𝙄𝙄𝙄.
BLINK AND IT'S BEEN FIVE YEARS

──────

HER HAIR WAS shorter than I remembered it being.

She was different; she was old. Or at least, she looked as though she'd aged. The emotional impact of what was happening was causing her to wither and wilt before my gaze.

Her eyes were wide, her mouth was agape and there was a whole host of different emotions playing out across her face. I couldn't quite pick out a significant expression, there were too many-- she'd always been like me, constantly feeling too much all at the same time. However, the difference between the two of us is that she had been more skilled at hiding it.

The tables had turned now. I fought to keep my face emotionless, I met her astounded gaze and kept my chin high.

I channelled my observations on how her arms fell to her sides, her lips slowly closed and her fingers tremored slightly as she began to think of a million things to say-- it was a Montgomery thing, a blessing and a curse. I could tell she was going through a rolodex of a million different apologies, struggling to figure out which one she should dust off and use for today.

But then there was the dilemma of the radio silence, four years of resentment and me ranting about her in therapy. Four years of Addison sat on the other side of the world, my absence reminding her of what she'd done.

That had been her punishment. I hadn't come here to fight. But I supposed that I hadn't exactly come here to make peace either.

My pep talk had considered forgiveness only fleetingly. It was a cursed topic. Again, I was never fond of forgive and forget- always a poster child for resent and remember, and Addison knew that very well.

I hoped that she wouldn't seek forgiveness because if she did, then I'd have to find it within myself to give it to her.

"Oh, Elizabeth."

Unsurprisingly, she sounded exhausted. Idly, I wondered whether she'd had any sleep since she'd reached Seattle-- or whether she'd had a good nights sleep in the last four years at all?

Did we haunt her? A little part of me hoped that I did.

"Addison."

I didn't sound as exhausted as I felt.

I sounded robotic, unattached, completely unaffected. I sounded different and that's when my gaze travelled.

I looked away from Addison, to the two men stood at her side.

At first, seeing Derek stood at her side inflicted a shock onto me; I selfishly saw it as a side that had been chosen, my brain initially choosing to interpret Derek as a traitor, despite the whole conversation we'd had beforehand. But, thankfully, after years of misuse, my little voice of common sense piped up, reminding me that this was about Archer, about my brother and not about bad blood between siblings- my shoulders relaxed after that silent revelation.

On her other side stood Sam. He was hesitantly looking between the two of us, but had this satisfaction in his eye as if he was watching the end of a movie, where a deus ex machina brought a beautiful resolution to a disaster. I inwardly scoffed. Dr Feelgood was acting awfully naive.

This wasn't a movie. It wasn't cinematic in the way that silence seemed to prickle my skin and Addison's breathing seemed to mellow-- well, that was until my sister started sobbing.

And no amount of psychology training or studying could've prepared me for what followed.

Addison Montgomery took three strides towards me and suddenly enveloped me in her arms, squeezing me tight into her chest.

I was abruptly caught up in a cloud of expensive perfume, a haze that caused me to splutter incredulously as Addison mewled all of the emotions that a grown woman could pent up. The action was so sudden that I was caught into the hug, my eyes going wide and my gaze straying over towards Derek whose eyes glittered softly as if this was a beautiful moment.

I shot him a look and for it, it shattered. My message was clear. This was not a moment of resolution, just a peace treaty for the sake of Archer.

I allowed Addison her four years of tears.

Her short, red-hair was tousled and it was almost all that I could see as she pressed her head into my shoulder as if I was the last person on earth. Her arms were wrapped around me tightly as if she never planned on letting me go. I, on the other hand, let my arms stay pinned at my side, looking shell-shocked as Addie let out long sobs.

I was sure that the blonde doctor from before was either long gone or seriously confused.

It was after a long pregnant moment that I decided to cut Addison's pity parade short.

"Addie-" I attempted to pry her off of me, but she had the grip of a vice, holding me with an iron grip. I sucked in a breath, smelling the scent of her familiar lavender perfume.

