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Chapter Text

8. The Sniffles. 

George o’Malley. 

“Who is making that god awful noise?” Dr Bailey’s voice punctuated Meredith’s morning gathering of interns by the nurse’s station, and they all turned around, making a small path to reveal George at the back; gripping his patient files and sniffling like his life currently depended on it. 

“O’Malley?” An eyebrow quirked upward, and her hand went to her hip. 

“Y—yes, Dr Bailey?” He already knew he was in trouble. 

“Blow your nose.”

“I already did. Five times. I swear, it’s like—“

“Well, make it a sixth!”

Meredith held in a chuckle, watching her friend hurry off, before continuing her talk with the interns. It was going to be a long morning — half the staff around the hospital were out sick, and everyone else seemed to be dropping like flies. They were calling it ‘the intern plague,’ because it seemed to be knocking them down the most and the fastest. 

He really didn’t feel that bad before leaving that morning, aside from the nasal discomfort and a mildly sore throat. Apparently, that wasn’t the worst of it, because by lunchtime nobody would sit with him and he apparently looked ‘like Rudolph, instead of Bambi.’ Thanks, Alex. 

Lexie was carrying her tray when she spotted him at the empty table, glancing to where her sister sat, and then back over again. “Why’s no one sitting with George?” She frowned, moving closer to the table of residents beside her. 

“Bambi’s got the sniffles,” Alex piped up, earning a frown of disapproval from Meredith sat beside him. 

“It’s not the sniffles, it’s the intern plague. Get it right.” Cristina added, before biting a carrot stick in half. 

“Right…” the younger Grey muttered, deciding to risk it and not leave her friend completely alone and suffering. 

She set her tray down and sat on the seat diagonal to the fellow intern, giving his arm a poke when he didn’t react. “Everyone’s acting so dramatic over this,” she huffed. “And the intern plague?! That’s just mean! As if we don’t look weak enough already.” An angry bite of salad was taken, before she continued on. 

“And, it started with the attendings anyway!” Staring at him. “George? Are you going to acknowledge my existence, or are you really that sick?” Her brow furrowed, a little more concerned now. 

“I need to study,” he mumbled into a groan, sounding obviously congested. 

“For the intern exam? That’s probably why you’re sick. You’re stressed. Take a break. You haven’t touched any of your food, either.” She took another mouthful of hers, before stabbing a piece of potato with his fork. 

Holding it out to him, “c’mon, eat!”

Instead, o’Malley turned away into his elbow and sneezed. “God, I’mb going to die. I’mb going to die and I’ll ndever even be a damb resident.” He sniffled, sitting up straight again and coughed into his hand. 

“Bless you, and you’re not going to die.” Lexie gave him a little pat on the back, giving up on offering him food for now. 

“And, my scrubs ndeed changing again.” George spoke, his sentence punctuated with coughs after almost every word. 

“I don’t think anyone’s going to let you scrub in today… so no need to worry about them being completely sterile.”

George pulled a face. 

“No offence.” She returned, sympathy clear upon her own expression. 

He sighed, reaching for his water bottle, before the pager resting on the table started to beep. He was up and halfway across the cafeteria before Lexie could even try to offer her help, instead, all she could do was call after him, “take it easy!” But, it was doubtful he even heard; his ears were probably as stuffed up as his nose was, what with the constant sniffling and all. 

It was later at the nurse’s station that little Grey bumped back into George again, whilst he was carrying a stack of charts in his arms, trying to cough into his shoulder as he did so. She stopped in front of him, forcing him to stop too. 

“Hey! Lexie!” An attempt to dodge her was made, but she was standing her ground… albeit reaching out to take some of the charts and set them down for him. 

“You should go home,” she started, looking him over; his cheeks were flushed, and his nose was pink. The hair covering his forehead looked damp with sweat, and had started to curl. He didn’t look well. 

“We’re short staffed, and Meredith really needs me to work on these. Really short staffed.” He gestures toward the larger than usual pile he needed to complete, before ducking into a sneeze, catching it in his hands and fumbling for the sanitizer beside them. 

She blessed him again, pushing the bottle of sanitizer closer, before her arms folded across  her chest. A disapproving look wouldn’t send George o’Malley running for the hills, but it was all she could think of right now. Not that she was an ounce bit intimidating, because he was giggling at her now. 

