A/N – Fourth chapter up! I had hoped to get this up a little sooner than this, but there you go. The editing took an eternity as usual. I guess I should learn. This chapter was supposed to be the next to last, but it seems like I have more to write, so I'm taking a guess at six chapters in total for this story. It may be more than that if the characters have different opinions than me during the writing. That happened in this chapter, for instance. They sort of took off without me so I just had to scribble down what they felt like saying. At least it makes an interesting process...
This chapter picks up immediately where chapter 3 ended, so you might want to cast a glance at it before reading if you don't remember it exactly. Read & enjoy!
-----
Meredith took a deep breath when her pager beeped a third time and forced herself to snap out of her trance. She had no time for a breakdown right now. She had work to do. She had to be fine. Casting a quick glance at her pager, she clenched her jaw to make her body forget about the lack of sleep it had suffered lately and jogged through the corridor towards the office where she'd met with Mark before. She imagined Derek tapping his fingers impatiently while waiting for her and she quickened her pace even further. She saw him from a distance. He was sitting at the little desk, browsing some file on the computer. He wasn't tapping, but he looked absent; not at all into whatever he was trying to read. She contemplated for a moment what to say to him; she wasn't sure if she should wallow in her anger over his condescending behavior earlier, or if she should pretend everything was fine between them. She shrugged and decided to let it go. After all, she was the expert of being fine with all sorts of things.
"Hi," she said to make him aware of her presence. Since she was a little unsure of his reasons for paging her, she resisted the lust to ramble nervously and waited for him to respond.
"Hi," he replied when he looked up at her. "How's the prepping going?"
"It's fine," Meredith nodded. "I've just ordered Andrew's preoperative photos. They had a free spot right before lunch, so I'm taking him any minute. Otherwise he seems fine apart from hunger." She smiled a little. "It's not easy being nine months and not getting to eat whenever you feel like it."
"No," Derek said. "It's not." But he didn't return her smile, and she found that hers faded at the sight of his solemn expression. She could see that he'd missed a spot when he'd shaved this morning and it made him look shabby, if only ever so little. Usually she hated the way his stubble scraped against her face when they kissed but now she had to fight against the urge to lean in and kiss that rough slide of bristle. She didn't dare to.
"Derek?" she said at last. She weighed between asking him what was wrong and keeping the conversation professional to avoid any sensitive subject he might dwell on. "Did you want me to do anything else or should I go back to Andrew?" she decided at last. Being professional seemed safer.
Derek shook his head. "No, it's fine. I don't need anything." He hesitated. "But Meredith..." He looked at her, as to assess her mood before saying anything. She tried to keep a neutral face, even though she was pretty sure of what was coming. "You don't need to do this," he continued, just as she'd known. "It's only your second day back, and if you want to observe, if you want to take some time, not deal with any pressure... Mer, everyone will understand. It'll be okay."
She sighed. So there they went again. Why did it seem that no matter how many times she tried to tell him that she was fine and that she did want to work, to feel normal, he returned again, and again, and again? Why couldn't he just get that she was over whatever happened in that water and that she was trying to move on? She knew she was supposed to tell him a lot of things, she did, but his constant pushing somehow had the opposite effect. She was surprised at her own stubbornness but she simply wouldn't let him win this one. And then there was that whole knot in her stomach that kept telling her that he under no circumstances would stay if she did tell him. She closed her eyes. She had absolutely no energy to deal with this right now. There were enough ghosts and voices inside her head as it was at the moment.
"You're hovering again," she said tiredly, not looking at Derek. She couldn't take this dead end conversation for what felt like the millionth time over just a few days. She didn't think she could manage putting up a bright smile, fake or not, to protect herself from that sad puppy face Derek had been so good at lately. So she looked down at the floor.
"No." She looked up again at the sound of Derek's voice so forceful. She hadn't heard him like that since she died and she'd gotten so used to the quiet, concerned one that her heart did a little flip-flop. "No," Derek repeated. Meredith could see that even if sadness hadn't fully vanished, there was something else to his features. "I'm not hovering Meredith, and if I am, it's because I am concerned about you."
"Which is it, Derek?" Meredith asked sarcastically. "Are you hovering or not? Because your sentence makes no sense." She regretted her words immediately as she had said them and she saw the look on his face. Great, Meredith. Now you cavil. Very mature. But she found that she couldn't take them back; she couldn't even wash the stern look off her face like she actually wanted to.
Derek threw his arms in the air, seemingly at a loss for words. "I'm not... " And then his face got that closed, determined look again. "Forget it, Meredith. I try to help you. You know what I said to you as recent as this morning. I want to be there for you. I asked you to not close me out. But that's exactly what you're doing. You don't trust me. And I... I don't know if I can... " He hesitated. "If I can... " He shook his head, "Just forget I asked."
Meredith bit her lip when he saw his resigned face. It had lost all of its determination and she thought that they probably matched each other in exhaustion right now. "Derek, I... it's not that I don't trust you."
"It isn't?" he said tiredly and even before he questioned her, Meredith could tell that he knew it wasn't true. Because it really wasn't. "It doesn't matter that I've tried for almost a year to prove to you that you can trust me, you still don't, Meredith."
