Disclaimer: Not all mine. Read earlier chapters for further instructions.
A/N: I will be brief, short on time. Thanks to all the readers, especially to the one that support the story through their comments and their dedication!
-29-
Mending Bridges and walking on burning ashes
Maggie Pierce didn't know exactly when it started. She was young she supposed. How old exactly? She had no idea. But along with the discovery that she understood things quicker than the other kids and that learning was subsequently easier for her, came the realization that she was different and didn't exactly belong there. It was not her parents' faults. They did everything by the book if there was ever a book for such things. They waited that she got old enough to sit her down and have that conversation where they explained how they actually got a daughter. They told her how much they had wanted her in their life and that it made no difference where she came from in their eyes. They told her she would always be their daughter no matter what she chose to do with this little piece of information. More than anything they told her she was loved.
She never told this to anyone before but by the time they told her all these, she had already known for years. She used to grab her earth globe toy on her desk and lay flat on her princess bed and play at "Where real Mom's at?" She never knew what convinced her so early on that she had been exchanged or traded at birth. Her parents, like she said, they tried. They did their best. She must have been eight when they had the talk. And somewhere when she was 12, she almost died from an unpredictable asthma crisis triggered by an allergy to pollen. She fell into a coma for three days but miraculously recovered fully. But her mom had been so spooked by the whole ordeal she took them an appointment to Mass Gen to be part of a trial on a very innovative procedure at the time, genetic history mapping, a trial that was led by the doctor Ellis Grey. Well, you got it…
For six months, during which she had to pass a battery of exams, she got to be with her biological mother without even knowing it. Wasn't life ironical somehow? She had searched for her in every country of her earth globe toy and imagined her in all kind of situations but… she never thought that all this time she'd been staying four blocks from their house, just under their nose. Still at that time, neither she nor her parents had any idea who Ellis Grey was. Ellis never said anything and her parents were very impressed with her competences.
Now, Maggie would never know if she actually knew. Could you give birth to a child and not recognize it years later? Could you? She had no idea. She didn't know what to think. Would it be better if she knew indeed? Would it make a difference? Ellis never asked any questions, never seemed overly concerned or troubled. If it wasn't for the pictures she found later, Maggie wouldn't have remembered what she actually looked like. She remembered talking of school with her, telling her how she was probably going to finish junior high and start high school the following year. Ellis simply patted her head and said that she had a daughter who was a sophomore in high school.
"She listens to awful music all day, dresses in black, and dates ignorant boys. Don't you ever start this trend, Maggie. You seemed like a sweet and smart little girl. My girl was just like you at one time. So be good to your parents."
Now she knew Ellis was probably talking about Meredith. But the question remained to this day and it bothered her to admit that she was still hung on this after all these years. Did Ellis knew? She looked at her genetic history for god's sake. She must have…
Well, it was not like it matters now that she was dead. She couldn't ask questions. She couldn't answer questions. There were not a lot of things they could learn from each other. She looked around her and sighed as she dropped the last box of surgery kit on the prep table. Richard was carrying a box of water bottles.
Until a few years ago, Ellis Grey was essentially for her mother the woman who told her Maggie had a genetic predisposition to Alzheimer's disease and who gave Maggie the inspiration to be a surgeon. Maggie even admitted it was partly true.
But it had taken years of support group and therapy to understand that there was one piece of the puzzle that was still missing. Her parents did not know how much it affected her and she really didn't want to burden them with her problem. But well, these things, she couldn't move on from.
"You did very well, Pierce!" Richard Webber said.
She immediately got out of her contemplation. They were in OR1 inventorying the surgery kits and the equipment necessary for the Pollard Surgery. When Maggie came to Seattle, Maggie didn't find her mother but she certainly found her father. And what did they do in two years? Well, a lot of scramble around, nothing very concrete, they went for coffee once or twice, he got married, she was invited to the party. They see each other every day at work. He was her boss now. But still, she felt like they had not made it very far in the lapse of time. Did she ever get that piece of puzzle back? Not really… Did she decide to leave the puzzle alone as a result? Well, no… She was still hanging in there.
