Man how in the hell did we get here…
Call up your brothers and sisters and friends
We'll go back to the place where the night never ends
They thought maybe Joe's. Joe's would be a good place to remember. After all, it was where they went when all they wanted to remember was that they drank to forget.
Still, it didn't feel right. Like there was a 'right' way to do it. Still, whatever the right way was, wherever the right place was, it wasn't Joe's.
There was always Meredith's, but it wasn't the same. That was kind of the point, but still. Besides, it was Derek and Meredith's home now. It wasn't the "frat house" anymore, there were no more awkward interludes in the bathroom, and there were no more condoms in the cookie jar.
So Meredith's house didn't fit the bill. The memories would always be there, but there were new ones to be made now, with no room for old ghosts.
One day, it came to them. In the busy hospital cafeteria in the midst of cramming sandwiches down their throats in their haste to get to the pit, to the clinic, and to the OR, respectively, it hit the three of them at once. Blue eyes met green eyes met brown eyes, and though none of them said a word, they all knew the answer. Unspoken agreement made, they turned back to their lunches, determined to let the matter rest until...well, until the day came. For now they had the pit, the clinic, and the OR, and now was not the time to think about how glaringly obvious the answer had turned out to be, almost as obvious as the two empty chairs at the lunch table were every day that they sat here as a group of three.
Don't believe everything happiness says
Nothing feels better than hiding these days
Whether it was a happy coincidence or, more likely, a decree from Bailey, whose 'children' they would always be and who somehow knew about their still unspoken plan, the three had off for that weekend. Everyone expected them to protest. Alex, because he needed the extra shifts to pay for insurance bills, Meredith, because she was still trying to make up for the time she had lost being bedridden and away from the OR, and Cristina because...well, she was Cristina, and she regarded any time not spent in the OR as a moment wasted. Everyone was wrong, however, as the three surgeons nodded complacently. It would have been easier to work, to work on people they could fix, to heal what they couldn't of themselves, but nothing about this was meant to be easy.
So Alex went back to the trailer, the damned trailer he would just have soon seen crashing over a cliff, maybe with him inside, and grabbed a bottle of Jack. He looked around at the empty trailer, only his clothes littering the foot of the slab of a bed that were haphazardly covered with sheets that smelled like her and stale beer in the refrigerator. He didn't bother staying, and headed back to the hospital to get a head start. The girls wouldn't be there for another couple of hours, so he would be free to wallow in memories alone for a bit. And maybe get a head start on the Jack.
Meredith went home to where a concerned Derek stroked her face and asked her if he could help, if she could let him know where she was going to be, if maybe it would be better if they...
"No."
With that Meredith proceeded to snag three shotglasses from the bar in the kitchen and a bottle of Jose from the cupboard before wrapping an arm around Derek and pulling him close.
"I'm sorry. We need to do this." She kissed him, willing him to understand.
Derek nodded sadly, because 'we' did not include him and gave her a kiss back, not nearly as deep or reassuring as he wanted it to be. She released him, and walked out of the room purposefully, the door slamming behind her the only sound in the silent house.
Cristina had dragged Owen back to her apartment, where she had all but ripped off his clothes and impaled herself on him, her body begging for what she couldn't verbalize. Now, she sank back onto the bed, her limbs hopelessly twisted in the sheets as she inhaled deeply, willing the warmth of Owen's hands on her waist and the bliss of her powerful orgasm to cradle her for just a little longer. Too soon, though, it faded, and though it was warm here, comfortable, solid and real, she dragged herself reluctantly from Owen's arms to dress, and he watched quietly as she raided the liquor cabinet for the bottle of Absolut she had bought last week. He walked her out, and to the doors of the hospital where she stopped in front, reluctantly.
"I have to go."
Owen didn't ask questions or let the concern show on his face and nodded, brushing the curls that had escaped from her ponytail from her face. She kissed him fiercely, not wanting to walk away just yet, but she had to leave and slowly she made her way inside and all she could do was cling to the bottle as a substitute for something solid and real.
