Closer
Sometimes one just needs to feel somebody a little bit closer.
You're seriously tired because you've accidentally chosen sides in an Alex-versus-Izzie conflict that you wish had never actually happened because you could really and truly use a friend right about now.
You see your ex-Derek walking around the halls adjacent to his very tall and intimidating wife, and you can't help but scoff no matter how much they seem to squabble about squirrels, and ferns, and trailers and things.
Cristina's quintuplet has an omphalocele, which means its organs are on the outside of its body, which is cool, but yours doesn't seem to have a clear path to doom nor a clear path to achieving its full healthiness, either.
The mom's story breaks your heart because you really can't imagine having that many children to care for at once, but then again, you're not even thirty yet so maybe that'll change by the time you actually want to have kids, which would mean you'd probably want to have them with another somebody, which means you'd probably have to stop pining over McDreamy at some point, and you're not sure whether or not you're willing to abandon that fantasy yet.
So, you're stuck all alone in the NICU until the early hours of the evening, and Izzie's here but she's not talking to you, so you're talking to Charlotte, your quint, and you're trying not to look up, because you know if you do, that you'll be staring into her eyes, and you know that you definitely can't handle that at all this evening.
So you try to give the mom hope and all, and you watch this baby struggle to breathe, and you think that sometimes you feel that you can hardly breathe, and what makes you feel better again is to be held close, like in a cocoon, of blankets maybe, but even better a person.
And that's when it strikes you- maybe you can give Charlotte a buddy, and maybe that'll make her feel better.
"Dr. Montgomery Shepherd, I have an idea..." you check it over with her, because you don't want to do something drastic without asking the Ruler-Of-All-That-Is-Satan, but she nods at you, and she seems to be willing to give it a shot, so you untangle the cords and re-hook them next to one of the other quint's incubators, and you lie Charlotte gently down next to her twin sibling.
"They do this sometimes with twins... Nobody really knows why... But it helps..." you ramble, as you see the baby's sat's are climbing. It's a relief, really, that the baby is recovering, and you've definitely not made it worse for the wear.
"Nice save, Dr. Grey," Addison smiles at you approvingly, and you can't help but bow under her gaze, whilst simultaneously puffing your chest out a little in pride, and feeling a swell of an unidentifiable feeling, a tingly-good feeling under the redhead's piercing green eyes.
"Thank you..." you whisper quietly, as you watch her fawn over the little ones.
They are sweet, and they are her passion, and you notice she has this special glint in her eyes when she looks at the babies.
If you didn't have to try so hard to be indignant at here mere and utter existence, it would probably make you smile, but you're consciously not letting it do that to you.
Addison's still smiling at you, and you're smiling at the babies, but you're still facing her, so it looks as though you're smiling at her, and she's smiling back at you, and suddenly she drops your gaze, and then you sort of feel lost again.
"You know, they really do seem cozy in there, don't they," Addison says, admiring them still.
"Yeah," you nod and agree because she's right. The babies are warm and safe together under their little baby hats, and it sort of makes you wish you were snuggled under a blanket with someone nice beside you.