Chapter Text
It's funny how they say when you find someone
Heart speeds up, time slows down
Things get heavy heavy, but you know we ain't done yet
It's funny how you wait 'til the moment comes
Moment's here, moment's gone
Kiss you heavy heavy, but you know we ain't done yet
- Elina Stridh ("Here with me")
As they walk side by side through the familiar halls of the hospital on their way to her car, it takes every iota of Meredith's drained willpower not to grab his hand, squeeze for dear life and never let go. His right hand, her left hand... so close and yet an ocean apart. Feathering, hovering, brushing, tingling, a delicious hum of awareness and for a heartbeat, the purest kind of torture. A torment that doesn't fail to elicit hair-raising shivers, every nerve in her body aware of his presence at her side. Switching her briefcase to her left hand seems like a safe bet to avoid tempting fate.
The numerous double takes they receive along the way to her car draw a deep chuckle from within her chest. Meredith can't help it when everyone is sporting bugged-out eyes reminiscent of cartoon characters. It's reassuring to realize she's not the only one gobsmacked by Hayes' unexpected arrival. He nods politely, greeting familiar faces with a broad smile, quick fist bumps and pats on the back. The returning hero heralded by doctors, nurses, med students and every other staff alike, reinforcements arriving just in the nick of time. By the time they get to the elevator, Meredith knows the gossip mill is roaring and by the end of the night, everyone will know he's back.
"Didn't expect that," he murmurs as they wait for the elevator.
"What? The warm welcome?"
"Aye."
She glances sideways, studying the adorable spots of rose emerging on his cheeks with focused intent. "You shouldn't be. Surprised, that is. You don't know the effect you had on people here." The effect people didn't tell you enough about because we all thought we had more time. Time we all took for granted.
Once the words are out, she averts her gaze, hoping her hair will conceal the heat rising up her neck.
Before he has time to formulate a response, the doors to the elevator blessedly open. What they find fixes Meredith in place. A disheveled Winston rearranging his lab coat and Maggie attempting to tame her mussed up hair. Her sister looks up, a relieved sigh escaping at not being caught by a stranger. Or worse... Richard.
Meredith fashions a knowing smirk, clearing her throat at the not-so unfamiliar scene. Maggie's eyes dart to the side, her jaw unhinging so wide, Meredith worries a dislocation will occur.
"Hayes..." Maggie's gaze flits like a tennis ball back to Meredith and then to Hayes again. "Hayes?"
His lips twitch into something resembling pleasure. "If there was any doubt I might forget my own name, there's no danger of that happening now."
"Hayes! It's so good to see you!" Maggie exclaims enthusiastically, launching herself in his direction and wrapping him in a tight embrace, his duffle bag be damned. As her sister pulls back, the torrent of questions assaults them, not unlike Meredith's own.
"What are you doing here? How long are you staying? Are you back for good? I can't believe you left without saying goodbye. I—"
Winston places his hands on his wife's shoulders and pulls her exuberant body back gently, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Maggie, let the man breathe. But it is nice to have you back, man."
Hayes jokes and reassures, as he always does. "With a greeting like that, I don't know what I was thinking, leaving this place."
In the ribbing at his own expense, Meredith hears some truth and questioning. She steps in to save him, "Hayes is coming over for dinner if you guys want to come."
"We're on call tonight," Winston replies. "We were just gonna—"
Meredith promptly cuts him off, "Nope! Don't need to know." She sidesteps her family and gets on the elevator. Hayes follows her in, amusement painted across his face.
"It was good bumping into you two. We can catch up tomorrow, yeah?"
Maggie nods excitedly. "Definitely! Have fun, you two." The wiggling eyebrows from her sister goes a touch too far, drawing a choking cough from Hayes and a searing, narrowing glare from Meredith.
The doors can't close fast enough on Maggie's grinning, know-it-all face. Pressing the ground floor button, silence hangs in the air between them, the implications in her sister's words filling the remaining space.
Hayes disturbs her thoughts. "I've never met anyone quite like Pierce."
His comment inspires a playful snort. "And you never will. One is enough for this world. Two might just disrupt the planet's delicate equilibrium."
A burst of laughter bubbles over. "Well, we can't have that. One will have to do."
The elevator dings, announcing their arrival at the lobby. "Come on. Demon children await us. I can't wait to see the look on their faces." She relishes it, really. Anything that makes her babies happy makes her happy.
"Lead the way."
"Did you rent a car?" she asks, heading towards the door to the parking lot and mentally bracing herself for the scorching, humid heat about to wash over them.
He vacillates, following her lead towards her car. "Not yet. Don't know if I should or if I can get by with Uber."
"Where are you staying?"
"Not far from here. I could probably walk every day."
"Then you don't need a car. You can use mine if you need to. But you have everything you need pretty close by," she offers.
"That's mighty generous of you."
"I've been known to be quite nice, you know."
"Since when? Must have been after I left," he teases good-naturedly.
Instead of flinging another joke his way, she's pensive for a moment, bumping her shoulder gently against his. "I still can't believe you're really here." Even to her own ears, the stunned awe shines through. She yearns to lean more into him. Her first bursting hug could be excused as excitement and surprise. A second embrace...could spook him. And her.
An easy smile graces his lips, softening his twinkling eyes that much more. A soft smile she hasn't seen in a long time, a smile that was hard to come by when he had first arrived in Seattle. "Give it time. In a month, you'll be packing my bags for me and glad to be done with me."
The vehement denial sprouts from deep within her core before she can hold it back, "Never!"
"Are you sure you're mentally prepared for the squealing you're about to be subjected to?" Meredith warns him once she's parked in her driveway. She turns off the headlights and turns to him in the passenger seat.
His chuckles echo in the dead quiet of the car. "No. But I can't wait to find out."
When Meredith pushes the front door open, she expects scuttling feet, but quiet greets her like an ominous warning sign of potential chaos awaiting her.
In her ear, Hayes whispers, "That was anticlimactic."
She looks back at his hulking form and rolls her eyes. "This is probably worse. I fear a sugar coma awaits us. God help us. Wait here."
Dropping her purse and briefcase by the door, she tiptoes her way towards the kitchen, steeling herself for whatever looms ahead. Peaking inside, she glimpses an explosion befitting a badly-run bakery. Flour coats so many surfaces it's hard to make out the dark colours of her cabinets, melted chocolate stains the counters as well as Ellis' forehead, sugar is sprinkled in crevices not even a deep clean will get out and Meredith counts more eggshells on the table than a pranked front door on Halloween night. Clearing her throat, all three kids whip their heads in her direction, bouncing off the walls with excitement.
Screams of 'Mama', 'Mommy' and 'Mom' reach her before their running bodies veer her way.
"Don't even think about it, monsters." She puts her hand out to hold her dirty, unrepentant sprites at bay—monsters that continually test her limited patience. "Go wash up before you touch anything else. What were you doing anyway?"
Zola, always the leader, answers for all three, "We wanted to make brownies for you. Maria said yes. But... it didn't exactly go as well as planned."
Meredith looks around, searching for the kids' nanny. "Where is Maria?"
All three sheepishly glance down at their feet, mumbling under their breaths. Finally, Zola speaks loudly enough for Meredith to hear, "In the bathroom, cleaning the eggs out of her hair."
Meredith's eyes round big, a deep huff exhaling out. Before she can stop herself, peals of laughter burst out. "Of course she is. Were the brownies successful at least?"
