"Orange juice, huh? Playing it safe?"
Meredith smiled as she watched the barman place the glass down and fill it. "I don't want to be sorry in the morning, because tomorrow I start my second year of university."
He nodded, and handed her the drink.
"White rum." A man behind her requested.
She glanced round, only for her jaw to physically drop. He was...well, handsome to say the least. She swallowed, and closed her mouth.
Hot.
Hot.
"So...Is this a good place to hang out?" He asked as he waited for his drink.
It took her a long second to response because...well, hot. "I wouldn't know. I've never been here before."
"Oh- you know what, I haven't either. First time here."
She smiled awkwardly, and looked back to her drink. He was...well, hot, of course, that was the whole point, but that didn't mean she wanted to jump into bed with him. She was assuming that that was what he was after.
"You're ignoring me." He noted with a grin.
"Um...trying to." She admitted. She was hoping he would simply just get the message and either leave or, more likely, turn to the girl on the other side of him to flirt with her instead.
"You shouldn't ignore me."
"Why not?" She asked, surprised by how bold he was.
"Because it's rude." He said pointedly. "Get a drink in you, and maybe you'll lighten up."
She swallowed. That wasn't what she was expecting. He seemed like a teaser, so she was expecting a not-so-funny joke. Not that. "I don't want a drink."
"Of course you want a drink; you're in a bar." He insisted. "What's your poison?"
"I don't drink. I don't know."
"She looks like a gin kinda girl, doesn't she?" The man suggested to the bartender. "Get her a gin, on me."
The bartender looked between the pair for a good few seconds before turning around, pouring the drink, and then putting it next to her orange juice. "It's a free drink. Doesn't mean you have to marry the guy." He pointed out at a whisper that both of the pair could most definitely hear.
She stared at it for a long second before picking it up, and drinking it. Somehow, she didn't spit it out. "Oh- god."
He chuckled. "Not a fan? Maybe it's too mature of a taste. Get her a tequila. And a rum. Whatever type you think is kindest for someone lacking experience."
"Seriously, I'm okay. I have my orange juice." She insisted again.
He smirked. "C'mon. No one comes to a bar to drink orange juice and then leave alone."
"Except me. Because that's exactly what I plan on doing. So, if you excuse me, I'm going to take my orange juice and sit over there alone."
"So...obviously, the patients need entertainment. We don't bother keeping newspapers up to date (it would be far too expensive), but we like to rotate magazines through rooms and chuck in a few new ones every couple of days so that the patients who are here for a long time don't get bored of them."
Meredith nodded. "So when do I get to do the cool stuff?"
"You're an orderly, and it's your first day. I'm afraid there is no cool stuff."
"I'm a second year med student. I started last week."
"And that basically means you know nothing. It takes four years of university, then another five odd years of practical medicine to actually know anything. So I'm afraid being a second year medical student doesn't help you in any way."
"Right." She swallowed. She was hoping for a warm welcome, but maybe she was being too keen. "Well- I'll uh...go and do the papers then. Thank you."
She sped off, determined to be the best...newspaper switcher and newspaper deliverer that the hospital had ever seen. Of course, the problem was that she was a very small little thing. She couldn't hold a hundred papers and do it in one run, which mean she instead picked up as many she could carry, then had to run from room to room.
Until she wasn't running anymore.
"Woah, woah, woah! Slow down little missy!"
She took a second to process the fact that she had ran into someone before looking up at him. She hadn't ran into someone. She'd ran into the hot guy. Who wasn't hot, because he was an ass with a terrible personality. But still, hot.
"Oh. It's you." He breathed.
She swallowed. "Hi."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm an orderly." She answered defensively. She didn't know why she said it like that, as if it was her turf and no one else was allowed near it, seeing as she'd only been working for about half an hour, and only delivered about fourty newspapers. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm a resident."
She gulped. Definitely not her turf then. She should have noticed the scrubs. "Oh. Right."
She was about to move when he spoke again, his voice soft, "Can I talk to you?"
"Um...okay. But I have newspapers to deliver and I'm trying to set a record."
