6.01

Helena will be dealing with loss and the feelings it provokes in this chapter. If you think it could potentially be triggering, please don't read it! It will not be essencial, plot wise.

——

It had been two days since George's death and Helena still hadn't been able to sleep. She would go to bed with Mark, but, while he slept, she'd just stare at the ceiling, thinking or quietly crying. So, on the second night, she got up, quietly, and entered the bathroom.

As she looked to herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but realize the dark circles that weighed down on her expression, along with her almost closed eyes. Helena was exhausted. She was exhausted emotionally, she was exhausted physically and she couldn't sleep, because every time she closed her eyes she saw that mangled body. mangled body.

Running a hand through her hair, she left the bathroom, moving to make herself a cup of hot choca. As she sat in the chair of their hotel room, cup of the drink in hand, Mark seemed to shift in his bed, reaching out for her but not finding Helena. At that, he let his eyes flutter open, sitting up slightly to see his girlfriend sitting on the chair.

"Lee?" He asked, his voice groggy. Helena simply stared down at her beverage, making the man light up the light in his nightstand. "You ok? Why don't you get back in bed?"

Helena hadn't spoke much the last couple of days, which scared Mark more than he was willing to admit. It scared him that he didn't know what the girl was thinking and, because of that, that he couldn't help her.

"I... I don't know." Helena started, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I haven't been sleeping. I didn't sleep yesterday. I can't sleep today either."

Mark took a deep breath before answering. "Is there anything I can do, hun?"

"I don't know." The girl shrugged, answering honestly.

"Come here, come back to bed." Mark motioned for the girl to come over, which she did, pressing a smile to his lips before curling up beside him. "I love you."

"I love you too." Helena whispered back, putting her head down on his chest.

"You're safe here, you know that? I've got you, Lee." Mark reassured her.

"Thank you." The girl shot back, closing her eyes and waiting until she heard Mark's breathing become deeper. Once she did, she let them snap back open, afraid of the images she saw once they were shut.

In her head, she couldn't stop reliving what had happened, what she could have done differently to stop it. She couldn't stop seeing George's mangled face, so swollen she could barely look into his eyes. She couldn't stop visiting their last hug, their last conversation, their last minutes together.

And, deep down, she didn't know that she wanted to. Somehow, his death didn't feel real, this way.

——

Helena Campos had been to her fair share of funerals. Besides the ones of distant family members, which hurt but didn't impact her greatly, her father's funeral was something that would always haunt her. From her mother's wails to the sight of her father's corpse, she had nightmares about it to that day.

Then, there was one of her best friend's funerals. Helena stood in the grave yard, listening to the priest's words with pain in her heart and tears in her eyes. The eye bags that had previously adorned her face were now partially gone, the girl having resorted to medicine to avoid sleep deprivation.

As for her emotional being, not much had changed. Helena still couldn't bring herself to smile, couldn't bring herself to live. She went through her day, she ate and slept, she showered and left her house when she had to. However, it wasn't her that was doing all of this. It was a shell of herself, an empty body, as Helena gripped to her normality as a lifeline, trying her best to seem ok, to ok, even when her soul was broken. She knew she wasn't the only one going through George's death and she didn't want to worry the others.

So, now, listening to the priest's words, she wasn't truly present either, absentmindedly playing with her pigeon pendant. The words came through mumbled, faded, as her eyes burned a spot on the tree in front of her.

Mark pressed her to his side, keeping a comforting hand around her shoulder. When Izzie ran off from the crowd, Cristina and Meredith shot Helena a worried look. At Mark's nod, indicating he had her, the residents all left to follow the blond.

At the end of the funeral, Helena shared a hug with Mrs. O'Malley, her and the boy's family the only few ones to stay behind.

"Lee, honey, do you wanna go get something to eat?" Mark asked her, a hand on the small do her back as they walked to the car.

"I... I'm sorry, I can't. I'm too tired." The girl whispered back to him, Mark pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll just order room service, alright?"

——

It had been 9 days after George's death, and Helena still hadn't gone back to work. She simply didn't have the energy, she wasn't well enough to. More than anything, she was afraid of what might happen when she did.

Mark had had to go back to work, however, and, afraid to leave his girlfriend alone, he'd ask Meredith and Cristina to watch over her.

As Helena's people sat in her bed with her, they chatted.

"You know, I've taken over one of your interns and Howard's pretty great." Meredith told her.

"Yes, Collins's better than any of mine." Cristina agreed, nodding along. "You raised them well."

At the lack of an answer, the two girl's stared at their friend, who stared straight ahead, completely zoned out. Her teary eyes were foggy, almost as if she was somewhere else.

"Baby Einstein?" Cristina called out, putting a hand on her shoulder.

At that, Helena jumped slightly, her eyes focusing on her friend. "What?"