-1Disclaimer: This chapter contains some subjects that are sensitive and not suitable for all ages. Please do not attempt any of the actions demonstrated by the characters, and if you are currently practicing them please contact someone who can help you.
Author's Note: I am not quite sure how I feel about this chapter. It wasn't easy to write and it did not go in the direction I had planned on taking. I do hope it answers some questions. I also hope it is taken in the context that it is intended: two friends sharing, one trying to help the other. And, in case it isn't clear, two weeks has passed. In that time Meredith has avoided Cristina. Cristina has realized how much her friends mean to her. Some other things have happened, but I am saving them for the next update
October 11th
Fingers trembling, Meredith stares at the smooth skin of her inner thigh, scalpel poised. Her mind fumbles to recall when she had last felt the need to over throw the emotional with the physical. Not since her mother's email declaring her an ordinary embarassment. Seven weeks of being anything but ordinary. What a fool she had been. She wasn't extraordinary, she was just…Meredith. Dark, twisted, damaged Meredith.
A small whimper whispers across her tense lips as she presses the blade into her delicate flesh. Deeper, deeper still, she presses, transfixed by the ruby colored blood that slowly seeped from the inch long cut. Pressing even deeper, she fights to not cry out. She needed the pain. She needed something…anything…to make the ugly horror of that night two weeks ago away.
"I know you're in there, so you might as well open the door."
Gritting her teeth, Meredith ignores Cristina's strained declaration. Closing her eyes, she drags the razor sharp blade through her flesh. The last person she wanted to see was the girl on the other side of the thin white door.
"Acting a bit childish, don't you think?"
Again, the words fell on deaf ears. Nothing the other girl said would get through the haze that had settled around her. She wasn't sure which end was up. Her own thoughts warred with the logic Derek and Izzie had spouted. Cristina would have more logic. She didn't want to hear anymore logic, especially not from Cristina.
"This is bloody ridiculous Meredith. I've said I was sorry. Over and over again. I don't know what the fuck else I'm suppose to say or do. I'm not good at this friend thing. Clearly." There is a loud sigh followed by disgusted harrumphing noise. "You know, I'm not going to keep apologizing. I'm not going to just wait for you to grow up and quit sulking. So I left you at a party having a good time. Big deal."
Meredith tightens her hold on the scalpel. Grow up. Quit sulking. Good time. Big deal. Each accusation, each word, was like a blow. She wanted to scream that there was nothing fun about being drugged and having two men use her while she was unconscious, that not knowing the exact details of that night was a big deal, that she was more grown up than Cristina herself, that she was allowed to sulk after what she had been through. She wouldn't though. She would not give into the urge to scream. Instead, she would cut the pain from her. She would cut out every ache that constricted her soul.
"Fine. You know what, I have better things to do than wait around for some silly girl who has mommy issues to decide to be my friend again."
Something inside her snapped. Throwing the surgical instrument down, Meredith yanked the bathroom door open, green eyes blazing. "Maybe I have better things to do than hang around selfish bitches who leave their friends at the mercy of heartless pricks. Maybe I have better things to do than hear you apologize for what happened to me that night!"
Cristina stares at her eyes wide. "What are you talking about? What happened to you that night?" Dark eyes glide over Meredith's body, settling on the blood that was pouring down her leg and onto the white tile. Her lips part, as though to ask what had happened, then snap shut when she notices the scalpel. "Mere…"
"Don't. Don't look at me that way. You don't know shit abut my life." Meredith shifts around, drawing her legs up against her chest. Warm liquid continued to ooze down her leg. She doesn't care. It was letting the pain go. It was freeing her.
"Don't I? I know your mother is a moron who doesn't have a clue about you, cause if she did she wouldn't treat you the way she does. I know that you miss your father even though you say you don't care and that you hate him for leaving. I know that you are not tough as you try to come off," Cristina shot back. There was no disguising the bit of hurt that clouded her dark eyes. "I also know that doing what you're doing," she motions towards the scalpel and the blood forming a small pool beneath Meredith, "it isn't going to help."