"I wanted to apologize about how I was acting at the bar. I've been thinking about it since, and I feel..." He sighed, and bit his lip as he shook his head. "I feel so bad. Honestly. I really shouldn't have been like that with you. You didn't want a drink and I pushed you and that was so, so wrong of me."
"It's okay." She replied, simply to be polite.
"No. No, it's really not okay. I don't treat people like that. Ever. I'm know as a nice guy and...it's just um-" He swallowed. "I had this patient and she was a mom of four. Her daughter was eight months pregnant and she was so excited about becoming a grandma but...she- she died on the table in my OR. I was just...I don't know, I think it was anger and that manifested as a shitty personality and then that's all you got from me and it really isn't who I am."
"Oh." Meredith breathed.
"And I know that that is not an excuse for the way I treated you. I know that I shouldn't have acted like that but...I really just...I couldn't-"
"It's okay, it's okay." She reassuredhim as emotion overtook him and he couldn't speak any longer. She placed her hand on his shoulder in comfort. "I promise. It's forgiven."
"Really?" He asked as a smile expanded on his face. "You'd really forgive me after how horrible I was?"
"Of course. We all make mistakes. Besides, I feel like I should be the one apologizing. I'm sorry that I made you feel so bad. I mean- I was the rude one, really? Wasn't I?"
"Oh, no. Don't say that. It wasn't your fault, really, it was mine."
"I should have given you benefit of the doubt, considered that you were having a bad day and not just shoved you away. Seriously, I am the one who is sorry. Please don't apologise to me."
He smiled. "You're so kind and thoughtful."
"I try, I suppose." She said with a shrug. "So...you're a resident?"
"Mmm. Yeah. Trauma. How about you- have you got an idea of what you'd like to do?"
"Well, a surgeon, first of all. I'm not so interested in the other parts of medicine. Cutting is coolest."
He smiled. "As a hopefully-soon-to-be professional trauma surgeon, I can confirm that cutting is the best. And speciality wise?"
"Well...kind of neurosurgery, but also not because everyone wants to be a neurosurgeon because it sounds the coolest and it makes me seem immature."
"It doesn't make you immature. Neuro is cool. Just not enough blood for me, you know? I enjoy the chaos. The...emergency, on the edge of life, bit. I mean, sure, neurosurgery has a lot of emergency cases-"
"Subdural, subarachnoid and epidural haematomas?" She suggested.
He smiled. "Very good. And they're interesting and emergent but there's nothing like having ten seconds until your patient bleeds out and saving them, you know."
She beamed. "Sounds amazing. Which...also sounds pretty weird."
"I could vouch for you if you wanted to come and watch some surgeries in the gallery if you want. Or maybe if you wanted to practice your stitches, or look at some CT or MRI scans?"
"Really?" She asked, eyes lighting up.
"Yeah. Of course. I assume you attend the uni that branches from this hospital?"
She nodded. "Mmm. But yeah- any chance to watch a surgery, even just one for ten minutes would be absolutely great."
"Cool. I'll see you around so I'll tell you when." He agreed. "Maybe you'll be...orderlying one of my patients."
"Yeah. Hopefully." She agreed earnestly. She'd completely misjudged this guy, and she felt horrible about that, still.
"Now, you said you were tryingto set a record, how about I go and get some papers and then deliver them here so you don't need to do as much walking."
"That would be cheating." She pointed out, as much as she wanted to accept his request. Her arms hurt.
"I've stopped you for at least five minutes, it's the least I could do."
"Yeah. I suppose." She shrugged.
"So?" He pushed.
She smiled. "That would be great. Thank you."
"And how about a drink as a thanks after work?" He suggested with his best prince-charming grin.
"I'll try not brush you off this time."
"That'd be nice." He agreed.
He smiled as she hurried off.
Today was a good day. An incredible day.
Because he'd just met the best girl.
The girl of his dreams, in fact.
Pretty. Beautiful. Intelligent. Ambitious. Thin. Small. Naïve. Young. Apologetic, even when he was the one in the wrong. In his debt. Vulnerable. Pliant. Docile.
