Oh my God, guys, I'm sorry that I suck. I left you the author's note and everything saying I was going to continue…then, two days later, I got a progress report. That revealed (Ta-da) that chemistry was kicking my academic ass. The computer was quickly declared a distraction from 'studying' so it was taken. Now, however, I have pulled the grade up (Yay) so I am back on. This is a long chapter. Very important plot developments. And I swear things will speed up from here.
Feeling
the moment slip away
Losing direction, you're losing faith
You're
wishing for someone
Feeling it all begin to slide
Am I
just like you?
Feeling A Moment, Feeder
Derek
I'm in a shitty mood when I get home that night, and I'm not even sure exactly why. I'm never exactly bursting with joy to return to Addison and the trailer, but tonight is worse than normal.
Meredith's face in the lobby today is positioned right in front of my mind's eye, and I want to get rid of the image, because it worries me. Where had that come from, that panic and desperation? It was such a rapid change from her telling me that it was none of my business, that I should go back to ignoring her…and she'd only done that a few moments before.
Addison's already home when I get there, sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. I offer a cursory 'hello' before perching on the edge of the bed, pulling my shoes off.
Of course, she wants to talk. What surprises me is what she wants to talk about.
"So what happened with Meredith and Dr. Dandridge today?"
The casual tone to her voice amazes me; Meredith's name has been forbidden since prom and now she says it like we often gossip about her. "What are you talking about?" Christ, I'm already sounding defensive; it's almost habit now, one that clearly hasn't gone away in the month or so that we haven't mentioned her.
"I heard they had a fight in the middle of the lobby. Everyone's talking about it."
I make a noncommittal noise, waiting to see where this is going.
"You were there, weren't you?"
Of course. "I was in the room, yes. Unlike everyone else, apparently, I tried to mind my own business."
"Really?" This is slightly less casual, higher on the level of sarcasm. "Because apparently it was about you."
"Buying into that 'idiotic' hospital gossip, Addie?" I can't resist saying; she's a chief complainer of the way everyone treats the hospital like a soap opera.
She actually blushes a little, but then regains her complete and utter confidence that she's always right. "There's something strange about the gossip about you and Meredith…it's usually true."
It's my turn to get a little red in the face now; what is she referring to, exactly? A wild swirl of thoughts, completely irrational, come into my mind, involving exam room sex and orthopedic residents catching us at it, whispers in corridors…
Addison is continuing, "So what is it that would have steamed Finn up so much?"
I shrug. "I haven't really talked to Meredith much." I can force casualty, too; to hear me talk, Meredith and I are merely friendly acquaintances who have, regretfully, drifted apart recently. "We were on a case together yesterday, and before Finn showed up I was talking to her in the lobby…just about the case…" My voice trails off, and I'm hoping Addison drops it.
Yeah, right.
She looks at me desperately. "Derek, tell me the truth. Please. A guy like Finn doesn't blow up in front of half of the hospital staff over just talking." Her gaze is piercing me, and I almost feel bad; I have lied to her many times, and now she's begging me for the truth when, in a technical sense, I'm actually giving it.
The statement bothers me, and I'm sure it shows, which probably heightens Addison's suspicions; it doesn't, however, bother me for the reason she thinks.
Addison hit on something, though. If that argument was, in fact, about me (and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been listening to bits and pieces), then it was irrational of Finn to blow up like that. We had talked, and that really was all that happened, despite what Addison clearly believes. Unless…
Unless Meredith had told him about prom. That's the only explanation I can think of but it doesn't sound like her. She's been going right along with me for the past month, pretending it never happened…why would she tell him now?
I'm quiet for so long, that Addison's voice has rose an octave when she presses, "Derek!"
"Sorry…listen, I am telling you the truth. Nothing happened. I've barely talked to Meredith since…" I nearly say 'prom', which would have been more than catastrophic in arousing an old suspicion, knowing the event that ended our interaction. I can't help but wonder if I would even mind. "…Doc died."