“Oh, stop.” Sniffle. “Bailey said anyone who doesn’t have a fever and can still perform our usual tasks can stay. So, I’m staying.” His hands reached for the charts again, but Lexi reached out to stop him. 

“Have you checked your temperature today?” 

“… uh, yeah, I —“

“George!”

“I checked it this morning, before I left! It was 100.4, and Bailey said 101.3 and over gets sent home. So I am staying here. Just me and my charts.”  

“And since then?” Her hand went to her hip, trying her very best to do a Dr Bailey stance. George laughed again. 

“… I checked with my hand. Oh, look! It’s fine. Gotta go!” He made a successful grab for the charts this time, and Lexie huffed dramatically; blowing hair out of her eyes. 

“I’m going to find a thermometer and I will find you!” She called out as he walked quickly away from her. “You can run, but you can’t hide, o’Malley!”

As it turned out, she was wrong. Lexie Grey was miserably wrong, in fact. Because she had been searching for George for almost an hour since she fetched a thermometer, in between pages to see patients. She really didn’t want to bother a resident with this, or an attending, especially when they were so short on doctors. But, she was getting desperate. He wasn’t in any of the on call rooms, the cafeteria, or any of the supply closets either. A small part of her considered the fact that maybe he saw sense and went home… but, she quickly talked herself out of that one. 

With a sigh of defeat, Lexie reached into her pocket for her pager, and called on Meredith. She was George’s friend too, and her half sister, so surely she wouldn’t mind too much. As far as she was aware, there weren’t any surgeries her half sister would need to be scrubbed in for just yet. 

A sigh of relief left her lips this time, as she spotted Meredith coming around the corner, and stopping beside her at the nurse’s station. 

“You paged?” Meredith hummed, dropping some paperwork onto the surface with a small huff of effort. 

“I can’t find George.” Lexie whined slightly, holding up the thermometer in her hand. “I think he’s sick — sicker than he’s letting on, and I literally cannot find him.” 

“Have you paged him?”

“Of course I’ve — he knows I’m trying to examine him. In hindsight, it was a bad idea to threaten that fact verbally.” She grumbled, “you have to help me. I’ll owe you one. I’ll owe you metaphorical tens of thousands of —“

“Okay, okay! I’ll page him. He’s my intern, so if he ignores me, I’ll personally be very offended. Although, he does know you’re my sister.”

“True.”

“But, he’s also my friend.”

“And mine!”

“I’m the friend without the thermometer vendetta.” Meredith pointed out, pulling her pager from her pocket and using it, “now.. we wait.”

They heard George before they saw him, a high pitched sneeze, a crash… a few ‘bless you’s’ and a lot of apologies. Lexie ducked down behind the nurse’s station before he could spot her, and waited until he came up to talk to Mer, before popping up again with the thermometer at the ready. 

“Lexie! Mer, I trusted you! Betrayal! Betrayal of the highest kind!” He waved an accusing finger at the younger Grey, trying his best to squirm away as she placed the thermometer in his ear. 

“George, stop being dramatic. If you don’t have a fever, then we’ll let you on your way.” Meredith said simply, tapping her foot as they all waited for the reading. George coughed throughout the entire ordeal… shouting wasn’t the smartest idea he’d had today. He was still wearing a face mask — another rule to try and contain the intern plague — but he continued to cough into his elbow all the same. 

Lexie removed the thermometer once it beeped, glancing at the screen, then showing it to Meredith. “Sit.” She demanded to him, gesturing to the chair behind the nurse’s station. “You shouldn’t be standing up, let alone working. Put the charts down, George!” 

He begrudgingly did as his resident, and friend, told him to. “What did it say?” Tugging off his mask and disposing of it, pulling another from his pocket in preparation for going back to work. 

“102.74.” Lexi stated. 

“Oh, well it’s broken then!” He pulled a face, making a grabbing hand at the medical instrument. 

She looked over at Meredith for approval, who shook her head with a sigh. “Just… humor him.”

O’Malley stuck the thermometer in his other ear, waiting for the beep. It was slightly higher, and 102.94. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Little Grey muttered, waiting for her fellow intern to finally give it. 

“What if it’s still—“

Snatching it out of his hand, she replaced the little plastic cap and took her own temperature, showing George the screen before he could come up with any other strange theories. ‘97.7’

“It’s rigged.” He whispered, fever bright eyes staring up at her.  

“Meredith, I think we should admit him.”

