A/N - I'm going to try to update this story as much as possible this week because next week I have to go back to school. And so, while I'll definitely keep writing, I might only be able to update a few times a week as opposed to every other day or so. Anyway, here's chapter 4, one of the ones I've been very excited to write. Because it has Mer/Der actually interacting and it has Bailey, and both those things make me happy. Derek's section is a lot shorter then Meredith's in this chapter because there was simply more I wanted to cover with her, however it should be back to a more equal division next chapter. Alright, that's enough of my rambling. Just want to say thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, each one makes me smile and completely makes my day. So please, read away and review!

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Meredith

Sound returns first, finding it's way through to me. To where I am, to wherever here is…I don't know exactly where that is. It's someplace strange, like the middle of a fog, soft and heavy and sleep-filled. It's simply here and somehow sound finds its way in, disturbing the cocoon of peace and silence with a steady beep…beep…beep. I've heard that sound before, I think I hear it every day. But I don't know what it is… And so I just lay still, listening as the silence is continually broken into even beats, until finally I know. I know that sound. It's the constant rhythmic beeping of a monitor. I'm in the hospital. And with that knowledge, the fog starts to dissapate and there is more to here then silence and beeping. There's the gentle steady sound of someone breathing, and the vague hum of voices and footsteps in the distance. But most importantly there is the sense of indescribable, overwhelming safety. And this isn't something that I hear, but something that I feel. I wiggle the fingers of my right hand, as I realize what it is, where the feeling is coming from. My hand is clasped tightly with another hand, a hand that isn't my own. Someone's fingers are laced together with mine. I tighten my grip, and the other hand tightens it's in response. As it does, the last of the fog fades away.

"Mmm…" I moan, shifting and struggling to open my eyes. They feel heavy and tired, but after a moment they open slightly. I was right, I'm in the hospital. The room is too white and glowing with light to be anywhere else. "Umm," I say quietly, not wanting to turn my head and find the owner of the hand that's clasped in mine. I have a good idea of whose it is. But incase I'm wrong, incase it's not, I don't want to know. I want to be able to lie here and pretend it's his hand.

"Mer?" I sigh as he speaks, my eyes fluttering all the way open. I'm pretty sure I'm grinning. I can't help it. I don't have to pretend, because that's his voice. Which means…it's his hand in mine. It's him. "You're awake," he says softly, and I nod as I finally turn my head to look at him.

"Derek," I say quietly, my voice not much above a whisper. He's sitting next to me, dressed in a pair of scrubs. His dark hair is messy and he's leaning forward onto the bed, his hand closely locked with mine. He nods at the sound of my voice, his face melting into a smile that makes his eyes crinkle up at the corners. I love it when his eyes crinkle like that. I'd reach out and trace the little lines if it didn't mean that I'd have to let go of his hand. (And if it wouldn't make me seem just a little bit crazy.)

"You're awake," he repeats a little louder then before, sounding absolutely delighted over the fact that I'm conscious. I smile again, because Derek just looks so happy that I can't help but feel that smiling and grinning and staring at each other are the only possible things for us to be doing right now.

"So are you," I say, smirking slightly. He laughs at this, ducking his head down in a short nod that is full of his smile and eyes that are even more crinkled then before. I sigh happily, moving to sit up. As I struggle to loosen the sheets that have me practically trapped in place, Derek leans forward. His arm loops around me, making quick work of the sheets, and suddenly I'm sitting upright, pressed against pillows and Derek's chest. I'm pretty sure that this is a hell of a lot different then our last interaction, and that resting my head against his shoulder is probably not what I'm supposed to be doing right now. I'm probably supposed to be pushing him away, or saying something angry or, at the very least, something a little less intimate then a whispered version of his name.

