A/N: Thanks for reading! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Enjoy!
"What just happened?" Meredith asks as she strides into the imaging room where Callie and Jackson sit.
"Tall girl, short calves," says Callie with a shrug. "Liz's nerve is too short, so we'll need to cut into both of her legs. Derek doesn't want to do it."
It sounds almost unbelievable, but from the looks on her colleagues' faces, it's the reality. "Well, isn't that up to her?"
Callie raises her brows like, wanna bet?
"Crap." Meredith mutters. "Okay. Take Zola, I'm gonna talk to Derek." Or yell at him.
"Oh," Callie says. "Ah, okay," she smiles broadly as she takes Zola out of her arms. "Hi, Zola…"
Meredith turns to chase down her brainless brainman. Fortunately, he hasn't gone far. He's pacing on the landing of the stairwell when she busts through the door, "Derek."
He looks up at her, posture rigid and face withered into that frown-y glower she hates. "You shouldn't have called her. Why did you do that?" he snaps.
Meredith scrambles down the stairs to meet him on the landing. He just needs to talk to his sister. She seems very willing to help, and she can't imagine she'd say no to her brother. "Can't we just–"
"No, we can't," he shoots her an accusing glare. "We're not gonna talk about this, we're not gonna float this past Lizzie, that's final!" he yells, breath hot in her face. He pivots and jogs down the stairs, but she sprints down with him and jumps down the last three steps, cutting him off.
"Derek–"
This is their last chance. There's no other donors, and there's not much time before the damage is irreversible. He tries to push past her, she blocks him. He steps left, she blocks him again.
"Meredith–"
Gripping the handrail, she steps up into his space. "There was a plane crash! Lexie died, and Mark died, and Arizona lost a leg. Cristina's getting a divorce, and none of those things can be fixed! But your hand, Derek, there's a decent chance that Callie can fix your hand and everything will be okay again."
He frowns at her, still unconvinced. "What if it fails? It would all be for nothing! And Liz–"
"I gave up my liver!" she blurts.
"What?" His face snaps up, bewildered.
Crap. She hadn't meant to make this about her. Still… It's the same point. "Lexie begged me. And I did it. Because Lexie is my sister and I love her."
"It's not the same–" Derek starts.
"It is exactly the same."
"What if you gave up your liver and Thatcher died anyway, what then? What then?"
Then at least Lexie would know she'd tried. At least she'd have that. But if she hadn't… If she'd refused, or given up on Thatcher too early, she really can't imagine how Lexie would have coped.
"I get you're scared for your sister," she says. "But don't make that an excuse to back out. If you cancel this surgery, you will lose your career. Do you really want to live like that? Knowing you might've had a chance to save it? Do you really want to put Liz through that too, subconsciously resenting her for a decision you made?"
Derek runs both hands through his hair, then shoves them in his lab coat pockets as he hunches over, worn and defeated. "I just, I…" He staggers back and sits on the stairs.
"You have a gift," she continues, "I'm not gonna let you walk away from it without a fight. Get your hand fixed."
He has no reply except a long, weary sigh. His indecisiveness kills her. And she's so angry, she can't look at him. "I'm gonna bring Zola to meet Liz." She starts back up the stairs.
"Meredith, don't tell–"
"She's gonna find out anyway." Done arguing, she decides to change the subject and give Derek something else to do. "You should find your mom and tell her no Thanksgiving."
"What?"
"Might wanna stop her before she goes out and buys a ham," she adds.
"A ham? Meredith?"
She has nothing more to say to him. Instead, she launches back up the stairs to find Zola again.
xxx
Back in the hallway, she meets Callie and collects her daughter, this time letting her walk. It's hard trucking a 26-pound toddler around everywhere.
"Daddy coming?" Zola asks, instinctively taking her hand.
"Daddy's busy right now. We'll see him later. But, do you want to meet your new Auntie?"
"Auntie Wex?"
"Auntie Liz. She's your Daddy's sister. She came all the way across the country to see you."
Zola furrows her brow and puts a finger to her lips. "No Wex?"