“To psych?” She was only half joking. 

“No! No— listen, listen to his breathing. And, the fever. That’s high, right? He’s had no meds, because he’s working. What if it gets worse?” Lexie was transforming from annoyed caretaker and doctor, to panicked friend pretty quickly. 

“Lexie, breathe.” Meredith turned from her sister, and back to George again. “You are wheezing, George. I’m going to listen to your chest, okay?”

“He had childhood asthma—“ Lexi blurted out, earning a very disapproving look from George. 

A pause. Meredith raised her eyebrows, continuing with her task in silence for a moment. Why was everything always so… this way? Well, she chose her friends, and she’ll always stick by them. No matter how idiotic they can be. But, they really were being idiotic lately. 

She turned away to do something at the nurse’s station behind them, and Lexie shot a sympathetic mixed guilty look towards George. 

“I saw it when I read your file, I’m sorry. Couldn’t forget it. Photographic memory.” 

“Betrayal.” George whispered, narrowing his eyes. 

When Meredith came back over, she handed him a small plastic cup of water, “I’m getting you some fever reducers, and a prescription for Albuterol. You’re going to go to an on call room and sleep after that, and then if you don’t get any worse, you can go home.”

He opened his mouth to object, and Mer quickly stopped him. 

“Let me rephrase that. You will go home.”

“What if I get worse?” A question he dared to ask. 

“Then you’re being admitted and becoming Lexie’s problem instead.”

“Admitted for a cold?!” George complained, inhaling a wheezy breath. Maybe she was right. 

“Admitted for an asthma flare up, and a high fever. Most likely some dehydration, too, so drink up.”

Just as if on cue, her pager went off. “Looks like you’re Lexie’s problem sooner than I thought!” She smiled, but then her expression softened to something a lot less teasing. “Just, rest, George. Nobody is going to be mad that you had to stop.”

After that, she turned and made her way to where she’d been paged to the ER. 

“Are you mad at me?” Her voice was small at first, all previous pent up frustration at him having dissipated. 

George shook his head, closing his eyes and succumbing to yet another coughing fit. He checked his pockets, only to realise he was now out of tissues… and, apparently that was the breaking point. Lexie seemed to somehow get the message, whilst he coughed and vaguely pointed to the box of tissues ahead of them, before resting his head in his hands in defeat. A very tiny whimper followed, and Lexie felt even worse for him now.

She handed him the box, and they sat together without talking for a minute or two. Lexie gently patted his back, and offered him more water once he was done. 

“You feel lousy, don’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question. She could tell that now he’d finally stopped, everything was catching up to him all at once. “Here; you can lean on me.”

“Not scared of the intern plague?” George’s voice was shot now, despite trying to clear his throat multiple times beforehand. 

Lexie scrunched up her nose, “pshh, no. I’ve got a great immune system.” She smiled, wrapping an arm around him when he finally gave in and leaned his head on her shoulder. 

“I’m not mad at you,” George reiterated, “you’ve just been doing your job, really.”

“As a doctor and as a friend.” Lexie added, resting her head atop of his. 

A pause, before she suddenly sat back up, almost sending George toppling over. Back to worried friend mode, now. 

“Hey!”

“You’re, like, really burning up and I can’t just sit here — sorry — I’m… I’m going to get some wet paper towels. I’ll be right back!”

After collecting a handful, Little Grey (tried to) carefully make her way back to the nurse’s station. He’d be fine, right? She didn’t need to page anyone? He’s resting, so that’s something. Right??

“Dr Grey, is there a reason you’re dripping water all over the hospital floor?” Dr Bailey’s voice rang out behind her, and the younger woman almost jumped out of her skin. 

“Dr Bailey! No, I — sorry, I —“

“Dr Grey — Dr Meredith Grey — paged me for an inhaler. The clinic is backed up with coughs, colds and all the rest, I really don’t have time to dawdle today.”

“It’s for George,” Lexi exhaled heavily, “they’re both for George.” She then gestured to the damp towels in her hands. 

The pair of doctors made their way over to the doctor-turned-patient in question, where he was sat with his eyes closed mumbling to himself. The fever seemed to be taking its toll, now. 

His eyes opened at the sound of footsteps, and a smile grew on his face, “Dr Bailey!” His voice cracked. “Wait… Dr Bailey.” George’s eyes narrowed, his tone changing to a questioning  ‘am I in trouble?’ kind of way. 

