Meredith bursts through the front door of their house nearly in a full-blown panic attack.
Derek, who was sitting at the table, is up and at her side instantly. He provides her space, not touching her, but tries to make eye contact.
She's breathing heavily, uncontrollably, fear wild in her eyes. "Derek-"
"Meredith, calm down. You need to breathe. Look at me, okay? I'm here, you're here. We're both safe." He maintains a calm, low voice, one he knows usually does the trick for situations like these.
"Derek- I'm afraid- I'm terrified- I can't-" she stutters, unable to form a complete sentence.
He steps closer to her. "Can I touch you?"
Meredith gives him a tiny nod, and Derek instantly pulls her into his arms. She's so tense, he pulls her head down to his chest, making sure her ear is resting over his heart. This, he's learned, also usually does the trick.
"What are you afraid of?" He soothes, rubbing his hands up and down her back gently, grounding her.
Meredith doesn't answer, still struggling to breathe in his arms. He takes deep, exaggerated breaths, encouraging her to do the same. Meredith mimicks them to the best of her ability.
When she can finally speak clearly, she forces her words out, "I'm afraid...I'm afraid of me."
Derek frowns, pulling back abruptly to look at her. "You're afraid of yourself?"
Embarrassment flushes through Meredith as she nods, still catching her breath as she sinks into a chair at the kitchen table and puts her head in her hands.
"I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you."
Derek's confusion deepens. "What? You? Hurt me? I'm at least twice your size."
Meredith's expression darkens and hardens. "Just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you can beat seven years of training and experience in hand-to-hand combat."
He steps back again. Why the hell didn't he know she was trained in fistfighting?
"I have flashbacks all the time, Derek. When I'm there...I have no idea what's happening here. I always, always search for my gun first. How fucked up is that? I search for my gun. Then, when I can't find it, I prepare to defend myself with my hands. I'm so terrified of waking up and thinking you..."
"I'm a bad guy, and you try to hurt me?" Derek finishes for her. Meredith only nods.
They fall silent. There's not really anything Derek can say to that. He opens his mouth and closes it again, trying to come up with something. But Meredith says something first, looking up at him with teary, guilty eyes.
"I-Teddy gave me this brochure...it's a support group. For injured veterans. They meet tonight. I think-I think I'm gonna go. I think I need to go. I can't feel like this anymore."
That night, Meredith takes a deep breath, then slowly pushes open the door and steps into the cool room. She stands in the back for a moment, taking in the soft conversations of about twenty people standing or sitting throughout the room. On the back wall near her is a long table with coffee, refreshments, and other small snacks. The chairs are scattered in an imperfect semicircle in the center of the room, facing a podium.
Derek drove her here, and she knows he's going to sit out in his car until she's out of sight just in case she changes her mind.
Unsurprisingly, Meredith suddenly wants to leave. She steps back, feeling stupid for even wanting to come in the first place. She swallows thickly and turns to go back out the door when an amused voice stops her.
"My God, are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Colonel Dr. Meredith Grey?"
Meredith stops in her tracks, biting her lip. The voice is from a female, with a hint of a Spanish accent in it. Meredith turns, coming face to face with a woman, smiling at her.
"Remember me? Captain Ivy Hernandez." She's tall and muscular, with tanned skin and short straight black hair. Freckles litter her face and her eyes are a deep brown. There's a dark scar next to her right eye, falling vertically. Whatever caused it just barely missed her eye.
"Um..." Meredith studies Ivy, the face is slightly familiar but she can't really place it. "I'm sorry, I don't-"
"No, it was stupid of me to ask. You probably have seen thousands of people since you operated on me."
"I operated on you?"
"We met in the Navy, I was on the same ship as you when it collapsed. Then, three years later I was leading a mission with a group of SEALs, and...eventually, I made my way back to base in critical condition- on your table. You saved my life." Ivy drops a few more details about her case, and that's when it hits Meredith.
"Oh my god, Captain Hernandez, I'm so sorry I didn't remember. It's so good to see you doing so well." Meredith smiles.
"Please, it's Ivy. Been off duty since that day and to be fair, we probably actually spoke to each other twice after the surgery before I was shipped back off to the states."
"No, I remember now. You lead the invasion of the Black Masks testing site. Successfully disarmed a bomb, right?"
Ivy smiles and nods, "That bomb would have taken out everything in a ten-mile radius, including three US camps." She then changes the subject. "What about you? How long have you been back in the States?"
"A couple of months now. I was injured during my ninth tour in Iraq and sent back here for treatment."
"Can you go back?"
"No, I'll never be back to one-hundred percent."
