A/N: It took a little longer for me to post this than I wanted but it's because I wanted to finish the chapter that I've been working on and it has been beating me up with writer's block, but without further ado, here's the next update.
Burke orders me off of Mrs. Patterson's case after I go to him to explain my fear that I punctured her heart. If it wasn't for the fact that seconds after our conversation Burke and I both got a 911 page to Mrs. Patterson, I probably would have stayed off of the case. When we reach the CICU, we find Mrs. Patterson with a swollen sternum and gushing blood. Staring at her, the only thing I can think is that this is my fault. Something had to have happened during her procedure, my popped glove, for this to have happened.
We race Mrs. Patterson to the OR and the entire way, I'm apologizing. I'm looking at her as Burke and the other surgeons try to stop the bleeding and my brain keeps repeating, like a mantra, my fault my fault my fault. When we reach the scrub room Burke instructs me to scrub in and enter the sterile environment but not to put gloves on. He wants me in there so he can scold me and so I can see the damage I've done; I can only assume.
"What were you thinking about?" Burke admonishes me, "You had every opportunity to speak up before I closed her chest. Every opportunity. Suction."
"I'm sorry," I say.
"But," Burke says in a calmer tone, "We don't know if you caused this damage," My heart flutters a little at his words, "You should have told me, Grey, you should have told me when it happened. But you did the right thing coming to me, even if you did it late." Part of me feels like crying hearing his words, he might be mad at me, but he's not furious. I'm going to need to thank Derek and he's going to be insufferable about it seeing as he's the reason I went to Burke. As he speaks, Burke continues working to stop the bleed and repair any damage.
Leaning in close to the patient's open chest, Burke says, "There. Over here," He looks up for a second, makes eye contact with me, and motions for me to come over. I move slowly, my arms crossed, terrified to see damage I may have caused, "There, look at the wall rupture. That's a hell of a lot more than a fingernail. Her ventricular wall was weak."
"Oh my god," I gasp, relieved. I didn't do this.
"You're in the clear, Grey," Burke tells me, "Count your blessings. Now scrub out and update Mr. Patterson, understood?"
"Yes, sir," I reply as I hurry out to the scrub room. Never in my time as an intern have I been relieved to scrub out but as I methodically wash my hands, knowing that I didn't cause any damage to my patient, I have never been happier to be leaving an OR during an ongoing surgery.
After updating Mr. Patterson, I go looking for Derek. I want to tell him about what happened in the OR and thank him for pushing me to tell Burke. If I hadn't gone to Burke when I did but then gotten the page to Mrs. Patterson, who knows what I would have done. I probably would have confessed to a wrong doing that I didn't commit in front of the patient's family. Derek's advice saved my ass today. I can't tell him that exactly though, it would only make his ego grow and it's already so big it's like being married to two people. No, I'm going to need to tell him casually and nonchalantly, as if it's no big deal. I'm halfway across the bridge, in search of Derek, when my phone rings.
"Hello?" I answer, a little annoyed by the call getting in the way of me seeing my husband.
"Ms. Grey? This is Sheila from the nursing home, calling in regards to signing over your mother's care."
I listen as she explains what is needed for the meeting and I absent mindedly run my hands along the railing that I leaned against when I stopped. When Sheila is done explaining I find myself repeating everything she said, just to confirm, "And the notary can be there at 6:30 too? And the home's physician will be there attest to her mental competency. Okay, is there anything else I need to bring besides my license? My checkbook. 6:30, my husband and I will be there."
Just as I hang up, Derek slips in the minimal space between me and the railing. It's surprising that nobody other than our roommates and Cristina know about us being together, seeing as both of us have a tendency to ignore personal boundaries and be in each other's space.
"I heard," He says.
"6:30," I tell him, just to be sure, "For the notary with Ellis. C-can you drive?"
Derek smiles a little and leans forward, lowering his voice as he replies, "Of course I'll drive, we'll do this thing together" His tone changes to something lighter when he adds, "But that's not what I was talking about. I was talking about the heart thing. It appears that one of us gives great advice."