"We didn't try them yet," Bailey says, his voice imbued with hope.
Meredith leads the kids to the sink, and they each take turns climbing the step stool and washing their hands.
"I guess surprises are in the air today."
Ellis hones in on her comment, excitement blazing across her face. "Did you bring us a surprise, Mama?"
Meredith tries to build up the suspense as much as she can. "Mm-hmm. Maybe."
Her youngest' eyes bulge. "What? What?"
"There might be a teeny, tiny surprise waiting for you by the door."
Her brood swivel their respective gazes in the direction of the kitchen entry, and for a millisecond, they stay rooted in their spots as if waiting for a unicorn to pop out. But soon enough, impatience wins out and they stampede to the foyer one after the other, from oldest to youngest, with Meredith following closely behind. The collective gasps lit her heart on fire.
"Dr. Hayes!" Zola screams, scrambling over to him with her younger siblings trailing close behind. "I knew you couldn't resist my speech." A knowing smirk dances on her eldest's lips, like she alone willed Hayes into coming back to Seattle.
Her trio crowd him, each hanging on to a different part of him. Zola has her arms around his waist, Bailey holds his hand out for an expectant high-five, and Ellis wraps her tiny arms around his left leg. As he looks up at her, emotions flicker at the edge of his eyes and she thinks maybe he needed this. In the depth of is gaze, it feels like he's finally letting her truly see him, no more veiled mysteries between them.
Breaking their connection, Hayes gazes down at Zola, his features softening. "What can I say? I know a good selling pitch when I hear one."
He tries to bend down a little, but the hold the kids have on his limbs is too fierce.
"So, good surprise?" Meredith asks the kids, walking over to disentangle them from Hayes.
"Awesome surprise!" Bailey responds as the girls nod their heads in vigorous accord.
Meredith chuckles at their comfortable positions. "Come on, guys. Hayes is going to think you're all octopi if you don't let go."
Zola corrects her with exasperation colouring her voice. "It's octopuses, mom!"
The word alone draws strangled noises from the back of Hayes' throat and an adorable pinkish hue infuses his cheeks. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her own spurt of laughter from rising to the surface, her shoulders trembling despite her best efforts. Meredith winks at him before shaking her head at her daughter's unfiltered thoughts. "That just sounds so wrong."
Completely oblivious to the adults' childish near meltdown at the word 'octopuses', Zola explains evenly, "Octopi would be the wrong etymology."
Meredith's eyebrows hike up at her daughter's use of fancy words. Glancing at Hayes, she sees she's not the only one mildly impressed.
"Okay, Miss Spelling Bee. Go upstairs and wash up while I clean up the disaster zone you left in the kitchen." They all race up the stairs, leaving Meredith and Hayes lingering in the foyer.
"Have you ever been to the house before?"
Hayes snorts. "Wouldn't you know?"
Her teeth tug at her lower lip. "I—I thought maybe while I was in a coma—maybe you had come. The kids just seem so comfortable around you."
He bestows a sheepish smile on her, like he's embarrassed he got to know her kids without her knowledge or consent. "Ah! No. We chatted a fair bit, but it was all virtually. When they would call every day to talk to you."
An awkward silence weaves around them. Seconds tick by and memories of the painful past pile up, determined to interrupt the good time they're supposed to be having. Shaking herself out of miserable thoughts, Meredith locks one arm under his and drags him towards her living room.
"Make yourself at home. I'm just going to let the nanny know I'm here and then, I can give you a tour, if you want."
"Aye, I'd like that very much."
"Unless the kids get to you first and then it's game over for a peaceful night," she teases.
Eyes crinkling with laughter, the side of his mouth cants up. "There's no such thing with children under the age of 12."
"They should warn people about that before they become parents."
"They do. We just don't listen very well because we get hypnotized by how cute and cuddly babies are when they're born."
She agrees. "They are, aren't they? I swear I spent hours just laying in my bed, cuddling each one. I would also fall asleep from exhaustion, but not before I just stared at their tiny, puffy faces and squeezed their round cheeks. I remember feeling like I could stay there for days."
"If they didn't poop with so much fervour, they'd be perfect," he jokes.
She makes a gagging motion. "Don't remind me! If I could bleach my brain to forget about that, I would do it in a second. I'll be right back."
She leaves him parked on her couch, heading up the stairs to deal with her trio. Once she gives Maria her well-deserved leave (the poor woman's clothes are in fact covered in flour and egg yolks), Meredith checks in on the kids to make sure they're not up to more shenanigans. Finding them washing up and changing their clothes, a sense of satisfaction flows through her and she quickly sneaks off to her own room to freshen up. Minutes later, she heads back down, intent on rectifying the mayhem in her kitchen before she has to start dinner.
Confusion flares up when she finds her living room empty. The clinking noises coming from pots and pans being rearranged in the kitchen reaches her ears. She threads softly through the living room and then dining room, pausing to soak in the heartwarming sight before her. With his back turned to her, Hayes doesn't notice her as he wipes down the counter near the sink, scrubbing back and forth, the muscles in his right forearm leaping from the back and forth movement. Hypnotized by the rhythm of his efforts, Meredith rests her shoulder against the archway, sighing and simply enjoying the view.
He must sense her because he lifts his gaze and catches her head-to-toe inspection. "Are you just going to stand there and ogle me all night, or are you going to come and help me?"
She crosses her arms over her chest, pursing her lips in mock contemplation. "I mean... I'm good right here, to be honest." She tilts her chin in the direction of the kitchen island, "You can keep going."
The glint in his eyes betrays his enjoyment of her lingering, sensual, blatant perusal. "Nanny relieved of her duties?"
Meredith nods, shaking her head again at her kids' antics. "With a little bonus for her troubles."
Pushing away from the archway, she heads to the fridge to start rummaging for food while Hayes keeps scrubbing the counters, discarding used paper towels in the trash and setting the dirty pans, spatulas and scoopers in her sink.
"You seriously need to stop cleaning up my kids' mess. I can't add another perfect thing about you to the list," she bemoans jokingly.
His eyebrows quirk in interest. "There's a list? Hmm... What, pray tell, is on this list?"
Her mouth opens and closes, no words forming on her tongue. She spins around and pokes her head back in the refrigerator, the cool air a soothing balm to her heating cheeks. "No list. Just a figure of speech."
It seems he can't let the opportunity to tease her pass him by. And she can't blame him after all the teasing she's subjecting him to. "Mm-hmm. Are my amazing surgical skills on this supposed list? How about my winsome personality?"
She shoots a side-eye in his direction, but the tug at the corner of her lips belies the heat in her stare. "Some things are slowly getting erased from the list..."
He points his index finger at her, a pleased look dashing across his face. "So, there is a list!"
"I'm gonna take that list and shove it up your ass," she grumbles under her breath, taking out tomatoes, green and red peppers, onions, black olives, beans, shredded Tex-Mex cheese and salsa.
"Are we having a party?" Hayes asks when he glimpses the array of food.
Meredith looks back at him, her hip resting against the fridge door. "Kind of. TGIF dinners always have to be a shareable meal. The kids agreed on nachos for today." She dips her head back in the fridge to search for more ingredients, unable to let the moment go by without mocking him. "We have stuff to make a salad if your healthy sensibilities can't handle amazing, gooey comfort food."
He drops the last paper towel in the trash can. "The Irish are known for their hearty meals. It's you Americans who have colonized the world with these crazy fad diets with words I've never heard of."