"I feel drained and more like a hot mess. Cancer, I didn't see that coming." She sat down on a stool next to the surgical table and stared ahead.
"Sometimes, it takes an awful event to reveal the extent of a trauma."
Maggie nodded.
"You seemed preoccupied." Richard asked again.
"No, it's just… It's been two long days. I didn't get to sleep as much as I'm used to. This case is like a rollercoaster and I'm crashing and climbing again. It's exhilarating and exhausting. It's like I'm overdosing or something. I'm so busy taking all the information given to us and processing it in. Things sometimes go so fast."
Richard stared at her, tilting his head at an angle. Maggie felt a bit embarrassed.
"Well, I admit that the way I put it sounded quite dramatic. Don't mind me! I'm a nutcase when I don't sleep... even when I sleep to be fair..."
"No, no… It's a way to see things. I've been doing this job for so long I'm seldom surprised at anything anymore. It's a problem."
"You certainly seemed shocked and subsequently very angry at Mer for pulling that stunt yesterday not that I could blame you. But I thought that was your "You're grounded for life" voice right there and that even I was going to get it... I was a bit taken aback by that. "
"Well, it's the chief's job… It's a bit like being… " Richard stopped right there, thoughtful.
He never finished that thought.
"Yes, a lot of people will want the job but not many can actually do it. It's the chief's job." He continued.
"I'm not sure I have it in me."
"You're still young, you will see along the way. You have some of the qualities, sure. I can see it. You're stubborn but not too much… So much like Ellis… But, you're also practical to a fault, sensitive to the situation, bossy at times… but ultimately a team player. They are qualities… a chief needs."
" I always thought it was Ellis… Her influence… Her genes that made me like this…but… the more I see you being the Chief… being a doctor… The more I feel close to you… like I got this all from you..." She laughed.
"Who knows?" Richard mused.
Maggie turned to face him.
"We never went for another coffee after that last one a month ago."
"Actually, I didn't know if you wanted… Last time, you didn't seem happy…"
" I know it was a bit of a disaster… I was a bit harsh… that day… Probably often in our case… I just didn't know what to expect and… Still don't know what I was expecting… Not this…"
Richard frowned.
"Not in that way… Sorry, you're… you're great… Meredith is… Well, she is a trip. She is a whole ²journey... But I'm starting to think it's all a good thing. There are things in you guys that I like, that mirrored the things I could never explain about myself. That's probably why I was not expecting this… I didn't think I would find a sister and… a father… and when you say last time we had coffee that you and your wife Adele you wanted children. It made me sad somehow… because the story was no longer so simple and linear. It was not just that you didn't want me… I guess… You had told me that before... But I guess it particularly strike me then!"
"If I had known… If your mother had told me…"
"I know… Things may have been different… but in which way? And it was more than that… It was way more complicated than that. I thought all the time about my biological parents, what they'd look like, what they did for a living, why they did what they did… I never had imagined this scenario. I was quite unprepared for it."
"I'm sorry. I really don't know what to say to you. I know how to be a surgeon. I know how to be a chief… I don't really know how to be a good husband… but I try… Being a father, it is new to me… I'm all willing to try. What scares me is it's probably not what you're asking for… You already have a father. So sometimes I don't know what I could teach you… what I could tell you… "
"Well, I don't know about that either. But I think I had time to process things and… sort them out… I would like it if we could… I mean that'd be nice if we could do things together on more or less a weekly basis. If I could call you… sometimes when I'm in a chatty mood… which is way more often than you may think… You could call me too… I know you have your life and I don't really want to be a bother… A big burden… But that'd be nice if we could learn more about each other and just be... Don't know… It's just a thought."
