Okay, first of all, thanks for all the good luck exam wishes. I was very lucky today. I went in to biology, all prepared to struggle through a horrible lab exam (microscopes and I are not the best of friends), only my teacher had decided to cancel the lab portion of the exam in favor of squeezing in one more lecture before Wednesday's written portion of the final. I mean seriously, who does that? Who actually cancels an exam? So yes, I was ecstatic. I think it was thanks to all the good luck from you guys. Hee. Oh, and good luck to all of you with exams coming up too. They are evil, evil things. May all of yours be as easily canceled as my Monday morning lab exam.
Hee. I'm still excited about that. Anyway yes, to celebrate the lack of exam, I didn't study tonight and am updating this instead. I know…it doesn't make an ounce of sense, but whatever. Oh yes, as several people have asked, let me clarify. Is Derek the father? Quite simply, yes. Absolutely. 100 beyond all shadow of a doubt, it's his. This story starts before Mer becomes the wild tequila-slugging-sexfiend at Joe's simply because, personally, I'm not a fan of who's the daddy stories. I actually have a fairly passionate hatred for them. So, there's none of that here. Derek got her pregnant when they were dating. End of story.
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Meredith lay curled up in bed, hiding up to her chin beneath the thick heavy warmth of her comforter. Normally, she hated her bed as it was the perfect reminder of just where Derek wasn't. But this morning, she was willing to let that slide. Her bed, after all, was incredibly warm and comfortable. It had a mountain of pillows, and rather nice sheets with some sort of ridiculously high thread count. She figured that the fact that she had no desire to get up was very understandable. However, Meredith waking up at twenty to five and deciding that she was absolutely not getting out of bed today, under any circumstances, had had absolutely nothing to do with the comfort level of her bed. It'd had everything to do with the fact that her bed was safe. Her bed, the four walls of her bedroom…it was safe in there. Isolated. Shut off from the world like a sneaky little cocoon. If she didn't get out of bed, she didn't have to deal with anything. Besides, sleep was wonderfully forgetful. It was almost as good as tequila.
At least, it would be if she could actually get some sleep. That, thanks to her roommates, was proving to be impossible. Meredith shifted slightly, shooting a glare at the locked door of her bedroom, her attention once again drifting back to the conversation in the hallway.
"Do you think she died in there or something?" That was George's voice…perhaps a little too neurotic and worrisome, but Meredith hoped that he was joking.
"Don't be stupid George," said Izzie. "She's not dead. She's probably just crying over McDreamy."
"Not nice," muttered George in a low voice that left Meredith rolling her eyes. "Don't say that Iz," he continued. "She's not crying over him."
"Yeah. Right. You're just jealous because you…"
"Izzie…" he interrupted, sounding slightly frantic.
Their voices dropped down to low whispers, and Meredith couldn't quite make out what they were saying anymore over the sudden sound of her alarm clock's incessant beeping. It had been going off intermittently for the past half hour, a consequence of continually reaching for the snooze button instead of just switching the alarm off. Meredith supposed it was the good intern part of her conscious, doing its best to give her a chance to still make it to work. Stupid idea, she thought bitterly, and with an angry groan, she reached out and slammed her fist down hard against the off switch. The beeping stopped, and she was blessed with a brief moment of silence before George and Izzie resumed knocking on her bedroom door. Meredith rolled over, grabbing one of the spare pillows and pulling it over her head.
"Meredith? Mer? You're going to be late!"
Okay…so the pillow wasn't perfect at drowning out the roommates, but still…it was something. And they'd give up. Eventually. They had to. They had jobs and lives and things to do, things to do other than lie in bed and think about how they were suddenly, unexpectedly, and horribly pregnant. Meredith screwed her eyes shut, trying to pretend she couldn't hear them. There was no way that she was going to work today. Or ever really. She just wanted to disappear.
"Maybe," began Izzie thoughtfully, after another round of furious knocking had run its course. "Maybe she got really drunk last night, and now she's passed out in there and too hung over to hear us?"
"I don't think so…she was already asleep when I got home. Besides, she turned off the alarm."
No…no tequila, thought Meredith, scowling at a loose thread on the hem of her pillowcase. Not a single drop.
