Down for Love

chapter seven

By Greyeyedgirl

"Shhhh. Shhhh." Cristina's voice sounded sweet, as she rubbed Meredith's hair softly.

It was four hours after Derek's surgery. Snatches of conversation had whirled around Meredith's head, but nothing long enough for her to understand it. The inside of Meredith's mind was not only dreadfully cloudy, but stormy, as well. The rain was beating too hard down on her, and some mean person had taken away her umbrella.

"We did everything we could,"

"His heart was too badly damaged,"

"It's a wonder he didn't collapse before then,"

The doctors had had trouble, not knowing if they should talk to her as a patient's girlfriend, or a fellow surgeon. Both were the wrong choices.

Dr. Burke stood in the corner of the hospital room, his face silent, drawn away. There was a coldness in the room, making Meredith's raindrops turn into ice, banging at the side of her head.

"Shhhh," Cristina whispered again. Meredith snuggled in closer to her. Her mind wasn't working yet. She didn't know the difference between multiplication and division. Polynomials weren't anything except random numbers strung together.

Her watch, the one that had struck her as so beautiful next to Derek's lock of hair, was now making her wrist feel cold.

Some of Cristina's hair was in Meredith's view. It's curl was definite, defined, and it stood out in the cold white room. Empty white, with only Cristina there to comfort her.

"How's she doing?"

Only whispers were being heard around the hospital. It was as if life stood still. Nurses who had gone on strike were back, and their faces were expressionless as they walked lifelessly down the halls.

"I don't know. Cristina brought her home, but she won't let any of us see her."

"Cristina left?"

"Yeah."

"Should we go? And see if she's all right?"

Each of the remaining interns were quiet as the stood in the small triangle. It was George's voice that finally spoke, his speech barely firmer than a whisper. "Cristina's there."

Cristina laid with Meredith on Meredith's bed, with Meredith's head lying gently on her shoulder. Neither of them spoke for a while.

"You should probably go. You have an early morning." Meredith's voice came out hoarse.

"Shhhh," Cristina whispered. "It's okay."

Meredith felt cold inside, and wondered if maybe she was the glass that had been broken.

"I'm fine." Meredith sounded raspy.

"Shhhh," Cristina whispered again. Meredith closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Izzie stood just outside the front entrance of the hospital, the wind making her long blond hair flow out from her. The gust was strong and harsh. A storm was coming.

Izzie Stevens had mixed feeling about rain. Sometimes it could be welcome, the soft trickles of water feeling refreshing to her tired skin. There was nothing quite like a quiet, power-driven storm. But right now she was hating it, the humid air making her sweaty under her turquoise jacket, the feeling of dampness already in the air. That was another thing she hated about storms. It shouldn't feel wet, not until after it had rained.

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of the automatic doors opening and shutting directly behind her, the soft whoosh-like sound being lost in the blowing air. Dr. Burke didn't look at her as he stepped across the sidewalk onto the pavement, his dark jacket falling carelessly off of him as his steps defied the blowing wind.

The storm came. Meredith watched it come and go through her bedroom window, Cristina watching her intently from the bed. Neither of them spoke.

The rain finally stopped, and everything seemed quiet. There was no noise from downstairs, and Meredith didn't know if Izzie and George were home or not. The thought floated listlessly through her mind, but it exited just as quickly, like something going in one ear and out the other. Not pausing along in the brain.

Meredith liked the rain, but she hadn't always. Sometimes, if she tried, she could remember sitting in this very room, during one of her first few years. She'd sung the nursery rhyme she'd learned with a small, sweet voice as the drops beat harshly against the window. "Rain, rain, go away, come again another day." And there'd been another one she'd sang. Something about a man sitting up in bed, bumping his head, and couldn't get up in the morning. She closed her eyes. She couldn't remember anymore.

As Meredith had grown, she'd started to like the sound of rain hitting a house that was empty except for her. It had seemed like a friend, one that was unarguably steady, and that, while it liked to come at bad times, always left the same results, and making her feel not quite so alone.

For some reason, though, the aftermath of this rain just made her feel sad. A memory passed through her mind of something a childhood friend of hers, Lexi, had told her. Lexi's soft voice ran through her head.

"You know what I hate? After it rains, the water sometimes drips down off the rooftops. I'll sit and watch it, as each individual drop falls to its fate. It makes me so sad. I'll watch it, as the drop hangs still for just a moment, clinging hopefully to the edge, and I feel sad, knowing its fate. I want to help it, prevent if from stopping, but when I reach out...it's already fallen."

Meredith watched the drops falling off the rooftop onto the ledge outside her window. She felt something stir inside of her, and a Moment occurred, as she stared down at those raindrops she could not save, shattered to a million pieces.

So many miles away, a phone call reached the penthouse in an expensive penthouse on the Upper East Side. Addison shook her head, her long hair shaking around on her shoulders. She set down the glass of scotch, reaching blearily for the phone. There was silence for a few moments.

"Addie?" Richard Webber's voice sounded hesitant.

"Richard," Addison said drunkenly into the phone. She frowned, her green eyes becoming small emeralds against her skin. "Richard, I'm not coming back."

Richard's voice was pained. "Addie, we need to talk."

Key. He needed the key. Right. Got it. Dr. Burke fumbled with the small piece of metal, inserting it into the lock. Now, turn. There. The door was open.

The apartment was quiet and seemed empty. He slipped off his jacket, then stopped mid-movement hanging up his coat when he saw Cristina, sitting on the couch with Meredith leaning against her.

He paused, not knowing what to do. Meredith was making soft breathing noises, they seemed almost rhythmic. Cristina rubbed her hair softly.

Cristina looked up at him, and her brown eyes were wet. He walked over and sat down next to them, his movements still hesitant. Meredith opened her eyes, giving him a tiny smile from her worn face. She wasn't blaming him.

He felt his eyes fill and he started to shake as he gently took her hand and squeezed it, ever so lightly. Meredith felt her breath catch, and she let herself go, crying hysterically. Derek, Derek, Derek. She needed him. How could he not be there?

She turned her body so she was laying against Burke, and he gently wrapped an arm around her. Cristina moved her body so she was laying against her, hugging her tightly as Burke wiped away a tear.

She was surprised to find that this really did comfort her. Cristina and Burke's embrace were one of pure love, and she let herself sink into them. Maybe, she thought blearily, life did provide anesthesia.