Opens box of shame. Drops chapter. Crawls back into box of shame.
Anyways: Enjoy! (P.S. When you're confused just reread from the beginning)
Chapter 18 – Bathroom
Derek cleaned his razor in the sink of the en-suite bathroom. He drained the water, making sure that his tiny beard hairs went down the drain. He wasn't quite awake yet. It was just before five in the morning. He placed his razor in the holder next to his shaving brush.
His shaving routine was traditional. He had fond memories of four-year-old Derek standing on a stool next to his dad every morning as he got ready for work. His dad would always put some of his shaving soap on little Derek's face so that he could pretend to get ready with him. His dad had never gotten the chance to teach him when the time had come but Derek had stuck to the routine he had seen so many times. Every morning when he saw himself in the mirror with the white foam beard he thought of him.
He turned on the shower and gave the water some time to heat up while he stripped out of his pajamas. He stepped into the hot water.
On workdays, he mentally ran through the day's schedule and surgeries as he went through his shower routine.
Meredith's face appeared between the shower curtain and the wall. "Morning," she smiled tiredly.
"Good morning," Derek leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.
"You're getting me all wet and soapy," she protested.
"That's kind of the point of a shower. You could join me," Derek replied with a suggestive grin.
"I don't want to shower right now," Meredith closed the curtain again.
"How long have you been up?" he asked as he rinsed out the conditioner.
"I don't know. Hour, hour and a half. I couldn't sleep," she closed the toilet lid and sat down, hugging her right knee into her chest and resting her chin on it.
"This seems to be a recurring theme," he commented before turning off the water.
"I wish it wasn't."
"Me too," Derek pulled back the curtain, grabbing the towel he had laid out earlier, and wrapped it around his waist, "I honestly assumed you were still asleep when my alarm went off. But then I caught my foot in a pair of jeans on my way to the bathroom, I ran into the dresser, stubbed my toe and when my loud cursing didn't wake you up, I got a little suspicious."
"I was wondering what that noise was," Meredith laughed.
"Hey! You could at least pretend to care," Derek grinned, stepping out onto the bath mat and grabbing another towel to dry his hair. "I could have seriously hurt myself."
"Well, did you?" Meredith asked.
"No, but our bedroom floor is a health hazard," he stated while applying deodorant.
"And who's responsible for that?" Meredith challenged with an amused expression, "Who threw all our clothes on the floor last night? If I remember correctly it's always your dirty laundry that never actually makes it into the hamper and instead stays on the floor until I give in and finish the job. Which is funny because you never have any trouble finishing."
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Derek feigned innocence as he applied aftershave to his cheeks.
"Oh, you know what I'm talking about."
"That's a bit rich coming from you, don't you think? How many dirty cups, glasses or tumblers would I find in random places if I went looking right now?" Derek ventured.
"None."
"None?!" Derek raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Yes, we ran out of cups."
"You emptied and loaded the dishwasher without being forced to?"
"Yes. I also put in a load of laundry and folded all my clean clothes. We all do things we don't want to do," Meredith shrugged.
"I know it might seem ridiculous but you could've just stayed in bed and slept like any sensible person would do at that time of night," Derek suggested.
"That's a very good suggestion, thank you for bringing it to my attention. I actually considered it, but my brain had other plans," Meredith looked exhausted, she had been tossing and turning for hours, fighting off nightmares and spiraling thoughts.
"It's all a bit much right now."
"Tell me about it," Meredith fidgeted with the soft fabric of her sweatpants, staring into nothingness.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Derek asked carefully.
"I don't know."
"That's okay," he smiled sympathetically at her.
"I'm just so exhausted, Derek," she sighed frustratedly. "Physically and mentally. I want to be in control of my life again. I don't like not being in control. I'm a mess. I can't sleep. I can't run."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No. I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me. You have enough on your plate without …"
"Mer," he interrupted. "I'm asking because I want to. You know you're not alone. You can talk to me. If you don't want to that's fine, too."
"I hate this."
"I know," Derek looked at her understandingly. "Come here." He opened his arms for a hug. Meredith pushed herself off the toilet seat with an audible wince and moved into Derek's waiting arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around her.
"I really hate all of this," she murmured into his chest.
"I know," Derek rested his chin on her head. They stayed like that for a while "I hate to burst our bubble, but I have to get dressed. Let's move this party into the bedroom."
"But I like you like this."
Derek laughed. "I think other people would find this choice of outfit a little offensive." He opened the bathroom door and turned on the bedroom light, illuminating the mess on the floor.
"Fine," Meredith followed him limping into the bedroom. With a wince, she let herself fall onto his side of the bed, stretched both of her legs out in front of her, and leaned against the headboard.
"Mer … I know you don't want to hear it, but I think you should see a doctor about that knee sooner rather than later," he grabbed a pair of socks from the dresser.
"Mhm," Meredith grumbled dismissively running her hands over her face.
"Just see your primary care physician and go from there."
"I don't have one."
"You don't have a PCP?" Derek asked, poking his head out of the walk-in closet.
"I don't have a single doctor in Seattle. Do you?"
"Oh," he thought about it for a second, "… no."
"See."
"We should probably find one," he exited the closet and laid his clothes out on the bed.
"That's what I'm saying. I'm kind of at a loss here."
"Then again, we are two doctors."
"True, although I don't plan on ever needing your services," Meredith joked.
"What? I would give you the best deal, even if you were out of network," Derek teased pulling on his slacks.
"Thanks, but I think I'll pass. I'm more in the market for a general practitioner, you know the 'boring' but important stuff."
"I've never been a fan of the boring stuff."
"Me neither. I have the utmost respect for anyone who chooses to go into family medicine."
"Oh yeah," Derek buttoned his shirt. "So what are we going to do?"
"You won't believe it, but I actually tried making an appointment yesterday."
"Why didn't you say so?" Derek asked.
"Emphasis is on tried. The earliest they could offer me was four weeks from now."
"So you took it, right?"
"No," she shrugged. "I gave up and postponed the decision to a later date."
"Meredith," he scolded. "You're a doctor and a runner and you can't make it from the bathroom to the bedroom without groaning. You can't just push through."
"I don't have the energy to fight for an earlier appointment and you never know, maybe it'll be fine next week."
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Of course not! But what am I supposed to do?" Meredith threw her hands in the air.
"You do remember that I work in a hospital system with other doctors, some of whom being orthopedic specialists?" Derek asked, rummaging through the worn clothes on the armchair.
Her only response was an unamused look. "So, what are you going to do?"
"I have no idea," Meredith exhaled loudly, "Can I help you?"