Meredith scowls. Damn it. This is what she got for letting people in. Well meaning friends who thought they knew best. Derek and Izzie wanting her to see some counselor. Alex harping at her to go to a doctor. Now Cristina had the audacity to tell her the one thing that made her feel better didn't help. Showed what she knew. Showed what they all knew. Counselors did nothing but ask how things made her feel. Doctors violated already violated bodies. Cutting made the emotional pain bearable.
"You think it fixes things, right? That it makes it all bearable?" The dark haired girl folded her tiny body into the corner opposite Meredith's. "All it does is distract you from facing the problem. That was $25,000 worth of advice you know. My father paid out a good chunk to have me 'fixed' and you're getting it for free. No, I didn't get my jollies from slicing and dicing myself. Nothing as interesting as that. Just the boring ole suicide attempt by sleeping pill. Which doesn't work, you know. It just earns you a rather long nap, a stomach pumping, and a trip to the psyche ward."
"I tried to jump off a ferry boat. Derek stopped me. That's how we met." Meredith frowns, unsure why she had let that bit of information slip. She never use to spill her dark secrets, but then she had never really had someone to spill them to. "I'm not mad at you. About leaving. I'm just…I don't know…" Her voice thickens as she searches for the words to explain. It had been so easy with the others. She had been numb with the surreal shock of it all. "I don't remember that night."
Cristina frowns, toying with the cuff of her denim pants. The toe of one black stiletto taps against the tile. To some it would have been a sign of boredom. Meredith knew it to be a habit only. "You don't remember? Did you get that sloshed?"
"I don't now. Maybe. I don't remember." Her index finger reaches up twisting a lock of hair around it. Without the strength of shock she found the words hard to form. She couldn't just blurt it out. She wasn't even sure she could say it. "I…I…I don't remember anything. Just waking up. Naked. With two guys." There. She had said it. It still left a sour taste in her mouth. Still left her with the need to scrub herself with soap and hot water.
"You're kidding right? Like a haha pull one over on silly ole Cristina right?" Cristina stares at her, her dark gaze intense. The pounding of her heart could be heard. "Mere, tell me that was some sick joke." Meredith gives her a small, sad smile, tears burning her eyes. "Oh God. Mere."
"It's okay. I'm fine." Her attempt at nonchalance fell flat.
"It's not okay. You're not fine. Tell me you reported it. Tell me you're talking to someone. Anyone. Even that frigid mother of your's." It must have been written on her face that she hadn't done so, for Cristina let out a groan. "You have to talk to someone. Do you think you can fix this yourself? That by saying nothing it will just go away?"
"I can handle this," Meredith insists, her stomach twisting into a million knots. This was her pain, she would deal with it how she seen fit. She didn't need for some shrink to tell her how stupid she had been for putting herself in that position.
"Bull shit! Handle it how? Cutting yourself to shreds? Thought we just covered that. Cutting doesn't fix the problem, it just distracts you from dealing. You have to deal. If you don't, it's going to eat you alive. Trust me, I know." Cristina scoots closer, her face wrinkled into concern. She looked older, wiser, than her sixteen years.
"You have no clue how I feel! You weren't drugged. You weren't…" She couldn't even say it. She couldn't even say the word. Rape. It was so ugly. How could she even be sure she was tainted by that ugliness? Her mind drew a blank every time she tried to recall the events of that night.
"You're right. I've never had that happen. I have had moments in my life though where I felt I could handle something that was bigger than me. Strong or not, we sometimes we cannot handle things on our own. Sometimes we have to ask for help. Now is one of those times. You have to talk to someone Meredith. You cannot go through life thinking you're to blame for some selfish pricks actions. They're to blame. Them and their stupid boy penises. Not you." The vehemence in Cristina's voice left them both stunned into silence. This was a side of each other they had never seen. Compassion from a girl dubbed as cold, distant, heartless. Sick fetishes for dealing with issues from a girl who seemed to have it all. "We're kids, Mere. No matter how grown up we act, or how much we want it to be otherwise, the fact remains that we're still just kids."