"Damn, that's the worst way to leave. I feel you, though," as Ivy speaks, she bends to lift the bottom of her loose jeans, revealing a metal prosthetic leg.
Meredith feels a pang of guilt instantly. She remembers clearly, it was her decision to amputate the leg above the knee. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Don't be sorry, Colonel. I was mad at you at first, but it came down to my life or my leg, and I'll never be more grateful that you chose my life. It was the right choice."
Meredith nods, grateful that Ivy understands the call she had to make. "Call me Meredith."
"First time here, Meredith?"
"Is it that obvious?" She chuckles nervously.
"A little. Why don't you come sit? We'll start in a minute."
Meredith hesitantly follows Ivy towards the middle of the room, thanking God when Ivy takes a seat towards the back. Around her are mostly men, ranging in age. Some of them walk with limps or canes or have visible scars.
Meredith takes a calming breath, remembering Ivy's case. The captain is a high-ranking Navy SEAL who led a mission to take down a terrorist organization in the Middle East called The Black Masks. It's highly confidential, only about one-hundred high ranking people in the US military and government know about this. Meredith and Teddy were the only two medics at a Black Site in Saudi Arabia while the operation was happening.
Meredith is jerked out of her thoughts by an older-looking man standing at the podium. Everyone else is seated and gazing intently at him, so Meredith does the same.
"Good evening. I'm glad you all could make it tonight. We have some new faces here, so I'll introduce myself. I'm Sargent Collin Gotlinger, and I served four years in the US Army. I've been coming to group therapy here for two and a half years now." His voice is deep and raspy. "I was injured in a massive gunfight at the end of my career, and my life has never been the same. Months of recovery lead only to me being able to walk with a cane, and I don't have full function of my legs."
Meredith inhales sharply. That was almost her. If she hadn't had Derek as her surgeon...who knows how she could have ended up?
"Collin's been leading this thing for the months I've been coming. He's a really nice guy." Ivy whispers to Meredith without making eye contact.
Meredith leans over to whisper a reply back into Ivy's ear, but she turns and faces Meredith. "If you're gonna whisper something, you gotta do it in my left ear. I'm pretty much deaf in the right."
Oh. Meredith hadn't realized that. She shakes her head, "It can wait."
Ivy nods and returns to the front of the room. Collin is discussing what they went over last time, and Meredith drops her gaze to fumble with the hem of her sweater. Minutes pass, and she hears a new voice echo through the room and perks up.
"I've been writing things down. I got this journal. The first pages are for my triggers, and after that, I just...write. If I wake up in the middle of the night I write my thoughts. I detail my dreams and flashbacks. I don't entirely know if it's helping yet, though." Ivy's voice is unwavering, and Meredith is completely confused as to how she's able to share so much so openly with so little shame.
"I've kept a journal too..." someone else across the room speaks up, and it leads to a discussion about how journaling is a great, effective coping method.
This partially catches Meredith's attention; maybe she should try it.
Twenty minutes later, Ivy nudges Meredith. "You should introduce yourself. You don't have to go into any details, but tell everyone your name, rank, how long, and where you served."
"When?" Meredith hadn't said a word the whole time, instead listening and observing everyone else. She's painfully aware of the multiple gazes of people all around burning into her, questioning.
"When there's a lull in the conversation. Just start talking. No big deal." She gives her a reassuring smile.
Meredith nods and bites her lip. It takes a few minutes before the discussion dulls, and Meredith finally clears her throat. "Uh, hi everyone. This is, uh, this is my first time here, so I'll introduce myself. I'm Colonel Dr. Meredith Grey and I served in the Navy for three years and Marines for four as a field surgeon. I got back to the states a few months ago for a surgery to save my life and function in my lower body."
"Welcome, Colonel," the entire group choruses softly.
"Call me Meredith," her voice wavers slightly, and she bites her lip. Under the stares of twenty people, she suddenly flushes and feels uncomfortably hot.
"I owe Meredith here my life," Ivy speaks up suddenly, and Meredith has never been more grateful for all the attention to be off of her. "When I was rescued, she was the only doctor around, and she worked for hours to make sure I came off the operating table alive. She's a damn good surgeon."
Meredith smiles, and people around her in the group exchange looks.
"Wait, like, the abdominal wall transplant Meredith Grey?" A man a few seats from her asks.
"Yes, I came up with that in the Marines after I lost a patient whose entire midsection was almost completely gone from a blast."
The man smiles. In a quick motion, he lifts his t-shirt up slightly, exposing a large, circular scar around his stomach. "My life was saved by the abdominal wall transplant."