"Have you seen my belt?"
"Which one?"
"You know the one that goes with the shoes."
"Could you be a little more specific? Every single belt you own goes with a different pair of shoes. But it's where it belongs – in the drawer with the other belts."
"I thought I left it out here," Derek went to get his particular leather belt from the closet.
"You did, but I reunited it with its friends the last time I cleaned up this mess."
"Thank you," he came over to the bed and gave her a quick kiss: "What would I do without you?"
"Drown in your laundry and never find anything," she replied sheepishly.
"Probably," he laughed, "How were drinks with Cristina?"
"It was fine I guess," Meredith shrugged. "The whole Seattle Grace intern class joined us."
"You don't seem to be too thrilled about it."
"They kept trying to get information out of me that I'm not ready to give – especially yesterday. And to be honest, I wasn't in the right headspace to be around so many people."
"For that you stayed surprisingly long."
"I didn't want to be alone either," Meredith pulled the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands.
"I'm sorry. I wish I could've been here with you. The Chief needed this urgent budget adjustment ASAP. He came by twice just to check if I was done already," Derek sat down at the foot of the bed to pull on his socks.
"No need to apologize – it's fine," Meredith forced a small smile. Her eyes were once again focused on nothing in particular in the room as her fingers played nervously with the sleeves of her sweater. She began to chew on her lip. Her gaze became more and more glassy. He watched as she struggled to decide whether or not to show her true feelings. "Apparently … he's an amazing dad. He went to school plays and ballet recitals." A single tear ran down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with her sleeve. "He just didn't want to be my dad," her voice broke. "… he just didn't want to be my dad," she whispered, more tears running down her face.
"Oh, Mer," Derek was next to her in an instant, his arms wrapped around her shaking torso. His heart broke for her. He had never seen her so sad.
"I was only five," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I was a child. A blank piece of paper." Derek didn't know what to say – there was nothing he could say that would comfort her, he just held her closer. He ran his fingers over her back. Giving her all the time she needed to process yesterday's discoveries.
He didn't know all the details – but he knew she would share when she was ready. Meredith had mostly dealt her childhood trauma by on her own until she came to him to talk about it. Everyone had different coping mechanisms and she needed time to process the slowly building puzzle that was her early childhood. He knew that the running – even if he thought the mileage was crazy – had kept her from breaking down. Now that she was injured, she was struggling to sort out the many thoughts, worries, and feelings in her head. As she cried into his shoulder, he could only imagine what a gut punch yesterday must have been.
"I was just a kid," she broke the silence after a while. "He dropped me like a hot potato and moved on to a new family," Meredith pulled away from his tight embrace to look at him. Her eyes were red and swollen. His hands never left hers. "What kind of person does that?" she wiped her cheeks. Derek wasn't sure if she was expecting an answer or not, but then she continued: "I don't know what I was thinking but I wasn't expecting this. When I allowed myself to wonder, I always pictured an awkward middle-aged divorcee who had never wanted a family in the first place. I thought that's why he had signed over custody to my mother. But no," she shook her head, "he already had a new family lined up when he left."
"Hang on! He did what?!" Derek questioned, getting really angry at the man he had never met. "He signed over custody to Ellis?"
"Yep. I found the paperwork amongst my mother's documents," she looked at him with unhappy eyes.
"He sounds like a real idiot," Derek stated.
"Yeah … he does," Meredith chuckled humorlessly. "And I'm here spilling tears over this man."
"That's okay. A good cry never hurt anyone," he pulled her closer again and planted a kiss on her head. She snuggled into his embrace. "I don't know how you are still here. I would've run a long time ago," Derek whispered into her hair.
"Oh, I thought about it. More than once," she confessed. "And I did run already and then I fell in love with this guy. And now I don't know how I would function without him."
Derek was a little stunned by her confession. He hugged her tighter. "I too would be a miserable heap of misery."
"A miserable heap of misery?" Meredith chuckled.
"Yes. Are you feeling better?"
"Yes, I think I'll make it through the day without another breakdown. Thank you," Meredith joked and found his soft lips to give him a tender kiss.
"Good. I'm glad," he smiled. "I'll pencil in another freak-out session for tonight then."
"Haha, very funny," Meredith rolled her eyes. "I'll hop in the shower after all and meet you downstairs."
xxx
"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" Derek asked again, handing her the tea he had made her.
"Thank you, I'm good. I'm not hungry," Meredith replied, her attention already back on the screen of her laptop, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She sat at the kitchen table. Derek pulled out a chair and sat across from her with his freshly cooked spinach omelet.
"You should eat something," he said as he opened today's newspaper.
"I will. I'm sure they have a coffee shop on campus. I'll get something there," she continued typing.
"What's so important that you have to write emails at 5.50 in the morning?"
"Well, yesterday my boyfriend and his ex-wife gifted me a time-critical consult. So I'm in a bit of a time crunch," she shot him a look over the edge of her laptop.
"How time-sensitive exactly?"
"There's generally a 20-day window to do the surgery. Surgery can't be later than 25 weeks 6 days. Usually, we have three weeks from diagnosis until we enter that window to thoroughly test both mom and baby, have all the necessary meetings, and get a team together. We have less than two and they need to travel," she explained as she typed. "And you're leaving in ten minutes, hence why I'm finishing it now – and I'm done," she pushed herself off the bench.
"What do I have to do with this?"
"Oh, you're the courier," Meredith limped out of the kitchen and into the office to collect the printouts. She hobbled back with a pile of papers and a folder. "Since I have teaching obligations this morning I'm entrusting you with delivering this to your ex-wife."
"When did you do all this?"
"Earlier."
"Earlier?" he questioned.
"After I had emptied and reloaded the dishwasher, started a load of laundry, and before I folded the clean one. You know, when my good friend insomnia came to visit," she rolled her eyes and went through the documents standing at the kitchen table, only putting weight on her right leg. "Do you have a pen for me?" Derek handed her a pen. "Thanks." She signed at the bottom of the page. She slid everything into the folder and handed it to him: "Everything she needs to know is in here. I have emailed my contact in Philadelphia and reached out to some facilities closer to Seattle. I have also emailed Addison with all the info and a way to contact me."
"Anything else?" Derek stood up to put his plate in the dishwasher.
"I'll be done at U-Dub around 12-ish. If she wants to talk this over, she can call me after but not before that," she told him.
"Okay," he wrapped his wool scarf around his neck. "I'm very impressed that you managed to pull all this together in less than twelve hours."
"You haven't seen half of it," Meredith joked, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his chest, looking up at his face. "Will I be seeing you tonight?"
