Chapter Four
"You don't know that anything is going on, Izzie!" George insisted, falling back against the couch, Meredith's couch, because this was still Meredith's house, and they were talking about Meredith because Izzie saw what might have been Meredith's husband having an affair. With his ex-wife. But George wasn't sure. "They could just be going to the same conference," he continued, watching Izzie pace back and forth in front of him. She had apparently sped away from Addison's and come straight home to inform him of what she had seen.
"When she's taken a six month leave of absence?"
"Maybe she's going back to New York and they're just flying together?" George suggested, taking a sip of the beer he had been getting out of the refrigerator when Izzie arrived home. "Come on, Izzie, think about this. It's Meredith, and usually the second anything goes wrong in the life of Meredith Grey we're the first ones to know."
Izzie flopped back onto the couch next to him, leaning her head on her hand. "Yeah. Okay. Except that we're not her roommates any more, so we might not. I mean, we were living together when we got pregnant so we had to know, and we were there when Lydia was diagnosed, and…" She trailed off, but George knew what she was really thinking.
"And we still see her every day, Izzie. We eat lunch together, and have dinners at her house. It's not the same, but we can't be roommates forever, it just doesn't work like that."
"That's not the point here, George!" Izzie said angrily, "This could be a serious issue."
"Could be," George repeated in agreement. "But isn't yet. We don't know anything, and I don't know about you but I really don't want to go up to Meredith and say: 'Hey, is Derek having an affair?' because, aside from being kind of rude, it could also make her worry when there is probably nothing going on!"
"You're the one who never trusted Shepard!" Izzie exclaimed standing up again.
"I trust him enough to know that he wouldn't hurt Meredith and Lydia like that. Remember Lydia? Little girl, has Shepard's heart on a string and calls you Aunt Tizzie?"
"What do you think he originally did to Addison, George? He hurt her!"
"Yes, after she cheated on him. He and Meredith have had a great relationship for five years, I really don't think he'd sabotage that," George said, realizing how emphatically he was defending a man who he could never get used to. He supposed it came from Meredith-loyalty. "He loves her."
Izzie seemed to shake his words off. "Think what this would do to her, George," she said, sinking onto the couch.
"Izzie!" he exclaimed in exasperation. "You don't know anything. You have no proof! You cannot go making accusations like that just because you saw Shepard coming our of Addison's house!" Izzie looked at him, evidently shocked by his outrage. He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I understand why you would be suspicious, but I really don't think we have anything to worry about and we definitely should not worry Meredith, okay?"
"Okay," Izzie agreed, gently resting her head on George's shoulder. George breathed in grateful for the ceasing of the drama. He had just managed to relax slightly when the front door banged open.
"Damn it!" he heard Callie exclaim from the hall. Izzie jumped, but her head remained on his shoulder as Callie stormed into the room.
"What's wrong?" George asked her, taking in the red in her cheeks and the fury in her eyes.
"I hate those fucking ortho bastards!" she cried, seizing the stem of the lamp on the end table.
"I think Meredith likes that lamp," Izzie commented, and Callie's fist relaxed around it.
"What'd they do?" George asked. "The ortho bastards, I mean."
Callie turned to him, apparently fully seeing the scene in the living room for the first time. Her face change, it was an expression he couldn't read. "Never mind," she said icily, "Looks as if you guys were having a pretty cozy conversation. I'll just be upstairs." She stormed up the stairs and George's eyes widened in shock.
Izzie sat up and looked at him. "What was that?" she said.
He shook his head and answered her as he stood up from the couch, "I don't know but I'm going to go found out."
George bounded for the stairs and when to the door of the room he shared with Callie. It was unlocked and the door was ajar, so he pushed it lightly to open it. Callie sat on the bed, staring murderously out the window. Quietly he went up and sat on the bed next to her.
When she did not say anything for a minute he gently prodded. "Callie? What's really wrong? Izzie's my best friend and you know that. She's with Alex, remember? The walking sex machine?"
