Hi, all.
Thank you in advance for your interest in my newest fanfic!

I'm not sure how this one came about: but I'm guessing it heavily has to do with a winter spent binge watching the entirety of Grey's Anatomy and the Winter Olympics.

Just a quick disclaimer: I know next to nothing about figure skating or surgery, I'm just an avid fan of the TV series and sport. I took some poetic license with this story: with everything pretty much being canon (to when I started writing this midway through season 14). The main difference in the world of this fanfic, is that Meredith discovered that she was pregnant early on in her residency, and she and Derek had decided to conceal the pregnancy and give the baby up for adoption due to the unsteady nature of their relationship at that time.

I hope you enjoy my take on this series, and please review to tell me what you think!

1. Nobody Knows Me At All

Cassandra Espinoza

One of the most satisfying sounds is the sound of steel blades scraping the newly smoothened surface of an ice rink. Or at least, that's what I thought to myself as I propelled myself around the ice, freely swiveling and turning with my arms outstretched as if I were Rose on the Titanic.

I'd been looking forward to feeling the rush of cold air and adrenaline for the entire day as I sat through class after class, tirelessly completing lengthy physics equations on paper. Finally, it was time for me to complete these equations in real life. Swiveling slightly backwards, I paused for a moment, before jamming my toe-pick into the ice and launching myself into a jump.
For a moment, I spun in mid-air, feeling the resistance crushing my body as I completed two full turns of a double axel and landed on my right foot. Seeing my coach in my peripheral vision, I skated to him, shredding into an abrupt stop before I hit the boards.

Grady applauded me, slowly, and almost sarcastically. I humorously mimed a bow in response. "Only slightly under-rotated," He quipped sardonically and I rolled my eyes.

"It was my first one," I muttered, matching his tone. "You can't rush perfection," A sly smile crept across my face as I launched myself back on to the ice, gaining speed as I glided backward across the empty ice. Though I wasn't looking, I assumed that Grady was scoffing to himself at that response.

Grady and I got along well like that, which was part of the reason why he'd gotten me so far as my coach. He'd moved here to Portland, Oregon after clinching the gold medal in the men's singles event of the Olympics eight years ago, and decided to take me on as his student when I was only nine years old. I'd been competing internationally as a figure skater ever since.

Skating to the music in my head, I went through my routine: launching myself into a triple lutz, double toe combination. Though I bobbled on the second jump and nearly fell, I continued on into my routine's step sequence.

I've always thought of my life as a marriage of my two true loves: physics and skating. When I was little, I became known as a physics prodigy: and since I also happened to have boundless energy, my parents enrolled me in skating classes in order to tire me out. Instead, they created a monster: my love of physics fueled my love of skating, and gave me an outlet for it. Years later, I now found myself weeks away from my first Olympic Games.

I should have known that I needed to pick up more speed before launching into my next jump, the triple flip, as I thought of my genius in physics while skating. After falling flat on my ass and tumbling across the ice for a few moments, I chuckled through my bared teeth, pulling myself to my feet despite the pain and new bruises that I was sure to find tomorrow morning.

"Lazy," Grady shouted as I continued on, I waved my hand dismissively at him. "Get out of your head," He suggested, and since he was shouting from across the ice, it sounded like an order.

Launching myself into the air again, I landed in a spin.

As I spun faster and faster, and sunk into a sit spin, the world fell away. Physics made the world make logical sense to me; but it was only while skating that the world made emotional sense in the context of my strange life.

I've thought about this a lot over the past year, as I prepared to return to Seattle, where I was born, to compete in the Winter Olympics that will be hosted there in a few weeks time.

Rising from my spin, and nearly panting as I skated to Grady, I thought about my parents who adopted me at birth a decade after they emigrated from Spain to the Pacific Northwest to advance their careers as college professors and academic researchers. It was always obvious to me that I wasn't genetically an Espinoza; but it was always clear that I was loved and treasured. My parents were consistently my cheering section: from when I completed high school at fifteen, to now, at seventeen as I trained for the Olympic games while halfway through studying for a degree in Physics.

