AN: I don't really know where the hell this came from…I was just thinking about how Ellen was in Friends, and how maybe Meredith could have been in Friends instead, and then it somehow turned into an Ellis-Mer crappy relationship therapy type thing, too. Which sounds retarded, but just read it and maybe you'll enjoy..?
Obvs, Grey's nor Friends belong to me, and nothing I write about any of the actors from either show is true…oh, and no offense intended to Jennifer Aniston.
Hope you like, reviews would be cool ;)
You're all working on the same patient - Bailey, Burke, Derek and Addison, that is, and you, Cristina and Alex are their interns, and the Chief is involved because it's a high profile case with extreme publishing potential, and Izzie and George have the day off but they live with you, so they're here, too - and in trying to figure out the best course of action - over which there was much dispute, because Addison was worried about the baby, and Burke about the risk of a pneumothorax, and Derek about brain bleeds and the Chief about lawsuits - you decided that surgery was the best way forward, and it just so happens that your mother (successfully, of course) had done the same procedure a few years back, and you had the surgery on tape and offered to let them watch it, so now you're all in the living room in Ellis' old house - Bailey, Burke, Derek, Addison, the Chief, you, Cristina, Alex, Izzie and George - watching your mother go to town with a sclapel.
And it's more than a little awkward.
Because Cristina lied to Burke about moving in, and Derek has a wife (who is sat not eight feet away from you on your sofa), but is helping get your mother into a clinical trial, one that the Chief recommended, and there's some sort of secret history there, and Alex cheated on Izzie, and George is just generally an awkward person.
But, in the spirit of being good surgeons, you're all doing what's best for your patient and powering on through. And you know it's unprofessional and would probably get you booted out of the program - despite Richard's somewhat shady past with your mother - but the full bottle of tequila that's in plain view in your very well-stocked liquor cabinet (and your bosses probably think you're a bunch of sordid alcholics, but whatever) is looking so deliciously tempting, because Derek's eyes keep straying from the surgery to your general direction, and it burns, and Addison is right there, and you just really need a drink.
"Her lungs seem to be holding up well," Burke observes, pushing his glasses gently up the slope of his nose, elegantly poised in the armchair to your right. "No collapses, or air embolisms; as long as our patient isn't under anaesthesia for too long, I think her lungs should be just fine."
"The brain looks good, too," Derek pipes up, tearing his eyes away from you to watch the neurosurgeon working alongside your mother, "the swelling is minimal, and as long as we can avoid the Heparin drip, bleeding shouldn't be a problem."
"Baby's heart rate is strong, it's not showing D cells or signs of distress…everything looks good."
Bailey and the Chief are frowning. "I don't like the look of that liver. The cirrhosis is incredibly advanced. It's in a similar state to our patient's, and there's no telling whether it'll hold out through the surgery and recovery. She may well need a transplant."
"Bailey's right. She's on the list, but if something were to suddenly go wrong during the surgery…"
"She'd die before we could get her a liver."
Bailey glares at Cristina, who's squished into your side on your other armchair. "A little less bluntness and little more positivity wouldn't go amiss, Yang."
"Sorry Doctor Bailey."
"Still," Addison chimes in, shifting on your sofa and trying not to watch Derek watch you, her voice just the wrong side of forcibly optimistic, "there seem to be no complications at the moment, at least."
"Wait for it," you say, seconds before your mother's patient's heart rate monitor flatlines and her OR erupts with noise and motion, Ellis' voice screaming for padels and epinephrine and phenobarbitol.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
You all watch with bated breath as your mother fights to rescucitate her patient - even though you told them all yesterday that the surgery had been a success, so there's no basis for the anticipation, really - charging to 10 joules, 15, 20, before the heart starts beating beneath your mother's hands and you all let out a collective sigh of relief.
George smiles. "She got her back."
"Of course she did, Bambi, she's Ellis Grey."
"She's really not as amazing as you think she is, Cristina."
"Are you kidding? She won the Harper Avery award, Meredith. Twice. Freaking twice."
"I'm pretty sure Mer knows that Cristina, considering they're related."
