Aftermath

Part 17

"Meredith, I know I've cleared you for surgery, but you're not done,"

I frowned.

"I have to leave, but I'm going to refer you to another therapist. I have a list of a few PTSD specialists who I think could really help you,"

I felt my eyes widen. Trauma counselor Perkins had requested to see me again before he left the hospital. 

"So I need to stay in therapy?"

"That's what I would recommend, yes,"

Yesterday I had sat in the bathroom dealing with my hangover all morning and avoided talking to Derek about anything too sensitive. When I had walked into the hospital for work this morning, I was paged to the conference room to see Perkins.

Thanks to hospital gossip, I had heard that he was leaving. But as he handed me a sheet of paper with the names and numbers of other therapists he was recommending me to see, I didn't really know what I was feeling. 

"O-okay," I had meant for my voice to come out confident, but it was hoarse instead.

"I think it could really help you," Perkins said as he stood up and walked out of the conference room, leaving me standing there in shock by myself. 

After a few minutes, I mindlessly walked out and down to the Pit to troll for cases. In the elevator, I ran into Cristina.

"Thank god," I said when she entered. We were alone, and I pulled the emergency stop button.

"What's going on?" She asked, confused.

"This is what's going on," I responded, shoving the paper Perkins had gave me in her face. 

"He wants you to stay in therapy with some other PTSD specialist?" 

"Yes! And I-I...I don't know, Cristina, I'm at a loss here,"

"Do you even need it? I mean, how many signs of PTSD are you showing because you seem normal around me," 

I dropped my gaze guiltily. This wasn't something I liked talking about. 

"Mer?"

Slowly I nodded, meeting her eyes once again. She had her head slightly tilted in understanding, but her eyes were urging me to go on. 

"I don't want to go into details about it. But yeah, he diagnosed me with PTSD,"

Cristina hugged me. A short one, but she hugged me. When she pulled back she didn't look at my with pity like I had feared she would, only understanding.

"Does Derek know?"

"He knows about the PTSD. Not this," I explained, motioning towards the paper.

Somehow, Cristina hugging me had made tears build up behind my eyes. She could tell.

"You should talk to him, and go to therapy,"

I stared at her for a long moment before pushing the emergency stop button again, causing the elevator to continue moving.

"I-I can't, Cristina, I can't be here. I need to go. Tell whoever that I'm taking the day off,"

"You had a day off yesterday?"

"Then I'm taking a personal day. I'm leaving," 

The elevator doors opened and I briskly walked off, leaving Cristina staring after me. I bolted to the resident's lounge, changed out of my scrubs, grabbed my belongings and began to speed walk out of the hospital.

Tears were beginning to blur my vision, I had no idea why. I literally ran into Lexie on the main floor.

"Meredith? Where are you going? Are you okay?" She asked, grabbing my arm so I couldn't just brush past her.