A/N: I am bored. I have not been doing anything productive lately except write fanfics and prompts and all that whatnot. I'm getting somewhere. I have one WIP stuffed somewhere in my hard drive and I still have to look for it. Hopefully, it'll be up soon. Yay. This one? This came out from my frustration of not getting any Mer/Der scenes from last Thursday's episode. And I love Bailey. But I liked the Chief's speech more. Which led me to make this fic. Imma stop now, I'm rambling. Please read and review! :)
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Birthday presents and 1,000 apologies
When you were five, your mother gave you Anatomy Jane as a birthday present. Sure, she looked creepy and all (considering she had an open body cavity with removable internal organs) but you liked her. A lot. You carried her around everywhere and on some occasions, when you waited for your mother in the cafeteria or the OR gallery or the waiting room, some of the interns and nurses would play with you. The interns would tell you what the names of the removable parts are, but you were five and you couldn't remember them much, so you made up names for them.
Like twash and chubble and slivvy. Considerably, the only English non-gibberish word from all your invented names was the jelly pouch, but that's mostly because the thing was squishy.
When you were five, Richard Webber would pull you in his lap as you sat in the gallery—in your pink dress and Mary Janes, your pigtails tickling his chin as he bounces you up and down in his knee while waiting for your mother to finish her surgery below. He simply watches you take apart Anatomy Jane's internal organs and he's surprised you know where to put them back, reciting their names as you place them in their proper positions.
It's been over two decades since you last saw Anatomy Jane. When you and your mother left for Boston, you stuffed her inside a box and you never had the chance to unpack the boxes because your mother was too busy getting herself settled in Boston General. Poor Anatomy Jane was soon replaced by the Cabbage Patch kids and some other toy that held no educational value whatsoever. You still liked Anatomy Jane.
When you and Derek decided to clean out the den so he could have his office, you both found your mother's boxes all piled to the side. You promised him that you weren't going to open any but curiosity got the best of you so you opened one, finding your old stuffed rabbit and Anatomy Jane buried deep inside. You tell Derek of her weird names and you're pretty sure he's less than amused with it but you don't care and you bring her to work later on that day. When Bailey barges in the resident's lounge looking for someone to assist her, she finds you holding on to your old doll and you've earned the right to the surgery. You have no idea how that happened but at least you got the surgery.
In the end, after you've helped save Tori Begler's life, you realized how much Anatomy Jane has helped. She's helped you from being alone when you were five and now that you're an adult, you've helped save a life.
You were alone in the resident's lounge, staring blankly at the old doll in your hands when Derek walked in.
"Hi," he says as he walks over to your bench, pressing his lips on your forehead before sitting down, "how'd things go?"
"Hmm," you hum thoughtfully, your eyes closing briefly at the contact of his lips on your skin. "She's okay. We removed her tumor and put back her organs in all the proper places."
"Like Anatomy Jane?"
A smile crept over your lips as you stared at Derek. "Just like Anatomy Jane," you say, nodding your head.
"I'm glad she made it," Derek says as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, "I guess you got the idea of removing her organs from your doll?"
You laugh, your eyes straying over to the forgotten doll beside you. "Kind of. It was the only thing I could think of."
"Richard told me you were playing with your dolly in the conference room earlier," He teases and you simply roll your eyes, "I guess playtime is good for kids."
"Oh ha ha," you tell him, turning to pick up your doll, and stare at it contemplatively. "The Chief couldn't look at me."
"What?"
"The Chief couldn't look at me," you repeat, sighing heavily. "Or can't. I don't know, he won't look at me. Do you know what's wrong with him?"
"No, sorry," he said, smiling sadly, "I could ask him though."
You shake your head, standing up to put the old, worn doll back in your cubby. "Aww, that's sweet. But it's okay, you don't have to. He'll get over it... I hope."
Derek's staring blankly at the door, watching the myriad of people rushing about outside. You plop down on the bench directly in front of him, jolting him out of his quiet musing.
"Are you okay? You look weird."
Derek looks at you, smiling slightly at your concern. "Things aren't going well with Hunt."
"Who?"
"The new trauma attending," Your eyes widen in recognition, as Derek shakes his head in frustration, "He seems to think the place is a war zone."
"You and Mark not doing so well with him, huh?" You whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "Maybe you should go tell him."
"Tell him what?"
"That his ways aren't working with you. You're all attendings, figure out a way to work with each other."
He hums contemplatively, thoughts running in his head as you pull slightly away from him. Your pager blinks and beeps on your scrub pants and you look up to Derek in apology after reading the message.
"Hey, I gotta go," you whisper, once again breaking Derek from his thoughts. He smiles at you and kisses you softly on the lips as you stand up and fix your hair, "It's the Chief." You say, and he simply nods his head in understanding.
"I'm gonna go talk to Hunt," he says, looking up at you, "I'll meet you after your shift?"
"That would be nice, thank you."
