Hey everyone :). This is my first ever Grey's fic. Predominantly about the MerDer/Addek/Maddison love triangle, though there'll be your fair share of Izzie/Alex and the odd sarky one-liner from Cristina as well.

What if we were to rewind the years? Maybe to college. When the staff at Seattle Grace were in their teens and twenties, and permanently drunk, and studying, and getting used to living away from home. What if there were still a bar? And Meredith happened to be in there, drowning her sorrows? And what if a heartbroken McDreamy just happened to wind up there as well? MerDer's story, many years before. The beginning will greatly mirror the show, with a bit more alcohol and a lot more sex. If that's possible. T for now, will probably become M, unless I can get Derek and Meredith to stay away from one another.

Also, I'm not American; I live in the UK. So I have no idea about the American education system, or other things that are country-specific, so I've based a lot of this around how our education system works in the UK. Hope that's okay with everyone. :)

As I said before, this is my first Grey's fic. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, and I promise I will take any feedback on board. I'll also listen to what you all want to see. Reviews are scrumptious. xoxo

For Educative Purposes

As a surgeon, you eventually realise that one moment, one second, can change a life forever. For some, this realisation hits sooner than expected. When it does, the bolt of shock that strikes your body is almost indescribable. You're numb, speechless, tingly, and the notion that nothing lasts forever suddenly leaves an eternal imprint on your brain. At least, that was how the experience had felt to Derek Shepherd, though his brain was marked with an imprint of a different kind.

Conscientious, studious, 'normal' Derek was about to enter his senior year at college and, despite the hard graft and tedious labour that he was putting into trying to gain a place at a top medical school, he had never felt more content. Though he had come from a fairly stable family background, his college years had exceeded that stability, and that was all because of Addison. But in one moment, one second, Addison had shattered that stability. Forever.

"Derek, please!" Addison sobbed, flying down the stairs of their apartment building two at a time in pursuit of her fuming fiancé. As Derek paused in front of the main door that led outside, she too halted. "I… It was just a mistake. One big, stupid mistake, and I… It meant nothing, Derek. Nothing." Derek drew in a deep breath before slowly releasing it, trying to soothe the bubble of anger that was growing in the pit of his stomach at the sound of her shrill voice and piteous excuses. He turned to face her, his heart lurching with hurt as his bright blue eyes met hers. Even now, when her luscious red hair was pulled back out of her face, revealing mascara-smeared cheeks and blotchy skin, an effect of the hour-long screaming match that had just occurred, she looked beautiful.

He shrugged. "What do you want me to say, Addison? I feel sick to look at you."

"We can make this work," Addison insisted, reaching for the sleeves of his shirt and gripping on tightly, desperation plastered across her face. "We can just give it time, and we can make it work. We're Addison and Derek. We're us. Derek, I'm nothing without you-"

"Well, get used to it!" Derek snapped, shaking her off of him and grabbing the door handle, wanting nothing more than to get rid of her and lie down and sleep for the next year. Outside, the rain was lashing at the ground; he could feel the drops spitting on him as they bounced off of the door frame. "Get out."

"Please, Derek, don't do this-"

"Dammit, Addison! I said get out!" In a moment of pure anger that was completely out of character for the collected student, Derek grabbed Addison by the shoulders – though nowhere near forcefully enough to hurt her – and pushed her outside into the hideous September weather, promptly slamming the door shut behind her. He cringed as she hurled herself against it, banging her slight, tender fists against the glass in anguish, crying his name so much so that her voice strained. He couldn't do this. He couldn't sleep in their apartment, in their bed, where he'd seen… He needed to get out, so he quickly hauled the door open and pulled her sobbing form inside.

"Oh, god, Derek. Thank you. Thank you. I promise, it won't… I couldn't. It's over, I promise you," Addison rambled, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Derek scoffed, shaking her off of him once again and, without uttering a word, headed out into the rain, and continuing across the dark courtyard. Addison continued to cry his name from the hallway, but he refused to look back. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew that it had to be far away from the woman who he had intended to spend his life with.

ooooo

What was the purpose of freshman year? Meredith Grey had presumed that its purpose was to have fun, makes friends and drink lots and lots of tequila. It wasn't supposed to be a year devoted to textbooks and studying, and lectures, and sobriety. That was for med school, or, at a push, senior year. Freshman year was supposed to be exciting. So far, her flat, consisting of a shared kitchen and bathroom and four tiny square bedrooms, was empty with the exception of herself. She didn't know if it was some cruel trick of nature, or if her mother had telephoned the college and demanded that Meredith be given a flat to herself to avoid distraction. She wouldn't put it past her. Luckily, Meredith had bonded with a sarcastic yet fun-loving girl from the flat opposite, who had found herself stuck living with a bunch of 'self-obsessed assholes', but Cristina had begrudgingly opted for an early night that evening, with their first day of lectures beginning at 10am the following day. Meredith didn't do early nights. She'd dragged herself to a local bar alone instead, hoping that some other borderline alcoholic freshmen had had the same idea. It seemed that most of the freshmen at Dartmouth College were starting out the year with good intentions.

"Do you ever feel different?" Meredith asked the cheery bartender, her voice slurred as a result of the numerous shots of tequila that she had already tipped down her throat. "I feel different. I want to be a doctor, I do, but… There's so much else to do. I'm not ready to sit in and work and focus. I like drinking. I like bars, I like going out, I like dancing. I like sex. Random guys, flirting, having fun, lots of sex. I don't know. I'm just not ready for that to all stop yet. Do you ever feel like that?"

The bartender chuckled to himself. "I'm twenty-nine, kid. This job is just for extra cash. By day, I'm a travel agent. I'm married, I have a sprog on the way. It stops, eventually. But yeah, I once felt different, too." Satisfied with his response, Meredith sighed, sliding her glass across the bar, which he refilled to the brim with tequila. Staring at the glass, she conjured up the blurry image of her mother in her drunken mind. She would be so disappointed if she could see her now. But that was part of the fun. Her thoughts were interrupted by the shadow that was suddenly cast over the bar.

"Single-malt Scotch, please. Double." Meredith glanced hopefully up at the figure above her, and her heart leapt at the sight of the attractive individual. His hair was dark, ruffled, slick with rain. His stubble framed his perfect jaw; masculine, and not too chiselled or angular. And his eyes. Even in her intoxicated state, Meredith found herself lost in their dreamy blue shade. Mr Perfect smiled down at her, though his smile seemed forced. "You want a drink?" Meredith shook her head, indicating her glass before lifting it to her lips and throwing her head back, downing the harsh liquid in one gulp. Once served, Derek mirrored her actions.

"Are you lonely-drinking too?" Meredith asked, intrigued by the mysterious stranger. Derek hesitated, the small smile returning and lingering on his lips for a moment.

"You could say that. I've had a bad night."

"Me too. You wanna talk?" Derek slowly shook his head, handing the bartender his glass.

"No. I want to drink."