Richard's face lit at this prospect. This was something he always wanted but was really unsure how to tackle the issue with her. Richard admitted with anyone that would listen that if he genuinely thought being chief was in many ways much like being a dad. He knew better than underestimate the gap and differences between the two functions. As much as he wanted to be a dad to Maggie, he felt like it would be disrespectful to the people who raised her into being this fine and accomplished young woman. He couldn't help comparing this to Meredith's days as an intern. How he tried to look out for her to the point of being overbearing and unnecessarily harsh on her! He didn't want to make the same mistake. That's why he vowed to keep the appropriate distance for as long as Maggie needed it. The fact she was reconsidering their relationship made him well…
"Nothing will make me happier! Say Saturday? Breakfast? I know a place not far from the ferry port. They do some of the best pancakes I've ever eaten."
"I'd love to."
She nodded again with a smile and was about to leave the room.
"And Maggie… You will never be a burden. You're my daughter. I know I'm not your father. Your father is probably a great man. But you're my daughter. We don't know much about each other but you're family to me. Yesterday, when I yelled at Meredith… and the same way I yelled at you… It wasn't the chief speaking… It was because I was worried… for my family."
"Thanks... Richard." She whispered.
She hesitated since calling him dad sounded a bit weird somehow but well she appreciated the baby steps effort. There were a lot of those these past few weeks and she realized that Meredith and Richard may very well be the pieces of the puzzle that was missing. New friends… New family… Whatever this was, like she told Meredith, she wanted to cling to it and just cherish it a little longer.
He had spent another hour after ending the call with Warren reading his emails, reviewing other patient status on the clinic app, and updating his status on social media. His priority had always been on staying connected to the world around him one way or another. Why?
Let's just say, that for him, that was a challenge. Like he told Vika last night, he got better than her at faking it. Somehow it was because of this, a part of him wanted to get rid of Vika so adamantly. That constantly processing part of his brain saw her like something akin to a threat to its balance. She knew too much because in many ways they were alike. In many ways, her behavior patterns mirrored his most secret compulsions. But he just got better at faking it... Gone was Kyle the socially awkward kid, gone was the kid who could spend hours looking through his telescope to the point he would forget to go home. That kid was gone. The nerd became a jock, he became a star on social media… A personality in his field... good with people... good with other people's kids. He became a do-gooder and people admire him for it. He was not sure Vika could understand this. He couldn't change who he was, that he understood a long time ago, but changing the way people perceive you was rather easy in these days of modern technology.
He sat down a mug of expresso on the desk next to him and a mechanic arm added automatically the sugar. It was built to retract under the desk and that's what it did with a stirring metallic noise. The robot had a slight delay in response of approximately 0.19 seconds, which made any motion it made quite jerky and slow at times. This he built when he was 8. The lag came from the time his father sent it flying against his bedroom wall in retaliation for Kyle behaving inappropriately during a tribe council, thus humiliating their entire family. What did he do exactly ? He just asked too many questions to the Medicine man on the protocol he used on his grandma as she lay home dying from a lymphoma. From there, well, things were bound to happen. As a consequence, he never repaired the lag or built a new robot after that. He simply decided to change his main hobby and dived in the sweet world of Internal medicine for the next decades after that. He did study robotic in Japan but this was mainly as a diversion as he had to be outside of the US for a while.
To gain some level of comprehension on Kyle Yeahquo, you had multiple layers to take off before you got to the core of anything. Since a grain of salt was never just a grain of salt. He was born a nokoni… in more common english, a Comanche. From there, you could go honestly anywhere.
Fingers pressed in silent contemplation, Kyle leaned back in his seat and stared at that glucagonoma hidden in the folds of an enlarged pancreas, in a chest riddled with trauma wounds. There was beauty in nature. At least, his father managed to teach him that.
With one hand on his tablet, Kyle tweeted something idiotic back to one of his followers. There was no letting his competitive and thrill-seeking personality alone defined what kind of surgeon he wanted to be. He wanted to be close to the people. He took a moment to consult the list of patients who requesting for an appointment with him: One from Australia… Two from India… Five from China… six Canadians… Two French… Thirty-eight Fellow Americans… He rapidly skimmed through his email box with precision.