Meredith wanted to reply, but found herself having gone mute for the moment. Somehow, Derek's last statement didn't seem right. He hadn't tried to prove his trustworthiness for almost a year. In fact, you could say he'd spent the last year constantly trying to break her trust. First with the hidden wife. Then with the choosing of the wife. By calling her a whore. By walking away for the better guy.
"Maybe I don't trust you because you don't trust me." She was almost as surprised as Derek looked when the words were out. But she knew they were true. She took a deep breath. "You don't let me be strong on my own. I was perfectly fine on my own before I met you. I coped. I have always coped and I am not fragile as you seem to have got into your head."
"Perfectly fine?" Derek asked with raised eyebrows. "You were perfectly fine?" Meredith suspected that was meant to make her look down at her feet again, but something rose in her chest and she stared him straight into the eyes.
"Yes, Derek. I was fine. And I know I overuse that word, but sometimes I actually am fine, no matter what you try to imply. And you doubting me these times? Doesn't make it any better, Derek. Life may have handed me crappy cards, but trying to deal with them isn't exactly easier with you not trusting me being able to do it."
Derek shook his head and muttered something under his breath. Meredith thought it sounded suspiciously like something about a track record with not dealing at all, and that fed the little monster inside her chest even more. At first she didn't even care how his voice had taken a broken edge to it as he spoke again.
"You walk away, Meredith. You do it constantly. I'm walking on ice here. Don't you think I know you want me to keep my mouth and pretend I don't see your pain? Don't you think I know that if I push you one inch too much, you're gonna walk away?"
Meredith stared at Derek, his shattered tone now echoing in her head. Those were her feelings. Not his. She wasn't walking. But he would if she told him some of the things she'd been keeping to herself pretty much her whole life. And his ability to steer the conversation just to those things she wanted to avoid was absolutely stupendous. She knew he was looking at her, maybe not with his usual concerned gaze, but at least with some worry behind that veil of suppressed anger that still lingered. She tried to maintain whatever hold she still had on that strength she'd claimed just a couple of minutes ago, but going by his face, she wondered if she actually didn't look just as fragile as he obviously pictured her. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her and it made her face flush. She never intended to make him feel like this.
"Derek, I..." she began, oblivious to him having said her name a couple of times. She searched desperately in her memory for something to tell him, something that would make him feel a little included. She would have to figure out the rest later. But her mind was blank. She couldn't recall one single memory, neither good nor bad, and she started to panic. She saw Derek's expression soften and that made her if possible even more pressed.
"Meredith. I guess we're probably both at fault here," she heard him say, but she shook her head violently. This was all on her. She'd failed to communicate. Once again. She'd thought all there was to his behavior was a little streak of savior complex. How stupid could she get? She felt her chest contract and she recognized the shallow breaths from yesterday. She had to get out of here. She couldn't take his sympathy right now.
She turned around and started to make her way out of the office. She heard Derek follow her, but she quickened her pace until she was running blindly towards the nearest supply closet she knew about. Pressing herself down in the far corner between a shelf of supplies and a small bench, she felt the treacherous tears she'd managed to keep in until now fall down her cheeks. He was angry at her again. And she deserved it.
-----
Looking around the cafeteria, Meredith tried to catch a glimpse of any of her friends. After standing on her toes, knowing that she should feel ridiculous but being too tired to care, she finally saw Alex and Izzie sitting at a table near the back. She pushed her way over and sank down next to Izzie. She had been sitting in the supply closet for a good twenty minutes, somehow desperately wanting Derek's shoulder to rest on, yet anxiously watching the door in fear of him walking in. She had run round the bathroom to make sure she didn't look too red and blotched and hoped her face no longer bore evidence of her embarrassing, stupid tears. In an attempt to make her think about something that didn't have to do with Derek, her mother or the increasing number of failures in her life, she turned to Izzie.
"Hey, Iz, how does it feel being back in the game again?" She poked at the lettuce leaves of her green salad and pushed a shrunken tomato slice aside. She felt slightly stupid for not having asked Izzie earlier; after all, today was already her second day as a full worthy intern again, but yesterday hadn't really provided any spare room for thoughts of that. "Even Callie asked about you before," she added, suddenly remembering the hesitant question Callie had blurted just before she had left the room after Julie's exam yesterday. "I thought you two couldn't stand each other." As Izzie hadn't exactly been easy on Callie since her marriage to George, any concern from Callie's side was pretty unexpected and Meredith had been a little surprised.
Izzie looked up from her sandwich. "Callie asked about me?" she said cautiously. "What did she... I mean... did she... " She broke off, and Meredith followed her glance, seeing George standing in the middle of the cafeteria just like she had done a couple of minutes ago. Izzie opened her mouth, but before she had called him over, George lightened up and made his way to a table not so long from where they were sitting, taking his seat next to Callie. "Right. Just abandon your friends," Izzie mumbled and shot him an annoyed look. She looked back at Meredith, throwing her long hair back. "Umm... how's it going? Fine. It's going fine. Not rock star fine, but still... At least I get to talk to patients again."
"Fine? You'd better hope it's not Meredith fine," Alex chipped in.
Meredith frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" Alex just shrugged and took a bite of his pizza slice. Before Meredith got an answer, Izzie bent forward over the table, looking at them.
