Hey guys!! Welcome to my newest story! SEASON 17 SPOILERS AHEAD, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT CAUGHT UP! I wanted to make my own rendition of Season 17, so some of it will be similar to that storyline. I'll also be adding my own parts to it. Enjoy!
MG
My fingers twitched nervous as I sat in the car, waiting. Two months had passed, but it felt like a lifetime.
I recalled the events of the last time I was in this parking lot.
He sat shrunken into the passenger seat. He looked a hollow shell of the man I once knew, once loved.
"Andrew?" I pushed softly. "It's time"
"I know that Meredith." He snarled, jerking into animation, like a badly performing puppet. His face was streaked with anger, but his eyes chipped away at the harsh exterior.
"I can't do this" His voice broke, welled up emotions bursting out of every pore.
"Yes you can." I tested confidence.
"Mer-"
"Yes you can Andrew. You have bipolar disorder. It's treatable, but you need help that I can't give you. It's two months at a treatment center or a lifetime of mental illness. You can do this"
He drew in a shaky breath, nodding. I watched as he opened the door and wheeled a suitcase into the treatment center.
Maybe I was a little harsh.
I can't imagine what Andrew is going through. Still, I certainly haven't had a walk in the park either. If it had been 10 years ago I would have resorted to tequila. Lots and lots of tequila. Instead, I drown myself in my work.
I don't remember the last time I saw my kids. Amelia and Link have been watching them for weeks. I knew it was best with COVID going on. Still, I've felt more and more like my mother.
I miss Andrew.
And Alex.
And even Owen, who had mysteriously vanished the night of his wedding.
I'm not sure what to expect from Andrew. It seems foolish to believe he'll be his old self. I glanced down at the time on my phone.
Any minute now.
AD
Group therapy sucks.
Thank God it's my final session. My eyes found the clock every few minutes, counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until my discharge.
"How do you feel?" It's what they ask every time, yet I still don't feel like answering. I mean, what am I supposed to say?
"I feel like an idiot for missing out on the most important year of residency" Or maybe:
"I feel like a jerk for abandoning the one person i've truly loved"
One again my mind drifted to Meredith. The simple thought of her has kept me sane these past months. I longed to run my fingers through her golden hair, or to gaze into her emerald eyes.
Finally, it was time to leave. My therapist walked me to the door. Usually she would have hugged me, but there were whispers of a horrible virus drifting through the halls of the facility.
Part of me knew she was the reason I felt so much better. But, the egotistical surgeon in me also wanted to take credit.
As I dragged my suitcase into the brisk Seattle air, I felt free for the first time in months. Free from my mind, free from treatment.
Free.
I spotted Meredith's car and shuddered in anticipation, excitement. I shuffled into the passenger seat, my eyes finding those familiar green orbs.
"Mer-"
"Andrew." I caressed her face with my eyes, taking in a dark sadness. My brow crinkled in worry, never had I seen her in such disparity.
"I missed you." she mused, putting the car in reverse and pulling out. "How was it, how are you?"
"I'm good, stable. It was a lot of talking and feelings but... I'm good." I gave her a reassuring smile. "How are you?" She just shook her head.
"You can talk to me Mer, you don't seem entirely okay.." I contemplated reaching out to stroke her cheek, a sign of affection I knew she enjoyed. I decided against it, I didn't know where we stood.
"I'm fine." She replied shortly. "The hospital isn't, though. We're running out of PPE, bodies are piled in the morgue." I was astounded by the seriousness of the situation. She rounded the corner and pulled into my driveway. I longed to go home with her, to lay in bed and stroke her hair.
"Would you like to come in? I'll make dinner and we can talk." I asked carefully. A thick silence fell between us as she contemplated. Her pager went off.
"I have to get to the hospital Andrew." She looked exhausted.
"When's the last time you slept?" She shook her head.
"Nobody sleeps Andrew. It's a different world now." She started her car again, hinting that I needed to get the hell out.
I gave her a final glance, and then got out. The air seemed harsher, and I hurried inside.
Not free.