Dead… Dead… Dead… Really Dead…Any Joe could do this one... A walking dead again… On life support… A Possible Walking dead again… Three years top of glorious agony then Dead... A Dead kid… A dead grandmother… A dead ski champion… A dead mother of eight… A dead fellow doctor… Another Walking dead… On life support… and dead without an open casket… He hesitated on the last of the pile. That one looked nice and healthy on her picture. The girl had a bright open smile and very blue eyes that looked straight at the camera lens under her baseball cap. She was standing next to an older woman and two men, he guessed at their gestures was her parents and her boyfriend. A date was written on the other side of the picture, probably an old birthday picture. It was not unusual that people send him personal family photos. On his book on how to get into any experimental trial, for the terminally-ill and their family, he advises his readers to always send memorabilia, pictures, written letters from the patient, exposing his accomplishments, his goals, anything that could trigger an emotional response from the surgeon. In that, social media could also be a big help to them. If your surgeon was active on those, you could check his likes, his hobbies... If he likes baseball for example, well, try sending him a picture of your sick daughter in baseball tees at a game. It will trigger his own memories of when he used to go to the game with his father. If he has children... It will be more or less the same. It will trigger memory of him and his child. It's even better for empathy. It always works.
She was 22 and that means she was practically Sage's age. He knew it should trigger something but well... It didn't really. But he kept in mind that little piece of information somewhere because at least he owed that girl that. On that picture she looked sixteen, naivety still showing in her eyes. The photo probably had been taken at a time where she was probably still thinking of boyfriends, parties and college probably in that order, without having really experienced the world. Cancer often does that to people. Sure, say you were lucky... Well, sort of lucky... You could get diagnosed when it all started at the beginning and you learned to live with it and it becomes your fight and… you swore on everything that you hold dear that the cancer won't become you and it never does... Because someone swiped in to kick out the uninvited bastard out of your body... and your statement becomes true and you indeed manage to have a life after. Best outcome here.
Sometime it just wasn't slow in the sense that it suddenly revealed itself to you, though it just say hi in a big way only recently, we're talking nosebleeds, headaches, a cold that turned into a pneumonia, though it was only saying hi now, the bastard's been following you for a long time, to the point, it knew all your bad habits and reveled in them. Although your oncologist tried to keep a straight face, while trying to explain in which category of cancer survivors you may probably stand in , if you ever got to say you beat this thing, well, inside, he was silently screaming in horror because he knew… that there won't ever be such outcomes. Only persons that would be holding the cancer survivor award would be your family. Having invaded every parcel of your body… Your cancer will be just content to lie there until you kicked the bucket. There would be no fight. It was already there. That cancer already owned you. You were already on life support. Even if you didn't sign that DNR, no extraordinary measures would be taken to resuscitate you, since keeping you alive would mean allowing your body to experience the most agonizing pain there is, a pain so bad painkillers were basically useless… And this would constitute torture, and doctors don't torture people… because they tend to like sleeping at night when they can.
He opened the girl's medical file in the attached files, skimmed over to the telling part and closed it almost immediately half way through. Oh looks could be quite deceiving! She was another walking dead. She probably was already dead as he was reading this email.
Kyle looked at the date stamp on the side of the mail in confirmation. It had been sent five months ago. Through a quick research, he found her Youtube tribute for a girl that oddly looked like her and had the same first name. He read a rapid eulogy some friends had posted for her in the comment section. She was Sage's age is all he would remembered from all of this. He refused to learn all their names. Tomorrow he would have forgotten about her.
He looked at the 18 525 mails left unopened in his box. He had to extend this thing again or he will be stuck with warning messages on his other devices about his mailbox being flooded. He closed down the window and wiped his face in exhaustion. Jordan was alive. Jordan Jenkins, well he was still alive. He remembered his name. Even if tomorrow it probably won't matter. He was still alive.
After shutting down his computer, he stood to leave the room. On his way out, he looked at the left wall that held shelves of awards and diplomas. Inside a black frame, on a simple piece of paper, was the only rule he would never break.
Rule n°1.
The only one that matters…
Most of the time, you can't save everyone.
Some days you can't save anyone.
One day, well, you might just be able to save someone.