Pulling out the last ingredient—sour cream—pops of chuckles escape as she closes the fridge door and places the container on the island.
Taking in the mountain of ingredients, Hayes's impressed gaze darts to her. "This is quite an elaborate feast you've got planned."
"TGIF dinners are sacred in this household," Meredith says with all the seriousness she can muster, eying the brownie pan with not-so disguised hope. "With any luck, the brownies are salvageable."
"And tomorrow, we'll all be in a food coma?"
"There are worse kinds of comas to be in," she jokes from experience. "Come on, sit, sit. You're the guest of honour and you've been travelling for God knows how long. Grab something to drink and lay back! I might have some leftover beer from the last time Link was over."
She looks over at the clock. "I better start chopping before the kids revolt and threaten to call child protective services."
He snorts. "Glad to know I'm not the only parent that gets threatened with that line by his kids."
By the time she starts cutting—just about the only skill she possesses in the kitchen—the kids have come down and settled in beside Hayes at the island, peppering him with questions about his move to Ireland—stereotypes be damned.
Does it rain as often in Ireland as it does in Seattle?
Can you play soccer year round?
If we visited, would we be the ones with accents?
Are there Leprechauns? Do they carry pots of gold? Have you seen one?
Is green your favourite colour? Do they have green drinks year round?
Do you know a lot of redheads?
Do sheep roam the streets a lot?
What's the coolest Irish name you can think of?
Do you see Princess Kate a lot? That one is from Ellis. Of course.
Do you know anyone who Riverdances? The last question devolves into embarrassing dance moves from her trio.
"How about we set the table for dinner while I answer all your very fascinating questions?"
Despite their collective grumbles, they acquiesce without too much push back, all while Meredith stifles a laugh at the kids' exuberance, almost treating Hayes like a poor circus animal. While getting to work, he indulges them with exaggerated tales of Irish adventures. Her minions hang on to his every word, the scene playing out before her infusing her with more warm and fuzzies than a Hallmark Christmas movie.
The discussion continues as her chatty brood talk with their mouths full of Meredith's cheesy concoction. It's almost too cozy, her heart expanding to the point of nearly bursting at the seams.
A few hours later, once he's settled into his rented apartment, Hayes glances at the clock by the bedside table. It reads 11 o'clock. It should be early enough in Italy that the lads haven't started their day yet, but not too early that they'll groan at him for waking them up. He texts them just to be on the safe side.
Da : Give me a call when you get this. Nothing urgent.
In the rush of preparations, Hayes kept putting off telling his boys he took their advice to do something for himself. He waits patiently for their response, and a few minutes later, his phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call from Liam. Hayes answers almost immediately. The shining sun in the background nearly blinds him, as does the giant smile lighting his son's face.
"Hey da!"
"Not too early for you?" Hayes asks.
"Nah. We already had breakfast and we're just grabbing our water bottles before heading out for the day."
"I'm not going to keep you long. Is Austin with you?"
"Yeah, da. I'm here," his youngest answers, twisting Liam's hold on the phone and entering the frame.
Liam's face wrinkles in confusion, examining the environment around Hayes more closely. "Where are you? That doesn't look like your room. And why does it look like nighttime?"
"Umm... That's—that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I—I took your advice and planned a little trip for myself." He clears his throat in hopes of dispelling the discomfort lodging its way in.
"Cool. Where?"
Hayes takes a grounding breath before confessing, "In—in Seattle."
He's met with quiet on the other end of the line. A quiet that starts to feel like a vacuum of silence the longer it prolongs with eyebrows inching higher and higher by the second. They've never been this silent. Whether it's the shock of the announcement or the location he travelled to, Hayes can't quite discern.
Finally, Liam pops the tension balloon, filling the gaps with a lighthearted quip. "You know da... I think you change your mind as often as a teenage girl."
Rose tinges Hayes' cheeks, but he expels a relieved sigh. Glancing at Austin, his youngest remains quiet, but a small quirk of the lips relaxes Hayes.
He teases his eldest right back. "What would you know about teenage girls and their wavering minds?"
"Too much, da. I've got so much more game than you."
"Excuse me, Mr. Casanova."
Austin jumps in, getting in on the fun of ribbing his dad, "It's dated references like that that show your age, da. Your old age..."
Hayes fakes a gasp in mock outrage. "I'll have you know I'm hip!"
The lads snicker under their breaths. "For your age, maybe... Hip, who even uses that word anymore?"
"Old people like me, apparently. Are you boys sure you're truly alright with me being so far?" He still worries, needing all the reassurances his lads can conjure up.
"It's cool. Especially if it makes you text us less. But—" Liam pauses, a touch of uncertainty crawling in his voice.
"But?" Hayes pushes for his son to finish his thought.
"But why Seattle? You practically rushed us out of there like you were a wanted criminal or something."
Oh, how close to the truth you are, Hayes muses.
"Just helping out some friends. I left them in a bit of a pickle when I left abruptly. And... I was this close to booking a ticket to follow you lads around. I picked the lesser of two evils."
The boys let out exaggerated breaths of relief. It's not lost on Hayes that Liam did most of the talking, with Austin remaining mostly tight-lipped.
"It's just to help out. I promise," Hayes reiterates to reinforce his sentiment and to reassure them of his intentions.
His youngest understands perfectly what he's doing. "It's ok, da. I—You don't have to put your life on hold for me."
The dejection weaving its way through his son's voice fractures his hearts. "Austin..." Hayes inclines his head, shaking it rapidly to correct his son. "Our move, everything... It wasn't because of you, lad. You know I wasn't ready either. Everything just got too real and too big in Seattle. I needed to take a step back."
"But you're there now... You went back?" Austin prods, intrigued by what could be construed as his dad's erratic behaviour.
"Aye, but just for the month. As I said, to lend a helping hand to some friends." Hayes tries to maintain a casual tone to keep the boat afloat.
"Do those friends include a certain general surgeon you couldn't stop talking about for a while?"
There's no hint of wariness in his son's voice, only a quiet tinge of astuteness and a renewed intensity to get the truth out of his father.
Hayes clamps his lips together, fearful all the same of derailing his son's progress. He decides to circumvent this line of questioning altogether. "She's actually Chief of Surgery now."
Liam lets out a slow whistle. "Damn, da. Way to punch above your weight. WAY above."
A litany of curses ranging from 'oh, God' to 'piss off' make their way to the tip of Hayes' tongue. Thankfully, they remain there. "There is no punching above anyone's weight going on. I'm only here for the month."
Liam goads him, a mischievous smirk overtaking his features. "That's more than enough time to get it on."
The curses boil over. "For feck's sake! You're too young for this. My heart can't take it. I need more time to mentally prepare myself."
The boys double over with laughter. "I'm 17, da. Austin's almost 15. Better start getting used to it."
"Can't you just stay those two little rascals that used to run around after me when I would come through the door after a long shift?"
Austin chimes in, "Do you still want us to jump on your back like the good old days too?"
His back flinches at the thought. "Maybe that's one tradition we can rein in for now."
"We got to go, da. Have fun in Seattle. But not too much fun," Liam kids, wiggling his brows at him.
"Alright, have fun today. We'll talk later."
"Bye da! And don't forget to use condoms."
Jesus, Joseph and Mary! Had he really needed to tell his sons he was in Seattle?
By midday the following afternoon, a calm day seems like a dream of the past to Meredith. She barely even has a second to deposit her things in her office before she's paged to the ER. The morning devolves into putting out fire after fire, each one more epic than the last.