"I don't know then," continued Izzie as she knocked absently on the door. "Maybe she really is sick." Her voice rose a few decibels, and she intensified her knocking once more. "Meredith? Can you hear me? Are you okay?"
"Yeah Mer," joined in George. "Are you sick? Should we make you some tea? You know…I got some really good Earl Grey when I did the groceries yesterday. I remembered you'd said you like it. I could go bring it up to you…and…um…"
"George…" Izzie said his name slowly, pulling the word out into a long sound that was full of amusement. That seemed to silence him because Izzie continued speaking, free of further interruptions about tea. She began by sounding rather exasperated, kicking a foot against the door. "Seriously Meredith, just get off your ass for five seconds so that George can see you're still breathing and get over himself already, and I can get to work. Otherwise, I'm letting him break down the door with all his burly, burly strength…" Her voice descended into giggles, and the sound of her laughter seeped into Meredith's room, punctuated by George protesting that he actually had plenty of manly strength and could take the door if he wanted to, thank you very much.
Meredith turned her head slightly, squinting at her alarm clock. It was only five fifteen, and she was already about to break her absolutely no getting out of bed rule. She sighed bitterly, throwing the covers off and rolling out of bed. She nearly tripped on the long legs of her pajama bottoms as she made her way across the room. Without bothering to adjust her tangled clothes or run a hand through the mess of her hair, she unlocked the door and yanked it open. Meredith glared up at her roommates, and George and Izzie just blinked back at her in astonishment.
"Seriously people!" she snapped, her irritation evident in the bright flash and subsequent narrowing of her eyes. "What is wrong with you? I'm awake. I'm alive. Now please, just go away." She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for her roommates to leave, only they didn't. They just stood there, their faces breaking out in matching smiles.
"You're awake!" agreed George delightedly.
"About time. What were you doing in there anyway Mer?" Izzie peered through the doorway, frowning when she came across nothing more interesting than the usual rumpled bed.
Meredith's voice was short and uncharacteristically cold. "Sleeping."
"Don't be silly," said Izzie dismissively. "We're interns. It's genetically impossible for us to sleep through any sort of beeping sound even remotely resembling a pager. And your alarm clock? Seriously pager-like."
"Fine," amended Meredith. "I was trying to sleep. And now, I'm going back to sleep."
"What?" spluttered George, sounding altogether shocked. "What about work?"
"Not going," said Meredith simply. George just blinked at her, as if unable to fathom her reply.
"Meredith, you seem to be forgetting that we're slaves to the hospital," said Izzie cheerfully. "That place owns us. Now come on, you barely have enough time to squeeze in a shower." Meredith narrowed her eyes at Izzie before shaking her head. She felt vaguely ill, and the last thing she felt like doing right now was arguing with her roommates.
"There will be no showering," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "I'm not going to work. I'm going back to bed. End of story."
"Are you sick?" asked George.
Meredith paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. A wry smile flashed briefly across her face. "Not exactly."
Izzie sighed, bending down to pick up a coffee cup she had set on the floor. She took a long drink, narrowing her eyes at Meredith. "Look, I know you're sad because of Derek, and you want to be all sad face about everything. But you're better than that. Just try to forget about him, and get on with your life." Meredith stared at her blankly, feeling as if she was just about halfway to slamming the door. Derek was the last person she wanted to hear about right now. In fact, she was pretty sure that she hated him. Well, aside from the dizzy with longing, pathetically heartsick way in which she was still completely in love with him… Aside from all that, she definitely hated him. Izzie gave Meredith an encouraging smile, adding, "Besides, maybe McWife will look really bad today. You know…shoes that don't match her outfit, or…"
"Right," interrupted Meredith, rolling her eyes and walking back towards her room.
"Seriously Mer. Don't worry about Derek."
Meredith pivoted back around, her green eyes flashing as they had when she first threw open the door. "Please, stop talking about Derek! He's not the point here." She hesitated for a moment, frowning slightly. "Okay…he's sort of the point. But no. The point is much bigger than that. The point is…" She sighed once more, her voice heavy with frustration. "Not important right now. I'm just not going to work today, okay?" Without giving them a chance to comment, Meredith stepped back over the threshold into her room, and slammed the door. Turning around, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
"Okay…" said George slowly, looking up at Izzie. "Did Meredith just freak out at us?"
