A/N: I basically haven't posted stories in a while here on because I've pretty much migrated to Livejournal. But I had a sudden burst of desire to post something here, so I give you my latest Grey's fic. It's slightly old because I wrote it when the crossover episodes were just starting, but I hope you enjoy my take on something that should have happened. R&R as per usual.
I put you in a tiny box. After the divorce, I made you petty and inconsequential and nothing special so that you could fit into this tiny little box that would help me get out of bed in the morning but now…now I have to take you out of the box because I need to believe that you can do this, that you can save my brother. I need you to be a god. Just today, be a god.
Her words ring through your head over and over like a broken record and no matter what you're doing or what you want to focus on, her agonizingly desperate plea just will not go away. It nearly broke your heart to look into her tear-filled eyes all those hours ago. She had looked pained in a way that you couldn't even remember seeing in her in all the years that you were together. You'd never felt a stronger need to right what has been done wrong, and it's starting to tear you apart.
You have always had to be the hero in every situation that you've been in. When you were a child, you played the good guy; the law enforcer in the game of Cops and Robbers, the chivalrous gun-wielder of Cowboys and Indians. You protected your sisters, your family, your dog, everything that you could. Even now, you have this need to be someone's "knight in shining whatever," as Meredith had once called you. It's a part of your innate spirit and you really can't help it even if you tried.
It's been hard on you losing patient after patient and feeling like you have helped more people into their grave than have saved lives. As a doctor, you feel like you've failed, and that is the reason that keeps you from accepting this surgery for your former brother-in-law. This surgery would be too complicated, too risky and the odds of survival just aren't good in the slightest. Most importantly, though, you just can't fathom being the one to kill Archer Forbes Montgomery.
But how can you not try to save him.
As hard as it is to think about losing Archer on the table, it is just as hard to think about letting him die without any help. Despite the fact that he had been overprotective of Addie when the two of you were together, you still cared for him. He had been family, and you bonded on a level that only a husband and brother could. You two made fun of Addie for her ridiculous amount of shoes and her ugly futon couch that she finally got rid of. All of that still means something to you, and if not for sentimental value, then on a familial level. He is still family and so is Addie.
Those pleading eyes would haunt you for the rest of your life if you didn't do all that you could to make things right for her. Maybe you owed her this for what you put her through.
You had told her that you'd take the night to think about being the one to operate on Archer and would let her know once you made a decision, but a phone call just seems inadequate. Instead, you settle on asking Richard where she was staying, and to no surprise, Addie is staying at the same one she'd lived at after your divorce.
You thank him and quickly make your way out of the hospital after he gives you an affirmative squeeze to the shoulder and tells you that you've made a good decision. He doesn't know what you've decided, but it's definitely a relief to know that someone believes in what you are doing.
The drive to the hotel is a short one, and you understand why she chose it. If anything were to arise overnight, she would be able to rush to the hospital with ease. It almost makes you wish that your plot of land was a little closer to Seattle Grace, but that was insignificant now, especially when you've yet to build your house there for you and Meredith.
Once you make it through the hotel main doors, you make a beeline for the elevator and ride up the twenty three floors. After you knock three times, she opens the door slowly and looks at you. She's still wearing the black outfit that you saw her in earlier; her eyes red and puffy from what you know were countless tears. It's obvious that she hasn't done much but worry about her brother and quite possibly has just been waiting for your call.
You give her a sympathetic smile and ask, "Can I come in?"
She nods and says, "Yeah," ever so quietly before moving aside for you to step into her hotel room.
The room looks like it's just been made. There were no wrinkles on the bed—a sign that she hadn't tried resting at all—just a few of her things scattered on the table and an unopened suitcase sitting on the floor.
You watch as she takes a few steps towards the bed and then turns around to walk back to you before heading back to the bed. You can practically hear the wheels turning in her head, and you know that as she's pacing she's internally debating whether you've come here to tell her good news or bad news.
Not wanting to make her suffer for too long, you decide to speak up and just come out with it. "I'll do Archer's surgery, Addie," you start, still standing near the door, "I can't promise to be a god, and you really can't ask that of me. But I can't stand back and watch your brother die. I'm going to do my best to save him."
The words "for you" flit across your mind fleetingly, but you're sure that she knows that she's at least partially the reason for which you're willing to operate on her brother. Saying it would just put the both of you in a position you hadn't been in for a while and one that you'd never thought you'd get back to.
That goes out the window, however, when you watch a small smile creep upon her lips and her eyes well up with tears of joy and relief, a beautiful sight even with the underlying pain.
She takes the step to get to you and she says, "Thank you." The words are quickly said again as her hands go to the back of your neck, and you know what's going to happen next but you don't resist or stop it. You just smile lightly.
Her gentle, pained face inches closer to yours, and your lips meet hers just as they've always met hers. The kiss is soft and tender, lingering a little too long which would be the downfall of your night.
Your lips suckle hers for just a moment longer before you start to pull away. Her eyes slowly flutter open to look into yours in a silent question. You merely smile and press your lips against hers once more. Your hands travel to the bottom of her jacket and start to push it off of her. Her hands which were on your neck slide down to your chest and push you gently away.
"You're proposing to Meredith," she says softly. You know that it's a statement and not a question but you answer anyway.
"I am," your hand comes up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and you have a momentary thought that you can't recall ever seeing her hair this short before, "But not tonight. Tonight I'm not petty, inconsequential, or nothing special; not when I'm doing this for you."
That seems to be a good enough answer for her because she doesn't protest anymore. You relieve her of her jacket, letting it fall to the floor by your feet. She mews softly when you slip your hands underneath her blouse right at her waist, and you give her a quick kiss at the corner of her mouth before peeling her shirt off of her.
The rest is a blur because the both of you have done this countless times before and each movement is practically recalled through muscle memory. But the thing is you haven't ever done this before. You've never shared a moment such as this one where you know that it's going to be the last time that this will ever happen, the last time that you'll make love.
You both know that you're doing this for her because she needs this right now. Not only does she need to calm her nerves over her brother, but you both need to get some kind of closure for yourselves. You cannot stand for being put into her tiny little box after eleven years together, and you know that so long as she has you in there, she can't really move on either. This is why you have to do this tonight.
Your bodies naturally move against each other underneath the cool covers of her bed until you both reach your elated climaxes together. You collapse over her, your forehead pressed against the pillow next to her, and you're both clinging on to each other's bodies.
You finally let her go and roll off of her to lie on your back, staring up at the ceiling. You don't need to look at her to know that she has the same sad, distant expression that's clear upon your face right now. Your hand catches hers beside you and squeezes it gently.
Turning your body and leaning over, you press a light kiss to her cheek which causes her to smile. You look deep into her eyes and no other words are said because anything that could ever leave your lips just wouldn't be enough. The silence that you share and the looks in your eyes say it all.
You promise that you'll try and save her brother, and she says that you could never fit into a tiny little box.
Those are your final thoughts as you pick up your scattered clothes and dress yourself. You leave a hopeful, smiling Addison as you shut the door behind you.