"Why wouldn't you?" Derek asked, pulling her a little closer with his hands on her butt.
"Your surprise guest. I don't know – maybe she expects entertainment tonight."
"Oh shit, Nancy! I forgot she was coming," Derek groaned. "I'll have to play it by ear, but I will definitely be home tonight. Can't promise how late though."
"That's okay. Maybe we'll run into each other at the hospital," she joked.
"If we do, I'll send you some dirty looks," Derek laughed.
"I can't wait," she grinned. "Nothing like a little dirty secret hospital flirting."
"Exactly," he wiggled his eyebrows. "You'll have some fun torturing some students today, Professor Grey."
"Not a professor," Meredith rolled her eyes. "More like Clinical Instructor Grey. I don't have enough 'experience' to be an assistant professor yet. I mean I've only been teaching at a university for close to seven years and am in the process of writing my habilitation. But hey who is counting?" she sighed. "And I don't torture my students, I enrich their minds with knowledge and enthusiasm."
"I've seen your materials," he raised his eyebrows.
"It's not supposed to be easy. I have high standards. Besides, I have never had anyone complain that my exams were unfair or undoable."
He laughed. "I love you," he leaned down to kiss her gently.
"I love you too."
At that moment, George entered the kitchen and made a disapproving noise when he saw them together. Meredith rolled her eyes.
Last night at Joe's he had kept his distance, giving her angry and disappointed looks whenever he had the chance. It had frustrated her, but she had not found the mental energy to talk to him then.
"Good morning O'Malley," "Morning George," Derek and Meredith greeted at the same time.
"Morning," George replied grumpily, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
Derek shot Meredith a confused look. She just rolled her eyes and signaled for him to leave.
"I'm off. See you tonight," he put on his coat, grabbed his briefcase and car keys, and exited the kitchen.
"Don't forget the …," Meredith picked up the folder and handed it to him.
"Oh yeah, thanks," he gave her another quick kiss, "have a good day."
"You too," Meredith loved that after such a short time together it already felt so normal and effortless. It was just easy, she didn't have to hide who she was and she never had to pretend to be happy when she wasn't. Her life was pretty grey at the moment. But it had gotten better with time. Yesterday another big black cloud had cast a dark shadow. Derek and the semi-regular phone calls with her Munich people were the only real rays of light at times like this. After such a heavy night, she really needed that light.
She watched him leave the kitchen, heard the laundry room door open and close, then the garage door, and listened as he drove off.
George had watched the whole interaction from the kitchen island, eyeing them suspiciously. He shook his head and made another disapproving noise.
Meredith let out a breath, leaned against the kitchen table, and crossed her arms in front of her chest: "Spit it out, George."
"What?" he asked a little defensively, getting his oatmeal ready.
"You obviously have a problem with us being together. So spit it out."
"I don't have a problem with you or Dr. Shepherd," George said a little too quickly.
Meredith looked at him in disbelief: "Since you found out, you have refused to talk to me, interact with me, and keep glaring at me. So you clearly have a problem."
"I can't tell you what I think. He's my boss and you're my landlady."
"I'm also your friend. I'd rather clear the air than have you kill me with your glares or make disapproving noises whenever you see me," Meredith clarified, sitting back down on the bench. "So just spit it out." She watched him consider her statement for a while. "I promise you won't be homeless tonight."
"I never pegged you as the type of woman to give up her job for a guy. Apparently, I was wrong. Very wrong … I thought you were smart and wouldn't make career decisions based on the guy you're currently dating. You do know that he is married, right? I don't understand women," he told her with a disappointed look on his face as he put his oatmeal in the microwave. Before Meredith had a chance to reply he continued: "Residency is hard. We all struggle. We all have our ups and downs. And we keep going. So what if you started off on the wrong foot, so what if you failed that one test? So what if Bailey doesn't like you? So what! Residency is a marathon, not a sprint. Intern year is just the beginning, you could've caught up at any moment. Instead, you just quit."
"So this is what you think?" Meredith asked, "That I quit the program because residency got too hard and I caught myself a hotshot neurosurgeon?"
"Why else would you just throw in the towel?" George questioned.
"I didn't throw the towel. I just resigned from the program. Why is everyone so concerned with the fact that I quit? Why does everyone think that I quit without a plan? Do I really seem like such an impulsive person?" Meredith asked.
"I mean …"
"What?"
"Nothing," George chuckled, getting his oatmeal out of the microwave. "So, if you didn't throw the towel what are you doing all day long?"
"I work as an attending anesthesiologist for the biggest aneth…" Meredith started to explain but was soon interrupted by a loud bang.
George had stopped dead in his tracks halfway in between the kitchen island and the kitchen table and dropped his bowl, spilling the hot contents all over his hand. "Ouch! That's hot," he cried, running to sink to run his hand under cold water.
"You okay there?" she jumped up, instantly regretting it.
"Yeah, I'm fine. You can't just drop info like that," George told her from the sink. "Thanks for asking though."
"You asked, I answered," Meredith limped over to him. George inspected his burned hand. "Keep that hand under running water!"
"I know how to take care of a burn. Besides it's not that bad."
"You say that now," Meredith got some kitchen roll and started to clean up the mess off the floor. The whole kitchen was covered in sticky oats and shards of ceramic shards.
"Okay, let's try this again," he turned off the faucet got a new bowl, and restarted making his breakfast. "But this time you wait until I sit down to explain."
"Can I know that your go-to reaction is to drop things?" Meredith pulled herself up from the floor with a wince.
"Fair enough," George snickered. "But can I know that you reveal something like that?!"
She sat back down at the table, stretching her leg out again. George sat down opposite her. This time his oatmeal had made it to the table without any accidents.
"How's your hand?" she asked.
"I'll live," he stared at her. "So an attending anesthesiologist? How the hell?"
"Please don't choke or fall off the chair or spit out your oatmeal," Meredith told him.
"Haha, very funny," he looked at her unamused, "I won't, I promise."
"Just making sure," she took a deep breath, watching his reaction: "I'm also a fully trained neuro- and general surgeon." He stared at her blankly, his face showing no reaction. She really hated telling people, she could feel the questions coming and she still hadn't decided how much detail to give.
"You're what?!" he finally broke his silence. "How old are you?"
"27," she told him simply and was met with more silence.
"27 …," he repeated. "27 – how … what … why … I'm 27. Then why in god's name were you an intern then?"