"I think so," whispered Izzie.
"Well…what do we do? Mer…Meredith?" He leaned forward, pressing his mouth close to the door as he spoke. "Maybe we should remind her about surgery," continued George, his voice soft and desperately searching for a way to be helpful.
"No George. We tried. Just leave it, you're not her mother."
Meredith closed her eyes, letting her head fall against her knees. She was once again feeling way too dizzy. Biting down on her trembling lip, she shook her head, one hand reaching down to cradle her stomach. It was back to doing that horrible churning thing again, starting off as simply uncomfortable and quickly escalating into actively trying not to gag. She could hear the voices of Izzie and George still carrying on in the hallway, but she felt too queasy to actually bother deciphering what they were saying. "Fuck…" she muttered under her breath, using the doorknob to pull herself to her feet. She swayed for a moment, trying to regain her balance without simultaneously fainting and throwing up all over the wall. When she could walk straight, she opened her door once more, stalking straight past George and Izzie.
"You changed your mind!" declared George, as soon as she stepped out of her room. "Izzie, she changed her mind."
"Good for you Mer," said Izzie, following after Meredith towards the bathroom. "Screw McDreamy."
"Exactly," agreed George, his voice trailing off into something that sounded like mumbled disregard for Derek's hair. Meredith walked into the bathroom and kicked the door, once again slamming it shut on the surprised faces of her roommates. She hurried forward, dropping to her knees so quickly that she winced, vaguely aware that she'd just earned herself matching purple bruises. Still, after a second, the pain barely registered. She felt as if her body was trying to turn itself inside out, and she leaned forward, her forehead coming to rest against the cold surface of the toilet bowl.
"Okay you know…she really is being weird today," said Izzie, backing away from the suddenly closed door and turning to frown at George.
"I know…" began George, but he halted almost immediately, a bemused expression crossing his face. "Is Meredith throwing up?" Izzie cocked her head towards the door, nodding slightly.
"Yeah…I think she is."
"Seriously? She's throwing up? Why's Meredith throwing up?"
Izzie just stared at him for a moment, her brown eyes gradually darkening as her expression flickered with sudden understanding and turned serious. "That's not really the point George," she muttered before spinning back around, and opening the door that Meredith had slammed shut. She walked quickly towards the small figure huddled over the toilet. "Mer," she said gently as she sank down onto the floor beside her. She ran her hand up her friend's back, deftly gathering the long loose strands of Meredith's dirty blonde hair, and holding them back from her friend's face.
George hovered in the doorway uncertainly, eyeing the hunched over figures of the two women. "Should I…should I help? Izzie?"
Izzie looked up at him, taking in his anxious expression. She shifted on the balls of her feet, moving to accommodate Meredith, before nodding her head. "Umm yeah, hand me one of those washcloths." George sprang forward, seeming grateful to have something to do, and passed Izzie a small, white washcloth. She just frowned at him. "Wet it first, George."
Meredith wasn't quite sure of when Izzie had come into the bathroom, but as her body finally stopped shuddering and she pushed herself upward to lean weakly against the toilet, she felt Izzie move to steady her. With a long shaky sigh, Meredith reached out and took the washcloth that was offered her. "Thanks," she mumbled, closing her eyes. She felt as if her whole body was in danger of trembling so much that it would just fall apart, and she wanted nothing more than to stay resting against Izzie's shoulder.
"Meredith?" That was George again, his voice as uncertain and anxious as usual. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. She pressed the cool surface of the cloth to her skin before slowly nodding her head. "Are you okay? What happened? Do you have food poisoning?"
"I…I'm…" began Meredith, her voice thin and almost fragile sounding. "It's…" She couldn't quite bring herself to speak and so she trailed off, her eyes wide and desperate as she glanced over at Izzie. There was understanding there, leaving Meredith to sigh inwardly with something approaching relief, as Izzie nodded her head. George watched as the two women stared at each other for a moment. They seemed to be saying many things with their eyes that he couldn't understand. When they finally looked back at him, it was Izzie who spoke, not Meredith.
