What Do You Hear in These Sounds? part 7
Author: Carsonfiles
Timeline: Follows canon roughly around Time After Time (3:20) through end of Season 3. Then A/U (or I'll be really freaked out next fall) Current chapter roughly around Time After Time
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, but if Shonda doesn't quit bending them in ways they weren't meant to bend, I might have to confiscate them.
Summary: It's not just the interns who need therapy. Checking in with Derek and The Interns Eat Lunch.
Point of Reference
Meredith wanted to run. Walking into the space formerly occupied by Accounts Payable with Addison hadn’t been bad; they managed to work together without incident. But having spent the last hour going over the ups and downs of her relationship with Derek. . .ups and downs? More like a graph of Oprah’s weight over the last 20 years. More ups and downs than the best roller coaster she’d ever been on, but worth the ride. Since she’d maxed out her time at the hospital, she didn’t have to rush back to Bailey for a new assignment, check on a patient, go deal with scutwork in the pit. . .she was on her own. She held back until Addison finished her whispered conversation with the receptionist, and then went forward to set her own appointment. What was that girl’s name again?
That business taken care of she went to the elevator and rode down to the surgical floor to look at the board. Odd to be purposeless in this building. She had about an hour to kill before everyone else would probably be eating lunch, and she didn’t feel like going home yet. OR1. She went to the gallery and stood, leaning her head against the window, watching the room below. She wasn’t watching a surgery that would change the world or the practice of medicine; she was simply making contact with a touchstone. A point of reference. Sometimes her life felt like she was sitting in a train in the station, looking out the window, waiting to move. Other trains were in the station, their passengers doing the same waiting. Then one train moves. And sometimes she couldn’t tell which train was moving, if her train was pulling out or if the train next to her was moving backwards. Or maybe she was moving backwards when she thought the train on the next track was going ahead. She couldn’t tell. Until she found a point of reference, some stability to gauge her movement by. And her point of reference was in the operating room below.
The speaker next to her crackled. “Dr. Grey.” The voice startled her out of her reverie, and she made eye contact with the surgeon below.
“Dr. Shepherd. I’m in the gallery. Communicating.”
“Yes, you are, Dr. Grey. How did your morning go?” Derek turned back to his surgery, but Meredith could tell he was waiting for her answer.
“Ummmmmm,” she smiled, really wanting to go there. But she didn’t want to push him right now, things had been so tense lately. “This morning was good. It was good. And now? I’m going to get lunch with Christina, and then I’m going home. See? Communicating. And? Breathing on my own.” She made sure to smile extra broadly, just in case he missed the smile in her voice.
Maybe he had, because his head whipped back around, but when he saw her exaggerated grin, he grinned back from behind his mask, the smile fully taking over his eyes. And forehead. How does he smile with his forehead? She blew him a kiss, and went in search of her person. Her person was probably freaking out about now.
Lunchtime
Meredith was finishing her chicken salad and apple by the time Christina’s tray slammed down on the table. She was saving her yogurt for last, because the cafeteria never had blackberry, ever. Except today they did.
“So, did you know that if you have an appointment with one of these people, that bumps you out of a surgery?” Christina seemed to be at a consistent simmer these days, just a hair short of angry-as-hell. “Apparently the rapists come before practicing medicine.”
“I’m sorry. . .what did you say?” Meredith had heard, but she wanted to make sure she heard.
Christina opened her yogurt. “I can’t say the word ‘therapist’ without putting a space after the first three letters. Because it’s just a chance for someone to screw with your mind.” She licked the top of the container before putting it on Meredith’s tray. “Speaking of, how did your mind-fuck go this morning?” She picked up Meredith’s unused spoon and dug in. “Yum. They have blackberry today. I got the last one.”
“Think about it this way. How would you explain to someone the year I’ve had, without them knowing the basics? There was so much we didn’t get to. We didn’t talk about my mom, or hardly did. We didn’t talk about Thatcher. We didn’t talk about fake mommy. We talked about Derek, mostly.” And Meredith realized that even if she had spent an hour talking about Derek, she hadn’t really gotten to the complex (fight? discussion?) whatever that was currently going on.
“Yeah, what’s going on with McDreamy? Because you’ve got your Problems with McDreamy thing happening.”
“Nothing’s going on. We’re fine.” Telling would make it true, after all, and Meredith didn’t want this to be true. Plus, she’d have to know what was going on to be able to tell Christina.
“Meredith, this is Christina. I know you; your face is the perfect barometer of your relationship. And right now, it says STORMY WEATHER.” Christina pointed her stolen spoon at Meredith. “You know you want to tell me he’s a jackass. Go for it! I need to hear someone else’s troubles.”
“Does that mean that wedding planning is going well? Have you found what you want to wear?”