"Really, Barbie? I hadn't noticed. I just don't get why you don't appreciate her greatness, Mer."
"Because she's not all that great!"
"Dude, two Harper Avery wards makes you pretty freaking awesome. She's a surgical God, for crying out loud."
"Goddess, Alex. And there's more to being awesome than being a good surgeon."
"Thank you, Izzie."
"Whatever, Doctor Model - "
"FOOLS!" Bailey yells, and you immediately stop bickering and fall silent, looking sheepish and contrite when you notice that Bailey actually had to pause the tape to reprimand you.
"Sorry Doctor Bailey," you chorus, fidgeting under her glare.
"We are here to try and save a patient, a patient who is in a critical condition, who has come to us for the utmost level of care, and she is damn well gonna receive it, even if that means you suck ups waiting on her hand and foot until she's fully recovered! We are not here to discuss the merits and demerits of Doctor Ellis Grey, we are here to observe her surgery and how she is helping her patient so we can learn from her and try to save our patient, so shut the heck up and do your jobs!"
"Yes Doctor Bailey."
She still looks very Nazi like, and you can feel Alex sniggering from where he's perched on the arm of your chair, and Derek is still looking at you, but Bailey presses play and you keep watching.
Only four more hours to go, you think, and look at your tequila wistfully once more.
;;
Another hour in, and you start to feel a little sick, because you've watched this tape before (you've watched them all before, hundreds of times over, desperately hoping to be even half the surgeon your mother was someday) and you know what's going to happen in a few minutes. It makes your heart start creeping up your throat, beating hollowly somewhere behind your esophogus, choking your words a little when you open your mouth to speak.
"Doctor Bailey," you address, because even though the Chief's here it's really her that's in charge, and you swallow when she casts you a glance, still heavily absorbed in the surgery. "I've watched this tape over and over again -I saw it yesterday, even, when I was trying to find the right one in preparation for today - and we don't really need to watch the next few minutes, I mean, nothing happens, just more of the same, we could skip to the end - "
"Grey," Bailey barks, turning to face you and crossing her arms, raising an eyebrow dangerously. "Are we boring you?"
"No, I just - "
"Do you want to scrub in on this surgery when we do it for our patient?"
"Yes, but - "
"And when doing this surgery on our patient, Doctor Grey, would you suggest we skip several steps entirely and just sew the patient up with the surgery half done?"
"No, of course not," you sigh, colouring a little, because now your friends are looking at you weirdly, and Derek looks concerned, and the other attendings can't quite believe your audacity, and now it's going to be obvious what you were trying to do, and you sink further down in your chair, burying into Cristina's side a little.
"Well then. Shut up and watch, Grey."
You do, counting down the seconds and praying for this to be as quick and painless as possible. You close your eyes when it happens, and the voice of your mother's favourite scrub nurse, Liz Fallon, floats scratchily out of your speakers.
Doctor Grey? There's a page for you, from your husband.
You immediately stiffen, and the mood of the room shifts from slightly uncomfortable to downright tense and awkward.
Oh, for God's sake, Thatch knows I'm in surgery. Just ignore it.
It's about your daughter. Meredith.
You swear to God everybody in the room freezes at the sound of your name, and your eyes are burning a little, because your mother's indifference and resentment still hurts, even now when it's over twenty years later and she doesn't even know your name anymore.
What about her?
Your husband just brought her into the hospital. He says she has meningitis. They've put her in isolation and started her on IV meds, but she's crying and asking for you.
Your mother's hands freeze over the body cavity she's working on, and everyone in her OR stills, waiting for the breakdown you already know isn't coming. You're pretty sure it has never been this silent in your house ever, and you can't bear to look anyone in the eye, instead fixing your gaze on the backs of your hands, where - if you squint - you can still see the scars from the rash the meningitis gave you, where you scratched at it until your skin bled because there was noone there to tell you not to.
We can page Doctor Harrison to take over, Doctor Grey, he's right down the hall. You should go and be with your daughter.