“George o’Malley, you are a fool.” She tsked, pocketing the medicine she’d been carrying and holding out her hand. 

“Stand. If you cannot stand, I’m getting you a wheelchair. Now stand.” She helped the stubborn intern up to his feet after the threat of a wheelchair was made, and Lexie stood on his other side to support him some more if needed. The pair lead him to an empty room, and guided him onto the bed. 

George’s head hit the pillow with relief, but with a sudden realisation he sat straight back up again… promptly making himself dizzy, and having to be stabalised again by his friend. 

“You’re not admitting me, are you? ‘Cause — ‘cause Meredith said —“

“Do I look like Meredith Grey to you?”

“That’s not —“

“Do I?”

“Well, no, but —“

“Then, hush,” Dr Bailey tsked again, “I’m not admitting you, no. But, I’m working the clinic today and Dr Grey paged me to bring an inhaler to a patient, and so this is my way of bringing the clinic to you.” She pulled the aforementioned medicine from her pocket, took it from its box and shook it up; removing the cap and holding it out towards him. 

Apparently, she wasn’t going to let him do it himself, and George decided it was better to comply than to frustrate her any further. 

“Breathe slow, so you don’t cough. Now, hold… okay, slowly. One more time. Good.” She removed the inhaler from his mouth, and capped it, placing it down on the table by the bed. “Feel better?”

He thought about it for a few seconds, testing out his breathing a little, “yeah, actually.”

“The wonders of modern medicine, huh?” Her tone was sarcastic, but there was a smile on her face. 

“Now…” Bailey picked up the little pot of pills and some water, “take the Tylenol  that nurse Taylor has so kindly brought to you—“ George took the meds, grimacing at the pain in his throat as they went down. “— and breathe normally—“ an oxygen mask was placed over his mouth and nose. “And, drink water as much as you can from now until I get back. Dr Grey here will fetch you an electrolyte drink from the vending machine, and if that doesn’t work, she will cannulate you. And you will let her. Understood?”

George blinked slowly, and raised his hands to give a slightly weary double thumbs up. 

“Good.” She smiled properly this time; clearly satisfied, and Lexie seemed to release a breath of relief beside her. 

“Okay. I have a clinic to run— a very busy clinic. Dr Gtey, take care of him! He’s one of the good ones!” She called out as she left. 

And with that, Dr Bailey was gone from the room. Leaving the pair of interns behind, with the sound of George’s congested breaths and the faint beep of machines from the rooms beside them. 

Lexie giggled slightly, reaching out to ruffle her friend’s hair; much to his dismay. 

“So, not just the sniffles after all, huh?”

End. 

Chapter Text

Alternative prompt 4. Flushed Cheeks. 

Neal Caffrey. 

“Neal, I really don’t think you should go with Peter today. I can work from home — you know you’re welcome here.” Elizabeth’s voice sounded muffled from where Neal had situated himself on the Burke’s couch, whilst waiting for his Handler to drive them both to an interview with some potential suspects. 

His ears felt stuffy, his throat had been hurting for over twenty four hours and his nose had started to itch, too. Not only that, but Elizabeth had noticed his flushed cheeks when he knocked at the door seven minutes ago. She’d been trying to convince him to stay and rest since then. 

“I told you, it’s just the change in Fall air,” Neal mumbled again; the story losing its integrity the more tired he felt while sitting down. She had given him a blanket a few seconds ago, and he was trying with all his might not to give in and curl up like he really wanted to.  

The sound of footsteps on stairs distracted them both, and Peter wandered into the room with a wide smile… that quickly faded upon seeing his CI slumped on the couch before him. 

“What happened to you?” His eyebrows raised, whilst he fixed his tie. 

“Good morning, Neal. How are you? Oh, I’m great, Peter. I’m just tired because it’s been a busy week, and I appreciate Elizabeth’s concern, I really do, but I’m ready to work.” His voice turned a little raspy by the end of his (rather sarcastic) response, and he had no choice but to sniffle as his nose started to run slightly. 

Peter folded his arms, “you don’t look fine.”

“It’s just the—“

“Fall air?” Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow, also giving him a stern look. 

“Exactly.” Neal replied, although made no effort to move. His head felt fuzzy now, and he shivered slightly. 