That's all you can do. That's all you need to do.
Then Kyle went downstairs only to be surprised by the noise coming from the Home Theater. He opened the doors slowly. Vika turned to shush him out.
"You're making too much noise. I can't hear the dialogues."
"I thought you went home."
"You said something about Bruce Lee. What can I say? That man just pushes all kinds of naughty buttons inside me. "
"I see… That explains a lot of things."
He looked at her half amused half wary of her. He slowly got closer. He turned to the screen. She was watching a 1971 movie from the Master, the Big boss, in mandarin with subtitles. Her hair was still moist from the shower smelled like fresh rain. She was back in her skinny leather pants. Although he noticed she stole another one of his tee-shirt. She was completely stretched across the couch her bare feet on the coffee table.
"You speak mandarin?"
He sat down next to her. She looked so focused on what was happening in the movie. She even whispered the dialogue in English when she remembered it. She may have realized he had asked her a question since she turned to look at him after a while.
"Nope, not a word. But it's funnier that way… I made popcorn. Want some?"
She handed him the bowl.
"It's like eleven in the morning…"
"I put extra butter on it so that it could be extra healthy, Sir. What else would you want from me?" She pouted.
His face broke into a smile.
"You will be killing me."
She shrugged with a wicked smile. Maybe that was her intent all along. She shifted to lean on his shoulder.
"What is Warren doing?"
"Working."
"I know that. On what?"
"A surgical cytoreduction of a Glucagonoma… followed by a surgical salvage of a partial pancreatic allograft thrombosis … "
He saw her blink twice and she turned to him.
"You did one on Major White…Who's doing this?"
"You read my stuff…"
She shrugged again nonchalantly. It didn't seem important enough to deny it, but at the same time, it didn't seem like she should elaborate on that with him. He was already so arrogant.
"Who?"
"He is in Seattle Grey-Sloan Memorial..."
"The Graveyard..."
"...Of Great Spirits... Yes... That's a dangerous place to be."
"That's an exciting place to be. If there's a god, he probably hates this place as much as the rest of the medical world... That's why he's trying to kill every doctor in there. Especially the good ones..."
Kyle burst into laughing.
"What's that?"
"Didn't you hear this urban legend? Some say it's ruled by the seven...henchmen of the Devil... Some say it's built on a cemetery..."
"Let me guess... of the indian variety."
"Yes, your people are everywhere."
"I guess we were here longer than you for sure."
"That's not difficult I'm an immigrant. Everybody was here longer than me."
"Anyway he is doing all this on a GSW trauma patient with one bullet still lodged next to her spine. The woman had also been in a car crash but I don't see a point in saying that. I bet you're already in cheerleader mode."
"I smell jealousy."
"I'm just saying… I can see the shining stars in your eyes, right now. It's disgusting!"
She spread her arms in the air.
"Give me a S, a H, a I, aT for Shit! He always has the best case!"
She shifted position to lean against him on her knees.
"Thanks! "
"You do your best but you're not Warren. He is in his own league. He is like…"
"Bruce Lee…"
"Yes… Just like Bruce Lee… He is the real Big Boss… But that thing you did back there… You're good with those fingers, Dr Kyle Yeahquo. You're in Major league too. Just not the same… But in Major league nonetheless…"
"The thing I did when?"
"You know… Don't make say it!" She teased.
He knew she was purposely teasing him talking about the surgery earlier, but he also got the double entendre and allowed himself to feel some kind of male pride.
"I feel just a little bit better."
She started to giggle uncontrollably and force fed him some popcorn.
Maggie entered Meredith's room somewhere around nine. Meredith was just putting her phone down after having a long conversation with Cristina. See, Cristina was in trouble and Meredith could swear she had seen this drama coming. She never like people named Jo to begin with. These people were obviously not meant to date, ask Alex. They certainly should never be allowed to...