But Ellis Grey never does anything she should (like stay faithful to her husband, or come home from the hospital once a month, or have an abortion) and she stays right where she is, gloved hands slick with crimson and clutching tightly to a scalpel poised over the pulmonary artery.
No, it's fine.
(It wasn't.)
Meredith will be okay.
(You weren't.)
Tell Thatcher to stay with her, and that I'll be done in a few hours.
(She wasn't, and you didn't see her until morning when the surgery was over and there was no one else left for her to prioritise over you.)
The OR springs back into life, Ellis calmly ordering interns and scrubs nurses around, but everything around you is still frozen, and no one will look at you - not even Derek, who hasn't stopped staring since he walked through your front door, looking so achingly familiar leaning against the wall in your hallway your breath had caught in your throat briefly.
You cough, and try a smile, though no one will see it or hear it in your voice. "I told you she wasn't that awesome."
;;
The tape finishes a little under three hours later, and no one has spoken a word in the last one hundred and seventy two minutes - you'd been counting in your head, willing the seconds to go faster so that you could kick everyone out just to stop feeling the pity practically leaking out of their pores, burning fire bright in their eyes - and this is quite possibly the most awkward situation you have ever been in.
(Including when your mother came home from the hospital unexpectedly one night and found you in bed with some nameless boy you'd dragged upstairs during your own house party.
And that was pretty darn awkward.)
It's so awkward, in fact, that you're almost one hundred percent positive it can't possibly get any more awkward, which is a small comfort, you suppose.
Or supposed, until Cristina opened her mouth and said:
"How badly do you want a drink right now?"
You glare at her furiously, because seriously, your mother had already effectively humiliated you in front of all your superiors and friends, and this really didn't need to be anymore embarrassing than it already was; but Cristina is Cristina, and you love her, and you can tell this is her way of trying to apologise for what she said about your mother earlier, and her eyebrows are raised rather comically and a small smirk is twisting her mouth, so you roll your eyes and grin back, because maybe a little levity will help.
"D'you think Joe's is open at eleven thirty on a Wednesday morning?"
"I'm sure he could be persuaded with the right incentives."
"Dude, there's more alcohol in this place than the entirety of Russia. Crack open your liqour cabinet and start repressing."
"Alex! We're supposed to be trying to dissuade Mer from attempting to solve all her problems by drinking until she passes out and sleeping with strangers in bars."
"IZZIE!"
Cristina and Alex let out barks of laughter as Izzie looks appropriately contrite, her "sorry, Mer" doing fuck all to alleviate the colour in your cheeks as Derek's facial expression turns livid and the Chief coughs uncomfortably, and if you hadn't sworn by that whole 'First, do no harm' bullshit, you'd be impaling Izzie on the nearest sharp object right about now.
Cristina's eyes are watering, and you're a little surprised she hasn't bust a gut from laughing too hard. "God, Mer, you're such a slut."
"She is not!"
"Thank you, George!"
"Whatever Bambi, you'll be all for it when she runs out of guys to pick up in Joe's and turns to you for a happy."
"Oh dear God, kill me now."
"You should screw Evil Spawn, the syph should finish you off."
"HEY! O'Malley is the one with the syphilis!"
"Not anymore! And you gave it to me in the first place, Alex - "
"Dude! Stop making it sound so gay!"
"You're the one who was all, 'Oh, I'm down with the rainbows' - "
"I was trying to be supportive of your lifestyle choices, O'Malley!"
"I'M NOT GAY!"
"Having a hard-on for Grey doesn't make you straight, Bambi, freaking George Michael would do her - "
"GUYS!"
Finally, mercifully, they stop talking and turn to look at you expectantly. "Could you just shut up? You are REALLY not helping!"
To their credit, your friends look incredibly apologetic as they realise that their attendings and the Chief of Surgery just witnessed them (somewhat reasonably) labelling you a whore with an alcohol problem.
They open their mouths simultaneously, presumably to offer what better be their sincerest apologies and proposals on how to build a fully functioning time machine so you can go back and erase the last few minutes of your life entirely, when Doctor Bailey cuts them off.
