Legal Mumbo-Jumbo: 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 wouldn't have to squint to have Derek in bed with me. The origin of this fic is that I don't think that the writers of Grey's understand the match.
Hat tip to samsolace for helping me upload this. And her husband. And if you haven't read every word she has written, you are missing out on some of the most awesome Mer/Der out there. Seriously. Go read it. Now. Don't waste your time on this.
If you are still reading, then you should know that this story begins the spring before our interns start at Seattle Grace. Which means they are finishing up medical school and trying to figure out where they will be come July. Match information is as accurate as I could figure from the National Match Database.
The Match
It can make you or break you. It's a placement procedure like no other; it's not a job interview, it's not an application to college or grad school. It means ranking a list of the residency programs you would accept and filling out the applications. And the programs rank the graduating medical school students they will accept. Both sets of rankings are turned over to the computer. What the computer says, goes. By participating in The Match, you are obligated by the results. The computer makes The Match. But if you don't get a match, you have to scramble.
Scrambling is for losers.
Forget basketball. In your final year of medical school, March Madness means only one thing: The Match. Meredith had filled out application after application to resident programs, with only one thing on her mind: Stay Out Of Seattle. She wanted nothing to do with the city, the ferryboats or Seattle Grace Hospital. Her ranking list was complete and added to the system weeks ahead of schedule. Now it was time for the programs to decide which students they wanted as interns, and soon the computers would put the two lists together. Maybe it wasn't the best system, but it was the system in place. Meredith knew that by March 15, she'd be told whether she would be starting her medical career in Manhattan, North Carolina or Chicago. Far away from Seattle, and far away from her mother. She just had to get through lunch today, and whatever news her mother had for her.
She entered the restaurant and looked around for Ellis, finally spotting her in the back booth. Her mother sat calmly at the table, staring in concentration at nothing. She didn't look up when Meredith approached. Every time she had seen her mother during her time in med school, Ellis had been preoccupied. Not paying attention. She didn't remember this from when she was younger, but assumed that it was because children don't like to think of their parents as worried.
"Hi, mom," she said, "I'm here."
Ellis seemed to pause before looking up. "It's me, Meredith." Great start there, Grey. 'Cause your mom has so many people who would wander in here and call her mom." But for a second, when Ellis had looked up, she seemed to see not her only child, but a stranger.
"Meredith. I'm glad you are here. I have several things I need to discuss with you, and I hope that you will cooperate with what I'm asking."
"What you're asking? Mom, is everything okay?" Ellis had never asked Meredith for anything before. Oh, she'd asked for different behavior, different priorities and maybe for a different daughter altogether, but never for something for Ellis. And Meredith wasn't prepared to give her mother anything.
"Meredith, we can talk later." Ellis and Meredith made their selections from the menu, and when the waiter brought them their food, made sure they were happy and walked away from the table, Ellis decided it was time to talk.
"You and I have not discussed which residency programs you have applied for and ranked in the match. Are you considering a move to Seattle?" Ellis's eyes met Meredith's. In any other circumstance, this question would be a flash-point, the kindling to spark a fight, but whatever was coming, Meredith could tell: it was costing her mother something to ask.
"No, mom. I've applied to hospitals in North Carolina—Duke University hospital and a couple in Charlotte. I've applied to Mt. Sinai and Cornell's program at New York Hospital. And Northwestern Medical, Chicago Hope and if I don't make a surgical program, I have County General in Chicago as well. Their trauma program is one of the best."
"So, no Seattle." Ellis's eyes clouded over, and she looked down and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, she looked back to her daughter. "Meredith, I know your memories of Seattle are mixed, at best. But I'd like you to add hospitals there to your ranking, before the deadline."
Other than discouraging Meredith's ambitions, Ellis had never shown this kind of interest in her career choices. Why now?
"Why, Mom?"
Again, Ellis drew a breath deep. Again, she let it out.
"Because I'm going to be in Seattle. And I need someone there I can trust."
Well. This is. . .interesting. I never thought that Mom would be going back to Seattle. The memories there are painful for her as well. Sure, she's got the house, but still. . .