Sighing, I lean against the railing again, staring outside for a moment before I turn my head towards my husband, "I'd say thank you, but I really would like to go home with my husband tonight and not my husband and his massive ego."
He chuckles a little and settles himself against the railing, his back to the window giving him a great vantage point of the lower floor of the hospital. Glancing at me, Derek asks, "Do you want to talk about your mother?"
Instead of answering his question, I push myself off the railing and say, "We're adults. When did that happen?" I start walking away before turning around and adding, "And how do we make it stop?"
As we enter the nursing home, Derek suggests for the third time since leaving work, that we skip the party and spend the night at the Archfield Hotel. I brush off his suggestion because as nice as running away from our life for a night sounds, after signing overall responsibility of my mother to myself, I'm just going to want to curl up in my bed. Hopefully, the party will be winding down when Derek and I get home so we'll be able to just slip inside unnoticed. But before any of that can happen, we need to get through the paperwork with my mother.
Moments after we walk in the caretaker I spoke to this morning, who I have to assume is Sheila, walks up to us. "Sorry we're late," I say to her, "it was the traffic."
She rolls her eyes, used to me being inconsistent, and says matter of factly, "It doesn't matter, dear."
"Why," Derek asks, stepping up to my side, "Did the notary not show?"
"Oh, everybody's here.," The caretaker tells me, before looking over towards the couches, "It's just your mother isn't."
As soon as I look at my mother, I know she isn't there. Whenever she's forgotten, there's a look in her eyes that seems lost and right now it is as prominent as ever. Looking up at me, Ellis seems irritated. She asks what we want and I try to explain that she needs to sign the papers. I kneel down beside her and try to explain that she needs to sign the papers. She insists that she has a surgery and the only thing that grounds me is the comforting hand Derek places on my shoulder.
"Okay, Mom, we're all here," I say in a shaky voice, "We have a notary. I need you to focus and I need you to sign these papers," She squints and looks confused. I can practically see the gears in her head turning as her muddled mind tries to understand what is happening, "Mom, look at me."
Sheila complains, telling me I should have come earlier. I snap at her. I know I must seem like a terrible daughter, I've felt like one my entire life, but I don't need this caretaker scolding me for the fact that I had work to do and couldn't be next to my mother's side at all times.
When the caretaker tells me I need to come back tomorrow, I direct my anger towards her, "You know, why did she put this off for so long? And why did you let her? Doesn't it strike you as slightly irresponsible? I mean, what the hell is wrong with you people?" I storm out of the room. Leaving Derek behind to clean up my mess. I vaguely hear him apologize for me, blaming a long day, and say goodbye to my mother. He catches up to me in the parking lot and pulls me tight to his chest. I bury my face against him, and murmur something about going home. He agrees and leads me to the car.
We're silent the entire ride home and keep the radio off. The only sound is the constant thrum of the engine and the beating of the tires on the ground up until we're a few houses from our own. Throughout the ride I had been looking down, staring at my hands as if they're the most interesting thing on the planet. I know Derek wants to talk, but he doesn't push me and I'm really thankful for that. I look up as a pounding bass fills the car. For a second I think Derek turned the sound system on before I look up and see cars surrounding our house. People I don't recognize are streaming into our house and a taxi is pulling away from the curb, dropping off a group of people for the party.
Derek and I look at each other before saying in unison, "I'm going to kill Izzie."
Slowly, Derek pulls into the driveway, careful not to hit any of the drunk people wandering around the yard. I start climbing out of the car as he moves to unbuckle, but I stop him. He looks at me confused and I explain, "Der, the entire hospital is here. You can't go in there."
"I can't go into my own house?" He asks.
"Secret marriage, Derek. If you go in there everyone will know."
He argues why he should be allowed in, "I'm just a fellow co-worker invited to a party and decided to come, no big deal."
"Married attendings do not go to wild intern parties. It's like a rule or something."
He laughs a little, "Oh, is it?"