This took me back to the days of long days roaming the world outside of our backyard door. It took me back to the days of laughing over movies and poking fun at Archer's failed teen dating and dressing up in the bedroom mirror.

It took me back to the times that I'd gone to Addie for comfort when Archer hadn't been there, which was incidentally the whole time we'd been in New York. It took me back to low-quality Chinese take-out in her townhouse, with me in tears over how my relationships seemed to always fall apart.

I gritted my teeth, my eyes burned slightly but I blinked furiously. "Addison-"

"I'm so glad you're here Beth," My sister confessed almost inaudibly. I could feel the moisture from her tears through my t-shirt, making my skin feel cold and vulnerable. I hated that feeling. Her grip loosened slightly. "I'm so-so glad. I wasn't sure whether you'd come-"

"Why wouldn't I?" Despite my reluctance to fight, I had an edge of repugnance about me. I recoiled away from her at her words; of course, I'd come for Archer. Was I really that shitty of a sister? "Archer's ill, I'm not that cruel."

Addison's arms fell away from me, and in a small, pathetic step, I saw that the tears were still sliding down her cheeks but her initial shock-induced sobs were long gone.

Her hard eyes watched as I tilted my head, fighting back the tears which had threatened to appear. She took another step backwards.

"Beth-" Her voice was soft. "No, I didn't mean it like that-"

I looked at her, hoping that I looked at least a fraction of how I felt inside. Dead, bored, agitated? My face must've been more tragic than a scene painted on the side of a Greek vase. Realisation filtered through her eyes.

"I know." I lied.

Sometimes situations required lies. Sometimes you were restraining yourself from spilling four years of unspoken anger, restraining yourself from throwing away years of therapy and going straight for the jugular- I'd been known to get physical when I was drunk, but fortunately for Addison that little glass of wine from earlier left me with a clear mind.

Addison reminded me so much of a small child.

She'd always been so fragile, so unsettled. She'd been the sibling that had been babied, that had been pruned and groomed and dressed pretty, given everything she needed to bloom into the prettiest flower-- unfortunately, with that had come emotional issues, like the inability to hold her chin up when faced with the consequences of the past. I, if you couldn't tell, hadn't had that sort of childhood.

Maybe that's why Derek appeared as a traitor; he'd stood close to Addison, almost like her caregiver, her emotional relief that was helping her through this loyally. God, I hated that word. Loyalty. How Derek could stand there and help her, I didn't know for a split second.

I'd learnt to internalise my emotions. I'd learnt to just dig my heels into the ground and stick through the thick and thin. Maybe that's why I'd been the one sibling to go crazy. Maybe Addison had the right idea.

I let out an even breath. "I'm going to stay here for as long as Archer needs me and then I'm going to head back out to Indonesia, where I'm needed."

Addison's face betrayed a look of heartbreak, but she didn't speak.

I knew that she needed me.

Hell, a blind person would be able to see that Derek was being set on edge by the tension. If he felt anything like I did when it came to my ex, about Addison, I wouldn't have been surprised if his whole being was urging him to exit the room and bang his head repeatedly on a wall. A muscle was jumping in his jaw- he was uncomfortable, he was antsy-- I recognised that clearly, I was sure I looked the exact same.

I got feverish when I was uncomfortable, and I felt hot under the collar in that moment. I'd memorised all of Derek's nervous ticks, but he'd memorised mine. I knew Addison's too, but she was too much of a mess for anything to be coherent.

"You're welcome to stay with me if you need to." Derek supplied, giving me a soft smile as I continued to look at him.

There was a brief pause as Addison dropped her eyes to the ground as if suddenly hit full-force by the overwhelming shame that I'd always known she'd carry. I gave my ex-brother-in-law a gracious smile. But then I turned back to my sister and the smile slid off of my face.

For the briefest moment, I wished that I was the type of person that could forgive her so easily. She was my sister, the woman who had helped me through the nastiest parts of some of my past relationships, offered me a home when I was moving out of my comfort zone-- but she'd also stood back and watched me sink faster than the Titanic.