This did not get a snigger out of Callie like it usually did, but her shoulders did relax a little. "It's just those assholes," she murmured after a while. "They hate me, because I'm female and because I'm good at what I do. The residents won't even take orders from me. It's fricking annoying, but it's more than that. They make me feel wrong, like I shouldn't be there. I thought that I was done with that, George," she said, tears in her voice. "I thought that because I had found something that I was good at, and that I liked, I wouldn't be made to feel as if I was wrong just because I was a girl."
George lightly put an arm around her, remembering the stories she had told him about being a tomboyish child and always feeling left out. He remembered how awkward it had been when she had first encountered the bonds within the group of interns he was a part of, but eventually she had found her place.
"They are assholes," he said quietly, confiding in her ear. "And you don't need to listen to them. They will come around eventually, and all that you can do until then is be your amazing self and prove to them that you are a million times better than most people with Y chromosomes in your specialty. And if that doesn't work: hand me a bone saw and I'll go after them."
This time Callie giggled and he relaxed. "Okay," she said. "Just me over reacting again?" He didn't answer and she continued, once again bubbly and Callie. "What was Izzie upset over?"
"Oh, she's just freaking out over something that probably doesn't even exist. Izzie's a gossip whore."
"What was it?" Callie asked.
He thought about not telling her, but he knew that he had to, to show that he trusted her and that she was a part of everything his only fear was that she too would over-react and would say something to Meredith.
"If it's about Meredith," she said, barging into his thoughts, "You should know that I'm perfectly capable of keeping her secrets."
He looked over at her, curiously, but didn't ask. "Okay, yeah it is. Izzie, mistakenly I'm sure, got it into her head that Shepard's cheating on Mer with Addison because he saw her leaving Addison's house."
Callie shook his head. "I don't think he's capable of that," she said firmly.
"Why's that? I mean, I don't think so either, but--."
"Because Shepard hates betraying people, he hated betraying Addison with Meredith, but betraying Meredith would also be betraying Lydia and Sloan."
George nodded. "That's pretty much what I thought," he agreed. "Although you worded it about twenty times better."
Callie laughed and nuzzled against him.
"Hey guys!" Izzie called from the hallway. "Want me to order pizza?"
"Sure!" George called.
"If you get anchovies again I'll hurt you!" Callie added and he heard Izzie laugh in the hall.
"You okay now?" he asked Callie. She nodded and he kissed her gently on the lips. A part of him, however, was worried about her.
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It's probably not a good thing when you're first words upon waking up are "Oh shit.", Meredith decided. Unfortunately, that was what she found herself saying when she drug herself out of bed on the morning of her first fellowship observation. She said it, because she realized when she woke up that she definitely felt as horrible as she had the night before (or morning, since she had stopped looking at the clock when she kept freaking waking up), and perhaps worse.
When she went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror she knew that if Derek saw her like this he would be on the phone with the chief and pulling every string he could to get the observer to stay an extra day. The chief, who adored Derek even if he had said he would never take the position, would do whatever he could and quite possibly succeed. Meredith, however, was in no way willing to attempt the same acrobatics herself, and so she reached for the Tylenol and hoped that the sore throat would not render her unable to speak.
She dressed slowly, telling herself that she was saving energy, but really just not being able to move very quickly. Wonderfully, Lydia began to stir right when she needed her to, at five-fifteen. She tip-toed into the girl's room and gently put a hand on her back.
"Lyddie, it's time to get up and go to day-care," she whispered as the child's eyes began to open.
"'Kay," Lydia murmured, pulling up on Meredith's arm. "You're hot, Mommy."
Meredith swallowed, painfully, and sighed. "I've been under my covers, baby, just like you. But it's time to get up now." She stood and went over to Lydia's dresser, pulling out a small pair of jeans and a t-shirt. When she turned back around the girl had put her curly-haired head back on the pillow. "Lydia," Meredith said warningly, but quietly went over and began jiggling the bed. "It's waking up time."
Lydia giggled and opened her eyes again, this time looking around when she sat up. "It's early morning," she commented, as Meredith slipped her nightgown over her head.
"Yes it is. Here, put your shirt on and go to the potty," Meredith ordered. Lydia went off, walking down the hall holding onto the handrails. Meredith sat down on her daughter's bed and sighed putting her head into her hands.
