Chapter Two

Meredith began to surface from the void she had fallen into, and voices spun around her. She had a brief awareness of being lifted and a needle being jabbed into her arm, but the next thing she knew it was quiet, so she must have passed out again. She was smart enough to know that when she woke up the second time she was in a hospital bed. She could feel the needle of an IV in her upper arm and the stiff pillows she could not believe they gave patients under her head. The room was dark and she turned her head slightly when a rustling noise alerted her to the fact that someone else was in the room.

"I'm thinking that this would be a very bad time to say: 'I told you so'?" Izzie said from the chair next to the bed, and Meredith could tell from the smirking grin on her friend's face that she iwa, at least, not dying.

"Shut up," she said, pushing herself up with the arm that has no needle in it.

Cristina spoke from her left, "Seriously, Mer, don't you know: I'm the collapsing intern."

Meredith glared at her and allowed her head to flop back on the pillow. "Ow. You shut up too." She stared at the ceiling tiles for a moment to allow the complete memory of what happened to attack her. "I collapsed."

"Yes."

"On Derek."

"Yes."

"Damn it. Not exactly keeping my distance, is it?"

Cristina shook her head, "No. I definitely think that qualifies as 'up close and personal'."

"Why did I-?" She was interrupted by the door opening and Bailey coming in.

"You awake Grey?" she asked, and did not wait for an answer before continuing: "Stupid, stupid, stupid girl! Yang, Stevens, out."

"But-"

"You can't-"

Bailey put a hand on her hip and glared at them. They jumped up and left the room so quickly that Meredith nearly laughed out loud. When the door closed, Bailey shook her head and then turned back to Meredith. She reached over and flipped the light switch, the fluorescent lights flickered on and Meredith attempted to sit up, with a little bit more success this time.

"What," she paused, licked her lips and looked just over Bailey's left shoulder, "What happened, Dr. Bailey, exactly?"

"You were dehydrated, Grey, dehydrated and exhausted."

"But it hadn't been long enough…" Meredith paused. Bailey watched her, as if waiting for her to catch on. "Unless I'm…. I'm not am I?" the unspoken word was ringing in her ears just as if it had been said.

Bailey took a step closer to her; forced Meredith's gaze to meet hers and nodded slowly. Meredith's jaw did not drop, she didn't blink in surprise. Instead her breath caught, she felt for a moment that she couldn't breathe and Bailey went very slowly out of focus. She had been celibate. Sober and celibate. Completely. Until… the memory of the night with Derek, the prom, the haphazardness of it all. They had always been so careful, until that night. 'We're practically a condom ad…'

"Grey? Grey?" She couldn't think, she could barely hear Bailey's voice, it seemed

to be coming from light years away, and then she was taken by the shoulders, Bailey was in her face. "Meredith? You all right?"

She was a lot of things at that moment, but all right was definitely not one of them. "Does he-? Who-?"

"No, he doesn't know. That's up to you. The way I see it, it's all up to you." Bailey turned towards the door. "We're keeping you here over night to get rehydrated and I don't want to see you again after that for at least four days, even if Stevens turns into the love child of Mary Poppins and Florence Nightengale, got it?"

Meredith nodded meekly, and rolled over, so that she was facing the wall with the window. The blinds were closed, but from the little bit of light peeking through she guessed that it was somewhere around mid-evening. Derek would, at least, be off-call by now. She heard Cristina and Izzie come in again, quietly.

"Meredith?" Izzie, asked cautiously. "What's wrong?"

For a minute she was not going to tell them. Then she remembered all the times that they had been there for her over the year that they had been interns together, remembered their protecting her after Addison showed up, after Derek did not pick her and especially the night of the bomb. Not telling people things had never exactly gotten her out of problems before either. If, for instance, she had told Derek she still loved him two months ago. Or if he had told her the night at the bar that he was running away from his wife, things might be different now. Come to think of it, lies were bad.

She took a deep breath and then murmured into her pillows, "I'm pregnant."

