fic: grey's alternate universe
Izzie has a thing for drummers, which is fine when it's someone else's cymbal monkey in the back of the van. But Izzie's feelings have cost Ten Blade two founding members and stuck them with her current drummer boy who cannot keep time to save his life. After three takes of "Fake Mommy" with Denny a step behind, Cristina's had enough. "Out," she says, pointing with her Fender to the door.
"You can't just kick him out," Izzie says, going shrill. "Mere, tell her."
Meredith's fingers run reflexively on the bass, and she blows pink bangs from her eyes. "He's gotta keep up," she says, because it really is that simple.
Sloan's rumbled, "Find a new drummer by Wednesday," from the control booth seals it, and Denny is gone with little fanfare.
Still, that puts them one full day behind schedule on the album, at best. And without a back beat. "Is Callie still in Germany?" Meredith asks.
"She's back, but I don't..." Callie is collateral damage from the O'Malley disaster, and Cristina just shakes her head.
"Bailey can find someone," Meredith says, and while it's true their manager, Miranda Bailey, could make almost anyone do almost anything, Cristina isn't sure they'll like the results.
"No," Izzie says. "No one's calling Bailey." Izzie pauses, then gets that look. The one that says she's made up her mind, no matter the fall out. "Find Alex."
Meredith's face is this weird combination of shell shocked and heart sick. It's a look she wears almost as well as her Chucks. Cristina says, "Like hell," because they barely survived it the last time.
"Do you have a better idea?" Izzie asks, her eyes all wet and searching, and Cristina feels herself sinking. She doesn't say no, but it's implied.
"Even if I find him," Meredith says.
"When you find him," Izzie says, and she's right. Alex is a master of getting lost, but Meredith never fails to find him.
"What makes you think he'll come back?" Meredith asks.
Izzie just nods like it's a done deal, and maybe it is. Because when it comes to Izzie, Alex can't seem to say no.
Meredith and Alex have been under for three days when it happens. All Meredith wants is a handful of ibuprofen, a hot shower, and her bed at Grace. Instead, she's face to face with an overly perky girl in scrubs saying, "You're Meredith Grey."
It's not a question, but Meredith's not getting burned in a Safeway after three years of carefully crafted anonymity. Behind her, she can feel Alex bracing. He's already got crazy eyes, because 72 hours of being Sonny puts Alex in an especially bad place. Every time.
"Sorry, wrong girl," Meredith says, pushing back to the coolers.
The girl is Lexie, Thatcher Grey's daughter Lexie, second year resident, with half of Meredith's DNA. Meredith knows where Lexie works, where she sleeps and who she sleeps with because Meredith is thorough even on subjects she'd rather avoid. Particularly if those subjects could cost her her cover.
Lexie is following all the way to the frozen burritos. "Look," Meredith lays a hand on Lexie's chest. "Usually, I'd be happy to be Meredith or any girl you'd like." She pitches her voice low. "But tonight, I'm with someone, and he doesn't share." She nods at Alex who looks plenty menacing even as he's got his hands full of Doritos.
"My mistake," Lexie says, but her eyes say just the opposite. This is going to be a problem.
When they get to Grace, Alex is pulling off clothes before they're out of the driveway. So much for a shower. Alex will be scrubbing at the scent of junk for the next half hour.
"Nudist," Cristina calls from the porch, as he pounds up the stairs. She holds out her beer to Meredith. "What's with you?"
"I have a sister," she says.
When Meredith gets hit, she thinks, "Don't freak out, Viper. Don't freak." Because if Viper starts talking, they're both dead. Luckily, Viper hauls his CI ass out of there, fast. If she's quiet, and the bullet in her stomach keeps bleeding, Meredith might just look like arm candy caught in the wrong place, wrong time.
Or, she could bleed out. "Crap," she says, her fingers slick on her phone keypad.
Meredith wakes up to whispering. Angry whispering.
"She's not a Jane Doe!"
"No objectivity, here, Grey."
"Shh," Meredith says. "Headache."
"That's probably the concussion. Do you know where you are?" Very attractive doctor says, smiling. Which would normally be nice, in a hazy post anesthesia way, but Meredith can feel Lexie vibrating beside the bed with Iknowyouyou'remysisterIknowyou!! in her throat. Of course she's in Lexie's hospital. Which is, incidentally, her mother's hospital. Ex-hospital. Either way, Bailey's going to kill her.
"Hospital," she creaks. And he's getting her water with a bendy straw before she can think it.
"Lucky guess," he says, smiling again.
"Very flirty hospital," she says, because she's high and he's pretty. She reads his coat when he leans to shine a penlight in her eyes. "Derek Shepherd, MD." She reads his coat out loud apparently.
Lexie's face is a ridiculous shade of red. "You almost died! And I don't know things about you. Important things. Allergies, blood type. I mean, I know your picture. And I know about your Mom and I should know...I want to know," she trails off.
She's going to need a new assignment anyway. Bailey will see to that. And she's not heartless. "Special Agent Meredith Grey, FBI." Meredith says to both of them. "And you're Lexie. Thatcher's daughter."
"You know me?" Lexie asks.
Meredith nods, wincing a little when she tries to sit up. "You know me. I know you."
"You knew me before? When I-- You knew me? And you just lied to my face?" Lexie's yelling, tears falling down her cheeks.
"It's my job to know who you are," Meredith says.
"Your job." Lexie nods slowly. "Didn't you ever wonder about me?"
No, she doesn't say. Because she didn't. Not in the "I want to know you" way Lexie means. Mostly, Meredith wonders why she wasn't enough for her father to stay. And sometimes, there's just the feeling that maybe she's lonelier than she has to be. "I'm sorry," Meredith says.
Lexie looks at her, opens her mouth, then closes it again. "Me too," she says. And walks out the door.
If Derek notices Meredith wiping a tear from her cheek, he doesn't say. Instead, he scribbles something in her chart and says, "When you're up for it, you have a very angry, very persistent visitor. Agent Yang?"
Meredith can't help the smile. "Cristina broke protocol?"
"She threatened my life. And my balls. Is that protocol?"
"No," she says," "That's Cristina."
George's first mail call at Fort Sam brings two letters from his mom and an unexpected birthday card from Lexie.
"I know it's not your birthday," she writes. "But it was either this or 'Get Well Soon' and I thought you'd like the balloons."
On the back of the card is a hurried p.s. "Meredith got married by Post-It. Is that legal?"
Izzie prefers email sent from her phone. Rapid fire questions George can't answer fast enough, so he stops trying. "Are you ok?" he asks. Izzie's only answer is a picture of Cristina with her mouth full. George decides this is acceptable for now.
He's good at the no sleep, following orders thing. All part of his previous basic training per Dr. Bailey. She calls once, just before he ships out. "O'Malley, are you alive?"
Seattle Grace poses a greater statistical risk of bombing, poisoning or emotional trauma than Officer training, but George just says, "Yes ma'am."
"Good," she says. "Stay that way."
Alex doesn't write letters, but George hears Alex in his head anyway. "Dude, don't get your balls blown off." Practical advice like that. It goes without saying George is counting on Alex to take care of Izzie, to make sure George has a best friend to come back to. So George doesn't say it.
Meredith sends a box full of shaving cream and white socks just before Christmas. "Owen said these would come in handy," she says. "Miss you."