So, when Hayes pokes his head in her office at noon, mouth relaxed into a warm smile, he doesn't realize he's about to prevent a bludgeoning. Her own, that is. She marvels at his inane talent for showing up at the exact right time she needs him. His mere presence steadies her soul, and if time permitted, she would bask in the feeling for hours.
Leaning against her doorjamb, he waves his employee access card in her direction. "I'm all set."
She sits back, closing her charts. "Did they give you a lab coat?"
"Not yet. It'll be ready tomorrow. Unless you need me sooner."
A long-suffering sigh exits her body, her shoulders rolling. "What I need now is an escape route."
He stays put, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Bad morning?"
She gets up slowly, shuffling her files into a somewhat neat pile. "Nothing a double cheeseburger from Joe's can't fix."
Hayes' lips press together to keep from laughing. "I'm worried about your nutrition. Genuinely."
She groans, hanging her head as she gathers her phone and keys into her purse. "Ugh! Don't be. It's the job that'll kill me before the food."
"Don't say that," he admonishes with seriousness imbuing his words.
Sucking in a deep breath, she looks up at him, and the affection dancing across his features emboldens her. "You think you'd miss me?"
A piercing look enters his eyes, pinning her in place, and her skin feels flayed under his spell. "More than," he finally whispers.
Before she can respond, a harried Helm comes running in, her nose stuck in a tablet, sidestepping the body in her way entirely—Hayes—in her rush to get to Meredith.
"Dr. Grey! We need you in—"
Hayes steps in like a knight in shining armour. "Helm, is it life or death?"
The resident jumps with a squeak, whirling around, the presence of a third person in the room taking her by surprise. Eyes blinking rapidly, the young woman's mouth opens and snaps shut so many times, Meredith can't help but visualize a fish out of water. After a quick shake of the head, the resident finally sputters, "Dr. Hayes?"
A faint smile flashes across his face. "Nice to see you, Helm."
That seems to snap the fourth-year resident out of her stupor. "Dr. Hayes!" She takes a step forward, pulling him into a hug. "Please tell me you're back for good."
If he wasn't so surprised, Meredith thinks he'd faint on the spot. As it happens, he simply mouths to Meredith, "Are you jealous?"
She rolls her eyes at the outlandish display of affection from Helm, for once not directed at her, not bothering to examine too closely her own passionate display from the previous night.
Hayes pats the resident awkwardly on the back. "It's good to be back. It's only for a month, I'm afraid."
Helm pulls back, slightly embarrassed. She shifts her weight between her feet, glancing down and flattening out the wrinkles in her scrub top. "Well, you've been missed around here." Tilting her head knowingly towards Meredith, the resident adds, "Not just by the residents, if you know what I mean..."
"Helm! What do you need? We were just going out to lunch." Meredith interrupts whatever her resident was implying.
Helm smirks with the audacity of an all-too-comfortable resident. "It can wait."
"You sure?"
Tablet clutched against her chest, Helm squeezes her lips to hide a growing grin, but her cheeky tone and one-eyed wink betray her. "Definitely. You two go have fun. I'll find you when you come back." With that, she runs off as fast as she came in, a whisper of giggles floating in the distance.
"Guess she has a new favourite," Hayes says, mirth colouring his words.
Meredith narrows her eyes. "Be careful what you wish for. I have nightmares of waking up with her at my bedside."
They share a chuckle as she hooks her purse over her shoulder. "You ready? Joe's is calling my name."
"We don't have to go far if you prefer to stay close," he offers.
She's having none of it. "You deserve decent food. Not some cheap imitation of food from the cafeteria. Especially after the multiple plane rides."
At the door, Meredith sneaks a look left and right to make sure the coast is clear, her patience in short supply. "And we need to go before another resident interrupts us."
A faint puff of air brushes against the back of her neck. "Do you have an escape plan? This has all the makings of my favourite spy novels."
She looks back at him hovering behind her, a new layer to the onion unpeeled. "I can totally see that."
A throat clearing inches from the doorway jolts her.
"Dr. Grey! The ER—"
She faces the next resident in the long line of residents who seek her out constantly. She's never empathised with Bailey quite as much as she does now.
"One hour, Schmitt. Please, give me one hour for lunch. Is it an emergency or can you find Weber to help until I'm back?"
Her pleading voice must get to the young student because he nods resolutely. "It can wait, but you're definitely going to want in on this case," he hints, stoking her curiosity.
When she doesn't bite—it's a struggle, but she prevails—Schmitt turns to leave. Movement out of the corner of the resident's eye catches his attention and he does a double take at the sight of Hayes, gaping in shock. One of many double takes she's witnessed in the last twenty-four hours.
The deep raspy voice behind her sends shivers careening down her back. "Hi, Schmitt."
The resident's entire demeanour brightens up. "Dr. Hayes! We've missed you in peds. It's not the same without you. Big gaping hole, honestly." Schmitt emphasizes his meaning with exaggerated hand gestures and energetic head nods.
"That's kind. I'll be helping for the next month or so." Hayes points his thumb in Meredith's direction and adds teasingly, "Have to help this one straighten things out."
"I like peds!" Schmitt remarks not-so innocently, his attempt at flattery as transparent as crystal.
Meredith huffs. "Oh, really... Yesterday, you liked general. Quite the charmer, Schmitt."
He shrugs his shoulders not the least bit embarrassed at his sucking-up attempts. "What can I say, Dr. Grey? I'm an equal opportunist when it comes to broadening my horizons in surgery."
Hayes supplies talking points for Schmitt. "I mean, they're not that far apart. Peds is a subspecialty of general, after all."
Offering a brilliant smile Hayes' way, Schmitt snaps his fingers together, commandeering the pediatric surgeon's talking point as his own. "Exactly! I'm diversifying. Trying to explore different specialties and find my niche."
"Don't make me assign you to urology for a month."
"Yep! On my way. Page me when you get back," Schmitt says, scurrying away quickly.
Hayes lets out a chuckle. "Things haven't changed all that much."
Pain creases her features. Him not being there every day is a monumental change to her. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment to resettle her nerves, and in the process, her teeth dig deep enough to make an indentation in her lower lip.
"Meredith?" Her names fall from Hayes' lips in concern.
"I'm good," she reassures. "Everyone comes to me for answers to their problems. When did that happen?" Quick head shakes follow her rhetorical question. "I can't—I can't even imagine this hospital without its residency program. Did you know my mom did her residency here? Or part of it anyway."
Sympathy flares in his eyes. "We'll find a way to fix it."
She doesn't ask him to promise. Such a promise would be foolish to make. But she almost thinks he would make it.
"Come on. I'm starving."
They make the small trek across the street and thankfully find the bar mostly empty, ensuring faster service.
Once they're seated, Meredith's eyes starts flitting around, the reality of being peacefully alone with him finally setting in. They've barely had a moment to themselves, and she's barely had any time to process the implications behind his surprise visit. So, she buries her head in the small menu, hoping to evade whatever discomfort seems to have grabbed hold of her. She eyes the double-cheeseburger, the wings, the nachos—yes, again—the mozzarella sticks, the potato skins, going over the menu twice in an effort to delay the inevitable.
Menu read front to back, she can no longer dodge. When her gaze lifts to Hayes, he's relaxed against the backrest of the booth, studying her with interest lining his stare.
"You're nervous," he states as a fact, and yet searching for answers.