"What?" Cristina said, and although Meredith could not tell if she did not hear or was in shock she assumed the latter reaction and rolled over to face them. "I'm pregnant. Me. I am pregnant."

Neither woman said anything; they just walked over to her. Izzie took her hand and Cristina put a hand on her shoulder.

"Step away from that chart, mister!"

"Once again you forget: I am your boss."

"And I am her doctor, and when I say do not touch that chart, I mean it. She'll talk to you if she wants to."

"She isn't talking to me, Miranda. 'I need to sit down' is the most she's said to me in three weeks."

"And it's a damn good thing she said it!"

"She left the Vet. That means something, doesn't it? Okay. Fine. You won't answer my questions. Just tell me: is she okay?"

"That depends on how you define okay. Now I do not define okay as: I passed out (just after performing surgery) against the man who caused me endless amounts of pain. However, there are those who define okay as: I'm alive and not about to die any time soon that I am aware of; so take your pick."

"Is there any chance you will tell me what's going on with her?"

"That is definitely not my story to tell. Now go home, where you should have been three hours ago!"

"You know, one would think you own this hospital."

"Don't be too sure I don't, Dr. Mc'I'm so stupid I can't see when I need to butt the hell out'."

"I'm still your boss!"

Insertlinebreakhere

Izzie walked down the halls of the hospital with the small bag of Meredith's things, which she'd retrieved from the locker room. She kept her eyes focused on the tile floor, with the green lines of tiles on the left and right defining her line of vision and the only horizon the next metal bump in the floor. If she did not look to either side, if she did not inhale, then the pain did not over take her and she could survive being in this building.

She had not planned on being here. She was going to stay in the waiting room and make Meredith check in with her at reasonable intervals. Just because she was the only one who could see that pushing yourself to the brink was not the way to lead a life did not mean she couldn't at least make sure her friends did not push too hard. It was only when she didn't see her for three hours that she worried and managed to bring herself to the surgical floor. Then Alex tried to distract her, paid for her to eat in the cafeteria and then convinced her to go home. Then George came home to say that Meredith had collapsed.

So here she was, back at the hospital, making sure that Meredith did not manage to kill herself somehow by staring at the ceiling for endless amounts of time. So long as she did not look up, did not meet the sympathetic eyes of the nurses she would be fine. Meredith was not even on the surgical floor, for goodness sake, and she could handle that. Still, when she reached the room she paused just outside the door to take a deep breath before entering.

"I brought your stuff!" she said, trying to be as cheerful as possible. Meredith turned her head slightly and nodded.

"Thanks."

"Do you want anything else?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. I think what I would like most in the world is for my life to be less complicated. Complications are messy. Complications can get surgeons sued, but you can't exactly sue anyone for life's complications, can you?"

It was, at least, the most she had said since Bailey left, but Meredith's rant hit a little too close to home for Izzie and she lost a little bit of the pep she had attempted to show. "No," she said, sliding into a chair. "No you can't."

Meredith turned to her. "I'm sorry, Izzie. I didn't mean to say that. I think you may still win at the 'whose life sucks more game'. Who am I to complain? Millions of women dream of finding out they're—well…. You know…"

Izzie did know. She knew very well. Meredith's predicament was achingly similar to what hers had once been. And honestly? She was not sure that she would win that game. Because being pregnant without knowing what to do definitely sucked. When she looked at Meredith she remembered the feeling of utter defeat and terror that she had felt when the stick turned blue.

Of course, Meredith was older than fifteen and had a few more resources than Izzie had had, but the terror would still be there. The complete unknown looming ahead. She should probably tell her all of this, but for just a minute she wanted to pretend that the complications in her life had not been riding down a slippery slope and she did not want her friends to know this. She did not want any more sympathy.

She took Meredith's hand again and smiled. "You know, Meredith, I think you may be inching towards the first place trophy in the game."