"I hope everything goes well with the Chief."
You look back at him from the door, smiling slightly before heading out. "Yeah, I hope so too."
xxx
You used to be Meredith's pseudo-baby sitter. At one point, when she was three, she accidentally called you "Daddy" but Ellis never bothered to correct her. She called you "Daddy" for weeks, even if you were trying your best to correct her but she wouldn't listen. She would only listen to Ellis. She eventually grew out of the "Daddy" calling phase after Thatcher learned about it and he's told her who her real daddy was.
When she was five, Ellis called you up in the middle of the night asking for what she could give Meredith for her birthday. You just got home from a 36-hour shift and your brain wasn't functioning well due to sleep deprivation so you mutter the first thing you thought would be good for a five-year-old. You told Ellis that Meredith might like a doll for her birthday and when she was satisfied with that answer, she hangs up the phone and you roll over in bed to sleep.
The next day, you see little Meredith behind the nurse's station, playing with something that looked like Barbie with an open body cavity. She's sitting on one of the nurse's swivel chairs, colorful puzzle pieces of plastic internal organs spread out in front of her. She looks up at you happily when you greet her "Happy Birthday" and she goes back to playing with her doll.
She's never let the doll out of her sight since then. Everyday, you'd see her walking around the hospital clutching the ugly doll around, looking for a quiet place to play. She'd follow you around sometimes and you'd give in, bringing her to the cafeteria during your lunch break and she'd sit quietly in your table, stroking the doll's hair as she patiently waited for you to finish eating. Sometimes, you'd find her in the front row of the gallery, sitting beside interns who would tell her what the chubble really is, but she wouldn't listen and she'd still insist on her invented name. Meredith would sometimes sit on your lap while you watched Ellis in surgery and she'd continue to play with her doll, reciting the names in proper order and putting it back in all the proper places. Right then and there, you knew that Meredith would grow up to be a doctor considering she knew parts of the anatomy at age five, and she knew where things are all connected to each other.
When Ellis left for Boston with Meredith, you suddenly missed having the little girl around, and memories of the five-year-old playing with Anatomy Jane burned in your head. Ellis told you she'd leave Thatcher if you left Adele, but you got scared and you backed out, forcing Ellis to simply move away and forget you. Meredith cried when Ellis went to the hospital to gather her things, and she ran along the halls looking for you with red-rimmed eyes as Ellis took her by the hand, dragging little Meredith away from you. They left, and it took you over two decades before you saw Meredith again. It took you over twenty years before you saw the girl that could've been your daughter if you weren't so afraid back then.
Meredith was carrying Anatomy Jane around during rounds and memories of long ago come flooding back in. You call Tori Begler's team to an empty conference room, and Meredith sat across from you, fiddling with the old doll just like she did when she was a child. Suddenly, you can't find yourself to look at Meredith anymore because you feel like you're the reason she grew up alone. Truth is, every time you look at Meredith, you feel your heart breaking because part of you knows that it's you to blame that her life got screwed up. You've never seen anyone so broken at such a young age, and as an adult, she'd had to face more challenges than anybody over the age of twenty had to. Meredith had to learn how to take care of herself and you can't help but think how much of a failure you've been.
After Tori's epic surgery, you call on Nurse Debbie to page Meredith to the conference room. She shows up five minutes after, her feet shuffling on the floor as she closes the door behind her.
"You paged?" She asks and you look up from your paperwork.
"Yeah um, yeah… how's Tori?"
"Uh, she's good. Stable." She answers, and you simply nod your head, silence filling the space between the two of you. You've wanted to tell Meredith about this for the longest time, but you've never had the chance, so today, you take the leap and tell her everything you've always wanted to tell her. You sigh heavily, before looking up at her.
"You aren't imagining things. You used to run around here with that doll all the time." You tell her and Meredith smiles slightly at the memory, "Took her everywhere—the cafeteria, the OR gallery. Tori's got a whole army. You didn't have any. Seeing Anatomy Jane reminded me of how much I was to blame for that. You're a living reminder of every failure in my life, and that's not your fault. And if I thought 'I'm sorry' would hold any meaning for you at all, I would say it. I'd say it a thousand times a day."
Meredith simply stares at you and you don't expect her to say anything. You feel the minutes tick by before she actually moves, and you see tears stinging her eyes yet she still refuses to cry. She's never changed since she was a child.
"Thank you," she whispers and suddenly, you feel like you're not talking to the adult Meredith anymore. All you see now is the five-year-old Meredith Grey, in her pigtails and a pretty pink dress; with little white Mary Janes to match. You now see the child who could've been your daughter, and at this point, the only thing you could wish for is to turn back time and make everything better.
But you can't. So the only thing that you could do is to stand up and hug her for everything that's worth, because you love Meredith Grey with your life and you've promised yourself that you're not going to break her anymore.
"I'm so sorry Meredith," you say as she leans on to your embrace, "for everything."