"Seriously, he sees Callie all nights and he's working with her. He can't even make it to lunch with us? Seriously?"
"I wouldn't say all nights, Izzie. He's on call, she's on call..." Meredith said. "Why do you care anyway? He's happy with her, that's good, right?"
"I'm his best friend and in my opinion he made a huge mistake," Izzie explained impatiently. "And while you and Cristina might live in your own little bubble, being fine..." She trailed off, scrutinizing Meredith. "Or not fine. How are you holding up?"
Meredith was on the verge of the magic words again, but remembering yesterday's conversation in the hallway, she merely shrugged and forced a small smile. Izzie shot her a concerned glance and looked like she wanted to say something, making Meredith quickly turn to Alex. "How's Jane Doe doing?"
"Yeah, she's hanging in there," Alex answered. "Pretty bruised and all, but Sloan's gonna fix her."
"But she's still Jane Doe? Nobody claimed her yet?"
Alex shook his head and took a gulp of water. "I guess it's not easy recognizing anybody so messed up, but once she's fixed we can put her picture out there."
Meredith sighed. "It can't be easy, being here all by yourself. But at least she's a grown-up. My patient's twelve and her mother didn't visit her yesterday and is barely making the effort of coming here to pick her up later." She chewed on a carrot stick. "The girl actually insisted on us not bothering her with a call when she came in."
"She might be working," Izzie suggested. "Not everyone can get off work instantly. I had a patient whose mother had to leave her alone here for a graveyard shift at a truck stop diner. It's not easy, but what're you supposed to do?" She shrugged, feeling Meredith's eyes on her. "I'm just saying, not everyone comes from upper middle class. That might be the reason."
Meredith gnawed thoughtfully on her third carrot stick, considering Izzie's perspective. While Julie had made it pretty clear to her that it indeed was about her mother's work, she somehow had a feeling it wasn't all about being able to pay this month's rent. Julie's small voice telling her she didn't like being alone home played in her mind and she wondered if she'd been picked up yet. She stirred as Cristina slid down in the seat next to her, rolling her eyes at the noodles at her plate.
"Okay, seriously, what is it with weddings that make people go crazy over every little detail? I mean, do I care how my hair is done or which color my flowers will have?" Cristina impatiently pulled up her black hair in a messy ponytail, emphasizing what she just said.
Meredith quirked an eyebrow. "Well, if you don't care, let Burke decide. What does he want anyway?"
"What does he want?" Cristina stared at her. "What does he not want, rather. He has opinions about everything – the dress, the flowers, the freaking cake, for gods sake. I mean, cream or raspberry, chocolate or frosting, I don't care. I probably won't eat it anyway for all those people he wants to invite will track me down the whole evening."
Meredith sighed. "I'm avoiding Derek. I mean, not avoiding, really. Just... not communicating."
"Yeah," Cristina said, taking a break from her not so silent cursing of everything connected with weddings, apparently coming to think of their broken off relationship sharing at Joe's the past night. "How did it go with dead mommy anyway?"
Meredith saw Izzie give them a sharp glance. "Um," she said. "That. Well, it was... She told me a lot of things. Gave me relationship advice, even."
"Huh. So I guess something happened to packing with closed eyes. Told you you would've needed me to take a first look." Cristina took a swig out of her water bottle.
"Um, right," Meredith replied faintly. "And now there's the avoiding of Derek. I mean the non-communication. And he just wants to talk. I don't get why he wants to know all my crap." She sighed, only to find three pairs of eyes staring at her. "What?"
Izzie shook her head, ignoring to state the obvious answer to Meredith's question. Having stopped glaring at George and Callie at the other table, she sat up a little straighter. "Now, about tonight... Everybody's still on, I hope?" Alex and Cristina mumbled in agreement but Meredith frowned.
"What's tonight?"
Izzie looked at her as if she was out of her mind for even asking such a question when she obviously should know the answer. "Study night. I was trying to remind you this morning. We've got intern exams coming up all too soon, if you've managed to forget that."
Meredith's eyes widened at the until now pretty much pushed away thought of taking her exam just in a couple of weeks' time. She definitely needed to study. But she was in no way up for a long night with her friends. Derek could help her study. If he would show up after today, that was. Or she could just roll up in her bed and pretend that going to bed at eight o'clock was the perfectly normal and sane thing to do. She was just about to tell her friends no when Izzie went on.
"Anyway, I was thinking... couldn't we make it a slumber party?" Izzie beamed expectantly at the others. Cristina stared at her, clearly trying to comprehend what was going on inside of her head and Alex had slightly raised an eyebrow. Once again, Meredith attempted to say that wasn't gonna happen, but Izzie wasn't finished. "I thought it could be a great thing, you know. All of us... the five of us," she emphasized casting an annoyed glare in George's direction. "Quizzing each other, hanging out. I can cook!"
Meredith blinked at the enthusiasm that poured from Izzie. She wasn't sure if this was yet an attempt from her side to avoid being alone with Alex, or a way of getting George away from Callie, or if it was an actual sincere wish to slave in the kitchen. She looked at Cristina for support, but before she could say anything, Cristina flinched and glared exasperatedly at Izzie over the table.
"Ouch! What... " She broke off and Meredith was just able to catch the significant glance and the small tilt of Izzie's head. Cristina sighed loudly. "Fine. I can eat food. And quizzing could be fun. Although I'm gonna kick your pathetic little asses all the way down the exam hall."
