By the time they reached Addison's apartment, Meredith had turned even paler than she had been before. The blonde was too damaged to think about the effects of crossing the doorstep, but she knew she wouldn't like anything that followed. The only thing she could think of was taking a couple of showers and then curling up into a ball, hiding under several layers of blankets, building a fort to protect her from whatever was yet to come. She forced herself not to think about anything else, knowing she could neither handle thoughts about what had just happened nor about anything further in the future than her fort-building.
The problem was Addison seemed to have other plans...
As soon as they had entered the only halfway furnished apartment, she started asking questions - Was she sure she wanted to stay here? Was she sure she didn't want any treatment? Was she aware of the fact that the chances of finding usable evidence that could help to catch the bastard who had done this to her were increasing by any move she made, any shower she took ( - or any second she spent standing in the hall of her ex-boyfriend's wife waiting to wake up from this nightmare, both of them were thinking, but no one said it out loud).
"I can't do this." Meredith finally whispered, still standing in the hallway.
Addison sighed. "What do you mean?"
"... everything..."
"Yes you can, Meredith! You will get through this."
Mere didn't answer. Instead, she stared towards the floor, avoiding Addison's gaze, avoiding the pitiful look in the other woman's eyes.
"I... I know I am probably the last person on Earth you'd want to share this with, but please..." She didn't have to finish her sentence. Meredith knew she wanted some answers. Some of them would be of the kind a doctor usually asked, whereas others were probably rather the kind of questions a friend would ask... Yeah, there was something in her eyes Meredith could not handle. Addison cared - and she didn't only care out of a sense of obligation. She didn't only care because she was a doctor. She cared the same way Cristina, or Izzie or George would have cared - and that was actually quite cute. The only problem was that it made Meredith feel obligated to let her in. To tell her. Everything!
Wasn't that exactly what she had wanted to avoid?
Wasn't that the reason why she had agreed on staying with Addison tonight?
Meredith hadn't even noticed she had started shaking again until Addison gently placed her hand into her own and started shushing, before she whispered an apology.
Speaking up now, she added: "I know it doesn't feel that way right now, but it is your body, Grey, your life. You decide. I just want you to know that... I'm here for you... okay?"
Meredith slightly nodded, still unable to look Addison in the eyes.
"Is there anything I can do right now?"
"Just... let me t-take a shower, okay?"
Addison didn't repeat what she had said before about preserving evidence. Meredith was a doctor herself. She knew that, and Addison had made sure she also remembered it. Who was she to deny Meredith what she obviously needed right now, what could make her feel at least a little less disgusting, a little less broken?
"There are towels and some sweat-pants and T-shirts in the cardboard moving box over there. Help yourself. I'll wait for you in the living room - okay?" Meredith nodded again, then disappeared.
Although the night was regularly over, it had not even begun yet...