"Yes, it is," I say, climbing out of the car, "Now go drive around for a bit or something. I'll call you once I empty the house."
Rolling his eyes at me, Derek buckles himself back in and starts the car. I remind him that I love him and he chuckles a little and replies, "Yeah, yeah," as he pulls out of the driveway.
Everything seems to be in slow motion as I enter the house. I glance around and dozens of people I don't know are all over my space, dancing and drinking. My eyes scan around and I notice all of the pictures of Derek and I aren't in their places. My roommate might have thrown a wild party without my permission, but at least she made sure to hide incriminating evidence of my marriage. I spot George and as I start walking towards him, some guy I don't know bumps into me and hands me the Tiffany lamp Derek's aunt gave us for our engagement. I unplug it and make my way towards George, carrying the lamp with me.
"Where is Izzie," I angrily demand as soon as I'm next to George.
Shocked, George states rather than asks, "She didn't clear it with you."
"This was supposed to be a meet-the-boyfriend get together little thing," I yell, following George out of the kitchen and down the hall.
"Izzie has a lot of friends," George uses as an excuse.
I snap, "Izzie doesn't know this many people!"
George defends himself, "I told her to clear it with you."
"I can't handle this, George," I admit, "I just wanted to go to my room and go to sleep next to my husband but I can't because he can't be in here because the entire hospital is here!"
"You want me to kick everyone out?" George offers, "I'm going to kick everyone out."
I'm about to take George up on his offer and have every drunk person removed from my house when I spot Cristina. She's clearly drunk and having a good time as she stands on my coffee table, drinking and dancing. I stare at her for a moment, my jaw hanging open, before I decide to screw it. In exchange for the bottle of tequila George is holding, I hand him the Tiffany lamp. Laughing, I throw away any inhibitions and take a large gulp of the burning alcohol. Joining Cristina on the table, I start dancing and down another gulp of tequila. We both call George over and the next thing I know I'm drunk, happy, and dancing with my friends.
To be honest, I'm not sure how much time has passed but eventually George, Cristina, and I end up trying to play cards and sitting in the backroom, still drinking. It could be half an hour, it could be three hours, at this point I'm so drunk I've lost the concept of time. I think we're playing strip poker, especially since Cristina told George to take off his shirt, except I'm not sure if any of us are sober enough to fully understand the rules of poker. I'm not sure what's caused me to, but I'm ranting about surgery. Because surgery is stupid and I hate the fact that I love surgery. Whatever possessed me to become a surgeon must be some type of demon. Cristina rips my bottle of tequila from my hand, claiming that I'm too drunk, probably because I'm complaining about surgery. In an instant I'm taking my bottle back, there's no reason I can't get drunker than I already am, it's not like I'm on call or going anywhere, I'm already home anyway. I can drink as much as I want.
A confused looking tall blonde man I've never seen before wanders into the room and asks us, "Is, um, Izzie Stevens?"
Cristina says what we're all thinking, "Oh, you must be Hank."
Her boyfriend says something about not knowing there was going to be a party and I slur, "Which pisses both of us off."
Hank seems annoyed as he leaves the room. I call after him that it was nice to meet him. I don't think he's going to be getting ice like I asked him to. Pulling out my phone, I call Derek's number. He doesn't answer so I leave a voicemail.
I'm so drunk that I actually giggle as I say into the phone, "Hey there, Der," I snort when I realize, "Hey that rhymed. So," I draw out the word, my brain running slowly due to the copious amounts of alcohol I've consumed, "I assume you're still driving cause I never called you which I said I would but I didn't because I didn't clear out the party like I said I would but that's because I started drinking and dancing and this party thing I a lot of fun. Anyways Izzie's tall blonde hockey boyfriend isn't getting ice but Derek we need ice so could you bring ice when you come back we're running low and I mean what's a party without ice, right? There… there was something more I was going to say but I can't remember what anyways you're such a great husband and really dreamy I mean I still get giggly when I see you and it's been so long and thank you for the ice and," The voicemail beeps indicating that the message has been recorded but I keep talking for another five minutes at least, not realizing that it's me talking to nothing.
