Outside of Fear

Chapter Seventeen

"How do you feel today?" Megan asks gently.

"Can we just skip the small talk and get on with the actual physical therapy? Too many people have asked me that." Meredith replies. A week after Ellis's death, the ashes of the famous surgeon now rest in the back of Meredith's closet at Derek's house, and somehow, Meredith feels a lot better. 

Probably because she discovered a box of about fifty journals.

Ellis's journals.

Meredith's mother wrote down everything. Every single one of these plain black journals is filled from cover to cover with thoughts, plans, and ideas. Meredith has barely had time to read any of them, and she's reading them in order. They're dated and perfectly organized.

These are giving Meredith an insight to Ellis's mind. More and more, she's beginning to understand her mom. The more she reads, the more Meredith realizes that, had she not been her daughter, she probably would have loved Ellis.

As Megan begins assigning Meredith PT exercises, the Marine's mind wanders, mostly absorbed in thoughts about Ellis.

Most of her thoughts have been about Ellis this past week. That, and dealing with the dreams about the bombing that came every night.

George's face is constantly in her mind. The faces of the Marines she knew at camp- the ones who died. 

She hasn't told Derek. But it's a miracle he hasn't picked up on her inability to sleep, concentrate, and constantly being on high-guard.

Meredith is exhausted all the time. Physically and emotionally. She doesn't know what to do.

Derek works a long shift today, so after an hour of PT, Meredith heads to the small cafe down the street from the hospital and sits at a table with a man she barely recognizes in casual clothes.

"Hey, Mike," she smiles softly as she sits, settling into the very comfortable chair at their table of two.

This is the first time since hearing about Ellis's death that Michael has been able to step away from work and check on his friend. "What's up, Death? How's it going?"

She shrugs. "About as well as can be expected, I guess."

He nods. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Meredith knows exactly what he's saying, without any words. She's grateful that he decides not to push her on this. 

"You know, my dad was a Marine too. He died when I was fifteen."

"Yeah."

Michael nods, taken by memories. "Losing a parent is never easy, no matter the relationship status."

Meredith nods, showing respect for the fallen soldier for a quiet moment before changing the subject. "I found her old journals. I've been reading them."

"Really?"

"It's- I just, it's crazy. There's so much I never knew about her, and I'm only three in. They cover so many years of her life."

"It's good that you have something of hers."

"I-I'm mad, though, Mike. I'm mad I found these just a few days too late. Had I known- had I read these before she died,  I..." Meredith trails off, thinking about the possibilities it could have opened for her and her mother.

"I know Death, I get that. You don't have an outlet for that anymore, either."

During her deployments, whenever Meredith had any feelings that were just too much to deal with, she took to the gym. Mostly fighting. She would strap on the boxing gloves and just hit the punching bags for hours until she felt okay.