"She's fine George. Why don't you go make her some tea or some dry toast or something, and then just go on to work. Oh, and tell Bailey we're sorry but Meredith and I are going to be late today." George nodded his head. Izzie's tone was surprisingly un-Izzie-like, and left no real room to argue. Meredith stared blankly at him, not really listening as he stumbled over something amounting to the fact that he hoped she felt better soon. She gave another vague nod as he disappeared, letting Izzie help her lean back against the tub. "God Meredith," continued Izzie quietly once the sound of George's footsteps had completely faded away. "You're pregnant, aren't you?"
Meredith didn't answer at first, simply letting the question hang in the air. It wasn't that she thought that there was any point in denying it to Izzie. It just seemed too hard to answer, because answering was one step further into reality. But Izzie was watching her steadily, her eyes trained on her friend's pallid face, waiting for a final confirmation of what she more than suspected. Meredith found her answer spilling from her lips unbidden, just one more thing slipping out of her control. "Yes," she whispered, and the word rang too loud in the cold silence of the bathroom. It sounded too real.
"Oh Mer…"
Izzie's voice was warm and gentle, mingled pity and understanding. Meredith shrugged her shoulders and stared down at her feet, trying to ignore the fact that tears had already started spilling down her cheeks. She hadn't cried yesterday. Not really…no more than a tear or two. Even as she had lain awake in the middle of the night, feeling as if the utter dark of her room was swallowing her whole…she hadn't cried. But now, her shoulders began to shake and she heard herself gasping. It was one of those horrible sort of gasps, filled with a sob that breaks in the middle. Meredith reached up, wiping at the sudden onslaught of tears with a frustrated hand, hating that she was crying. But Izzie just pulled her closer, arms reaching out to fit her into a hug. She was murmuring something kind and soothing that Meredith couldn't quite make out through her own great, shuddering breaths. However, it was the sound itself that was more important than the words, and slowly Meredith felt herself evening out again. Her crying stopped being something utterly uncontrollable, morphing instead into a series of quiet shivers and a few remaining silent tears.
They sat there quietly for a long time, knees drawn to their chests and their heads tilted towards each other. Finally Meredith shifted slightly, sniffling as she did, and Izzie moved to pass her a tissue. "Thanks," mumbled Meredith, quickly drying her eyes and blowing her nose. "And…sorry for…" She waived the tissue sort of aimlessly in front of them. "You know…the whole hysterical roommate making you late thing."
Izzie just smiled slightly. "Don't be stupid Mer. I don't mind." Meredith nodded, her chin bumping against her knees, and she flinched a little as she came in contact with one of her newly inflicted bruises. She cursed softly, shifting positions so that the weight of her head rested against the tub and not her knees, and fell back into a moody silence. "When did you find out?" Izzie's question pierced the quiet denial Meredith had once again been working herself towards, pulling her firmly back towards cold hard facts.
She mumbled her reply. "Yesterday."
"Wow…" Izzie fidgeted with her bracelet, doing her best to hold back her questions. Meredith seemed to want nothing more than to sit in silence, and was keeping her head tilted back and her eyes resolutely closed. Still, Izzie was a curious person, and she'd held Meredith's hair back, and gotten rid of George. (Not to mention the fact that she was voluntarily risking death by Bailey by arriving to work late.) She figured she had earned the right to a few more questions, so she twisted around again to look at Meredith, her eyes wide and inquisitive. "Is it Derek's?"
That got Meredith's head to jerk right back up, her eyes flying open to stare, dark and burning, at her friend. "Yes." Her voice sounded tired, and only slightly tinged with something darker. "Obviously Izzie."
"Right…guess that means you should disregard my whole don't worry about Derek speech."
Meredith let out a short snort of laughter. "Seriously."