Though I had everything I ever could ask for in my childhood, there still seemed to be something missing. This pervasive feeling only grew, the closer I got to the games in Seattle. The part of me that I actively tried to silence wondered who my birth parents were, and if they even had a second thought about the Olympic chaos that was surely going on around them, too.

When I reached my coach, he already had his arm extended, offering me a bottle of water. Wordlessly, I accepted it, gulping down about half of the liquid inside.

My parents didn't know much about the couple that they had adopted me from, except that they were unmarried surgeons at the hospital where I was born. My birth parents had wanted it this way, so I'd been told, but I'd never known why. I guessed they wanted to remain anonymous because giving up a baby was not an easy thing to do-but maybe that was wishful thinking. The only thing left from the people who had supplied me with my genetic codes was my middle name: Grace, given as a tribute to Seattle Grace Hospital, where I'd entered the world.

I'd only realized I was zoning out when Grady waved his hand in front of my face. I blinked, and registered his look of concern. "Are you okay, Cas?" He asked me in a soft voice.

I nodded, biting my lip and watched as Grady shifted back into business mode. I followed suit. "Music please, " I requested, tossing my water bottle back at him and gliding back onto the ice.

Since I refused to skate to the Carmen Suite like everyone else and their mother, I chose to skate to a more contemporary selection for my short program: the main theme from the Incredibles Movie. Despite the fact that I'd originally suggested this music to Grady as a joke and had gotten stuck with it, I felt like a legitimate superhero as I jumped and spun through my entire routine with minimal error this time.

Grady was pleased. "She's back," He announced, grinning.

I smiled, catching my breath, and stared down at my right knee that had just recovered from its recent surgery to repair the damage it had taken from being landed on all of these years. This was my first full practice since, and so far, my knee had not felt this strong in a long time.

I kicked myself mentally as my mind shifted back to my birth parents. Did they like to cut knees open? What did they cut open for a living?

I shook my head as if to physically shake this thought. Grady gave me my critiques as I downed the rest of my bottle of water. For the rest of the three hour practice, I was on autopilot. As I skated, I imagined what it would be like to skate these numbers in the Olympics… or even more terrifying, to meet my birth parents.

With the Olympics only a week away, we'd flown into Seattle to prepare. With a backpack full of thick physics books and two heavy duffel bags of clothing, equipment and supplies, I crossed the threshold of my apartment in the Olympic village. My heart raced as I listened closely to see if anyone else had arrived. I'd learned only recently that I would be sharing this space with a few of the closest friends that I had made in this sport who would also be representing the United States at this Olympics.

As I turned the corner into the bedroom that had been assigned to me, I was startled to have been enveloped into a tight embrace by my fiercest competitor and closest long distance friend: Hannah Drake. Hannah was small and wiry, but her hold on me almost took me to the floor. When she finally moved away, I could read the excitement in her electric green eyes. She pushed her blonde hair behind her ear and sat down on the bed on the opposite side of the room. "Surprise," She announce cheerily, "We're roommates,"

I dropped my bags on the floor at the end of the other bed, which I assumed was mine and smiled. "I'm not all that surprised," I said, chuckling, as I quickly pulled my Jet black, straight hair into a makeshift ponytail. It was public information that Hannah and I were perhaps the most inseparable competitors in the sport, always requesting to room together whenever we traveled for competitions. Upon glancing into the mirror on the bedroom wall, I noticed that my eyes took on an unnatural hue of blue against the Team USA jacket that had been given to me only hours before.

Hannah flung herself backward, spreading out across her bed with her arms and legs draping off the sides. "Can you believe that we're really here?"

She meant the Olympics. But my mind was in disbelief for other reasons.

Meredith Grey

It's the small moments in life that make the most impact. Making a wrong cut can end someone's life in a second. A decision in a split second can transform the lives of many different people for the rest of their lives, and might even transform your own life as well.

