Meredith followed Richard up the stairs from the nurses station, then through a long corridor, then across the catwalk.
Throughout the whole walk, there were two security guards following them. She couldn't help but feel like she was being escorted to prison opposed to just the Chief's office in her place of work.
She didn't think there was anything he could do to her. She couldn't be suspended for having an argument. Maybe she could be given a pile of scut, but she was pretty sure that she couldn't get any real punishment for an arguement. Or, at least, she was really hoping that there wasn't any real punishment that could be given.
He stepped into the room first, but waited for her to enter before moving. She did so, and he shut the door behind her before moving to his desk and sitting down.
Neither of them spoke for a long second. He didn't know what to say. He supposed he had to tell her off for having a loud argument in the hospital and causing a scene, but that wasn't what was at the front of his mind right now.
He'd known Meredith...well, forever. Before she was even born. From the one-year gap and transfer in her application, it was obvious that something had happened at that time, but if Dartmouth had deemed her extraordinary circumstances enough for her to get let in there, he saw no reason for him to push her. Now, he wished that he had.
He knew Ellis was diagnosed around that time, and had always wondered if that was somehow linked, but he was evidently wrong. He supposed it was a possibility that she was more vulnerable around that time because of her mother's situation though.
"Look, I um-" He paused to swallow. This was a lot. "I don't like to pry into personal matters but-"
"I understand, Chief." She agreed truthfully. The second she chose to scream and shout at the man in front of everyone, she was setting herself up for this chat. She was also setting herself up for some very awkward conversations and interactions with her friends, along with the entire hospital staff. She supposed straight facts were better than rumours though. "There was a uh...that was a lot. I mean- I said a lot and I'm not sure how much you heard but...yeah."
"I think I was there for most of it. And I should of stepped in sooner, Meredith. I apologize."
"No. It's okay. I wanted to, you know, get it out. I followed him to...I mean, I didn't want to scream at him in front of the whole hospital or anything, but I did follow him to confront him."
"It's a brave thing to do."
"I'd say it was more stupid than brave but...thanks, I suppose."
He smiled a little for just a second before pondering, "Do you need a second?"
"Oh. No. I think I'm okay." She dismissed. She suddenly became overly aware of the fact that she was standing and he wasn't, and pulled out the chair opposite his desk before sitting on it. "Where um- where did you want to start?"
"You and Derek Shepherd?" He suggested.
Meredith Grey knew she'd hate it. The second she hit the door frame and registered the pain, her mind jumped to broken bones, and she was begging that she didn't have any. Often, unless the bone was displaced, you simply taped it to the next one over and went on with your life with a slight limp for a few weeks. But, of course, she just had to go and break two of them, which meant that her...well, it meant that Derek recommended a stupid boot.
She sighed as she tightened each strap before getting out of bed, and walking into the kitchen.
"It's pancakes with lemon stuff for breakfast." He said, remembering what she had said all that time ago.
She smiled. "Thanks. I'm starving."
"Is the pain when walking any better than yesterday?" He asked, seeing as she had just tried, although it was probably only ten odd steps.
"It seems to hurt more with the boot, but I don't think that's how it's supposed to work."
His brow creased, and he moved to her. He slid two fingers down the top of her boot with ease. He muttered to himself, then pulled the velcro off and repositioned it so it would hug her leg a little tighter. He repeated the test, and just about managed to get them in. "Better?"
"Yeah." She said with a smile. "Now, more importantly, how is your pain?"
"My pain?"
"Remember, you were recovering from acute kidney failure and a transplant and a fever and liver inflammation and oedema and stuff? You know, some pretty significant ailments."
"I feel fine."
"Are you sure?"
"I have the best medicine for all of those things; I'm fine."
"Yeah, I know, we're very fortunate to live in a developed country but-" She paused from the look on his face. "What?"
"I was trying to be cute, and you ruined it."
"You were- oh!" She exclaimed as she realised what he was really implying. Then she smiled. "You're my best medicine too."
He shook his head and sighed at her, before placing a pancake on the plate.
She smiled. They were always so perfect. Not a sloppy mess, but not burnt either. They were thick, but not in the way that left the middle uncooked. She had no idea how he did it, but she couldn't find something to critique about them if she tried . "So...how long have you been in love with me then?"
He felt heat flood his cheeks. "Not uh- what I was expecting you to ask at breakfast."
"Well?" She pushed.
"Um...when did you start to like me?"
"Oh, no. I'm not telling you until you tell me. I asked first. That's the rule."
He smiled. That reminded him of his sisters. Siblings always had to employ those kind of rules. "What if I give you the wrong answer?"
"I'm not sure there is a wrong answer, is there?"