Oh, she was such a perfect little thing.
"Mom, I-" A man started as he walked into the room, only to pause abruptly as he analysed it. "Meredith?"
She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't cry. She couldn't run. She couldn't hide. She couldn't do anything.
"Oh my god-" He stepped to her and engulfed her in a hug. "Oh, my MerMer."
She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't run. She couldn't hide. She couldn't do anything.
Her eyes clouded with tears.
He released her from the embrace, but placed his hands on her shoulders. "I can't believe it's really you, MerMer. What are you doing here?"
She couldn't move. She couldn't run. She couldn't hide. She couldn't do anything.
"Seattle." She breathed.
He smiled, and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, sweetie. We are in Seattle. That's right. Where'd you get these scrubs from, darling?"
"Meredith is a first-year intern here at Seattle Grace." Richard answered slowly.
"An intern?" He repeated. "MerMer, what did you tell these people? You never even finished university."
She shook her head, knowing she wouldn't manage any words.
"I'm so sorry about this." He apologized as he brushed his hand over her shoulder again and again. "She really isn't well. It isn't her fault that she's like this. Truly. Meredith, sweetie, it's okay."
"What do you mean...isn't well?"
"Her sense of reality isn't right. She lies because she doesn't understand what's real and what's not. But I'm real, and I'm here. And it's going to be okay. I've got you MerMer." He reassured, looking at her in the eye before glancing back to Richard, seeing as he was the only one who was speaking. "It's part of her schizophrenia."
She couldn't move. She couldn't run. She couldn't hide. She couldn't do anything.
"But I'll take you back to Baltimore and look after you this time, I promise. I'm sorry I didn't look after you enough before, when your symptoms were first starting to show. But this time- this time I'll do whatever you need to get well, okay? Any drugs, any treatment any...anything. Anything at all for you." He reassured her, his voice so genuine and vulnerable it could crack any second. "And then...if you get better, we can try again. You remember how good it was before you got sick? How much we loved each other? How much you loved me and I loved you and how happy we were? We could start again. We could go slow or fast or whatever you want. Start the family we wanted, renew our vows and-"
That was enough to get Derek to speak. "Vows?"
He looked up, surprised by the man's tone before explaining, "MerMer is my wife."
Wife. Wife as in the female partner in a marriage. Marriage as in two people saying they will love each other and getting connected legally and religiously. Marriage as in the thing where you are committed to your partner for the rest of your life. Marriage as in you don't move across the country and start a new life with a new boyfriend.
That was enough for her. She could move and she could run and she could hide. And she did all three of those things.
Derek didn't know where she was.
Had she ran away in the hope of leaving the floor? The hospital? The area? The region? The county? The state? The country? The continent? The world?
Derek didn't know.
Apparently, he didn't know a lot of things.
Eventually, he met the intern locker room. It was empty, but the slightly ajar door to the bathroom and showers caught his eye.
"Meredith?" He called out, pushing himself through the room. "Meredith, are you-"
Oh. God.
He wanted to find her. He really, really did. But he'd take anything over this.
He'd take never seeing her again.
He'd take losing the ability to walk if he hadn't already.
He'd even take her getting hit by a car outside the hospital by accident.
Because somehow, there was something worse than that.
"Meredith?" He begged as his eyes instantaneously wet with tears. "Meredith. You've got to stop."
She didn't look up.
He didn't know why. He didn't know if she didn't stop because she was just ignoring him, or if she couldn't hear him, but she didn't even falter with what she was doing.
"Meredith. Please." He begged through a sob. "Please."
She would never respond; she couldn't sense a thing.
Not the ice-cold temperature of the shower. Not the feeling of her wet socks. Not the feeling of water pelting her head. Not the feeling of her trousers starting to stick to her. Not the sound of herself sobbing. Not the sound of the shower against the floor. Not the sound of his broken, pleading voice. Not the feeling of pain as she scrubbed every inch of her skin that he had touched so viciously that she was cleaning herself with more blood than water.
She had no idea she was doing it.
So she just kept going and going and going and going and going.