Though she doubted that what Cristina had with her Jo was something close to a date. She knew Cristina. Sometimes, she just needed a man in her bedroom like another woman needed a new pair of shoes. But this man was dangerous in some aspect, since she could see his screwed-up brain was mentally sexing up Cristina in all the ways that mattered. They didn't mention Owen at least once in that conversation. And though she was not fan of this topic, his absence in a conversation could only mean bad news. She didn't know what to say to Cristina.
Honestly, her friend was probably having a worse day than her, having received flowers with a blank note, having done the walk of shame, making it late to work, just to realize your indelicate lover already made himself at home on your turf. This was the stuff nightmares were made of. They discussed vaguely about Meredith's own day. She told Cristina she was on a big surgery but she said nothing about the car accident. She said nothing about Warren. She didn't know exactly why she eluded the subjects. The accident, it was easy she didn't want to make her worry. Alex had already been on her case and she learned her lessons. A New day. A New Meredith.
On Warren...
It was not out of guilt or anything.
First, she simply didn't want to explain how they met. For all she knew without this accident he could have been already on his merry way home. He stayed probably to please Catherine and out of curiosity for the case. And they flirted. That's all. She didn't feel like they did anything wrong. It was all flirts and teases. It came easy to them. It was fun and refreshing. It was probably just a game to him, a reflex. He looked like the kind of man who never lacks the company. Maybe she didn't want to make a big deal of it. In the midst of her grief, it was probably the only thing she did, that and surgery, that she discovered didn't necessarily induced Derek-related thoughts. It reminded her of the way things were before she met Derek. When she just pick out a good dress, let her hair down, and went for a drink she knew she wouldn't have to pay for. Well, sure she could afford her own drinks. Sure, she won't be back in a bar anytime soon. But the feeling of youth, this feeling she couldn't describe, as you made eye contact with someone and you feel there's already this chemistry thing establishing itself between the two of you, and you start to plan what you will like to do to him if you were caught in a storm with him. That brief crazy moment when you're seriously considering bringing him back home for the night. Not, that she will ever brought Warren home. She still didn't want complications. Nope, she never even thought about it anyway. She was a grown-up now. She was a mother. She had better things to do.
"You're still here?
Meredith slowly turned to Maggie, the expression on her face was that of serenity.
"You came here to find me."
"…Not really believing I would still find you here."
Meredith looked up. That was some kind of crazy logic.
"It's a nice room. It's quiet. There's cable TV. It's paid for… by the insurance company. What's not to like?"
"You're not watching tv." Maggie observed.
"It's the feeling that I could if I wanted to that matters. "
Meredith replied in typical twisted sisters' fashion while trying to repair vascularization on a beef liver.
"I see… You're prepping?"
"Well, my resident is about to go fulfill some kind of prophecy..."
"You mean she is about to take on a surgery bigger than her… bigger than all of us?"
"She is about to walk on water, yes."
"You're practicing saving her from drowning."
"So, I'm practicing saving her from drowning. Where's Bailey?" Meredith asked.
"She's doing stuffs like explaining the procedure to the rest of the surgical team. Richard really wanted her to do that."
"Good… Good… She would appear in charge then… and it will win her a few points in her imaginary war against Warren... I mean Dr Fresker."
"Warren… Imaginary?"
"I don't think he is aware she is at war with him. He is a bit preoccupied by… other things."
" Like…"
"Life…" Meredith muttered enigmatically.
"It's like watching an episode of Game of thrones. They all want the Chief Throne and they're willing to do whatever it takes. It's kind of exciting when you think about it. Don't tell me you don't want to steal the throne for your selfish desires and your darkest ambitions?"
"Hell no! I want to see my kids grow up! And that show is way too gloomy…"
"You said it was gloomy. You? Meredith?"
"I'm not all dark. I love sunshine too sometimes. I like love stories so I can mock them. I discovered lately that I love ER… I had so much free time being a lonely pregnant woman."
Maggie quirked an eyebrow at that.
"I know I use "lonely" in a complete sentence. ER is always so dramatic. It's so close to my life. But at the same time, they are a few nice endings. ER is the best. House is nice. He is really mean. He delightfully reminds me of Cristina. I like Nurse Jacky. She is crazy awesome."