"Grey," she calls, and when you grudgingly turn to look at her you can't quite meet her eyes, because Bailey is probably the person you respect most in the whole damn hospital, the world even, and now she knows what a dark and twisty slutty intern you are.
"Sorry I yelled at you before," she blurts, looking somewhat uncomfortable and sounding sympathetic but not pitying, and you allow your gaze to meet hers and offer what you think resembles a rather painful grimace and a polite 'it's fine, Doctor Bailey.'
That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, because her eyes harden and she looks inordinately pissed off at you.
"No, Grey, it is not fine," Bailey snaps, glaring in that way she has that makes you curse the Gods for not giving you the power of invisibility. "I know that you're a good surgeon, and you care about your patients, and you wouldn't have asked to skip that tape ahead unless there was a damn good reason to. And now all these fools," she rolls her eyes at the rest of the attendings, who begin to sputter in indignation, "know something you didn't want them to and won't look you in the eye. I should have listened, and I'm sorry I didn't." Her voice softens unexpectedly, as does her face. "I just - well, I didn't think your mother would be so…"
You nod, because you get it, and it's really not Bailey's fault. "Yeah. Me either."
"She really was a bitch, huh?" Addison says with a smile, and you raise an eyebrow at the obscenity, because you've never heard Addison swear before; she just winks at you, and you laugh, because if Addison freaking Montgomery-Shepherd - your ex-boyfriend's wife - is being nice and understanding and bad mouthing your mother, then you suppose you can show her some cordiality, too.
The Chief clears his throat, and dread pools in your stomach as you remember that whole 'shady past' business you haven't quite managed to figure out yet. "I was working that day, when Thatcher brought you in," he begins, steepling his fingers together and shifting in his chair.
You nod, because you remember; Richard made funny faces at you through the glass window of the quarantine room and told you stories about turtles whilst Ellis took care of someone else's child and your father was off being useless.
"I ran into Ellis after she finished this surgery," he says, gesturing to the static on the TV screen, the tape still running, "and for what it's worth, she was distraught. She was worried sick about you."
The 'she had a funny way of showing it' is implied by your facial expression, so you stay silent.
Richard senses your disbelief, and continues, "I'm serious. But Ellis - well, you know better than anyone that motherhood didn't exactly come easily to her." You snort loudly at this, because that's the understatement of the fucking century. The Chief smiles slightly in acknowledgement, before fixing a grave look on his ageing face once more. "But she cared about you, Meredith, and while she wasn't there herself when you were sick, she had nurses and doctors and even the Chief checking up on you every other minute to make sure you were okay."
You sigh, because that's all very well and good, but she wasn't there for you - - she was never there for you, not when you got meningitis when you were three, or had your tonsils out four years later, or even when you broke your leg in three places when your horse freaked at the sight of a car and threw you off before trampling over you in an attempt to flee.
But no one else knows these things, and they never need to, and you are already beyond embarrassed at this point, so you smile even as salt pricks at your eyes and reply, "Thanks, Chief."
Everyone in the room thinks you're being sincere except Cristina and Derek, the latter of which is still scalding you with smoldering looks, so you clap your hands together with fake enthusiasm and announce, "So. What do you think we should about our patient?"
Addison and Burke are a few minutes into a heated debate about heart stability in both mother and baby when the television screen flickers into life again, and some painfully familiar dialogue and canned laughter assaults your ears.
No. Freaking. Way.
Cristina is outraged. "Meredith! You recorded over one of your mother's surgery tapes? With Friends? Seriously?"
You snap your mouth closed and defend yourself. "What? No! I wouldn't know how to begin to do that," because you are the most technologically inept person you know, it's embarrassing really, "mom must have done it."
Izzie frowns, looking throughly confused. "Why would your mom record an episode of Friends, Mer? It doesn't exactly strike me as her idea of entertainment."
