Author's Note- Hi, everyone! Sorry that it has been so long without an update. I have been on vacation for the last week in Disneyworld (yes, it was amazing) and before that, I was busy with school and packing etc. This chapter has actually been written for a while but I wanted to make sure it was properly edited before posting it because plot holes annoy me.
Anyway, I worked hard on this chapter so let me know what you think! Not gonna lie, it is pretty angsty and dramatic but what else is new? And it will actually serve as a very important turning point for this story. Hope you enjoy!
It was a restless night. Based on his steady breathing, Derek slept soundly, but Meredith was awake almost constantly, the same words running through her mind… the words that Derek had said to her more than three years ago, when he had proposed marriage…
If there's a crisis, you don't freeze. You move forward. You get the rest of us to move forward. Because you've seen worse. You've survived worse. And you know we'll survive, too. You say you're all dark and twisty. That's not a flaw. That's a strength. It makes you who you are…
Those sentences were all that was urging Meredith forward, at the moment. Or rather, it was that belief that kept Meredith confident enough to continue her act. According to Derek, who in Meredith's opinion, was the greatest human on planet earth, she was the constant, the one that was not traumatized to the same extent as everyone else. Meredith was supposed to be the one that held everyone else up and so that was what she would continue to do.
In order to remain her resilient self, though, Meredith would need a plan. She would need to find someone else to prescribe her more clonazepam and trazodone… asking Dr. Wyatt again was out of the question. And then she would need to figure out a way to fill the script without her psychiatrist knowing.
Surely, there was someone at Seattle Grace, other than April who had gone home to Moline, willing to help out a plane crash survivor…
Early Wednesday morning, Meredith got up, showered, and changed into a simple outfit. She woke-up Zola and Derek, pretended to eat breakfast, and then practically rushed out the door.
"Are you going to visit Lexie?" Derek called after her as she ran towards her newly-acquired Lexus.
"Yeah, but first I have an appointment with Dr. Wyatt. I'm pretty sure she's going to clear me to start working today," Meredith said.
It was fast; none of the other plane crash victims had been allowed to work yet. Cristina was technically working at Mayo, but that was different. She did not have to abide by the same rules as the Seattle Grace employees.
"Okay, good luck!" Derek said. "Remember we're meeting with Bayview at 9:00 tomorrow morning."
"I know," Meredith sighed. The lawsuit was important and she was looking forward to getting some answers about the plane crash but the legal meetings themselves were not going to be fun. Based on her past experiences with patients that had sued the hospital, Meredith knew that all of the survivors were going to be forced to relive their trauma in shocking detail and whether or not Lexie had improved, it was doubtless that Thatcher would be sobbing his eyes out about his poor, precious little girl.
That was not something that Meredith needed to think about yet, though. For right now, all she had to focus on was her appointment with Wyatt. When she arrived at Seattle Grace, Meredith headed straight to the psychiatric floor.
Wyatt's office door was open and the therapist was waiting for her patient.
"Good morning, Dr. Wyatt," Meredith greeted her, pleasantly.
"Good morning, Meredith," Wyatt said in return. Her tone was unreadable but Meredith prayed that her outlook had shifted since the last session.
She sat down on the familiar couch and watched as Wyatt took her place in a chair. "Alright… how are we feeling today?"
"Well, I'm not gonna lie, I'm feeling a little pissed off," Meredith said, launching into her newest plan of attack. "My best friend, Cristina left for Minnesota yesterday. She's not even fully healed, physically, from the plane crash and she's rushing into things. It's not healthy."
"I see," Wyatt said. "But remember, we are not here to talk about Cristina and her trauma. We are here to talk about you, Meredith. Why do you feel so upset about Cristina leaving?"
It was fairly obvious. "Because… I mean, she's my best friend! I'm going to miss her a lot and I don't think she was listening to anything I had to say."
"It does seem like strange timing."
"Exactly… we're about to have our first legal meeting with Bayview Aeronautics. I know bad things have happened here but bad things happen everywhere and Cristina told me she wished that the last five years had never even happened."
"That must have been painful to hear."
"It was," Meredith acknowledged. "I mean, don't get me wrong… some of the last five years have sucked. The shooting and the plane crash but… there's been a lot of beauty, too."
Wyatt made a few notes on her legal pad. "Alright, well… we've already established that you can recognize the beauty in the world, Meredith. Now, it's time to shift our focus. It's time to talk about the parts of your world that aren't quite so beautiful."