El turned to her husband, with an exasperated expression. “I’ll stay home today, and Neal can stay with me. Can you get somebody else to help you with the suspects today?” She asked, ignoring Neal’s attempts to argue from behind her. 

He nodded, giving his wife a kiss. 

“Neal, I’m not taking  you with me. Not like that… you’ll get us all sick, and then nobody will solve the case.” He sighed. “I’ll call Diana, and she can meet me there.”

“But, Diana doesn’t know about the case like I do! I know what these people are thinking, I—“

“You are staying here, and Diana may not be an ex-con, but she’s worked enough forgery cases with me to know her left from right. If we need you, we’ll call.”

“But—“

“No.”

“But, I—“

“No.”

He leaned back against the couch in defeat, sniffling quietly. “Fine, whatever. You’d get the guy much quicker if I was there, but sure. It’s fine.”

“There’s no need to act like that,” Peter admonished, turning away to make the phone call. 

When Elizabeth turned back to Neal, she immediately crossed the room to sit by his side and rest a palm gently upon his back; he was tearing up, and despite knowing he probably wanted the ground to swallow him up right now, she couldn’t not comfort him. 

“Neal, sweetie,” her voice was soft, “you feel really warm, and I know you’re frustrated right now, but staying here is good for you. C’mon. Let’s go upstairs.” She stood, gently offering him her hand. 

He didn’t want to take it, and he didn’t want her to see him like this… but, he also didn’t want Peter to see. This was the Neal Caffrey he never showed the world, and being perceived this way was horrible. After taking her  hand (which she noticed the heat from, too), El lead him upstairs into the guest bedroom, and fetched him some of Peter’s pyjamas. 

Somehow, from getting changed in the bathroom to getting back into the guest room, Neal ended up tucked up in the guest bed and with a thermometer under his tongue. Everything was fuzzy after that, and he vaguely recalled Peter’s voice, but when he next came to it was quiet. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” El’s voice was still soft, as she peered into the room. 

Neal blinked, rubbing his eyes. He felt somewhat alright, and he sort of remembered taking some DayQuil before passing out asleep. The curtains were drawn and there was a glass of water by his bed, as well as some tissues. 

“How long was I out for?” Neal asked, his voice scratchy from lack of use. 

“About… four hours,” El answered, after checking her watch, “how’d you feel now?”

“Tired. My throat kinda hurts, but I think I’m fine.”

She gave him a look. 

“Fine as fine goes?” He tried, and she smiled whilst walking towards him. El sat down on the bed, feeling his forehead and giving a satisfied little nod at how much less heat was now radiating from under his curls. 

“Good. You want something to eat? I’ve made soup, and I could make you grilled cheese, if you’re up for it.”

Neal smiled now, sitting up, “that sounds great, actually.” He cleared his throat, reaching for the glass, but she was already handing it to him. 

“Oh, and by the way, Peter apologised for being blunt earlier. He’s worried about you, whether he admits it or not.” She chuckled slightly, once again offering him a hand to help him stand. 

“Ah, it’s okay, I guess I was being a little…”

“Stubborn?”

“Stubborn is a strong word.”

Elizabeth laughed. 

“That’s exactly why I used it.”

Neal flashed another smile, shrugging, before they both left the room. 

End. 

Chapter Text

15. “Who Decided ___ is Sick People Food?”

Derek Shepherd. 

As if George’s stubbornness the day before this one wasn’t enough, now Meredith was dealing with two sick people under the same household. And, this time it’s her boyfriend. She had barley had any time to see if he was alright, aside from making him some tea in the morning whilst he insisted he’d be fine to work. 

The day was annoyingly busy — flu season was really living up to its name — and, she was on Owen’s service which meant she’d also been up to her ears in ER patients. Falls, bumps, bruises… a few broken bones, and an emergency surgery for a stab wound in the abdomen. She’d barely had time to grab a bite (literally one bite) to eat for lunch, but finally, she was searching for her boyfriend. 

A nurse pointed her in the direction of his office, and she walked in without knocking. He was making notes, and she could tell she’d startled him as he dropped the pen on the desk. 

“Whatever happened to knocking?” His voice was a lot more congested than when she’d kissed him (on the cheek) goodbye that morning. 

Meredith smiled, shutting the door behind her. “I’m your girlfriend, and…” she closed the gap between them, walking over and resting a hand gently against his forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Impressive.” Considering how George was burning up the afternoon he’d first gotten sick. 