Her head dips an inch in defeat again. "Is it that obvious?"
"You were reading that menu like it was a medical textbook... So, aye."
He leans forward, forearms on the table, his hands inching closer to hers. "Wh—why are you nervous?"
She raises her head once more and their eyes catch, awareness leaching into the depths of his eyes. Her fingers edge slowly towards his, twitching with the urge to touch him. No more than a graze, like teenagers in a movie theater. Her body revels in the sensation, the hairs at the back of her neck standing in relief. She's convinced she could subsist on hand grazes alone.
Her voice finds roots. "I don't want to do something wrong. Something to spook you." I'm scared of injecting false meaning into your coming to Seattle out of the blue, she leaves unsaid. I'm terrified of pushing too far too fast and driving you away for good.
"I'm here, Meredith. I came of my own free will."
His hand finally lands on hers, intertwining their fingers together and giving it a gentle squeeze full of meaning. If his touch doesn't set her on fire, his stomach-flipping stare will finish the job.
The moment is interrupted when the long-standing waitress comes to take their order. He asks for a veggie burger with fries and Meredith settles for a club sandwich to appease Hayes' health-nut conscience.
"What happened to the double cheeseburger?" he wonders once the waitress leaves.
She glares at him for the reminder. "Common sense set it. I'm not twenty anymore, much to my ever-growing chagrin."
"Would you honestly want to go back to that time?"
Her head tilts to the side in thought. While she's taking in his question, the efficient waitress comes back with their drinks. "Thanks."
Meredith stares at him wordlessly, finding his gaze hasn't deviated from her. Multiple heartbeats pass before her mind can formulate a coherent response. "I don't know, honestly. I wish I had the same energy. But I was pretty messed up at twenty. No direction. Angry at the world, at my mom, at myself. Spoiled and stupid. But man, did I have some fun times." Fun you can only have when you're carefree with nary a responsibility and no one depending on you for survival.
"You wished you had the wisdom then you have now, but the vigour for life now you had then, when life hadn't yet beat you down?" he summarizes, succinctly putting her feelings into words. Words drenched with understanding.
"Exactly."
Taking a sip of her club soda and wishing it were something much stronger, she pivots, asking him the question that's been on her mind since he first arrived, "How did the boys take you news of your stay?"
He raises an eyebrow, letting the subject change slide. "I just told them last night, actually."
Surprise crosses her face.
"What? I can be spontaneous," he affirms, mild offense tinting his words.
She's all too familiar with his bouts of spontaneity, but it still doesn't track with the steadfast person she's grown to know. "I just always thought of you as someone who planned everything out, down to the most minute detail. Meticulous to a fault, like your surgeries. I can even picture you deciding what shoes you're going to wear on a plane."
Just as his mouth parts open to respond, she cuts him off, a chuckle gurgling up, "Never sandals. I know!"
Their food arrives and she digs in like a starving person, much to his amusement. He does his best to erase any awkwardness that might be lingering in her as they chat like no time has passed.
"How did your mom take the news?" she asks, swiping some of his leftover fries when hers inevitably run out.
He pushes his plate towards her to accommodate. "She made me swear on Saint Patrick that I was coming back. A tad dramatic, if you ask me."
Any talk of his leaving again splinters Meredith's heart, one goodbye painful enough. But she's learned to treasure what little moments she's been gifted with and she'll enjoy what she's been bestowed.
"I reckon she'll be happy to get rid of smelly lads for a while."
Meredith laughs at the memory of her own "frat house". "You should have seen my house when I was an intern. God, it was gross! Three to five residents living in one place at any given time." She shudders just thinking about the stuff she'd found in the bathroom, the fridge, the living room...
"If the on-call rooms and residents' lounge from my recollections are any indication, I'll count my blessings that I was already married by that point."
She rests her elbows against the table, leaning in. "Must have been hard raising kids during residency."
His eyebrows hitch up in recognition. "Aye! Abigail was a saint for putting up with the hours. I could barely keep my eyes open for longer than an hour when I'd get home."
Meredith's throat bobs unsteadily as she swallows. "Some—sometimes, I wish I'd had mine sooner. I wish I'd been ready sooner. Then—" Her voice cracks in agony, tears pricking at the back of her eyes uncomfortably, "Then, they would have had more time with Derek."
She runs her hand through her hair, clearing her throat to try to mask her sniffles. Hayes locks eyes with her. No pity, just understanding.
"I've wondered quite a fair about that myself. If the boys were lucky to have gotten the time they did with Abigail or if... if knowing what an amazing mom she was made things infinitely harder for them. They have all these memories and they can cherish them, but they can also miss her so deeply." Hayes shrugs, the answer evading him still.
"Ellis is starting to have all these questions about Derek. She—she never met him, you know. I'm not sure I ever told you that. Bailey was so young, too. They don't remember, so they don't miss him per se, but they miss the idea of a dad. Zola tries to help, but her memories are starting to fade too."
"So, it falls on your shoulders to keep his memory alive for them? To relive those moments for them?" He understands her painful dilemma without her having to put it to words.
"Yeah." She snorts, "They want stories of what he was like, what they had in common, if he would have loved them, if he would have played with them. Then it just—it becomes too much. And I start wondering what the questions will evolve into when they get older. If they had their own memories, I wonder if it would be easier. For them and for me."
Hayes hums for a time. "I think it's a different kind of pain. The fact that you have to keep reliving those moments provokes a different kind of pain. With my lads, the pain that digs at my heart comes from seeing them in pain."
They both ruminate in silence for a few minutes. When the waitress comes back to clear their plates and asks if they want anything else, Meredith just requests the bill, glaring at him with no real heat before he can even attempt to offer to pay. "My treat!"
While they wait for the cheque, he must notice her getting restless because he taps his index finger on the table like he's figured something out. "You're thinking about Schmitt's case, aren't you?"
She exhales a relieved breath at not having to justify herself, accompanied by what she's sure is a sheepish smile. "I really am. Is that sad?"
He snorts playfully. "No. It makes you a surgeon."
"I never asked, but can you take a few basic general cases if we're stuck?" The fatigue bleeds through her question.
"Aye. I keep my certification up to date."
"You're a lifesaver, you know that?"
He shrugs off her praise, chuckling under his breath. "You can stop buttering me up. I'm already here."
"You're cute when you're shy."
A burst of heat floods his cheeks and she can't contain her grin.
"Here you go," the waitress says, placing the bill in the middle of the table. Meredith grabs for it before he even has a chance to move. The waitress smirks at them, "Aren't you two sweet?" Wiggling her eyebrows in Hayes' direction, the server adds, "I would hang on to her, sugar plum." With those parting words, she heads back to the bar to grab drinks for another table.
Hayes squints at Meredith from across the table, amusement vacant from his face. "Happy with yourself? I'll get back at you for that."
She giggles. "I'd like to see you try, sugar plum."
Hayes settles comfortably into a routine. For once, it's nice not to have to get accustomed to a new place. To simply know where every nook and cranny is and not look like a complete newbie, dazed and confused. At times, it feels like he never left and never will again. But he has to dispel himself of that notion. He cannot stay. Absolutely not. His mum would get on a plane and drag him back. Not to mention the lads. This would definitely be the final straw for them, a visit to the asylum not far behind for him.
