I was surprised that you liked Ellis' POV...thought a lot of people might not. But I enjoyed writing her, she was really great and had a cool sense of humor. So of course Shonda killed her.Anyway, read on!
Mistakes. She's made them, covered them, learned from them and regretted them.
She's been forgiven for them, hated fir them, laughed at and ridiculed.
This, though, right in front of her? One of her biggest mistakes, the one that could cost her her whole, carefully built life.
Lexie Grey. Thatcher's daughter.
She knew about her, of course. She knew he married Susan, that they had a baby. She sent a gift, in fact, after she was born. A gesture of goodwill.
Her ex-husband is Lexie's father. He's Meredith's father - the father she asked about twenty times a day for years after the divorce. Crying and pleading at first, then resigned, then finally scathing.
He never called, never asked to see Meredith. It was, Ellis supposes, better this way. Meredith could grow up to be the star she knew she would be, unencumbered by Thatcher's mediocrity. And she did.
Richard is, for all intents and purposes, Meredith's father. He taught her to ride a bike (Ellis helped.) He went to Father's Day. He vetted boyfriends and taught her to drive and practiced dancing with her in her high heels before prom. Richard is her father.
Thatcher poured her cereal.
But Lexie is not Ellis' daughter, or her stepdaughter, or any responsibility of hers at all. So, she tells herself, it's not her business.
And so, she says nothing.
"Is there anyone we can call for you?" she asks stiffly.
"No." the girl scowls darkly, teenage Meredith etched on her features. She can't be more than twenty-two. Thatcher married Susan the year after she and Meredith left, she calculates. The girl was born maybe a year later.
"You said... your sister works here?" Jackson says, stepping into the room and closing the door neatly behind him. She refrains from groaning with the utmost effort. The boy has been stepping on her toes since yesterday.
"Yes." Lexie says guardedly. "But she doesn't ... know me."
"You can't go home alone." Jackson persists. He's so much like Catherine it isn't even funny. "You need someone to-"
"There. Is. No one." Lexie grits her teeth. "Let me sign whatever the hell I have to and get me out of here."
"You have three puncture wounds in your chest wall, you're going nowhere." Jackson assures her. "But...I bet since your sister works here, and is probably a doctor...we could let you go a little earlier. She could help you."
Lexie opens her mouth. Hesitates. It's clear that the hospital, for whatever reason, is making her nervous. She wants out.
Ellis searches frantically for something to say, to stop the words tumblimg from Lexie's mouth, to keep the secret just a little longer - but her mind deserts her at the last moment.
"Meredith. Her name is Meredith Grey."
Weber Ellis thinks feebly. Meredith is no Grey.
"Derek."
Perfect.
"Derek."
Poker face, he thinks to himself. Keep walking.
"Hey, Golden Gloves!" Mark bellows; half the people milling around the wait area pause to stare. Great.
He ducks his head and walks a little faster to the elevators, hopingnhis ywars of track have made him faster than Mark, who (of course) played football. He knows from experience that it hasn't.
Mark catches up to him just as he's pushing the button for the seventh floor, wedging himself through the doors just as they begin to close. "You deaf?"
He pretends to be mute as well, pressing his lips together. How slow is this elevator?
"Where are you going?" Mark asks instead, looking impressively unwinded by their dash through the corridor.
"You look constipated when you do that," Mark says seriously, peering closely at him. "You aren't, are you?"
"Of course not." he spits, before realising that was exactly what Mark was after.
"Good. Or maybe your little resident could have given you an enema."
"Shut up."
"Why? Are her...medical skills not up to par? Or did you not bother about those at all, just her-"
"None of your business." he says, glaring at the numbers ticking slowly by. Three floors to go. Mark shakes his head disparagingly at him.
"I thought you had better taste."
"Clearly, I have terrible taste in women." Derek mutters, scuffing the floor with his sneaker. He stops, because Addison hates when he does that. Then he remembers what Addison said to him, and starts scuffing with a vengeance.
Mark's face turns ruddy. "Addie was an exception, then."
"Where do you get off defending my wife?" he demands furiously, turning to Mark.
"Because you never do," Mark snarls back. "You're a shit husband, Derek, you have been for years. Don't blame her for your marriage falling apart."
"She told me she was in love with you," Derek reminds him. "And I was supposed to be Husband of the Year after that?"