As the harsh note of amusement faded, they fell back into silence. Meredith ran her tongue along the edge of her lip. It was sore and slightly worn from chewing it too much. She felt the dull beginnings of a headache thanks to all the crying she'd just done, and so she lifted a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Izzie just sat there, twirling a long strand of her pale blonde hair as she watched Meredith. Neither one of them had any regard for the time, or just how late they were. Time felt like something that had stopped outside the doorway, shed just as easily as all the other things that normally seemed important, but were suddenly not worth mentioning. Meredith had been feeling numb, but that was beginning to slowly seep away. In its place was something colder, something she hadn't let herself feel fully yet. The numbness was giving way to fear. Meredith didn't want to go back to crying, and so, not knowing how else to deal, she found herself speaking again. Her voice was low and breakable, yet it easily shattered the silence of the room. "I don't know what I'm going to do Izzie…" She turned towards her friend, her eyes bloodshot and shining with tears.
Izzie just sighed and reached out, pulling Meredith back towards her once more. "You don't have to know yet. You've got time to think." Meredith nodded slightly, her head settling easily against Izzie's shoulder. "Everything will turn out okay Mer."
Meredith rolled her eyes. "Nice try," she mumbled. "I'm a doctor too, remember. That's one of our generic comforting phrases. So nice…and…vague." She spoke slowly, stretching out each word so that it was long and rolling.
"Yeah…I know." Izzie smiled sadly, reaching down and smoothing Meredith's hair like she would a child's.
Meredith took a shaky breath, the corners of her mouth turning tentatively upward. "But thanks anyway."
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Meredith wasn't quite sure how she had made it to work. She did know that it was entirely thanks to Izzie though. Everything that happened from the moment when they finally got up off of the bathroom floor, through to the two of them hurrying through the doors of the hospital was just a strange giant blur. The ends of her hair were still damp from a shower that she barely remembered taking. She had let Izzie drive to work, and she had just sat there, simply staring out the window, eating something Izzie had grabbed for her. Strangely it seemed to have no taste, but Meredith figured that was more due to herself than the food. Bailey had yelled when she caught sight of them trying to sneak in and join the other interns, but that had barely registered either. Honestly, the whole day felt odd, as if she had shifted away from herself and was doing everything just left of center, separated from the rest of the world by something hazy and confusing.
She shifted the heavy stack of binders she was holding, resting it on her hip as she waited for the elevator to come. Once Bailey had finished yelling, she had promptly assigned the both of them to scut. Apparently they were supposed to consider themselves lucky if they got to perform so much as a single suture down in the pit. But Meredith didn't exactly care. Sure, the stack of charts and patient histories she was carting around was thicker than several of her old med school textbooks. It was mindless work that she'd normally hate, but it was honestly just about all she felt capable of handling at the moment. She had pulled herself together sometime between getting up off the bathroom floor and driving in to work, but it felt as if she was walking on a very thin thread, and that too much of anything would simply cause it to snap. The elevator doors finally slid open, and Meredith sighed with relief as she walked on. She leaned back against the wall, once again readjusting the grip on her mountain of charts. The elevator was mercifully empty and so she closed her eyes, listening to the low hum of the machinery moving upward.
The ride stopped sooner than she had expected, and she opened her eyes to watch the doors slide open on the second floor. Her breath caught before her mind fully registered what was happening. Derek was standing there, his lips pursed tightly together in concentration as he adjusted something on his phone. He glanced up and caught sight of her, immediately slipping the phone into his pocket as his face split into a warm smile.
"Meredith." He sounded too cheerful, striding onto the elevator and turning around so that they were facing each other. She didn't know why he seemed so happy, so unexplainably happy. She supposed it could just be that the contrast between how normal people felt, and how dull and lifeless people like herself felt was greater than she'd expected. Still, it was unnerving. She couldn't seem to manage to return his smile. She just stared blankly up at him, following his arm as it reached out to support his weight against the slick metal wall of the elevator. Derek was standing closer than usual, near enough for Meredith to feel the warmth from his body, as if he had somehow forgotten their unwritten rules. Their sudden closeness was leaving her overwhelmed, so that all she could do was stare.
Meredith could make out the tiny dimple by his chin like a shadow on his face, and could see the dark blue of his eyes brightening as he smiled. Some small trapped part of her mind was telling her to answer, but she was too busy trying to remember to breathe. Somehow it wasn't instinctual anymore. And so Meredith just stood there, watching helplessly as Derek's expression slowly shifted from happiness towards confusion. "What?" he continued, tilting his head down towards her. "You're back to not speaking to me again?" His voice was both pouting and playful, yet filled with a low undercurrent of something that sounded curiously wounded.