"Damn," she whispered, and then attempted shake off her feelings of despair. She could get through this. She'd worked sick before, not often because Derek had caught her, but several times during her internship and residency even he'd agreed that she had had no choice.
"Ow! Mommy!" Meredith jumped up, and went into the hall, her vision blurring. Lydia was sitting on the floor, one leg sticking out about as far as her lower lip. "I felled," she explained, holding her arms up.
Meredith picked her up, not feeling up to having the 'well get back up' argument. "You fell. A lumberjack can fall a tree and then it has been felled. You, my sweet, fell. But you're not hurt, so let's get your pants on and go fix some quick breakfast, okay?"
"Okay," Lydia agreed, plucking at her pink t-shirt. Meredith quickly got her into the rest of her clothes and they walked slowly downstairs, Lydia holding onto both Meredith's hand and the railing. Meredith's head was steadily pounding as she waited dutifully for the pills to kick in.
She poured Lydia cereal and stuck a bagel in the toaster for herself. She didn't really want it, but she could hear people like Derek and Cristina in her head telling her that she needed to eat.
"Am I going to see Grace today?" Lydia asked, as Meredith poured Spock's dog food.
"No, sorry sweetie," Meredith said. "I have lots to do today, remember George's taking you home, so you don't see Grace 'til Friday."
"But I want to," Lydia insisted. "She said we'd use the swing the next time I came! I always hafta go when I don't wanna, and when I wanna I can't! It's not fair!" in protest she threw her spoon onto the floor and crossed her arms.
Meredith sighed, biting into her bagel. "Pick it up, please Lyds? I'm sorry that you want to go see Grace, but now you have the swing to look forward to all week."
Lydia scowled, as Spock came over to investigate the dropped spoon.
"Lydia!" Meredith exclaimed as Spock licked the spoon. Slowly Lydia bent over to pick up the spoon and was about to stick it back into her cereal when Meredith reached over to grab it. "Okay, breakfast done," she said quickly, grabbing the cereal bowl.
"I'm still eating!" Lydia cried.
"You'll be just fine until snack time," Meredith countered pouring out the uneaten cereal and putting the bowl and spoon into the dishwasher. "Go into the foyer and get started with your accessories."
Lydia obeyed silently, and Spock followed, his toenails clacking on the tile. Meredith glanced out the kitchen window at the blue-ish light and momentarily braced her head between her index finger and pinkie.
"Mommy! I need help!"
Back into action she went, hurrying into the foyer to help Lydia into her braces and shoes. Once all Velcro was velcroed and all laces were tied she loaded Lydia into the car and set off for the hospital.
"Hey Mommy?" Lydia said, staring out the window.
"Yes sweetie?"
"I'm sorry I was bad this morning."
"Thank you sweetie," Meredith murmured.
"You're not mad, right?"
"Nope, not mad."
"'Kay good."
Just then Meredith's phone rang, and she held it between her ear and shoulder as she pulled up to a traffic light. "Hello?"
"Hey baby, doing all right so far?"
At the sound of Derek's voice Meredith felt her throat catch and she wanted to break down and tell him all of the horrible thoughts and fears that had been running through her head, to whine that she felt bad and just wanted to go home and curl up into a ball in their bed, but she didn't. She couldn't.
"Yeah, everything's going great so far," she said, forcing a smile into her voice. "How's Addison?"
"Okay. They just took her into to pre-op, so it'll be a little while. I'll get to spend time in the waiting room and pretend like I'm not used to being every where in a hospital except there."
Meredith laughed. "At the same time I'll be wishing that I was any where in the hospital but doing surgery, I'm pretty sure."
"Mer, you'll be amazing. Don't worry. Tell him your attending gives a glowing review."
"Yes, and just also happens to be my husband. Dr. Weir's giving the rec, remember?"
"Well, I tried."
She laughed again and felt just a little bit better. "I'm about to pull into the parking garage, Derek, so I'll lose you. Thanks for calling, though. I love you."
"I love you too, Meredith. Call me and let me know how it goes, okay?"
"Yeah. I will, definitely. Talk to you later."
