Author's Note: The second piece I wrote for Grey's Exchange on Livejournal! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy, its characters, and all that good stuff belongs to ABC Studios, Shonda Rhimes, and lots of people who, unfortunately, are not me.
"The next seven years will be the best and worst of your life…"
Meredith awoke with a sharp intake of breath. She didn't flail wildly about, trying to find out where she was. No, she lay still, listening to the pounding of her heart that seemed to shake her whole body back and forth in rhythm.
Of course, she wasn't really moving. She knew this. She was a doctor. She was in Seattle Grace, lying horizontal in a hallway.
This fact discovered, she lifted herself into a sitting position quietly. The stretcher, steady and wiry under her, didn't make a sound. And all of a sudden, the thoughts came—the last twenty-four hours, the hell she'd been through, her screaming as she realized that those were his scorched, blistered fingers on her hand…
No.
The hallway was strangely empty and quiet as Meredith stepped onto the floor. How long had she been sleeping? Was anyone here? She knew the answer to that question, knew that the hospital was swarming with people, but somehow they'd found a way to give her a few moments of unconscious peace.
Meredith found the water fountain and leaned over it, watching the clear ribbon run in a perfect arc for a few seconds before she leaned down and took a sip. Relieved that she could taste the water in her sore mouth, feel the relief sliding against her raw throat, she straightened and placed her hand on the wall. She wasn't dreaming. She was simply alone, caught in-between rushes in one of the back hospital hallways.
Meredith opened her front door to find Izzie lounging on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. She held a beer in her hand, and while there was a questionable puddle on the carpet, Meredith noted that she had, in fact, bothered to use a coaster.
"Hey," said Meredith, surprised to find her there. "Doesn't your shift start soon?"
"Three hours," replied Izzie. "I've given up trying to sleep. I'm just going to wait it out. And I'm just going to apologize for the kitchen. It's…actually, don't go in there." She shook the beer in her hand, which Meredith had been eyeing. "It's almost empty. I'll be good and sober by the time I have to leave. Where's Derek?"
"New York. It's his niece's birthday. He would have brought me…but I had work…and…"
"Where's Cristina?"
"Working, with Alex."
Izzie considered this for a moment. "You tired?"
Meredith laughed. "Never." She tossed her purse to the side and collapsed onto the couch next to Izzie. Izzie handed her a beer, which Meredith took, gratefully.
"Is it possible that you look even crappier than me?" asked Meredith.
Izzie was about to make a biting remark when they heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by "Ow! Crap!" Three seconds later, a sea of paper came flooding down the stairs.
Izzie turned around, concerned. "George?" asked Meredith, who hadn't bothered to move. "Pick that up, would you?" Never mind that she'd spent two hours organizing everyone's bills into separate stacks.
George hastily stuffed the pile of papers back onto the stairs. "So…are there cookies?" he asked cheerfully, overcompensating for his faux pas.
"What?" asked Meredith, now turning around. Izzie had gotten up off the couch and was lifting the ankles of George's pajama pants, looking for broken bones.
"I was sleeping…and I smelled chocolate, and I remembered that Izzie was home tonight and that if she was baking, she probably wasn't sleeping like she was supposed to, so I was coming down here to tell her to stop, except there was a pile of papers on the steps, and I was coming down in my socks, and I forgot that…Izzie would you stop doing that?"
Izzie jumped away from George's legs, pouting. "You almost killed yourself. I'm just trying to help. I'm a doctor."
"So am I! I think I can tell if I have a broken bone!"
"Well, what about a sprain? Or a hairline fracture? George, don't walk away from me!" She followed him into the kitchen. Meredith closed her eyes for a moment before picking up her drink and following them. When she reached the kitchen, she stopped, almost running into George, who'd stopped right in front of her.
"Holy…"
Meredith's kitchen was literally covered in cupcakes—some in pans, some not in pans. They were stacked everywhere—on top of cabinets, all over table, all over the floor.
"Wow, you weren't kidding, were you?" asked Meredith, dropping to her knees at the sight of the food. Only she had to jump to her feet right after that, to avoid kneeling in a bowl of batter.
"This is the worst I've ever seen it," said George, his eyes widening. He peered down at the floor. "Do you walk on stilts, Izzie? Is that how you get through here?"
"It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal!" exclaimed George. "Look at this! You need help."
Meredith squinted at the ground. "You've blocked the liquor cabinet, Izzie."
"Little Debbie threw up in here," said George.
"Little Debbie, Betty Crocker, Aunt Jemima…" Meredith ticked them off on her fingers.
"Aunt Jemima's a syrup," said George. Meredith pointed to the lone stack of pancakes on top of the toaster. Izzie covered her face with her hands.
"Okay," said Meredith, after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to back out of the kitchen—put down the rolling pin, Izzie—and we're going to pretend this never happened."
"Oh, yeah, because that's going to work!" exclaimed Izzie, almost hysterical.
"We can't stay here tonight!" said George, eyes wide. "It smells like Willy Wonka's freaking chocolate factory!"
"It's two in the morning," said Meredith drily. "What do you suggest we do? Sleep on the lawn?"
Ten minutes later, three mattresses sit in a row beside Meredith's driveway.
"This is surprisingly good idea," said George. "Look, there's Orion's belt, and the Big Dipper, and…" He trailed off to find Izzie and Meredith looking at him. "Hey, I was a Boy Scout." Izzie sniggered. "Don't diss the Boy Scouts!"
"Wouldn't dream of it," said Meredith, trying hard to keep a straight face.
"Screw you," huffed George, getting up and running toward the house.
Izzie's eyes widened. "He can't go back in there!" She cupped her hands over her mouth. "George, don't go back in there! It's dangerous!"
She was answered with a war cry, and next thing she knew, Meredith was on her feet and scrambling across the driveway, as George charged toward them with the hose.
"You wouldn't," said Izzie, narrowing her eyes.
She was answered by a spray of cold water in her face. Immediately, she was on her feet, running toward the water blindly, blinking as she tried her best to tackle the figure holding the water. Meanwhile, Meredith was clinging to George piggyback-style, screaming as her tiny drenched body tried to hold on. Around them, the Seattle breeze was moist and cool, causing all three of them to shiver if they remained still for too long. They kept at that game until dawn, when Izzie grabbed the keys from Meredith's back pocket, screaming that she was going to be late. George sprayed the Jeep down with water even as Izzie was driving away, soaked and without her purse.
By then, Meredith had had the good sense to find the water and turn it off before any of her neighbors would realize it was her house that had been keeping everyone up since four in the morning and before she could get sick. She was too late on the second account, of course, and for the next two weeks, Derek brought her chicken noodle soup in a thermos while Izzie and George lingered somewhere over his shoulder in the distance, daring her to tell. She always slipped them some of the soup later, pouring it into coffee cups and leaving it on the benches outside their lockers.
They never told. It felt good to keep a secret like this. They'd kept secrets before—long before Denny or Callie or Addison or marriage proposals. Even then, they'd known that it was going to be one of the last times they were together…though none of them fathomed something like this.
She reached the newborn babies and smiled—a half smile that hurt when she realized she'd been frowning all this time. There were two near the front—a boy and a girl, twins. It was obvious, even without looking at their tags.
"Meredith."
She wasn't paying enough attention to know the voice, though she knew that she'd heard it before. She took one last look at the two babies, looking at each other through the sides of their plastic cribs, before she turned around.
This ending was where they all began.
Review if you liked it, review if you hated it, review if you have absolutely no opinion! Just say hi or something. :P And thanks so much for reading!