"Yay," squealed Izzie and turned her attention to Alex.
"Whatever," he said after giving up on trying to decipher what she was aiming at with her intense gaze. "I'll be home studying anyway."
Izzie nodded satisfactorily. "I'll tell George," she said as if everything was set. Meredith cleared her throat.
"Izzie, I don't think..." she began, but trailed off when she once again noticed the looks between her two girlfriends. If she hadn't known better, she would call them conspiratorial. It was kind of unlikely though. Izzie and Cristina weren't talking a great lot when she wasn't around. And since she hadn't told Cristina anything of yesterday except for the little something just a few minutes ago, and considering that Izzie hadn't known she was going, they hadn't really had that much of an opportunity to exchange any details.
"Think of it as a way of avoiding McDreamy," Cristina suggested lightly and Meredith winced. Even though not having to deal with their fight seemed tempting, she knew that avoiding Derek even more was the last thing she should be doing. But studying was a reasonable excuse. One he couldn't coax her out of. If he now did bother to show. Deciding that anything was better than sitting in the house alone and wait for him only to realize he wouldn't come, and being too tired to argue anymore, she finally gave in.
"Okay." She tossed a glance behind her and caught sight of Derek taking the cafeteria floor in long strides. Not daring to look at any of the others, she rose from her chair after hastily deciding to abandon the last of her lettuce and pick up a Hershey's bar instead. "I really need to head back to the pit," she mumbled. "See you guys later."
Izzie's triumphant expression was replaced with a concerned one as she saw Meredith leave. "If you need a ride home, just page me, okay?" she called after her.
The only sign that Meredith had heard was a slightly raised hand waved in Izzie's direction before her messy ponytail vanished out of sight.
-----
Meredith nodded a silent thank you at the lab technician handing her the lab work she'd ordered earlier. She eyed them quickly. Everything seemed to be in order. Derek and Mark should be able to go on with the procedure without any delays. She stifled a yawn and wondered what she was supposed to do now. The surgery was not until 3 and Andrew didn't need to be prepped until the last half hour or so. The best thing she could do was reading up a little on the cranial vault reconstruction so she wouldn't be standing like an idiot in the O.R. Folding Andrew's lab scans, she headed towards the nurses' station to use the computer for her research. The activity around it had decreased a little, but there was still people surrounding it, throwing questions and demands at the nurses. A tall woman in a deep green woollen coat whose designer Meredith guessed Addison would be able to identify at once stood at the far side of the counter.
"Look, I'm supposed to pick up my daughter," she said sharply to a young nurse that seemed more than a little intimidated at the sight of her efficient manner. "I don't know which room she's in and I guess it's a lot to ask you to tell me that?"
Meredith slipped the labs into Andrew's chart and after putting it in its place again, she walked over to the woman. She had a suspicion just whose daughter was in question here.
"Excuse me," she said vacuously . "Are you looking for Julie Fowler?"
The woman turned around to face her, her eyes expectant. Meredith tried not to feel dwarfed when she towered over her in all her elegance. "Yes. Do you mean you actually can tell me where she is? In opposite to some people, I haven't got all day." She cast the nurse a meaning glance and Meredith gave her an apologetic grimace.
"Mrs. Fowler, I'm Dr. Grey. We spoke on the phone yesterday. If you come with me, I'll take you to see Julie. She's been waiting for you." Meredith saw something glimmer in the woman's eyes at the mention of the phone call, but she said nothing about it. "If you'll excuse me for a minute, I'll go get her discharge papers and she'll be good to go."
She leaned over the desk and asked the nervous nurse for the required paperwork. No one spoke until Meredith had the papers in her hand and they started walking towards Julie's room. Meredith waited for Mrs. Fowler to ask how Julie was doing, but seeing as nothing came, she cleared her throat.
"Julie's gonna be fine with a few days of rest. The fell was pretty scary for her and she has some minor injuries, but nothing that won't pass eventually." She hesitated. "She's gonna need to stay home from school for a couple of days and it would be good if she had someone with her then."
"Great -- as if I already didn't have my hands full with her," Mrs. Fowler said exasperatedly. Meredith's unease from talking to her over the phone and from the talk with Julie crept up her spine again. She noticed an empty wheelchair as they rounded the corner and remembering hospital policies, she took it with her as they went.
"She's a good kid," she said quietly. "She's smart. Maybe she needs a little attention, but she's a good kid, staying out of trouble." Suddenly she really wanted to convince Mrs. Fowler of this before they got into Julie's room. Mrs. Fowler's raised eyebrows did nothing to reassure her she was succeeding though.
"How do you know that?" she questioned. "She's definitely not staying out of trouble." She laughed harshly. "I am a single mom, I work my ass off to pay for everything. Do you think she's appreciating that? She's always asking for more than I can give her."
"Did you know she didn't want us to call you yesterday?" Meredith asked, trying to stay calm. "Suggesting that made her beside herself for having to interrupt you at work. That doesn't strike me as selfish." If anything, it struck her as an act not belonging in a happy, well-adjusted kid.
"That just means she was ashamed of having to once again admit her clumsiness. Seriously, could she have had worse timing than this? I'm in the middle of an important negotiation, which she very well knows."