"Remember how I was absent for six weeks in September and October?" Meredith inquired. George nodded. "I was back home wrapping up my residencies at my training hospital. Due to a bunch of uncontrollable tragic circumstances, I had to move to Seattle before I was able to graduate and submit any paperwork to the American boards. This meant that in their eyes I was nothing more than an intern. For the last four months, I have been in a constant battle with the respected boards to have my clinical work, research, and surgical hours recognized so that I can practice in the States as an attending and be eligible to sit for the board exams," Meredith explained. "I resigned after the merger was announced and after I received confirmation that I'd be able to practice in at least one of my specialties."
"So you really didn't throw the towel," George commented after a while. "How did you manage to complete three residencies at the age of 27?"
"Contrary to popular belief I was actually blessed – or cursed, however, you choose to look at it – with quite a bit of brain power. I moved abroad for med school, graduated at 19, and have been training ever since. I'm aware that it sounds ridiculous and absurd and unbelievable."
"God, I was so wrong."
"As for Derek," Meredith began to clarify, "We met at Joe's on my very first night back in Seattle, weeks before I even thought about reentering the training or working at Grace. Neither of us knew about the other's profession. It was supposed to be a one-time thing. I think you have a pretty good idea of how the first few months of working together went. Lots of disapproving looks, a few arguments here and there, and a lot of pent-up frustration on my part. And then he went to an international conference which just happened to be at my old hospital where I was finishing my training and the rest is history," Meredith felt the need to explain. She wanted to make sure their relationship wasn't seen as anything other than what it was. "I'm not promoting my education because I don't want it to be sensationalized. And we are not promoting our relationship because it's not relevant to anyone but us. So I would ask you to not go around telling people."
As soon as Derek had stepped foot into the hospital he had been pulled into an emergency surgery. Sometimes there were weeks or months – sometimes even years – between tumor diagnosis and surgery, and sometimes there were just hours. He had just operated on one of those cases.
The patient had come to the ER unconscious and in an epileptic status that night. The team in the ER had run tests and soon discovered the cause on the CT scan: a ginormous skull-based tumor. In order to save the patient's life, they had to operate immediately. Derek and one of his attendings had thirty minutes to formulate a thorough surgical plan before making the first cut. For the time being the patient was stable but critical in the ICU. There was no way of knowing what neurological damage the tumor had caused.
The surgery had been long, pushing Derek's entire surgical schedule for the day several hours back. He knew he had to operate, but he still worried about his other anxiously waiting patients. For him the delay was an inconvenience – some juggling of the schedule and a few more hours he had put in – for his patients and their families, it meant hours of more waiting. And he hated it.
He had just finished talking to his patient's family – a mother of three young kids – and had thirty minutes before the OR was turned over and his patient was prepped and ready for him. He needed to find Addison to hand over the papers.
"Derek," he heard his name called behind him. He stopped. He had hoped to have more time before this meeting and if his schedule hadn't been messed up he would have been in the safety of the OR right now. "Hello! Brother! I know you heard me, you can't ignore me any longer." He released a breath and turned around.
"Nancy," he said unenthusiastically. There she was – his sister, make-up immaculate, dressed for Fifth Avenue, standing in the surgical family waiting room of his hospital, looking out of place.
"You're not surprised. Why are you not surprised to see me?" she asked, coming over to hug him.
"Liz called last night to complain that you're abusing her for her nanny," Derek shrugged, returning the hug. "How did you get into the surgical family waiting room?" He had started moving again, trying to move the inevitable conversation to a more private, less public area of the hospital.
"That little snitch," she followed him. "Wait – you're talking to Liz? And you don't bother returning any of our calls?"
"Some loyalties are stronger than others. Accusing your brother of destroying his life by leaving his cheating wife and generally being on the side of the cheating wife shows me where your loyalty lies," Derek told her pointedly.
"Come on, Derek. We've all been giving you crap," Nancy argued.
"No, you and Kath are the only ones who can't get over the fact that Addison and I are history," Derek retorted, "You and Kath are the only ones who spend hours on the phone with Addie psychoanalyzing me, and you're the only ones concerned with my mental health. So, yes, I choose whose calls I pick up and whose I don't."
"Wow! I feel very welcome," Nancy replied sarcastically. "Can you tell me why I flew to this godforsaken town if this is the welcome I get? Aren't you even a little bit happy to see me?"
"You weren't seriously expecting a welcome committee, were you? I would be much happier if I had some notice before you showed up. Besides, I know why you are here. Let's be honest – it's not out of concern or worry, or you could've checked on me months ago. No, you learned some intel and now you're here for information. How much of the ticket did Kath pay?" he teased.
"I'm a very successful OB/GYN I can pay for my own ticket to come see my brother," she shot back defensively.
"Nancy, I'm not questioning your success. I just know the inner workings of your relationship – I fell victim to it too many times."
"Whatever – the golden boy has everything figured out once again," Nancy snarked, "Except leaving his perfect wife, of course. It's not too late to change your mind …"
"It is."
"You can still stop the … What?"
"The divorce was finalized yesterday morning. It's done."
"Derek …"
"I don't want to hear your opinion. You've made it perfectly clear how you feel about all this. I don't need a reminder."
"How can you so okay with this? Over ten years of marriage and you seem to be completely unfazed by the fact that you are now divorced."
"When you walk in on John cheating on you with Beth in your bed, we can talk again. Until then, you're not allowed to have an opinion on how I reacted, what I did or the decisions I made," Derek told her, "And just to be clear I don't want you or anyone else to go through that."
"But Derek, it's Addie. You were so perfect together," Nancy seemed desperate, she still hadn't accepted that his marriage hadn't lasted.
"Nance, we had some amazing years together that I don't want to miss. And then life happened. And it's fine that this chapter is closed now. There are other chapters to be written," Derek tried to convince her. They had stopped walking on the back stairs to the main surgical floor. "Just because my time with Addie is over doesn't mean you have to cut her out of your life. Hell, she even works here and we are civil. Okay … most of the time."
"If you say so."
"I say so," Derek smiled reassuringly. "I am happy. I'm doing well."
"But the trailer!"
"For heaven's sake! Why is everyone so hung up on the trailer? I'm not living in the trailer right now. I love that thing, but even I realized that central heating and running water are luxuries I don't want to miss in the dead of the North Pacific winter."
"But I thought you lived there right now. Addie said …" Nancy started but stopped herself.
"You just realized that my ex-wife is not the most reliable source of information about me, haven't you?" he grinned. He had started climbing the stairs again.
"Okay then let's talk about the slutty intern," she followed him.
"Yeah … no," he shook his head. "I will not be discussing my relationship with you."
"Addie said you are screwing a dumb blonde. For someone who was so heartbroken by his cheating wife, you sure moved on pretty fast. Not to mention that she's probably only using you to get ahead. From what I heard, she needs it."