Christina glared. Meredith smiled. “You know, you have this whole PO’ed bride thing, it suits you. You look good in angry.”
Christina glared.
“Forget it, Christina. It’s complicated. I don’t get it, so how can I explain it to you? Besides, hellooooo-I’ve shared enough today. You want to know how I’m doing, I’ll sign a release, you can get it from Susan Burson.”
Izzie’s tray landed on the table with a crash. “Oops!” The blonde intern was excited and flustered. “Guys, you’ll never believe this. I had to talk to Dr. Prabu, you know, Raj, for a psych consult, and he said that he was in with Mrs. Burson this morning-”
“Susan,” interrupted Meredith.
“What?” Izzie was confused.
“She’ll tell you to call her Susan,” Meredith explained.
“Okay, well, the deal is that Susan told him that she didn’t need to see him for a full four sessions before clearing him. He’s done. So maybe the same thing could happen to us?” Izzie’s grin was hopeful. She glanced down at Meredith’s tray. “Ooooh, blackberry yogurt! They never have that!”
Meredith and Christina exchanged a glance. Was Izzie ‘I Cut The LVAD’ seriously thinking that she had a chance of getting a Get Out of Therapy Free card? Just then, George joined their table, and Alex pulled up a chair as well.
“Who goes next?” Meredith wondered. “Has anyone other than me gone in? Oh, and Izzie’s friend Raj?”
Christina looked down at her watch, and jumped from the table. “I’m now. As in, 5 minutes ago. Crap. Where are they again?”
“Accounts Payable,” said Meredith. “Or where it used to be. Now I guess it’s Karma Payable.” As Christina ran from the cafeteria, Meredith leaned over and called after her, “Have fun!”
“Kind of makes you wish this were televised,” murmured George. “Not that I’d want my session public knowledge, but. . .seeing Christina share. . .that’d be worth it.”
He looked up and realized that he’d spoken out loud. Izzie and Meredith were both looking at him horrified. “No. . .NO! No, I wouldn’t want mine televised! That would be bad, very bad. So never mind.”
“Dude,” Alex was grinning, “You were right the first time. I would love to know what’s going on inside that brain of hers.”
“It’s probably a very cold place,” said Izzie. “Cold. . .and dark. With spiders.”
“Hey.” Meredith’s voice interrupted the other’s group reverie on the steely interior of Christina’s psyche. “We should plan something for Saturday. I’m on until 11p, but don’t you two get off at 7?” She gestured at Alex and Izzie.
Alex looked at her confused. “You mean a party, like the one that I wasn’t invited to at the beginning of the year?”
“No, because I still haven’t forgiven Izzie for that. Mostly because that’s when I was caught by Bailey wearing Derek’s shirt. No, just, I don’t know. Not a party. A hanging out. We could watch some tapes, eat pizza? Because I have another session with Susan on Saturday morning. We won’t have to make it a thing, you know. Just. . .hang out. Not the entire hospital staff. Just us.” Meredith didn’t know why she thought this was a good idea. Usually the hanging was spontaneous, whether it was at her house or at Joe’s. But now that the suggestion was out there, she hoped that the rest of them thought it was a good idea too.
“Um. . .” George hesitated. “I think I get done at 8, because of hours. So yeah.”
“Oh, and bring Callie, George.” Meredith hoped that Izzie could be civil for the evening. “Alex, how does that sound?”
“I’ll have to see, it depends on what Eva is up to. How her kid is.” Alex sounded evasive, but only Meredith seemed to notice. And he avoided her eyes.
“Ok, so I’ll make that chocolate cake, right Mer? Or should we do cookies? Yay, a party!” Meredith realized how excited Izzie had gotten, and needed to do damage control.
“Just us, Izzie. I mean it. I am not going to want a big thing, so if you want me there, don’t invite the whole hospital. Just us. Just the family.” Meredith pointed her yogurt at Izzie. “If the house is full, I’m not going to show up.” She looked around at the rest of the table. “No big party, and just enough booze to keep Christina there. Clear?”
Alex swallowed his deli sandwich. “So, what, you and Shepherd having problems? Because, you know you could tell me. And I would comfort you. I’m a comforting guy.”
Meredith picked up a fry from George’s tray and threw it at Alex. “No, you’re the Evil Spawn. You’re Dirty Uncle Sal. We’re wise to you.” She picked up another fry, started to throw it, then reconsidered and ate it herself, followed by three more. Then she began to rummage around the debris on her own tray, looking confused.
“Hey! Where the hell is my spoon?”