We bury our fears in the drinks, in these tears
For the days we believed we could fly
They sat there in their light blue scrubs, the three of them sitting on the gurney the tunnel as empty as it ever had been.
It seemed quieter, somehow.
The clink of shotglasses was the only sound as Meredith passed them to Alex and Cristina. Alex looked at the glass with a scoff, as his Jack was already opened and a swallow or two or three missing, but it was Meredith, and her green eyes were glassy, and he took it from her without further comment. Cristina held the glass without seeing it, and stared straight ahead.
For a moment, none of them moved. Now that they were here, on the day, in the right place, none of them knew what they were supposed to do.
Alex, having pregamed with the intent that it would make the whole fucking thing easier, decided he would take it upon himself to pour the first shot. He filled Meredith's and Cristina's with their liquor of choice.
"So what are we drinking to?" His voice was scratchy, as if he hadn't used it in awhile, as if he had almost forgotten how to speak.
Cristina looked at Meredith. She wasn't good at this type of thing. Maybe with a few shots in her. But for now she would drink and let the other do this. Whatever this was.
"To missing friends." Meredith raised her glass, and the other two joined her, their glasses clinking together and the first shot poured down their throats, Cristina and Meredith's a welcome burning and Alex's a comforting heat. They sat in silence for awhile, until Alex spoke up.
"Izzie didn't die."
Meredith and Cristina said nothing, just pierced him with silent gazes.
"She didn't die. She left." Alex's voice was pained in spite of himself.
"I know." Meredith's tone was gentle, trying her best to get through to him. He either didn't appreciate the effort or was too caught up in his own pain to hear her.
"Left me here to mourn her and she didn't even die." Alex clenched his fist around his glass, pressed his back against the wall, and looked out into space, refusing to meet their eyes, daring them to contradict him.
"No, she didn't die." Meredith tried to place a hand over his, but he slipped it away. She kept talking anyway, more to herself now than to Alex. "She just never recovered. From the cancer, from George..." She swallowed. "It's like we lost them both." Meredith leaned her head back so that it hit the wall behind them and winced slightly, though not from the pain in her head. "I can't believe it's been a year..."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" The harsh words were underscored by Alex's emotionless tone. "A year ago, O'Malley got hit by a bus. A year ago, we saved Izzie's life. And she couldn't be bothered to stick around..." He pressed his lips together and he mirrored Meredith's stance, dropping his head back against the wall. His voice was a dull murmur. "Whatever." He took another brief swig from his bottle, the shot glass forgotten at his side.
Meredith's gaze slid to Cristina, who still wouldn't look at either of them or join in the admittedly depressing conversation, willing her to say something. Cristina didn't disappoint.
"So, who needs another shot?"
And we'll never get back what we gave away
When we still have that fire in our eyes
"...And remember, that time..." Meredith leaned over and nearly fell off of the gurney, only Cristina's leg preventing her from falling. "You remember Crist..." Meredith did actually fall this time, though since Cristina was lying on her back, there was little she could do to help.
"Nope. Don't remember." Cristina clung to her bottle of vodka, watching the blurry ceiling closing in on her. She waited a beat for her person to respond. "Mere?"
"I'm okay." Meredith's voice was small and muffled from her prone position on the floor. "I'm just gonna stay here for awhile...The floor's nice and cold..."
Cristina groaned, an arm slinging over her face. They had been here for almost a full day, if not longer, and they were drunk, tired and emotional, and now they were falling over. Alex had stumbled to the bathroom just around the corner a few minutes ago. Maybe he could pick her up on his way back.
Judging by the sounds of shuffling, and the subsequent thud as Alex joined Meredith on the floor, that hope was a futile one, but Cristina didn't really care, because the world was spinning as she lay on her back, trying to remember what it was like to be anchored to something and stilled.
"What don't I remember?"
"About what?" Meredith sounded sleepy.
"About the thing. You said a thing. A remembering thing. About a thing."
"Oh yeah." Meredith attempted to raise up off the floor to answer but thought better of it and gingerly propped herself up on a shaky elbow. "The contest. Hot dogs."
Cristina groaned and tried to swallow back her stomach's offended protests. "Food? Seriously?"