But I can't seem to care. Even though I'm awake, all of the details haven't yet filtered through from the fog. Here is simply here, and free from everything else that isn't in this room at this moment. And right now, I'm failing to see much of anything other then Derek. (This explanation is probably not going to fly in another hour or so, but seriously…why fight it right now?) Why fight it when Derek's hands are tracing circles down my back, slow gentle circles that make me shiver and lean in closer to him… Actually, I think even if I waged an all out war right now, I still wouldn't be able to fight it. He's too close to me, every curve of our bodies fitting precisely together. And so (even though I know it's a stupid thing to do) I lift my head and tilt it upward, looking into the one place I'm sure I should not look. His eyes. Because his eyes are dark and smoky and painfully blue. As soon as his gaze locks with mine, the feeling starts up…that irresistible feeling that I've never quite learned to fight when it comes to Derek. It's the one that makes me stop breathing, that slips an invisible hook deep into my stomach and reels me in, dizzy and desperate to be with him.

We seem to be moving in slow motion, inching closer and closer to each other. Until finally…there is no space left. The little nagging voice in the back of my mind (the one that likes to point out that Derek is an inappropriate man) just curls up and dies, because he's kissing me. He's kissing me, and I'm kissing him back as his hands cup my face, holding me close to him. It's a tangle that is soft and sweet and safe, and yet somehow so much more. It makes me ache.

Finally I pull away, because by this point it's either pull away or pull off his scrubs. And the fog has been gone long enough for me to realize that no - that would be bad. Seriously bad. I sigh as I reluctantly settle back against the pillows, my body feeling suddenly cold now that it's not against his. Derek smiles as he fiddles with a loose strand of my hair, and I run my tongue over my swollen lips as I catch sight of the IV inserted into my arm. I had forgotten that I was here for a reason, because well…Derek. He makes me forget everything that isn't him. But I'm in a hospital bed and there's an IV in my arm, so there's definitely a reason. I stare at the IV, frowning as I start to remember.

My horrible, horrible hangover. Bailey, the operating room, the ruptured spleen. And feeling so dizzy that I couldn't even remember how to stand.

I turn back to Derek. I can tell he's already sensed the change in my mood because he's just sitting there quietly, his expression calm as he watches me. "What happened?" I ask hesitantly.

"You fainted."

"I fainted," I echo, my frown deepening. I fight the urge to roll my eyes because seriously, I'm a doctor here. I gathered as much as that. "No…why Derek? Am I alright?"

He grins again, as if amused by the annoyance in my voice. "You're going to be fine Mer," he says simply. I smile at his words, instantly feeling much less worried. I've worked with Derek for how many months now? I know all of his doctor voices, and that one he just used right there, that one is a good one. It means there are no hidden catches, there are no other shoes waiting to drop. It's simply good news. I'm simply going to be fine. Still he looks frustratingly smug, sitting there all full of medical knowledge while I know nothing other then "fine."

"You are useless," I say, making a face at him. I lean forward and stretch a hand out towards the foot of my bed. "Gimme my chart," I demand.

"Nope," he says at once.

"No?"

"No."

"What the…you're not gonna…no? Seriously Derek?"

"Seriously Meredith." He nods, giving me the I'm-charming-and-I-know-you-want-me smirk, complete with dimples and raised eyebrows. I sigh in frustration, falling back against the pillows. He just keeps grinning at me maddeningly.

"And why not?"

"Because…"

"Because? That's all the explanation you think you need to give me?" I ask, glowering at him. "Derek Shepherd, you'd better elaborate."

"Because," he continues, still looking unbelievably amused as he shifts to sit down on the bed next to me. "It's making you annoyed." I nod at this, crossing my arms over my chest. "And…you pout when you're annoyed."

"I pout?"

"You pout," he agrees. "And…" He's speaking slowly, almost leisurely, leaning closer to me with each word. "You're cute when you pout." He reaches out, one of his fingers tracing the line of my lower lip.

