What She Needs

44. I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

Huge rights to Shondaland here! I've used some of the dialogue from episodes in season 4 or 5. You guys will know what bits aren't written by me. No copyright infringement intended! Why would I change the dialogue when Shonda's team wrote it so well?

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For- U2

Sorry updates are sporadic, I've been feeling quite nauseous recently. 

Meredith Grey

I slump into a chair, my bag dropping to my sides loudly. I do not want to be here.

"Well, you're a ray of sunshine today, aren't you!" Dr Garcia snarks from behind her desk in her brightly lit office. 

"Water?" She offers, and although I'm mad, I do take the unopened bottle from my therapists hand, offering a small thank you. I have manners. 

"So how have things been this week? Anything you want to talk about?"

"Oh cut the crap!" I roll my eyes. "I know Addison's called you about the relapse."

She seems surprised at my new angry attitude. 

"Actually, I haven't spoken to Addison in weeks. These are your sessions, where I listen to you, not to Addison." She crosses her legs, waiting for my reaction. 

Well, shit.

"It seems like you've got a lot to tell me." She gets out that stupid notebook, dating the page.

"This relapse... does it have anything to do with the sutures on your hand?"

"No.... that's from a bomb." I deadpan, deliberately leaving her in the dark. 

"Right okay. Obviously. Shall we go through one thing at a time?" Grace exhales heavily. I thought therapists had heard and seen it all before. I suppose bombs are a little extreme though.  Maybe running into explosive devices isn't covered in shrink school.

"Look, it's not a big deal." I groan.  "I had a relapse. Cutting. I hid it. Addison found out and she's been treating me like broken glass ever since and its making me mad! And then she made a big deal out of me catching a bomb..."

"...woah!" The therapist stops me. "Back track there for a second... you caught a bomb?"

"Yeah... you must've heard. A man brought an explosive into the ER of Seattle Grace last week. He tried to blow up his girlfriend and unborn child, but he only managed to set their car on fire. Station 19 got the mother out, but he followed them to the hospital and threatened to detonate another homemade explosive. He pulled the pin and threw it, but I saw what was going on and managed to catch the bomb and throw it out the doors of the ER. I think I blew up some nurses car by accident. Insurance should cover that right?" I ramble. 

"That sounds very traumatic, Meredith. How're you feeling? Any nightmares?"

"Look, it sounds worse than it was. If I did nothing, the man would've killed himself and he wouldn't have had to face the justice system, I did the right thing and I feel good about it. Sure it was scary, but as a doctor, I put my patients first."

"But not if it puts you in harms way. I can understand why Addison would be treating you like glass. It seems your decision to catch the bomb was impulsive and irrational. Did you cut yourself afterwards?" 

"No." I clarify. "That was before. A patient came to the ER with a deep self harm cut and Addison kicked me off the case. I get she was trying to protect me, but really, I could've handled the case, and getting kicked out just made me feel worse."

"Do you think you can show me what you did?" Grace hedges politely. 

I roll up my sleeve, presenting the sutured but undressed cut to my therapist.