Title: untitled
Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy
Rated E (Trigger Warnings for smut, violence, stalking, r*pe/SA)
Pairings: Addison Montgomery/Meredith Grey
Status: multi-chapter- in progress
Summary: It is not cannon compliant. It’s out of character for some characters. It will be in a nonlinear story telling format- so currently established Meredith/Addison, but the story will include how they get together. Bad guy-Derek/Derek bashing. Don’t like, don’t read.
Chapter 3- Part 2
It didn’t take long before Dr. Bailey came to talk to them about Meredith’s injuries and treatment going forward. Addison listened attentively, already mapping out the timeline and looking at her schedule for the coming months. Mostly, Meredith just stared at a spot between her feet and the end of the bed, nodding along occasionally. Now that the shock and adrenaline had worn off, the pain pulsed bright and sharp. She didn’t need to be told where her injuries were or how they were treating them when it was all still raw. She could feel them. Her body reminded her, accompanied by fragments of memories, flashes of things she’s not ready to confront but that became clearer and sharper with each injury. Hearing them listed off in clinical notes, bullet points of what she’d lived through, what was done to her, made it too real. Bailey’s voice softens to a tone that Meredith had never heard her use with her, or any of the other doctors, “You’ll get the HIV cocktail, emergency contraceptive, and STD prophylaxis, and we’ll want to do a pelvic exam before you’re discharged to ensure that the sutures and other injuries are healing appropriately.”
“Does she really need the whole course?” Addison asked. “It was Derek, he’s clean.” Meredith’s hand flinched at the first touch against her skin when Addison gently held it.
“It’s up to Dr. Grey if she wants it, but we are recommending it as a precaution,” Bailey explained, trying to be delicate but professional, “Better safe now than dealing with it later.”
Dr. Bailey tilted her head, giving Meredith room to give her decision.
“I…- I- I’m-” She heard ‘It was Derek’ echo in her mind. It was Derek, she knew him. But she never thought he would do this. If she didn’t know he could attack her like that, how much did she really know about him? She lifted her head just enough to look at Bailey, but didn’t meet her eyes. She tried again to answer but her throat was raw and her breath trembled, all that she managed was a broken sound as her voice cracked. Her battered and broken body doesn’t feel like it’s hers. It seems to fail and betray her at each turn. She dropped her eyes back to an empty spot at the foot of the bed as her hands started to tremble.
Addison instinctively moved and put herself between Meredith and Bailey. “Hey,” she called softly. She ducked her head to make eye contact with Meredith. “It’s ok, honey. You don’t have to answer right now. Okay?” Meredith manages a tight nod. “Okay,” Addison repeated and then moved back to her spot at Meredith’s side and turned back to face Bailey.
Bailey moved on to the next steps and options for the criminal case they were building. The evidence had been gathered. Callie and Bailey had given their statements. “The police would like to come and talk to you, if you’re up for it,” Bailey told her.
Meredith managed a stilted nod. She knew what came next. The corners of her eyes stung with a rush of tears. She turned her face away from them. Her chest burned with shame. She would have to not just talk strangers through what happened in that on-call room, she would have to speak every terrible detail of what Derek had done to her out loud. Her uninjured hand fisted into the hospital blanket, trembling with her fingers curled tight, as she tried not to spiral into another breakdown.
Bailey shot a concerned look over to Addison. She responded with an almost imperceptible shake of her head as she moved to sit carefully on the bed. This exchange went unnoticed by Meredith whose eyes were unfocused and still fixed on the same spot on the blanket. If this was any other case she would treat after a sexual assault she would be the one gently urging her patient to talk to the police but this was different, it was her Meredith. Addison placed a comforting hand on her back. She felt the shudder of tension that stiffened Meredith’s back and shoulders at the first graze of contact, but the familiarity of Addison’s touch softened her as she brushed her thumb in gentle, deliberate, grounding circles. “It’s okay to not be okay,” she murmured a common phrase between her and Meredith. “You’re allowed to need space, to need time, to feel whatever you feel.”
Meredith nods again, trying to find her voice that was being held down by the memories, to find the words buried beneath the pain and fear of what’s ahead that muffled her like the hand pressed tight over her mouth. “I-...” Her voice was hoarse and broke on her first try. “I-I’m sorry, Dr. Bailey… I need-... I need to stop.”