She'd hogged the life floats and even convinced me that I was going insane in the process. I'd trusted her and I just couldn't see that trust returning in the near future.

But Derek hadn't warmed up to her either.

He appeared distant.

He was doing this for her, he was looking after Archer for Addison, but he wasn't visibly happy about it. Between the stress of the upcoming surgery (Derek had already filled me in on Archer's surgical plan, he was planning a long haul surgery and I was in between mentally preparing myself for it and vomiting just out of pure stress) and everything just coming to a climax in our personal lives, I was sure that Derek wasn't having the best time of his life right now.

"Did you want to go and get a coffee?" Addison's question was innocent, careful. Her voice was small and meek, it didn't suit her. I was used to her being sure about her every word. She must have caught the unfiltered grimace that I didn't quite catch, as she hesitated.

"I was actually about to go see if I could take a nap..." My lie was caught red-handed by Sam who shook his head in disappointment in the background. I resisted the scowl that I just wanted to throw his way. "Maybe another time."

The smile I shot her was empty. I felt awfully mechanical as I went to turn and walk away.

"Beth- I-"

"Addie, please," I turned towards my older sister, desperation seeping into my voice. "I've had a long day... some flights-- I don't want to talk- I don't want this-- right now-"

My tiredness was crashing into me and I really didn't feel like having that conversation right now. She reacted oddly to my use of her nickname, a force of habit. She'd started forwards towards me but faltered, her mouth in a thin line and her eyebrows upturned.

I don't want to talk to you.

My message was clear and Addison received it.

Her shoulders fell. "Okay. I'll be in Archer's room if you need me."

Another empty smile, a nod, and I was turning away. However, just as always, my hasty exit was interrupted.

"Stevens can you take Elizabeth to the cafeteria and make sure that she gets something to eat--" Derek said to a person over my shoulder, "Make sure she gets something solid to eat and gets some rest, in an on-call room if needs be-- use force if necessary."

I glanced over my shoulder, slightly surprised that the blonde photogenic surgical resident was still there. She looked at Derek with bright, attentive eyes and nodded loyally, in the same eager manner that Lexie had had in the car while ferrying me through Seattle.

I rolled my eyes, shooting him a bland and unamused look. "I'm not a child."

"Then stop acting like one." He said back. Derek gave me one last brilliant smile, before he lead my tearful sister away, with a dubious Sam in tow. I watched them go, with a storm brewing at the back of my head, but then my attention turned to Stevens.

"Hi! I'm Izzie!"

A dazzling smile lit her lips as her vast blue eyes spoken a thousand things. Going from a dark and gloomy exchange that I'd just had to her sudden sunshine smile was like glaring straight into the sun after it'd appeared from behind a storm cloud. I almost squinted at her.

"Welcome to Seattle Grace!"

***

─── "Has she eaten anything at all?"

The canteen at Seattle Grace Hospital was like many hospital canteen's I'd had the misfortune to sit in. It was littered with people, a mass amount of doctors who all were sat in slumps of utter exhaustion, and a few timid-looking people who must've had family members who were admitted to the hospital.

Ever so often, I would double-glance at a man with salt-and-pepper hair, or slide down considerably in my seat as a doctor in an attendings scrubs- of which Derek had informed me were dark blue- appeared.

I was sat on a table with two other people with a full tray of food (an apple, a slice of pizza, a jello pot and a banana) alongside two empty Styrofoam cups of coffee and some which were even yet untouched. Slouched in my chair with a dead look in my eye, I leant heavily on my hand, my eyes lingering on my nails.

Maybe while I was in Seattle I'd get a manicure, that'd be a nice treat. I hadn't had anything nice in a while.

As I sat there with my cloud of self-loathing and self-pity hanging over me, the two other people on my table were having a hushed conversation, eyes stuck on me just like the interns outside Archie's room.

