Snippets || EN ||

IV

Callie opens her mouth but then closes it again. For a few minutes, there's only the soup bubbling, cutting through the tense silence. At last, Callie sighs, throwing her hands in the air. "I don't know, but this isn't healthy for either of you!"

"Oh, please. You sound like O'Malley."

"Good. Maybe you'll listen to what he says and see he's right."

"Shut up!" Addison clenches her jaw.

Callie raises a finger, frowning again. "No. You're making this situation harder than it needs to be."

"I'm trying to help."

"Your help is suffocating everyone."

Addison feels as if those words slapped her in the face. She looks away from Callie's gaze, feeling shame creeping up her body.

"You can't keep doing this alone," Callie says gently, moving closer.

"I have to-"

"You think you're the only one being affected by this?" Callie asks, a clear challenge in her voice. "I saw Karev comforting Stevens in an on-call room. Wanna guess why she was crying?"

Addison closes her eyes. "Callie-"

"George keeps talking to me about the worst-case scenarios, and I can't bear it anymore."

"Stop-"

"I had to page Mark to calm Derek down because he started kicking everything in sight when he found out about the NG tube."

Addison takes a deep breath, calming herself. Everything Callie is saying is exactly why she doesn't want anyone to see Meredith. They aren't strong enough. They wouldn't survive seeing her in this state. "Okay, I get it-"

Callie continues, not caring about her words' effect on Addison. "Yang is walking around looking like a corpse."

Addison's eyes open, rage burning deep inside them. "Shut up! Just shut the hell up!"

She laughs bitterly. "Don't you think I know that? Why else wouldn't I let them see her anymore? Every time I have to go up there and see what's left of her, it feels like a thousand knives are put in my chest at once."

Addison takes a deep breath before continuing, saying what she hasn't even had the courage to admit to herself. "She has to get better, or I will end up doing something I regret."

Callie's face drops and her voice shakes just the tiniest bit when she talks again. "You're not saying what I think you're saying."

Addison stares at her, face hard.

"Addison, you can't leave her. If you do, she'll never get better," Callie says, her eyes incredibly sad.

Addison sighs and returns to the soup, feeling happy when she notices it's finished. Meredith has to be hungry.

"I think you should go, Callie," she says absentmindedly, reaching for a bowl.

"She will get better. You have to believe it."

Addison pours the soup into the bowl but leaves it on the counter. Turning around, she sees Callie still standing behind her, frowning.

"I said you should go!" Addison repeats, grabbing Callie's wrist and dragging her to the door. Callie doesn't do anything to stop her until she's out on the porch. Addison has her hand on the door, ready to close it.

Callie looks her in the eye, face serious. "You need help, Addison."

"Brilliant, so now you think I'm crazy?"

"No, I meant with Mer-"

"Bye!"

Addison slams the door in Callie's face, staring daggers at her through the glass until she turns around and starts walking away.

-----------------------------

Addison never really considered herself to be a great cook. But she liked soups – a food that was comfortable in its simplicity.

But that was until the only meal she could make were soups. Not that she has anything against them. She likes good chicken soup when she's sick. It's simple and tasty and makes her feel better. But when she's not ill, she believes soup should be followed by a proper meal, which isn't happening right now.

She would give anything to hear Meredith say she wanted another meal, a meal which wasn't soup. Well, she would love for her to say anything at all, but this wish, in particular, is very prominent on her mind.

Before the incident, Addison was happy with chicken soup a few times a year. But now she has to make soup every day, and to survive that and not go crazy, she had to learn different types – now she can make chicken, noodle, potato, pumpkin, cabbage, and many more.

Soup is the only food Meredith eats. The few times she ate solid food, it ended up on the bottom of a bucket along with everything else from Meredith's stomach.

Sighing, Addison picks up a bowl full of pumpkin soup and goes to Meredith's bedroom, hoping she's awake. Closing the door, Addison turns around and sees Meredith's eyes are open. Her gaze is fixed on the ceiling, and the purple starry blanket is on top of her pile. Addison put it on there this morning, but she still feels warm when she sees it.

"Are you hungry?" she asks hopefully. Carefully lifting the spoon, she blows on the hot liquid before slowly moving it towards Meredith's lips. The blonde turns her head away, her lips tightly shut.

"You have to eat, Meredith." Addison tries to reason with her, even though she knows it won't change anything. "You have to be strong to get through this."

When Meredith doesn't react in any way, Addison decides to try it again later when the soup is less hot. She puts the bowl on the nightstand before gently moving Meredith's hair out of her face, noticing her forehead is hot and sweaty.

Removing a few of the blankets, Addison lies next to her and sighs, repeating the eight words that are slowly starting to lose meaning.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be here. I promise."