"Why do we not say that anymore?" Meredith asked no one.
"I should have won." Alex's muttering roused Cristina's competitive spirit.
"You wish you could have, Evil Spawn. I kicked your and Bambi's asses that day."
"Yeah, but I got the solo surgery." It was apropos of nothing, but Alex never turned down an opportunity to rub Cristina's face in his victory.
"That I chose you for. Because I won it." Cristina's slurred words were punctuated by a swig of vodka, directly from the bottle since the shot glasses had been lost a few hours back. "I win all the contests."
"I won sparkle pager." Meredith didn't sound like she was following too well, but the attempt was all she could muster as she leaned her head on her arm. "Sparkly..."
Cristina scoffed, the sting of that particular loss still fresh. "Yeah. But one of these days the sparkle pager goes to one of our moron interns. Residents. Whatever the fuck."
"Don't say that. Mine. My sparkle pager. That sucks." Meredith buried her face in her arm.
"Annoying twins." Alex leaned against the gurney from his position on the floor. "How did I end up stuck with two of you again?"
"Because George died and Izzie is gone and because you can't find anyone better than us." Cristina's voice was laced with a strange bitterness that made her statement less harsh and sadder than it was meant.
"You both found men better than me." Alex mumbled. "Better than Izzie thought I was."
The silence hung in the air. It was Cristina's turn in their game, time for her to shoot back some smart-ass retort and keep the banter going, or for Meredith to intercede with something sympathetic and something a friend would say, but Meredith had fallen asleep, her mouth open from where she lay on the floor, and Cristina wasn't talking.
Alex slumped further on the ground. What had started out as a memorial, a tribute, something to remember George by, something to remember themselves by, as five interns who had begun together but would never end together, was now threatening to overwhelm them all, drown them in grief and lost time and liquor to waste away the memories of it all.
"Do you still miss Rebecca?"
Cristina's question took Alex by surprise. "I haven't thought about her in a long time," he replied honestly.
He thought about her now, for a moment, another woman he had initially saved and yet failed to rescue in the end. He wondered briefly where she was, how old the baby would be now, but his train of thought was slow going, and eventually derailed. What good did it do to think about her? Or Izzie? They weren't here now. They didn't think about him.
"Oh." Her voice seemed to come from far away. Cristina shifted position on the gurney, her legs draping over the sides. She didn't say anything for awhile.
"You still miss Burke?" Alex remembered, a lifetime ago, sitting on this very gurney, the words they were saying reversed and a bag full of change. He expected her to shut down, for her to shut him down, tell him that it was none of his business, so he was surprised at the swiftness of her answer and the genuine tone of her voice, the closest they would ever get to an honest conversation.
"Not as much as I used to." Cristina considered for a moment. It really was the truth, and it surprised her. She never thought she would get past missing him, thinking about him, and hating herself for both, for that weakness, but even though it had taken a long time, she had gotten to a point where she could move forward and think of him only occasionally, and not with bitterness.
Alex had thought she'd fallen asleep too, she was so quiet, but then Cristina spoke up again.
"I'm drunk, and I'll deny I ever said it, and I'll probably forget I said it." Cristina peered precariously over the gurney to look at Alex. "You're a better man. And you deserve something better. Than Rebecca. Than Izzie."
He didn't thank her. It wasn't what they did and Cristina wouldn't have accepted it. They understood anyway, and took solace in it.
The moment was ruined by Meredith piping up from the floor, where a sudden thought had woken her from a sound sleep.
"Hey, remember that time when Alex gave George syphilis?"
Don't believe everything happiness says
Nothing's as real as our old reckless ways
"The exam room. Dirty mistress panty-losing prom sex. And the on-call room." Meredith sounded exhausted, but intrigued to hear the other two answer. "Where else would we do it?"
"Corner of the cafeteria." Alex sounded nonchalant even as Meredith squeaked and Cristina let out a noise of disgust.
"With who? Barbie?"
"Not Izzie. Peds chick. Just behind the sandwich bar." The smugness made Cristina roll her eyes and Alex grin. "So spill, Yang."