For some reason this made Meredith laugh hysterically. Izzie looked at her, bemused, definitely not getting the joke, until Meredith put a hand on her belly and calmed down enough to repeat: "Inching." It wasn't funny. Not really. But it was funny enough to relieve the tension and Izzie began to laugh too.

They were both still in hysterics when the door opened and George came in with a tray. "Bland diet courtesy of the hospital cooks," he said, then closed the door to reveal the three fast food bags behind his back. Izzie jumped up to help him set up the food, but glanced once more at Meredith to see that tears were running down her face. Izzie couldn't tell if they were from laughing or not.

"You up to it?" George asked Meredith, clearly referring to the food. He must have been surprised when she answered: "I hope so."

Meredith was lucky. Somehow, for perhaps the first time ever, she could see that. She was lucky to have the family that she did. George and Izzie had spent three hours with her, trying to cheer her up. George had been informed of the situation. There was no use in not doing it, since he was her roommate. He had looked shocked at first, but to his credit he got over it quickly enough.

Izzie had finally left, but only after making sure that someone in their little family was on-call. Cristina and Alex agreed to look out for Meredith, which made Meredith feel about two years old, at first, but when, near midnight, she saw Alex flash her a smile through the window looking out onto the floor she could not help but feel comforted. It was also a relief to know that Derek would not be on-call again until the next evening, long after she would be home.

Sleep was something that evaded her for most of the night, the fluids made her use the bathroom more often, and even without that she could not sleep. Her mind was going constantly, more constantly than it normally did. It was not that she was having a hard time 'accepting her reality' as they often said about patients. She understood perfectly. She and Derek had had unprotected sex, she hadn't spoken to him in weeks and now she was pregnant. She was having a baby and the father was Derek Shepard. That was her reality.

What she could not figure out was what she was going to do about it. There were the classic three choices: abortion, adoption or keeping it. Three choices that would ultimately change her life forever. Her life and her baby's life. She had never been good at choices. Going out to eat, she always let someone else chose the restaurant. Her mother's illness had chosen where she did her residency. Her mother's willingness (or unwillingness) to pay had decided where she went to college.

The last choice she had made on her own had been, in a nutshell, not to chose. That night, the night Denny died, she had been stuck between two men who she loved, two life styles, and she simply had not chosen:

"Meredith?" Derek said, looking at her in that way. The way that made her love him. And then there was Finn, looking dashing all dressed up, Finn who had plans and Derek who had ruined hers. She could not do it, she couldn't ride home with Finn without feeling incredibly guilty for what she had done to him, but Derek needed to make some decisions of his own before she would go with him. So, she did the only thing she could think to do. She walked away from both of them, and her walked turned into a run.

"Meredith!" They both called after her at the same time, but she could not look back, she just ran. Out the hospital doors and out onto the street. Her car was not there, she had given the keys to George to take Izzie home.

She ran to Joe's, but did not go in. This was not a night to end up back at her house drunk, instead she ducked into the waiting taxi that Joe must have called for someone else. She was about to give the driver her home address, but realized that he would already know it. He had driven her home several times before. At this realization she fell back against the headrest and put a hand to her forehead.

"You look nice tonight, pretty lady," the driver said. He was an elderly man with pictures of his grandchildren hanging off the rearview mirror. She could not bring herself to thank him for the compliment, could only think of the stunned faces of Derek and Finn as she left them there. She did not know which was worse. Finn did not have anyone but her, but she was not good enough for him. She could not love him in that way. Derek had Addison, but he did not love her.

The cab ride was surprisingly short, and she fumbled with her wallet for a minute, finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the numbers on the bills. She finally handed him the correct change and made her way up the driveway to the house. There were not any lights on except for the kitchen one, but Alex's car was parked in the street just out front.

George was sitting at the kitchen table, but he jumped up when he saw her. "Meredith, are you—do you need any help?"

"I'm not drunk, if that's what you're asking," she shot at him, sliding onto the stool by the counter. "Seriously George, I'm not that self-centered and caught up in my own problems."