“I know, I stole a thermometer from the nurse's station just to prove to you I can be here.”

“Well, you can’t if you’re coughing and sneezing. You can’t sneeze on a brain, Derek. That would be bad — oh, have you heard the nurses swooning over how you sneeze like a kitten? Because I have. All day. They really don’t have anything better to talk about, apparently.”

Despite his smile, he ran a hand down his face as Mer perched on her desk beside him. 

“I am unfortunately aware of the fact, yes.”

“Would it make you feel better if I said I think it sounds more like a little laser gun?” She giggled, dodging his attempt to tickle her in retaliation. 

“Honestly?”

Meredith nodded, a grin that only spelled mischief still worn across her face. 

“No, Mer.” He rolled his eyes, covering a cough into his elbow. 

His girlfriend’s smile was soon disappearing from her face, and being replaced with a concerned frown again. “You’re sure you’re okay to keep doing consults, because I can—“

“Meredith, I am okay.” Derek cut her off before she could argue, and he reached out his foot to tap hers. “It’s just a cold.”

“That’s what George said!”

“That was different,” Derek  pointed out, stretching his arms above his head., “I’m too pretty to get sick.”

“You’re not making any sense, and you can’t woo me with that… stupidly cute smile of yours. Stop it.” She huffed, walking over to him to feel his forehead. He felt fine. 

Her arms now folded, and she sighed. “Okay, fine. But, you’re meeting me at the exit as soon as that clock strikes five o’clock, okay?” Meredith reasoned, tapping her foot against the flooring. 

“Well, I’ll try, but I make no promises if I have a patient.”

“No ifs or buts, Derek. Find someone else to help if you get caught up, okay?”

“But—“

“I said no buts!”

“Not even your butt? ‘Cause I really like your butt.” He grinned, and Meredith reached to (gently) swat at his shoulder. Her pager began to vibrate inside her pocket after that, drawing her attention away from his stupidly annoying and pretty face.  

Sigh. “I have to go. I love you, and you’re an idiot.” Meredith headed towards the door.  

“Don’t do anything stupid!” She called, before making her way back to the elevator. 

•••

When the time came for them to leave the hospital, Meredith was the one who was slightly late — only by fifteen minutes, because she’d gotten caught up in the OR, and she was pleasantly surprised to see her boyfriend sitting in the waiting room by the entrance. 

“You’re here!” Meredith beamed, standing before him. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” Derek smiled back, sniffling slightly as he stood up. “My patients were very nice today, and there were no problems.”

“Did you sneeze on a brain?” Meredith teased, holding out her hand for him to hold. 

“I did not.”

“Well, good!”

As soon as they got home, Meredith made him change into something comfortable, and by the time she had showered he was curled up on the couch under a blanket. 

“Dude, has anyone seen O’Malley? He left his inhaler in the damn refrigerator. If he dies, it’s not on me.”

She turned at Alex’s  voice, standing in the entryway still. “In his room?” Mer suggested, shrugging slightly. 

As if on cue, the sound of the shower turning on in the bathroom followed by a drawn out coughing fit could be heard. Lexie’s voice could be heard after that, and running foot steps coming down the stairs. 

“You better not be naked in there, or you’re paying for my therapy, O’Malley!” Alex banged on the door twice with his fist, before walking in. 

Lexie skidded to a halt in front of Meredith, out of breath.  

“He lost his—“

“Inhaler? Alex found it in the refrigerator,” she chuckled softly, “don’t panic, Lex. You’re still not sick yet?” Meredith was impressed, truth be told; her younger sister had almost the entire day with George yesterday, and despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been keeping his germs to himself that well at certain points. 

“No! I have a great immune system.” She grinned, and the pair both turned to Derek in the living room, who had started sneezing. Again. 

“Bless you!” Their voices were in sync, before Lexie turned back to Meredith. 

“He really does sneeze like a kitten. That’s fun.” She giggled, before scrunching her nose. “Shall I make soup?”

“What kinda soup?” Alex was leaving the bathroom now, with a disheveled looking George shuffling along behind him. 

“George, you look…”

“Like death warmed over? So I’ve been told. Multiple times, actually.” He also sounded awful; the shower steam clearly hadn’t helped all that much with the congestion. 

“He has a fever again. Little Grey, he’s your problem now. I am going to quarantine in my bedroom!” Alex was quick to make his way there, before anyone could tell him otherwise. 

