SIX - The Fracture
Meredith was hungry. She wasn't superhuman, or immune to pain—just accustomed to it. Pushing away discomfort had become second nature. She was adept at pretending, masking how bad things really were. But one can only keep up a façade for so long before it starts to crack, and hers had been slipping for weeks.
When you begin to fall, you hardly even notice. If it's gradual enough, the sinking feeling becomes familiar. You don't realize how far from the top you are until the climb back up seems impossible. Meredith had clawed her way up before, with bloodied nails and bruised knees, but this time, she knew she didn't have the strength. And yet, she still tried.
She had tried so hard to function in the way everyone expected. Mentally, she kept pushing herself, but physically, her body was betraying her. She hated that Addison had been right.
She could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her like a heavy fog. She had skipped lunch again, avoiding Callie and Arizona's relentless invitations, and had only picked at her dinner the night before. Her hands trembled, the lack of food and sleep finally catching up with her and the walls of the on-call room felt closer than ever as Meredith shut the door behind her, feeling the strain of everything beginning to weigh heavily. She pressed her back against the cool wood and slid down to the floor, knees pulling tight to her chest. Her breath came in shallow bursts as she tried to suppress the panic threatening to bubble up to the surface. Why couldn't they just leave her alone?
Her mind raced back to Addison's words and they played on like a broken record in her mind.
You aren't fine, Meredith. Please, let someone help you.
You aren't fine.
Let someone help you.
Addison's tone had been so soft, so caring, yet so unrelenting in its determination. It both enraged her and left her feeling... something. Something unfamiliar. A gnawing sensation deep in her gut that she couldn't quite name but refused to acknowledge. She needed to keep control. To keep her walls high. If she didn't, the risk of falling apart completely was too real. And she wasn't sure she could ever put the pieces back together if that happened.
As she sat there, curled up on the floor, the familiar hum of the hospital filtered through the walls, yet it all seemed distant. Almost like it wasn't part of her reality. It was moments like this that she could understand why she had kept her distance from everyone for so long. She didn't need this. She didn't need them. Their concern was suffocating her, even if, deep down, she could admit it felt nice to have someone care. But there was a price to that concern, a vulnerability she wasn't ready to show anyone. Especially not Addison Montgomery.
Meredith's phone vibrated softly in her scrub pocket. Pulling it out, the screen lights up to illuminate a text from Cristina.
Cristina: Joe's later?
Meredith smiled slightly at the screen. Cristina's directness had always been a source of comfort, her ability to cut through the noise of everything with such ease. Unlike everyone else, Cristina never hovered, never demanded more than what Meredith could give.
Meredith: Definitely.
It didn't take long for a reply.
Cristina: Drama?
Meredith sighed as she typed back.
Meredith: Being stalked by Satan and her cronies.
Cristina: What does she want?
Meredith hesitated. How could she explain that? How could she put into words what was happening between her and Addison? It wasn't just professional. It hadn't been professional in weeks. But how could she admit that?
Meredith: Long story. Drinks first, explanations second.
She shoved the phone back into her pocket, trying to push everything else out of her mind. She had to focus. Work was her escape. The rest could wait.
Meanwhile, across the hospital, Addison wasn't handling things much better. She stood in the middle of an empty stairwell, her phone gripped tightly in her hand, and her mind replaying her confrontation with Meredith. She could still see the sharpness in the young blonde's eyes, the defiance, and it hurt more than it should. Meredith had erected walls that Addison knew she wouldn't be able to break through easily. But Meredith was falling apart right in front of her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
Leaning against the railing, Addison pinched the bridge of her nose. She had been a fool to let her emotions get the better of her. Maybe Bailey was right—maybe she had gotten too involved, too personally invested. But it was impossible not to feel that way. Meredith wasn't just another intern, not to her.
She flipped open her phone and scrolled to Callie's number, her thumb hovering over the dial button. She needed backup. She couldn't keep making these decisions on her own. As much as she tried to handle it, she felt the weight of it pulling her down more each day. Before she could second-guess herself, she pressed dial.
Callie picked up almost immediately.
"Addie, what's up?"
Addison bit her lip, trying to find the right words. "I confronted Meredith."
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Callie spoke again, her voice cautious. "How'd that go?"
"She told me to call off the dogs."
"Oh," Callie sighed, the sound of footsteps shuffling on the other end. "So, not well then?"
"No." Addison's tone was clipped, her frustration coming through. "She's still pretending everything's fine, and I don't know what to do anymore, Callie. I'm at a loss."
"Well, you didn't really expect her to just... open up, did you?"
"I don't know what I expected." Addison's voice dropped, her exhaustion evident. "But she's not fine, and we all know it. And I think—" Addison hesitated, unsure if she should say what she was thinking. "I think I'm making things worse."
Callie was quiet for a moment, and when she finally spoke, her tone was more serious. "Addie, you're trying to help her. That's what matters."
"But it's not working."
"So we try something different."
"I just don't know what that is," Addison whispered.
"Listen," Callie said firmly. "Let me talk to her. You've been doing most of the heavy lifting, and maybe she just needs a different approach. Arizona and I can ease off a bit, but we're not letting her fall, okay? We're in this with you."
Addison exhaled slowly, the knot in her chest loosening slightly. "Thanks, Callie. I just... I don't want to push her further away."
"You won't. We'll figure it out."
As they ended the call, Addison felt a flicker of relief, but it was quickly followed by the weight of responsibility settling back in. She knew that something had to give, and soon. But she was terrified of what would happen when it finally did.
Later that evening, Meredith found herself at Joe's Bar, a half-empty glass of tequila in front of her and Cristina sitting across from her, already deep into her own drink. The bar was dimly lit, offering them the anonymity they both craved as Cristina ranted about Teddy again.
Cristina tilted her glass in Meredith's direction inviting her to spill.
Meredith took a long sip before replying, "It's just Addison."
"That's vague," Cristina replied, raising an eyebrow.
"She's—she's too much. And Callie and Arizona are acting like... I don't know, like I'm some fragile thing that's going to shatter any second."
Cristina snorted. "Well are you?"
Meredith bristled.
"No! But it's like they're all watching me, waiting for me to mess up, and it's exhausting."
Cristina studied her, her expression unreadable. "So, what are you going to do?"
Meredith shrugged, feeling the familiar frustration building. "What can I do? I can't make them stop. And the more I push back, the more they push forward."
"You could try not pushing everyone away," Cristina said, her tone blunt.
Meredith shot her a glare. "That's not helpful."
"Look, you hate people worrying about you, I get it. But maybe, just maybe, you could let someone in for once? Don't think I don't know that you're hiding things from me too."
Meredith's expression hardened, her defense mechanisms rising immediately. "You sound like them."
Cristina rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying let them coddle you. I'm saying stop fighting it like it's the plague. You're drowning, and you won't even admit it."
Meredith clenched her jaw, anger flashing through her. "I'm fine."
Cristina shook her head. "No, you're not. But whatever. Keep pretending. See how long it lasts."
Meredith looked away, staring down at her drink. She wanted to argue, but the truth was, deep down, she knew Cristina was right.
But admitting that? That was a step she wasn't ready to take.
Not yet.