He reached the top of the stairs and had his hand on the doorknob. He turned to face his sister, who was just getting started to badmouth the woman he loved and whom she had never met. "And that's the reason, why you won't get any information out of me. I am Vault. And she is none of your business. And if you continue to say anything belittling, rude, or unjustified about my relationship, I will stop talking to you altogether. That is a promise," Derek told her earnestly.
"Okay, okay," Nancy backpaddled when she saw the seriousness in his eyes. "I've never seen you like this over a girl. Not even Addison."
"I've never been like this over a girl. Especially Addison," he pulled the door open as his pager buzzed on this waistband. He was relieved to see that his OR was ready for him. "Sorry, my OR is ready. I need to go."
"But what about me?" Nancy asked.
"Nancy I have a job and patients. You came here unannounced, I have a full OR schedule. I can't just not operate because you're in town."
"And what am I supposed to do while you're in surgery?"
"This is Seattle, I'm sure you'll find something to do. Catch a fish at Pike Place Market or go see the Gum Wall," Derek chuckled, knowing all too well that neither of his suggestions would appeal to his sister. "The world is your oyster."
"What the hell is a gum wall?" she yelled after him.
Meredith rolled her eyes as she read the long text she had just received. She slowed her limp and ultimately came to a stop, typing a quick, witty reply. She hit send and continued limping across campus to her second class of the day. She hadn't taken five steps when her phone started ringing.
"Hannes," she answered the Facetime request.
"Meredith," he mimicked her tone, "You know, I expect a little more enthusiasm."
"I apologize for my lack of enthusiasm," Meredith continued on her way across campus. She had underestimated the distance between the two buildings.
"That's right, carry on my child."
"Don't listen to him, Mer! He's been acting like this since he got home from work. I suppose it's the sleep deprivation, so just ignore it," Katha appeared on the screen over his shoulder, and rolled her eyes.
"I thought we decided to ignore him 75% of the time," Meredith chuckled.
"True, but he wasn't supposed to know that," Katha winked before disappearing off-screen again. Meredith recognized their kitchen in the background.
"Guess the secret is out. Can you explain why you so desperately need a photo of me?" Meredith asked.
"For the wall," Hannes told her, Meredith just looked at him confused. "Sometimes I have my doubts that your IQ is actually as high as you claim it to be. You're starting a new teaching job today, aren't you? And since you never delivered one for your first day as an attending I feel obligated to remind you, so that we can continue the tradition. You may be in a different country but you're still part of the gang."
"How do you even know about the job?" Meredith questioned.
"Derek told me," Hannes shrugged.
"Of course he did," Meredith rolled her eyes. "I still can't piece together how you two became friends."
"This happens when you leave your Facetime calls running while you have to quickly 'take a call' or 'check on a patient' or 'write down a thought'. I don't think you realize how often you just leave us hanging for twenty minutes or more," Hannes told her.
"That's not true," Meredith protested.
"It is true, Mer," Katha interjected.
"I can't believe you never said anything."
"We know you. I lived with you. It's kind of what makes you you," Katha smiled. "Besides, it gives us a chance to get to know Derek. Otherwise, he'd just be a faceless name and this guy here," she pointed at her soon-to-be husband, "couldn't brag about being friends with an 'international' neurosurgeon," Katha rolled her eyes. "He tells everyone who will listen. It's kind of embarrassing."
"You know me too," Meredith pointed out. She had reached her building, noticing the many steps leading up to the entrance.
"Yeah, but you're not special. Everybody knows you," Hannes argued.
Meredith laughed, carefully taking the first stairs. "Okay, point taken."
"Why are you limping, Mer?" Katha asked, her eagle eyes immediately picking up the difference in her walk.
"I had to be the hero, and hurt my knee," Meredith confessed. "Let's not talk about it."
"What did you do?" Katha insisted.
"There was an accident on the freeway on Friday, I got out to help and I slipped."
"Must be pretty bad if you are limping like that," Hannes pointed out.
"It's nothing," Meredith said and was immediately met with two incredulous faces. "Really, it's not that bad."
"Cut the crap, we were both there last time," Hannes said.
"Have you been to a doctor?" Katha asked. Meredith couldn't hide that she hadn't. They knew her too well. "Meredith Elisabeth Grey, go see a doctor!"
"Uhh, full first, middle, and last name – you're in trouble," Hannes chuckled.
"I will, don't worry," she promised, adding under her breath: "When I navigate this health care system." She finally made it to the top of the stairs. She entered the building in search of her room. The building was modern, nothing like to the old historic buildings in Munich.
"Good," Katha studied her a little closer, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. She picked up the phone from the kitchen table and walked into their living room. She could hear Hannes' protests, but he was soon shut up with a single look and her closing the door in front of him. "Everything else okay? You look tired."
"Nothing is okay. I saw my dad yesterday and found out that I have two sisters. Mom keeps dishing out the explicit details of her affair with the man who hired me. I haven't operated in … I can't even remember how long. And I'm having nightmares again," Meredith told her honestly. Katha knew she had not seen the very worst like Anna had, but she had seen her fair share. "Oh, and I'm consulting on a fetal case where Derek's ex-wife is the primary. And before you ask, I can't talk about it right now because I don't trust myself. I already cried today and I'm about to teach my second class."
"But you do talk to someone about it?" Katha asked, knowing all too well that Meredith had a tendency to bottle things up.
"Yes, Derek is great and very patient," she assured her with a small smile.
"Okay, tell me more about the fetal case,"
"Don't get me started …"
Meredith ranted about the consult as she waited outside the classroom. She was a little early and someone was still using the room. Some of her students waited as well, some of them eyeing her with interest. They ended their conversation soon after she had promised again to send pictures and Hannes insisted on taking some screenshots of their call, which made her laugh. She put her phone to silence and shoved it in her bag, still smiling. She was so grateful for her friends who knew how to make her smile even when she felt like crying.
"Hey, I don't think we've met. I'm Patrick," a guy had come over and held out his hand.
"Hello, nice to meet you Patrick," Meredith shook his hand deliberately leaving out her name.
"Are you new here? I don't remember seeing you last semester."
"You could say that, but I'm not part …", Meredith began to explain, but Patrick didn't let her finish. He was a very eager guy. He was tall, blond, and considerably handsome. Meredith guessed that he was only a few years younger than her, which explained his confidence. He had come with a group of other students who were all standing outside her room, but he was the only one who had come over.
"I overheard you talking on the phone. That was German, right?"
"Yes, it was," Meredith confirmed.