Lexie reached to feel George’s forehead, although his flushed cheeks kind of gave it away anyway. 

“You are sitting down right now,” she hummed, immediately taking his arm and leading him to the couch next to Derek. “Okay. I’ll make soup, aaaand, I can get cold and flu meds. But, you can’t have any until seven pm. Do you want some?” Lexie pointed at Derek now. 

“No, thank you. Soup and some sleep will cure me just fine.” He smiled up at her, and she chose to not give him a lecture on stubbornness just yet. 

Meredith sat in between them both, glancing at them. 

“So, I helped fix a guy that got a pizza cutter wedged in his forehead today.”

“And he lived?” George sniffled, grabbing a cushion and hugging it close to him. 

“Well, yeah. I’m that good!”

“I wish I helped fix a guy with a pizza cutter in his—“ two sneezes interrupted him, followed by another bout of coughs. 

Another in sync ‘bless you,’ this time from Derek and Meredith. 

“You’ll get something good when you go back,” she reassured him, giving his head a little pat. 

George frowned at that, but Meredith was distracted as the body beside him slumped against her. A groan fell from Derek’s  lips, and he ran a hand down his face. 

“Weren’t you fine a second ago?”

“I was fine once,” George added, “then Doctor Bailey put a spell on me and gave me asthma.”

“George,” Meredith chided, “you weren’t fine from lunchtime onwards. You’re both being dramatic.” She pushed herself to stand, turning to look at them both with her hands settled firmly upon her hips. 

A smile was quickly creeping up onto Shepherd’s face, and he chuckled to himself slightly. 

“I always had a thing for teachers and authority figures,” he hummed cheerfully, and Mer only rolled her eyes. 

“Shut up, that’s not the focus right now. George — you need to rest and accept that you should’ve definitely done it sooner. Derek… you need to get your mind out of the gutter and also rest. And stop giving me bedroom eyes!”

“These… these are living room eyes.”

“George is in the living room. George is in the living room and he doesn’t want to experience any—“

“Nobody is experiencing anything. Now stay put. I’m going to make you a snack.” An unsettling sort of look settled on her face, and they weren’t quite sure if it was a happy look or not. Maybe too happy?

Of course, her boyfriend did not in fact stay put and followed her straight into the kitchen when she had walked away. George took the chance to lie down, burying himself under more blankets and ensuring to prop himself up on various pillows.  

“What’re you doing?” His voice sounded from behind her, and Meredith rolled her eyes. 

Lexie continued to stir the soup, deciding that she pretended not to hear or see anything going on behind her. 

“What’s the snack?”

“Sit down, and you’ll see.”

Surprisingly, he did as he was told, taking a seat at the breakfast bar nearby. Tapping his fingers. Fidgeting with an empty wrapper, that had some sweet peppers in; for the soup. 

“What are you making?” Lexie asked, noticing Meredith collecting a variety of foods… peanut butter, cheese, sprinkles and chocolate spread. 

“A sandwich!”

She reached out to feel Meredith’s forehead at that, which somehow felt fine. Who in their right mind would put those things in one sandwich, together?

“Oh, I’m not sick.” Meredith reassured, bringing the things over to where Derek was sitting, before getting some bread. 

Derek blinked. 

“Is this a plot to poison me?”

“No!” She laughed. “It’s my speciality.”

“Who puts those kinds of things in a sandwich?” Derek added, coughing a few times into his fist. “And who decided that this is sick people food? Soup. Soup is sick people food.”

“Well,” Meredith hummed, beginning to spread the peanut butter onto the pre-cut bread slices, “tell that to the seven year old girl, who’s home alone and can only reach certain ingredients.” She continued, not looking up. 

“Oh.” Derek’s face fell a little. 

“Meredith!” Lexie chimed in, but Meredith seemed to only find it funny. 

“it’s fine! It’s good sick people food!”

She finished making the sandwich, cutting it in half, and looking at it like it was a piece of art she had just created and was now presenting to the sick man in front of her. He looked… skeptical, to say the least. 

“C’mon! Eat your neglect sandwich, Derek!”

“Oh, you cannot call it that. That is wrong.” Derek shook his head, but he couldn’t help his laughter. She was… one of a kind, that was for sure. 

“Bite it then!” Meredith picked up one half of the sandwich, and bit into it. She didn’t seem to be faking the pleased expression, so Derek hesitantly picked up the other half and took a little bite. 

