Other Side of the World:.
Disclaimer:. Shonda Rhimes is my God.
Summary:. Even when you feel like the world around you is being turned upside down, you wait for something to get better. You pray that you'll be granted a second chance, or the ability to turn back time. And when the worst happens, you deal with it. Because no matter what, life goes on.
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Twelve grieving eyes summoned one dispirited girl inside of an eerily silent house.
Two strong hands steadied an aching back.
Six teardrops plunged onto the hardwood floor; seven onto the carpeted stairs.
One head of platinum blonde hair bobbed up and down, retreating into the kitchen, where ten nimble fingers began to knead several batches of chocolate chip cookie dough.
One velvet box lay untouched inside the pocket of a black suede jacket.
One hundred fifty six box springs creaked underneath the weight of three drained bodies.
And one invisible sign was draped loosely over Meredith's shoulders, which read:
Out of Order:
Repairs may not be negotiable.
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After the crowd had dispersed (which included Burke and Alex's departure, Izzie's retreat for the sake of baking, and Callie's return to the over-stuffed couch) George escaped from the gloomy aura of Meredith's bedroom and ventured downstairs.
No words were exchanged as he joined Callie, sinking into the fabricated material of the spacious couch, letting his body slump in exhaustion.
"Tough night, huh?" she asked.
He withdrew an elongated sigh, "Tough morning, too."
"You know, George. You really shouldn't be putting yourself through all of this… this crap," Callie said bitterly. "I mean, this isn't your problem to deal with. This is her problem, and I honestly think that you are spending too much time traipsing around trying to pick up all of the pieces."
George's mouth dropped in pure shock, "Callie! What are you talking about? I'm just being helpful, an-and considerate… during her time of need. In case you haven't noticed, everyone else is doing the same thing. And if you are still interested in becoming a part of this family, then I… well, I suggest you do the same!"
In a fit of rage Callie leapt off of the sofa, "Maybe I don't want to do this! Maybe I want to focus on my life instead of wasting my time with Meredith Grey's many woes."
"Why are you… why?" George fumed, now standing.
"Why am I, what? Is it my fault that you're being so, I don't know, okay, about all of this? For god's sake, George, she is sleeping with a married man. Is that not wrong in your book? Because the last time I checked, it was wrong in mine," Callie spat at George's stunned face.
"First of all, she is my friend. And second, she slept with a married man. Believe me, I would know if she was doing this thing on a regular basis," he confirmed.
Callie raved, "George, face it! You wouldn't even have known about Meredith and 'McDreamy' if I hadn't told you. Come on, a real 'friend' would have told you that. She's keeping things from you. Big things. How can you constantly defend her?"
"I just don't get it. It's like you want me to, to- hate her or something…"
"You don't get it!"
"No!" George screamed.
Callie let several tears slither down her flustered cheeks, "I want you to stop loving her!"
With that, she rapidly turned and closed the door, almost causing it to fly from its hinges
When he was sure that no one was near, George leaned heavily against the door and whispered, "So do I…"
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Turbulence, turbulence, and more turbulence. An ear-splitting headache, an annoying, chirpy voice that pierced the tranquil environment every few minutes, and way too many bags of airplane peanuts and pretzels.
Sounds fun, doesn't it?
Well, if fun had a double-meaning which included torture, fury, and misery, then that's exactly what could describe Derek Sheppard's flight to New York.
With a mind of its own, Derek's finger maneuvered itself to the 'Maid' button on the side of his armrest. He soaked up the feeling of peace that had silently arrived since Addison wasn't talking. Soon, an attendant arrived,
"Sir, you rang?" she said, plastering a painfully fake smile onto her face.
"Yes," Derek shifted in his seat. "Another bag of… do you possibly have anything to eat other than peanuts or pretzels?"
She thoughtfully paused, "Why, I believe that we have some breakfast crackers left from the earlier flight. Will that do?"
"Sure."
"Back in a minute," she replied, jetting off to the back of the plane.
