The past hits

I don't recognize you anymore

It had been a week since Meredith had that panic attack in front of Derek. They hadn't spoken much after that encounter, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words and fractured trust.

"Dr. Grey!" A voice called down the hallway, snapping Meredith out of her thoughts. She turned to see Derek approaching.

"Dr. Grey, I, uh, need a consult. Can you come with me?"

Meredith's brow furrowed in confusion. "Uh, yeah, sure," she said, hesitating before following him down the hallway to an exam room. When they arrived and Derek opened the door, no one was inside.

"I thought you needed a consult?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

"I don't, actually. But before you go, please just listen to me," he said, grabbing her wrist. She flinched, wincing in pain.

"Sorry about that. Anyway, we haven't talked since... you know," he said, eyes searching hers.

"I know that," she replied, her tone harsh and defensive.

"Alright, Meredith, I am so done with you. I don't recognize you anymore. You've changed, and not in a good way," he snapped, voice rising.

"Really? You changed me BECAUSE YOU LEFT ME!" she yelled, the anger boiling over.

"Oh, just because you're cutting yourself doesn't mean you get to be the victim," he retorted, his voice harsh and unforgiving.

The silence that followed was deafening, heavy with the weight of what had been said.

"Derek..." she whispered, the shock on her face turning to hurt. He realized then, too late, how badly he had hurt her. She turned and almost ran from the exam room. As she passed, people on the floor looked at her with wide, concerned eyes. The stares and whispers burned, but she didn't care.

"Why are you looking at me? Get back to work!" she snapped, voice sharp. She walked into her office, locking the door behind her and searching for her ten-blade.

TW

Her hands were shaking as she cut. First, her wrists, the sharp pain searing into her skin. Then, she pulled up her pants and moved to her thighs, slicing over and over until the red welts left a trail of blood. The sharpness of it was grounding, a distraction from the chaos in her mind. A knock at the door startled her, making her flinch and cut deeper.

"Ouch," she breathed out, her voice cracking. Quickly, she pulled up her pants, covering her wrists, and stood to answer the door.

"Mer... you okay? Everyone heard what happened between you and Shepherd," Alex said, worry clouding his expression.

"Oh, uh, y-yeah. I'm completely and utterly fine," she tried to smile, but the cracks in her voice gave her away. Alex's eyes searched hers, noticing the sheen of tears welling up. He stepped forward, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Oh, Mer, you'll be okay, I promise you," he whispered.

She pulled back after a moment, wiping at her tears. "Thank you, Alex. But I'm fine now," she said, forcing a slight smile.

He nodded, his concern still evident, and left the office. Meredith walked to her desk, grabbing a chart to distract herself. On her way back, she passed a resident who stared at her, his eyes wide and uncertain.

"Why do you stare at me like that?" she snapped, her voice tinged with annoyance.

"Oh, um... your lab coat is covered in blood," he said hesitantly, nodding at the crimson stains that marred her white coat.

Meredith glanced down, noticing the blood that had seeped through her sleeves. "Oh, right. It's probably from my patient before. Thanks," she said, forcing a polite smile. The resident nodded and walked away.

"Shit," she muttered, walking back into her office and stripping off her lab coat. The deep cuts on her arms bled freely, and she grimaced as she checked the ones on her thighs. One cut in particular had bled more than the rest, and she took a shaky breath before reaching for a suture kit. She stitched up the deep gashes, carefully placing a bandage over her arm when she finished.

After a long, quiet moment, she finally left the hospital and made her way to the daycare to pick up Ellie. The day had been draining; it was already 9 PM, later than she usually worked. She knew how much it hurt Ellie when she was late, the child being forced to wait with the nurses, alone and confused. The thought made her stomach tighten.

When she walked into the daycare, a sharp pang of panic struck her heart. There, standing by the play area, was a man with Ellie in his arms.

Her blood ran cold. Why is there a man with my child?