"Like… what?" Meredith asked but before Wyatt could answer, she perked up with a new topic. "Oh! I forgot to tell you… I officially signed my new contract yesterday! I'm making more money than I ever have so I decided to reward myself. I bought a new car."
"Really?" Wyatt raised her eyebrows. "Well, that's exciting. What made you decide to do that?"
"I don't know. Derek's been bugging me, saying I need a new car and I figured now was as good a time as any," Meredith lied.
It was a necessary lie. Saying that Cristina had bought a new car so I needed to buy a new car did not seem therapeutic.
"Interesting," Wyatt replied. "What kind of car did you buy?"
"It's a new 2013 Lexus RX 350… it's like a crossover, and it's black."
"Very nice. And I assume that you have been driving it?"
"Well, yeah," Meredith said and then she remembered that she was supposed to get cleared by Wyatt to drive. "Oh, am I not supposed to be doing that? Cause I… I mean, I've felt fine and I have my driver's license…"
Wyatt smiled, tentatively. "No, Meredith, you can drive. I was going to wait a little longer to give you permission but I suppose there's no point in telling you to stop now, if you really do feel alright."
"I feel fine and actually, I think I'm good to start working again, too," Meredith said. "I know I probably can't operate yet but I really feel like I could do consults in the pit."
Now Wyatt's smile disappeared. Her face was frustrated, her body demeanor, agitated. "Hold on, Meredith. I thought you were just telling me that Cristina was rushing things by returning to work so quickly."
"She is but that's different. She's driving across the country to Minnesota and she was nearly committed to the psych ward."
"I see…" Wyatt scrawled down more notes on her legal pad; she stared Meredith up and down and sighed. "No, I'm sorry, Meredith but barely one month has passed since you were trapped in the woods, performing bootleg procedures on your family and friends."
"N-No, I… I didn't do that. I told you, it was Cristina and Mark that…"
"You helped. I know you helped; Cristina spilled everything to Owen Hunt and like I've said before, word travels fast in this hospital."
"So… so what are you saying, that I can't be a surgeon?"
"I'm saying the same thing that I've been telling you this entire time. You have to face your trauma. You have to cry, if that's what it takes and you have to get honest with me about what you're feeling. Until you do that, all you're doing is hiding from your pain and you're going to end up acting impulsively, punishing someone who doesn't deserve it."
"Hold on," Meredith said. "Are you telling me I'm going to shoot up the place like Gary Clark? Kill my colleagues?"
"No, of course not. I'm saying that you are going to snap, Meredith… maybe the person you punish will be yourself. Maybe it will be your husband or your family… but one way or another, one person cannot continue to live like this, hiding from complex trauma. You have to process it or else you will self-destruct and I know you know this. You've said the same thing to patients of your own."
Meredith's mouth flew open; she was prepared to scream at her shrink for suggesting such a thing but then Meredith stopped. She hesitated, and for the first time since beginning trauma therapy, she considered what Wyatt was saying. She was speaking the truth and Meredith knew it. It was just so much harder than anyone, even Wyatt, could comprehend.
"I can't do that," Meredith admitted.
"And why not?"
"Because… because Derek needs me. Derek needs me and… and Lexie needs me and sooner or later, Cristina is going to break and she'll need me. I'm the strong one. I have to be there for everyone else."
Wyatt's face relaxed; it was like she had been waiting for Meredith to say this for weeks… and she probably had been doing exactly that. She smiled again, sadly. "Did someone tell you that? Or is that something you figured out by yourself?"
"Both. When Derek proposed, back in 2010, he told me that that was what made me who I am… that that's why he loves me," Meredith whispered. "He said… when there's a crisis, you don't freeze. You move forward. You get the rest of us to move forward because you've seen worse. You've survived worse and you know that we'll survive, too.
"And then after the shooting, I… I was okay, relatively speaking. I was the one that held everyone else up. How was I okay after a mass-shooting where thirteen people died but I'm not okay now, after a plane crash, when no one died?"
"It doesn't matter," Wyatt said. "It doesn't matter if or why you're not okay. You're not okay, and you admitting that, Meredith, is a huge step in itself."
Meredith did not say anything. She just sat there, staring at the ground.
"So tell me," Wyatt continued. "Is this about Derek? Do you feel like he won't love you anymore if you admit that you're traumatized?"