There are questions written all over Addison's face, questions she'd asked a thousand times before, questions she'd never gotten an answer to. What happened to the whole being friends thing? Is it because of Finn? What happened on prom night that had you so quiet? Are you over he or not, Derek? It's a simple question.
Simple questions, but there are no simple answers. Or maybe there are, but the answers aren't the ones she wants to hear, not the ones I can tell her.
I lay back in bed, indicating that the window to conversational opportunity is closed. A few minutes later, Addison joins me silently, and the lights go off and the silence lingers.
I think about silences with Meredith and silences with Addison's. When Addison and I are silent, it's because we have run out of things to say, or we're too hell bent on hiding the truth half the time that it won't even come out anymore. The silences are awkward and empty.
Meredith and I can say a lot in silence, and too often we've had to use the silence to say the things that words won't or can't cover. I know how to read her eyes, and I know how to make her read mine. From simplicities like a concern during surgery to the most complex situations, like on prom night. When she looked at me, as she was leaving with him, I'd seen the regret and the uncertainty, the guilt. Nothing positive, and I'd wondered painfully how she could have made the decision so quickly and still looked at me like that.
Now, I think about the silence from the lobby today. She'd said things, sure, angry things that I completely deserved…but somehow she'd said far more with her eyes, with the look…that had been honest. A pang of sadness hits me when I realize that reading it is harder than it used to be.
Fear, pleading…the emotions are clear. The reason isn't it.
I can't sleep tonight. Not with the way I've memorized the expression on her face, not with the concern that I can't justify because I have no idea why she looked at me that way.
Addison's breathing has long grown steady when I convince myself to stop contemplating Meredith's look. Unfortunately, then I'm hearing the way she yelled at Finn to 'stop it'. After that, I see another expression: the nauseous look that had come over her face when he'd first walked up. Then, I think about the flat, dangerously quiet voice he'd used when he said her name.
I'm obsessing, and I know it. But the entire scene, the looks, the voices, all of it…it's off.
I'm not used to not being 'in the know', so to speak, and I'm not used to feeling helpless.
It's 3:19 when I'm seized with an incredible desire to see, or at the very least, talk to Meredith. Not the usual I miss her, I wish I could see her either. This is almost a need to see her, just to make sure…
Make sure what? That she's okay? Yes, that's the way I'm feeling, but it doesn't make sense.
I shiver involuntarily, and even though I've remained perfectly motionless in bed up until this point, I'm sure Addison will wake up, if not from the movement then my suddenly ragged breathing.
I turn on my side, trying to shake the thoughts from my mind. I'll have to wake up in several hours, and I'll be hating myself by the end of the shift tomorrow for staying awake so long, obsessing about something that's probably completely ridiculous, and certainly 'none of my business.'
Funny how I can't even convince myself of this.
I don't fall asleep.
Meredith
I don't want them looking at me.
They do of course. You can't make a spectacle of yourself the way I just have (the way I still am) and not expect your friends to stare at you. I suppose I'm lucky to have them, friends who care enough not to ignore me when I have an emotional breakdown, even though I'd gladly take being ignored right now.
They're knelt around me on the couch, the bits of their faces I can see a mixture of shock and concern, and they're asking what's wrong, their voices urgent.
I try to control my sobs, but it's not working very well. Maybe it's not so bad; as long as I'm crying, I don't have to talk. I don't have to try to explain the reason for this, because I know I can't tell them.
I want to, I really do; I desperately want to bring someone else into this, ask for help, anything. But I can't.
The terrifying thought comes to me, for the first time. He'll know.
"Meredith, what is it?" Izzie's asking.
"Nothing." I choke out, and instantly feel ridiculously pathetic. It's very clearly something.
"Mer, it's not nothing." Cristina's voice is a no-nonsense, 'tell-the-truth' kind of tone, contrasting sharply with Izzie's soothing tone
"Yeah, it is…just a hard day." I'm still gasping for normal breath, and I look at them helplessly. They're my best friends, and I very nearly blurt it out; even if they can't do anything about it (and I'm sure they can't), I wish I could just let them know, stop carrying this by myself.
"Mer…" Izzie's voice rises a little.