Mark snorts derisively. "You never were, except the first few years. God, you two were nauseating then."
"You probably enjoyed it." Derek spits. "Seeing as you couldn't keep your hands off her."
He doesn't realise for a moment why his face is searingly hot, or why he can see little sparks dancing across Mark's face. Then he realises he's been punched.
"You-"
"Shut it." Mark says calmly. "I taught you to throw a punch. You can't get one up on me, so listen. Addison - it wasn't a game. With her, it was never a game. I waited. I did the right thing. We told you everything, and when she said she wanted to try to make things work with you? I backed off. I never called after you guys left New York. You're my family, Derek, you're all I have but I still let you go. That's how I feel about her, so you don't get to cheapen that. Got it?"
Amd then he strides off the elevator ahead of him, leaving him with a rising red mark on his jaw and a staring horde of nurses.
..
"You know, it wasn't supposed to be like this." he whispers, cradling her little body semi-expertly while he tucks the ends of her pink blanket in. She stares at him, one small hand waving aimlessly.
"I'm sorry," he continues, capturing her hand to tuck it in; she grasps his finger with a surprisingly strong grip and he smiles. "I love you, and your mom loves you, but-"
"Dr. Shepherd."
"What." he snaps irritably, turning around. He startles Grace, who whimpers and then starts to wail.
It's Bailey, quivering and stuttering. Addison did a rather accurate impression of her one night after a couole of strong martinis, wringing her hands and stammering.
"Uh, Dr. Shepherd - the other one, your wife...I mean, your...you know, the other Shepherd-"
"Addison." he supplies.
"Yes, her. She, uh, she wants the baby?"
"Are you asking if she wants to keep her child in the long term?" he asks wearily. "Or telling me she wants the baby right now? Because I'm fairly sure she'd choose the second option."
"Yes sir, you're right sir, I meant the second option-"
"Where is Addison?" he asks kindly, with a great deal of effort. Addison is always a stickler for being nice to the help.
Although he's certain she won't count what happened last night as being nice.
"I'm here." she announces, swiveling a wheelchair neatly into the doorway of the nursery. "Bailey, I plan to take my baby home today."
He sighs as Bailey starts spluttering her apologies, gently bouncing a screaming Grace. "Bailey, thanks for your help. I'll let you know if we need anything."
He sinks into the rocking chair by the window, holding his daughter to his shoulder, rocking gently. She howls louder, feet drumming his chest.
"Give." Adsison rolls her eyes at him, cooing at the little red face as she tries to soothe her.
"She's probably hungry." says a nurse brightly. "Dr. Shepherd-"
"Yes?" they chorus.
The nurse flushes. "Um. Montgomery-Shepherd. I know you're the best there is with babies, but I've got three of my own, and trust me, it's always harder when they're yours." She smiles encouragingly. "Go ahead."
"What?" Addison asks blankly, forehead creasing as the shrieks increase in volume.
"Feed the baby." the nurse prompts. "I can leave, you might be a little shy, since you're my boss-" she pales suddenly. "And I should not have mentioned that. Okay. Leaving."
And she's gone, leaving a stunned Addison and a useless-feeling Derek in her wake.
"I'll, uh," she says uncomfortably, shifting the baby in her arms, fiddling with the buttons on her shirt.
"Should I -" he gestures to the door then sits back down. "Addie, I've seen you naked more times than anyone cares to know about. I'm not going to hide every time she need to eat."
"Fine." Addison mutters in reply, but she still drapes a blanket over her shoulders. Winces, tapping Grace's foot. "Little piranha."
She snuffles greedily, kicking contentedly. "Guess she was just hungry." he says, bemused.
"It's hard."Addison admits, worry etched across her exhausted face. "I know how to make them better. I don't think I've ever had to take care of a baby that was, you know, healthy."
The only babies he's seen up close have been his sisters', but even then he was the dotinguncle and occasional babysitter. The thought of being solely responsible for the wellbeing of this tiny person is enough to bring his heart hammering into his mouth.
"It's going to be fine." he says mechanically.
"How?" she hisses, gesturing with the hand not clamped to Grace. "How can you even say that Derek, we're not even together-"
"We're still her parents." he hisses back. "We love her."
"That's not enough, we were in love and look at us now!"
"You're one to talk." he says, stung. "You told me you wanted out of our marriage before we even moved here."
"And yet here I am." she whispers loudly.
