Chapter 38

The skeletons in my closet

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. They belong to Shonda Rhimes (I hope I'm not mistaken)

Background: Starts from the beginning of season 1 with their first meeting at the bar. AU from there. Derek is looking for a fresh start, one-night stands and mostly- oblivion from his carefully built life back home. Meredith is a virgin but still hotheaded and stubborn to no end. When her one-night-stand attempt ends up her boss, she's mortified. Still, not as mortified as overhearing him talk to another attending asking him is she was frigid and Derek agreeing with him. Now he's determined to forget about her, and she will do anything to prove his words wrong. None of them expected to fall for each other in the process.

1.

A week before Christmas they had their intern exam for the first year, which sort of determined them moving on to the second year. Despite not sleeping, Mer had studied hard-or as hard as she could. After the talk she'd had with Bailey, she'd gotten a new wave of concentration and started finding her balance finally. Even with Liam and Ben around. In fact, she'd successfully avoided Liam since the conversation they had in that hallway, and she was satisfied with what she'd said there. The situation hadn't changed, nothing about it was good- but for a moment she could breathe a bit and she'd developped a nice study routine. From time to time Derek slept over, and quizzed her and they made out heavily. Since that awkward time in the trailer with her crying again, he'd made sure he didn't yet cross the making out line. She thought on some level she should protest, but it felt good not to feel conflicted and scared for a bit. She wasn't sure what that said about her, but until the intern exam, she wanted to just enjoy what she did have and just be OK for a moment. Just to breathe, and study, and enjoy his company. Just until the exam was over.

He quizzed her and brough over take out and they'd kiss forever and then talk medicine again.

It was cozy and healthy. Sometimes she snuck out with him to one balcony on the 3rd floor of the hospital where they just sat, him holding her from behind cozied in his arms, and they watched the sunset (or sunrise depending on which shift they had) over the ferry boats. She still didn't sleep, but that had taken a bit of a back step to everything else right now.

The day of the exam, she had breakfast with Derek on said balcony, and he gave her snacks for the exam and they finally scheduled having a proper date for right after Christmas. She had the exam, and then all interns worked through Christmas and the next day, and then there were a whole FOUR days they had free around New Year. Her chance to explore more of her relationship. But not TODAY. Today she was a surgeon and nothing else.

Ben... even since that odd talk they had, she'd caught him watching her closely a little more. If it was anyone else she'd wonder if he liked her or something- but she'd seen him leave few times in a roll (progress for him) with one of the nurses, Hannah,. Besides, she wasn't as vain as to assume every guy liked her or something. But he was watching her a bit too intently, without ever saying anything. It was getting annoying and were it not for the exam, she would have said something. Now she just wanted to do well. She hadn't seen Liam all day, and of course she had to see him right before the exam.. Wasn't that her luck lately? Didn't quite occur to her that he might do that intentionally, just to distract her before the exam, to rattle her like she'd rattled him last time they spoke. They were all getting ready for the exam and taking things from the changing room. Her stomach contracted in an ugly way when she saw him come in, but he only took what he needed and left, shooting her a dirty look.

'Earth to Mer? You ready?' Izzy rushed her. She smiled and nodded.

'Just one last look at my notes and I'm coming. You go. I'll be right there.'

Izzie, George and Alex headed over, and Christina seemed to be checking her flashcards one last time as well, waiting for them to head over together. Mer opened her notebook/journal where she kept anatomy drawings, notes from how surgeries went compared to what she expected and detail summaries of what she was supposed to have down in terms of knowledge at this point. Her holy book. Everything she may need to review for any possible test. It was getting satisfyingly chunky and colorful. The idea that most of what she needed for this one exam was in that notebook was extremely satisfying. Of course she had zillion textbooks in her office at home, medical journals, her mom's notes and tapes and countless computer notes- but this was the core of it all, the one thing to look through if she had no time for anything else.

She opened the thick leather cover notebook and something slipped and fell out. A polaroid. She picked it up before Christina even noticed, her heart turning to stone.

2.

She stood like this, polaroid on the page in her open journal, looking like she was still reviewing notes.

Her heart was racing and she knew that on some level, but her body seemed far away, like it was someone else's. Her ears were ringing. For a second, she just throught that polaroid was from that night. The color of the walls in the picture background, the color of her clothes as a whole before she'd seen details, the fake dragon tattoo on the small of her back she'd put specifically for the party that night, her hair falling in big waves over her shoulders... The halter top with extremely low back and skirt she was wearing that day..And even that, that would have been enough. She knew there were pictures of that night, but she hadn't seen them and she hadn't intended to.

