A/N : This is set during 18x09 and 18x10. My wish was for Meredith to have reacted, to have let her instincts take over and just be a friend to Hayes. Hence, this silly one-shot was born. I call it silly because I don't dig too deep into the whys of everything. It's basically pure, fantastical nonsense lol.
I made one slight change. Meredith doesn't call Nick to perform the hernia repair.
Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoy this one-shot. I'm grateful for every comment I get such joy out of reading them.
And the day comes when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
- Anaïs Nin
When Meredith first hears the news from a sputtering, head-shaking Bailey, she waits for the punch line that never comes.
Hayes just quit! Up and quit at the end of his shift! You better talk to him, Grey.
Unmoored, something visceral inside her cracks—something that was clearly fragile to begin with if the news of her "friend" quitting is hitting her this hard. Something that feels a lot like her tenuous heart.
Would he really just quit without talking to her first?
Did the accident prompt this sudden decision?
What happened out there?
Why didn't she stay with him after she fixed his head?
Why didn't she comfort him, talk to him, calm him? Anything!
Why wasn't she the friend to him that he was to her?
Why didn't she appreciate all the parts of him that made him Hayes? The part of him that fiercely cares for people, the part of him that tries to help anyone and everyone, the part of him he only shows to her?
Why did she take him for granted?
This moment is not unlike being blindsided by Alex's letter. And yet, her anxious reaction speaks to the stark contrast. The crushing feeling swirling through her body... the weight of unrealized potential.
Damnit! There's no way this can be real.
But when her frantic texts and calls go unanswered no matter how many times she checks her phone, alarm bells ring, the floor shifts beneath her feet, and a sinking feeling settles in the pit of her stomach, sending her into a tailspin.
Standing alone in Hayes' office, the man who now haunts her thoughts, she stares at the door, expecting him to waltz in at any moment, but all that comes is the feeling of the walls closing in on her and a raging fire inside her she can't tame.
Exasperation at his silence doesn't have time to take root as a seedling fear grabs hold of her. She's scared to admit what she already knows, what she always knew deep down. In the back of her mind, she thought Hayes—one of her best friends of late, the first person she told about Minnesota—would always be there, waiting in the wings when she needed him. Her selfishness of the past few months rears its ugly head, smacking her right in the face. As it should.
Her phone vibrates in her hand and a familiar hope springs.
He's finally reaching out to her, she cries in relief.
But visceral disappointment claws at her tightening chest when she sees Nick's name flash across her screen.
It's not until she reads Nick's text telling her he's waiting for her outside that she realizes how long she's been stuck in the same spot in Hayes' office, staring off into space. Paralyzed by her fear, paralyzed by her powerlessness, paralyzed by the unknown.
Resentment festers when she has to abandon her mission to find Hayes and go greet Nick at the hospital entrance in an annoying twist of fate. It grows tenfold when she's forced to plaster a smile on her face to match his and muster up fake, enthusiastic chitchat all throughout dinner to keep him entertained. In between the mindless hums and nods, all she can think about is blowing up Hayes' phone like she wants to, like she needs to. Anything to talk him out of this hasty decision, anything to talk him down. Or more like talk herself off the ledge. Clearly, the shock still hasn't worn off.
Endless hours later, she finally takes her leave of Nick.
When she calls Hayes again to no avail, restlessness consumes her. Laying in bed, phone clutched in her hand, her mind sifts through the memories of the last few months. COVID, the beach, Derek, Hayes, Nick. Her brain sticks on the last one.
It's strange how feelings can change in the blink of an eye. For a long time after she first met Nick, she thought about him. A lot. Even basked in that feeling he reminded her of. Some days, she even saw him as the one who might have slipped away. So, when they bumped into each other in Minnesota and he pursued her aggressively, words like 'kismet' and 'fate' popped up in her mind. And so, she had to give it a shot to quiet those curious voices in her head.
What would it be like now? The voices wondered.
Inevitably, the glaring difference between reality and fantasy gave her whiplash. Whatever spark they had back then seems to have evaporated with real life obligations. Her hectic life filled with kids' homework, play dates and every other sundry activity under the sun, her career… none of it fit with Nick's lifestyle. And now, with the fear of losing Hayes gripping her so tightly, she can see Nick for what he is—an interlude. In him, she sees regression. To that carefree girl she was in her twenties.
Meredith snorts internally. What should have ended after a few flirty dates has prolonged past its expiration date. She had felt the pressure mounting, the pressure to cave to please a man, to keep him in her life because she's a creature that craves intimacy and the thought of being alone still scares her no matter how independent she claims to be.