"Where will you be, Mom? Because honestly, I don't think it's in our best interest to be in the same hospital."
"That's not a concern." Ellis bent down, and shuffled through a few papers in her briefcase. "Here's where I'll be." A glossy pamphlet skidded across the table, stopping when it hit the condensation from Meredith's water.
Rose Ridge Extended Care Home. What?
"What? Mom?" Meredith gave a slight shake of her head. "This isn't a. . .I mean. . .there isn't much surgery. . .Mom?"
Ellis's mouth was a frieze of angry determination. "I have had the diagnosis for a while. I've had consult after consult. I've been gradually cutting back on all of my duties, and my slate is now clear. There is no surgery in my future. I'm done practicing medicine. By tonight I may not remember this conversation, but for now I have an assistant to remind me. As soon as he gets me to Seattle, he's going to be looking for another job."
"Diagnosis. . ."
"Oh, Meredith, stop being so obtuse. Alzheimers. For me, Early Onset. You know that's what killed my mother, although hers didn't start until much later."
Meredith didn't know. She calculated her mother's age, and compared it to her own. Thirty years. Thirty years left before. . .unless it came earlier for her. If it came later, she could have longer. Or could she escape being her mother in this detail? Could it not come for her?
"So, you want me to take you to Seattle and put you in this. . .place thingie."
A wrinkle appeared between her mother's brows. "Surgeons don't say thingie, Meredith. Yes, I would like for you to at least apply for positions in Seattle so that I may return there to die and have the pleasure of your company as I go. Are you sure that your calling isn't dermatology?"
A nervous biting of the lip, and Meredith had made her decision. "Yes, Mommy." If she agreed, there would be some last minute applications, probably all-nighters pulled. She mentally flipped through the list of Seattle hospitals. Mercy West had produced some great cardiac surgeons, Dr. Erica Hahn had come and lectured once for a packed auditorium. Cardiomyopathy and the Effects of Dopamine on Recipients of Donor Hearts or some sexy title like that. Seattle Pres. . .they had a residency program. She didn't know much about it. "But I don't want to go to Grace."
"Meredith, don't be foolish. Don't make a decision like this based on some resentment you have from before you were five. Seattle Grace is the most prestigious surgical residency on the west coast." Ellis's right eyebrow tilted in that "my daughter has no sense" angle that Meredith remembered well from adolescence. "In fact, the new chief of surgery, Richard Webber—you remember Richard, yes?—and I have already discussed. . .or rather, his nurse, Patricia and I talked, well, not specifically, since that would violate the conditions of the match. But he knows you are in the match this year. And that you would like to be in Seattle."
"Really, Mom. Thanks. Could you think that maybe I didn't want to get in anywhere except on my qualifications? That I didn't want my last name to get me in anywhere? I wanted to do it myself? Did you think about that? And telling her I want to be in Seattle?" Meredith's voice had started calmly, but had risen in pitch and intensity until other people in the restaurant started to suspend their own conversations and pay attention to the two honey blonde women.
Now it was Meredith's turn to breathe deep calming air before continuing the conversation. "So. Rose Ridge. And you have taken care of the details of your move. So you want me to show up in July and what?"
"I'm transferring the house into your name, so that won't be a problem. You can do what you want; sell it, live in it, continue to rent it out to residents in the Seattle Grace program. You'll need to be prepared to take on some of the decisions regarding my care, but forgive me if I ask that you not do that too soon. I'd rather not be aware when that happens.
"Rose Ridge has agreed that under no conditions will they release my diagnosis to the media. I want you to promise me, no matter whether you are in Seattle or Charlotte or Manhattan or Lima, Peru that you will not embarrass me by disclosing it either. "
Meredith closed her eyes for a moment. Her mother's life was ending. And what was Ellis worried about? Other people knowing.
"Mom. Why do you want me to be in Seattle? I could do all of that from anywhere."
Ellis looked to the side, to the floor and then up to the ceiling. Anywhere but Meredith's face. She thought of her past, of her husband, her lover, her friends, her colleagues. There was no one else she wanted to trust. There was no one else she could trust. For her, any chance for intimacy was gone.
"Visit me, Meredith. Visit me so I won't die alone."