"Oh…" I gasp, but the sound is lost, captured within his mouth. And, wow…how did we end up back like this so soon? Suddenly everything is warm and urgent, sliding with teeth and tongues, hands quickly moving to places that are hardly work appropriate. As if any of this is work appropriate. (Or even just plain appropriate.) But somehow, I'm pretty sure that his hand under my gown, sliding up my stomach and onto my breast is even worse then the two of us just kissing.

Still…oh my god…there are seriously good things about backless gowns afterall.

I arch into Derek's hand, pulling him closer to me as my hand drifts down, finding the tie to his scrub pants and pulling it undone. And I know this is wrong, every possible kind of wrong, but…I've had a horrible day. I was hungover and I fainted, and spent the rest of the time unconscious. So, is it that hard to understand that right now I just need something that feels good?

Okay…it probably is that hard to understand.

I'd love to try and rationalize a more believeable excuse, or (even better) convince myself to stop before we actually have sex in a hospital bed. But Derek's tongue is deep inside my mouth and both his hands are under my clothes, so I'm having a lot of difficulty thinking clearly. You know…I think I'm just going to go with it. Be flexible. See what happens.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

Okay…I did not expect that to happen.

Derek and I pull apart, my face flushing so hard and fast that it's almost painful. I push my hair out of my eyes, looking up to focus on the figure in the doorway, and my shock turns instantly into relief. The person standing there is just about the only person I can deal with seeing this. "Cristina!" I hiss as I scoot back into the far corner of the bed, pulling my blanket all the way up to my chin.

"Seriously," she says, smirking as she backs immediately out the open doorway. "Nice neuro consult you're doing there."

The door slams shut and I start to breathe a sigh of relief, but the sigh doesn't even make it past my lips before I hear a second voice coming from beyond the closed door. "Neuro consult? Yang, I didn't order a neuro consult." And that voice, well that voice causes me to turn and look at Derek with what I'm sure can only be described as a look of pure horror on my face. Because…Bailey. Bailey. Doctor Bailey, my boss, is standing just outside of my room. The blinds are closed, why oh why couldn't the door have been locked as well? I reach up and try to smooth my hair with one hand while struggling to put my gown back in place with the other. I seriously wish curling up into a ball and hiding beneath the covers was an option because I'm sure that as soon as that door opens (and oh it will open) things are going to get seriously awkward in here. Derek slumps down into the chair beside my bed, and I almost smirk as I catch him quickly buttoning his lab coat. However, I don't actually smirk, because now I suddenly have plenty of self control. Hell of a lot of good that does me.

"This is bad…" I hiss, looking desperately at Derek as the door to my room swings open again. Bailey walks in, followed closely by Cristina, who is looking like Christmas just came early. Actually…no, Cristina doesn't like Christmas. Her look is more like the one she gets when she's assigned to a particularly good surgery. Either way, she's standing there all amused, with raised eyebrows and barely concealed laughter, while Bailey glances back and forth between Derek and I, her eyes narrowing skeptically.

"What is going on in here?" she asks, her hands on her hips.

"Umm…we…nothing…" I start to stammer. I seem to have forgotten how to speak in proper English, but that's not surprising because I can feel Bailey's eyes practically burning holes in my flesh. I turn my gaze from the doorway, staring fixedly down at my hands and wishing that they would all just go away. Because suddenly, this room isn't just here anymore. It's been pulled back into reality and it's not just us in here, it's no longer just Derek and Meredith. It's the adulterer and his dirty mistress whore. His cheating whore because seriously, I have plans with Finn. Plans with him tonight. I groan and close my eyes, shaking my head slightly. I'm supposed to be angry at Derek, I'm supposed to be not speaking to him. I'm not supposed to be almost having sex with him while I'm still hooked up to a freaking IV.

"Did I call for a neuro consult?" asks Bailey when the only answer she gets is my stammered non-answer. My eyes flutter open again and I cringe because no, I'm one hundred percent sure that she did not ask for a neuro consult.

"Umm…" I begin, but Bailey holds up a hand and I promptly stop speaking.