But sometimes, moments are just moments, not meant to become more, lest you ruin that magic. A magic that only existed at one point in time because they were strangers.
With Nick, there is no tension. Just a lack of intensity she's been ignoring for too long. He says all the right things, but she always wonders if he means them, if he understands the reality of what he's walking into. Or if he's just throwing the words around to get her to capitulate to his whims. With Hayes... everything feels so much bigger. There's a skittishness with him she hasn't experienced in a long time.
In her bed, at one o'clock in the morning, is when her eyes finally open wide to her truth. It's real with Hayes in a way it will never be with Nick.
God! Even now, she's thinking about her wants and her needs, she frets, sickened by her selfishness. All she's left with is disgust at her own actions.
She checks her phone again and still nothing.
Why won't Hayes call her back?
If she could only talk to him, she could get to the bottom of this. She's sure of it.
All lies meant to convince herself.
Restless, she does a very un-Meredith like thing. She rehearses what she's going to say to him, how she's going to convince him to stay put despite everything. She will forsake the excruciating tension of always trying to hide what she's actually feeling and splay herself open to him.
Whatever's going on, I can help you figure it out.
I'm sorry I haven't been here when you needed me.
You don't have to leave.
I'm sorry I haven't been here when you needed me.
I know I've been MIA, but the Minnesota project is winding down and I'll be back full time in Seattle.
I'm sorry I haven't been here when you needed me.
You have to know what you mean to me.
I'm sorry I haven't been here when you needed me.
I can't lose another person. Please. Not you.
In the dead of night, her shitty track record as a friend looms over her like a dark shadow, leaving her filled with dread at losing the hard-earned trust they built over the years, the trust she squandered. Guilt digs its sharp teeth in the muscles of her heart, the pain reaching overwhelming levels.
If she can't fix this, if she can't change his mind...
Her body finally overrides her troubled thoughts and sleep overtakes her.
The next day, Meredith spends the better part of her morning running around, trying to find any general surgeon to take Bailey's hernia repair, when all she wants to do is find Hayes and talk some sense into him.
After countless fruitless searches, when all seems lost and she's almost ready to admit defeat, she spots him in the lobby from her perch above. For a few seconds, she's taken aback by what she spies. Grief clings off him, perhaps even more pronounced now than when she first met him. The look of a man who's had the joy snuffed out of him. That little detail sinks its teeth into her neck. She'd give anything to remove the sadness looming large behind his eyes.
Taking the stairs two at a time, she yells, "Hayes! Hey."
When he turns around with that defeated slump in his shoulders, it takes all the control her body possesses not to pull him into an embrace. A familiar grief lurks in his eyes, a reminder of the bond they share.
Has she ever seen him truly smile, wide and unimpeded by life's tragedies? If so, it's been so long she can't recall. And that's on her.
"I've been looking for you. Do you have a second?" She requests, when all she wants is a lifetime.
"Sure," he breathes out, trying and failing to suppress an exasperated sigh. He leans against a chair, like the act of standing requires too much effort.
"I heard you quit..." her words trail off, praying for a firm denial against all odds.
"I have some cases to hand off. But uh... yeah." The sag in his shoulders deepens as he folds his arm over his chest.
The despair is so pronounced, Meredith discards her rehearsed words and goes for the practical, anything to convince him to stay a little while longer. Anything to give her a little more time to reason with him. "Bailey can't lose you right now."
"I know."
"I've been trying to call you."
"It's been pretty hectic getting the boys packed up."
Fear gnaws at her. This is real. She fights to understand. "So, what? Your whole life flashed before your eyes and you realized you're unhappy here and need to quit?"
How had she not noticed? Had she been so focused on her own pursuits that she let their friendship fall to the wayside?
The reality check threatens to bowl her over.
"Something like that."
She can't keep the confusion and hurt out of her voice, "And your plan was to leave without saying goodbye?"
"Yeah."
Sometimes traumatic events foster change in her, and sometimes, it's men trying to leave without saying goodbye that snaps her into action. The one-word answers and calm demeanour from Hayes aren't nearly enough for Meredith, an affront to her own tendency to ramble.
"Why?" She demands.
He stares at her, his magnetic gaze brewing with so many fleeting emotions and yet, never straying from hers. In those few seconds, she thinks she sees him hedging, reflecting, convincing himself to be honest with her. Every tiny shift beneath the harsh hospital lights revealing new flashes of his soul.
"Because if I said goodbye to you, Grey, I might not actually leave."