"I'm fine." It comes out angry, and I don't really know where anger is coming from right now.
"Riiiight. Because you always cry hysterically when you're fine. It's a trademark." Only someone who knows Cristina very well would be able to decipher this statement into of utmost concern, and I feel almost guilty (guilty!) for making them worry and lying about it.
"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…" I wave my hand meaninglessly, somehow attempting to indicate the mess I've suddenly fallen into. "I think I'm just going to go to bed."
They're expressions are frustrated now, but I think they can tell I'm not going to give in. "Okay…"
Cristina stands. "I guess I'll just take off."
I nod, not looking at her as she leaves the room.
Then, Izzie and I are left standing there alone, and Izzie makes one last attempt. "You know you can talk to us, Mer."
My throat closes and I feel like I may choke on the lump in my throat if I say something. Instead, I just nod, wishing it was true.
I move up to my bedroom and lock the door when I get inside, purposelessly, but it makes me feel a little better. I don't even change clothes, but I climb into bed and surround myself with all the covers I can.
I don't want to think about what Finn is going to do next time he sees me; after the blow up followed by me not showing up at his house…I shiver a little.
The tears have stopped, mercifully, but what I'm left with isn't much better. Staring at the ceiling and trying to close my eyes, I don't remember ever feeling this helpless, and this alone.
I want to sleep.
I spend the time between midnight and one thirty trying to imagine that, somehow, I can explain to Finn what happened. Rationally. The fact that I even bother thinking about it disgusts me.
From one thirty to three I try to imagine what my friends would say if I told them. It's nice to think about it, and I feel a pathetic longing for their sympathy and hugs and the anger they'd direct at Finn.
At three my mind wanders to Derek, and I wonder what he'd do. I can almost see it, I know him so well; he'd probably be smiling, trying to entice me into a conversation, then I'd tell him. I can picture the way his expression would freeze, the smile slowly fading, the looks that would flash through his eyes, a brilliant combination of rage at Finn and concern and maybe sadness for me…
I close my eyes and seek deeper into the fantasy, imagining the way he would wrap his arms around me and make me feel completely safe.
It's a comforting image, and I focus on it for the rest of the night, afraid to drift off and lose it.
I don't fall asleep.
X X X X X X X X
I leave with Izzie and George the next morning for work the next morning, not feeling tired yet but sure it will catch up with me. I leave my cell phone, turned off, on my bedside table at home. I wonder how long I can do this; dodge Finn, only going out to go to work, riding everywhere in cars full of people, or staying home locked in my bedroom, my roommates an assuring few steps away.
I'm barely inside the hospital doors when I hear a voice behind me.
"Mer…"
I turn slightly, and Derek's standing there, staring at me, wide-eyed, with a strange expression on his face.
I meet his eyes for a moment, and he looks almost relieved, and I can't even think to be angry or nervous or whatever the hell my role is with Derek right now. I just wait, because the way he says my name freezes me.
He doesn't say anything, and finally I turn around, away from the stare, away from the things I can't explain. I think back on the image that had gotten me through last night, and I love remembering it for a moment. I want to hold on to it.
The image, the completely fabricated image is now woven into my mind and it's so powerful that for just a second I turn back to look at him. A sudden instinctual urge to run up to him, to tell everything, to let that face become real, overtakes me, but it's gone as quickly as it came, and I follow the others to the elevator.
I know I won't tell Derek. How can I? I left him for Finn, turned around and walked off with a man who hurts me on purpose, the last part making him so different from the way Derek hurt me. I chose Finn over Derek, and what right do I have to ask him to save me now?
Besides, if I think Finn would go crazy over Cristina and Izzie knowing, there's no telling what he'd do if I told Derek.
I like the security of the hospital, the crowds of people, because for awhile I'm safe.
It's a false sense of security, though, because I'm on my way to the cafeteria with Alex, Cristina and Izzie (George is in surgery) when Finn's in front of me.
"Hi." His voice is soft and serious, his eyes uncertain, but I know this is for my friends benefit. "Can we maybe go somewhere to talk?"