"Oh, cool! Did you just transfer to U Dub? I'd be happy to sit down with you show you the ropes, and help you catch up. Maybe over drinks? How about tonight?" he was definitely flirting with her. His friends watched from across the hall.
"That won't be necessary. Thank you, thou," Meredith tried to let him down gently.
"Okay, just drinks then" he smiled. The door to her classroom opened and people started streaming out. She picked up her purse from the floor. "Do you know anything about the person teaching this class? I think they are new. I heard that this class was a total waste of time last semester. I really hope they just upload the video so we can watch in 2x speed."
"I heard she has high standards," Meredith waited until the last people had exited the room before entering herself. "I also heard that she is very fair."
"Okay, where did you hear that?" he asked, stopping in front of the row where his friends had entered.
"I have my sources," Meredith shrugged.
"You want to sit with us?" Patrick offered and pointed to his people.
"Thanks that's very nice of you, but I already have a seat," she told him with an amused grin.
"Shame! Well, maybe next time."
"I doubt it – it's kind of a permanent seat," she started to move to the front of the room where her desk was. She turned around: "Hey, and don't be discouraged – this was fun."
Patrick looked at her in confusion.
When she reached the desk, she took out her laptop and connected it to the projector. She checked the time on her phone before deciding it was time.
"Okay people, if everyone could settle down so we can get started," Meredith spoke up. She watched Patrick turning red and his friends teasing him. "Welcome to the winter quarter. This is Med 514 – From Diagnosis to Treatment. My name is Dr. Grey, and we will have the pleasure of meeting here every Tuesday for this quarter."
"What?! You're the teacher? Not just some TA?" someone asked. He looked very disappointed to see her. She had no idea who or what he had expected.
"No, Mr. – what's your name?"
"Hank Wilkinson," he replied.
"I'm very sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Wilkinson, but I'm actually your teacher for this course. And before you fear for your education run to the dean to complain that this young chick is trying to teach you something. I should introduce myself in a little more detail. As I said, my name is Meredith Grey. I have an MD, a Master's in Public Health, and a Master's in Health Administration. This is my seventh year teaching at the university level but I'm also actively practicing medicine. I like to challenge my students, but I have a reputation for being very fair," Meredith told them. "Any more questions before we start?!"
"Is that her?" Nancy asked pointing out another blonde resident. She had somehow caught on to the fact that residents wore light blue scrubs. They sat in the cafeteria for a quick lunch between surgeries. Derek had successfully completed his second surgery of the day with some time to spare. He had decided to be the bigger person and asked his sister to join him for lunch. He had regretted it instantly.
"No."
"You didn't even look," Nancy complained.
Derek looked up and saw Dr. Stevens and George leaving the cafeteria: "Like I said: No."
"Come on, Derek! I didn't fly all the way out here, just to leave with nothing."
"You're not leaving with nothing, you stole your brother some nerves."
"You're in such a mood," she rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant. Tell me something about the slutty girl." Derek glared at her. "Okay, slutty intern."
"I thought I made clear what would happen if you continue with this language."
"Sorry, I just can't believe you're dating an intern," Nancy shook her head.
"What if I wasn't dating an intern?"
"You broke up with her?"
"No!" Derek felt like screaming, "I'm done talking about this."
"Oh look there's Addison," Nancy spotted her, "Wait a second is Addie pregnant?"
"She didn't tell you?" Derek almost choked on his salad and added under his breath: "So much for being friends."
"No, she didn't!" Nancy was clearly shocked "Derek, I have to ask. Is it yours?"
"No! You're an OB – do the math. She looks about 20 weeks. I left New York in June."
"But whose baby is it," Nancy asked. Derek just looked at her. "You mean it's Mark's?"
"You are honestly telling me that you had no idea that Addison and Mark were living together for months after I left? And that she's having his baby," Derek questioned. "But I'm the villain in this story for filing for divorce and going through with it. And you're calling my girlfriend slutty when we started dating months after I filed for divorce? You see the hypocrisy, don't you?"
"I don't know what to say."
"Well, that's a first," Derek snickered. Nancy looked distraught, her eyes never leaving Addison, who was talking to a colleague. They sat in silence while Derek finished his lunch. "How could she keep this from me?" Nancy broke the silence.
"I don't know. I'm sure she had her reasons," Derek shrugged.
"Does Mark know?"
"I don't know and I don't care," Derek replied.
"But why did she leave New York?"
"Look Nancy," Derek exhaled, "I really don't care. This is Addison's business. I have no right to know anything about her pregnancy, nor do I want to. If you want to know, just ask her."
"She lied to me! How could she …"
"Don't be ridiculous, Nance. She's your friend. We all make mistakes. I'm sure she could use your support. Five minutes ago you were willing to side with her over your own brother."
"Speaking of mistakes. Why are you refusing to tell me about your intern?" She asked. "See, I dropped the slutty. Now you can tell me."
"You just called her a mistake and you expect me to tell you anything?"
"Come on, Derek!" she whined.
"No," he shook his head, picking up his ringing phone off the table. "Shepherd … mhm … I'm on my way," he got up and waved at Nancy, leaving her sitting there.
Meredith stood outside the conference room working up the courage to enter. This was the room where she had confronted Derek about Jamie's treatment plan. The room where she had been accused of cheating, and the room where she had shattered the world of Emma's parents. It was fitting that this meeting took place in the same room. Seattle Grace Mercy West had several conference rooms, but in a twisted sense of irony, she always ended up here for the big milestones. The blinds were drawn. She could hear voices inside, but she was not ready.
She was late – again. Her car had refused to start, and this time she feared it was the end for the old Toyota. She had taken a taxi, but the driver had been rude and had refused to drop her at the entrance she had requested. So she had limped through the entire hospital complex carrying her heavy bag, a large binder containing her important documents and other relevant papers. She took a deep breath ready to knock.
"Meredith? What are you doing here?"
She turned around, startled. "Chief," she replied politely, panicking inside. Under no circumstances could she tell him why she was outside a conference room on the surgical floor when in his mind she had no business being in this hospital. She was bound by patient confidentiality and her own secrets. He looked at her expectantly while her mind raced to come up with a plausible explanation. "Oh, I'm here for a meeting."
"Who are you meeting?" he asked curiously. He seemed genuinely interested and in a chatty mood.
"I'm meeting Dr. Montgomery."
"Are you thinking about going into OB/GYN now that you dropped out of the surgical program?" Richard probed. Meredith could hear the disappointment in his voice and once again it didn't sit well with her. But then again she had a hard time suppressing a laugh – the thought of her going into OB/GYN almost sent her in a fit of giggles.