"I… no," Meredith said and that was not a lie. "No, I… I think that Derek would love me no matter what but that's not the point. The point is… he was not okay. After the shooting, he was beyond depressed and traumatized and I can't let him go through that again. He'll worry about me… obsessively… constantly."
Wyatt nodded. "How do you think Derek would feel if you expressed all this to him?"
"I don't even want to think about that," Meredith said. "He would blame himself… he still blames himself for the shooting, I think, because he was the one that Gary Clark was originally targeting."
"Tell me about the aftermath of the shooting, Meredith. I know Derek was going through a lot but what were you going through? How did you cope?"
Meredith shrugged. "I… I didn't, really. I mean, I didn't really feel the need to… I wasn't traumatized like everyone else. The main thing I was upset about was my miscarriage. I was pregnant and I lost my baby during the shooting."
"So how did you cope with that? How did you cope with your miscarriage? With seeing your husband get shot?" Wyatt pressed.
"I don't know," Meredith said. "I just… I took care of Derek and Cristina. That's what I do; I'm a healer. I take care of others and eventually, I'm okay, too, but it's not working this time. It's not working so I just… I need you to tell me what to do."
There was a long pause. Meredith's chest was heaving up and down with anxiety but she was breathing; she was not going to lose it. The tears in her eyes were helpful; they made the therapy office blurry and prevented Meredith from having to look Wyatt in the face.
Wyatt, who had entirely set aside her legal pad and directed everything towards Meredith. "I can't do that, sweetheart. I'm sorry but I'm sure you know… I can't just give you the answers. I don't have all the answers."
"Well, then… can you refill my clonazepam?"
"Not yet. If this continues, we may reach that point but Meredith, you've already been shoving all of your feelings down. You need to let some of them out and if that means having a panic attack in front of Derek, then so be it. Besides, you've tapered off the benzos, haven't you?"
Meredith shook her head. "N-No, p-please… I'll do anything. I won't abuse them. I'll just… when absolutely necessary… when I feel like I'm going to die."
"Have you been feeling like you want to die?"
"I… no, I'm not suicidal," Meredith said and that, too, was the truth.
"Then you need to be honest. Be honest with Derek and with your other loved ones. Tell them how you feel. Derek wasn't shot this time. He can handle himself."
Derek was not shot this time but it was so much more complicated than that. Derek was dealing with Mark… with his injured hand… with the trauma from the shooting and his father's death. Derek had cried after his first therapy appointment with Rehmani; that said something.
"I'm sorry, I… I can't do anymore today," Meredith said.
"That's perfectly fine. You made a lot of progress today, Meredith; I'm proud of you," Wyatt said. "I'm going to give you an assignment for our next session, alright? Do you think you can do some homework for me?"
Meredith nodded shortly. "I… I'll try."
"Okay… I want you to write down ten words for me… five words that come to your mind when you think of the plane crash and five words that come to your mind when you think of the shooting."
"The shooting? I… I thought we were focusing on the plane crash…"
"We are but we're also focusing on the shooting because unless I am mistaken, you never truly dealt with your trauma from the shooting," Wyatt said. "We don't have to tackle everything all at once. Just write down a few words and we'll go from there."
"Ten words," Meredith clarified and Wyatt nodded.
"Ten words. And if you can, Meredith, although I know I cannot force this upon you, I would highly suggest you have a discussion with Derek. Tell him how you're feeling. Bring him to our next session, if he's willing… I think some couple's therapy would do you two good."
"Okay…" Couple's therapy was usually something that people did when their marriage was on the brink of failure. It was not something that Meredith could ever imagine needing, not with Derek, but she was evidently not an expert in this field.
By the time that she made it out of Wyatt's office, it was past noon and Meredith was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. All of the emotion that she had kept bottled up in her chest for the past month was beginning to seep its way out and Meredith was not sure if she needed to cry or drink heavily.
All Meredith knew was that she could not make it much farther without having a panic attack so she locked herself into the first bathroom she could find and hyperventilated.
Dammit, she thought to herself. After all that, you would think I could at least get some damn clonazepam…
Meredith was still breathing heavily when the pager attached to her jeans went off. She reached for it, curious… Wyatt had not given her permission to start working. Why would someone inside the hospital be paging Meredith?
Her explanation flashed onto the screen and it was the worst case scenario… Mark was paging Meredith 911 to Lexie's ICU room.