Meredith tried to shut out the obvious parallels to her mother's attitude, she really did, but somehow she couldn't stop herself. "I just think she feels like nothing she does is worth your attention," she blurted. Mrs. Fowler's eyes were like ice when she looked at her.
"If you are trying to imply that this somehow would be on me..."
"She didn't do this to hurt you," Meredith said, trying to hide her impatience. "But you're her mother and Julie worships the ground you walk on. She's in desperate need of your unconditional attention." She wished she had a little more time, but they had reached Julie's room and without even so much as a glance at Meredith, Mrs. Fowler stepped inside. Meredith followed suit and caught the turmoil of emotions that flashed over Julie's face as she looked up and saw her mother.
"Hi, mom," she said, her voice a strange mix of shy and happy. She cast a glance at Meredith but turned directly to her mother again, as if to read something in her face. Meredith's heart almost broke at the sight of her uncertain smile.
"Are you ready?" Mrs. Fowler asked her daughter without offering a smile in return. "The sooner we can get out of here, the better." Julie's smile faltered but she nodded and she stood up a little clumsily while she tried to handle her arm's collar.
"I have your discharge papers, Julie," Meredith said. "I'm just gonna sign them and you'll be good to go." She smiled warmly at her patient and took a pen from her pocket and began signing off all the boxes labeled M.D. Nobody said anything and she felt the tension between mother and daughter.
"Mrs. Fowler, I'm sure you're wondering about Julie's injuries," she said in an attempt to break it as she helped Julie down in the wheelchair and started walking towards the elevators with her. She was careful to maintain a polite tone and carried on before Mrs. Fowler had time to actually answer. "She has a brain concussion, which we have kept an eye on overnight and which seems to be under control. She also has a broken collarbone, so we have given her a collar-n-cuff."
Mrs. Fowler merely nodded. "Is there anything particular she should think of?" she asked indifferently.
"Well, we'll schedule a check-up in a week," Meredith replied. "Until then, she shouldn't participate in gym class. She should stay home from school a couple of days to get some rest and let her head heal." Entering the elevator and pushing the ground floor button, she looked straight at Mrs Fowler. "As we spoke about before, we strongly recommend that someone stays with Julie when she's at home. The brain concussion shouldn't be a problem, but there are always risks with brain injuries that can't be predicted. A little dizziness, nausea and fatigue are common and any increase of these symptoms could indicate damage that we haven't seen. Therefore, it's important that Julie has someone to supervise her until we can write that off." Meredith tried to put emphasis on her words, but she waited in vain for Mrs. Fowler's reaction and walking out of the elevator, the moment was gone. As soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, a shrilling melody went off and Mrs. Fowler efficiently flipped her phone open and took some quick steps aside to talk undistractedly.
Meredith wheeled Julie to the exit and parked the chair. The girl squirmed uncomfortable where she sat and didn't dare to look at neither Meredith nor her mother. Meredith sensed her embarrassment and squatted down on the floor so that she came eye to eye with her.
"Julie," she said gently. "Listen to me, okay? You did really great yesterday when you came into the E.R, being here all by yourself." She paused and waited until Julie lift her head and met her gaze.
"You were good to talk to," she whispered. "It made it easier."
Meredith cast a glance at Mrs. Fowler who stood with her back at them and leaned against Julie somewhat conspiratorially. "I made my mother get me a cat." Julie looked bewildered at her and Meredith looked her straight in the face. "I knew she wouldn't agree to a dog. Too much responsibility. But she caved in to a cat. It was good company." She wanted to say more, but she knew it was time to let them go. She couldn't do anymore for Julie. She stood up and checked the chart to make sure she hadn't missed anything.
"Are you ready?" she heard Mrs. Fowler ask as she approached them, apparently eager to get going. Julie nodded and stood up from the wheelchair, her movements a little unsure and slow. Instead of walking over to the door, however, she turned to Meredith.
"Dr. Grey... can I give you a hug?" she asked shyly.
"Of course, sweetie," Meredith replied and hugged her, careful not to touch her injured arm. She felt a stream of hot breath and a quiet thank you against her ear as Julie's arm a little clumsily embraced her back, and for some reason she felt incredibly sad.
Julie loosened herself and walked over to her mother, who without so much as a glance backwards hurried through the doors. Julie turned, however, and Meredith did a little wave with her hand.
"Take care, Julie," she said, and Julie nodded a little before she turned and followed her mother. Meredith stood and watched them go, hating the feeling of helplessness that left her with.
-----
It didn't matter how hard she tried. Staring all she had at the papers she had printed, Meredith was still unable to focus on the text. She felt like everything she was doing -- moving, thinking, talking -- she was doing it in slow motion. Luckily, she was alone for the moment and didn't need to fake any kind of fineness. She shifted positions where she sat on the old gurney in the abandoned hallway and pulled up her knees to her chest. She really had to learn this. Maybe if she tried to break the surgery down in steps? Make a zigzag incision from ear to not to picture Julie's face, or Derek's face, or your mother's face. Place Leroy clips to curtail bleeding and peel back the scalp. Don't think of lonely late nights with loud music and a thousand watts worth of electricity. Drill the pilot holes into the skull and separate the skull into pieces. Put aside just which memories could be appropriate to tell Derek. Reshape the pieces and fit them back together with sutures and screws. Close out the voice of your mother. Use bone proteins to fill the gaps from the expanded skull. Don't recall Derek's accusations. Remove the scalp clips and close the incision.