Her heart stumbles, stutters, thumps painfully against her chest, her breath arresting. Everything it can do, her heart does, the palpitations almost enough to cause a fainting spell. And then, it stays lodged in her throat, words faltering in their wake.
He's not done eviscerating her.
"In all the years since Abigail died, you're the first person who got it."
How did she not see the depth of his grief when his eyes screamed it so?
"You made me feel less alone."
Lost in his hypnotic gaze, her facade cracks, her poor heart cleaving in a million little pieces, rootless wanderers in her own body.
If I make you feel less alone, why are you leaving? She desperately wants to shout, her brain too scrambled to conjure up any word.
That he felt this way for so long and she never questioned it tears at her. But in the unspoken words, she understands what he doesn't want to say.
He's not ready for a relationship. And he feels guilty about it.
"Thank you for that." He forces a smile. For her sake, most likely. Even now, he's thinking of her.
She shuffles uncertainly on her feet, blood rushing in her ears as reality starts to sink in. She loses all sense of where she is and what to say. Her lips part like a bumbling idiot but no sound comes out.
"Take care," he says in farewell, his eyes telling a story no words could possibly capture.
Hug him, you imbecile!
Do something. Anything!
Instead, almost numb, she absentmindedly answers, "You too."
You too? You too? What the hell is wrong with her? What happened to all her rehearsed words?
They sounded hollow even to her own ears. She wants to say everything her mind is screaming, but it all feels like a lie on her tongue.
Come back.
Please don't go.
Please!
Words fail her as they always do in moments of emotional stress, so humbled she is by his confession.
Please don't go! She wants to implore again, but all her faculties have well and truly escaped and it's impossible for her to string two words together. She can't even muster up a hug, the idea of having him in her arms and truly letting go unbearable. And maybe, for once, she thinks of him. His struggle to even look her in the eyes when he said 'take care' weighs on her. A hug, a step too far, a touch that just might undo them both.
Something monumental shifts inside her at the sight of his forlorn form walking away from her, his pervading hopelessness nearly her undoing. On the verge of coming undone, transfixed by his departing body, her own feels a deep, deep sense of loss the further he pulls away.
Standing there in the lobby, staring mindlessly off into space, a giant lump swells up in her throat, a lump she can barely swallow down. She's always been a little slow on the uptake and minutes pass before the jolt of panic awakens her, the possibility of losing Hayes too daunting to ignore.
Are memories of him the only thing she'll have left once he leaves? She fears.
Will Hayes be yet another person she loses? Another disappointment to muster through?
The knot in her throat triples in size, every thought amplifying her dread by the second.
Does she even have a right to ask him to stay?
Can she continue to be selfish with him?
No matter how many times she tells herself to let him go, to let him find his peace away from her, Meredith can't. She refuses.
Her chest convulses in fear at the very notion. The threat is real this time, the fire is lit under her and instincts take over. Sometimes, that's what it takes to awaken the beast. The caged animal inside her bursts free, refusing to stand still any longer. It's her turn to fight for him to stay like he fought for her to live. And that's all the push she needs to get her feet moving and race off to find him.
He's always the one making the effort. Now, it's her turn to return the favour.
Hayes' head whips up when Meredith bursts into his office like a mad woman on a tear, his door practically flying off its hinges.
Head tilted to the side, a frown mars his face, eyebrows furrowing in deep confusion. He stands frozen, his hands holding a bottle of whiskey he was about to place in the cardboard box on his desk.
The staring contest lapses a little too long, veering straight into comical territory. Her, panting from exertion with a glint of urgency unlike any she's felt in years, and him, stunned into silence.
"Hayes," she finally acknowledges.
"Grey?" He asks, a clear question lacing the single sound of her surname.
Always Hayes and Grey. Like some kind of Regency romance. If she were honest with herself for a minute, she would admit to yearning to hear his 'Grey'.
When will it ever be Meredith and Cormac? She wonders. Will it ever be Meredith and Cormac?
"No!" The vehement refusal springs from her lips before she can stop it, but once it's out, her fighting spirit is unleashed.
Meredith storms towards his desk. Standing across from him, she grabs the box away from him and starts unpacking his things in a hurry, tossing everything rapidly on his desk.
Head shaking, her frantic pleas make waves in the stillness of the room, "No, no, no! I'm NOT losing another person. No!" The last 'no' is emphatic, her desperation permeating through.
He opens his mouth as if to argue with her, but she cuts him off with a look. The look of a crazed lunatic who won't hear reason, a person on the verge of an epic meltdown.
"You're not leaving," she repeats, categorically and selfishly refusing to believe this is the end.
