TRIAGE | grey's anatomy (ON HOLD INDEFINITELY)

021: "searching the blue"

(a third person chapter in small celebration of 15k + something else at the end of this chapter that you probably wanna check out!! i love you all so much it makes my heart burst. thank you thank you thank you)

MEREDITH'S HOUSE ERUPTED IN HORRIFIC SCREAMS AT 3:07 A.M. They echoed against the walls, slipping underneath door frames and rousing the inhabitants of 613 Harper Lane faster than any alarm clock or pager ever could. It was raw and sharper than a scalpel slicing into skin-- and it was coming from behind Clementine's door.

George was the first out of his room-- hair sticking up like a porcupine-- and was followed closely by Izzie and Meredith, all in their pajamas. They stared at the empty hallway, at the stagnant air that should've been vibrating with a soprano pitch, in utter bewilderment. Just when the three, still silent and half-asleep, thought it must've been a figment of their collective imagination, a wailing of words rang clear from the room at the far end of the hallway.  

"NO! GET OUT, GET THE FUCK OUT, NO! PLEASE, PLEASE, LEAVE!"

Meredith roused herself first, pulling her robe tight across her chest as she prepared internally for what she might find, and grabbed the baseball bat clutched in George's hands. She didn't bother knocking-- this was her damn house, and it sounded like one of her favorite people was getting axe murdered-- and instead swung open the door with one smooth motion. Meredith raised her weapon-wielding arm as she saw a tall figure lurking in the entryway, near Clem's worn-down dresser, but lowered it slightly when she recognized him.

It was the man from the bar (Mason, maybe, was what Clementine had whispered proudly before they'd left for the night), in a pair of boxers with his leather belt in one hand and his other raised in mock surrender. The bedroom was dark, the only light leaking in through the open window with curtains blowing softly around it.

"What the hell were you doing to her?" Izzie yelled from behind Meredith, grabbing the man's arm and dragging him out of the room. She had a phone pressed to her ear, and was speed-dialing Alex. Although Iz would never admit it, their relationship intimidated her. But in this moment, she wasn't concerned with how tender Alex seemed to be when it came to Clem; all she could think about was his full-ride wrestling scholarship and the man passing six foot that had made Clementine scream in fear that was in their hallway.

Mason scoffed. "I did nothing, I swear. She just freaked. Prude!"

He called the last part out loud enough for anyone to hear, eyes darting back to the room hidden in shadows. Before she could think, Mer smacked him upside the head, and then looked around at her roommates in confusion. How in the hell would she handle this situation? Was she kicking out a one-night-stand Clem regretted, or was it something more?

George was still stock-still, halfway in his room, eyes wider than golfballs protruding from his head. He was so tired, so unsure. Mer looked at him harshly, then tossed her own cell from her robe pocket. He caught it clumsily.

"Call Derek," Meredith demanded, her voice harsh. "Now."

"Listen," Mason laughed, like this was all one big misunderstanding. "You don't need to call anybody. I'm gonna finish what I--"

Izzie bodyblocked him quickly, hands on her waist, trying to seem commanding in her nightgown. "You are not going anywhere near her."

Meredith left Izzie and George to interrogate him in the hall, confident in Iz's self-titled trailer park fighting prowess, and peeked into Clementine's room. It took some time for her eyes to adjust, but what she found splintered her thoughts and soul into tiny pieces over the floorboard.