"Sure. I'm just looking at my options, to see what possibilities are out there and Dr. Montgomery was willing to sit down with me," Meredith replied, shifting her weight impatiently off her left leg.
"Addison is great. I'm sure she'll be very helpful. But you know, OB/GYN is not as demanding and challenging as general surgery. I'm sure your mom would love to see you pursuing a real surgical field."
"I'm sure Dr. Montgomery would disagree with that statement. Especially given her education and training," Meredith raised an eyebrow, ignoring the comment about her mother who had already seen her excel. Meredith was not one to follow in anyone's footsteps. "And last time I checked OB/GYN was a surgical specialty."
"Of course," he backtracked, a little surprised to be called out. "So what have you been up to these past few months?"
Meredith stifled a groan, she really wasn't in the mood for small talk. "I've been working on a few projects here and there, and I'm back at school." Meredith amazed herself how easy it was to bend the truth.
"That's good to hear …"
"Chief, sorry to interrupt, but I've been trying to catch you all day. I have an important question about the budget adjustment I submitted last night," Derek interrupted. He had no questions.
"No problem, Derek. I was just catching up with Dr. Grey. Do you remember Dr. Grey?"
"Ah, of course," Derek held out his hand. Meredith saw the amused sparkle in his eyes. "How are you, Dr. Grey?"
"Dr. Shepherd," Meredith greeted, taking his hand, and mimicking his amused expression. Instinctively, she ran her fingers over his soft palm and he brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. The touch was brief, but both appreciated the opportunity. "Thanks, I'm fine. And you?"
"As well. I would love to catch up more, but I have another surgery in ten minutes and it would be great if I could check that off my to-do list," Derek smiled her smile.
"I'm so sorry Meredith, looks like chief duties are calling," Richard told her apologetically.
"That's okay. I understand," Meredith smiled, fighting back the urge to roll her eyes.
"Okay, Derek let's go," the Chief started to move.
Meredith mouthed "thank you" to Derek who was still looking at her in a way that should be forbidden within the four walls of a hospital.
"No problem. I love you!" he mouthed back and sent her a silent kiss.
She shook her head with a grin and signed "I love you" back.
Meredith knocked on the door and pushed the door handle down without waiting for an answer.
"I'm so sorry for being late," Meredith apologized upon entering and closing the door behind her. She immediately had three pairs of eyes on her. One pair looked happy to see her, another looked surprised and the other showed exactly what she had expected – some hostility and a lot of confusion and hurt. Before she or Addison had a chance to say anything, Meredith saw the tirade coming.
"This is a private meeting! What are you thinking, baring into a closed room like this? Who taught you to walk in without waiting for an answer? Besides, you don't even work here anymore! You should …"
Addison just looked at her patient speechlessly, while Meredith let it happen, she had prepared for something like this. That was why she had waited so long to enter.
"Miranda," Ben put a calming hand on his wife's arm. He was dressed casually while she was still in her scrubs. "I don't think Meredith came in by mistake. Maybe we should let her explain. Hi, Meredith."
"Hi, Ben," Meredith greeted, a little surprised that her colleague was married to her former resident. "Dr. Bailey," she nodded, placing her heavy binder on the table, sitting down next to Addison, opposite from Ben and Dr. Bailey.
"Meredith?" Dr. Bailey turned to her husband. Her tone was still very hostile. "You know her?!"
"Yes, we work together. She joined the practice about a month ago," he explained, his voice calm and even. Perhaps it was a blessing that Dr. Bailey was married to Ben since he knew her career path. He was a partner in the practice, and she had applied with a full resume.
"You work with her? She was my intern just two months ago. What are you doing here, Grey?"
"I asked her to consult on your case, Miranda," Addison explained calmly.
"Her? I thought when you said you consulted Neurosurg, you meant Derek," Dr. Bailey complained.
"Trust me, you don't want his consult on your case," Meredith chuckled.
"Dr. Shepherd is a very competent and skilled neurosurgeon with years of experience. He's the head of the department, and since he took over the quality of the department has improved significantly. You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Actually she does," Ben muttered under his breath, but Dr. Bailey was too busy being upset to notice.
"I agree. Dr. Shepherd is an excellent and very skilled neurosurgeon. However, his specialties are aneurysms, vascular malformations, and tumors in adults. And he …"
"… referred your case to Dr. Grey, when I approached him yesterday." Addison finished her sentence.
"I understand that yesterday and today have been very confusing and emotional. And I also understand that the last five minutes have not been very reassuring," Meredith jumped in before anyone had a chance to speak. "So if we have time, I would love to take a few minutes to explain how I got here and why I was asked to consult, to clear up any questions before we continue," Meredith had prepared for this. She knew her former resident, she knew there was no way she would listen to anything she said before she had explained her past. She also knew that she was no George or Derek – Dr. Bailey needed ironclad proof. To make this meeting a success, she needed to put all her cards on the table – and even then, she was not convinced that it would be.
"I have time," Ben stated.
"' Course you do," Meredith grinned. "Who took your shift?"
"Mitchell. He wants to go skiing in March but he doesn't want to use his PTO, so he'll take about anything if you ask him."
Meredith laughed.
"I don't have forever. I have to get back, I only blocked out an hour for this meeting," Dr. Bailey said, still glaring at Meredith.
"Miranda, I think you should take the time. However long it takes, it takes. The floor can survive without you for a while," Addison interjected. Meredith could tell that she did not appreciate her patient being ready to jump right back into work with this diagnosis hanging over her. Meredith agreed.
"Fine, but this better be an amazing explanation," Dr. Bailey glared directly at Meredith.
"I'll do my best," Meredith inhaled. "A few months ago, you complained that you had never seen my full med school transcript," Meredith opened the binder in front of her and took out the first set of documents "I went to med school in Munich, more precisely LMU. I graduated eight years ago, did my doctorate in medicine, and spent half a year at John Hopkins as an 'intern' as part of my practical year." She handed over the papers "This is my diploma, my German approbation as a physician, my doctoral certificate, and my translated and notarized transcript," Meredith watched as Dr. Bailey inspected them. "I then returned to Munich to do my residency," she flipped the divider of her binder and pulled out another packet of papers, "in general surgery," she slid her entire general surgery transcript and her official German board certification to Dr. Bailey. "I also did a residency in anesthesiology, I'm certified in critical care and have worked as a German emergency physician," she said again, handing over the papers to prove her statement. She had hoped that Dr. Bailey would eventually accept that she was not a quack, but she scrutinized each document with a critical eye.