“That’s alright Meredith,” Dr. Bailey reassured her, voice thick and heavy with emotion that slammed into her so fast that she failed to keep them in check. “We can talk more when you’re feeling a little stronger. Dr. Torres and I are here to support you however we can,” She swallows hard and blinks rapidly against the building pressure behind her eyes. “We’re here for you when you’re ready.” She reached out and gripped Addison’s free hand supportively as she passed her on the way to the door.
Addison squeezed back firmly for a moment. “Thank you, Miranda,” she murmured, grateful to draw strength and steadiness from that simple gesture before letting the other woman’s hand slip from hers.
Meredith flinched at the click of the door latching. The slight movement from the jolted action shot pain through her injuries and made her suck in a harsh breath. Her body locked as the sharp wave of pain as the fast expansion of her lungs jarred her broken rib and bruised abdomen and rippled out through her body.
Addison took Meredith’s uncasted hand into both of hers and brushed her thumb in soothing circles over the back when she whimpered. “Do you need a new dose of morphine?” She asked, reaching for the pain pump button to hand her. But Meredith shook her head no. “Baby, if you’re in pain…” she trailed off as Meredith gathered her strength to say something.
“I don’t want to be impaired when the police come talk to me,” she managed to rasped out before she had to stop and swallow to soothe her throat. “I want to be able to answer their questions and tell them what I remember.” Her chest rose and fell too fast with shallow breaths that made her whole body flare with pain. She squeezed her eyes closed and a few tears spilled over her lashes. Addison reached out and stroked her hair in a soothing cadence. “I can’t… it’s all mixed up and some of it is just flashes and there’s blank spots and I don’t,” her voice trembled, breath stuttered, and tears flooded her eyes. “I don’t know what happened. I can’t remember.”
“Shhhh, Mer, slow down,” Addison grabbed a cup of water and held the straw for Meredith to take a few small sips. “Slow,” she reminded her when a sip was too big and made her cough as it went past the swollen and bruised places in her throat. Addison put a pillow in Meredith’s arms and guided it to the injured side of her ribcage, encouraging her to hold some pressure and support the area as it was jarred by the involuntary coughs. “Breathe,” she coached her through the coughing fit. It left Meredith pale and clammy with sweat, her body rigid, and her breathing restricted to tiny gasps of air. “Slow, deep breaths,” she instructed Meredith, “Keep using the pillow to brace your ribs so you can get deeper breaths.” She guided her breathing while she wiped the sweat from her forehead and neck with a cool cloth.
“I know this is all overwhelming, Mer. We’re going to take it one step at a time. No one is going to force you to do anything, okay? If you don’t want to take the morphine right now, I will go and get Miranda and get you pain management that’s not narcotics.” Addison wiped away Meredith’s tears with the back of fingers. “Just tell me what you need.”
Her touch was a careful caress and Meredith leaned into it, her eyes closed as she focused on the comforting touch. “I don’t know.” Her voice was tight and high, tiny and lost.
“You don’t have to talk to the police today.” Addison assured her. “If you’re not ready, I’ll make them leave.” She brushed her hand down the back of Meredith’s head, her fingers softly scritching along her scalp, and cradled the back of her head. “You’re in control here.” She held her reverently as she leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “Your healing and comfort are the only things you need to worry about right now.” Her lips brushed softly against Meredith’s skin. “We’ll handle everything else that comes, at your pace, when you’re ready,” she promised. A quiet moment stretched between them as Addison waits. Her presence was patient and steady as she waited for Meredith to meet her eyes. “Do you want the morphine?” she asked earnestly. Meredith nodded. Addison slipped the controller into her hand and watched her press the button. “Just rest, give yourself time,” Addison murmured.
The morphine moved fast through her veins and spread warmth as it dulled the cutting edges of the pain. Addison stayed there with her until she sank back against the pillows completely. Meredith was pulled under into a medicated sleep and still her body didn’t completely relax. A harsh tension still held in her frame, mouth pulled into a slight frown, even as Addie softly smoothed the wrinkles on her forehead from her pinched brow with her fingertips, like the only peace Meredith could find was the relief from the pain but she couldn’t escape the rest of the trauma, even in this merciful unconsciousness.