Meredith sighs. Unfortunately, Zola's too young to understand the permanency of death, "No. Auntie Lexie isn't here. We're gonna see Auntie Liz."
"Auntie Wiz?"
Meredith chuckles at Zola's pronunciation. "Yeah. Let's go find her, okay? C'mon." She tugs Zola's hand to explore the halls together.
They find Liz in a waiting area outside the imaging lab. "Hey," Meredith greets.
Liz sits up. "Meredith. Hi! Have you heard from–" Her eyes snap downward at the little purple clad shadow behind her. "Is this Zola?"
"This is Zola," Meredith grins proudly. She moves to bring Zola forward so Liz can see her.
"Zola! Hiiii! I'm Auntie Liz!" Liz's megawatt smile is huge, exactly like Carolyn's. She looks perfectly pleased seeing her toddler niece. With all the attention on her, Zola freezes, putting a finger on her chin as she sizes up this new situation and her new auntie.
Meredith crouches down to her level. "Zola, guess what? Auntie Liz is your daddy's sister, did you know that? Do you know what that means?"
Zola shakes her head.
"It means she gives good hugs! Just like Daddy does! Do you want to see if she gives good hugs?"
A long minute passes, but Zola remains silent and hides behind her. Meredith smiles at Liz, who exchanges an understanding smile. Finally, she scoops up her daughter and carries her over. "Sorry, she can be a little shy with new people sometimes," she says as she sits down and sets Zola on her lap.
"That's alright," Liz says. "Aw, look at her, such a cutie!"
"Yeah." Meredith smiles while Liz makes goo-goo eyes at Zola. She shifts into wife mode. "So, um, I'm not sure you heard this, but when we did your scans, we found that the nerves in your left leg were too short. In order to get enough nerve for Derek's hand, we have to cut into the right leg."
"They're that short?" Liz swings her legs out and stretches her calves, eyeing them curiously.
"Oh you have perfectly respectable calves, it's just–"
"I get it. It's fine. Just do what you need to do."
Glad to hear that she doesn't need to convince Liz, she now needs to get Liz on board to convince Derek. "I know it's a lot to ask. Derek thinks it's too much to ask, but he really needs this, so I think you should talk to him." If anything, he needs reassurance that his sister will not hold it against him should something go wrong. "But- don't tell him I sent you, because he won't like that."
Liz squints, as if seeing her in a different light. "You've got some balls, don't you?"
"Well, if it's too much–"
"You know we're family, right? You adopted a kid. All we got was a couple pictures via email. You never invited us to visit, and you never accepted our invitation to come see us. You know, my kids were so excited that for months they walked around telling every African American person they saw that we have a brown baby in the family? A year later, they kind of think I made the whole thing up."
"I'm sorry." Meredith bounces Zola gently on her knee. She doesn't do extended family well, especially in-laws who live across the country. And things lately have been hard. "It's just, with everything that's been going on–"
"I get that we're all busy," Liz pushes, "But you're not shy about asking for body parts, and now you want me to cover your tracks with Derek?"
Because Derek is not gonna listen if he thinks that Liz was pushed into this. "Well–"
"No, I mean, that's what sisters do. We cover each other's asses. Look, if you want to be a sister, then I am delighted. But then act like one."
Act like one? Ouch, that stings. Well, she tried. She's trying. She's not good with the whole sister thing. She didn't want to be a sister in the first place, and when she finally accepted that she had a sister, that she was a sister, Lexie had to go and die on her. So, the whole sibling thing where you mock each other endlessly and laugh later? The thing where you take the redeye to offer body parts to the sibling you hate? That's not something Greys do. It's not what she does. Did.
"My version of family isn't like your version," she says. "You give each other crap and then you laugh about it. You'd go through fire for each other. Grey's are not like that." Well, maybe Lexie was, she wasn't. Sure, she gave a part of her liver for Lexie, but she didn't jump at the chance.
Listen, I didn't want to do this, I didn't want to come to you, for anything, ever… And I know he doesn't deserve a thing from you. But you have his blood, and I don't. And so I'm asking you to give something to me… Give me my dad.
You know what? I'm good, I'm off the hook. I offered. Mother Teresa would be proud.
You gotta go back in there.
