Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's (or kill characters for shock value), nor do I own the song used for the title.
It's season finale time, so naturally, a one shot had to be written to fix the mess that Shonda made! :) It's written chronologically, and like the last one shot I wrote, contains glimpses that span over time, and not just a few days. The title is taken from one of my favorite Ingrid Michaelson songs, "Are We There Yet." I hope you enjoy it!
...
June 16th
Two rescue helicopters arrived early on Saturday afternoon, fifty-three hours after the crash. They all sat in a cluster eating their rationed snacks that Cristina had found in Lexie's bag.
Even in death, she helped them survive.
Derek was busy examining Meredith's scalp with his good hand, tracking the seven inch cut that zigzagged across the back of her head. By then, dried blood had matted her hair to the wound, which provided a temporary bandage until she could get stitches. His head whipped up toward the sky when he heard the propellers, and they all sat and stared, unmoving, wondering if it was real.
The paramedics took them up into the chopper one by one, and Derek insisted on going last, wanting the others to get to safety first. As Derek was being strapped to the harness in preparation for being lifted, the paramedic scanned the scene.
"Is this all of you?" he asked.
Derek swallowed thickly and looked to his left. "There's one more. She was trapped under the wing, and didn't make it. You have to get her, okay? You can't leave her behind."
The paramedic nodded. "There's another helicopter overhead. I'll let them know. They'll get her."
"Thank you."
After they were all accounted for, the paramedic signaled for the pilot to head back toward Seattle, but Cristina shook her head vehemently. "No. No, we are not leaving until Lexie is put onto the other chopper."
"Ma'am, we really should—" the pilot began before Cristina cut him off.
"No! Do you hear me? We crashed as a group, and living or dead, we're going back home as a group!" Cristina nearly screamed. She glared at the pilot like she would tackle him out of the cockpit if she needed to, and he shifted gears in resignation.
"Okay. Okay, we'll wait," he said.
Meredith weaved her fingers through Cristina's, her other hand holding Derek's, and she squeezed. "Thank you."
...
June 19th
Derek was released from the hospital after two days spent recovering from surgery. He'd broken twelve of the twenty-seven bones in his left hand, but Callie was confident that with time and extensive physical therapy, he would probably regain full use of it in a few months. Meredith's scalp and thigh were stitched while Derek was in surgery the day they were rescued, and despite the pain, she drove herself home that night to see her daughter.
When Meredith walked in the front door, Zola toddled into the foyer from the living room, where was playing with April, and her happy smile was infectious.
"Mommy!" she cheered in delight.
Though she was advised not to until her leg healed, Meredith picked Zola up anyway and held her until she lost track of time. Tears dripped onto Zola's leopard-printed pajamas, a birthday gift from Lexie, and she let herself cry, comforted by Zola's sweet baby smell.
It was incredible, really, how much better Zola made things without even trying.
And now, she sat snuggled between her parents in their bed, staring curiously as the large, dark blue cast on Derek's left hand, and the thick bandage wrapped around his forearm where the jagged plane metal had sliced his skin.
"Boo-boo?" she asked him.
"Yeah, Daddy hurt his hand. But I'll be okay, Princess," Derek assured her.
Zola leaned down and pressed a kiss to the cast, just as Derek had done for her a few weeks ago when she pinched her finger while playing with her blocks, then she smiled at him. "Better?"
Derek scooped Zola into his lap with his good hand and hugged her. "All better, Dr. Zo. Thank you," he said.
He whispered something in Zola's ear, and the little girl crawled over to Meredith. She kissed Meredith's thigh as she did for Derek, and rubbed the top of the bandage gently. "Better?" she repeated.
"Yeah. Yeah, Mommy's all better," Meredith said softly, noticing the pink polish on Zola's tiny nails. She felt the tears sting her eyes, and she dropped her head into her hand, trying to hide her sadness from her daughter.
Derek frowned in concern. "Mer, what?" he asked.
"Lexie. She, uh, she painted Zola's nails a few days ago. She was in the living room painting her toes, and I really needed to take a shower. Lexie offered to watch her, and when I came downstairs, Zola was so excited to show me her nails that matched Lexie's toes," Meredith said, pulling a tissue from the box on her nightstand. "Zola loved spending time with her."
"I know," Derek said. He wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her close. "I know. She was a good aunt."
"She was."
Meredith buried her nose in his shoulder and closed her eyes. She lost Lexie, but she got to keep Derek. That night, Meredith set aside her grief for her sister, and let herself be grateful for her husband.