I take an unconscious step backward, so I'm in between Cristina and Alex. "I don't really have much time right now…"
"It won't take long."
I feel a chill run down my spine at the words, but I ignore them. "We're actually on our way to eat..." I glance at Alex momentarily, and I notice he's giving me a confused look. I turn to Cristina, but she's no different.
Finally Izzie says in an uncertain voice, "Mer, we don't mind, if you need to talk…"
Alex nods in confirmation, and I feel sick. What now? I had somehow lured myself into believing that just being around my friends would be enough to avoid him. But what happens now?
"I can't leave, Finn, I'm on call." Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Alex looking at me hard, and I hope the fear doesn't show on my face.
He shrugs. "We can just go someplace quiet. Please?" My eyes narrow at him and I glare for the few seconds I can keep it up.
I think about refusing, telling him I don't want to talk, but they'll wonder. Besides, how long can I put this off?
Finally, I nod numbly and my friends walk off, shooting me smiles and 'good luck' sort of faces. Finn's face is expressionless as he looks at me, an outward appearance of absolute calm.
I lower my voice, "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Sure you are", he replies in a mild tone of voice, taking my arm.
I wince. "Finn, no."
"Yes." He's still speaking in a distracted, disinterested tone, and his eyes are darting around the halls. "Where can we go?"
I jerk my arm back and start to walk away, instinct taking over.
Of course he follows me, his grip tighter now. He moves his mouth close to my ear, and his voice isn't quite so mild. "You're coming." And it's still not a question as he leads me to the basement of the hospital, the 'tunnels' and it's a sign of my sudden numbness that I can only wonder how he knows where we're going.
I'm hoping someone will be there, but of course there isn't; it's why we come down here, just us interns. It's our place, and every once in awhile a gurney gets pushed through or a doctor wanders around, but usually it's empty.
I cringe a little feeling the hard floor beneath us, looking at the brick lining either side, thinking of the way footsteps echo to announce the arrival of anyone before they come into view…
He's got nothing to worry about.
I move automatically to one of the gurneys that are pushed against the wall and sit down. His eyes are full of anger now, and the muscles in his face have tightened; this look it becoming much too familiar. "What is it, Finn?"
"You didn't come over last night."
"I know."
"I caught you with Derek yesterday."
"Talking to Derek. He's one of my bosses, Finn…" I try. Every single time he does this I try, try to reason with him. I've lost any hope of it working.
"You talk to him. You came home late two nights ago, and then not at all last night." His eyes are wide with fury. "What am I supposed to think?"
I'm growing angry. I have no room for learning from mistakes where Finn is concerned. "You were supposed to trust me! And not get so damn pissed just because one of my bosses used to be my boyfriend." I'm standing now, probably not the smartest move.
"You shared a dog, Meredith!" He steps closer, and this phrase is delivered with a very accusatory, 'got-you-there' kind of tone.
I give him a look of disbelief, and shoot back the only possible retort to something like that. "So?!"
Finn shakes his head and turns, walking a way a little, his expression wild. Suddenly completely exhausted, sick and tired of this whole thing, I sigh, drawing my arms closer to my body, and slowly close my eyes. As soon as I do, I stumble backwards onto the gurney from the sudden impact of a fist connecting with my right cheek.
He'd caught me off guard, and I barely register the pain underneath the surprise and the panic. Finn leans forward and grabs my arms, shaking me, a manic look in his eyes. "What do I have to do to you, Meredith? Things have to change!"
My eyes are closed again, and I'm thinking, I could not agree more, Finn. Things do have to change. Specifically, YOU. Of course I don't say that.
"I, I c-can't do this anymore, Finn." I blurt out, my voice shaking. He stops shaking me, but his grip doesn't loosen at all.
"Do what?"
I wave my hand, suddenly terrified at what I've said. "This. Any of it."
He gives me a weird little smile, his voice almost mild. "Well, that's too bad. Because you're damn well going to do this." In a swift motion, he's shoved me to the back of the gurney, my head hitting the window behind it. "RIGHT?!"