Impossibly, that makes you grin, because it really isn't your mother's idea of entertainment, and you honestly cannot believe that she recorded this episode on the same tape as one of her surgeries - on a tape where she fails yet again at being a mother in a way that you never really forgave her for, because you could have died, for God's sake - and only Ellis Grey would be this symbolic and roundabout in trying to rectify her mistakes. Your mother had never talked about it with you, and you weren't entirely sure whether she'd even seen the episode or not; if she had, you'd been willing to bet she would have ranted and raved at you about how unimportant and trivial it was, how ordinary, how disappointed she was that you had pursued something so trite and unfulfilling.
Instead, it was something she wanted to remember, and that - well. All you have ever really wanted is to make your mother proud.
All your colleagues are looking at you weirdly, and your smile only grows wider. "That's not why she recorded it."
Your total lack of clarification about what's going on seems to be annoying Bailey to an immense degree, and she snaps, "What the hell are you talking about, Grey?"
You are too busy focusing on Chandler and Ross bantering back and forth at their high school reunion to pay anybody any attention, so you miss the look on Burke's face when realisation dawns on him, but you can hear the disbelief in his voice all the same.
"Oh my God," he yelps suddenly, and then everyone is looking at him for a change, and no one is looking at the screen. "Oh my God! How did I never notice this before?" He's mostly talking to himself, but his eyes are fixed on you, so you grin at him and shrug a shoulder, because really, you are kind of surprised that no one has called you on it yet.
"Notice what?" Derek asks, looking thoroughly annoyed that Burke knows something about you that he doesn't, and it makes you feel more than a little smug.
"Yeah, what's going on?"
"Wait, isn't this 'The One Where the Stripper Cries'?"
"Hey, I LOVE this episode, it's so - OH MY GOD! Seriously?"
"What?"
"Mer, why didn't you tell us?"
"Izzie, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You didn't notice either, Stevens?"
"No, I never connected the dots until just now!"
"Connected what dots?"
Addison's eyes widen as she cottons on. "Holy crap, Grey!"
"Addie, what is it?" Derek looks like he's about to explode with frustration, and everyone bar Izzie, Addison and Burke aren't faring much better. "Would one of you just tell us what's going - "
Hey guys.
They all freeze, because you may have lost your Bostonian accent a little since moving to Seattle, but there's no mistaking that voice for anyone's but yours.
Their heads snap around to look at the TV screen just in time to see a twenty-something year old you turn to face Ross and Chandler as they battle for your attention.
Our band is playing on Friday.
You should come check us out. We're called 'Way, No Way.'
No way.
Way!
Great. I'll be there.
Their mouths are all hanging open in shock, and you can't help but fall about laughing at how you've floored them all so effectively.
George breaks the silence. "YOU'RE Missy Goldberg? Seriously?"
"The one and only."
"OH MY GOD!"
"You were in Friends?"
"I didn't know you could act!"
"This is unbelievable!"
"Did you get to meet Jennifer Aniston?"
"Yeah, do you have all their phone numbers? You HAVE to give me David's, I'm like, in LOVE with him - "
"Dude, I will pay you to set me up with one of the chicks."
"This is so cool - we know someone famous!"
You shake your head at them all, chuckling. "I'm hardly famous, George. I've never done any other acting work, and none of you even twigged it was me until just now. And you all actually know me."
"This is just - wow."
"I mean, seriously."
"How come you never did any more acting?"
You bite your lip to not burst out laughing at the gobsmacked look on Addison's face, but you're pretty sure she can hear the mockery in your reply. "It wasn't something I took seriously, and with med school, I didn't have the time. I only auditioned for a dare - my roommate thought it'd be funny."
"And instead, you ended up famous."
"Seriously."
"Come on, guys, it's not that big a deal. The big deal is that Ellis 'the-only-thing-I-care-about-is-the-hospital' Grey recorded over her own surgery tape to catch it on video."
Richard smiles at you, looking smug and self-assured. "I told you she cared."
This time, your smile is genuine, because maybe that is true after all.
Everyone is quiet a while as you reflect on this, until one of Missy Goldberg's lines catches Cristina's attention.
Chandler and I used to make out. A lot.
Your person looks thoughtfully at you for a moment before breaking into a shit-eating grin.
"What?"
"Spill it, Mer."
"What are you talking about?"
"Which one of them did you screw?"