Cristina was silent for a minute.
"Well?" For being inebriated and tired a moment ago, Meredith had found a renewed energy and even her slurring had slightly improved. Cristina rarely talked about her sex life, even with her. Though everybody and their mother knew when she was not getting laid.
"I'm thinking." Cristina swung her legs so that she was laying on the floor with her feet propped up on the gurney. Meredith stared at her in horror.
"What do you need to think about? How many places have you had sex in this hospital that you don't know which is the most random one to have sex in?"
"I caught you and Burke in the skills lab the one time." Alex offered helpfully.
Meredith stared at Cristina. "The skills lab? Where other people go to practice surgery?"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'm thinking." Cristina's brain seemed to catch up to her ears. "Wait, you saw us?" Her eyes narrowed in Alex's direction.
"Don't give me the stink-eye, crack whore. The door was open. I never knew you were that flexible. Did you take gymnastics as a kid or something?"
"Ugh." Cristina's annoyance was tempered by her intense desire to answer Alex's question. "Hmm...I guess the vent. Or on the Chief's desk. Whichever."
Meredith was shocked. "Cristina!"
Alex grinned. "Nice."
Cristina shrugged. "Yeah."
"The Chief's...I had a meeting with him in his office the other day!" Meredith sounded scandalized, and a little jealous.
"Hey, that one was not my idea." Cristina considered a moment. "Well, it was. But Owen was the one who actually arranged it." She grinned. "That was a good lunch break."
"Dude. Forget the chief's desk. The vent?"
"Don't knock it until you've tried it."
"Yeah, the vent?! Are you kidding? Wait. What vent?" Meredith swung her head between Alex and Cristina. "And the cafeteria? What the hell is wrong with you people?"
Cristina smirked. "Jealous?"
"Yeah, a little." Meredith slumped down next to Cristina on the floor, tracing the lip of her half-empty bottle of tequila. "Derek and I need to experiment more. Even George did it in the hospital basement with Callie." She shook her head.
"Then there was the supply closet with Izzie. During the code black." It was Alex now who was reminiscing over his various trysts in the hospital, not even listening to Meredith.
"Been there, done that." Cristina was unimpressed even as Meredith looked offended.
"You and Izzie were having sex while I had my hand on a bomb?"
"She told me to take off my pants."
"What, all of a sudden you're all puritanical?" Cristina snickered at Meredith.
"No...but...I could have died!"
"We would have missed you," Alex assured her.
Meredith's train of thought suddenly changed course. "Wait. So when I went to Owen's office last week you weren't there for a consult about that patient, were you?" Her accusing gaze was directed at Cristina.
"Not so much." Cristina put her hands behind her head. "It wasn't on his desk, if that makes you feel any better."
Meredith grimaced. "Not so much."
"Oh, come off it. You and McDreamy did it on every available surface of your house when you signed the Post-It." Alex lay back on the floor, his legs bent at the knee.
"Yeah. House. Not hospital. And the signing the Post-It happened to be our wedding, thank you very much." Even Meredith realized how lame it sounded as she spoke. "Never mind. And shut up," she added, as both Alex and Cristina opened their mouths to say something. "You. Fell in love with the crazy woman that got blood on my kitchen floor. Wife is now hiding from you. And you. Left you at the altar after his mother took your eyebrows. Choked you in your sleep. All I did was get married on a sticker." Meredith leaned back, crossing her legs and leaning back on the gurneys from where she sat on the floor with a sense of finality.
"Married when he met you." Alex shot back, ignoring the look Meredith fixed on him.
"Called you a whore," Cristina added.
"Wouldn't sign divorce papers."
"Ring in your face."
"Dated a nurse."
"Olivia." Meredith rebounded. "While you were with Izzie."
"Whatever. You got married on a sticker."
There was a beat. None of them said anything.
The sudden peals of laughter echoed throughout the eerily quiet tunnels, making tears run down their faces and their bodies shake with hysteria. This was their lives, their love lives, absurd as they were, and only the three of them could understand the hilarity of it all. For a moment, if they listened hard enough, in another time in this place, another two sets of laughter could be heard.