He can't deny he feels at ease in a way he didn't before he left. The assaulting chaos of that time, the mounting dread of the holidays, the lack of truly dependable friends, it had all threatened to submerge him. But for the last two weeks, it's been a joy—an eye-opening one—to settle into what Meredith and him never got to fully develop... the honest part of their friendship, the liberation and freedom to talk about anything and everything.
The only buzzkill... the threat of time. His repeated mentions of temporary status don't stop Meredith from working overtime to convince him to stay, the most outlandish reasons to remain sprouting forth. If she wasn't such an outstanding surgeon, he could picture her with a career as a TV writer.
She sidles up to him at the peds nurses' station. "Don't you miss it here?"
His eyebrows squish together, wondering where she's going with this out-of-the-blue line of questioning. He hums, non-committal. "Hmm."
She's not deterred. Not in the least. "I mean, don't you miss not having to chart by hand?"
He snorts. "Aye, that's one bloody good reason why I miss it here. Not the people, not you... It's all about the charting."
She huffs out an annoyed breath. "I mean, people have moved for less."
Her unrepentant defense of the ridiculous amuses him to no end. "Really? You'd move to another country because the hospital charting system was better?"
"If it was leaps and bounds better, no question."
He just hears muttered grumblings as he walks away, snickering to himself.
At the end of the day, it's the sentiment behind her efforts that gets to him. It's the unfailing desire that lights him up and burns him bright. It's the sentiment he attaches meaning to. Perhaps more than he should, or perhaps not enough.
As they're scrubbing in for their first surgery together since he's been back, she persists. "Don't you miss Bohkee? She sure misses her Irish hunk."
He didn't know his cheeks could feel that hot, and he's thankful for the surgical mask. He keeps scrubbing the soap along every inch of his hands. But soon enough denial arrives, disbelief dripping from his voice, "Irish hunk? Now you're just making stuff up."
Meredith tuts, defending her claim. "Nope! Those words came out of her mouth, hand to God."
"Well, if you're bringing God into this... I've never known you to be religious, Dr. Grey."
It's her turn to blush, his use of her title inspiring butterflies in her stomach. "You're Irish. I figured bringing God into it would sell my point for me."
"Okay, Bokhee misses me. But what about Linda?" he asks jokingly.
"From accounting? I've been too scared to see her because you're all she ever talks about."
He chuckles into his mask. "You're right. Her persistence would probably turn me off from staying in Seattle."
"You see? I know you."
He answers honestly, his eyes locking with hers to express what his words alone can't sufficiently convey, "You do know me. More than anyone."
Two days later, Meredith is camped out in his makeshift office, hiding from... everyone. Well, everyone except him. After getting back into the grind of things at GSM, he can concur that in their despair, the residents have become a tad needier than he remembers them. He has fun hiding from them with her.
"You know, if this stay becomes permanent, I can get you a better office. Overlooking the courtyard or even the Sound..." Meredith's voice trails off, letting the idea linger in the air.
Her constant reminders never cease to entertain him and make him feel special. He decides to play along. "Who would we have to push out?"
From his seat at the desk, he watches her pucker her lips in concentration, a deep frown crinkling her forehead. "How about Abbott? There's been so many complaints against him, he's due for some formal reprimand."
"He's still here?"
She glances up at him with a look of exasperation. "I know, right? I would have thought he'd be the first one out the door."
"His office isn't bad, but how about Nelson?"
Meredith's hands immediately go up to her mouth to stem the rising laugh, but she's unable to rein it in.
"What?"
"We—" she chokes back a snicker, "we used to call him 'Shadow Shepherd'. I still do in my head."
"After Amelia?"
"No, Derek. But I guess Amelia too. He's always passed over for Head of Neuro in favour of a Shepherd. Poor guy. I don't have it in me to take his office away from him."
Hayes laughs. "Aye, let's give the poor bloke some victories."
She leaps up, snapping her fingers together before waving her index about like the best idea has just come to her. "Gersh! He owes me a favour. And his office is huge!"
"What would everyone think if they knew you were bargaining with their offices? And what favour does Gersh owe you?" He slips in the last question, intrigued.
She shrugs like it's no big deal. "I wrote his daughter a recommendation letter that helped her get into Dartmouth."
"Did she deserve your help?"
"I think so. She's volunteered a lot at the hospital. Since she was a kid. Always positive, always ready to lend a helping hand wherever she was needed. Had a real interest in medicine. And she seemed to be here for the right reasons, you know? Not just to pad her college admission. That seems more and more rare these days."
"And now you want to leverage your good deed by taking Gersh's office?" he teases.
With a loud, gruff sigh, she throws a pillow at him. "I'll ask him politely, hoping my winks will induce him to see reason."
Hayes muffles a laugh. "Your winks? Show me these magical winks so we can test out their powers."
At her demonstration that looks more like a baby's awkward blinking than a seductive wink, an explosion of cackles erupts from his chest.
"You didn't leave me time to prepare! I can't just wink on command!"
That just compounds his chuckles that soon morph into snickers. She's not immune to his laughs as she soon joins in.
Meredith invites him to dinner almost every night, probably for his above-average cooking skill. Her kids agree to anything that prevents her from cooking, considering it a blessing. On one such night, the conversation turns deeper.
As she's washing the dishes and he's scrubbing the table clean, she takes a sly peek at him over her shoulder, wondering aloud, "Do you have a lot of friends in Ireland?"
She rarely calls it home. Perhaps in hope, or self-preservation. And she might be on to something. Doesn't the saying go home is where the heart is? Well... his heart's been parked in Meredith's hands for a long time now.
He answers honestly, "Some. Not many."
"No old childhood friends?" she questions with interest gleaming a little too hard, trying and failing to affect nonchalance.
His cleaning hand stills, studying her closely, trying to suss out any hidden meaning behind her words. "Most have moved. And of the ones who are left, none are doctors. It makes it difficult to sustain a steady friendship when my schedule is as erratic as it is."
She turns back to the sink, humming under her breath.
"Why do you ask?"
She takes her time to answer, almost like she's waiting for the right words to come to her. "You have friends here. Lots and lots of surgeons." The syrupy quality of her voice reminds him of a kid trying to finagle something—anything—from his parents.
He tips his head down to hide the smile fighting to break free. "Is that so?"
"Yep! You've got me, Maggie, Amelia, Winston, Link, Jo, Richard, Teddy and Owen if they ever deign to grace us with their presence again. Hell, even Bailey likes you. You know how hard that is to achieve?"
In the span of a week, they're up to three convoluted attempts to get him to stay in Seattle. Or is it four? He's lost count.
What he has to say next deserves some kind of intimacy. He walks up behind her, placing the dish rag he's holding on the counter by the dish drainer. Meredith freezes at his nearness. Leaning his hip against the countertop, he folds his arms over his chest, stretching out the moment passed her comfort zone.
"You know it's you, right?"
She peers up at him from beneath her lashes, confusion marring her face. "What?"
"It's you. You're the best selling point for me to stay. I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you. The hospital is just the hospital. The others are added bonuses, but it's you. Not being around you every day... that's the real torture. That's what I miss the most."
If his life were a movie, she'd fall into his arms and he'd welcome the feeling with an open heart. But as it stands, he tends to downplay his feelings.
He changes the subject before she has time to wrap her head around his confession. "I have a surprise. Which I hope you like. And don't refuse outright." He prefaces by adding, "I cleared it with the Chief."
She frowns. "I'm the Chief."
"The Chief of Chiefs," he clarifies.
Meredith turns off the running water, grabbing the hand towel by her side. Quiet hangs in the air while she pats her hands dry.