"And then, because it wasn't ridiculous enough, I added a residency in neurosurgery," Meredith handed over those papers as well. "I specialized in complicated brain tumors and pediatric neurosurgery. Together with Dr. Matthias Julius, the head of pediatric neurosurgery, we established a major pediatric neurosurgery center in southern Germany. I've been acting as unofficial deputy of the department the last year of my residency, which was considered my fellowship year," Meredith explained. "Dr. Shepherd asked me to consult with Dr. Montgomery on your case in my role as a trained pediatric neurosurgeon, knowing that we were part of an international group of surgeons pioneering fetal neural tube defect surgeries."
Dr. Bailey looked up from Meredith's papers, eyeing her critically.
"Why were you part of my intern class?" she finally asked.
"Last June I had to unexpectedly move back to the States after almost twelve years in Munich. My final exam had been scheduled for September, so the respected American boards had no reason to believe that I had completed any residency when I moved here. Bureaucracy takes time, and I'm not one to sit around and do nothing."
Ben chuckled.
"And why didn't you say anything when I asked where you've been?"
"Because at that point I still hadn't received confirmation that I would be able to practice as an attending surgeon. As of three weeks ago, I am board eligible in all three of my specialties. Before that, I had no idea if I would have to repeat any or all my residencies."
"Did you know?" Dr. Bailey asked Addison.
"No," she shook her head. "I found out yesterday."
"Who knows?"
"Until yesterday – only Dr. Shepherd and Dr. Yang."
"Mhm, why is Dr. Shepherd the only one who knows about your training?" Dr. Bailey asked. Addison shifted in her chair, obviously curious about what Meredith had to say.
"Dr. Shepherd," it seemed weird calling him that all the time, but she stuck with it, "attended an international neuroscience conference in Munich last September. He ran into me and heard me speak at the conference – obviously he had questions. He respected my request for privacy," Meredith shortened the story, forgoing the gory and romantic details. She felt Addison's side-eye. But, she didn't say anything.
"Is this why he prevented me from stopping you from talking to those people?" Bailey inquired.
"What people?" Meredith was confused, she shifted in her chair, her knee really bothering her.
"The couple you were talking to in here just before Thanksgiving," Bailey helped her.
"You wanted to come in … to … to interrupt the conversation?" Meredith asked, knowing exactly which conversation she meant.
"Yes, I told you no patient interactions without another person present …" Bailey told her in all seriousness. Meredith found it very difficult not to object. In her mind, she kept telling herself that Bailey was a patient, not a colleague. "… and you disobeyed my orders and left the floor …" Meredith bit her tongue "… and your responsibility once again …" she bit harder and clenched her hand into a fist "… leaving Dr. Karev to manage the floor himself while you did whatever you deemed more important. The only reason I didn't stop you, was because of Derek."
"I think this is neither the time nor the place for me to comment on this. Even if I really want to," Meredith said coldly.
"No, I want to hear what you have to say."
"Miranda," Ben cautioned, he had seen Meredith mad before. She had yelled at a seasoned surgeon when he had tried to publicly blame her for his mistake. It had not been pretty – for the surgeon.
"No, you don't. Not today. I'm just glad you didn't barge in when I told Emma's parents that their six-year-old was terminal and had a life expectancy of less than a year."
After that statement, it became awkwardly silent in the conference room. Meredith watched as Bailey shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
"Well, shall we move on?" Addison asked, changing the topic.
"Yes, please," Ben agreed.
"Okay," Meredith nodded. "I'm sure you've read the official diagnosis."
"Yes, we have," Ben confirmed, his fingers interlacing with Bailey's.
"Perfect, do you have any questions that I can answer so far?" Meredith asked them. She had spoken with Addison earlier. They were on the same page. Addison had filled her in on what she had talked to them about, what tests she had run, and what her official recommendation was. Meredith agreed. She had been straightforward to work with on this case. There had been no awkwardness or pettiness.
"How did this happen?" Bailey asked. "I did everything I was supposed to. I took the recommended dose of folic acid and followed doctor's orders. How?" She seemed genuinely desperate. If before she had acted like a resident now she acted like any other mother-to-be would in this situation.
"I'm going to call you Miranda now because I always call my patient's parents by their first names," Meredith announced. "You did nothing wrong, Miranda. A certain percentage of these cases just happen without the usual indications and we still don't know why."
"You're blood levels are all fine," Addison added, "These defects develop so early in pregnancy that sometimes by the time you realize you are pregnant it is already too late. But that doesn't mean that there is anyone to blame."
Miranda nodded, her eyes sad.
"So what are our options?" Ben asked, his hand holding on to his wife's. Meredith had always hated watching the parents coming to terms with their child's diagnosis. Knowing the parents made it so much harder.
For the next 45 minutes, Meredith and Addison explained the options and the pros and cons of each. She had never talked to her patients' parents in such medical detail before.
"What would you recommend?" Miranda asked when they had covered every last detail.
"You know we can't give you a recommendation," Meredith said.
"Oh, come on!" Ben probed.
"I really can't recommend anything here. It's surgery either way – one more extensive than the other," Addison finally said.
"Unofficially, between us," Meredith relented. She usually never shared her opinion, but this case was somehow different. "I would always prefer the prenatal approach because the data shows better outcomes for the kids. However, this approach is far more draining for the mother and takes a toll on the entire family. Especially in your case, since you have to travel out of state for this approach. I reached out to some colleagues Philly, San Francisco, Chicago, Austin, and LA. They are all willing to see you for an initial fetal surgery consult, based on your chart. Seattle Children's is more than happy to take over your care if you prefer the postnatal approach. I know this is a difficult decision. I just want to remind you that you have a very small window to decide what you want to do."
"And there is absolutely no way we could have fetal surgery in Seattle?" Ben asked.
"Unfortunately, no. Seattle Children's does not have a qualified surgeon or team," Meredith apologized.
"I can't leave Tuck with Tucker for that long. We can't take him with us either. I can't leave my baby in another state for 20 weeks." Miranda desperately told Ben. "I agree it's the better approach, but I don't think it's feasible for us. I have a four-year-old with my ex-husband and we share custody."
"I understand, I'm sorry," Addison smiled sadly.
"How many of these cases have you done?" Ben asked Meredith.
"By myself? About 15," Meredith replied.
"When was your last case?"
"I did two in October before I came back. Why?" she asked, but she never got an answer to her question.
21/10/23
Yes, it has really taken me over two years to write this chapter. Thank you to all who have patiently waited and asked how I am doing. I hope you are still interested.
I'm doing great. Two years ago I started a new job, which drained all the creative writing energy I had and then I had a very big writer's block. Just know that I have every intention of continuing this story. It may take a long while.
I'm looking forward to your feedback!