This is it. My sister is dying, Meredith realized; she scooped herself off the toilet and began sprinting down the hallway. She skipped the elevators; they were too slow… Meredith jumped down the stairs, two at a time, and only stopped at the ICU entrance when she nearly ran straight into Mark.
"Is she… is she gone?" Meredith asked, unsure whether or not she wanted him to answer.
"What? No," Mark said although his face was pale white and strained with anxiety. "I just came down here for an update and your dad just about killed me."
"They still don't want to let you in?"
"No, it's not even that. They let me come into the room for a little bit and talk to her. Your dad's just really mad at… you, I guess. He says you haven't been around at all for the past week and that you need to have some kind of discussion with him about Lexie's end-of-life wishes."
"Oh… I didn't realize he was planning on including me in that type of thing," Meredith said.
"Well, apparently he is and I was talking with him, too, so I figured we could all do this together. Don't worry, I'll defend you if things get too ugly."
"It's okay. It's my dad; I'm used to it," Meredith said but she did stick close to Mark as the duo walked down the ICU corridor, towards Lexie's quarters.
Thatcher and Molly were waiting, alongside Owen and Nelson who had been Lexie's primary caregivers. Lexie herself looked exactly as she had a week ago… pale, lifeless, breathing only because of the machines connected to her heart and lungs. Her appearance was expected; Meredith would have been more surprised if Lexie's condition had changed but seeing her brilliant sister like this still shredded another layer of Meredith's broken heart.
Everyone had been talking at a rapid pace yet when Mark and Meredith arrived, the room suddenly went eerily quiet… or at least it did until Molly perked up. "Where have you been?! Dad's been trying to get a hold of you for over a week!"
"I… I'm sorry; Derek hasn't been doing well so I've been spending a lot of time with him. Mark's been keeping me updated," Meredith said and she gently nudged Mark in the back of the leg so he would know to play along.
"Yeah, but at least Derek is conscious and out of the hospital. Lexie could be dying; don't you think she's a little more important right now?"
Previously, Molly's communication with Meredith had been civil, even pleasant. Where had this accusatory tone come from? Meredith backed up. "I… excuse me, but you have a husband, too, correct? You must understand what it's…"
"Yes, I do understand," Molly interjected. "I have a husband that I love very much and I haven't seen him in over a month because I've been here with Lexie, constantly. Do you know why? Because I know she would do the exact same thing for me. Until Monday, I hadn't seen my children in a month either but those were sacrifices I was willing to make because Lexie needs me!"
"Okay, okay," Mark said, stepping between the two sisters. "Look, Meredith's here now and this isn't what we need to be talking about, anyway. Let's get on with it; we can play family feud later."
"Thank you, Dr. Sloan," Nelson said and he took a deep breath. "Alright, Grey family… so here is the dilemma. As you know, Alexandra suffered an intracerebral hemorrhage last Monday and ever since, we have witnessed minimal activity in her brain. Medically speaking, she is not braindead but there still is not much chance of her ever waking-up and regaining normal neurological function."
"Yeah, we know all that, Doc," Thatcher whimpered.
"Right, er… well, our Chief of Surgery, Dr. Hunt has researched all of Alexandra's advanced-care directives in her employee file but unfortunately, the only thing we were really able to find is that she appointed her father, Mr. Thatcher Grey as her healthcare proxy. I'm not saying this is the end; there are still a hundred different things that could change in terms of Alexandra's outlook but Dr. Hunt and I agree it is time that you guys start talking, as a family… about options."
"But it's ultimately my decision," Thatcher said. "I mean, I'm her dad… she chose me as her proxy. It's ultimately up to me what we do."
Nelson was looking more uncomfortable by the second so Owen took over. "Yes, it is ultimately your choice, Mr. Grey but like Dr. Nelson said, this is a big decision. One way or another, we encourage you to accept feedback from your other family members."
Meredith barely withheld an eye roll. Thatcher had not intended to include her in this conversation at all. He had been forced to have her here, by Owen and Nelson.
"Okay, well… I'll talk about this with Molly and Meredith," Thatcher agreed. "But this Sloan fellow… he isn't Lexie's family. I don't understand why he gets to be here."
"I love Lexie," Mark stated, so proudly and firmly that Meredith could not help but admire him. "I… I don't know if she loves me back and if she doesn't, that's fine. I'm not going to try and intrude on your family. But I am a doctor and I do care about Lexie and Meredith so if you don't mind, I would really like to stay and listen."