"Everything okay?" Meredith, having abandoned the text once again and staring blankly out in the air, jumped at the sound of a voice near her ear. Alex flopped down next to her at the gurney and threw her a bag of chips, most likely from the machine down the hall. "So what are you doing down here?"
Meredith shrugged but started tearing at the edges and fishing up some. "Prepping for Sloan's surgery," she replied with a sigh. "You?"
Alex waved a little with the heavy book in his hand. "Had some time and really need to cover cardio."
Meredith merely nodded and stared at the papers in her lap again. Peel back the scalp...
"Hey." Alex's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "Are you sure you're alright?" She sighed again. She was sick and tired of that question, even if she maybe invited to it a lot more than she was willing to admit. But she couldn't really just shrug it off and say she was fine. Not to Alex. She stared down at her shoes, pretending to count the ribs at the edges. "It's just that you seemed to feel a little strongly about your patient earlier," he continued.
She looked at him, surprised that he had picked up on that. "Um... you mean... " She tried to think of what words to use to describe Julie to him, but he was faster.
"The one with the mother. Yeah." He made an apologetic grimace. "Sorry. I just figured... you know, with what happened yesterday and all. It seemed that you related." Meredith looked down again, not sure of what to answer him. He was probably worried she was gonna go all Izzie and get too emotionally attached. And she knew she had been about to.
"I guess I sort of did," she admitted quietly. "And now..."
"Now you're hiding," Alex said, once again finishing her sentence for her.
"No," Meredith said, but she knew she didn't sound too convincing. "I needed to study. I've never even seen a reconstruction like this before."
"So what about the nice, cosy offices upstairs with computers and all research you could ask for?" Alex said and nudged her softly in her side, his eyes twinkling a little.
"It's quiet down here. No people."
"And no Shepherd?" Again, Meredith looked at him in surprise. Alex held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just drawing my own conclusions here. Abandoned hallway seems like a good place to not communicate." He reached over her and grabbed a fistful from the bag. His crunches were loud and broke the silence like Meredith didn't know how to.
"Well, Derek's not here," she nodded at last. "And that's... good." She hesitated, but Alex didn't say anything. "He's kinda mad at me."
"For not calling him yesterday?"
"No. Yes. Sort of." Meredith swallowed. "For... apparently, I'm not... letting him in."
"Well, do you?" Alex raised an eyebrow at her questioning look. "You said apparently. So is it according to him, or according to you?"
Meredith thought about this for a moment. She was astonished over how quickly Alex had gotten hold of the essentials in what she was trying to say, but she didn't know if she really had the answer. "It's... He let me understand that," she mumbled. "But it's true. I don't really... tell him things. And yesterday... " She broke off. "Now I'm doing it again," she said with a humorless little laugh. "Telling you. Telling my friends. Not him."
"Why?" The simple question made Meredith feel a little unsettled. There was no accusation in Alex's voice, no judgment or resentment. Just genuine curiosity. And what he was asking was justified. Meredith just didn't know how to explain it.
She looked defensively at Alex. "I've never done this before. You know. The relationship thing. Where you share. And it's just... What if he walks away?" There. She had said it. Aired her most secret fear that she just recently had admitted to herself, but that she knew always had been there, pocking and nagging on every little feeling she'd ever allowed herself to experience in this relationship. "I know I'm the one that walks away," she tried to joke. "I mean, look at my record. I even died on him. I..."
Alex held up his hands. "Whoa, wait. He's mad at you for that? For dying?" His voice was quiet, but had an dangerous edge to it, one that she guessed Derek wouldn't want to further acquaint himself with. She bit her lip.
"No," she said quickly. "But my point is, I'm the one with abandonment issues. Of course I think he'll leave me. Right? I mean... he did leave me for his wife. When we were great. And now... if I tell him..." She quieted, not sure of how to make sense of her incoherent speech. "Alex, yesterday was ugly," she said at last. "My childhood was ugly. My mother..." She looked at him. His eyes told her what she'd known already; she didn't have to say anything else. Unlike Derek, whose childhood memories surely consisted mostly of happy Christmas dinners and motherly concern and at the most one or another fight with his sisters, Alex knew. "He says all those things," she mumbled. "About forever and about sharing and about opening up. But if I actually do... he'll regret it. He doesn't wanna know."
Alex had watched her intently while she spoke. He dragged his hand through his short hair and seemed to contemplate what she'd said. "So you think he'll walk away if you tell him. That it'll be bad. That he can't take it." Meredith nodded for each statement, Alex's matter-of-fact tone making her feel a little less like a little child about to be patted on the head. "So, how bad are things now?" She blinked at the sudden turn from confirmation to the blunt interrogation. "When you don't tell him?"
"Um..." she stuttered. She felt almost too overwhelmed to think, but of course Alex had once again hit too close to home. "Not great," she admitted quietly. "I push him away. He can't take that. He and his savior complex. He said..." She swallowed. "He said he doesn't trust me. That he thinks I will walk away again. That I'm not in... this." She waved vaguely with her hands in an attempt to visualize whatever this was meant to cover.