Previous Chapters
1-- I don't go to therapy to find out if I'm a freak
2-- I go and I find the one and only answer every week
3-- And it's just me and all the memories to follow
4-- Down any course that fits within a fifty-minute hour
5-- And we fathom all the mysteries, explicit and inherent
6--W When I hit a rut, she says to try the other parent
Timeline: Follows canon roughly around Time After Time (3:20) through end of Season 3. Then A/U (or I'll be really freaked out next fall) Current chapter roughly around Time After Time
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, but if Shonda doesn't quit bending them in ways they weren't meant to bend, I might have to confiscate them.
Summary: It's not just the interns who need therapy. Checking in with Derek and The Interns Eat Lunch.
Point of Reference
Meredith wanted to run. Walking into the space formerly occupied by Accounts Payable with Addison hadn’t been bad; they managed to work together without incident. But having spent the last hour going over the ups and downs of her relationship with Derek. . .ups and downs? More like a graph of Oprah’s weight over the last 20 years. More ups and downs than the best roller coaster she’d ever been on, but worth the ride. Since she’d maxed out her time at the hospital, she didn’t have to rush back to Bailey for a new assignment, check on a patient, go deal with scutwork in the pit. . .she was on her own. She held back until Addison finished her whispered conversation with the receptionist, and then went forward to set her own appointment. What was that girl’s name again?
That business taken care of she went to the elevator and rode down to the surgical floor to look at the board. Odd to be purposeless in this building. She had about an hour to kill before everyone else would probably be eating lunch, and she didn’t feel like going home yet. OR1. She went to the gallery and stood, leaning her head against the window, watching the room below. She wasn’t watching a surgery that would change the world or the practice of medicine; she was simply making contact with a touchstone. A point of reference. Sometimes her life felt like she was sitting in a train in the station, looking out the window, waiting to move. Other trains were in the station, their passengers doing the same waiting. Then one train moves. And sometimes she couldn’t tell which train was moving, if her train was pulling out or if the train next to her was moving backwards. Or maybe she was moving backwards when she thought the train on the next track was going ahead. She couldn’t tell. Until she found a point of reference, some stability to gauge her movement by. And her point of reference was in the operating room below.
The speaker next to her crackled. “Dr. Grey.” The voice startled her out of her reverie, and she made eye contact with the surgeon below.
“Dr. Shepherd. I’m in the gallery. Communicating.”
“Yes, you are, Dr. Grey. How did your morning go?” Derek turned back to his surgery, but Meredith could tell he was waiting for her answer.
“Ummmmmm,” she smiled, really wanting to go there. But she didn’t want to push him right now, things had been so tense lately. “This morning was good. It was good. And now? I’m going to get lunch with Christina, and then I’m going home. See? Communicating. And? Breathing on my own.” She made sure to smile extra broadly, just in case he missed the smile in her voice.
Maybe he had, because his head whipped back around, but when he saw her exaggerated grin, he grinned back from behind his mask, the smile fully taking over his eyes. And forehead. How does he smile with his forehead? She blew him a kiss, and went in search of her person. Her person was probably freaking out about now.
Lunchtime
Meredith was finishing her chicken salad and apple by the time Christina’s tray slammed down on the table. She was saving her yogurt for last, because the cafeteria never had blackberry, ever. Except today they did.
“So, did you know that if you have an appointment with one of these people, that bumps you out of a surgery?” Christina seemed to be at a consistent simmer these days, just a hair short of angry-as-hell. “Apparently the rapists come before practicing medicine.”
“I’m sorry. . .what did you say?” Meredith had heard, but she wanted to make sure she heard.
Christina opened her yogurt. “I can’t say the word ‘therapist’ without putting a space after the first three letters. Because it’s just a chance for someone to screw with your mind.” She licked the top of the container before putting it on Meredith’s tray. “Speaking of, how did your mind-fuck go this morning?” She picked up Meredith’s unused spoon and dug in. “Yum. They have blackberry today. I got the last one.”
“Think about it this way. How would you explain to someone the year I’ve had, without them knowing the basics? There was so much we didn’t get to. We didn’t talk about my mom, or hardly did. We didn’t talk about Thatcher. We didn’t talk about fake mommy. We talked about Derek, mostly.” And Meredith realized that even if she had spent an hour talking about Derek, she hadn’t really gotten to the complex (fight? discussion?) whatever that was currently going on.
“Yeah, what’s going on with McDreamy? Because you’ve got your Problems with McDreamy thing happening.”
“Nothing’s going on. We’re fine.” Telling would make it true, after all, and Meredith didn’t want this to be true. Plus, she’d have to know what was going on to be able to tell Christina.
“Meredith, this is Christina. I know you; your face is the perfect barometer of your relationship. And right now, it says STORMY WEATHER.” Christina pointed her stolen spoon at Meredith. “You know you want to tell me he’s a jackass. Go for it! I need to hear someone else’s troubles.”
“Does that mean that wedding planning is going well? Have you found what you want to wear?”
Christina glared. Meredith smiled. “You know, you have this whole PO’ed bride thing, it suits you. You look good in angry.”