The raw distress in her manic eyes pierces the shield he's donned the last few months, wrapping his pummeled heart in a warm embrace. At their standoff, a memory floats to the surface. He's reminded of Ellis' stubborn streak when trying to wrestle the tablet from her siblings anytime they called to talk to their mom last year, the resemblance uncanny.
The moment stretches around them. She, the picture of awkwardness; he, the epitome of control. Always. He fixes her with a confused stare that only compounds her nerves.
"What?" Meredith spits out, when the last thread of sanity finally snaps in her, the long pause rendering her too uneasy.
"I—I'm—I'm not sure what this is."
That Hayes didn't expect she would fight for him hurts. Unbelievably so. Guilt-ripping-her-neck-out hurt. But can she blame him after her disappearing act of the last few months?
"This isn't Roman Holiday. I'm asking you to stay."
The out-of-context reference eludes him. "Roman Holiday?"
She puffs out a breath filled with exasperation, "The movie. Obviously!"
And then a light switch is flipped and her reference clicks. She won't let him leave like Joe let Princess Ann leave. Meredith will ask him to stay, unlike Joe. She will be selfish.
She pushes forth, "More than that, I will stop you if I have to. I will plead. I will block the door. I will do everything in my power to convince you to stay." Desperation imbues her cracking voice.
His confusion turns to amusement. Years after their introduction, Hayes still marvels at how her mind veers into the fantastical at times. He ducks his head on his chest and tries to bite back his smile. The vision of his one-hundred-pound-soaking-wet friend trying to stop him... Yes, he struggles not to laugh.
"If I'm being perfectly honest, I didn't expect this reaction from you."
Her breath hitches. And then her jaw clenches in anger. Anger directed at herself and no one else. She truly only has herself to blame. That doesn't mean his comment doesn't drive a blunt dagger through her heart.
Rounding his desk, Hayes comes to stand in front of her. Perhaps sensing her impending implosion, he guides her over to his couch. Anything to calm her frenzied panic.
She sinks into the sofa, the tension of the last two days overwhelming her. She turns to face him.
"I'm just—I'm trying to understand why you're leaving. Really. It's not like you to do something so impulsive. It sounds more like me, honestly," she says, cracking a joke.
He mulls her question over, biting his lower lip as well as the inside of his cheek. The silence starts to eat at her before he finally answers her, "There are some things I can't tell you, Grey. Trust me, it's better this way."
Meredith sits back, eyeing him questioningly.
"Does it have anything to do with your hypothetical questions in the ER yesterday?"
He immediately shifts in his seat and she knows she's touched a nerve. Turning slightly away from her, she wonders if it's a sign of his unfailing honesty that he doesn't want to look her in the eyes when he has to evade the truth.
"When I say I can't tell you, I'm not trying to be difficult or mysterious. I—"
"If you did something or if something happened, I can help!"
At that, he finally glances sideways at her and bestows her with a mournful smile.
"That's very kind, Grey, but—"
She shakes her head rapidly, cutting him off, "I know people!"
He releases a hoarse chuckle despite himself, "That doesn't sound ominous, at all..."
"I'm serious."
"In truth, it doesn't involve me specifically."
She stills. Recognition tingles in every fiber of her being. He's protecting someone, she surmises. And that, she understands all too well. It forces her to re-evaluate her strategy.
"Is this good deed you're doing the only reason you quit?"
His eyes snap back to hers, narrowing at her pointed—and calculated—line of questioning.
Everything in his gaze paralyzes her. The vulnerability cracking through, the honesty coming in flashes, the pain, the grief.
"Grey... You helped open my heart again, helped me see that life after everything was possible, but I'm—I'm not ready. And I don't know that I'll ever be ready."
Finally, the truth comes to light. Her eyes soften in understanding.
"I know," she implores. "Who gets that more than me?"
She cocks her head to the side, fighting against her losing will to edge closer to him. "There is no set timeline to follow here." In the back of her mind, the pesky reminder of a Minnesota doctor buzzes around but she swats it away like the insignificant annoyance it is.
"I can wait," she adds, hoping her eyes convey everything she can't bring herself to say as eloquently as his always do, everything he deserves to know.
"Meredith..." Her name, a lyrical melody from his mouth.
His gaze turns downward to the fingers twisting in his lap. "I can't ask that of you. I won't."
With the last remnants of her bold resolve, she compels herself to confess the truth.