It's her turn to park her hands on her hips, a power stance if he's ever seen one. "Okay. Lay it on me."
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. While he unlocks it and searches for what he wants to show her, he can sense her fidgeting in place. Once he finds what he's looking for, he turns the phone in her direction. Meredith carefully takes the device in her hand, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration.
"You can swipe to the left to see more pictures," he explains.
"What am I looking at?"
"Where you're going this weekend."
At that, her head whirls up. "What?"
"I booked it." It being an amazing three-bedroom cottage by a tranquil lake. "For you and the kids, this weekend. And me, if you'll have me." He rambles to fill her uncharacteristic silence, "It's got a bedroom with two bunk-beds for the kids. Running water and electricity, obviously. Can't subject you to the wilderness. And it's lake front. They even have two kayaks and a canoe."
"Why?" she croaks out.
He slips the phone on the counter, taking her hands in his and squeezing. "You deserve a break. A real break. It's been go-go-go since the pandemic, and if you don't take some time off, I'm afraid you'll burn out. And miss out on this time with the kids." He can't help but add, "While they still like you."
She snorts. "My kids will love me even when they hit puberty."
"It must be nice to live in delusions," he concludes.
She pinches his hand in retaliation, despite his best attempts to evade.
"So, what do you say?" he asks, his voice brimming with hope.
"You're sure there's running water and power?"
"Positive. I called to confirm."
Untangling their hands, her arms circle themselves around his midsection and she burrows against him. "Thank you for this. And yes, you can come. Obviously."
The heat from her body wraps itself around him. His hand goes to her nape, and he just stands there, in her quiet kitchen, wistful of what he'll have to leave behind when he goes back to Ireland.
"That's very gracious of you. And you're welcome," he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against her ear.
With the way things were going at the hospital, if someone had told Meredith last week that she'd be basking in the sunlight, perched on a lounge chair, enjoying the giggles of her children as they played in the sand, she'd have dismissed it outright as ludicrous nonsense. But the warmth kissing her skin begs to differ.
All too soon, a shadow looms by her side. Fighting the blinding sun beams, she manages to crack one eye open at the interruption and is not remotely disappointed.
Dusted with a smattering of hair and a nice sheen from the sweat, Hayes' bare chest transfixes her, his rippling bicep muscles only adding to her drooling. He catches her thorough examination. Gawking is more like it. Flashing her his signature smirk, all coherent thoughts flee. She's sure her eyes are playing tricks on her when she sees signs of his biceps flexing. It's so unlike him to put on a show for her. Enticing her, exciting and tantalizing her, playing with her fragile emotions.
She sits up and wraps her arms around her shins. Before long, the staring contest between them is interrupted.
"Mama! Look!"
When she does look, Meredith sees her jubilant youngest pointing to her less-than-geometric sand castle.
"Picture! Picture!" Ellis demands, clapping her hands in excitement.
Hayes laughs, fondness glossing over his face.
Meredith reaches for her phone. "Hold still, baby." She takes the picture. "Done."
He takes the lounge chair next to hers, stretching his legs out and placing his right arm behind his neck. Meredith shifts onto her side to face him.
"Did I thank you for this?"
He smiles, eyes closed and face upturned towards the sun. "Aye, many times."
"Good." Her own eyes flutter shut, relishing the tenderness of his voice.
They lay lazily side by side, simply enjoying the calm in the usual tornado of their lives.
Once the kids are mercifully put to bed after they've exhausted themselves in the sun and water, Meredith and Hayes escape to the fire pit, two glasses of wine in hand, only the surrounding forest and each other for company.
"How has it been for you? Being back in Seattle?" She infuses her voice with honesty, hoping he feels comfortable to respond in kind.
He glances sideways, pining her with a gaze that whispers intentions and spells her future. "Less difficult than I imagined."
"Hmm. Why is that?"
He raises an eyebrow at her. "You know why."
They linger in the silence, the warmth from the fire sizzling around them.
Her overwhelming emotions at his impending departure pop the bubble. "I don't want you to leave." She chokes back a sob, shaking her head to suppress the swell of tears. "I never wanted you to leave."
The air around them comes alive, awareness zapping left and right, the gust of wind accompanying her words only highlighting it. She stares straight ahead, concentrating on the flames and ignoring his reaction. Trying to, at least.
Hayes doesn't let her mind devolve into chaos for long. He kneels before her, his hands framing her face tenderly and brushing the hair out of her eyes. His forehead bows slowly towards hers, bringing their lips inches apart, his nose grazing hers in a sensual move. Tension mounts and her lips part. A heartbeat passes, and her face wilts at his lack of action.
"If I kiss you right now, I won't be able to go back." His breath feathers her cheeks. "And I do have to say goodbye. Because if not, the people at the loony bin will come for me for moving my lads four times in four years."
She deflates, sadness gripping her as much as understanding. "You don't even want to tide me over? Until we can see each other again."
When he smiles broadly at her lighthearted plea, his right eye crinkles just a little bit more than his left. "Well, when you put it like that—" Fisting his hand in her hair, he tilts her head back, surrendering to her. He closes what little distance remains between them and claims her mouth as his.
On his lips, Meredith tastes forever. And a sense of complete belonging after being starved for so long. Slanting her lips over his, she pours every feeling her body possesses into the kiss. His hands snake down her back, heat rolling up her spine right alongside them. Years of taunting desire boil over, slowly at first and then all at once. Meredith's desperation for more—skin to skin contact, him inside her—fans the flames roaring inside her.
He pulls back first, resting his forehead back against hers, haggard pants leaving his chest. Softly sweeping his thumb over her puffy lower lip, the sensual stroking only serves to fuel the fire within her. Lost in each other's gaze, the momentous moment settles over them.
When their breathing finally begins to relax, Hayes rasps out, bringing their realities back to the forefront, "It will be at least a couple of years."
"What's a few years in the grand scheme of things," she reassures him, a hopeful tinge in her voice. Her hands rest on the nape of his neck, her fingers caressing his soft skin. "How's Dublin around Christmastime?"
He sucks in a surprised—and eternally relieved—breath. "My ma makes a mean mince pie and an exquisite trifle."
"Sound like I'll need to pack a few sweatpants," she teases blissfully and optimistically, her lips hovering over his in pure torture.
Avoiding temptation, he rises to his feet, no longer the young sprite he once was, and offers her his hand. Bemused, she takes it with no hesitation and squeezes. In another surprise move, he steals her seat, drags her onto his lap and envelops his arms around her, one kiss zooming their relationship from 0 to 60 in the blink of an eye.
Meredith snuggles into a comfortable position, curling her legs up and tucking her face in the crook of his neck.
"You know it won't be easy?" he whispers into the night, worry trembling along his throat.
"I know," she murmurs, ready to fight. Once again. For a noble purpose, this time... love.
She doesn't placate them with a Hallmark-worthy line like "Nobody ever said love comes easy", even though she believes they both deserve easy after years of hard.
Instead, they just talk for hours about whatever pops into their minds.
"What's your favourite colour?" she wonders.
"Really?"
She shrugs and gazes up at him, all doe-eyed.
"As an Irishman, if I say green, would that be too cliché?"
"Borderline. Depends why you chose green."
"The colour of your eyes," he answers, hints of mirth wrapping themselves around his words.