"Seems to me like you two have some talking to do," Alex stated dryly. "Seriously, Mer, I can't advice you here. It's not like I'm sharing stuff. But... I think you'll want him to know. You want this guy. And if telling him means he breaks up with you... well, it seems like not telling him will do the same. Maybe he can't share it with you. But if you don't tell him... he'll never get the chance to prove to you that he can handle it."
Meredith bit her lip. She hadn't really thought about it that way before. She fidgeted with her wristwatch in an attempt to make some use of her hands, that she suddenly didn't know where to put. Alex crumpled up the now empty bag of chips, took aim and threw a perfect shot into the bin a couple of yards away. He smiled triumphantly, but became solemn again almost at once.
"I'm not particularly fond of the guy," he said flatly. "Not after what he did to you. But he's not gonna walk away." Meredith looked at him in surprise. "There are two reasons," Alex went on. "One, and now I sound like a chick, he's all over you. A blind could see there's no one else for him. And two, he's not that kind of a guy. Now, I, I could leave. I leave when it's difficult. But Derek... he's an honorable man. He'll stick by." He shrugged.
Meredith closed her eyes. She wanted so to believe in Alex's words. She wanted to be sure. To know what was right. To know what was gonna happen if she told him. "I'm scared," she said in a little voice that brought back the feeling of being a child again, begging for comfort.
Alex touched her shoulder. "I know," he just said, and somehow, he didn't need to elaborate. He knew. She rested her head against his shoulder and they sat in silence for a couple of peaceful minutes. Meredith's exhaustion from before popped up its head again and she almost dozed off where she sat. When Alex carefully shifted positions, she stirred and sat up straight. Her mouth felt somewhat dry and she licked her lips and looked absently down on the research papers in her hands. Surgery. Crap. What time was it?
"Dammit, Alex," she hissed. "I was supposed to begin prepping my patient five minutes ago. I need to... " She stood up quickly and hurriedly shoved her papers into a messy heap. She took a few steps towards the stairs, then turned and looked at Alex.
"Thanks," she said earnestly. "For letting me talk."
"Hey," he answered. "Being scared means you have something to lose, right?"
-----
The snapping sound echoed in the O.R. Meredith saw that some of the younger nurses flinched at the sight of Mark's fingers forcing the baby's skull bone to bend, cracking the small bones inside of it. She didn't, however. Her exhaustion during the day was forgotten due to the intense surgery that had taken place before her eyes the last four hours.
"Why are we causing the patient these greenstick fractures, Grey?" Mark asked without looking up from what he was doing.
"It will help to stop the flow of the blood," Meredith said. "It helps the reconstruction process."
"You've done your homework," Mark observed. Meredith smiled under her surgical mask. She had been a little nervous to go in to the procedure, feeling unusually unprepared than what she knew she should be. But in some way or another, what she had read in the hallway before Alex's appearance had stuck to her brain and she had been able to follow the surgery without any trouble.
Mark folded the baby's scalp back onto the skull and studied his work carefully. "Take a look," he said. "Does he look symmetrical to you?"
Meredith looked intently at the baby's new face. It was round and flat in opposite to before, when the forehead had pointed outwards and the eyes had been too close together. Mark and Derek had reshaped the skull and remodeled the bones surrounding the orbit. There was an enormous difference and she could tell the satisfaction of everybody in the room as nobody broke the admiring silence to answer Mark's question. He however, frowned a little, going round the table to take a better look at the child's face from all possible angles.
"Here," he said, pointing to the child's left temple. "A little more BMP here." He peeled the yet loose skin flap back again and applied the protein used to hold together the skull fragments. "There." He looked up. "Will you close, Dr. Grey?"
Meredith smiled in surprise. Mark wasn't known for letting interns do anymore than the bare grunt work, if only that. But she was delighted at the opportunity no matter the reason and stepped forward, letting one of the scrub nurses take over the clamp that she'd been holding. Mark nodded at her and left the O.R., leaving Derek to supervise her.
Carefully, she started to remove the scalp clips that had been used to reduce any bleeding when opening the skull up. Her head whirled with all the question Mark or Derek had posed her during the procedure, and pride that she'd been able to answer them all. Why do we use Leroy clips, Dr. Grey? Because cauterization won't leave a pretty scar when the wound heals. She tossed the last of the clips onto the sterilization tray a nurse held in front of her and started suturing the zigzag incision Mark had made from ear to ear across the top of the little boy's head.
She glanced up at Derek who was standing at the other side of the table. He was supposed to be focusing on the monitors that kept track of Andrew's vitals, or perhaps on the trail she was creating with her tiny sutures. Instead she caught him scrutinizing her while she worked. Not her fingers, not her sutures, but her face. She blushed and hoped that it hadn't been visible under the surgical mask. She'd spent the greater part of the surgery considering what Alex had said while stealing hidden glances at Derek and covering behind the mask of a confident surgeon, it was surprisingly easy to convince herself of confidence also in her private life. Alex had been right. Not telling him would make him walk away sooner or later. And if there was a chance that telling him prevented that, she had to take it. Damn it, she was in this. It had to wait, though. A two minutes conversation in the hallway or the scrub room didn't seem the right place to spring her past on him. At the actual thought of her past, she shuddered and forced herself not to go further down memory lane.