One of the duo was the doctor who had escorted me to the canteen, Dr Stevens, or Izzie as she'd insisted. She was sitting there with a cup of coffee in her hand, leaning back heavily and staring at me, as if she was expecting me to suddenly sprout a second head of just explode into a cloud of dark smoke.

I was almost tempted to humour her and flip the table or something.

On her left, there was a short, mousy-haired man, with round doe eyes. Both of them were dressed in blue scrubs, which meant that they weren't as important as Derek, but I had a feeling they weren't interns. They didn't have this desperate aura around them like the interns did. The interns were desperate to impress, whereas the two doctors in front of me just looked as though they'd been given a non-refundable ticket to the Beth-Montgomery-Babysitting-Gig.

"She's barely touched anything."

I wasn't sure whether they knew that I could hear them, they weren't exactly being discreet. They'd just been having the loveliest chat about what they'd been up to today and in passing Izzie had brought up babysitting.

They made it so easy to eavesdrop that I wondered whether it was in their nature to be rude or whether they were just stupid.

"But she's downed like five cups of coffee—I'm scared she's going to grow three heads or explode." The blonde doctor eyed me as I tilted my head, now becoming very interested in the soft pattern on the lunch table.

Her friend frowned. "So, Shepherd assigned you to look after her? Is she his sister or—"

"She's Dr Montgomery's sister," Izzie answered, causing my eye to twitch. The doctors here definitely didn't have any issue with being rude. She must've missed the sigh that fell through my lips. "God, I kind of feel sorry for her- It must be hard to have someone like that for an older sister-"

"My name is Beth."

The two doctors paused as my voice interjected them curtly.

Izzie stopped instantly, her eyes going wide as I looked up from my nails and gazed at the two of them nonchalantly. The man looked away quickly, his ears burning red as he realised that they'd been caught red-handed gossiping about me.

"My brother is Derek- Dr Shepherd's patient." I picked up the apple from my tray and bit into it with half-hearted laziness. I really didn't feel like being conscious. "But yeah, Addison's my older sister and to answer your question-- I think I'd rather have three heads."

The second doctor stared at me for a few moments, making me wonder if there was something on the side of my face. I met his gaze and frowned, wondering why the hell the doctors in this place were so odd. His hair was tousled over his forehead, his eyes studying every inch of the way I slowly lifted the Styrofoam cup to my lips.

"Oh." The doctor said suddenly, as if it had just out of the blue struck him how creepy he was acting. I hesitantly, drained the rest of my coffee, my brow furrowed as he turned a rather bright red. "I'm Dr O'Malley- George- Dr George O'Malley."

I peered over at the doctor and narrowed my eyes very slightly. "Pleasure."

He seemed to blanch at my reply, but before either of them could say anything, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the canteen. A familiar voice shortly exclaimed "sorry!", "excuse me!", "out of the way!" as a small brunette in a long lab coat and pale blue scrubs came skidding to a stop in front of the table.

An audible sigh fell through the male doctor, George's, lips as he looked up at the intern that I recognised who picked me up from the airport.

Lexie let out a long breath before calling out the word "Symptoms?!" quicker than I'd ever thought was even possible.

She didn't even glance over at Izzie—despite the fact the blonde was wearing what seemed to be the biggest smug grin I'd ever seen on her pretty face—nor even the little miserable woman she'd ferried across Seattle. Instead, she just seemed to latch on George desperately; it was if the poor boy had the cure for every ailment in the world.

With another resonating sight, George slowly reached into his pocket and drew out a set of perfectly neat study cards, glazing his eyes across the words that were scrawled across in petite lines. I frowned at the three doctors.

Maybe it wasn't weird; no one was giving Lexie any odd looks. Maybe this erratic behaviour was just so exclusively American that it had completely slipped my mind while globetrotting.

"I have pain during sexual intercourse in my lower pelvis." George continued to recite, what I assumed, was written on the card. His voice was completely flat and professional, but the tips of his ears flared red with embarrassment. My eyebrows rose. "I have blood spots or light bleeding between my p-periods." George's voice became slightly more strained. "Also, I have increased v-vaginal discharge."