"Excuse me?"
"Yang's got a point, Grey."
"No she doesn't! What makes you think I slept with any of them?"
Your friends just stare at you with raised eyebrows.
"Fuck you," you glare, because you're not that slutty.
"Grey! Language, please!"
"Sorry Doctor Bailey."
"Come on, Mer," Cristina urges, nudging you with her elbow. "Was it Schwimmer? He's got that whole gelled hair thing going on, which seems to be a turn on for you."
"Cristina!"
"Hey!" Derek glares at her indignantly, and you really want Cristina to shut up, because your friends already made sure he knows what a whore you are, and discussing your sex life further in front of him - plus the rest of your attendings, and Jesus, you'll never be able to look these people in the eye ever again - is making your face flame in a way that can't possibly be attractive.
"Just tell us, Grey. We'll keep it quiet."
"Doctor Montogomery-Shepherd!"
"What?" Addison doesn't seem at all fazed by how inappropriate this is, and you're pretty sure your jaw is somewhere by your kneecaps. "I'm just curious, is all."
"Exactly!" Cristina watches your face intently, scouring for any indication that she's on the right track. "Matthew Perry, then?" she prods, refusing to let it go despite how blatantly you are pleading her to with your eyes. "Le Blanc?"
Alex smirks from beside you, looking thoroughly delighted. "My money's on Aniston. I'd totally tap that."
You absolutely hate hate hate Alex, and feel like dying on the spot as your face burns that little bit brighter and Cristina practically jumps out of her seat and accuses, "Oh my God! You had sex with Jennifer Aniston!"
You are a terrible liar, and your protestations and vehement denials are cut off by Alex's gleeful laughter and exclamation of "Dude, you seriously did? I was kidding!"
You let your head fall into your hands as your friends explode in laughter around you, praying now more than ever that you will wake up tomorrow and this will all have been a dream.
"Since when are you a lesbian?"
"Yeah, Ellen, I never would have pegged you for a rug muncher."
"Alex, that's disgusting!"
"It's hot, is what it is."
"George!"
"Sorry, but you, and Jennifer Aniston, having sex…"
"STOP PICTURING IT!"
"Dude, I am never letting go of this visual."
"Oh my God."
"Relax, Grey, we're all friends here."
"Really Addison? You wanna talk about your sex life in front of all your friends and colleagues? Go ahead!"
"Grey, you do NOT speak to an attending like that!"
"But Doctor Bailey - "
"But nothing! All of you shut up about it."
"It is a little weird that we have spent more of the day discussing Meredith's sexual partners than we have our patient."
"Well said, Doctor Burke!"
"I still can't believe you had sex with a chick."
"Karev, I thought I told you to drop it!"
Cristina smirks at you like you're a bloody and difficult and awesome cardio surgery, and teases, "Do I have to be worried about you molesting me whenever we share a bed?"
"Alright, that's enough!" you yell, launching yourself out of your chair. "Yes, I was in an episode of Friends, and yeah, while I was filming it me and Jen got drunk in her trailer and had sex, and it was technically kind of adulterous because I'm pretty sure her divorce wasn't entirely finalised, so yes I'm a big whore, but not a lesbian, because it was a one-off, sort of, or there have been more men than women at any rate, but will you please just shut up about it? We're supposed to be trying to save our patient, remember, the woman in actual mortal danger who needs lifesaving surgery? So how about we focus on that, instead of dissecting my sex life and humiliating me in front of my peers!"
You finish your ranting to find a room full of contrite faces that look mostly apologetic - besides Derek's, which looks mightily pissed off but at this point you're just too angry to care - and a silence that sounds sweeter than any you've ever heard.
With the matter effectively closed, you pick up your copy of the patient's file and begin to deliberately peruse it, glaring pointedly around your living room until everyone else follows suit; a discussion erupts once more about surgical priorities and which areas to tackle first, and you're just beginning to calm down when there is a lull in the conversation as you all scan the labs to check your patient's bloodwork.
There's a beat of silence. Then -
"Was she good?"
You really hate Alex.
…not that retarded, right?