"You love medical shows? I can't stand those."
"Yes, because it's freaking unreal what they make these people do."
Maggie nodded sitting down next to her.
"That's exactly why I can't stand those."
" But it's not all bad in ER. In Game of Thrones, someone always has to die by the time they ran the credits. There's no hope whatsoever at a happy ending. People also get raped way too much and there is not enough of severed penises on screen to my taste."
"What?"
"You won't understand. When I was a resident, a rape victim bit her rapist so hard she tore the man's penis off just like that. We had the same shoes. Only she was braver. Fate has it, it couldn't be saved. The penis. The girl recovered physically and psychologically afterwards just fine thanks to Derek. She went on and got married to a bearded husky lover she met during rehab. They move to the suburbs and they have four dogs. Back to the penis now... It couldn't be reattached and became accessory to murder or whatever... It served as a piece of evidence in the criminal case. I was the penis carrier for a day though until police took custody of it. We were all very happy to know not long ago that the man, who formerly owned the penis, was still and… still is rotting in jail as we speak. I know I am twisted but I need to know that after a storm there's a rainbow and… a sunshine…or… a couple of nice severed bloody penises in boxes. It's because meeting my husband basically ruined me for the rest of you... "
" What a piece of sisterly wisdom you just gave me, Mer! But I still love it, Game of thrones. It's a great allegory."
"With all the violence… I didn't peg you for the kind, Mrs Pierce."
" It's fantasy… with Dragons… It's like an answer to all my prayers as a teenager. For Halloween, three years ago, I dressed as Missandei. "
"Who?"
"You know Daenarys Targaryen's most trusted right-hand."
"You dressed as… a maid. That's your fantasy. That's even kinkier than I thought. Who are you? "
"Who are you? She is clever and very insightful. In addition, she is very loyal. Loyalty is important to me."
"Alright, so I learned today that my sister, just like my toddler resident, is a fantasy nerd, a medical fantasy nerd at that. In fact she is a naughty nerd with a kinky fetish whose man crush is an oncologist named Yeahquo. "
"HahaHa! Very funny!" Maggie drew her phone like a weapon. "That, my dear child! That is Kyle Yeahquo's Instagram… Yes, if Dean is hot… This man is like boiling steam… Whatever… That there… is his bare chest… That's him with glasses… That's him smiling… and that's his resume."
Meredith looked up and swallowed hard.
"Oh is there a page where I can sign in for the fan club of… theMiracleMan… so I can receive naughty pictures just like you?"
"It's not naughty pictures. It's Instagram."
"What's that?"
"You don't know Instagram?"
Meredith shrugged.
"You don't have an Instagram?"
"Just answer this… Does this Instagram thing takes time and efforts?"
"Well…"
"You got your answer."
Maggie started laughing.
"I thing I got the move right. But it's not holding. It's so damn hard. I can't get it to hold. I acknowledge that your Man Crush is at least a genius with golden hands… for managing to do that and makes videos out of it for poor souls like us… There I got it! He is a genius but I'm good! I'm awesome! Hands up for me! You cancall me Mrs Miracle."
"You are… awesome, Penis Carrier!"
"I should never have told you. You have to tell me something embarrassing too…"
"Nope, my mouth is shut. Let me try too… So, I was thinking about something. It's a really ridiculous idea. Please don't laugh and don't get mad!"
"I'm already that kind of big sister?"
"You just criticized my #MCW, my Man Crush Wednesday!" Maggie pouted.
"But now I like him too… I want to do "whatever" to his pretty bones just like you. I'm a good sister. Say it!"
"Meredith? Let's stay focused."
"What? I'm being supportive of you jumping on some very muscular and criminally attractive bones. You can even put the pictures on naughty Instagram. I will watch… not judge… Maybe not… watch after all… But I'm "yay" behind you. Not physically behind you… Spiritually behind you."
"You are the worst and the best sister I have all at once."
" I like that, even knowing you don't have any other sister, right? It's very flattering still. "
"Indeed… So listen... I was wondering…"