Her mind flashed to walking into the trauma bay and Meredith surrounded by doctors and nurses. The bruises, the cuts, the broken bones, and the blood. It takes her a minute to pull air into her lungs, her head crowded with Meredith’s tearful apologies and disoriented, desperate pleas for her, she had to consciously focus on breathing.
It wasn’t really surprising to her that Meredith’s memories of the assault weren’t complete; with the concussion, the trauma, and the narcotics, Addison had seen it plenty of times early in her career in the ER. She knew what she was supposed to say, the phrases and words to counsel victims through this part. But now, here with Meredith violated and hurting so deeply, she didn’t know what to do.
Images of the X-rays and scans hit her hard, through the low buzz that rumbled in her head, she heard Callie’s voice from the operating theatre. “Her index, ring, and pinky finger are laterally dislocated at the proximal interphalangeal or metacarpophalangeal joints, fractures to the scaphoid and hook of hamate, spiral fractures to the fourth and fifth metacarpals, and sprains to the elbow and shoulder; her arm was twisted behind her back and held there.” The picture her mind conjured, the thought of Meredith being held down like that elicited a fresh wave of the very specific horror she’d been experiencing since she walked into that emergency room.
Addison stood from the bed, her jaw clenched so tight that she felt the pressure in her molars, one arm wrapped tightly across her chest as the other hand clenched, digging her short, manicured nails into the heel of her palm while the backs of her fingers settled against her mouth, pressing against her lips like she was trying to hold the emotion in. Her stomach and lungs burned as her anger roiled in an acidic tempest.
Addison had to turn away so it didn’t feel that the storm of rage that howled in her chest was aimed at Meredith. It was too much, she wanted to tear the universe apart for everything Meredith had been put through. Destroy everyone that hurt her. She wanted to crush the bones in Derek’s hands, dig his eyes from the sockets, break every tooth in his mouth and gouge out his tongue, rip his dick off with her bare hands and tear out his throat with her teeth.
As she turned her head, her eyes caught Meredith’s form, small and fragile, vulnerable, in the hospital bed. She breathed deeply and willed her own tightly coiled muscles to loosen, because if she didn’t calm the devastating squall it would leave nothing of her except the ravaged devastation. But she was paralyzed there, because beneath the anger and rage, deeper and colder, was something worse: helplessness. She hadn’t been able to protect Meredith from Derek, hadn’t seen the level of danger. Now she didn’t know how to help her, she didn’t know what to do.
She swept her gaze around the room again, landing on the changes of clothes that Richard had sent up to them, neatly folded and stacked, by Patrica, Addison was sure, sitting in the extra chair pulled back into the corner. A layer on the bottom caught her eye, and she reached for it, mentally praising whoever had thought to grab the throw blanket from her office as well as their change of clothes. Addison gathered the blanket and her Columbia University sweatshirt and carefully covered Meredith with the blanket and laid the sweatshirt next to her on the pillow. Hopefully, being surrounded by the familiar smell would help her relax, even subconsciously.
A realization hit Addison hard, seizing her chest. Meredith didn’t know about Derek, they hadn’t told her that he’d gotten out of the hospital, gotten away, and hadn’t been caught. The helplessness was instant and overwhelming. Her eyes fell closed and one hand came up to roughly drag her fingertips along her brow before settling a loose fist with the heel of her thumb at the crown of her forehead. Addison knew Meredith would ask soon. She was going to have to tell her. What was she supposed to say then? How was she supposed to help Meredith with the fact that he was still out there? Derek, who she’d at one point loved and trusted, and married and that she’d hurt, and fought for and slept with. How were they supposed to heal and move forward knowing that any day he could reappear and continue to terrorize them?
As the questions and doubts crowded her brain, Addison couldn’t tell if it felt like the room was spinning or her head was spinning. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to keep Meredith safe now when she’d already failed her before? If she hadn’t seen that the man she had known and shared a life with for more than a decade could do this, how could she protect her?
Her chest was tight and burned, and she felt hot.
How could he do this to Meredith?
A ringing buzz filled her ears.
How could she have let this happen to Meredith?
Her vision blurred.
How was she going to help Meredith?
She felt nauseous.
How was she going to keep her safe?
She reached behind her for something, anything to anchor against and managed to find the small sink and supply cabinet.
What was she supposed to do now?
What was she going to do?
She didn’t know what to do.
She needed to get out of there, before her legs collapsed. She needed air.