"Bye."
She hung up and took the first curve in the garage.
"Was that Daddy? Didn't he want to talk to me?"
"He did, sweetheart, but he had to go. He'll talk to you as ssoon as he can, okay?"
Lydia nodded, and Meredith breathed a sigh of relief that that, at least, hadn't sparked a tantrum.
She parked the car and unloaded Lydia, hurrying her to the walkthrough to the hospital and then the elevator. They rarely used the garage, since it was mostly for patients, but since she was on-call for twenty-four hours and not taking Lydia home she preferred to leave the car under cover.
She went down to the basement where the day-care was housed and shooed her daughter in, kissing her good-bye and taking just a moment to wave at the teacher before dashing to the stairs and pushing herself to get to the fourth floor and the locker room. She changed in record time and beads of sweat began trailing down the back of her neck. She smiled wryly; at least the fever was finally breaking.
Hanging her stethoscope around her neck, she made her way to the chief's office, where she had been told to meet her observer. Patricia waved her in and she stepped into the office to see the chief speaking with an older man. He was bald with a little bit of white hair around the edges, and he had on a stern expression as he spoke to the chief. He did not scream California to Meredith.
"Ah, Meredith," The chief said, standing up and gesturing to the unoccupied chair across from his desk. She took it. "Dr. Grey, this is Dr. Ronald Niemeyer who comes from Sacramento General Hospital, he will be observing you today."
Meredith turned to the man and flashed him a smile, "Nice to meet you, sir," she said, offering her hand to shake. He shook it once, but did not smile back.
"You were five minutes late, Dr. Grey," he accused. "We don't accept tardiness readily."
Meredith's heart sank. This was not starting off well. "I'm sorry sir, I'm usually not late. I had…. Things to attend to."
The man cleared his throat gruffly and the chief cut in. "Dr. Grey is generally perfectly on time, I assure you."
"Yes, well, I believe you have patients to attend to now, Dr. Grey?" Dr. Niemeyer stood and went to the door, clearly expecting Meredith to follow. She looked at the chief who nodded. "You must behave as you would if I were not here," he said, as Meredith led him to the surgical floor. "You'll find I blend into the shadows quite readily." Meredith looked at him, pale in his white labcoat and didn't doubt why.
She made a beeline for the nurses' station to pick up a pile of charts and noticed that he lurked just out of earshot. "Why," she mused under her breath, "do you always feel weaker as the fever breaks?"
"What fever?" Cristina asked conversationally, coming up next to Meredith with two cardboard cups of coffee.
"No fever, um… patient" Meredith said hurriedly, taking the second cup of coffee. "Gotta go." She quickly made her way to the locker room where her interns would be congregating. "Morning kids," she said, opening the door. "This is Dr. Niemeyer," she added, as they passed the man lurking just outside of the door. "He's observing today." She didn't bother going into details, because she had given them the "make a good impression or else" talk the day before.
"Who's presenting?" she said, as they entered the first patient's room.
From there, her day did not stop. She had one scheduled shunt replacement at nine, followed by several emergency surgeries. When she finally had a break from those she leaned against the nurses' desk to read a chart and she thought the eyes of her observer, who had not spoken since early morning, were going to bore through her if she did not start moving again.
She checked on her post-ops, twice, double checked the detailed notes that her interns had wrote and researched the medical history of a possibly PVS patient transferred from Mercy West all in an attempt to look busy.
"Have you eaten lunch yet?" Alex murmured, near three, leaning over the computer next to her.
"Um…. No," she said, guiltily, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
Alex put a hand on her arm. "Go. I'll distract him. Damn, Meredith, are you okay?" he added, his grip on her arm tightening. "You're hot."
"I know, or at least that's what most men tell me," she teased, closing out the computer screen. "I'm fine Alex, don't worry."
He shrugged. "Whatever you say." Then he walked pointedly across the hall to where the observer was making notes and scowling pointedly, possibly at this socialization. No doubt they didn't do that in California either.
"Excuse me," Alex said, in that patented suck-up way he had. "Are you Dr. Ronald Niemeyer, the acclaimed plastic surgeon from Sacremento? Because, if so sir, let me just say that I am a huge fan of your work. I devoured your most recent article--."