"Did I call for a neuro consult, Dr. Shepherd?" she repeats pointedly, turning to look at Derek. I glance over at him as well. I don't know how he's managing it, but somehow he looks guilt-free and not even the slightest bit startled. In fact, he almost looks as amused as Cristina.

"Well she did fall," he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "She might have hurt her head. I should probably check her out…you know, examine things." Cristina snorts at this, but quickly turns the sound into a cough. And…oh god…oh god…oh god… Did he seriously just say that? I cannot believe Derek said that. He's actually teasing and grinning and looking charming while Bailey is standing right there, at the foot of my very rumpled bed. I cannot believe it. This must be what dying feels like.

But Bailey just scoffs. "She was sitting down when she collapsed. Her head is fine. Girl's dehydrated, not brain damaged! Now you on the other hand, you I'm not so sure about."

"I'm not brain damaged," says Derek slightly defensively.

"You are if you think there's any way I'm letting you examine her."

"Fine, I'm just in here visiting then." Derek glances over at me before turning back to smile smugly at Bailey. "Meredith and I are friends, you know."

"I'm sure," says Bailey, shaking her head and sounding completely unconvinced. "Now, out."

"Out?" echoes Derek. He frowns, looking very confused.

"Yes, out - as in get up, leave, vacate the area."

"But…" begins Derek, but Bailey interrupts him immediately.

"You said so yourself, you're here as a visitor not a doctor. And Meredith needs her rest right now, so as her doctor, I'm telling her visitor to get out!" Derek frowns again, but straightens up.

"So bossy," he says lightly, shaking his head as he moves past her. Bailey just raises an eyebrow and stares pointedly at the door. "Feel better Mer," he adds with a smile before walking out. I nod and close my eyes, sighing when I finally hear the door close.

"Yang, you can go to. I need to speak with Meredith." My eyes fly open immediately at this, and I turn to look desperately at Cristina.

"Oh no…Dr. Bailey. She can stay! Cristina can stay, I don't mind at all."

"I don't mind to stay," volunteers Cristina eagerly.

"No. Cristina can't stay. I'm now down not one, but two interns," says Bailey to me, and I offer up a guilty apologetic smile. Seriously, I do feel bad for Cristina and George and Alex, and the sheer amount of work that's probably piling up for them. However, none of them are about to be trapped alone in a room with Bailey, and I think the mountain of work actually sounds more enjoyable. "Why are you still standing here?" continues Bailey, as she turns her attention to Cristina. "Go on!" Cristina lingers for another second, glancing back at me, before nodding and leaving the room as well.

I shuffle uncomfortably in the bed, wishing that the room hadn't suddenly turned so obviously silent and empty. I'm bigger then Bailey, but somehow she seems to be towering over me. It must be because I'm practically laying down, but I just feel so…small. I bite my lip, bracing myself for whatever she's going to say, however Bailey just sighs and sits down in the chair Derek had vacated. "How are you feeling Grey?" she asks, and I look up at her in surprise. Her voice has turned several shades gentler then it was moments before. The sudden kindness in her tone catches me off guard, and before I realize it, I'm laying back against the pillows and contemplating her question. I feel tired, as if I could drift back to slip right now without any effort at all. My head still hurts, but nowhere near as badly as before. Mostly I'm just tired. I tell her and she simply listens, nodding her head occasionaly.

"Why did I faint though?" I ask when I finish, propping myself up on my elbow. "Der…Dr. Shepherd didn't get to that part." I flinch as I almost call Derek by his first name (my mind flashing back to just what we'd been doing), and I catch Bailey furrowing her eyebrows.

However, she skips right over my mention of Derek, simply saying, "You were dehydrated."

"Oh…right," I say, realizing that she'd already said that. I'd simply been too caught up in what was happening between Bailey and Derek for it to register. "Dehydrated," I echo, nodding my head and feeling suddenly guilty.

"Yes. Any idea what caused you to become dehydrated?"