Meredith breathed in, her breath drawing sharply past her lips. She hadn't planned on being silent around Derek, but she hadn't contemplated actually speaking to him either, and her indecision was manifesting itself as sudden unconquerable silence. She felt acutely aware of her stomach, and the fact that, if you wanted to get technical, there weren't two people in the elevator. There were three. (Okay, well…two people and an embryo. But it was their embryo.) It was something shared, and the confession was right there, lingering behind her lips. But she wasn't saying anything. She didn't know how to say any of it. Derek was searching her face, his eyes feeding straight into hers. His eyes had a heavy, heady intensity to them that made Meredith feel as if he could somehow search out the secret hidden inside of her, without her having to say a single word. It was unnerving, and she shivered, her shoulders curving inward slightly as she cast her gaze to the ground. "Mer…" he continued, speaking softly, questioningly. In a way, it was almost worse than the staring; the too familiar shortening of her name into a single curling sound. It left her feeling raw, swollen with a bitter longing to tuck her head against his shoulder as she had to Izzie. But she didn't. She couldn't move. She still couldn't speak. She could barely breathe alone with him.
Derek sighed in frustration, his hand reaching up to run through his hair as he turned his body slightly away from her. That motion seemed to free her lips a little, because she opened her mouth, managing a thin gasp of the beginning of a sentence. But the sound was frail, and completely lost beneath the noise of the elevator doors once again sliding open.
They looked up at the same time, both turning from each other towards the opening doors. For the first time that day, Meredith breathed a real sigh of relief. Of all the people in the hospital who could have been waiting there for the elevator, it happened to be the right person. It happened to be her person.
Cristina had her hands on her hips. Unlike Meredith, her arms were completely free of charts and binders. She was looking back and forth between the two of them, a skeptical frown firmly in place. "Hey Mer," she said at last as she walked onto the elevator, moving wordlessly past Derek and positioning herself between him and her friend.
"Hi," said Meredith, somehow managing to free her voice for a moment. Derek turned back around as she spoke, moving instantly as if it pulled him. He raised an eyebrow, something between a smirk and a frown crossing his face.
"Oh…so you can talk." Meredith shifted uncomfortably, sucking in a long shaky breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but once again found herself wordless. "But just not to me…" he continued as Meredith stayed silent. She could feel the both of them staring at her; Cristina with curiosity, and Derek with something that was slightly amused and slightly hurt.
"You're not talking to him?" asked Cristina, sounding positively delighted. She turned to Meredith with a grin on her face, but Meredith's eyes were blank. She was looking vaguely down at the floor, her lips parted slightly, but her face expressionless.
"Apparently not," continued Derek when it became clear that Meredith wasn't saying anything. "Any idea, Dr. Yang, why she's not speaking to me?" The doors of the elevator slid open with a clear ding as he spoke, and Cristina shot her boss a disapproving frown.
"I'm sure she has her reasons," she said shortly before taking Meredith by the arm, and pulling her out of the elevator.
Meredith let Cristina lead her down the hallway. She felt as if she were in shock. Actually, the past twenty-four hours felt as if they were nothing more than a giant series of successive shocks. It was rendering her lifeless and useless, so she didn't protest or question at all when Cristina pushed her into the locker room. She just sat down on the empty bench, sighing with quiet relief at finally being able to set down the giant stack of charts she'd been holding.
Cristina leaned back against the lockers, folding her arms over her chest as she frowned down at her friend. "Okay…what is wrong with you?"
"Huh?"
"First, you and Izzie come in an hour after rounds. Plus she's like a freaking mother hen, practically holding your hand and putting on your pager for you. And then with McDreamy and the elevator. I mean, seriously. What did he do? Did you catch him with Satan or something?" Meredith just shrugged, not really listening. Her mind still stuck on the memory of Derek's eyes boring into her. Cristina heaved an exasperated sigh. "Meredith! What is up with the whole I'm-so-frozen-I-can't-even-breathe expression?"
"I'm fine," mumbled Meredith numbly.