Meredith did not linger to listen to the rest of Alex's well laid-on flattery. Instead she quickly dodged behind a nurse and into the descending elevator. Grateful for the moment's rest, she leaned against the back wall and crossed her arms. Fatigue was threatening her, but she was determined not to let it win over.
She went through and bought a salad, and then collapsed into a chair in the back of the cafeteria, not visible at first glance. She dug a fork into her salad and took a bite, then wearily rested her head on one hand. She had, she thought, at least not made any crucial mistakes in any of her surgeries. In fact, the aneurism removal had been fairly complicated and had gone off without a hitch.
She smiled a little, and rubbed her temples. There were still fifteen hours to go.
"Meredith?" a voice said, and she blinked.
"Huh?"
Cristina was leaning on her table, peering at her. "You are so not okay," Cristina commented, taking a seat.
"I'm fine," Meredith insisted.
"You've been staring at nothing for five minutes and not eating."
Meredith stabbed at her salad again and put a bite of lettuce into her mouth. "Happy?" she muttered.
"Swallow."
Meredith glared at Cristina and swallowed, wincing.
"Yeah, definitely not okay."
"Well, whatever. I don't have many choices today. I have Scary California Man breathing down my neck. At the moment he's being distracted by Alex, which is how I got the fifteen minutes to actually eat."
Cristina sighed. "Okay, so admittedly, you have few choices here. Just, no collapsing, okay?"
Meredith smirked. "Well, I can't make any promises. You know how much I love that kind of attention." Cristina raised an eyebrow. "Kidding. No collapsing, promise. Now I have to go and pretend to have a patient to--." At that moment her pager went off. Glancing at it, she grimaced. "Screw the pretending part," she yelled, running out of the cafeteria towards the stairs.
The patient was one that she had been monitoring for several days, and the pressure in his brain had suddenly built up to a breaking point and he was seizing. She dove into the room, nearly knocking down a nurse, and not oblivious of the fact that Dr. Niemeyer was lurking in the shadows.
"Pheno in?" she demanded, checking the monitor.
"Yes. No change."
"Okay. I'm going to need a cranial access kit. The hydrocephalus is too severe. Move people!" she demanded, moving to the head of the bed. One intern lowered it, and she climbed onto the top. It unusual, for a surgeon to do this, but she found it allowed her more control. Crouched just inches away from the patient she began to drill. "Come on," she muttered, moving as fast as was allowable.
After what seemed like forever there was a small spray of blood and she could tell that the pressure had been relieved.
"He's responding," an intern informed, her, shining a pin light into the man's eyes.
"Good," Meredith breathed, beginning to sew the wound up. "Mr. Reinhart, can you hear me?"
"What's going on?" the patient asked, fear evident in his voice.
"We nearly lost you for a second there. You're pressure got too high, like I said it might. You're all right now," she finished, sliding off the bed and smiling at the patient. "We'll continue to watch you pretty closely for a day or more, okay?"
The patient was very pale, but he nodded.
"Okay."
Meredith smiled, and then turned to the intern. It was Dawson, who was generally nothing more than an ass, and he was staring at her, wide-eyed.
"Dawson, when you've put your eyes back in, I want you to watch Mr. Reinhart here, okay?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, whatever you say Dr. Grey."
Meredith smirked to herself as she walked out of the room, the silent observer behind her.
The rest of the afternoon was fairly uneventful, and about five-thirty she went looking for George. She found him by the nurses' station and pulled him aside.
"George…. I need you for an, um, patient consult," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the observer.
She pulled George out of earshot. "Okay, Lydia should be easy tonight," she said rapidly. "Just make sure she gets her stuffed dog from day-care because she left it last weekend and--."
George put a hand up. "Mer, I'm sorry. I can't get Lydia tonight, I just had an emergency surgery come in and I need to scrub in now."
Meredith's jaw dropped. She knew, of course, that things happened, but not today. Not when so much else had gone wrong.
"Okay…" she said slowly. "Is anyone else not on-call?"