Before she'd stopped herself, she'd taken in the details of the picture.

Her fingers were shaking and she was sweating. Or someone who looked like her was. She couldn't feel her fingers- or her whole body.

The picture was a girl from the back, in halter top and too short skirt. She was gathering her things with a knee resting on couch. You could see a pink fabric ball on the floor- her underwear. Her dragon tattoo was peaking from the end of the halter top. Her arms had red bruises that she now recognized as fingertip bruises from Liam holding her forarms to hold her down. She didn't wear pantyhose anymore, and her white legs had red scratches and a thin stream of blood dripping down her leg. If it was anyone else's picture she'd quiestion what it meant, but right now it was a doorway to another time.

And suddenly she could feel herself stumble out of that room with shaky, aching legs. She could feel pushing between hundreds of sweaty bodies at the party to get outside, the faces swaying and blurring in front of her. Someone pointed at her legs laughing and suddenly everyone was staring at her and laughing. She realized later on they somehow assumed she'd gotten her period and didn't know it. Ha-ha. She remembered the awful smell of alcohol, sweat, mixing perfumes and fear as she was desperately trying to make her way out. Feeling, for a first time in her life, like the halter top and the skirt covered exactly nothing. That sickening desire to get into sweats and never show her legs again. She remembered the stinging pain with every step she took, still confused as to what the hell had just happened, and just knowing she had to GO, far away from that house, far away from people, far away from THEM. The bile was rising through her throat.

'Meredith, we're going to be late, come on!' Christina's voice snapped her in reality.

She hid the picture back in the journal, in her backpack, and let her friend lead her out and to the exam room like she was sleepwalking. She didn't remember the person leading the exam giving them directions, just the clock ticking away. She didn't remember anything for about 20 min as she stared at the paper. She looked at the questions. There were words, black words on white paper. She couldn't make out meaning. She read sentences multiple times, but they were just string of words making up sentences and giving out no further meaning. She was in a room, on a chair, there was paper and pen in front of her, the clock was ticking and other people were around her doing something. It was all moving like a movie she was watching, on some language she couldn't understand.

Finally, eventually, she found her legs moving her out of that room, and then she was getting her things and walking out, and then she was at Joe's in the middle of the morning. Those bits were all she could gather from her memory. Everything was fuzzy and far from her, and there was some relief in that. Not a lot, but anything was better. She slid out of the chair and hid in a bathroom stall, taking the picture out again. Now she had time, and she turned it over. It didn't take a rocket scientist to guess, but guessing wasn't good enough right now. Nothing would ever be good enough again. His writing at the back simply said 'You'll never be anyone else's, Star.' She snapped the journal closed again, refusing to thow the picture out yet. She didn't know why, maybe to validate that she wasn't fully losing her mind. She got back at the barstool, sliding her credit card to the bartender substituting Joe.

'Scotch. Double. Keep 'em coming.'

3.

(Meredith's POV)

I drink and I drink and the time doesn't move and I'm there but I'm not really there. I fucked up. I know. But I can't take that back or stop myself. Or talk to anyone. What is there to say? I sit alone at Joe's and sulk and I drink in the middle of the day. I don't think. I may have thrown away my whole career in one swoop and I can't feel any regret. I should and I'm aware of that- but I still don't. I can't feel anything. Just the need to keep the scotch sliding through my body, keeping me warm. That's as far as my plan goes. And to keep doing that until I remember exactly nothing. Feels like a good plan right now. My lungs are refusing to fully expand, feeling on fire every time I breathe. I obsess over the golden colored liquid in my glass, the bitter taste it has going down, the instant wave of warmth it has, burning through my stomach. I turn to the bar door opening, and Ben comes through the door and heads straight towards me.. I intentionally turn back to the bar and my drink. Don't don't don't... He sits on the chair next to me anyhow and I grip the glass as tight as I can to avoid pulling away from the closeness of his body to mine.

I'm getting uncomfortably present, my body aware and awake again. I hate him for it. I stare down, hoping he'd go away. I can't do this right now. I wonder if I am still capable of making sentences that make sense.

'We're not friends' I finally manage.

'Don't worry, I wasn't condemning you to such an atrocity. Give me two minutes.'

Suddenly I remember why I liked having him as a friend, but I refuse to let him see my lips curl in a smile. For just a second, my lungs expand again. And then they don't. The smile dies quickly, my body dragging me back to reality I refuse to be a part of.