"I'm done, Dr. Shepherd," she said after a couple of minutes just concentrating on the patient, and looked down at the closed wound trailing over Andrew's head. She had intentionally stressed his title to mark that she preferred being professional on hospital grounds. She was usually eager to maintain their working relationship without throwing their private one into the mix, but at some occasions that was harder than at others. Today, after the disastrous scene earlier where they certainly hadn't called each other doctors, it seemed important to keep the distance, and she knew more than actually saw that Derek let his gaze shift focus from her face to her work. She waited anxiously for his opinion. Had she been attentive enough?
"Excellent, Dr. Grey," he said calmly. "Good work, everyone," he directed at the nurses left in the O.R. "He's ready to be taken to the PICU." The nurses started to unhook Andrew from some of the monitors and remove the surgical drapes and Meredith and Derek slowly made their way out to the scrub room, throwing their gowns and gloves into the bin.
Derek didn't say anything as they carefully scrubbed their hands and that made Meredith unsure of what he was thinking. Was he still mad at her? Disappointed? She felt her confidence slip away from her together with the water that rinsed her hands and she bit her lip. She had to say something to him, or she would lose her courage.
"Derek?" she said hesitantly. "I... um, I think we need to talk." She chanced a quick glance at him and went on without waiting for an answer. "And I know that our last conversation didn't exactly work out and I... I'm sorry for... " She broke off, not really knowing what she was sorry for. Making you feel unwanted. Destroying you. Everything. "Anyway," she said nervously. "I... know I'm not big on the talking thing and that you probably hate me right now and that you..."
"Meredith," he said softly. "I don't hate you. I never could." He gave her a look so rich with feelings she couldn't begin to separate them from each other. "And I'm sorry too. I didn't want to make you upset earlier."
Meredith looked into his eyes, almost losing focus from trying not to give in for the urge to just lean into him and not have awkward talks. But she straightened up. "No," she said. "You don't get to be sorry. You were honest with me. And I think I could spend the rest of this night to keep coming up with synonyms to how sorry I am for causing you all that pain." She took a breath. "But I'm not going to, because we need to talk. And I need to be honest with you."
Derek seemed like he wanted to say something, but he merely nodded and she bit her lip. She knew what she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure of his reaction.
"It's just... You must believe me when I say I'm fine with what happened to me in the water. I really am, and you not believing me is disconcerting. I really try to enjoy my second chance here." She held up a hand when he tried to interrupt her. "Wait. I know it's easy for you to think otherwise, and I know that after last night, it must seem even more unlikely. But that wasn't about that."
She knew she had started out with the not so great part. The frown on his face confirmed that it had been the more accusing part than the sharing part, so she licked her lips, not really daring to look at him and hesitated, careful with what words she chose.
"Yesterday was rough, Derek. I got an unexpected wave of mommy memories splashed into my face, and it was... it was kind of bad. I'm not proud of how it made me feel. And me not wanting to talk about it, it's not you. It's my way of not letting them struck me twice in one night. I couldn't do it, Derek, and I might have been too tired to resist yesterday, had you really tried to make me." She quieted, not sure if she'd said too much or if it had been the right thing to tell him, and chewed on her lip until it must be white and almost rubbed raw.
Derek's face was attentive and his eyes were resting on her mouth, as if he hadn't heard her stop talking and was expecting more. "I'm sorry, Meredith," he said at last, clearing his throat. "I don't want to make things worse for you." He hesitated and Meredith could hear how he threaded carefully not to say the wrong thing. "Even though I wish you felt you could tell me everything, you don't have to. But telling me nothing sets my imagination, you know." He gave her a wry smile. "And not the lusty, horny one."
Meredith snorted. Derek smiled broader before continuing.
"You don't have to tell me. But it seems like memories that make you feel that bad maybe will hurt you less if you talked about them. I'm just saying maybe here, Mer," he added when he saw her expression. "It's up to you."
Meredith nodded slowly. She felt relieved. She had said something, and Derek hadn't paled with discomfort, or changed subjects. And he hadn't prodded either. Maybe what he said was true. She knew she should. To let him in.
"Maybe," she said after taking a deep breath. "Maybe, Derek. Maybe I feel brave enough to tell you. It's just... tonight, I really need to study for the intern exam. And Izzie insisted on transforming our study session to a slumber party. With food." She gave him a resigned look at the mere thought of such an idea and he grinned.
"Slumber parties make bad places for private talks," he agreed, looking both happy and a little disappointed at once. "We can talk later, okay? Aren't you off tomorrow? I have the morning free. How about I take you out for breakfast?"
Breakfast. That sounded safe. Like something a couple would do. A happy, steady, committed couple.
"Okay," she said, feeling suddenly lighthearted. She felt like she could have been standing just looking at him for God knows how long if she hadn't caught sight of the clock on the wall in the O.R. "Oh my God. I'm really late for the study... slumber whatever. Izzie's gonna kill me if I don't get going." She backed out of the scrub room, not taking her eyes from him until she had to turn around to walk out in the hallway.
"Meredith?" he called after her just as she was about to close the door. She turned and looked at him expectantly. He smiled reassuringly. "You did good today."