Christina glared.
“Forget it, Christina. It’s complicated. I don’t get it, so how can I explain it to you? Besides, hellooooo-I’ve shared enough today. You want to know how I’m doing, I’ll sign a release, you can get it from Susan Burson.”
Izzie’s tray landed on the table with a crash. “Oops!” The blonde intern was excited and flustered. “Guys, you’ll never believe this. I had to talk to Dr. Prabu, you know, Raj, for a psych consult, and he said that he was in with Mrs. Burson this morning-”
“Susan,” interrupted Meredith.
“What?” Izzie was confused.
“She’ll tell you to call her Susan,” Meredith explained.
“Okay, well, the deal is that Susan told him that she didn’t need to see him for a full four sessions before clearing him. He’s done. So maybe the same thing could happen to us?” Izzie’s grin was hopeful. She glanced down at Meredith’s tray. “Ooooh, blackberry yogurt! They never have that!”
Meredith and Christina exchanged a glance. Was Izzie ‘I Cut The LVAD’ seriously thinking that she had a chance of getting a Get Out of Therapy Free card? Just then, George joined their table, and Alex pulled up a chair as well.
“Who goes next?” Meredith wondered. “Has anyone other than me gone in? Oh, and Izzie’s friend Raj?”
Christina looked down at her watch, and jumped from the table. “I’m now. As in, 5 minutes ago. Crap. Where are they again?”
“Accounts Payable,” said Meredith. “Or where it used to be. Now I guess it’s Karma Payable.” As Christina ran from the cafeteria, Meredith leaned over and called after her, “Have fun!”
“Kind of makes you wish this were televised,” murmured George. “Not that I’d want my session public knowledge, but. . .seeing Christina share. . .that’d be worth it.”
He looked up and realized that he’d spoken out loud. Izzie and Meredith were both looking at him horrified. “No. . .NO! No, I wouldn’t want mine televised! That would be bad, very bad. So never mind.”
“Dude,” Alex was grinning, “You were right the first time. I would love to know what’s going on inside that brain of hers.”
“It’s probably a very cold place,” said Izzie. “Cold. . .and dark. With spiders.”
“Hey.” Meredith’s voice interrupted the other’s group reverie on the steely interior of Christina’s psyche. “We should plan something for Saturday. I’m on until 11p, but don’t you two get off at 7?” She gestured at Alex and Izzie.
Alex looked at her confused. “You mean a party, like the one that I wasn’t invited to at the beginning of the year?”
“No, because I still haven’t forgiven Izzie for that. Mostly because that’s when I was caught by Bailey wearing Derek’s shirt. No, just, I don’t know. Not a party. A hanging out. We could watch some tapes, eat pizza? Because I have another session with Susan on Saturday morning. We won’t have to make it a thing, you know. Just. . .hang out. Not the entire hospital staff. Just us.” Meredith didn’t know why she thought this was a good idea. Usually the hanging was spontaneous, whether it was at her house or at Joe’s. But now that the suggestion was out there, she hoped that the rest of them thought it was a good idea too.
“Um. . .” George hesitated. “I think I get done at 8, because of hours. So yeah.”
“Oh, and bring Callie, George.” Meredith hoped that Izzie could be civil for the evening. “Alex, how does that sound?”
“I’ll have to see, it depends on what Eva is up to. How her kid is.” Alex sounded evasive, but only Meredith seemed to notice. And he avoided her eyes.
“Ok, so I’ll make that chocolate cake, right Mer? Or should we do cookies? Yay, a party!” Meredith realized how excited Izzie had gotten, and needed to do damage control.
“Just us, Izzie. I mean it. I am not going to want a big thing, so if you want me there, don’t invite the whole hospital. Just us. Just the family.” Meredith pointed her yogurt at Izzie. “If the house is full, I’m not going to show up.” She looked around at the rest of the table. “No big party, and just enough booze to keep Christina there. Clear?”
Alex swallowed his deli sandwich. “So, what, you and Shepherd having problems? Because, you know you could tell me. And I would comfort you. I’m a comforting guy.”
Meredith picked up a fry from George’s tray and threw it at Alex. “No, you’re the Evil Spawn. You’re Dirty Uncle Sal. We’re wise to you.” She picked up another fry, started to throw it, then reconsidered and ate it herself, followed by three more. Then she began to rummage around the debris on her own tray, looking confused.
“Hey! Where the hell is my spoon?”
Previous Chapters
1-- I don't go to therapy to find out if I'm a freak
2-- I go and I find the one and only answer every week
3-- And it's just me and all the memories to follow
4-- Down any course that fits within a fifty-minute hour
5-- And we fathom all the mysteries, explicit and inherent
6--W When I hit a rut, she says to try the other parent