"I didn't—I'm sorry. That was kind of judgmental."

She sighed. "No. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just all so hard, you know? My dog died today. Denny died today. I may have killed at least one relationship today, not to mention mine." She took a breath. "How's Izzie?"

"She's asleep." It was not George, but Alex who answered her. He walked into the room, and when she looked at him in the dim light she thought he looked more than tired. He looked drained. His jacket was draped over his arm and his shirt was rumpled. "She cried herself out and fell asleep." He closed his eyes tightly and took a breath. "I'm going to stay here tonight. I'll sleep on the couch. I just need to go home and get some stuff." He dug his keys out of a pocket and disappeared out the door, and it slammed after him.

He didn't bother to ask Meredith if it was okay, but she understood. That was not how Alex operated. He needed to feel in control, and there was so little that they were in control of that they didn't care. The kitchen was quiet for several minutes after he left, the only sound was the owls hooting outside and the dishwasher, which automatically turned on.

Meredith did not look at George, she was afraid. She was afraid that what she had just done, this new terrible thing, would be written all over her face. George knew her, he could read her. However, she was not ready to go face the dark of her room alone, so she just sat there.

"Camille looked happy," George said, breaking the silence so suddenly that Meredith had to work hard not to jump. "It was nice to watch her dance with the chief. She's a pretty girl. Dr. Montgomery-Shepard said she'll do everything she could for her, but there's not much hope. It's not really fair."

The sound of Addison's name made Meredith flinch and she turned her head suddenly to face George, who was sitting on the counter next to the sink. "George, what part of tonight has given you the slightest indication that life is fair? Denny's dead, Izzie quit the program, my dog is dead. Life is going to change forever and all you can say is 'it's not really fair'?"

She expected him to give her that wounded puppy look that she was so used to seeing from him, but he didn't. Instead he ran a hand through his hair and turned to her. "No. That's not all I can say. What I can say is that tragedies come when we least expect them, and that nothing ever turns out the way we plan. That life is completely unpredictable and scary. That we're all rolling around like pin-balls in a broken machine. Because that's the way I am feeling right now. But I cannot feel that way, because I believe in things like karma; and good things for good people. So I don't really want to say that. You see?"

"Yeah. I do see. I'm sorry. Again. And I'll stop saying that."

George smiled at her and hopped off the counter. "I'm going to go to bed. Anything you need?"

She was touched by this generosity. She didn't deserve it and it was so George. "Yes," she admitted. "This is going to sound horribly selfish and as if I don't have any sympathy for any one else and like I think the world revolves around me, which it definitely doesn't and—"

"Meredith, what is it?"

She spun around to face him, putting one hand on the table and reaching out to touch his sleeve with the other. "George, I…. I need a hug."

Without saying any thing, he stood up and put his arms around her, drawing her to him. Suddenly the weight of everything that had happened hit her, and she started to cry.

In her hospital bed, alone, she started to cry again, but there was no one to hear her, except her baby, developing slowly in her womb.

Meredith was released early the next morning, and wheeled out of the hospital by George. She didn't fight the wheelchair, partially because it was protocol, but she was also tired. She was not sure if she had slept more than two hours the night before. Izzie took her arm and walked her into the house where she promptly fell onto the couch and fell asleep until after noon.

The next day, her fatigue was relenting enough to let her wander around the house in search of something to do, and the morning sickness was not as bad as it had been the first day. It was enough that she could eat and drink enough to make her warden… Izzie… satisfied. It reminded her of the other days she had spent at home in search of something to do after the eighty hour work day laws had been passed. Everything she normally did on those days now Izzie had already done.

By the third day she was going absolutely stir-crazy. When Izzie was downstairs doing the laundry she dove for the phone and mentally ran through the on-call schedule. Cristina would be off. She dialed the number, throwing a shoe against the door to her room so that it would close all the way.

"Hello?"

"Cristina?" she hissed, "It's Meredith."