"Well, honey, it isn't like I dragged you here-"
"Did you just call me honey? Don't call me honey." she replies, checking on Grace.
"Fine. Dr. Shepherd, you agreed to come. You said you wanted to try again. Not to mention the very lucrative contract Ellis dangled-"
"Not that again." she groans. "You're still jealous?"
"No!" he emphasises. "I'm just saying...we're both responsible for what happened to our marriage. I'm saying Grace deserves both her parents. I'm saying-"
"A lot of things. You are saying a lot of things." Addison mumbles, stroking Grace's back. "The way I see it, there are three options - one, we stay together, be miserable, and make Grace's life miserable. Two, we ... go our own ways, but we're both happier and Grace doesn't have to deal with cranky bickering parents." She coos the last few words, lifting the baby to her shoulder and rubbing her back.
"And three?" he asks, hastily draping a cloth over Addison's shoulder. "You only said two."
"There is no third option." Addison admits. "All I know is that I love you." she says to Grace, turning her head to kiss her belly.
"You might be right about the second option." he concedes.
Grace burps.
"Hey." Yang says, sounding insultingly surprised.
"I study." Meredith replies. "I study all the time. You don't have to look so shocked to see me in the library."
"Did I say I was surprised?" Yang asks, sitting down beside her and flipping open her laptop.
"No." she answers, momentarily stymied. "But you sounded surprised."
"I thought your royal genes were enough for you to get by." Yang says seriously. "Sorry."
"I don't have... royal genes." she splutters.
"Ellis Grey?" Yang says, incredulous. "Surgery is all over your DNA. You're...inbred. You have surgical pedigree."
"I study." she says, finding nothing better to say. "And if anyone's pedigreed, it's my sister. Ellis Grey and Richard Weber. She couldn't have been anything but a surgeon if she tried."
"True." Yang says. "Hey, speaking of your kid sister, she did a pretty cool pericardiocentesis in the ER today. Totally hardcore."
"I stopped being surprised at Maggie when she was three." she replies. "How's the patient?"
"High as a kite, apparently. It's the one who ran off with Avery's ID card yesterday. Now, he's definitely inbred. Pretty, but inbred."
"Huh." she replies. "The one we shocked?"
"Yup."
"Jackson said she's really smart, has a photographic memory or something." she says distractedly. "She'd be a top notch surgeon without having to slog."
"Wanna go see if she remembers Avery's code?" Yang snickers, perking up. "We could use it to mess with his time records. Lock him out before he hits eighty hours. Think of all the surgeries we could steal from him."
"Yeah," Meredith says. "Lets go."
"What the-" he stumbles over something soft on the floor, whacking his head against the wall.
"Ow."
It's small, but distinct. The heap definitely said something.
"Wh- Meredith?" Derek asks, recoiling. "What the hell?"
"I have a sister." she sobs.
"Yes...?" he says slowly. "Margaret. I met her, she's very nice."
"And I never even knew her." Meredith gasps, rocking back and forth. "I never even knew."
"Ellis said you two are close." he says, mystified. He needs his wallet from his office and then he's good to go. Addison and Grace are ready and waiting, Addison having consented to spending at least the night in their own home. The last thing he needs is a hysterical one-night-stand.
"No, not Maggie." she whimpers. "Lexie, I have a half sister called Lexie and I never even knew."
She's red-faced, her small body shaking as she tries to draw breath against her clenching muscles. He kneels hesitantly, rubbing tentative circles on her damp back. "Breathe. Meredith, breathe-"
"I can't." she gasps. "I can't, Alex ... and my mother hates me and I let my father die and now my sister might die."
He can make neither head nor tail of what she just said, but she's starting to wheeze and he darts down the hall to a supply closet and returns with a paper bag.
"Breathe." he says gently, taking her slack weight as she falls back against him. Her hair is soft, tickling his nose, and it smells like a flower he can't quite name, but he knows it's his favorite.
"I can't." she whimpers again. "I not supposed to."
"Not supposed to breathe?" he barks a laugh, surprised. "I hardly think so."
"No," she whispers. "I can't sit here with you and listen to you and let you be nice to me...because I'm not supposed to love you. Don't you get it?"
This is definitely MerDer. No, I can't give you an exact time when it becomes MerDer, I write as it comes.
Don't leave rude reviews about Addek on a story that isn't even about them.
And speaking of reviews...please can I have some? They make my day.