What Do You Hear in These Sounds
What Do You Hear in These Sounds
music and lyrics by Dar Williams
I don't go to therapy to find out if I'm a freak
I go and I find the one and only answer every week
And it's just me and all the memories to follow
Down any course that fits within a fifty minute hour
And we fathom all the mysteries, explicit and inherent
When I hit a rut, she says to try the other parent
And she's so kind, I think she wants to tell me something,
But she knows that its much better if I get it for myself...
And she says
Oooooooh, aaaaaaah,
What do you hear in these sounds?
And... Oooooooh, aaaaaaah
What do you hear in these sounds?
I say I hear a doubt, with the voice of true believing
And the promises to stay, and the footsteps that are leaving
And she says "Oh", I say "What?" She says "Exactly,"
I say "What, you think I'm angry
Does that mean you think I'm angry?"
She says "Look, you come here every week
With jigsaw pieces of your past
Its all on little sound bytes and voices out of photographs
And that's all yours, that's the guide, that's the map
So tell me, where does the arrow point to?
WHO INVENTED ROSES?"
and...
Oooooooh, aaaaaaah
What do you hear in these sounds?
And...Oooooooh, aaaaaaah
What do you hear in these sounds?
And when I talk about therapy, I know what people think
That it only makes you selfish and in love with your shrink
But Oh how I loved everybody else
When I finally got to talk so much about myself...
And I wake up and I ask myself what state I'm in
And I say well I'm lucky, cause I am like East Berlin
I had this wall and what I knew of the free world
Was that I could see their fireworks
And I could hear their radio
And I thought that if we met, I would only start confessing
And they'd know that I was scared
They'd would know that I was guessing
But the wall came down and there they stood before me
With their stumbling and their mumbling
And their calling out just like me...and...
Oooooooh,aaaaaaah, The stories that nobody hears...and...
Oooooooh,aaaaaaah, and I collect these sounds in my ears...and
Oooooooh,aaaaaaah, that's what I hear in these sounds...and...
Oooooooh,aaaaaaah, that's what I hear in these...
that's what I hear in these sounds!
These lyrics are pretty straightforward, so you can probably figure out what this fic is about. I'm setting it up to be simultaneous with the finale, and it won't be particularly plot driven. More like a series of one-shots, giving you access to the characters and their thoughts. I'm dark & twisty, so sometimes I'm Meredith. And I can be ballsy and sharp edged to mask vulnerability, so sometimes I'm Addison. I'm really good at pretending that my life is completely different than it is, so sometimes I'm Derek. And I am socially inept, which makes me George. I'm more George than I'd like to admit, actually. I wish I were more Christina and Bailey. But what all that means is that since I am so many different people, I thought it would be fun to create a fic telling you what they are thinking. Or what I think they are thinking, because I am not Shonda Rhimes.
Which leads to the disclaimer: I own no part of Grey's Anatomy, save for the DVDs and the magazine which I tracked down at a bookstore. And the Dempsey cover of the tv guide, which I didn't find until a week later because every female in the city got to the store before I did. See, if I did own Grey's, I'd have Christina's eyebrows. And Meredith's laugh. And someone else's figure, since I currently have Bailey's..Oh, and I don't own any of Dar's stuff, up to and including the song quoted above. I'd be so hard to live with, if I could write like that.
Chapter 1—The Memo
It was pretty hard to miss; they had all seen it before seeing a single patient. Not only had it been emailed to their hospital addresses, it had been awarded a position of prominence on the locker room bulletin board, the white paper covering up layers of fading or faded offers for used furniture, pets, roommates or rooms to rent. Before their resident let them set foot out of the room, they all had to initial the paper, proof they had seen what they would all rather deny. Someone around here meant business.
TO: All PGY1 Interns
FROM: Richard Weber, MD, FACS, Chief of Surgery
As noted in your original residency contract, Seattle Grace Hospital retains the right to require interns completing their first year to undergo a series of counseling sessions before continuing on to Post Graduate Year 2 status. Because this year has been one of unusual challenges both within and without the hospital, the board and I have decided that instead of requiring the typical career counseling, these sessions should be handled by a more traditional therapist, covering a wider range of issues and topics.
These sessions will be conducted by Susan Burson, M Ed, LMFT, and Jack Burson, PhD. This couple has extensive experience in both individual and couple therapies. The counseling services will be covered for the four sessions through the Residency Review budget, and after that through the psychological provision in our group medical insurance. Information discussed in these sessions will remain completely confidential in accordance with HIPAA regulations and professional guidelines. You will, however, need clearance from the therapists to continue in your residency program.
Please see Patricia to confirm your available times. I remind you that your cooperation in this is mandatory for you to continue in the residency program at Seattle Grace Hospital.
Thank you for your cooperation.
RW/pg
"Seriously?" Outrage made Izzie's whisper audible to everyone around her. "I just finished up with the in-house shrink, and with Heal with Love Sydney, now this?" The five interns were trotting behind Bailey who probably held the land-speed record for those under 5'2". And today she seemed to be going more quickly than usual.
"Maybe, you know this could be a good thing," offered the intern standing next to her. "You've had a rough year, we all have. My dad died, my marriage is dying, Denny died, Meredith's mom died, Meredith di. . ." George's voice changed from a whisper to a squeak mid-syllable when the petite Asian woman to his left whipped around, piercing his confidence with a glare.
"Do not start with the dead Meredith, we do not talk about dead Meredith," Christina hissed. "Go frolic in some meadow with a skunk and rabbit and don't annoy the hunters."
Miranda Bailey came to an abrupt stop. Her five subordinates had been well trained to keep up with her; now they tried to stop, not to stumble over her. They would have succeeded, too, if Alex Karev hadn't been reading case notes for a coveted upcoming surgery. He kept walking, and in moments the whole medical group had collided and twelve arms arabesqued and windmilled in an effort to stay upright. Before any apologies—but after Grey's mouth let out a half snort, half giggle—the interns were backing away, backing away from the Nazi, and the fire in her eyes.
"You people. . ." The resident was rarely at a loss for words. She couldn't remember when it happened last, but it was happening now. "You still do not get what you have done. Each of you, each ONE of you has participated in dismantling rules, the rules of this hospital, the rules of the practice of medicine. Rules that were put there for your protection, for your patients' protection. And you question why the chief thinks that maybe you don't have your lives as much together as you want the rest of us to think? Listen. A messed up doctor leads to messed up patients.
"So before you want to complain about the concern that maybe you don't have your head on quite right, you might want to think about that. About not doing harm. And about the rest of your careers, which could quite possibly be great. All of you, you all could be great.
"So let there be no complaining about any of this therapy or any of the other hoops you might be asked to jump through before you take the scalpel in your hands as residents. Because even if you don't want to be great surgeons, or even good ones, I would prefer that the doctors I mentor not fall short.
"Is. That. Understood?"
The five interns each managed to take a breath in the silence that followed, and then acknowledged that yes, they did understand.
Then the Nazi turned around, and strode down the hall. And because her interns were first stunned and then running to catch up, none saw the smile playing around her lips. Damn, that was almost better than her first day speech. She'd have to write it down when she got a chance, whip it out for the next batch of suck ups who acted like this. Heaven help me, if any other group of interns decides to act like this. Heaven help the hospital and the practice of medicine if another group comes through like this one.