"Meredith? Are you okay? Why are you whispering?"

"Because the dragon might wake up. Any chance you could lure her away?"

"Me? Distract Izzie?"

'Yeah, okay, bad idea. Well can I come over there? What are you doing?" there was a sudden sound from the other end.

"Burke just came home today, and he refuses to admit that there are things he's better off letting me do."

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot. If you want me to not bother you-."

She heard Cristina sigh. "No, Mer, it's okay. Can you get over here or do you need-?"

"I can drive Cristina. I'm far from being an invalid. I'll be there in half an hour. I owe you one."

She hung up the phone and headed downstairs. "I'm going to Cristina's! Burke's coming home and she needs a hand!"

Izzie popped into the hallway, a laundry basket in her arms. "Oh? I'll come with you!"

"No!" Meredith said, probably too suddenly. "I'll be back in a little while. Don't worry about it!" She was out the door before Izzie could say anything else. She knocked on the door to Cristina's apartment and heard a scuffling sound then Cristina saying: "Would you just sit down?"

Meredith could not help but smirk, but quickly wiped it away when the door opened. "Hey," she said, walking past Cristina into the apartment. It was a mess. It was obvious that in the few weeks that Burke had not been allowed out of the hospital that Cristina had fallen into her old ways of messiness. There was a bottle of Windex sitting on the windowsill that showed that she had at least attempted to clean up, but there had not been much progress. "You need Izzie in here. Seriously, she would have it cleaner than anyone ever could dream of in a day."

Cristina glared at her, but Burke spoke from the couch. "We may take her up on that. Hello there, Meredith."

Meredith turned to him. Burke wore a burgundy bathrobe over blue pajamas and he looked as collected as ever when she went over to kiss his cheek. Cristina stood in the center of the kitchen, her black shirt and jeans a contrast to the scrubs which Meredith had seen her in constantly for weeks. Cristina had obviously spent more time at the hospital with Burke than at home.

Meredith sat in an armchair and there was silence for a moment until Burke spoke again, "Would you like something to drink, Meredith?"

"Water, I guess," she said, and Burke moved to stand up.

"I'll get it!" Cristina broke in quickly, lunging to the refrigerator. Burke sat back, turning his head away, but Meredith could see that he was annoyed.

"No, don't. I'll get it." She got up and went into the kitchen with Cristina. She opened a cabinet to get out a glass and saw that only a single glass and plate remained clean, she looked at Cristina who only shrugged. Meredith got water and stood there for a second before asking: "This is going to sound weird, but do you have any olives?"

Cristina raised an eyebrow but pointed to the refrigerator. Meredith got the jar and found a semi-clean spoon with which to scoop out two olives which she popped in her mouth.

"Okay, Mer, ew. No offense, but ew." Cristina said, coming over and taking the olive jar from Meredith's hand.

"Did I complain when you cleaned out my sour cream and onion potato chips?" Meredith demanded lunging for the olives.

"Drink your water."

"Fine." Meredith went back into the living room to see Burke laughing silently at them. Laughing, knowingly. She spun on Cristina. "Did you tell him?"

Cristina nodded guiltily.

"Cristina!"

"Relax, Grey, I won't tell anyone." Burke said, raising his good hand to calm her. "Sit down."

Meredith sat down and crossed her arms. "The whole hospital is going to know."

"You can't exactly hide it. That is, unless…" Cristina trailed off, perching on a chair and peering at Meredith.

Meredith put her face in her hands and took a deep breath. "I can't Cristina. I can't do that. It's not religious, or anything. I just can't. I don't know why, but I just feel that if it happened there has got to be some kind of reason."

To her surprise, Cristina nodded. "Okay." She said. Meredith was kind of surprised. Cristina had been so sure of her own choice that Meredith had somewhat expected her to assume that Meredith would make the same one.

"Okay," she repeated, sitting back in the chair. "Okay."

A/N thanks so much for all the great reviews!