George thought for a minute then shook his head. "No. I'm pretty sure that I was the only one."
"Shit," Meredith swore. "Okay… I'll just have to put her to bed in an on-call room. Maybe I can get Olivia or Debby to check on her… " she trailed off. "I'll handle it George, don't worry."
"I'm really sorry," George said. "If there's anything else that I can do--."
"No," Meredith said distractedly. "That was pretty much it. Oh sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm going to go before I say anything else." She pushed past him, saying loudly. "Okay, Dr. O'Malley, I'll go to billing and check that out for you."
The easy thing to do, she thought, would be to explain this to Scary California Man. She was too afraid, however, that he wouldn't want to have to deal with a fellow who had to wind her schedule around a daughter. If he had been anyone but Scary California Man….
She got into the elevator and thanked God that he didn't follow. Mentally she thought about what she would tell Lydia, and hoped that whatever tantrum triggers may have been present the morning before were gone. She ran flat out to the daycare and flung the door open a little bit harder than she meant to, already three steps ahead and in the cafeteria in her mind.
"Mommy!" Lydia burst out, throwing her arms around Meredith's legs. Before Meredith could open her mouth, the little girl continued, "Can I sleep over at William's tonight? His mommy says it's okay!"
Meredith glanced up at Miranda Bailey who was holding her son's hand. Bailey nodded, once, and smiled. Meredith knelt to be on eye level with Lydia. "Okay, sweetie, you'll be a good girl?"
"Yes, Mommy!" Lydia exclaimed, grinning.
"Okay," Meredith said. "There's a change of clothes and PJs in her backpack." She always had them there, just in case Lydia had to sleep at the hospital unexpectedly. "I'm off tomorrow after six, so I can come get her, or you can bring her here, or whatever's easiest."
"Grey?" Bailey said.
"Yes?"
"Breathe. I got your back. For today at least. Now later this week, I'll be watching you, but for today I got you're back. Partially because you're still my piranha and partially because that California guy is a--." She looked down at the two children who were hanging onto her every word. "Well, not a very nice man." She smiled.
Meredith nodded gratefully and kissed Lydia good-bye before dashing off to continue working under the eyes of the not very nice man.
For the rest of the night she busied herself, checking on patients, roaming the halls in search of work, and generally exhausting herself. She caught Cristina eyeing her several times, but felt the observer watching her far more. She did catch two hours or so of sleep when the chief came by and ordered her to, pulling California Man aside to speak to him about something that Meredith didn't quite catch.
When her shift was finally over she politely said good-bye to her observer who merely nodded. Meredith had started to wonder if he had some sort of problem speaking, except that she had heard him speak. She pulled her phone out in the locker room to call Bailey and saw that she had missed a call from her fifteen minutes earlier.
"Miranda?" she said, when the phone picked up. It still felt weird to call Dr. Bailey that.
"Meredith, hi. Are you still alive?"
"Barely," Meredith laughed. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, I just wanted to tell you that Lydia's running a low-grade fever, so it would probably be best if you came and picked her up."
Meredith's heart ached. "Of course, I'll be there in less than twenty minutes," she said, maneuvering out of her labcoat and hanging up the phone. Lydia probably had exactly what she'd had, poor thing. Her throat was still sore, and she knew she'd been feverish off and on all night.
She focused every ounce of concentration she possessed on the road as she drove to Bailey's, which wasn't that far from her own house. She rang the doorbell, and Tucker let her in.
"Hi there, Meredith," he said smiling. "I heard you had a tough day, yesterday."
"I'm all right now," she said. "Where's my girl?"
Tucker moved aside and pointed her into the living-room where William was perched on the floor watching Spongebob Squarepants (which she never let Lydia watch at home), and Lydia was curled up on the sofa under a blanket, her thumb in her mouth.
Meredith went to her immediately and scooped her up.
"Mommy," Lydia murmured into her shoulder.
"I got you, baby," she said. "Mommy's here, and we're gonna go home now, okay?"
"'Kay." Lydia agreed.
Bailey appeared, with Lydia's backpack and crutches. "Braces are in the bag," she explained. Meredith slung the bag over one shoulder and took the crutches.