Addison sighed, "Another bag, Derek? Seriously, you're going to get sick…"
"I'm already sick," he groaned. "And if I feel like making myself even more sick, then that's what I'll do."
"Rough flight, huh?" she questioned, looking concerned.
"Rough life," he muttered, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.
Addison looked royally pissed for a second, but then spoke in her sleek voice, "Well, at least we have beautiful New York to look forward to, right? I mean the shopping, the entertainment, and the scenery. It's flawless, isn't it? God, we've been away for too long, much too long…"
Derek shrugged, "I liked Seattle."
"Yes, Derek. It was nice… for a change. But, New York is our home; it's where we belong."
"What if I said I belonged in Seattle?"
"Umm... I'd say that's your opinion," she commented, desperately trying to keep a good manner, "And that I think you're wrong."
Derek didn't have anything to say. The flight attendant delivered the breakfast crackers, and then continued helping other passengers.
"It's the ferryboats, isn't it? And the trailer? The frigging trailer; oh, and of course, the wild trout…"
"What about them?"
Addison rolled her eyes, "That's why you like Seattle so much."
"I have other reasons," Derek answered, nibbling on a cracker.
Her eyes hardened into stone, "Let's change the topic, shall we? Back to New York… I'm sure that Dr. Harksling is going to be delighted that we're back, considering we were the damn best doctors he's ever worked with. And Cindy's been meaning to call me for weeks now; I'm sure she'll want to catch up sometime. Maybe at Rossique's, you know, that classy little…"
"Addison, can you please stop talking," Derek snapped.
"Okay, so much for a good conversation."
"And take these." Derek shoved the crackers into her hands. "They're disgusting."
"Oh, thanks Derek," Addison said, throwing the crackers onto her tray.
"No problem. I'm going to sleep," he yawned.
While Addison seemed to be busy reading the crackers' nutrition label, Derek reclined in his highly uncomfortable seat, grabbing his small pillow and wrapping his arms tightly around it. All he could do was pretend that the spastic jolts of the airplane were slowly rocking him into a gentle slumber, when, in fact, he was actually imagining that it was Meredith's tiny body that he was holding in his tired arms.
Sleep wouldn't come, until he stopped pretending.
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"Meredith?" George whispered, letting his voice trail into the humid, tear-soaked room. "You want a drink or anything?"
His only reply was a muffled, choking sob.
"Sick," George turned to look at Alex, "She sounds sick, doesn't she?"
Alex smirked, "Probably dehydrated from all of the insane crying she's been doing for the past…" he checked his watch, "Hour and a half."
George sprang up from the bed, "That's it! I'm going downstairs and getting some water. I'll be back in a few…"
"Oh, while you're down there, grab a couple beers and some chips, okay?" Alex suggested. "I have a feeling we're gonna be campin' out here for a while."
"I-I don't run a service," George retaliated. "But, I guess you're right."
The door creaked shut.
Then, it was just Alex, left alone with… Meredith. Well, I guess that's what you would call the heap of tangled sheets that was rising up and down frantically on the bed.
Yawning, Alex rose from his seat in the corner of the room and trudged over to Meredith's little 'habitat'. He slumped onto the bed, weighing the mattress down for a brief moment.
"So, Grey. What is it that you're not telling me?"
The rolled up mattress-ball moved for a second.
"Come on, out with it," Alex ordered, no sympathy whatsoever in his voice. "There's something more to this twisted, pathetic love story of yours."
Dirty blonde hair poked out from underneath the sheets, later joined by a pair of puffy, moist eyes and a small frown.
"Why ar-are you here?"
Alex smiled, "Way to answer the question."
She sniffled again, "N-no, I just want t-to understand. You've b-been here with me, and I-I just don't get i-it…"
Sighing, Alex scooted closer to her, "Okay, so I really don't feel like being all sappy and supportive here, but… I guess I understand what you're going through, on some level."
