Chapter Ten: Wish You Were Here

How I wish, how I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears
Wish you were here

Pink Floyd

…

December was Elena's favorite month of the year. She loved the snow and she loved Christmas. Because, as Elena knew, Christmas meant family. In only a two weeks, she and her father would be going to the airport to pick up her aunts, uncles, and cousins. Her parents' friends would also be spending the holidays with them; after all, they were family, too. And the thought of a house filled with people she loved was the best gift Elena could have asked for.

This particular morning, Elena had been delighted to discover that it was snowing. She hadn't meant to wake up so early, but she was glad she did when she looked out the window and saw the tiny white sparkles drifting gently down against a gray winter sky. So for the past hour, she sat near her window, curled up in a warm fleece blanket with Amélie in her arms, just lost in thought.

"Okay, you're up way too early. Are you sick?" Addison teased as she stood in the doorway of Elena's room.

"It's snowing, Mommy!" she whispered with a cheerful grin.

"So I see. And apparently, your school noticed, too, because they've called today a snow day. So that means a day of nothing but pajamas, hot cocoa, and TV. I know it breaks your heart to hear it, but what else can we do?" Addison smiled, brushing her fingers through Elena's soft hair.

"Do you think I could go with to you the hospital today instead?"

"Are you sure, Elle? I have three surgeries scheduled, so I'm afraid I'm going to be pretty busy all day. Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay with Vanessa today?" Addison offered. Normally, Elena would have jumped at the chance to spend the day with the fifteen-year-old babysitter, but today, something was different.

The little girl looked up at Addison and smiled. "I want to be with you today. It's okay if you're busy; we can have lunch."

"Okay. That sounds great, Sweetheart," Addison agreed, then asked once more, "Are you sure everything is all right?"

For a minute, Elena just stared wordlessly at Addison. Finally, she shrugged and said nonchalantly, "I think so. I just have a strange feeling, like I need to be with you today. I'm probably just being silly, but it would make me feel better. It's probably nothing."

Hearing Elena say something like that gave Addison a chill and an unsettling feeling deep within her stomach. However, she forced a smile. Like Elena had said, it was probably nothing.

…

"Whoa, where are you going?" Derek asked laughingly as he crossed Meredith hurrying down the hall. When she hesitated to answer, he just shook his head. "Aida is fine, Mer. Molly knows what she's doing, and calling thirty times a day probably isn't the best thing to do. And Hayden is there with her, too; they're fine."

Meredith sighed. She had already called three times, and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet. But it was so hard to leave her tiny baby with anyone else—even her own sister. It seemed like she had only begun her maternity leave when it was time to go back to work. "Was I this way with Hayden?"

Derek chuckled and answered, "Probably worse." He hugged her and reassured, "It'll take some time to get used to, but it'll get easier. Okay?"

"Okay," she answered, although only halfheartedly.

"All right, fine. Go call if it makes you feel better," he finally gave in and watched her face light up. "But afterward, no more calls until this afternoon!" he called out after her as she hurried outside, her cell phone already to her ear.

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Elle, what are you doing here?" Derek questioned, scooping her up into his arms and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"It's a snow day," she explained, still clinging to him tightly.

"And I have a C-section for triplets in twenty minutes," Addison added as she finally caught up with them. "First time mom—really freaking out and Baby B's heart rate is making me nervous, so I should be in there with her."

Derek nodded. "You go ahead, then. Elle and I are going to go get some hot cocoa," he said cheerfully.

"Good luck with your surgery, Mommy. Can I see the babies after we have lunch?"

"Of course, Sweetheart. Be a good girl for your dad, okay? See you in a little while," Addison smiled as they went their separate ways. Apparently, Elena's strange feeling from earlier that morning was contagious; now, Addison was having her own difficulties parting from the child. However, after a moment, she brushed the feeling aside and disregarded it, certain that she was just overreacting.

After Derek and Elena had gotten their cocoa, they decided that it was too beautiful a day to waste indoors. It had stopped snowing, and now the sky was cloudless and blue; it was still cold out, but not too cold to keep them inside. So the two of them were now sitting on a bench just outside the hospital, Elena on Derek's lap, both wrapped in his coat.

"Excited to have the day off of school?" Derek wondered. Even the little conversations with his daughter meant the world to him.

Elena nodded. "It's nice spending extra time with you and Mommy." However, with a grin, she admitted, "I do wish ballet hadn't been cancelled, though; the recital is coming up really soon, and I still have to practice. I have a duet with my friend Carrie; she's in my class at school. Oh, and did I tell you that my teacher gave me a solo, too?"