...
June 22nd
The funeral was on a Friday. It was officially summer now, and a particularly warm day in Seattle. The sun bathed their backs in warmth as they all stood in the cemetery. Lexie was laid to rest next to Susan, and Meredith noticed the small headstone next to her late stepmother's, round and charcoal gray with the name Pumpkin engraved on it.
"I dug up my mom's cat. My mom didn't leave any instructions because it was so... unexpected, so we had to figure out on our own what she would have wanted. And my mom loved that cat, so I dug her up. The cat. From her little grave in our backyard. And I snuck into the cemetery in the middle of the night, and reburied her right beside my mom. And it was creepy, and morbid, carrying around a dead, decaying cat through the cemetery in the middle of the night. But it made my mom really happy. At least, I like to think it did."
As awful and unexpected as both of their deaths were, Meredith was comforted in the fact that Lexie was reunited with her mom, the one person she missed more than any other.
She remembered her own mother, then. And George, and the baby she and Derek lost, all of whom were happy, and in a better place, where tragedy and death didn't exist. Meredith smiled at the thought. Lexie was in good company in heaven or wherever.
Thatcher stood in the front near the coffin, flanked on either side by Molly and Eric, Molly's husband. Laura was there, too. She was five now, much older than the last time Meredith and Derek saw her, back when she was a tiny newborn in the NICU. She had blue eyes and blonde hair, and was the spitting image of Meredith at that age.
Mark came, too. He was Teddy's last official patient at Seattle Grace, who stayed a few extra days to monitor him. He was on strict bed rest, which was temporarily lifted for today because there wasn't a chance in hell he'd miss Lexie's funeral, his last chance to say goodbye. Mark's been quiet these past few days, still too weak and grief-stricken to want to talk to anyone. Even if he can't express the pain out loud, it was etched all over his face.
Meredith sighed helplessly as she shifted Zola to her other hip, careful not to put all of her weight on her left leg, which still ached from the puncture wound and subsequent deep stitches in her thigh. The whole scene felt sickeningly familiar. The same group of people had stood in the same cemetery not too long ago, and gathered around a coffin in black clothes, mourning someone who shouldn't have died.
The service ended around noon, and afterward, Meredith approached her father and her sort-of family with Derek and Zola in tow to offer them comfort. It was the first time Thatcher officially met Zola, and even though it was the worst of all possible circumstances, meeting his second granddaughter made him smile that day. Regardless of what he had or hadn't done in the past, he was a father that lost his daughter, and Meredith was glad she could give him at least a little happiness.
Laura took Zola's hand, and the two girls began picking buttercup flowers that sprouted nearby to keep themselves entertained while the grown-ups talked. They came back with bunches of them in each of their tiny fists, and Laura smiled up at her mom.
"Can me and Zola give these to Aunt Lexie?" she asked.
"Of course you can," Molly said, her eyes red-rimmed with tears. She wiped them away with her hand, and lifted her daughter so she could place the flowers on top of the coffin.
Meredith picked Zola up and let her do the same. Zola released the yellow flowers, and they scattered across the shiny wood surface. "Good job, Zo," she praised, glancing at the cat's grave again and smiling. "Those will make Aunt Lexie really happy."
At least, Meredith liked to think they did.
...
June 30th
Meredith descended the steps slowly, letting Zola walk next to her after returning from a quick diaper change. At seventeen months old, Zola was all about independence. She liked feeding herself, choosing her own outfits, and deciding which DVD to watch when they had movie night on the couch. Tonight, it was The Little Mermaid, which Derek could quote from memory thanks to the years spent babysitting his nieces and nephews back in New York.
He grinned when they walked into the living room, ready to switch from pause to play once they were settled. Getting back to normalcy was a slow process, but it was comforting. Nice, even. But despite the years spent wishing for a roommate-free house, it still felt empty without Lexie there.
Meredith kissed the top of Zola's head and set her back in her purple chair where she had been eating her Goldfish crackers and sipping on apple juice, her favorite movie snack. "There you go, ZoZo."
"All set?"
"Yeah," Meredith said, dropping down on the couch next to him.
Derek reached for the remote, pressing play on the DVD. Zola clapped when Sebastian started singing, one of her favorite parts of the movie, and both of her parents smiled.
"So how many diapers do I owe you once my hand is fixed? A thousand?" Derek asked.