She pinches his bicep lightly. "That's too cheesy. Even for you"
His blithe chuckle rumbles through her. "My real answer will also be cliché... Green reminds me of home. Of calm and freshness. Now, it also reminds me of Seattle. A second home of sorts."
"There are worse reasons to like a colour."
He peers down at the top of her head. "Like what?"
"Because it's the favourite colour of your favourite singer. That was Ellis' answer last week when she decided to change from green to purple out of the blue."
Their conversation ranges from the most mundane to the more meaningful.
He expels a sorrowful breath into the air. "Abigail would hate what I've become."
"Probably. But the ones who left us behind haven't been in our shoes. They have no room to judge." Meredith feels his astonishment at her honesty, his tense chest giving him away.
"Something you'd like to share with the class?"
She stews a bit before quelling his curiosity. "I—When I was on the vent, Derek was—he was there somehow. Or a figment of him was there. Wherever there was. It was hard seeing him. He looked older than I remembered, like he'd aged somehow or my mind was trying to picture him that way—still full of life left to live. He—he asked me to stop torturing myself. Practically ordered me to keep living and stop running away from the people that make me happy. He said it was hard for him to see me alone."
She clamps up, the very idea of Derek encouraging her to open herself up to anyone other than him still baffling her.
Hayes picks up quickly on her discomfort. "It must have been strange to hear such talk from him."
Muted, she nods against Hayes' chest, remembering the battle within her to either stay with Derek or fight to come back to her kids.
Intertwined in each other's arms, conversation ebbs and flows. Eventually, the soothing timbre of his voice lulls her into a restful slumber, not unlike the bedtime lullabies she heard about but never received from her mother.
Hours later, the first rays of sunlight that rouse her from sleep cannot warm her as much as the feeling of his arms cocooning her.
If only I could stay like this forever, she thinks.
When they get back to the city, the air surrounding them has changed. The people close to her notice subtle—to them, monumental to her—changes. A graze here, a heated look there. All topped off with clandestine kisses, roaming hands and panting breaths. Never more. Meredith and Hayes both seem mindful of not pushing things too far. Like the thought of him leaving once their world has forever shifted would be excruciating. As if it hasn't already tilted off its axis.
The number of meals shared in private and with her family are countless. With so little time left to his stay, the thought of passing even a single moment away from him pains her. And thankfully, he seems to feel the same way. Rarely can you find one of them without the other. They don't want to be classified as needy, but they do have an overwhelming need to be in each other's presence and stave off the impending loss. Can that really be categorized as needy?
She's not the only one who appreciates Hayes' return. All the residents gravitate towards his calm demeanour, all the nurses giggle and make eyes at him. Even Link has taken to using Hayes as a sounding board for his romantic troubles. In summary, his presence has infused a breath of fresh air in the hospital. Not only that, but he's brought the hospital—and her—good luck. Luck of the Irish, as he would say. A few days before he's due to return to Ireland, Meredith gets word that, following a few changes, the hospital can reapply for surgical residency accreditation the following quarter. The proctor let it slip that a stamp of approval is almost guaranteed, given the state of the hemorrhaging healthcare system. Running to tell Hayes the news floods her veins with joy. As does his blinding smile. There's never been any doubt he's been in this fight with her from the very beginning, even from thousands of miles away.
Even though things are still up in the air, at the hospital and in her life, the sense of eventuality between them washes over her and settles her.
Distance? she thinks. What is distance but a number?
When the day of his departure comes, Hayes is not surprised to discover he's not remotely ready to say goodbye again. Nor is he equipped for the tsunami of emotions invading him. Time flying doesn't even come close to describing how quickly the past month has come and gone. Warped speed would be more accurate. He thought being close to Meredith again would soothe him, but the preview of what he could have leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
With the flurry of travellers scurrying around the security checkpoint, Hayes questions Meredith's decision to drop him off at the airport. She seemed adamant and he could rarely refuse her, but the lack of privacy doesn't let him do what he wants to do. Doesn't let him say what he wants to say.
"You can't beat Seattle seafood. So healthy for you," she says in a sing-song voice. And he loves her all the more for still trying to convince to stay. He marvels at her persistence, flattery not too far behind.
"I think Maine would have something to say about that..." he can't help teasing right back.
She pouts, glancing down at her shuffling feet. "I'm gonna miss just bumping into you at the hospital and brightening up my day. I'm gonna miss seeing you across an OR table, with your mischievous eyes. I'm gonna miss coming home with you at the end of a long day. I'm gonna miss your arms wrapped around me. I'm gonna miss our mindless conversations and your unfailing ability to talk me off a ledge—"
"You think I won't pine for you every day for the next two years?" he asks, cutting her off with his plea. "You think I won't miss hearing your adorable snort-like giggle and the way your eyes tear up a little when you laugh? You think I won't miss your bossiness? You think I won't yearn to see your smiling face every night, right before I go to bed? You think I don't want to play football with Bailey, talk surgery with Zola and make delicious desserts with Ellis? You think I don't kick myself every single day for succumbing to my demons and running away once again?"
He eats up the space between them, discarding his carry-on at his feet to give her his full attention. Heart, body and soul. Meredith responds in kind, meeting him halfway and burying her face in his chest, her ear against his thumping heart. Their arms enclose around each other as they fit seamlessly together, clinging to one another. In this hug, their last one for a good while, years worth of pain are released, her love and steadfast belief in him filling the huge gaping hole left in his chest. Their lips need not touch, indelibly imprinted on one another.
The tension builds with every second that passes, but he thinks it's been escalating since the day he arrived in Seattle. The first time or second time, he's not sure.
He's the first to pull back, slow to break away and shatter the moment.
She's quick to hide the tear rolling down her cheek, but he drags his thumb up to catch it and lifts her tearful gaze to his.
"So, Christmas?" she croaks out.
He nods, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, freeing them of forthcoming tears, so unlike the steely surgeon he's come to know. "Aye."
"The boys will be okay with it?" she asks, a trace of fear colouring her question.
"I'll talk to them. Austin's been doing much better."
She tries for a comforting smile, but there is no name for the contortion her face makes, the amalgamation of emotions clashing together.
"Don't cry," he pleads in vain.
"I'm going to miss you. So much," she exclaims emphatically.
Sneaking his right hand around her neck, he pulls her forward and brushes his lips against her forehead. In his arms, he feels her relax.
"I have to go," he says reluctantly.
They pull apart and he grabs the forgotten bag at his feet.
"Don't forget to text when you get to New York," she reminds him.
"And once I'm in Dublin. I know."
Luck is on his side as the line to the checkpoint is scarce. He waves goodbye and tries to erase the forlorn look on Meredith's face from his memory. Once he's passed security, he doesn't look back. He can't. His resolve will falter if he does, his soul already stretching in her direction.
A new type of pain lances through his heart. Longing just beneath the surface of his skin, longing for something real, longing for what he's gotten a glimpse of but not a full picture. Fear twists in his gut. Fear that this is it. The closest they'll ever come to 'them', whatever 'them' could become.
As he settles in for the long wait at his gate, his phone vibrates.
Meredith : Don't be sad.
He feels his lips quirking up into a smile.
Hayes : How do you know I'm sad?
Meredith : Because you were working overtime to comfort me.
Hayes : I don't want to leave.
Meredith : Two years is nothing. I've had hangovers that have lasted longer.
Hayes : Now I'm worried for entirely different reasons.
Meredith : This is it for me. You. You're it. So, stop worrying. I'm always going to be here for you.
And with that, the fear dissipates and hope blooms.