"Really, d-do you?" Meredith sarcastically replied.
"I said 'on some level'."
For the first time in hours, he saw a glimmer of a smile appear on her face.
"See, I grew up in a family similar to yours. And when I use the word family, I use it very loosely. Sure, I had a mom and a dad like everyone else, but believe me… we were about as dysfunctional as it gets. Dad was always hammered and mad, mom was constantly nagging me; I was just stuck there, watching him torture her, and letting them torture me. I felt torn between my 'family' and myself."
Meredith sighed, "I feel torn."
"Yea, I know ya do. But, if you wait, it'll pass; 'cause you've got a whole lotta people who are rooting for you," he finished.
"Are you one of 'em?" Meredith asked, timidly.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
She snuggled back into the comforter, "Yea, you are."
They waited for awhile, neither one saying a word, because the initial shock hadn't worn off quite yet. Alex and Meredith had created some sort of bond, and both were letting that fact sink in for the time being.
"So," Alex finally continued. "I'm waiting."
"For what," Meredith groaned.
"Your big secret."
"Haven't you heard enough of my secrets for one day?" she chuckled.
Alex just stared at Meredith, letting her know that he was serious.
"Please, Alex," her eyes began to well. "Don't make me tell you."
"Tell me what?"
She breathed in and out slowly, "That I'm pregnant."
Glass met the hardwood floor, shattering down and piercing the newfound silence. Beer spilled everywhere, like an uncontrollable flood, and bags of chips lay crumpled on the floor.
There at the door was George.
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Izzie's eyes shot to the ceiling, after hearing an unmistakable clash.
It had to be George.
Her pink, fuzzy slippers scuffed across the dangerously slick floor, hurrying to make it upstairs.
Huffing and puffing, similar to an old woman with an extremely bad case of asthma, she finally arrived at the scene of the crime.
There was George, standing in a mannequin-like form at the doorway, bottles of beer smashed at his feet. Potato chips and other snacks scattered around his stock still feet.
When will the man learn not to carry so much? She wondered.
Exhaling tiredly, Izzie spoke, "George, the next time you're planning on bringing half of the kitchen upstairs, let me know, okay? I'm really getting sick and tired of picking up your…"
Something isn't right… Izzie noticed, taking in the expressions on the three faces that surrounded her.
Alex was in deep thought. That wasn't like him.
Meredith's eyes were covered by her trembling hands, which were cradling her face.
And George was staring at Meredith with a look that was an odd combination of bewilderment, anger, and grief.
Clearing her throat, Izzie stumbled, "I- uh… Did I miss something here?"
"Well, apparently you're not the only one who's missed something recently…" Alex muttered, casting a pitiful look at Meredith.
The confusion on Izzie's face was soon replaced with a spark of realization.
"Oh."
"Yea," Alex said.
"You know?"
"Y-yes, we know," George stuttered, finally breaking free of his trance. "But, wait! How do you know?"
"I-I, I mean… well, you see," Izzie began to explain.
"Stop talking about me like I'm invisible!"
Everyone looked at Meredith who was now sitting upright, her eyes glazed with fury.
"You're not invisible, Meredith," Izzie said in a comforting voice.
George solemnly joined her on the bed, and held her hand in his, "I'm really, s-sorry this happened to you."
"Thanks, George," she gave him a weak smile. "But, I don't need your pity."
"No, I wasn't…"
"It's really okay," Meredith cut him off. "I mean, I'm the dirty mistress, right? The whore, the detested husband-stealer… should have seen it coming. I guess I need a dose of my own medicine, that's all."
"No, Mere," Izzie whispered, completing the group as she sat next to Alex. "Don't think about it like that. This isn't supposed to be a punishment… it-it's supposed to be a blessing."
"Well, I don't think it's much of a blessing if the guy who was a part of it is gone," she mumbled, tears spilling onto her wrinkled shirt.
"Sheppard? Who's to say he's really gone for good?" Alex said. "Come on, he's hopelessly in love with you… how long do you think he's going to stay away?"
