy’s here to eat. Not prove his skills.”
“It’s okay, Dr. Montgomery,” Jackson is quick to defend. “He’s a surgeon. My professor at that. Suppose he should see my technique.”
Mark grins then pokes out his tongue at Addison. She rolls her eyes. “So mature,” she mutters. After another couple of bites, she turns to Jackson. “Do you live on campus?”
“Oh, no. I’ve got an apartment with some roommates.”
“I don’t blame you. I loathed that Yale required we live in the dorms the first couple of years. Couldn’t even pick your own roommates back then.”
Jackson doesn’t mention that he’d kill to live in dorms again. He’d take back his slob of a roommate freshman year and that lumpy mattress if it meant he didn’t have to sleep in his car. Instead, he focuses on the Yale part.
“You’re a Yale woman?”
Addison nods. “Undergrad. I went to Columbia for med school.” She observes his face. “Don’t tell me…Harvard?”
Jackson arches a brow. “How’d you know?”
“Just that little look you got for a split second.”
It’s Mark’s turn to roll his eyes. “Is there really such a difference? I mean, seriously. They’re both Ivys.”
“You’ve seen those Yale/Harvard games,” Addison reminds him. “You know just how competitive they get.”
“I attended all of them when I was premed,” Jackson says. “We kicked your butt 3 years in a row.”
Addison shakes her head. “We got you back the next few years.”
“Do you still go to the games?”
“Not since we moved out here to Seattle.”
“But she used to drag me back when we were in New York,” Mark cuts in.
“If I go to Yankees and Giants games for you, you can stomach a Harvard game,” Addison quips, waving her salad fork.
Jackson manages to shove more food in as they bicker for a bit. As he sits there, he realizes it’s been a while since he had a sit-down meal with anyone. Sure, his roommates would usually eat across the living room while he downed his noodles, but there was no talking about anyone’s day or asking if they wanted more bread. Family dinners weren’t exactly a thing when he was growing up either, outside holidays. Even those weren’t on the actual day since Catherine either had surgery or foundation business.
Even with Mark and Addison going back and forth, it’s nice. Comfortable. Jackson finds himself smiling and laughing as they trade playful shots. Mark refills his plate a couple of times. Addison refills his lemonade. Jackson has to remind himself a few times why he’s here. Until he realizes, he doesn’t even know.
“This has all been great,” he says when there’s a lull in the conversation. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but why did you invite me?”
“Like I said, you had a busy morning,” Mark says. “Besides, I remember being in med school. I lived off ramen and pop-tarts for weeks.”
“Don’t forget the beer,” Addison chimes in.
Jackson nods. “But I’m not your only student. I mean, of all of them, why me? Do you…want something?” He gnaws on his lip. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard of a professor or attending trying to take advantage of a student.
Mark’s eyebrows knit together and he shares a look with Addison for a moment. Finally, his mouth drops open. “Oh, no, no. Jack, it’s not like that.” Jackson’s anxiety lessens a bit. “I meant what I said. You’re very passionate about what you do. I know you’re trying to make your own legacy. If I can help you with that in any way, I will.”
Another “why” is on the tip of Jackson’s tongue, but he doesn’t let it off. The last thing he needs is to offend him and then potentially end up with a worse grade. He was hoping to ask Mark for a recommendation when applications for intern programs came around. Not that he thinks his professor would even do any of that. He seems nice, like he genuinely wants to help. Jackson just can’t figure out the “why”.
The subject is quickly changed to Jackson’s classes. As the conversation continues, he grows a bit more confident and isn’t stuttering nearly as much. They won’t let him help clear the table and instead send him into the living room where they enjoy some cheesecake. Mark and Addison have coffee. Jackson’s given hot chocolate.
“I should get going,” he says once the mug is drained. The last thing he wants is to head back into the cold, but he also doesn’t want to overstay his welcome. “I still have some studying to do.”
“Of course, we don’t want to keep you,” Addison says.
Mark nods. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“You don’t have to,” Jackson says.
“I don’t mind.”
Jackson sighs, rising to his feet. He shakes hands with Addison.
“Thank you for having me over.”
“Of course. You’re welcome back any time. And if you need any help with your OB or neonatal rotations, just let me know. Mark can give you my number.”
“Oh, uh, thanks.”
Mark takes the elevator with him down to the parking garage. Jackson grows a bit self-concious as they walk past the sea of Jaguars, Bentleys and Audis before they reach his beat up Sedan. Mark doesn’t give it a second glance.
“Thanks for coming,” he says.
“Me? Thank you for having me. That steak was really good. I don’t know why I didn’t expect you’d be a good cook.”
Mark laughs. “I’m a man of many talents.” He squeezes Jackson’s shoulder. “I meant it. You livened up an otherwise boring Friday night.”
“Well, it was my pleasure.”
“Like Addison said, you’re welcome back anytime. Not that you’d want to hang out with two fossils like us, but ya know. Anytime you want a real, home-cooked meal.”
Jackson doesn’t plan on asking again. As delicious as it was, there’s no way he’s going to burden them.
“I appreciate it. Thanks, Dr. Sloan.” He shakes hands with Mark. “For the dinner. And the surgery.”
“Of course. You handled it great. Just make sure you get some sleep.”
Jackson cracks a smile. “I’m in med school, Dr. Sloan. I don’t know what sleep is.”
“You better learn it,” he gently chastises. “It’s the only way you’re going to survive. That and regularly regressing.”
“I’ve got both under control,” Jackson says quickly, hopefully not too quickly.
Mark nods. Jackson isn’t sure if he sees a flicker of doubt in his eye. “Of course. Drive safe, Avery.”
“Thanks. Have a good night.”
Jackson pulls out of the parking garage. He leaves behind the high rise, steak dinners and beautiful legacies.
A text from Dan reminding him of a party the next evening pulls him back to his own reality.