All nervousness and embarrassment from before disappears and is replaced with a warm sense of pride and amazement. Meredith smiles even larger. "I...I don't really know what to say."
"Don't say anything." The man approaches her and extends a hand. "I'm Lance Corporal Travis Sharma. Thank you."
Meredith nods graciously, and the conversation moves on. She exhales in relief. This isn't what Meredith was expecting at all. The attention isn't all on her, and no one looks at her strangely or forces her to share. At the end, Collin gives a closing speech, and Meredith realizes she enjoyed herself.
To her surprise, everyone gets up and mingles with each other. The atmosphere is warm, and Meredith feels at ease. She's surrounded by people who understand.
"Where are you staying? Can you drive yet?" Ivy asks, standing by Meredith.
She chuckles. "Actually, I'm living with my boyfriend. I was supposed to call him to pick me up."
"Whoa, boyfriend? You've been back for what, five minutes and you have a boyfriend?"
"To be fair, he was my surgeon. Been with me since the moment I got back."
"Damn, okay. You go, Grey." Ivy smiles. "So, there's this diner across the street with some great apple pie. Would you want to get a slice with me? Maybe talk some more?"
"That would be great," Meredith decides after a moment of hesitation. Besides the doctors at Seattle Grace, she doesn't have any friends. Hopefully, that will change tonight.
On the way there, Meredith calls Derek.
The ringing of his phone jerks him out of his pacing across the living room. He sprints over to the table where the small device lay, relieved when he sees Meredith's name on the screen.
"Hey, are you okay? Should I come pick you up?" He offers immediately, wanting to find out how she's doing after her first session.
"Actually, I was just letting you know I'm headed to this diner across the street with an old friend. I'll be a little while longer. We're gonna talk."
"Oh," he says, surprised. Then, he smiles, grateful that she's agreeing to talk to someone, "Just call me whenever."
"Okay. Bye." She hangs up and walks into the diner. It's got a very clean, sharp design. They sit across from each other at a booth.
"So, what did you think?" Ivy prompts, glancing over the menu.
"I think that I haven't had a good slice of apple pie since before my first deployment. I may need two tonight."
Ivy laughs, "You and I are going to be great friends."
They order quickly, and Ivy dives into a story about one of her deployments. Meredith follows up with one of her own and the pie arrives. Both women dig in, enjoying the delicious treat.
"When I got back, I was confined to a wheelchair. It was awful. I was in a really dark palace, pushing away all my friends and family who just tried to help me. I felt so useless, like I wasn't worth a damn thing. Honestly, a couple of times, I wished you hadn't saved my life."
Meredith studies the woman across from her, feeling a mix of emotions as Ivy speaks softly and avoids her gaze.
"It's been two years since that day. I'm still pretty messed up, but I don't feel like that anymore. And I think a big part of it was joining this group. I hated the idea of therapy, and this really helped. I'm glad you joined us."
Meredith drops her fork, now finished with her pie. Biting her lip briefly, she replies. "I...believe it or not, I feel the same way. My base was struck with a Hellfire missile and I was impaled through and through with a large piece of shrapnel. It's a goddamn miracle that I'm alive and breathing right now, and it took more major surgeries than I can count as well as continuous physical therapy to get me to where I am now. It's so different than how my body used to be, it's almost embarrassing. Now, I'm not only dealing with the physical side of things, but mentally, the effects of being deployed for seven years..."
"It's really, really hard." Ivy finishes for her, nodding.
"That's an understatement." Meredith gives her a tiny smile.
"I understand completely."
Something inside Meredith snaps at Ivy's last statement, and suddenly, words come flooding out. Meredith talks and talks about her recovery, how difficult it is for her to do anything, and Ivy sits quietly, attentively listening to every word.
The next time Meredith looks around, the diner is empty except for them, and it's pitch dark outside.
"Oh my God, I rambled." She glances at the time. "It's so late. I didn't mean to keep you. I tend to ramble a lot. Why didn't you stop me?"
Ivy offers her a warm smile. "How do you feel right now? In comparison to how you felt this morning when you woke up, before coming?"
Meredith stops to think about it for a moment. After talking with Ivy for so long, revealing some of the darkest things she's seen that she hasn't wanted to tell anyone- she feels so much better. Like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.
Ivy takes her silence as an answer. "Let me give you my phone number. Call or text me anytime, day or night."
Meredith does as she's asked, and the two women begin to collect their things and stand to leave. To her surprise, Ivy wraps Meredith in a big hug.
"Let's meet up again soon, okay? And I'll see you at the next meeting?"
Meredith nods, a genuine smile on her lips. "Definitely."