"We are NOT the interlude." A strangled sob catches in the back of her throat. "It's hard for me to really open up to people. To put myself out there. To talk about Derek. But with you, there is never any fear, never any choice. And I know I haven't been there for you recently, with everything going on with Austin, with you, but the project is almost done and things can go back to the way they were."
"You survived a horrible ordeal and you wanted to do something groundbreaking. I don't begrudge you for taking on this amazing opportunity—"
She cuts him off, admitting sheepishly, "Maybe you don't, but I do. I've—I've been a bad mother and a bad friend to you."
"You haven't! I wasn't honest with you. It's not your fault."
She squints a fake glare his way, "Is this a competition for who was most wrong? Because I will win every time."
"Always have to one up every one, don't you?"
She shrugs her shoulders at his teasing, her renowned drive something she's not ashamed of anymore.
They sit in silence for a few moments before she pivots back to the issues at hand, "How do the boys feel about moving to Ireland?"
His blink-and-you-miss-it wince, the evidence of her well-aimed jab.
"They're—they're cross with me," Hayes snorts. "Quite loud about their disapproval, in fact."
"Can you blame them?"
A deep sigh exits his body. Leaning forward, his elbows settle on his knees as he rubs the tension out of his eyes. Head hanging, he peeks sideways at her, "No, I can't. Am I making a monumental mistake?"
"Are you running away? Or running towards something?"
He falters, a scowl pinching his features. On autopilot for the last few days, his impetuousness—and recklessness—at last catches up to him.
Meredith releases him from the hold his tortured, internal struggle has on him, "I just don't want you to leave if you're running away. I—I can't bear to think of you in pain, away from..."
The worry lines etched on her face and her wobbling lip can't be disguised as anything but concern. Concern laced with the deep, abiding, soul-binding friendship she shares with him.
And then, words tumble out of her, unbidden by sense and reason, her brain-to-mouth filter taking a complete leave of absence, Meredith regales him with her post-Derek dating tales to put him at ease, the first of which has Hayes cracking up.
"At least you were able to acknowledge that you weren't ready before you let things go too far. I freaked out on the first guy I slept with." She brings her hands up to hide her embarrassed face, mumbling under her breath, "I can't believe I'm telling you this."
"I dated a guy who's missing fiancée turned out to be not-so dead."
The laughs in him unravel, the tension of the last two days slipping away. Her appeal runs deep, the lack of any artifice a blessing. Through her stories, he gets a glimpse of what she must have been like before. When smiles weren't as hard to come by, when laughs weren't as hard-earned, when getting out of bed in the morning didn't feel like the hardest struggle known to man.
"What you're going through, it's normal. You're not alone."
And for the first time in a long time, he doesn't feel so alone.
She grabs his hand suddenly, the push and pull towards him too strong and too tempting to resist. It's the second time they've touched in as many days, but the craving won't be stuffed back in the closet. The first, a light touch to the back of his head to examine him and heal him. The second, a moment of comfort.
He flips her hand out, the pad of his fingers running along the inside of her wrist. Her pulse soars. By the hint of a smile gracing his lips, he feels it.
It's been a long time since they've talked like this, everything out in the open. And that's entirely her fault. She feels it so much now. The distance she created as a defense mechanism.
"If you think moving is truly the right move for you and the boys, I won't try and stop you," Meredith says, her quivering voice belying her words. It might kill her to watch him go this way, worse off than when he came, but if she holds his best interest at heart, she'll let him go.
His willpower is nonexistent. What willpower? He has none when it comes to her.
Maybe it's her pleading tone. Or maybe it's the feeling of being wanted, but the decision tumbles out of him, "I'll stay. A little while longer, at least."
"You will?"
"I will."
Her heart sings with joy—real joy—not that lie manufactured out of a pathetic need to fill some void she had since recovering from COVID.
He blindsides her with his glowing grin. Her shoulders ease, a smile she can't be bothered to fight emerges and suddenly her entire face lights up. She can't curtail the sweeping relief.
"I suppose I better go inform the Chief. May God have mercy on me," he mutters, pushing himself to a standing position.
She follows suit, right behind him.
"I'm going with you to tell Bailey."
He stops so short, she walks into his back.
Glancing over his shoulder in her direction, a slow-spreading smile unfurls along his lips. "Don't you trust me?"
A fierce blush stains her cheeks for a hot beat as his gaze burns her. One of her eyebrows lifts pointedly. The idea of letting him out of her sight feels unfathomable at this point, lest he try to fade into oblivion.
"I'm not taking any chance."
And into the abyss they fell together.
Yes, she still has to deal with Nick. But the fact that he hasn't crossed her mind once in the last few hours… tells her everything she needs to know.