Meredith leaned into him and shook her head. "None. You injured yourself because you thought I was hurt, and you wanted to find me. Plus, I've been traveling all over the country for interviews and the boards these past few months, and you took on double parenting duty. How about we call it even?"
"Okay, then. Deal."
"That reminds me," Meredith said, patting her lap. "I need to check your hand."
He put his hand on her lap like he'd done every night for nearly two weeks, and let Meredith do a quick once-over to make sure it was healing, per Callie's instructions in exchange for letting him out of the hospital to recover at home.
Meredith examined each fingertip to make sure he was getting adequate blood flow, and changed the outermost layer of his arm bandage to avoid infection. Callie had sent him home with a bag of surgical gauze and tape, and in the last few days, Meredith had mastered the art of bandage changing, able to unwrap and re-wrap in under five minutes.
Derek watched as she worked, smiling at how gentle she was, biting her lower lip in focused determination. Once she was finished, she patted his shoulder. "All done."
"Thank you," he said, tilting her chin up to kiss her. "Hmm, do I get to check your scalp now?"
Meredith laughed against his lips. "I guess it's only fair," she said, turning to face away from him.
He carefully separated her hair using his only available hand, and checked the wavy line of stitches from one end to the other. "Looking good," Derek said in approval. "No pain?"
"No pain. Just itchy," she shrugged.
"And your thigh?"
"Hurts sometimes, but I can deal with it. It's your hand that I worry about," Meredith said, swinging her legs over his. "And Mark. And my dad. And the day Zola realizes 'Exie' isn't here, and asks us where she is."
"Me, too," he admitted, draping a blanket from the back of the couch over their laps.
"Yesterday, I was studying for the solo surgery I have coming up that Bailey is letting me do, and I was trying to remember this rare post-op complication, but I couldn't think of what it was. I pulled out my phone to call Lexie because I knew she would know, because she knows everything. Then I remembered that she was dead, and I couldn't ask her. I still can't think of what it is."
"Meredith."
Meredith exhaled, dropping her head onto his shoulder. "Just... tell me it's going be okay. I know I yell at you whenever you say that, but I just need to hear it, anyway."
Derek pressed a kiss to her temple and felt her body relax. "It's gonna be okay," he promised.
"Okay."
Zola crawled up onto the couch, cuddling herself between them, and Meredith started to believe it really could be okay again one day.
...
July 4th
Tonight, they made love for the for time since the crash, ringing in the Fourth of July with some fireworks of their own. They're both bandaged, bruised, and stitched, so it wasn't their usual loud, athletic variety, but they were still left breathless afterward. It had been far too long, and they craved the intimacy they'd been missing. Just the two of them. No death, no work, no diapers. Them.
Meredith rested her head on his chest, and listened to the thud-thud of his heart under her ear. She'd always loved this part, too. Afterward, when they were sated and happy, and life was put on hold for a little while.
"I love you," Derek said, his fingers trailing down her bare back.
Meredith felt her skin prickle with goosebumps and she smiled. "I love you, too," she said softly. She raised herself up on her elbow. "Derek?"
"Hmm?"
"I want to turn down the position at the Brigham."
Derek shifted to sit up against the headboard. "What?"
"I don't want to uproot us and move us across the country for a job I don't really want, to do a specialty I don't really love," she said honestly.
"Meredith, you could be a world-renowned general surgeon. You're great at—"
"I don't want to be a general surgeon just because I'm good at it," Meredith said, cutting him off before he had the chance to tell her all the reasons why she should be. "I was good at OB, too, but that doesn't mean I want to spend my whole career on the vagina squad."
What are you saying, then?" he asked.
"I'm saying I want to go back to neuro. That's what I'm passionate about. And it has nothing to do with you being my husband, except it has everything to do with you being my husband," she said, reaching for his forgotten t-shirt on the edge of the bed and slipping it on.
"Mer."
"Derek, my sister is dead. She managed to survive Gary Clark, who had a bullet in his gun for her that day. Instead, she died in some freak plane crash that probably could've been prevented, and there was nothing we could do to save her life," Meredith said, shaking her head in frustration. "And she died with all this regret, because she played it safe. She did what people expected of her to do, and watched her life happen in front of her. I can't do that. I won't."
"I understand that; I do."
"April was set to take the neuro fellowship if she passed her boards, but then she failed and got fired, so it's up for grabs again. I want to take it before Hunt hires two new people, because he thinks we're both going to Boston. If me being on neuro is going to mess with us because you can't trust me, I don't have to work with you. I can work with Nelson or Weller. We won't even have to interact, if that'll make it easier. But Derek, this is my career. I get a say in this, too," Meredith said.