Alex, I tried.
Try again.
"Derek said you had a sister who worked here."
I'm Lexie Grey. I'm your sister.
"Half," she whispers.
She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the image of Lexie's bloodied face. She was only Lexie's half-sister, so… It's not like they were that close or anything, really.
I'm a person who just doesn't wanna know you. And you are a person who is making that very difficult. So please, just stop making it so difficult for me to not know you, okay?
"She was on the plane," Liz says softly.
Under the plane. Lexie was under the plane. Dying. And she couldn't… She didn't get to–
You were not alone. I sat by your bedside for 36 hours. You're not crazy Lexie, you're a Grey.
She'd left her for Derek. She left to go find him, and– Meredith shakes her head. "You know, I really don't wanna talk about my sister. My husband really needs this, so you don't have to like me, j-just him," she says. Her throat burns. She has to go. She clutches Zola closer to herself and stands.
"Meredith–" Liz pleads. "You have a child. She's part of my family. You, of all people, should realize you need spares in a family. You need as many as you can get."
"I um, I gotta get this girl some lunch, so I-I'll see you later." She hefts Zola onto her hip and speeds out of there.
"Bye," Zola waves to Liz.
She flies around the corner and stops suddenly to rest against the wall. Lexie is gone. She's not gonna show up smiling and marching around the corner anymore. And Meredith tried. She tried to be a sister, but now Lexie is gone.
Liz is not her sister, she is Derek's sister. She doesn't want any more sisters.
xxx
Well, thinking about Lexie is certainly a distraction from thinking about that one Thanksgiving fifteen years ago. Unfortunately, it's not a pleasant distraction. It's like the universe just likes to throw punch after punch at her today, and she's this close to being K-Oed.
Meredith sits on the couch in the attendings' lounge, back in her regular clothes. Zola is not here. She fed her lunch and Derek picked her up. They hadn't said a word to each other then. If Derek doesn't get his hand fixed–
"Hey." His voice lifts her from her daze.
She says nothing as he walks toward her. She can barely look at him right now, she's still angry, but mostly, she's just tired. Her energy has been totally sapped, fighting to save her husband's future and defending herself to Derek's family. All while ignoring reminders of Lexie everywhere she turns.
"Surgery is on," he says softly, kissing her forehead. "First thing in the morning."
A heavy burden sloughs off her at his words. Her relief is so palpable, tears threaten to escape as she leans her head against his waist. "Good," is all she can say without crying. He rubs her back and shoulders, easing the tension in her muscles from being 'fine' all day.
"Ready?"
For the ultrasound she's scared shitless for? No, she's not. But she won't tell him that. "Where's Zola?"
"Mom and Liz have her. I told them you were performing surgery and I had a conference call."
"They don't know about…?"
"No," he says.
She knows it's hard for him to not share the pregnancy news with his mom and sister. Especially since Liz is donating her nerves… but she just can't be hopeful. Why would her body create anything good now? It happened fifteen years ago and she couldn't accept it, so it's only fair that karma would kick her ass this time.
"Are you alright?" Derek asks.
He's doing the thing. Being Mcdreamy. Now that he's gotten over his problem with his hand, he can finally focus on her. And she's glad he is. Glad he is more… himself. But at the same time, his loving attention feels like scrutiny.
It's a lot. So she lies. "Fine." She picks up her bag and stands to go.
"It's gonna be okay." Derek pulls her close against his side and kisses her again on the corner of her lips. She sighs and slips her hand into his and lets him lead her out of the lounge. She wants to believe him. Really, truly, wants to, but she's petrified.
xxx
They're let into the exam room of Dr. Simpson's office with barely any waiting, considering her appointment must be the last of the day. Meredith plonks her bag down and takes in the room. It's simple and practical, but pink. A little too pink for her taste, but that seems to be the norm in OB.
Her heartbeat thud-thuds against her chest and her palms sweat. Meredith chews on a fingernail, something she doesn't often do, but she can't help herself. She takes a seat on the Doctor's stool while she waits.
