Smokey Grey
Part Two
I'm playing a bit with different POVs here, and this part was suddenly in the present tense. It just worked better that way. Disclaimer in part one. It was actually surprisingly hard to write the part which took place in the last minute of the season finale – something that was already set, with people mainly just looking at each other. It looks good on TV, but it doesn't work quite that well when written. But it had to be included, to be able to move on. Although I have no idea where this story is going, I'm sure it must be going somewhere :)
Two men. One decision.
"Well, I'll drive you home." Finn's voice is close to her ear, she can smell his aftershave, but it doesn't make her stomach go all tingly, the way she knows it should.
Why doesn't it?
She remains standing, unable to move. Looking at Derek. He turns and looks at her, his expression unreadable. Silently she is begging him to say something, although she doesn't know what she wants him to say.
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Finn turns around when he realises that Meredith isn't following him. He looks at her, and then he notices the way the two surgeons stare at each other. The intensity. His eyes meet Dr Shepherd's – and he can't tell if the older man is silently mocking him - or feeling sorry for him.
Why would Dr Shepherd feel sorry for him?
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"Meredith?" Derek's low voice is both a caress and a command.
"Meredith?" Finn's voice is more questioning.
Poor Finn, how could she get him involved in her hopeless life? He is far too good for her. She is too messed up. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to have a girlfriend who's a cheating whore. A mistress.
She turns around, and walks away. Walks away from both of them. Walks away from the decision, the confrontation, the responsibility. She can deal with the guilt later, and the consequences. Right now, she just doesn't have the strength.
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Finn and Derek both stand there, looking at her as she walks down the stairs. She is leaning her head slightly forwards, her hair falls in front of her face, shielding her profile from them. She looks beaten somehow, tired. Like she is carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Finn is still confused, but there is no mistaking the look Dr Shepherd gives him. It's pure alpha male. Dr Shepherd is staking his claim on Dr Meredith Grey, the challenge is obvious. The thing is, Finn didn't know that there was anything to challenge him about in the first place. Derek is married to an intelligent, sympathetic and drop-dead gorgeous woman. Their dog is dead, he put Doc to sleep himself. The nagging feeling he's had for some time now (Why do they have a dog? Together?) returns, stronger (What made Meredith so damaged? Who?). The other man is putting his right hand in the pocket of his trousers, and it looks like he is touching something in it, somewhat triumphantly.
What is in his pocket?
"Are the parties at this hospital always this eventful?" Finn asks, he doesn't really know where the question came from, it's stupid, but he had to say something.
"Yeah." Derek turns and walks away.
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He walks away. Addison claims that it's what he does best. Walking away. It's been his way of dealing with problems for quite some time now, and he knows this all too well. But this time, he was ready to stay. This time, it was she who walked away. But he can wait for her.
He doesn't know why he took her panties when she was getting her left shoe out from under the chair in the corner. He hid them in his pocket, and when she started rambling about where here panties were, they were interrupted – by a disapproving Dr Torres – before she had the chance to realise that he had taken them.
His hand in his pocket is closed around them. The tiny bit of black lace is like an anchor and a trophy combined. They feel slightly wet and sticky, but he doesn't know whether it's from her, or if it's just from his own hands, sweating profusely.
He can't go home. He can't go back to her, not tonight, he can't face her. He thinks that she knows. Or at least that she suspects. As far as Addie was concerned, they were working on their marriage, they were doing quite well. He's known this for some time, and he hasn't known if he should tell her that he wasn't sure, that he couldn't sleep at night because he was wondering in whose bed Meredith was. What she was doing. If she was with him. The things he could be doing to her.
And tonight, seeing them dancing together, seeing that she looked relaxed and happy in a way that she hadn't looked since, well, before Addison showed up, something in him had just snapped. She was his. He was hers. He needed to make her want him again. And he had. He wasn't proud of the way it had happened, but he had. Even knowing that by going after her, he would hurt her again, and hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do, but still, he went after her, he couldn't help it. Yet another thing to feel guilty about. Add it to the ever-growing list.
What it all means? He has no idea. The consequences of what the two of them have done tonight are too far-reaching, they have the potential to change the lives of a lot of people. Too many people.
He finds an empty on-call room, takes off his jacket, and falls asleep. Strangely, he doesn't dream about either of them.