"I never blamed you, you know."
You nod your head and you pull away slightly from her. "You never blamed anyone."
She giggles, just like her five-year-old self and you smile. "Maybe I did," she says, finally letting go of your embrace, "at least in my head. I did blame a few people."
"I'm sorry," you say again and she shakes her head, "for letting you down. For being the reason that you're alone…"
"I'm not alone anymore Chief," she says, smiling through teary eyes, "I have family now."
And you know she's not. Because even if she's grown up with no father and an absent mother, she's found a family of her own with her friends. She's got Derek now, and you desperately pray that they'll stay together for the rest of their lives.
"I'm glad you're happy now, Meredith."
"Thank you Chief."
You let out a breath, smiling at her as you walk towards the door to head out. "I'm always here if you need anything."
"I'll remember that," she says and you step out of the room, feeling better than ever before.
xxx
Meredith sent you a message that she was gonna be late for a few minutes because she had to take a shower before meeting you. So you sit in the hospital lobby, facing the elevators so you'd know if she's come down from the surgical floor. The doors open and you look up thoughtfully, hoping Meredith was one of the passengers. She wasn't, but Miranda Bailey was.
"What are you still doing here, Shepherd?" Miranda asks as she walks over to your seat, "Waiting for Grey?"
"Mmm," you hum contemplatively, smiling at Miranda as you look up at her, "as a matter of fact, yes."
She gives you a small smile before sitting on the empty chair beside you. You turn around in your seat, propping your head up with your elbow as you face Miranda.
"You look wound up," you state and Miranda smirks at you.
"You got that right." She says, and sighs heavily. "Derek, I am a good doctor, right?"
"Of course you are," you tell her and she slumps deeper into her seat, "If you weren't, you probably wouldn't have managed to deal with a previously inoperable tumor."
"You'd have to thank your girlfriend for that one," she mutters, "she's gonna be a great surgeon when she gets to do her fellowship."
"Yeah well, I hope she already knows that," you say, your head once again turning to look at the elevator. Still no Meredith so you face Miranda again, cocking your head to the side when she doesn't answer. "What's bothering you?"
"Erica Hahn doesn't seem to believe in my capabilities as a surgeon," she mutters, rolling her eyes before continuing, "She is a pain in the ass, and she doesn't have the right to not believe in my capabilities. Because I am Miranda Bailey. And I am a damn good doctor if I say so myself."
You chuckle beside her, earning a smack on the arm from Bailey. "What?" You ask incredulously as you try to keep the smirk away from your face, "Why are you letting Hahn get to you Miranda? You know you're more than that. If she is a pain in the ass, then let her be a pain in the ass. You're good at what you do."
"Hmm, now you sound like my interns."
"Residents," you correct and Bailey simply rolls her eyes.
"My residents, fine." She concedes and she looks up to find Meredith walking over to the two of you, "I guess I should leave you two lovebirds alone."
Meredith stops in front of you, smiling at Miranda as she stands up to head home. "Hi, Dr. Bailey," she says as you wrap an arm around her waist.
"Hello Grey. Where's that doll of yours?" Miranda asks, her eyes straying over to Anatomy Jane's head sticking out of Meredith's tote bag, "Oh, there she is. You better take care of that thing—she helped a lot today."
Meredith smiles as she pushes the doll deeper into her bag. "I will," she says, a sparkle evident in her eyes when Miranda turned to look at you.
"Yes?" You ask and Bailey huffs before moving away.
"And you, you better take care of my resident," she mutters before walking away from the two of you, "I need more brains in my OR who likes to help patients rather than attendings who refuse to help."
"What was that about?" Meredith asks as she shifts the tote bag higher on her shoulder and you've relinquished your hold on her waist. "Is she okay?"
"She'll be fine," you tell her, kissing the side of her head as you walk out the doors, "You know nothing stops Bailey."
She shrugs when you open the door of your car and she slides in, pulling the car lock up to let you in the driver's seat. You look at her before starting the car and she stares back at you questioningly.
"How was it with the Chief?" You ask and she smiles slightly, and you see her eyes shine in the dark, "You okay?"
"Yeah," she says, nodding her head, "Everything's okay."
"You sure?"
Her fingers find the side of your head, tangling briefly with your hair. She smiles, leaning her head on the car's headrest as she looks at you in the dark.
"Everything's okay," she says as you take her hand and kiss her fingers, "He said sorry."
"For what?"
"For everything," she whispers and you look up, seeing the moisture in her eyes. "I never blamed him, but it made things a lot better."
You turn the keys on the ignition and turn to look at Meredith before heading home.
"I'm glad it made things better." You whisper as you pull out of the parking lot to head home for the night.
"So, can I open more boxes tonight?" She interrupts, giggling madly when she hears you groan.
"Fine," you give in as you turn around the curb, "But can I at least get my office soon?"
"Whatever you say honey," she says, and you both fall into your regular silly banters all the way home.