What She Needs

8. Everyone Dies In Their Nightmares

Addison

I see Arizona out the front door. It's way later than it should be for a work night for her. It's not even night anymore, it's morning now, and I know my back will soon complain about the hours spent crumpled on a 2 seat sofa with three people. Her and I had a quiet natter after Meredith closed her eyes, her hand never ceasing its therapeutic massage of her abdomen. I felt like I could breathe a little better knowing Meredith had some food digesting in her.

I shut the door as quietly as I can, as to not disturb the sleeping intern on the couch, but it's futile really because I'll have to wake her to put her in bed. She might be 10 years younger than me, but I doubt her back will appreciate the lumpy sofa either. Surprisingly, Meredith doesn't stir. Instead, I slip my hand under the curve of her back and pull her up, resting my other arm under the crook of her bent knees, observing the plethora of bruises tainting her prominent bones.

God she's light.

I take care on the stairs, wishing I'd put a lamp on or something so I could see my footing and prevent a fall with the fragile intern, but thankfully, the rough carpet underfoot alerts me that I've made it to the top of the flight. As I turn into the spare room- Merediths room- I notice she hasn't unpacked at all. I guess she really thinks that I won't make her stay here all week. Little does she know I take all my responsibilities very seriously.
As I place under the comforter she squirms slightly, adjusting to the cool sheets, but she's soon still again, deep in a restful and peaceful sleep as I hum the friends theme under my breath. I bet she needs this rest after today.

"Goodnight Mer. Have good dreams!"

I whisper softly and place a maternal kiss on her forehead. The connection I feel to this girl is like nothing I've felt before. I could compare it to the love I have for my nieces and nephews. Or Naomi's Maya. But it feels more personal. I somehow feel more responsible for her.

As I shut my own eyes for the night, engulfed in my turquoise silky sheets, I realise just what it is I'm feeling. It's the love I have for Amelia, now shared with Meredith. She's my baby sister and I will protect her from everything. Even herself.

And just like that.

Boom.

I shoot upright. Awake. Sweating. Nightmare.

It's just a dream Addison. You're okay. There's no telepathic zombie invading your hospital.

I turn to the flashing alarm clock to my left. 4:30am. My body clock has woken me up for rounds, even though my brain knows I have the week to lie in. I can't relax once I'm awake. It's like my brain knows I've got 1000 things to do and won't stop bugging me until I'm up and doing them.
Grabbing my robe, I begin the route to my coffee machine with my eyes half open, blindly feeling for the picture rail on the wall to guide me across the hallway, but I stop in my path when I hear the scuttling and rummaging and heavy breathing coming from the room opposite mine.

Mer's probably having the same problem as me. The schedule of a doctor is unrelenting, even on days off. On the contrary, I'd hoped she'd sleep up until at least 8am. She needs the rest by the looks of her, and I also wanted some time to myself to come up with a meal plan for the week. Some basic lunches and dinners that hopefully wouldn't overwhelm her too much, but would also provide all the nutrients and calories she's missed for god knows how long.

Popping my head around the door I'm concerned to see an empty bed. She's in the bathroom. Why is she making so much noise in the bathroom?

And then I hear it.

A stifled sob. A stifled Yelp of pain. A sharp intake of breathe and a steady exhale of relief. All of those things in one inhalation.

"Meredith?"