"Who? Who am I suppose to talk to? You said it yourself, my mother is a frigid bitch. All she cares about is discovering new ways to become a surgical God. Izzie's mom? Derek's mom? I don't know them well enough." A small part of her wish she did. A small part of her wished she had met Izzie and Derek in the sandbox, had their mothers guiding her through life. They had no clue how lucky they were. Hell, she even envied Alex. His mother made some small effort during the gaps in her schedule. Usually via text message, but still, it was more than she got from Ellis. If Ellis emailed or sent a text it was to remind her how ordinary she was.
"Fine. You can't talk to your mother, and I get why you wouldn't want to talk to Izzie or Derek's. There has to be someone." Tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear, Cristina puckers her lips and brows, deep in thought. "I got it. Bailey. She's a bitch at times, but she does listen."
"You want me to spill my guts to The Nazi?" The Nazi. Miranda Bailey. The woman's name alone inspired fear in the hearts of all who stepped into her classroom. "I don't even know her. And what I do know of her scares me."
"You've got to stop listening to that chav Sloan. He knows nothing. He scratches his balls in public for God's sake." The door slams against the wall behind her, startling Cristina into an upright position. "Bailey is tough, yes, but she is also understanding. Hell, she's tutoring my quack of a roomie. Anyone willing to do that can't be all bad."
"I can't." Lowering her gaze, Meredith dabs at the cut on her thigh. The blood had dried to a dirty rust color. She would have to clean it off eventually. It was high up enough that it wouldn't show, unless she wore a pair of shorts, which wouldn't be happening, not with the cool fall weather.
"Can't? Or won't?" Cristina challenged.
"Fine. Won't. I don't know about you, but I don't exactly want to get kicked out." A shiver runs through her body. Sad as it was, this was her home. Here. Where she actually had friends who cared about her. "I don't want us to get in trouble."
"Fuck that. I don't give a shit if I get kicked out." Wisps of dark hair fall across her pale forward as she shakes her head. Cristina looked at her, face still wrinkled up. "You're more important Mere."
"Why do you care so much?" The question came out of no where. Yet, she had to ask, she had to know. She had come to expect warm hugs, giggles, and sweet declarations of caring from Izzie. She had come to expect strength, loyalty, and a quiet connection with Derek. There was even something there with Alex and Addison. She had never expected anything from Cristina, outside a good time. It had never occurred to her there could be more.
"I never really had friends before. Nobody ever really wanted to try. Guess I come across as a bitch at times. But you…you and Izzie…you've…hell I don't know. I don't know why I care, okay? I'm not a caring person. I don't usually care…caring leaves you open to hurt. Been there. Done that. Have the dead mother to prove it. This one shrink…this one was before the one with the brilliant declaration that I was avoiding…said I had commitment issues, that I was afraid to let people in because subconsciously I thought they were going to die. Who knows. Maybe they're right. And…if that is the case…you've got to talk to someone…because this cutting thing…it's no good. Do you know how much therapy I would need if you offed yourself? Quite a bit, I can assure you. And, it's not like I would have Izzie to help me cope. Girl is nothing if not loyal. Won't even talk to me." Cristina let out a sigh.
"So, basically, the only reason you care is because you miss Izzie's chattering and you don't want to go to another therapist?" Meredith couldn't help the small giggle. Squinting her eyes shut and her nose up, she shakes her head, grinning. Even with the smile on her face she felt like crying. She couldn't even really say why. Perhaps Cristina was right. Perhaps she couldn't do this on her own. God, that sucked. Knowing she would have to rely on some adult. Adults never cared about anything but their careers and how the world viewed them. Fuck the messed up kids in their care. "I'll talk to Bailey. I'm not making any promises though."
"Good. Now, one last thing…can you please tell Izzie to be my friend again? Cause I miss her chattering you know?"
It happened at once. One giant bursting. Burst of tears. Burst of laughter. She burst. With the burst came a sense of relief. For once, she gave herself the hope that things would be okay.
Okay. Now review. Please. lol