"What if you started liking me when you first saw me and I only started two days ago?"
"Did you?" She pushed, intrigued.
"The um-" He swallowed. "When you drove me home and I said I had a show to watch and you said me too and-" He sighed. "I remember thinking...well, crap."
"Crap?" She repeated. She was pretty sure that wasn't a word she'd associate with love.
"I decided I didn't want a girlfriend, remember? And there you were, all...well, all Meredithy."
"Meredithy?" She repeated.
"The uh- summary word for all your...features. Physical and personality-wise."
She smiled. It was a little bit like the term McDreamy. "So...you said you didn't want a girlfriend-"
"Right." He agreed.
"So...who am I?"
"You can- I mean, if you want to-" He paused when he felt himself go red again. Why was he like this? "You can tell me what you want to be or- I guess I-"
"I like girlfriend."
He smiled. "Then, girlfriend it is."
"Yeah. Um- we're together, girlfriend and boyfriend. We've been dating for um...quite a while now. Few months. And I know that's against protocol, but-" She sighed. "I don't know. I don't really have an excuse, and neither does he. But please don't tell him off."
"And you're happy?"
She faltered. "What?"
"He's happy, and you're happy?" He expanded further. He wasn't surprised by her confusion.
"Um...yeah. We are. It's a little complicated now with- you know, what you heard outside but we're doing okay. He's very supportive...of, well, literally everything I do."
He smiled. "Okay then."
Okay then? She'd broken protocol by not reporting their relationship, and broken a social rule by sleeping with an attending. And all he had to say was 'okay then'?
"And this man- Ethan Copperstein. He's...your husband."
"In name."
"That's what I assumed. You-" He sighed. "Look, Meredith you said an awful lot of things-"
"And they are all true." She confirmed. She swallowed, knowing she'd need it. She had, however, noticed that it was easier to talk about after Derek. "We met in my second year of university, and we got married about a month into my third. He started off nice, but once I had moved in with him, he changed."
"Meredith-"
She ignored the tears in her eyes. "He abused me. Physically and mentally. I got married because I couldn't escape from him. On my wedding day, he was angry with me and pushed me down a flight of stairs. I was pregnant at the time, and I lost the baby. I named him Sebastian, and kept it despite the fact that he didn't like it. I...I think I kept it because he disliked it, actually."
"Meredith?" A low voice called. "Meredith? Can you hear me? It's Dr Holton."
"Sir?" She groaned to the only thing that was breaking through her painful tinitus.
"I'm afraid not. You're in hospital, not in class." He admitted regretfully. He wished he was just waking up a sleeping student from class. He really, really did. "You fell down some stairs. Do you remember that, Meredith?"
She stared at him for a second. Yes. She did, actually. And- " Sebastian. Wh- where's my baby? My- my baby-"
"We had to deliver him, Meredith." He explained in a soft, slow voice. "It wasn't a C-section, but it was heavily induced."
She smiled. She couldn't help it. Sebastian was here. In the real world. She could touch him and hug him and feed him. "He...he's here? He's- you- when can I see him? I need to see him."
Aaron swallowed, and looked to his colleague. "Meredith-" He sighed.
"No." She breathed, knowing what the scared glance meant. This wasn't happening. This. Was. Not. Happening. Sebastian was the one thing she had. The one singular thing she had left. Ethan had stripped her life away. But she had Sebastian.
"In the fall, you-"
She didn't remember the next ten or so seconds. She remembered screaming and fighting and crying and hearing her heart rate shoot up on the montior. She remembered Aaron holding her down, and telling her she had to stay still because of her injuries. As if she cared about her injuries. As if she cared about herself at all anymore. She remembered him calling for help. She remember an oxygen mask being held to her mouth, and then dropping back onto her pillow like a limp ragsoll as one of the doctors pushed enough of some drug to sedate her to unconsciousness.
"I went through rehab for my injuries, I went to therapy for both what he did to me, and the loss of my son. And Aaron Holton-"
He was glad that she had something like that for him to catch onto. He wasn't sure what to say to the rest of it. "The interim head of cardio?"
"Meredith." He named as he sat on the side of her bed.
She was supposedly reading her neurology textbook, but she'd been staring at the same page for about twenty minutes. In fact, she had been staring at the same picture for that entire time.
"Meredith-" He sighed. "You in there?"
She swallowed, and looked up. "I don't think so." She confessed honestly.
"I need to talk to you about something."
"Okay." She breathed, worried. She wasn't sure why. What else did she have to lose?
"I've come up with a...plan. And you can tell me what you think."
She nodded, but didn't speak.
"So...I think you should drop out of university."