With Cristina out of the room, George and I talk for a little while. He ends up falling asleep, just in his underwear, the only clothing spared from our game of strip poker. Leaving him alone in the backroom, I grab a nearby bottle of tequila and make my way through the crowds. With all the people dancing, the loud music, and the limited amount of space, I find the house stifling. I end up stumbling outside where the music is the perfect volume for my slowly building tequila headache. I already know that my hangover is going to be bad, yet I find myself swaying a little on my front porch still taking an occasional sip of tequila.
"You know in some states you can get arrested for that," I hear Derek say.
Glancing up from my bottle my eyes fall on him. He's leaning against some random car parked in front of our house and smirking. In a happy space of inebriation, I can't stop myself from smiling at the sight of him. I start walking towards him, he always makes me happy and when I'm drunk I've always felt this intense magnetic pull to him. He smiles at me and gets up from the car, walking across the front lawn to me. It's probably a good thing that he meets me halfway because the line I'm walking is anything but straight and actually navigating to him probably would have been a challenge.
"So you blew me off for a bottle of tequila," He jests as he nears me, "Tequila's no good for ya. It doesn't call. It doesn't write. It isn't nearly as much fun to wake up to."
Our eyes meet and even though I didn't think it was possible, my smile seems to grow. I reach out a hand and grab one of his lapels and pull him close to me. Slowly we both lean into each other. Despite the party filled with hospital staff, despite the secret marriage, despite being on full display to anyone we know, we kiss. It's a slow and passionate kiss, our noses pressing together and our tongues seemingly dance. When I pulled my lips away from his we're both still grinning.
"Take me for a ride, Derek," I whisper.
It takes a little maneuvering and it's a little difficult due to my lack of coordination from the tequila, but Derek and I end up in the front seat of his car. He slides the driver's seat all the way back and I climb onto his lap, kissing the entire time. We're giggling as we kiss and touch and strip, I think both of us feel a little like teenagers. I can't remember the last time we had sex in a car and it feels fun a daring, like the start of our relationship. It's ridiculous that after five years of marriage we're both still this wild about each other.
When we finish, we're both still giggling. I'm only wearing my bra and his shirt and he's just in his boxers. We look like something out of a ten comedy and neither of us can stop laughing. He adjusts his shirt on me, pulling it up to my shoulders before running his hands through my hair and pushing it out of my face.
"You know, it sounds like the party's winding down," He says, I ignore him and lean forward, going to kiss his neck. He stops me and pushes my hair back again, before cupping my face. "Listen to me," He demands as he laughs, "We should probably sneak inside, though."
"We've done enough sneaking for the night. It was good sneaking, but enough sneaking," I reply.
He adjusts his shirt on me again and agrees, "Yeah, I'd say we're pretty good sneakers. But y'know, if we want to make it back to our bed we need to sneak a little more."
I roll my eyes but I know he has a point, our house is still crawling with hospital staff and if we have any hope of getting him up to the sanctuary of our bedroom we're going to need to sneak a little more. Smiling, knowing he's right, I lean in to kiss him again, one last time before we go inside. He's cupping my face like I'm the most precious thing in the world and I can't help but laugh, like I have been all night, because nobody has ever made me feel as loved as Derek does, even half naked after a quickie in his car.
Our happy bubble is broken by a knock on the driver's side window. We both turn to see a pissed off Bailey standing outside the car. "You mind moving this tail wagon? You're blocking me in."
"Apparently not good enough," Derek says as Bailey walks away. Ashamed, I brush my hair behind my ears. Out of everyone in the hospital, Bailey is the last person I would have picked to find out about my marriage this way. She's going to make my life living hell. Suddenly, I feel incredibly sober.
I sigh as I roll off of Derek and into the passenger seat, "Maybe you were right about going to the hotel."
He looks at me, a little amused, "Oh, now you admit I'm right?"