According to all the statistics, Elena should have been barely capable of walking—certainly not doing a ballet solo. But then again, Elena had always been more than just a statistic. "I can't wait to see it. I know you'll be amazing."

Meanwhile, Meredith had just ended a long conversation with her sister, who assured her repeatedly that both of her children were doing just fine. In an attempt to take her mind off counting down the minutes until she could see Hayden and Aida again, she busied herself with paperwork until a familiar voice called for her attention.

"Got anything good?" Cristina questioned with a playful grin, with her boys behind her and baby Lillian in her arms—the primary place she'd been since she was released from the hospital. Cristina was like a completely different person from when Lillian was first born, and it was such a relief for everyone.

"Well, look who couldn't stay away from the hospital," Meredith teased her friend, then turned her attention to the baby. "And how is Little Miss Lily?" she asked in a sweet, playful voice, taking her from Cristina's arms.

Cristina nodded. "She's doing just great. Actually, we're here for a checkup with Addison, and Burke promised the boys lunch since it's a snow day."

"Sounds like fun," Meredith remarked, smiling at Oliver and Aaron. "Well, I won't keep you from your appointment. But I did tell you about Christmas Eve, right?"

"Only twenty or thirty times," Cristina said in subtle sarcasm. "Should I have Burke cook anything?"

Meredith shrugged and answered, "You don't have to, but you can if you want. Derek's mom and sisters and their families are coming to town and my side of the family will be there, too, so I'm sure they'll make good use of my kitchen. Izzie said she'd do all the deserts, though, so we've got that covered."

"I don't know how you do it, Mer," Cristina said, shaking her head.

"Do what?"

"Over thirty people are going to be in and out of your house for a week, and you aren't even batting an eye. And not just people—family. I just… don't know how you do it."

With a coy grin, she replied, "After six years at Seattle Grace, I think I can handle pretty much anything."

…

Alex sighed as he sat down in a chair between his daughters' beds and closed the book that he had been reading to them. After a long day at the hospital, there was nothing quite like the peaceful quiet of home. He had just gotten Lydia and Sophie to sleep and was now relishing, for a moment, their sweet, innocent faces as they slept.

Izzie would be home any minute, and finally they would be able to spend some much-needed quiet time together. Every year at about this time, right before Christmas, Izzie's cheerful demeanor always changed a little. She wasn't what anyone would call depressed—perhaps nostalgic was the best term. She went through a period of a few days where it was nothing but looking through photo albums and watching old home movies, but regardless of how much Alex questioned it, she just smiled and left it at that.

This year, however, it seemed a little more intense. Just an hour ago, he had come home to find her nearly in tears. After assuring him that it was nothing—just a memory that had caught her off guard and that she would be fine after a quick drive to clear her head—he kissed her cheek and reassured her that he was there for her if she needed him and let her go. He knew all about ghosts of the past, but he also knew that there was nothing she could say to make him stop loving her.

The telephone rang, calling him back to the real world, and he hurried to answer it as not to wake the girls. "Hello?"

"Hi. Um, is this the residence of Isobel Stevens? I mean, Isobel Karev?" a young woman asked nervously on the other line.

"It is, but she isn't home right now."

"Oh." The disappointment in her voice was obvious.

"Can I take a message?" he asked, then diligently wrote down a name and telephone number. "All right. I'll give her this as soon as she gets home. Bye." He then hung up the phone, not thinking twice about the phone call. After all, it wasn't unusual for one of the children that Izzie had formerly counseled to give her a call to say thanks and let her know how they were doing.

About ten minutes later, Alex heard the door open and got up to greet his wife. "Hey, Iz," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "Feeling better? You look like you feel better."

"I do," she smiled, and he could tell that it was genuine. "How were the girls?"

"They were great. I read them Cinderella, and they fell right asleep. Didn't even ask a hundred questions," he grinned and remembered suddenly, "Oh, you had a phone call."

"Seriously? Who was it?" she wondered, hanging up her coat. Any of their friends would have called her cell phone, so she knew it must have been someone out of the ordinary.

"I got her name and number," he answered and went to retrieve the piece of paper. "She said her name was Hannah Neilson. Sound familiar?"

But at that moment, Izzie couldn't even manage to speak; she could hardly breathe. Exactly eighteen years ago today, she'd made the most difficult decision of her life and gave up her beautiful baby girl to a family who could give her child everything that she couldn't.

And, she knew, they had named the baby Hannah.