Perhaps there was nothing that Thatcher could say to that because he simply shrugged and went quiet. It was Molly who took over for her father, her voice once again weak and emotional. "Okay, um… so… Dr. Nelson and Dr. Hunt, if you had to give us a percentage… how likely do you think it is that Lexie will wake-up?"
"It really is hard to say. Every case, every patient is different," Owen said. "Lexie is young and healthy, so I would say that gives her an advantage but… the minimal brain activity is concerning."
Nelson nodded in agreement. "Yes, I deal with cases like Alexandra's on a daily basis. I'm a neurosurgeon; I deal with strokes, with brain-death in patients of every age. Personally, I think that even if Alexandra does wake-up, it would be unwise to expect any kind of cognitive function from her."
"So basically she'll be a vegetable," Meredith summarized.
"We don't know that for sure but… yes, that is what I anticipate, if Alexandra awakens at all," Nelson said.
At this, Thatcher collapsed into a nearby chair, sobbing uncontrollably. This behavior was not new, when it came to her father, so Meredith ignored him.
Molly was clutching Thatcher's hand but her attention was concentrated on her eldest sister. "Meredith, your husband is a neurosurgeon, right? You've worked with him on some cases. Have you ever had a patient that you thought was braindead wake-up and… and not be a vegetable?"
It would be easy to say no; Meredith wanted to say no because she knew that the odds of this happening to Lexie were slim to none but she was tired of lying. "I… well, there was this one patient during my intern year…"
"What happened?" Molly pressed, her eyes sparked with excitement.
"I… I don't know. From what I remember, he had some kind of accident and was braindead. His family had him transferred to a long term facility and seventeen years later, he fell out of bed so they brought him here. I noticed some movement in his eyes, Derek injected him with a stimulant, and… and he woke-up. But that's really rare and I think that patient still ended up dying from a brain bleed."
"But that was just because he fell out of bed," Molly assumed. "We wouldn't let that happen to Lexie. She could wake-up, Dad! She would wake-up years from now and I mean… that would still be bad but it would be better than nothing."
Hope had weaved a path into Thatcher's eyes. "Y-Yeah, it would… I… I think we should keep her just the way she is. What do you guys think?"
"Dad, um… what happened to that patient… it's a one in a million type of thing. Maybe even one in a hundred million. I'm not saying that we should just give up on her but trust me, dying in slow motion… that's much harder than dying quickly."
"How would you know? You've never died."
Technically, I have; my heart stopped during my intern year when I drowned, Meredith thought but she did not say that. She sighed. "No, but I see stuff like this on a weekly basis. Families that opt to keep their loved ones on life support… it almost never ends well and it's much more emotionally-taxing for everyone."
"Do you know what would be emotionally-taxing? Losing my daughter," Thatcher said.
"Yeah, and it sounds like Lexie still has a chance. Why would we give up on her when she still has a chance?" Molly added.
Mark stepped forward. "Look, I don't think Meredith is suggesting anything. She just wants to make sure you have all your information down before making a decision and so do I."
"What would you suggest, Dr. Sloan?" Molly asked.
"I… I mean, personally, if it was me, I would want thirty days and I told Meredith the same thing the other day. If any patient is going to wake-up in this situation, it's typically going to happen within the first thirty days. After that, people tend to go septic. Their organs start to fail. Give Lexie some time and give yourselves some time to come to terms with everything and if nothing has improved, then…"
Mark trailed off but everyone appeared to have gotten the message. Molly wiped at her eyes and Thatcher was going a bit green. "And that's… that's thirty days since when, the plane crash? Because we've already surpassed that."
"I would say thirty days from when Lexie had her stroke so we would be on day nine," Mark said.
"No," Thatcher said; he shook his head, violently. "No, I'm not doing this. I'm not limiting Lexie to just twenty more days! She could wake-up a month from now… a year from now!"
"Dad, it's highly unlikely that Lexie is going to wake-up at all and if she does, you heard Dr. Nelson; she's probably going to be a vegetable," Meredith said.
"So what do you think we should do? What's your professional opinion, Dr. Grey?" Thatcher sneered.
Part of Meredith wanted to flee or to insult her father. She managed to swallow her pride, though, and respond calmly. "I… well, if it was me, I wouldn't want any extraordinary measures. I would not want to risk being a vegetable and I would not want to put Derek through that. In this situation, I… I think you have to think about the quality of life, rather than the quantity."