It took a few minutes to catch their breaths, until their laughing fit ceased. They were all quiet for a long time after that, thinking about lovers, past and present, and how they had managed to come through it all and end up here, together with each other and with the others in their lives, on the brink of becoming talented surgeons in their own right.
"I love him." Meredith was the first to break the spell. "I know all of it. I know it's a Post-It. But I love Derek." Her voice was resigned, definitive, confident. "Everything else...I don't know. It doesn't matter." She shrugged, even though the other two couldn't see her. "I love him."
"I love Izzie," Alex admitted, his tone bitter. "Even now. I hate her, but..." He sighed. "I still...I love her." He sounded irrationally angry at the fact, but neither Meredith nor Cristina made a comment.
Meredith looked out of the corner of her eye at Cristina. Alex cocked an eyebrow. Cristina, lost in her own thoughts, finally became aware of the looks from her companions.
"What? I love Owen. Whatever." Alex laughed at Cristina's offhandedness, to which Cristina took issue. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want a chorus of angels singing in the background? Is this an episode of Oprah?"
Meredith joined Alex in laughing at her discomfort. Cristina just rolled her eyes in response. "So I love him. He knows. He loves me. I know. No big declaration needed for the rest of the world." Her matter-of-face tone silenced the laughter. For a moment.
"My God, it is an episode of Oprah." Meredith deadpanned.
Cristina sighed. "Your turn, Mere." She flexed her feet and crossed them at the ankles, waiting for Meredith's question as if they never digressed from the game they had been playing.
"You love him." Meredith teased her friend.
"Yeah, whatever. Can we move on?"
"He loves you."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"You can take that Post-It and stick it…"
"Mere. Your turn." Alex interrupted, bored.
"Fine. I was just trying to bask in my best friend's shiny happiness." Meredith sweetly said, ignoring Cristina, who was sticking her finger down her throat and pretending to throw up.
"Okay. Favorite memories of George and Izzie. No skanky nurses, physical altercations, or incidents of verbal abuse allowed. Go."
"Can it be about sex?"
"Sure. I for one would love to hear you and Mere compare notes on Bambi's technique. Did you cry afterwards too?"
"Bite me. Or do you save that for screwing your boyfriend on the Chief's desk?"
"Lights. Lying on the floor looking at Christmas tree lights with George and Izzie. And Doc. Remember Doc?" Meredith desperately interjected. Once Alex and Cristina got going, it was difficult to get them to stop. She was hoping she could get them to quit now while they were ahead.
"...yeah, well when was the last time you got laid...Evil Pixie..."
"Babies. Looking at the newborn babies with George." Meredith tried again, attempting to tune out the pointless argument.
"...did not hook up with the Mercy West chick...bitch..."
"Baking. Izzie baking at three AM and staying up having chocolate cake and the two of us venting. Venting about the two of you." She was talking mostly to herself by this point, but she found herself smiling softly, remembering her friends, remembering the good when too often it was easier to wallow in the sadness.
"...gynie squad..."
"Izzie cleaning when Derek's mom came to town. George telling me my house wasn't homey."
"...kicked out of how many ORs again?..."
"Dance party. Izzie and George and you and me dancing it out." Her voice was almost a murmur at this point.
"...Doctorpalooza. George drunk and playing strip poker. Classic..."
Meredith stopped to listen.
"...meeting Izzie at the mixer..."
"Izzie and Mere and I at Joe's. And you came up to her and she called you an ass."
"Which time?"
She thought to intervene, remind them that incidents of verbal abuse didn't count, but she decided to let it go for the time being.
"...Does it matter? How about Thanksgiving? Barbie thinking she could cook and the boy wonder committing bird murder?"
"She's a baker, not a cook."
"Whatever."
Alex was quiet for a minute before he spoke up again. "George finding a way for Joe not to have to pay for his surgery."
"Izzie asking me to be her maid of honor." Cristina's voice was uncharacteristically quiet as she remembered.
Alex inclined his head the slightest bit at the mention of his wedding a soft "Yeah" escaping his mouth. Both he and Cristina refrained from speaking for a time, before finally he glanced sidelong at Meredith.