Lexie's face was tense with concentration as she fought to come up with something. From the angle I sat, minding my business and musing over the hasty action George made to stuff the card away, it looked as though the younger woman was severely constipated or at least attempting to give birth.

"Aha!" Lexie exclaimed suddenly, throwing her hand up in the air in front of her as a thought hit her. I was taken aback by the abrupt sound, jolting and causing the empty coffee cups around me to topple over, clunking soundlessly against the floor. "Cervical Cancer!"

Izzie burst into applause as George meekly nodded. The blonde wheeled around and faced her friend, the grin still melded to her face as Lexie raced off again, nearly causing one of the cleaning staff to drop a whole bowl of freshly washed plates.

"See, this is fun, right? I told you that it would be an excellent idea!"

George didn't reply, just muttered something suspicious under his breath and took what looked like a granola bar out of his pocket.

He continued to unwrap it distractedly and stuff it into his mouth as if that would stop him from competing with the next intern that happened to pop up from nowhere. I just squinted at the two doctors, completely bewildered.

"It's great right?" Izzie averted her attention to me, her eyes bright and glistening wildly as she hopped up and down in her seat. I just stared at her with wide-eyed. "I bet you didn't do anything like this at medical school with your internship and stuff-"

In a way, she was right.

If I had to describe my surgical internship fun definitely wouldn't have been the word I would have chosen. A very brief resurgence of things I'd long kept buried teased it's way across my brain: long nights, the squeal of blood stained sneaker against tile, the shake of a pill bottle in my hand and the exhausted look on Mark Sloan's face as he looked across a hospital corridor at–

I shook my head.

"Actually, I'm not a surgeon," I said instead, causing Izzie to pause, the grin falling off of her face. She seemed to want to backtrack on what she said, but I raised a hand, cracking a slight smile. "Not anymore."

"Oh," Izzie said, then blinked quickly. "I'm sorry- uh, your sister said that you were a doctor and we just assumed-"

"I'm a psychiatrist. There's more than one type of doctor." My joke was meant to be light but Izzie looked frazzled and embarrassed. With a swift shake of my head to sweep the hair out of my eyes, I took a large bite of my apple, chewing on the fruit thoughtfully. Once I'd swallowed the mouthful and had caught George's cautious eye, I shrugged. "As you said—living with Addie and Archie is hard. You definitely don't want to become a surgeon in their shadows."

"I know what that's like," George muttered. I tilted my head at him, shooting him a questioning look. His eyes widened. "Well- uh- I have older brothers and it's like growing up in the twilight zone."

"The only one who really knows what that's like out of all of us is probably Meredith," Izzie interjected, glancing over at George as the doctor crumpled the wrapper of his bar in his hand and stuffed it away into his lab coat pocket. I leant forwards into my chair, my interest heightening.

"Meredith?" I repeated, watching as Izzie nodded her head. "What as it Derek-Meredith?"

"Yeah," Izzie said, seemingly barely fazed that I recognised the name. The blonde girl grinned at me widely as she tapped her fingers against the table idly. "Meredith Grey- as in Ellis Grey."

My eyebrows must've almost flown away into my hair. "The Ellis Grey?" Izzie's head bounced up and down as if it was attached to a bungee cord. I let out a short, low whistle. "Fuck, well now I feel like a dunce for complaining about my family. She wins with that shadow."

I had to give it to Derek, he sure knew how to pick them.

The poor girl was probably hypothermic.

***

─── "You okay?"

Izzie and George had long disappeared, leaving me all alone and brooding in the corner of the hospital canteen. I'd retreated behind a synthetic-looking potted plant, hoping that that would discourage anyone—specifically people whose names started with M and ended with ark—who might've been looking for me.

Of course, I couldn't have expected it to work against the unfathomable Dr Feelgood.

Sam appeared from the wilderness with his jacket slung over his forearm, making me almost jump from my chair. I'd come so accustomed to the soft sound of conversation around me, that his appearance almost had me falling off of my chair. The music that I'd had playing lowly in my earphones as I attempted to drift off into a form of sleep, was cut short as I looked up.