"Right. And I'm Santa Claus," replied Cristina, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "You're catatonic Mer." The tone of her voice bit through the fog surrounding Meredith, pulling her out of her memories. She sighed and shook her head abruptly, seeming for the first time since she'd walked into work to actually be focusing on the person in front of her.
"I'm pregnant," she said quietly. Somehow it was easier saying it the second time around. Maybe it was the repetition. Maybe it was because it was Cristina. Meredith didn't really know. She was just grateful that her eyes weren't once again welling up with tears. However, the change it wrought in Cristina's expression was instantaneous, shooting her eyebrows straight up and causing her mouth to hang open.
"Oh…" she said, dropping down to sit beside Meredith on the bench. "Never mind then." Meredith nodded her head, but didn't say anything. After a moment, Cristina twisted around to look at her again. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," muttered Meredith. "Freaking condom add…" She shook her head sharply, looking almost angry. Cristina was watching her carefully.
"Do you need me to do the whole supportive thing right now…with the comforting and the letting you cry?"
"No," said Meredith slowly, pulling her legs up under her. "I'm good." She hesitated, toying with a loose button on her lab coat. "Well…except for the whole knocked up by my boss who's already left me for his perfect wife bit. That part? Not so good…" Her voice was sharp and heavy, a clear contrast from the fragile whispers she'd been using since she woke up. She ran a hand through her hair before yanking it violently into a ponytail. "I mean seriously Cristina. This must be what hell is like." Meredith fell silent, slumping against the lockers and propping her chin up with her fist. Her anger seemed to drain from her as quickly as it had appeared, once again turning her eyes quiet and a little bit lifeless.
Cristina bit down on her lip, staring at the bent form of her friend. When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly gentle. "Mer, are you keeping it?" Meredith shrugged a shoulder, turning to look at Cristina.
"I haven't decided yet…" She thought her voice sounded too hollow, hanging uncomfortably in the large empty locker room. "When did you know? I mean, know that you weren't keeping it?"
Cristina shook her head, laughing almost harshly. "The second I saw the damn test."
Meredith's expression changed instantly, growing as hollow as her voice. "Oh…" She let her head drop back down again, pressing her face into the palms of her hands. Cristina sighed and reached out, squeezing Meredith's arm, the gesture flowing surprisingly unstilted for her.
"Just couldn't let me be the only intern capable of claiming she got knocked up by an attending," she said at last, her voice filled with mock-hurt. It caused a slow smile to draw its way across Meredith's face.
"I've always been competitive," she said with a shrug. They leaned back against the lockers, exchanging grins filled with cold amusement and disbelief.
"Yeah well," said Cristina airily. "I'll find a way to top it."
Shaking her head, Meredith picked up a nearby towel, and threw it at Cristina. "Yeah…right. Good luck with that," she muttered, and then she finally laughed.
-----
So, this chapter was pretty much Meredith in shock, reacting, and trying to come to terms with the fact that she's pregnant thanks to a guy who has already left her. Still, she has her friends, and both Izzie and Cristina were trying hard to be there for her, in their very different ways. And George? Well, he had to get kicked out of the bathroom because while he's well meaning enough, he's a little too, well he's a little too George honestly. And for some things, you just need your girlfriends.
As for the Mer/Der scene? She froze. Meredith completely froze. She's been so overwhelmed herself that she hasn't sat down and figured out what sort of explanation she owes Derek, or if she feels she even owes him one at all. She hasn't gotten to that stage of figuring things out, she's been too busy being overwhelmed by everything. And then she's suddenly trapped alone with him in a tiny space, and Derek's all smiley and happy to see her. And it's just too much. So she freezes, pretty much forgets how to speak.
Okay, that's about all I have to say. But I do want to add a huge thanks to you guys who've been reviewing. It means a lot. Seriously. A lot. I put obscene amounts of time into writing my stories because I write at this crippled grandma pace. It's terribly pathetic. But yeah, it takes about seven to eight hours per chapter, so after all that…it's such a great feeling to read what you guys have to say. It really makes it feel worthwhile, so…thanks.
Alright, I've got back to back days of exams coming up, and I'm doubting I'll have the same canceled luck I had this morning. Sooo…this probably won't be updated until Thursday or Friday. But I'll definitely have something up before the weekend. Thanks for reading!