"Umm…" I say slowly, avoiding Bailey's eyes. Why yes, I have a pretty excellent idea of just what caused me to become dehydrated. However, it's not something that I want Bailey, of all people, to know.

"Grey, you're a doctor," she continues, her voice returning to its usual, straightforward tone. "You know what causes dehydration. Any number of infectious diseases and survival situations." She cocks her head towards me, a smug look on her face that just screams that she knows that I know what I did. "Shock, blood loss, hyponatremia, vomiting, hypotension, fasting, excessive drinking…any of those ringing any bells?" she continues. I shrug, staring down at the blanket. Why do I have the feeling that she's not going to buy the idea that I simply forgot to drink any water?

"Umm…" I say again, my cheeks flushing. Leave it to me to actually become dehydrated thanks to drinking. "No?" I try hesitantly, glancing over at Bailey. "No idea?" She's silent for a moment, just leaving me sitting here, staring at my blanket.

I hear her sigh and she says, "Right now I'm not your boss, okay? I'm your doctor. Now were you just being stupid or should I worry about your health here Grey?" I really would like to just keep staring at my blanket in silence, but that's not an option. She's Bailey, and it's not good (or sane, or even remotely possible) to ignore Bailey for long once she's asked you a question.

"Stupid," I finally say, my voice coming out very thin and small. "Definitely being stupid." I glance anxiously up at Bailey, trying to gauge her reaction. She looks serious, but not exactly angry. I really hope she'll be satisfied with that explanation and not make me admitt just how many shots I had at Joe's or how many hours I spent throwing up last night.

"Fine. If you're certain," she says, not sounding even slightly surprised by my answer.

"I'm certain," I say glumly as I tug absently on the edge of the blanket. (Today is not a good day.)

"Meredith," she continues, her voice dipping back into the strangely gentle tone she'd first used when Cristina and Derek left. I nod hesitantly, looking up at her. She never calls me Meredith. "You want to tell me what's really going on here?" I blink in astonishment, just staring at her. "You want to tell me just what Shepherd was doing in your room?" At this point, I'm pretty sure that my mouth is hanging open and I'm gaping at her like a fish. Because wow, talk about catching me off guard. I was not expecting her to bring that up, at least not now, after we'd already made it safely into medical talk.

For a moment, I almost want to tell her. I have no idea what's going on in my life, and even less of an idea about how to start fixing things. Cristina's mostly just amused by all of it. And Derek…well, lately I do not understand the way his mind works at all. And groping each other in a hospital bed does not even come close to figuring things out. I think it just adds more to the mess. So I seriously wish I could tell Bailey. After all, she's not being my boss right now, just my doctor. Maybe if I told her about the prom, and Finn's plans, and how Derek and I jump straight from ignoring each other to kissing desperately…well, maybe she'd be able to explain some of it to me. But Addison delivered her baby, and I'm just a slutty screw up of an intern. Why would she be on my side? Hell…I don't even know why I'm on my side here.

But before I can even start figuring any of this out, my mouth is already stammering a reply. "There's nothing going on between Derek and I…I mean Dr. Shepherd…and…well, it's totally nothing. I mean we're friends, but that's it. Seriously, he was just visiting."

I hate it when my lips don't consult with my brain before speaking, because then I end up saying stupid things (like adamantly claiming there's nothing going on with Derek and I, when that wasn't even the question Bailey asked.) Fabulous. Maybe I can manage to pass out a second time and escape the rest of this conversation? "Just visiting," I hear myself stammering again. "I didn't ask him to come in." Well, obviously I didn't ask him to come in. Seeing as I was unconscious at the time. Great job with the coverup there Meredith. Seriously, great job.

"Hmmm…" says Bailey, leaning back in her chair and giving me a long look.

"Nothing," I repeat hopefully, aiming for confidant and reassuring. Somehow it simply sounds weak and a little bit broken. I shrug helplessly, letting my head fall to the side as I look at Bailey.