"You would just want to be unplugged, here and now?" Mark clarified.
"I… I would, if it was me," Meredith said.
"Well, it's not you. It's Lexie and I can guarantee you that Lexie wants to live," Molly claimed. "She does not want us to give up hope because she always talks about the odds and how the odds are crap. I mean, our mom died of the hiccups. Lexie wants us to keep trying. She wants us to fight for her and… and isn't any quality of life better than… no life at all?"
"It definitely is," Thatcher said. "You said it yourself, Meredith. You said people come out of comas after thirty days. That one guy woke-up after seventeen years. How can you stand there and even suggest that we unplug Lexie when you know she could still wake-up? How would you feel if Lexie was going to wake-up a month from now but she didn't get that chance because you killed her?!"
Mark stood up, like he was going to defend Meredith but before he got that opportunity, Meredith was yelling. "Hey! Even if we did unplug Lexie, that would not be killing her. That would simply be letting nature take its course. If Lexie really is as healthy as you think, unplugging the ventilator wouldn't do anything! She would just keep breathing on her own and maybe eventually wake-up!"
There was another hiatus. Molly and Thatcher glanced at one another and Meredith could feel Mark looking at her yet she did not respond to him. Every once of Meredith was working to keep the bile in her stomach where it belonged.
Finally, Molly took charge. "Okay, I… I think the only reasonable thing to do is to keep Lexie on the ventilator for now. Anything else, we might regret down the road but if Lexie's on the ventilator, I mean… we can still make changes later."
"Make changes? No, we're not going to make any damn changes," Thatcher demanded. "We are going to keep my daughter alive for as long as it takes! I lost Susan; I'm not losing her, too!"
This was too much. It was too much a long time ago, but Thatcher had crossed the line and Meredith could take it no longer. "Look, you need to take some time and think about this. Trust me, I know you want to do everything possible to save Lexie and I do, too, but you have an entire room of doctors advising you on what to do and you are choosing to ignore everything we say!"
"Stop it, Meredith; Dad's not doing that at all. You literally just told him that you've seen people wake-up from vegetative states…"
"And I never should have said that!" Meredith screamed at Molly.
"Why not?! It's true, isn't it? If it's true, then why wouldn't we try to save her?!" Molly was shaking her head, torn between a state of shock and doubt. "Meredith, I've tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I've tried to give you a chance because Lexie always talked about how much she loves you but since I've been here, you have not done one thing that suggests you even care about Lexie."
"THAT'S BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T!" Thatcher bellowed, spit flying from his mouth in rage. "ADMIT IT, MEREDITH; YOU DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT LEXIE BECAUSE JUST LIKE ALWAYS, YOU BLAME HER FOR BEING THE PERFECT DAUGHTER I DIDN'T ABANDON! WELL, WHY DO YOU THINK THAT IS?! IT'S BECAUSE LEXIE'S SMARTER, KINDER, AND A BETTER PERSON THAN YOU'LL EVER BE!"
Owen darted forward to separate the Grey family. "Okay, look… you need to calm down, Mr. Grey. I'm sorry but this is the ICU and there are very sick people here…"
"I KNOW THERE'S SICK PEOPLE HERE! LOOK AT LEXIE; LOOK AT MY DAUGHTER! SHE'S SICK! SHE NEEDS HELP AND ALL YOU PEOPLE WILL TALK ABOUT IS KILLING HER! ADMIT IT, MEREDITH, YOU WANT TO KILL HER!"
"Mr. Grey, if you don't get yourself under control, I will have to call security…"
"Yeah, come on, Mer," Mark said; he swung a protective, brotherly arm around Meredith's shoulders and guided her away from the scene.
"GET HER THE HELL OUTTA HERE!" Thatcher continued screaming. "SHE WANTS TO KILL MY LEXIE AND I'M NOT GONNA ALLOW IT!"
They were almost free; they were nearly out of range when suddenly, Meredith charged back into the room, against her better judgement.
"Meredith, no!" Mark warned but she was not listening.
"I GAVE YOU MY LIVER! Do you think I did that for you?! Do you think I did that because I cared about you?! No, if you dropped dead right now, my world probably wouldn't be any different!"
"My God, Meredith, what's wrong with you?!" Molly gasped.