The kitchen was buzzing with activity on this Monday morning. As Zola, Bailey and Ellis wolfed down their waffles at record speed, Maggie read the newspaper. Amelia, who was decidedly not a morning person like the rest of us, hastily shoveled coffee into a coffee filter and shoved it into the machine. We locked eyes, as if I was silently thanking her for providing the fuel that would probably be the reason that I got through this morning.

Maggie spoke, thinking out loud, her eyes still fixed on the newspaper. "Did you know that one of the Olympic figure skaters was born at Seattle Grace?" She sighed in awe, setting the paper down on the table in front of her and looking up from it at us. I looked away as quickly as I could without drawing suspicion, pretending to assure that my children's lunches were adequately packed. "She was born during first year of residency, Mer. Isn't that weird? You could have met the mom, or something, and not even realized it."

Both Maggie and Amelia were now watching my reaction. I shrugged. "That was a long time ago." I replied in a jagged tone, checking the lunch boxes for a third time.

I could feel Amelia's skepticism radiating off of her. "Can I see that?" She asked Maggie, and Maggie forfeited the paper. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Amelia studied the paper closely. I was also aware that Maggie was studying me. I wondered if she somehow found out the truth… and had planned this whole interaction.

Amelia broke out into an uncomfortable laughter. "She kind of looks like…" She stopped herself, eyes widening as she looked to me. I pretended I didn't notice as I messily poured coffee into my thermos and corralled the kids into the car. I knew what she was going to say. The Olympic Figure Skater from Portland who would be returning to Seattle looked like Derek. It was also very clear that she'd picked up on the fact that I did not want to discuss the various ways in which she was absolutely right.

After we had dropped off the kids at their respective schools, the car became notably silent and tense. It was as if we all knew that there was something that we should be discussing that we were not. As we waited for Alex and Jo to emerge from their house, the Elephant in the Room grew larger and larger.

Jo climbed into middle of the back seat, next to Maggie, followed by Alex. Immediately after taking his seat, Alex scoffed. "Who died?" He asked, in his usual Alex way that I'd grown to appreciate over the years.

When no one responded, Jo and Alex locked eyes.

"Are we ready?" I asked impatiently, realizing that I was coming off as annoyed to the passengers of my car.

"What's up your ass?" Alex asked, getting straight to the point.

"Nothing," I snapped back at him in an icy tone, "I've got a packed day and would really just like to get going if you don't mind."

I watched through the rearview mirror as Alex froze, stunned at my reaction. Sighing, I pulled away from the curb and drove the silent vehicle to the hospital.

Immediately after arriving at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, I rushed to the nearest vacant supply closet on the surgical floor, locked the door, and whipped my phone out of my pocket. Come on, I thought, heart pounding, Pick up… Four agonizing dial tones later, I was greeted with an irritated groan from the other side of the world.

"This better be important" Cristina moaned into the phone, irritated. It sounded like I'd woken her from the first sleep she'd had in weeks. It took me a second to respond. "Mer?" She asked, now slightly panicked, "Are you still there?" Her tone had softened significantly.

"…Yeah," I responded unsteady. The truth was, I hadn't really thought of how I would explain this to Cristina. I didn't know what to say. Despite how Cristina had been the only person other than Derek who knew about the baby, after the choice had been made, it was as if the situation had never happened in the first place. It was as if Cristina and I had an unspoken rule to never speak of this again.

A made-up rule that I felt as though I was now breaking.

My best friend sounded more awake now. "Do you just need me to be here with you?" She asked.

I hardly noticed that a single tear was falling down my face. Somewhat ashamed, I swatted it away. "I think I found my daughter…"

A pointed silence fell over the other line. "Like… your… first … daughter?"

I swallowed, and updated her on the events of this morning.

"I'm coming," Cristina announced.

"You can't," I decided, "You have research and your department to run. I'll be fine,"

She didn't buy it. "Just let me do this, Mer," She said, "Let me be here for you this time."