"Okay," Dr. Simpson breezes in, carrying her chart and a folded paper drape. "Everything off from the waist down," she says. Meredith's chart is plunked neatly on the back counter, "A nice paper tablecloth for you," she hands her the drape. "I'll be right back."
Meredith scoots off the stool while Derek holds the drape for her.
"Did you talk to your mom?" Meredith asks, unbuttoning her jeans.
"What?" Derek blinks. "I told you, I didn't tell–"
"No, I mean about Thanksgiving. I didn't want a thing, remember?"
"Oh. Meredith–"
"So you didn't talk to her." Her jeans slide down her hips, and she shimmies to slip out of them.
"I did." He sighs. "But she still wants to do it. Just the four of us, and Zola. Dinner. That's it."
"Derek–" His family makes her feel uncomfortable and inadequate. Despite loving Derek more than anything in the world, (except possibly Zola), they exhaust her.
"They are family. Our family. We didn't give them a wedding. They don't know Zola. I had to do something."
Meredith sighs, there's no choice but to relent and accept this. Lizzie has probably just saved Derek's career, if not his life. "Fine. But I reserve the right to go to bed early," she says as she throws her jeans onto the chair behind her.
"Thank you." Derek kisses her cheek. "You know, I was thinking about telling Lizzie–"
"Um, I think it's still kind of early." She scooches back onto the exam table. The sterile paper crinkles under her bottom, and goosebumps form on her thighs from the cool air.
"Yeah, but she's doing this thing for me."
"She'll tell your entire whole family," she says harshly. The Shepherd's can't know about the baby yet. She can't give hope and then take it away a few weeks or months later when she miscarries.
"Well, you told Cristina," Derek argues.
"I haven't!"
"Still?"
"There's no point. I'm probably gonna miscarry anyway."
"Meredith," his sad gaze is on her again, but she can't turn her cynicism off. She can't be bright and shiny about this, because the last time she was all happy and 'Izzie' about her pregnancy, a gunman showed up, and she thought for sure Derek was gonna die and, well– he didn't, but her baby did. So…
"I am just stating the facts. I have a very unstable uterus, this baby has an uphill climb. I am just being realistic." It's only a matter of time her hostile uterus will rebel against her. Already, the baby could be dead. Or deformed. Or genetically diseased–
There's a knock on the door and Dr. Simpson walks in. "Ready to take a look?"
And see her nightmare come to life? No.
"Yeah," Derek says as he walks by to make room for her.
Meredith lies back on the exam table and pulls the drape over her waist. Her heart thuds a little faster, and she looks off into space, trying to clear her mind. Dr. Simpson takes a seat at the foot of the table and adjusts her stool. She slips on her gloves and prepares the transducer. "Just scoot down a little," she says.
Meredith obeys, adjusting her body so Dr. Simpson has good access. There's a beep and a whirr as the machine is turned on.
"Now there's still a lot we can do to support the pregnancy right? Even with our history?" Derek asks for her sake, of course. He takes her hand in both of his, gently rubbing it, trying to relieve her anxiety.
"Of course," Dr. Simpson reassures. "You've got some risk factors, but we're gonna watch you like a hawk."
"Okay," Derek smiles. He's relieved, but she cannot return the feeling when he glances down at her.
Dr. Simpson gently begins her examination. Meredith shifts to let the wand slide easily in, feeling almost no discomfort, just some pressure. Derek pats her hand as they look at the monitor together. The screen is nearly blank at first, but then lights up with movement as the picture forms. A tiny alien blob appears on the screen, surrounded by the blackness of her uterus.
"There it is," Dr. Simpson says. "Hi baby…"
Derek's eyes light up immediately. He grins and turns to her, but she can't share his elation. Her fears are not relieved. If anything, they're amplified. In a strange, dark way, she kind of wishes the ultrasound showed nothing. Her baby made it to eight weeks and anything could still happen. Meredith watches for only a minute longer before she can't anymore.
Whoosh-whoosh, whoosh-whoosh, the tiny heartbeat echoes in the room. She's heard the sound before, but today, it just hits differently.
A/N: Thanks so much! Another update will be posted soon! If you are a registered user following this story, please check your notification settings and make sure they are turned on, as has messed up their notification system.
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