I don't lift my eyes from my scotch and I take a deep, warm sip. I'm a tequila girl through and through, but this is Derek's drink and ordering it when I'm down somehow sooths me.I'm waiting for him to ask how I am. He doesn't ask and I don't offer.

'Why did you do that?'. he asks instead. Like he doesn't know. Is he that oblivious? If he was why did he come?

'Does it matter?' I'm in no mood to contemplate.

'Not to me particularly.'

'What do you need?' He lifts his eyebrows and I realise my voice is all cracked and high pitched in very unbecoming way. He orders a drink.

'We're not friends.' I remind him and I lean closer to my drink.

'Do you remember our history midterms junior year?' He asks , so now I lift my gaze. He has my attention. I nod, feeling dumb. What does that have to do with anything?

'You remember what you said to me then?'

He was freaking out because he was supposed to study for that exam for a few months. Two weeks before it, he hadn't opened as much as a textbook. He sort of thought it could be fine to get behind on one grade. Until the teacher reminded him he may lose the scholarship he couldn't afford to lose. Two weeks to go and everyone had been studying for months. He thought he was screwed and he was ready to skip it all together. It was the third year of high school and we were still together back then. I remembered vividly what I had told him, because for a moment I had regretted it. It was admittedly not my brightest moment.

'Don't be stupid. I told you don't be stupid.' I laugh dryily. Dumb teen advice, but it had worked. He studied as much as he was able to for couple of weeks. His grade wasn't perfect, but respectable. More than he'd hoped for when he was sure he'd fail and lose his scholarship. It turned out that he had pretty good recall from listening in class, and reviewing the most important concepts every day in the span of 2 weeks instead of doing it gradually in months, was intense, but not at all ineffective. He ended up getting enough to keep his scholarship that year.

'So?' I say, annoyed at the memory. We had been friends, pretty good friends. We'd studied together those 2 weeks, every single night. I had forgiven him for being a s**tty boyfriend. I hadn't forgiven him for betraying me as a friend.

'So, we're not friends or anything. But Star-' He pauses at my obvious annoyance at the nickname- 'Mer- don't be stupid.'

I sip few more sip of the golden liquid. 'Too damn late.' Why do you care? I wonder that, bitter and annoyed, but I don't ask. That question opens him up for way too may emotional conversations I no longer want to be bothered with.

'Not really. Just go explain. Ask for one more shot.'

I take another sip, not wanting him to be right. This is not high school. I can't just explain like it fixes anything. If you can't put aside your drama for an exam that you have known for months, how can you do so in surgery? No one would understand. I don't.

'I have to go meet Hannah, but listen, can you do me one more favor?' I push aside my annoyance. Good that he has Hannah and doesn't have to bother with me, but also it makes me feel jealous. Not of him, but for him, having a healthy love life. How is it that he's moving on and growing up like everything is cool, and I'm the bitter one unable to move on? I'd been unable to move on before they ever came back. Before I chose to come back to all the skeletons I buried in the past. And him, he was completely fine. How is that fair?

I raise my eyes, just enough so he knows I'm listening.

'You don't have to talk to me. But call my sister. This is her current number.' He writes it on a napkin and slides it towards me.

'Isabel? Why?'

I remember a fiesty girl 3 years younger than me with heart shaped face, pink lips and the same thick brown curls like his. She wasn't exceptionally looking, but she was more charming than some more beautiful girls when she smiled. And she was strongest in her family. While Ben and his father had been depressed and drifting after his mom's death, shed been the glue of the family, doing the chores, making sure everyone was fed and eventually hounding both of them into grief counseling.

'What does she have to do with anything?'

'Just promise to see her. Once. Half an hour. That's all.'

I don't know why, but he seems too serious and I nod. I liked Isabel, though I never kept in touch after my relationship broke up. She was too young to hear all details. I was too young. Still am. I'm not sure of his reasoning. I don't particularly care. But he has an expression that makes me say yes, for whatever reason.

'Fine', I grunt, which between us right now is as good as promising. 'But after New year, ok.'

'Just promise.' he says critically. I nod.

'Whatever.'

He pays for both drinks and heads for the door before I have a chance to object. He turns before he reaches the door

'And-'

''Don't be stupid, I got it.' I snicker in amusement beyong myself. That saying had eventually become our code for pushing beyond our fears, in spite of them. Once upon a time, in another lifetime. I shake my head. Did Ben just give me good advice? Something warm that I thought was lost forever settles in my chest. We're still not friends. But now I know exactly what to do. A little later though. I can still use some more drinks. I sigh, and get back to the scotch.