"So? You playing or not?"
Meredith tried to suppress the smile that was spreading across her face.
She failed miserably.
The apathy's surrounding me
Don't close your eyes or we'll fade away this time
The hours passed slowly, yet before they knew it, less than an hour remained.
For the last two days they had drank, slept, bickered, reminisced, thrown up in the nearby bathroom, laughed, sat silently, munched on junk food from the vending machines, and talked.
If there were tears, if there was any crying, well, no one would know it but the three of them, and if anyone guessed, no one would ever be able to prove it.
It was strange, the three of them together, where once it had been five, but in this last year they had grown used to the new dynamic, had grown accustomed to the comfort that the other two in the trio provided. Alex, the body, strong, fierce and protective, knowing how hard to push and when to back off, always present for Meredith and Cristina even if there was anywhere else he would rather be. Meredith, the soul, loyal, compassionate yet steady, a calming influence even when her own emotions were a turbulent storm, bonding Alex and Cristina even as they sometimes pulled each other to the breaking point. Cristina, ironically and though it was probably a cliché, the heart; steeled against the outside world but for the few she had chosen to let inside, pulsing and steady for those she loved and cared about, particular her chosen family of Meredith and Alex. In spite of everything, they had each other, even when they had no one.
Not that they were thinking about anything quite as romantic or insightful now as they once again slumped together on the gurney almost 48 hours after they had begun this. Tribute. Vigil. Therapy session. Whatever.
So they sat there together, as three, for those final minutes, exhausted, emotionally and physically, with raging headaches from hangovers, and feeling distinctly like they needed to take a shower, to wash the memories off of their skin.
"You guys stink." Cristina informed Meredith and Alex, her chin in her hand,
"Speak for yourself." The usual bite wasn't quite there in Alex's voice, as the exhaustion had hit him especially hard, but Cristina appreciated the effort.
"No fighting. It's almost over." Meredith admonished them half-heartedly, partly wanting to get the hell out of there and never wanting to leave this bubble, the place they had found, that they had made theirs when they were interns so long ago.
So they sat there and waited.
Finally, without fanfare, the final minute ticked by, and just like that, 48 hours had passed. They looked at each other. None of them bothered to say anything, because they had said everything and nothing they needed to say for the past two days.
It hadn't changed anything. George was still dead. Izzie was who knew where. Nothing was better or worse than before.
Still, there was a release of tension in the air that made the somber tunnel feel a bit lighter. That was enough for the time being. It was something.
Though they hadn't told anyone their plans for the past two days, after they changed back to their street clothes and out of their dirty scrubs they found Derek and Owen were waiting for them just outside the tunnel, neither of them divulging how they acquired the knowledge of their whereabouts, but as Derek and Owen supported their significant others out of the hospital, Alex right beside them, Bailey looked on, and if the three of them saw a tear glistening in the corner of her eye, well, they weren't going to tell.
Alex went home with Derek and Meredith at Derek's insistence. His old room would always be there and the shower had hot water and even if it wasn't home anymore, he had a place with them. He accepted by crashing on the mattress as soon as he stumbled into his room.
For the first time, the sheets didn't smell like her, and he slept without dreaming.
Meredith curled into Derek's arms and didn't bother to move. Even though she was aware she could use a shower and even though she fell asleep as she tried to tell him, tried to explain, her body relaxed into his and sleep deadened her limbs and she drifted off peacefully. The last thing she'd murmured was that Derek was her home, that she was glad to be home.
Her dreams floated with laughter and the smell of baked goods and memories of a boyish smile.
Cristina showered until the water ran cold, Owen's body warming hers under the spray, the feel of his fingers solid and real against her skin. She pulled a brush aimlessly through her hair and pulled on pajamas and crawled into bed, not remembering any of it. The last thing she knew before her head hit the pillow was the whispered 'I love you' at her ear and his arms enfolding her, and her mumbled 'love you' in return.
She didn't remember any of her dreams the next day, only that they were better than she'd had in a while.
It was something. Whatever it was, it was something.