There's no way I can get the words out. I nod.
"And things are going to change, RIGHT?"
I can't move. He's inches from my face, pinning me against the wall by my arms.
"Goddamnit…" With a sudden jerk with his foot, he slides the gurney out from under me, and my head hits the window sill and for a moment everything is dark.
Suddenly I'm lying on the ground, my head throbbing painfully, my back aching. I'm dizzy as hell, and after a moment I feel something sticky in my hair…
"Things are going to change, RIGHT?"
"Yes." My voice is small, but I know now to answer.
"Good. Come over tonight." His footsteps echo through the hallway, and he's gone. My eyes are burning in an effort to hold back to the tears.
Finally, I force myself to sit up, moaning quietly. I reach back to feel my head, and my hand comes back red and sticky from blood.
I walk quickly up to the locker room to rinse it. Feeling the cut blindly, I determine that I don't need stitches, at least…
I sit down on one of the benches, my chest heaving. I've got a few minutes before I need to get back on the floor. Everyone else is still probably at lunch.
Or not. The door to the locker room clatters open and Alex is standing there, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Hey, Mer, can I talk to you for a sec?"
I shrug, trying my best to look casual. "Sure."
He sits on the bench across from me. I can tell he's a bit uncomfortable with whatever he wants to ask, because he shifts his weight a couple times and avoids my eyes. Finally, after much throat clearing, he glances at me and blurts out, "Is everything okay? With you and Finn?"
Taken aback, I hesitate for a moment. "Um…well we were fighting a little yesterday, but-"
"No, not…" He pauses, sighing. "Is everything okay?"
My stomach turns a little, but I manage to get out, "Not sure what you mean, Alex."
"Are you okay?" He fixes me with the same hard stare he'd given me before I left with Finn, and I can't look him in the eye anymore. When I finally meet his gaze again, he's looking at my cheek. Too late I realize the small bruise that was there early has probably grown and darkened.
I pretend not to notice. I give what I hope is a confused smile. "I'm fine, Alex. Why?"
He shakes his head, not looking convinced. "Nothing. Just know…if you're not, you can talk to me."
Oh, crap. Forget it. Tears are stinging my eyes, and I look quickly into my lap, watching my fingers pull absently as a loose string on the seam of my scrubs. "Thanks, Alex."
I think about what Finn made me promise…that things were going to change. Suddenly, I feel like crying because I know that they aren't.
Two Weeks Later
I was right. Nothing's changed.
Ever since the incident in the tunnels, I've stopped defying him. I've stopped trying to reason with him. I've given up.
I do what he wants. I come to his house on the nights he wants me to, which is nearly every night. I skip going to Joe's when he tells me to, I break plans with my friends if he wants. I eat with him at the hospital if he shows up. I do everything he wants, and still he gets angry. Every single night, there's something. Sometimes I'm late, sometimes I leave early, sometimes I wear too much makeup, sometimes I say something he takes the wrong way…
It doesn't really matter. He finds something to get angry about.
The little time I don't see him, the times I'm with my friends, I'm a wreck. I cry a lot, out of desperation and I can never really control it. I hold it in, when I'm with him, so my friends get the short end of the stick. Sometimes I catch Alex watching me, or making like he wants to say something and I've started avoiding him as much as possible.
It's a Thursday, and we're sitting at a table in the cafeteria, and they're all eating. I'm not. I just…don't want to. My shoulder's hurting today; he grabbed it at some point and twisted it, and now it's aching painfully.
I can tell everyone's uncomfortable, and I know it's my fault. After a few days of being around me, as I'm always either crying or snapping angrily at everyone nearby, they've become uncomfortable. Big surprise.
Finn, shockingly, didn't give me any instructions on where to go tonight. I might get to go to Joe's.
Yahoo.
Cristina is looking at me with a determined expression, and then says, "Meredith, are you ever going to tell us what's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Is it Derek? Has he been-"
"Don't talk to me about him." I snap instantly, feeling a bit stupid. But seriously, the last thing I need is for anyone to mention my name in association with Derek.