"Alright Grey," she says as she stands up. "We'll leave it at that." She's frowning but her tone is still that gentle un-Bailey sound, so I have no idea what to think. I just nod my head, relieved that we are finally done with the interrogation. She sets my chart back down and starts to move towards the door.

"So does that mean I can go home now?" I know…not a chance. It's a stupid question. But still, I have to ask.

"No you do not get to go home now," says Bailey, turning back around. "You're staying here overnight and until we verify that you have regained a normal balance of water and electrolytes." I sigh and glare at the IV, wishing I could hurry the thing along. "Oh you don't get to complain," continues Bailey, catching my look. "You're laying down in bed while the rest of us are running holes in our shoes from all the extra work around here."

"Sorry," I stammer, realizing that I am propped up with three pillows and what appears to be one of the nicest, fluffiest blankets to be found within the walls of Seattle Grace.

"Mmhmm, that's what I thought," snaps Bailey, straightening her lab coat. She reaches out to open the door, but her hand halts, hovering just above the handle. "Do you want us to call anyone for you Grey? Do you want your mother informed?"

"No," I say immediately, perhaps a little too quickly judging by Bailey's raised eyebrow. "It's just…she's probably not even lucid right now. And if she is, well there's nothing she could do. It would just worry her for no reason." Bailey nods and once again moves to leave, but this time I'm the one to stop her. "Umm…could you…could you have somebody call Finn Dandridge for me?"

"Finn Dandridge?" she echoes, turning back around.

"Yeah…his number's in my phone. Cristina will know…she could find it for you. Tell him that," I pause for a moment, hoping that he hasn't started cooking already. "Tell him that I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it to dinner tonight." Both of Bailey's eyebrows shoot straight up, and she looks almost amused by my request.

"Boyfriend, Grey?"

"Umm…sorta," I mumble, shrugging my shoulders. "I dunno…maybe."

"Uh huh," says Bailey, shaking her head. I have no idea why she looks so smug and amused. My personal life is very confusing. Some might even say it's traumatizing. (George would probably agree with me on traumatizing.) It is definitely not something people should be smirking over. Okay…maybe Cristina and I can smirk over it. We have to entertain ourselves somehow when we're at Joe's. But Bailey should not be smirking! The words Bailey and my personal life should not even be in the same sentences, but there they are. And there's her smirk. I should seriously just hide under the covers already.

But before I can disappear, Bailey's halfway out the door, and glancing back to answer me. "I'll have him called," she says, sending one finaly smirking headshake my way as she closes the door.

Derek

I walk straight out of the scrub room, letting the door swing loudly on its hinges, as I make my way over to the nurses' station. The hospital is quiet now, the rush of the day already emptied out and sent home, or put to sleep. I glance up at the clock as I untie my scrub cap and let it fall onto the counter. 10:52 I really should be heading home, I'm sure Addison's been there for hours already. However…it's hardly my fault that I'm still here. For once I'm not here completely on purpose. Even though I'm not the on-call neurosurgeon tonight, when a case comes in needing immediate surgery just as I'm about to leave, and the on-call surgeon is already in the middle of someone else's brain…I don't really have a choice. I have to operate. The awkward situation at home with the wife I've technically just cheated on for a second time didn't factor into my decision at all. Nope, not a bit. And it also wasn't due to some desire to stay near Meredith while she's here. I was simply being a good doctor. It was simply…business. My job, nothing more.

Still, since I'm here, I might as well go see Meredith again. Someone should make sure she's alright.

Although, I know she is. She woke up smiling at me. It's been so long since she's simply smiled at me, as if she was just happy that I was there. I honestly can't remember the last time she's smiled like that. Everything is always buried beneath so much baggage and anger between the two of us. But for a few moments there, it was as if all the pain had been forgotten. It's almost enough to melt away the image of her sprawled on the floor of the OR from my mind.

Almost, but not quite.

