A/N: Sorry for how short this chapter is, but I wanted to get something up.
Derek and I never do make it to our room. Due to the exhaustion on both our parts and my inebriation, we fall asleep in our clothing on the couch, surrounded by the garbage of the party. Early in the morning, George swings into the living room, waking us up and offering to get coffee. Neither Derek nor I move but when George comes back with two mugs, I lift up one had to take it. All three of us our silent due to our combination of exhaustion and hangovers, we just lay on the ground and couch surrounded by the chaos caused by Izzie's party.
Speaking of the devil, Izzie enters the house and gasps, "Holy mother of destruction."
"You missed doctor-palooza," I deadpan.
Taking in the disgruntled appearances of all three of us, Izzie says, "Apparently, you didn't."
"I should probably never speak to you again," I reply.
Derek adds, not opening his eyes, "Maybe we should kick her out."
I murmur a response, but in all honesty I have no idea what I said. If somebody asked me what a sloth feels like, I think that would be the state that I am currently in.
After a quick shower and a lot more coffee, Derek and I drive back to the nursing home. He holds my hand as we enter and he sits by my side as my mother and I both sign the papers. My mother doesn't say anything as she hands the papers over to me, she knows what she's doing and it must be killing her to admit defeat. I guess that's why she took so long to do this; she didn't want to lose total control of herself. We drive into the hospital in silence, both of us too tired to talk. When we go our separate ways, he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and I know, despite entering the hospital to work for a resident who probably hates me know, it won't be all bad. At least I have Derek.
Responsibility. It really does suck. Unfortunately, once you get past the age of braces and training bras, responsibility doesn't go away. It can't be avoided. Either someone makes us face it, or we suffer the consequences. And still, adulthood has its perks. I mean the shoes, the sex, the no parents anywhere telling you what to do. That's pretty damn good.