Cristina mutters something that sounds like "answers my question" but I don't bother replying.
Derek
At the end of the day on Thursday, I'm in the scrub room when Cristina Yang corners me.
"I need to talk to you, Dr. Shepard." Her voice is cold and hard, and I sigh inwardly, wondering what I could have done to warrant this anger.
"Okay, sure, go ahead."
"I want you to leave Meredith alone."
My mouth flies open automatically, I was so ready to defend myself. But upon hearing the actual accusation, I pause. "Huh?"
"She's a mess. I mean, she wasn't happy about it when you weren't speaking to her after…after prom, but now…she cries all the time. She hardly eats, she's exhausted, so I guess she doesn't sleep much either. It's bad, Dr. Shepard. I know she's with Finn, but she's clearly upset about whatever's going on. So maybe it would be better if you just went back to not bothering her at all. She's had enough from you."
A painful knot has settled into my stomach and the color's left my face. Cries all the time, hardly eats…it had taken me nearly a week to stop obsessing over the look Mer had given me to day of the fight in the lobby, and now, after doing my best to avoid her in case there was something I was doing to cause the problem, I'm hearing that she's apparently been getting worse.
"Dr. Yang…I have. She told me the same thing, the day in the lobby, before her fight . She told me it was better when we weren't talking and…I haven't talked to her since. Except during rounds, just regular medical stuff."
"Right. You're the only one who's ever gotten her like that. There's no point in lying, I just thought you should no what you're doing to her. If you care about her at all-"
I'm starting to feel a little pissed. And more than a little worried. "Cristina. I love Meredith. Okay? I don't want to see her hurt anymore, I know I've done that enough. I haven't done anything."
A flicker of self doubt momentarily clouds her angry expression, but then it's right back in place. "Whatever you say."
She's gone, and I'm left thinking about her words describing Meredith's current emotional state. A chill hits me…what is it that's making her like this?
X X X X X X X X X
I go to Joe's that night, glad Addison got pulled to a late surgery so she's not there to insist on joining me. I head for the bar, but see Meredith and her friends there. Cristina gives me a withering look over Meredith's shoulder.
I opt for a small table that still puts them in my line of sight.
I watch Meredith for awhile, which does not escape the notice of Joe, who shakes his head a little at me, giving me a knowing smile. "Where's Addi tonight, Doc?"
"Surgery." I mutter absently, my eyes still glued on the back of Meredith's head.
"You two have another fight or something?" I glance at him, confused, then see he's looking at Meredith, too. He doesn't mean me and Addison.
"No, um, we haven't talked much lately. Why?"
He shrugs. "She just seems…sad."
"She been like that for long?"
Joe shrugs again, looking a little uncertain about talking to me about it. "Don't know, man. She hasn't been in much. Not even with her friends." He slaps me lightly on the back and sits the drink down in front of me. "Enjoy, pal."
I murmur a thank you. My concern is mounting, and somehow I get the idea in my head that I should just get her on her own, and ask her what's wrong.
After about fifteen minutes, she gets up and heads to the bathrooms in the back. Without really thinking, I rise and follow her. Outside the restrooms, I hesitate a moment…should I wait or just go in? Feeling completely pathetic, I turn the knob on the women's restroom and step in.
Meredith's standing at the sink right in front of me, and she gives a cry of surprise and spins around. Her jacket is clutched in her hands, and she's wearing a tank top. In a split second, she's hastily pulling the jacket on again, but she's not fast enough.
Her arms are covered with dark bruises and cuts. Just like the one on her cheek that's been there for a while.
A series of images flash through my mind, faces of her and Finn and Cristina, bits of conversation and suddenly I get it.
And for the first time since she walked off and left me at prom, I feel like crying.
Okay, the hard part's over. Seriously, I was always very clear about what's happening after this, but the hard part was writing until Derek found out. I know I've been a terrible updater and don't deserve great loyal readers (yes, I'm kissing ass a little) but I really hope you take the time to review. Please tell me everything you liked or didn't like, etc. Thanks for sticking with me.