The smile I flashed was as fake as the plant beside me. "I'm doing good, thanks."

Sam's eyes seemed to trail over me. In the last few hours, I'd managed to get at least a quarter of an hour of sleep, cried for at least half an hour and drank at least half of the hospital's caffeinated supply. His eyes slid from my hunched figure to the half-finished cup of coffee and then to my fingers as they tapped nervously against the desk.

I'd staked my claim on the cafeteria. But this time in the afternoon, for some reason it was dead silent. I wasn't sure whether it was just the time of week or the fact that I looked vaguely like that one crazy homeless woman that people cross the street when they see, but I'd been alone before Sam had rolled up.

He gently eased back the chair which Izzie had long vacated in front of me, and sat down, throwing his coat on the back. I licked my lips fretfully, watching as he let out the world's longest sigh, his whole chest quaking as he leant back heavily.

Sam Bennett ran a hand over his face roughly. In that moment, I took care to register his every move and expression. Every twitch of his lips was enough to tell me everything he was hesitant to say- my mouth ran dry and I dropped my gaze down to my quaking fingers.

"Derek's taking Archer into surgery."

Sam's words were laced with this intense exasperation and exhaustion; deep-rooted despair that made my bottom lip wobble. I almost mirrored his actions, lifting my hands to wipe furiously at my eyes and concave forwards miserably.

Every time I'd attempted to fall asleep, all I could see what Archer's face. But something was different about this Archie; he wasn't joking about his deteriorating health or flipping through boring medical journals.

No, this Archer was dead.

The sight of his lifeless, cold and pasty corpse was burned into the back of my eyelids. My active imagination had laced every specific detail into my subconsciousness, causing my sobs to get caught at the back of my throat. I forced my eyelids apart, looking over at Sam with blurry, distorted vision.

I didn't want Archie to die.

He didn't deserve to die. Archie was the big brother, he was the big brother who had dragged me out of the hellhole I'd dug myself in and set me back on my feet. Archie was the one who was supposed to support and protect—but I, as always was unable to return the favor. Archie had stood by me all through rehab and held my hand as I cried over everything I'd lost.

Archie didn't deserve to die.

"It's okay to cry, Beth," Sam spoke with a voice which was so choked that I wasn't sure whether he was speaking to himself or to the tear-stricken girl opposite him.

I'd been desperately trying to rub out the tears that threatened to appear, something he noticed as I inhaled deeply and angrily.

"I'm not going to cry-" I insisted strongly, but my whole demeanour was jilted by the dip in my tone. "I'm fine—I'm fine—Archie is going to be fine—we're all fine—I'm fine—You're fine—Addie's fine—"

I didn't want to cry.

I'd had my allotted quarter-of-an-hour cry; the tears had been dried by a coffee-stained serviette almost before they'd even been shed. I'd wooed myself with a little bit of Bach, attempted to screw my head on straight and then bought five cups of different flavoured jello from the sour-faced cafeteria worker.

I didn't want to cry. But my body needed to.

"Beth—shh."

"We're all fine," I said quickly, almost loosing my breath as I wrapped my arms around myself. There was a screech of metal against the floor as Sam drew out his chair, walking towards me in two fluid steps. I felt his hand on my arm as I let out a vaguely choked sound. "Mark's fucking great—I'm great too—that's all that matters Sam—that's all that matters-"

"Shh."

Sam hoisted me out of my chair, replacing my own grip with his own arms. The warmth radiating out of the hold reminded me of how Archie used to comfort me when I'd do something stupid and get myself hurt.

It was a purely familial comfort and it reacted oddly to my brain. It'd been so long. So long to be without something so emotional. My brain was floored. I was both repulsed with my own emotional weakness and grateful for something I'd been deprived of for so long.

"We're fine, Sam," I said, but we both knew that I was convincing myself more than him. "We're all going to be fine."