"I did that for Lexie! I put myself through major abdominal surgery because I loved Lexie and I didn't want to see her go all dark and twisty. I loved Lexie and I will continue loving her long after she's gone and you know it!"
"Well, maybe she's not going to die, Meredith! Why do you keep insisting she's going to die?!" Molly pressed.
"Because she is going to die! Everyone else has accepted it except for you two! She is going to die and the only difference is that you guys are forcing her to die in slow motion. You are dragging out the process for everyone and I'm not okay with that!" Meredith explained.
"AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE OKAY WITH IT!" Thatcher shouted; his face was bright red and if it was not for Owen, Nelson, and Mark, he likely would have charged at his eldest daughter a long time ago. "I'M THE PROXY! I GET TO MAKE THE DECISIONS HERE! YOU GET TO SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER BEFORE I SNATCH THE REST OF YOUR LIVER STRAIGHT OUT OF YOUR BODY!"
"Oh, so now you're threatening me?"
"YOU THREATENED LEXIE FIRST! YOU THREATENED TO KILL HER, TO UNPLUG HER!"
"That's it," Owen said. He grabbed his overhead pager from his scrub pocket and spoke into it: "Security to the ICU, STAT! Security to the ICU, STAT!"
"We're leaving," Mark said. He secured a better grip on Meredith and forcibly hauled her out of Lexie's room and down the hallway.
He did not let go until they were in a nearby conference room and even then, Meredith was agitated so Mark blocked the door with his body. "Meredith, stop! Let it go. You're only going to make things worse."
"He's never going to unplug her! He's going to keep her on that damn vent until the end of time!"
"Maybe he is and maybe he isn't but right now, we've got to stop thinking about it," Mark said. "You're only going to hurt yourself if you keep this up. You're going to hurt both of us."
Growling with rage, Meredith spun around and kicked over the first chair that she encountered. Her ribs instantly throbbed with pain.
"Damn," Mark sighed. "For someone so tiny, you really are powerful."
"I LOVE LEXIE! YOU KNOW I LOVE HER, RIGHT?!"
"Of course I know that, Mer. If you didn't love her so much, you wouldn't be fighting for her like this."
That's right; someone gets it, Meredith figured but it was all a lost cause now. So much for all of the progress she had made in therapy with Dr. Wyatt this morning… everything had gone to hell in a handbag.
"Okay," Mark said once it appeared that Meredith had calmed down. "Okay, are you stable? You're not going to run off and kill your dad, right?"
"Not unless it's self-defense…"
"Right, and that's legal so I don't have a problem with that. It's not like Lexie is going to wake-up and be mad at you. Do you want me to call Derek? It seems like, uh… you could use him, at a time like this."
"No, Derek can't drive by himself. Alex is up here somewhere; he's cleaning out his locker. I'll talk to him and maybe go back to Dr. Wyatt for a while."
"Okay," Mark repeated. "Are you sure I can't do anything?"
"Yeah, no… I'm sure. I'm okay," Meredith said. "Go ahead and find Callie or whoever it was that brought you up here. I'm sure you could… use a friend, too."
Apparently that was true because Mark did not argue; he left the conference room as soon as possible, dialing someone's number on his phone as he went. Meredith got up and followed him, but she did not go to the psychiatric floor or to find Alex. There was only one thing, at this point, that Meredith felt capable of doing.
She paced out into the parking lot, got into her Lexus, and sped away from Seattle Grace. She drove past the Emerald City Bar, past the house that contained Derek and Zola, and to the complete other side of Seattle where she parked outside a random bar.
Meredith had no idea what time it was but after the day she had had, that was insignificant information. Meredith could be dubbed as an alcoholic for all she cared… she needed liquor and she needed it now.
The joint she had chosen was relatively big; it was much larger than Joe's place and Meredith knew that she would not be discovered by any of the Seattle Grace staff here. She hauled herself up onto a bar stool and got the attention of the bartender. "Hey… I need a shot of 1800 Tequila, please… actually, I need about ten shots."
"Rough day?" the bartender guessed as he poured Meredith's first drink.
"You have no idea."
Thank you so much for reading! I know I have been saying this forever but I PROMISE things will get happier soon. Don't forget to favorite/follow and review if you hate Thatcher Grey as much as I do because that gives me motivation to continue writing. And stay tuned because the next chapter is going to have LOTS of MerDer comfort! Love you all so much. Xoxo, merderpedia :)