I don't think anything can make that image completely disappear, or help me forget the sick plummeting feeling it created in my stomach. Because…it's Meredith. I don't care if she's smiling or yelling or being completely unreasonable…it doesn't matter, just as long as she isn't unconscious and on the floor. I know she's fine now (and apparently no longer mad at me), but, for awhile, she wasn't fine. That fact alone is enough to propel me up to the fourth floor, and all the way down the hall towards her room.

The hallway is dim and silent, with a lone nurse flipping slowly through a magazine, her feet propped up on the counter. She doesn't even glance up as I walk past, and before I know it I'm at the end of the hall, my hand reaching out to open the door. However, a familiar voice cuts through the silence, and my outstretched hand drops immediately down to my side.

"Uh uh…don't you even think about touching that doorknob."

I turn around and come face to face with Bailey, exiting the room opposite Meredith's, and pulling the door shut behind her. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl already firmly in place on her brow. Great. So much for simply visiting Meredith.

"Evening Bailey," I say cheerfully, doing my best to ignore the look she's giving me. "Working late, I see." She doesn't answer, just continues to stare down at me, which is impressive considering the fact that I'm nearly twice her height. "Umm…I was just," I continue, motioning towards the closed door behind me. "I was just gonna…"

"You weren't just anything," interrupts Bailey, her eyes narrowing.

"I was just going to visit her," I protest. "She's probably bored, and could use some company." Somehow, in the time it takes me to say this, our positions have switched and Bailey has gotten herself in between myself and the door to Meredith's room.

"She's asleep, she's exhausted, and she's not to be bothered."

"I'm not going to bother her. I won't even wake her up."

"You can't see her," says Bailey flatly, shifting so that the doorknob is completely hidden by her body. I shake my head incredulously.

"I can't?"

"No. You can't," snaps Bailey, her voice rising. "You need to leave that girl alone. Meredith Grey is a smart woman. She made it through medical school, she's a good doctor. I don't doubt her intelligence. But the fact that she's laying in there," continues Bailey, pausing briefly to cock her head at the closed door. "The fact that she is laying in there because she actually drank herself dehydrated is beyond stupid. And the only thing she consistently lacks even a shred of intelligence about is you. So no Derek, you can't see her."

"I don't…I…if I could just…" I stammer, trying to process everything Bailey's just said. But she starts talking again before I'm even able to create a cohesive sentence.

"Go home, get some sleep. And let Meredith be. You're only going to hurt her."

"I'm not going to hurt her," I protest, suddenly able to reply, and growing somewhat angry at the accusation. Meredith is the last person I could want to hurt, and, seeing as Addison is at home, it's pretty much the last place I want to be reminded of right now. However, Bailey doesn't seem to be in the mood to listen to what I'm saying or to even care in the slightest that I'm scowling at her. Instead she just reaches out and takes hold of my elbow, steering me away from Meredith's room. I look down at my arm in shock, but I don't pull it away. I'm actually not completely sure that I could. Bailey is surprisingly strong. However, I glance reluctantly back at the closed door as she marches me towards the elevator. "You're seriously not going to let me see her?" I try one last time.

"I'm not," states Bailey firmly. "Not now, not in this hospital, not while she's my patient."

"We're friends though," I blurt out, causing Bailey to scoff and shake her head at me.

"That's what she said too."

"See," I say happily. "You should believe us." The only response I get is Bailey shooing me into the open elevator. "Come on Bailey," I insist, running a frustrated hand through my hair. "If we're both friends, why won't you just let me see her? Just for a little bit?"

"Because," she states evenly. "You two aren't friends." My mouth drops open and I start to protest once more, but Bailey just lets out a short bark of a laugh, reaching in with a hand to stop the elevator door from closing completely. She looks up at me, eyes narrowed, stating, "Your little mistress is a bad liar."

And with that, she turns on her heel and lets the door slide shut, leaving me alone in the elevator with nothing other then a horrible sinking feeling as her words echo over and over in my mind.