Derek pursed his lips, letting her speak. She was his wife. She was Zola's mother. Whatever decision they made, it would affect all of them. And she got a say.
"I want our house on our land. I don't want Boston where I'll be living in the shadow of Ellis Grey as a general surgeon. I want Seattle. And I want the neuro job," Meredith said. She smiled at him slightly, because she wasn't sure what else to do. "Your turn."
"Okay."
Meredith narrowed her eyes in confusion. She expected a fight or at the very least, a few days' worth of silence and brooding. "Okay?" she echoed.
"I didn't know you felt that way about neuro. You never said anything, and I never thought to... Meredith, if you want to be a neurosurgeon, you can do that. I'm not gonna stand in your way. I don't want us to move to Boston if your only reason for agreeing to go is to make me happy. I don't want you to settle. You've worked too hard. So if you're serious, we'll figure it out. We can make it work," Derek said.
"But then there's your Alzheimer's research. I... you said that was your dream, Derek. Curing Alzheimer's is your dream, and Harvard is throwing money at you so you can do it. I can't take that away from you," she said.
He was ready to drop everything to move to Boston for her career in general surgery, and now, he was willing to stay in Seattle so she could pursue neuro, though it came at a great personal and professional cost to him. Meredith bit her lip in guilt, ready to retract the last five minutes of ranting she'd done, but he spoke first.
"Hunt cleared the decks of a lot of surgeons. More than half the hospital's residents are leaving. I'm sure we could work something out, maybe get a research team in place at Seattle Grace. I don't have to cure Alzheimer's in Boston. I can do it here," Derek said.
"How?"
"Just because the clinical trial didn't work out doesn't mean I gave up. I haven't stopped doing research for two years. Lexie was actually helping me with it in her spare time. There's a cancer treatment out there that's reversing Alzheimer's symptoms and brain damage in mice. I've been in contact with the scientists who developed the study, and they're in the process of a trial start-up. It'll be tough to get FDA backing, but I'll work my ass off, Meredith."
She wiped her eyes with the collar of Derek's shirt she was wearing, and she smiled. "Are you serious about all this?"
"If you are, yeah. I am," he nodded.
"I am."
Derek cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her. "Then we'll stay."
They make love again that night, and the idea of moving to Boston was quickly forgotten. Seattle was home. Seattle was where they would stay.
...
July 14th
It's been one month since Lexie died. The physical injuries they all suffered were healing, but the emotional damage still lingered, a constant reminder that they'd lost one of their own. Meredith and Derek sat in Lexie's old room, which had once been April's, and before that, Izzie's. The day April moved out, Lexie hauled her stuff from the attic, jumping at the chance to have an actual bedroom before another roommate inevitably moved in.
But now, no more roommates would move in, because they were moving out. A majority of their belongings had already been boxed and shipped over to their new home in the moving trucks, but they saved Lexie's room for last, mostly because they couldn't bring themselves to do it until it was necessary. Even walking in the room felt strangely intrusive, let alone going through her things.
Thatcher gave Meredith the go-ahead to donate whatever she felt was okay to give away, and simply asked that anything cherished from her childhood be returned. They found photo albums, letters, school memorabilia, her white doctor coat and stethoscope, and a few other items he might want to remember his daughter, and put them all into a box to give to him.
They decided to donate her clothes, but everything else, Meredith and Derek wanted to keep, most especially the framed photo they found. It was of Lexie and Zola from Zola's birthday party earlier that year, the two of them sitting on the floor together next to a pile of presents.
Zola, her mouth covered in pink frosting, is pressing her lips to Lexie's cheek, and Lexie is laughing, accepting the messy, sticky kiss from her niece.
Meredith stared at the picture for a long time. She hadn't seen it before, and she wasn't sure who took it, but she knew she'd keep it forever.
"We can put it in Zola's room at the new house," Derek said, sitting next to Meredith on the floor.
"I'd like that," Meredith said softly.
Zola dropped down onto Derek's lap, and pointed to the picture in excitement. "Exie!" she squealed happily.
"You're right, Zo," Meredith said, smiling at her. "That is Aunt Lexie."
Meredith and Derek put the picture on the shelf in their daughter's bedroom at the new house, and Zola always remembered who Aunt Lexie was. They all did.
they say there's linings made of silver
folded inside each raining cloud
well we need someone to deliver
our silver lining now