There was a knock at the door.
Everything immediately stopped. Addison regained her balance so quickly she jolted and knocked the back of her head against the cabinet behind her. Her lungs suddenly filled with a gulp of air. Her hearing and vision cleared and legs steadied under her. Goosebumps broke out down her arms and back. She’s suddenly aware of the tears on her cheeks and the thick feeling of snot blocking her nose. Addison quickly wiped her face with the back of her hands and grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser to wipe her nose.
“Um, hey,” Cristina cleared her throat and greeted as she walked into the room.
Addison graciously took the few moments Cristina was tactfully offering to gather herself before turning to face her. She clocked the scrubs and white coat and Meredith’s surgical chart in her hands and grabbed at the chance to use her professionalism as a shield. “Dr. Yang, good morning.”
“Burke sent me to get an update before he makes rounds,” Cristina told her as they closed the space to Meredith’s bedside. “How’s she doing? Her vitals all look good,” she reviewed the chart and checked the current readings. “How’s her pain? She’s going a long time between morphine doses.”
Addison sat down in the chair that had become her citadel as she watched over Meredith for the past hours. “It was a rough morning. She’s hurting but she’s been pretty in and out since last night, she’s not using the morphine as often as she should to stay ahead of the pain,” she explained. “She was worried about talking to the detectives that need to take her statement.”
A sharp and bitter, clipped growl escaped from Cristina’s throat. “I’m not surprised,” there was a dangerous edge of rage in her voice, “not after the blowback from the rumors and gossip that spread when Stevens and O’Malley didn’t believe her and made fun of her when she first thought Derek was the one leaving the weird stalker notes and creepy pictures.”
“She’s afraid they won’t believe her,” Addison’s face fell as she said it, “and she thinks being under the influence of the narcotics when she talks to them will just make it worse. But she needs the pain meds to even be able to breathe well.” She finished with a rough, humorless laugh that collapsed as her voice trembled.
A silence fell between them as their attention turned to Meredith, still unconscious and laid out in the hospital bed. “I always told her that I would never let her live down the Perfect Twelve Year Old nickname when she wore your clothes because they swallowed her,” Cristina’s expression softened as her fingers brushed the edge of the sweatshirt Addison had put on Meredith’s pillow. “She didn’t care. She said that they smelled like you and it was comforting, it made her feel safe, even when you weren’t there. One time she just shrugged and burrowed deeper into your hoodie and smiled her dopey smile with her stupid heart eyes that she gets when she’s thinking about you.”
“And that’s when I knew,” Cristina tucked her hands into the pockets of her white coat and smirked to herself. “I know love when I see it. And I saw it. It was all over your stupid faces. I never saw it like that with Derek.”
She focused on a random spot on Meredith’s bed rather than looking at Addison while she talked about Derek. “Meredith thought that he was her one chance at love because he wanted her- Until you started showing her that she was worth more than being treated like she had to earn his attention and affection, to be respected as more than a possession. You’ve always made her feel like she was more than an option, she said that you always, enthusiastically, choose her.” She started to reach for Meredith’s hand but stopped short when she was confronted with the bruises around her person’s wrist, letting her hand fall onto the bed near her leg instead, picking at a loose stitch on the blanket. “You make her happy.”
Addison reached out and gripped Cristina’s hand on the bed, gently pulling until the younger woman would look at her again. Cristina took Addison in for the first time. Her face was composed, but she saw the strain in her jaw, the faint red in her eyes, the way her shoulders never really dropped, her muscles braced with tension. “Thank you,” Cristina said quietly. Addison nudged her hand towards Meredith’s and let Christina’s slip from hers to carefully fold around Meredith’s. “For being here with her. For staying with her and not letting her go through any of this alone. She hasn’t had many people in her life that would be there for her. Bailey said that when she found her, she just asked for you. She needed you and you showed up without a second thought, no questions asked, or expectations.”
“I love her too, Cristina,” Addison’s breath trembled as she said it. Her voice cracked, fragile but steady, “There’s nowhere else I could be.”
“She’s going to be okay,” Cristina said reassuringly, speaking it into the room like a fact that was sure to come true. “We’re here for her.” She gripped Addison’s hand, “You’ll get her through this.” She nodded with conviction and Addison returned it with much more confidence than she actually felt.