"Alex!" George exclaimed. "Don't give her false hope like that!"
"What, I'm just saying…"
"Well, stop! If I'm going to even attempt to handle this, then I really don't need any of you saying his goddamn name around me," Meredith shouted.
"Jeez! Hormones are already getting to you."
"Alex, maybe you could try and help here?" Izzie suggested.
"Hey," he defended. "I've already done my 'good deed' for the day. In fact, before you came in, I was actually having a heart-to-heart with Grey."
"Oh, well in that case, let's all give you a round of applause," Izzie snapped. "What's next, Alex? The Nobel Peace Prize?"
"Guys, just drop it, seriously," George yelled, causing both Alex and Izzie to tense with frustration. "Meredith needs us right now."
"Actually, I don't need anything right now," Meredith stated. "I just want to be alone."
"Mere, are you sure?" George persisted.
"Yes, just go, please."
They walked out in single-file, like a group of devoted fans leaving from a very disappointing concert.
All that could be heard was the rustling of the bed sheets as Meredith curled into a tiny ball in the center of her bed. Instinctively, she reached out for her pillow, and then let it knead into the center of her stomach, as she held on tight. It felt like she was drowning in an icy, sinister sea, and that pillow was her lifesaver.
Oh, how she wished that it was Derek that she clung to for dear life.
She frowned, suddenly remembering that he was never coming back.
All of the pent up anger and disappointment that she had been struggling to keep inside was unleashed as she violently threw the pillow to the other side of the room, as far away from herself as possible.
The only way that she could do this was to forget.
Forget Derek, and everything that came along with him.
Forget ferryboats, elevators, trailers, Muesli cereal, Tiger Mountain Trail, neurology…
Forget being in love.
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Derek's cell phone vibrated four times, as it remained abandoned inside of his packed duffle bag.
Meredith's wavering fingers dialed Derek's cell number four times simultaneously.
Derek never picked up his phone.
Meredith couldn't stop hanging up hers.
While Derek slept in a dreadfully uncomfortable manner, all he could dream about was the memory of Meredith's graceful, delicate face. He would give anything to be able to remember every detail that laced her body.
As Meredith silently leaned against her headboard, all she could do was worry about what would become of her life. She would give anything to be able to forget Derek; to erase the slight hopefulness that she kept tucked in the corner of her mind, telling her that one day, he might come back for her.
"Derek, we're landing? You awake?" Addison whispered, gently nudging him.
God, I can't believe this really happened, he thought. I actually left Seattle… I left her. Well, come on, Derek. Did you really think that the plane was going to turn around mid-flight and head back for no apparent reason? He sighed. Okay, so maybe I did.
"Ahh," Addison smiled, inhaling loudly. "I can already smell New York."
"I think that's just the scented air filter underneath my seat," Derek grumbled.
"No, I can just sense the aroma, that's all. You know?"
"I know that we're currently inside of an airplane, so you can't possibly smell something that's on the outside of it," Derek smirked. "Plus, I don't think you can smell a state…"
"Derek…"
"No, really, it's fine. Maybe you're just a tad bit insane, that's all."
"Derek…" Addison complained.
"In that case, I may have to schedule a flight back to Seattle. 'Cause I wouldn't really feel comfortable living with a mentally unstable person."
Addison sighed, "Derek, you're not getting out of this, okay? We came back to New York to focus on fixing our marriage, and that's exactly what we're going to do."
Damnit, how am I every going to get out of this? I swear to myself, I will find a way back to Meredith. I will go back for her.
Back in Seattle, Meredith Grey sat helplessly on her bed, her tear ducts soar from hours of overuse. He was never going to come back.
Derek Sheppard, the man who had taken her heart, was gone.
And being the incredible asshole that he was, had forgotten to give it back to her before he left.
All she knew now was that she was alone, and that Derek was far, far away.
He was practically on the other side of the world.
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