That didn't elicit any response. Not a word or a nod nor shake of the head.
He swallowed. He was so ready for her to react. She'd been so extremely empty for the six days that she'd been in hospital, but he was expecting at least something from that. "Take the rest of the year to recover, and- I mean, I know you can't get over the death of anyone nevermind...just- take the year to process your grief and recover from your physical injuries. After that, you can go back to university...maybe Dartmouth?"
"Dartmouth?" She repeated. That was enough to get her to speak.
"Me and my wife are moving to New Hampshire, and our house has four rooms because we're hoping to have kids, but unless she's currently pregnant with triplets, we're going to have a lot of guest rooms. And I want you to have one."
"I...can't."
"Why not?" He pressed. "The university is understanding, but they can't just let you skip a year. And you can't stay here because one, this is where Ethan is, and two, you don't have any money anymore."
She nodded. She couldn't do anything else.
"So you come with us to New Hampshire, stay in our guest room, get a little job, and then...maybe you want to apply to do your third year in Dartmouth next year?" He summerized. "You can even pay us twenty dollars or something every month once you're recovered enough to get a little job if you really feel that bad."
"Well-" Tears dripped from her eyes. "It's not like I've got any other option anymore."
"He was my professor at Hopkins in second year. He noticed signs that...things weren't right at home. He confronted me multiple times, and I pushed him away every time. He felt bad, and he offered me a guest room in his new house in New Hampshire." She explained. "I had no money, no house, no job, no education, no family and no friends because he forced me to distance myself from them, so I said yes. I stayed there for a few months, got a temp job, then applied to Dartmouth. Aaron was the one who explained my extraordinary circumstances, and they accepted me. I haven't seen Ethan since my wedding day, and he wasn't supposed to know where I was."
Richard couldn't say anything to that. A few tears had fell during her explanation, sure, but she'd manged to keep her voice composed while she explained the ins and out of what had happened to her. The horrific, heart-shattering things that had happened to her.
"And he learnt that calling me crazy meant that if I ever tried to tell someone - even someone on 'my' side - they wouldn't believe me. He'd say it was my disorder, and that they shouldn't listen to me. But I promise, I'm not schizophrenic. You can get psych to test me if you want."
He nodded. He still had no words.
"I know it's a lot. Um- Derek took a while to absorb it too. I imagine it's a lot for anyone."
"It sounds like it was a lot for you, Meredith."
"I promise you, I am-" She paused when his pager went off. After a second, she suggested, "9-1-1?"
"It's a Code Orange. Staff member in danger or inju-" He paused when the message changed.
"What?" She pressed. "What happened?"
He swallowed, and looked up at her. "I think you better come with me."
Meredith Grey had never seen Mark Sloan cry. He was always so- well, not emotionless, but he always seemed to be on the brighter, happier side of the spectrum. Some other attendings and residents slipped some of their emotions into their professional lives, but Mark never did that. He was always happy, and especially happy after a night with a nurse.
Currently, he wasn't crying, but his eyes had a watery sheen to them.
"Chief-" He named as he approached, Meredith tagging behind him.
"The page said-"
"Derek." Mark finished for him. He knew what the page said. And he really freaking wished it didn't. "He's um- I think he's okay. Just about."
Meredith felt her heart rate slow at that reassurance. Derek was okay, just about. She had no idea what that meant, but it at least meant he wasn't on the edge of life and death. She stepped towards the trauma room door, only to be stopped by Mark as he stepped in front of her.
She had the same shiny eyes as she spoke, "He's probably scared. I just want to hold his hand. Please."
"No." He refused, his voice giving her no hint that he might budge.
Mark-" Webber pleaded, hoping to advocate for Meredith.
"You're not going in there."
"I'm sure she just wants to check he's okay for herself."
"He wouldn't be here is it wasn't for you!" Mark returned at a much louder volume than the one he was speaking at before. He couldn't help it.
"Mark, I've heard what happened to Meredith, and you can't blame her for-"
"I'm not blaming her for that. I'm not a freaking monster." He dismissed. "I'm blaming her for screaming at that man infront of everyone! Why do you think he got so angry that he tried to beat Derek to death? He's clearly got a...pre-disposition for violence, sure, but if you had just stayed away and let him be, this wouldn't have happened at all! And if you had stayed at home like Derek wanted you too and like you should have, then this definitely wouldn't have happened!"
"You're angry, Mark, I get that. But Meredith-"
"I don't care. Meredith is not family. I am his family. I am his next of kin, and I say she's not allowed in here!" He exclaimed. "So leave."
"Mark, please, you-" Richard attempted again.
"It's okay Chief-" Meredith sighed. "I'm going."