"Thanks for keeping her," she said. "I'm sorry about all of this."
"Don't be," Bailey said, waving a hand. "You can't control it. Get some rest," she added, showing Meredith to the door. "I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow."
"You will," Meredith assured her. "Lyddie? What to you say to Dr. Bailey?"
"Thanks for habin' me," Lydia said, sleepily.
Bailey reached up and ran a hand through the girl's curls. "My pleasure, sweetheart. We'll do it again sometime when you're feeling better, okay?"
"'Kay."
"Bye Lydia!" William called from the living-room. "Get better!"
Meredith loaded Lydia and her things into the car and drove the five minutes home. She wasted no time in getting her daughter, who was still in her pajamas, upstairs. She settled her into the master bed and changed into her own nightgown, snuggling in next to her daughter.
"What do you say you and I get some rest, Lyddie?" she said.
"I say yes," Lydia said solemnly, twirling a lock of Meredith's hair around her finger.
"Okay," Meredith agreed, and in the pale morning light they both fell asleep.
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Derek shifted uncomfortably in the hospital chair for the millionth time that afternoon and glanced at the clock. Six o'clock, making it three o'clock in Seattle. Probably okay to call Meredith. He hadn't wanted to wake her, if she had had as rough of a day as he expected she had, but he was worried since she hadn't called.
He glanced at Addison, who was propped up on pillows reading a magazine and then took out his phone, pushing down the speed dial for home.
"Hello?" Meredith said, answering on the third ring.
"Hey there," he said. "How are you?"
"Fine," she said. "Better, anyway. Yesterday went okay, I think. I had to open a skull bedside and it went perfectly, so hopefully he appreciated that."
Derek laughed. That was Meredith's sense of humor all right. "How was your observer?" he asked.
"A jackass," she said bluntly. "Which I can say, because Lydia's upstairs coloring. We've had a quiet day. She slept at Bailey's last night and had a fever, but she's okay now."
"At Bailey's? What about the Lydia-sitting schedule?"
"Yeah, that was before George had an emergency surgery. But it's okay. I've already reconfirmed tomorrow with Izzie five times. We're good. No worries."
"Okay," he said, doubtfully. "Are you okay? You didn't catch whatever bug she had, did you?"
"Huh? Oh, no, I didn't catch it. Do you know where the pizza coupons are?"
"Top of the refrigerator."
"Got 'em. How's Addison?"
"She's okay. They worried about infection so they kept her last night and are keeping her tonight, but she'll be discharged tomorrow and we'll still be home Sunday."
"Okay, good." There was a pause and he could almost feel the drop in Meredith's tone. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too. I wish that I could have been there to help you yesterday." Derek said quietly. "I hate that I had to leave you like this."
"I know." Meredith said shortly. "But it's okay. The others have my back. Listen, I have to go order the pizza, Lyddie's starving. I'll call you later, okay? And you can talk to her then too."
"Okay. I love you, Meredith."
"I love you, too," she said and although they said it often there was a different meaning in it this time. He really hated that he was away from her right now. He hung up the phone, sitting back in the chair and sighing. He rubbed one hand across his face and stared at the blank screen.
Addison looked over at him, peering over her reading glasses. "Everything okay?"
"I guess," he said. "She survived the observation, and Lydia had a fever but she's doing better."
"And Meredith?" Addison asked, putting the magazine down.
"She says she's fine," he said, helplessly.
"But you don't believe her?"
He sighed. "I want to. But usually 'fine' is code for: 'I'm being Meredith and pretending I'm okay so I don't get the attention I probably deserve or cause any problems.'"
"Funny, for a woman who definitely knows how to cause problems," Addison said pensively. "Sorry, that sounded awful. Don't worry, Derek. You guys will all be fine."
"So will you," he assured her, lightly taking her hand and squeezing it. "We'll all be fine," he amended, hoping that he was right.
A/N Please review! I'm starting college this week, moving six hours away from my home. I've got this prewritten a few chapters, so I should be able to keep it on schedule, and reviews give me so much happiness. Love you guys!
And the line break thing still isn't working. Grr