There was a pause whilst he chewed, and then he shot her a slightly impressed glance. 

“See! It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Honestly… it’s not bad.” He took another bite, and then another. 

Lexie pulled a face, before grabbing the half that Meredith had bitten into, and trying a bit herself. 

“Baby Mer was a culinary wizard,” she exclaimed, before turning back to her soup again on the stove. 

She served the soup into four bowls, placing one in front of Derek and carrying another out to George. Each of them ended up on the couch a little while later, eating soup and watching stupid romance movies that only Lexie really liked; and watched whenever she didn’t feel good. George napped against her shoulder, and Meredith played with Derek’s hair until he, too, fell asleep. 

End. 

Chapter Text

22. You Didn’t Use my Cup Did You?

Lexie Grey. 

Three days had passed, and Lexie was the only person in the kitchen before their shift. She’d gotten up earlier than needed… not being able to sleep, a headache, the sound of rain outside. Or, maybe she was just excited to work. 

George was allowed back to work today, and Derek had gone back to work yesterday, much to Meredith’s dismay as his fever had only broken the night before. Despite that, he was pretty much fine after his shift ended, and Lexie had cooked everyone dinner. Alex, however, was still quarantining in his room. He had a big surgery assist coming up, and he (quote) would “chop anyone who gets me sick up with a scalpel.” (unquote.)

It was cold outside when they walked to Mer’s car, Lexie sitting in the middle back seat; Cristina in the front. She must’ve stayed over last night. Alex wore a surgical mask, and Cristina insisted they keep the windows open to air out the germs… which triggered George’s cough almost the entire ride, which naturally also triggered multiple bickering sessions from various members of the group in the car. Safe to say, she was glad to get out and into the hospital after what felt like forever. 

“George, are you sure you should be back now?” She asked, brushing through her hair and opening a protein bar in the interns room. 

“Dr. Bailey said I can come back once there's been no fever for fourty eight hours. I’m not sick anymore, Lexie. It’s a post viral cough. I’m even being forced to stop by the clinic before rounds to be examined by Alex. So, honestly, I’d rather be at home and in bed.” He shut his locker with a sigh, trudging towards the door before she could even think of an answer. 

Lexie sighed softly, tying her hair into a ponytail and taking a small bite of the bar in her hand. It hurt to swallow, but she just assumed it had scratched her throat on its way down. 

Two hours later, though, and it was starting to hurt a little to talk. She was on her third juice box of apple juice when Alex appeared beside her at the nurse’s station, setting down his coffee and looking through some papers. He looked so deep in thought, that he barely even registered Lexie trying to ask him a question. 

“Dr Karev!” Lexie raised her voice a little higher, finally grabbing his attention.

He turned to her, a scowl set in stone on his face. “Look, if you need a favour, I’m way too stretched thin to come and fit an IV because you forgot how. Half my interns are down, and I don’t have time to –” he stared at his cup on the nurse’s station, and then back to Lexie again. “Please tell me you did not just use my cup.” He grabbed it, inspecting it as if there’d be some kind of physical evidence to find.

“No! I have my own drink, besides, I’m not even sick.” Lexie frowned at him, picking up the juicebox she’d also left on the nurse’s station.

“I told you, I’m not taking any chances. You’ve been near plague victims one and two all week, it’s a miracle you’re not down already. Besides, you could be a carrier.”

A pause. “Okay, whatever. How’s George?” Lexie asked, quick to get her question in before he took off.

“What?” Alex turned, clearly irritated. It seemed everyone was at the end of their tether lately.

“George! You were in the clinic earlier to examine him, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, he’s fine. Taking longer to heal than others, but I guess that’s just Bambi for you.”

Lexie barely opened her mouth to respond, and Alex was already gone. She sighed, sipping on her apple juice, only to find that it was empty. If looks could kill, Lexie Grey would surely have burst the empty juice carton into flames right now. She was only snapped out of her mini staring contest when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Meredith.

“Yeah, uh.. Yeah! Why?”

“You were having a staring contest with a juicebox.”

“Oh,” Lexie chuckled nervously, reaching to throw the empty carton into the nearby trash can. “Yeah, I’m just tired. I didnt sleep well.”

“You’re not getting sick, are you?” Mer’s eyebrows raised in question, looking at her sister with a deeper concentration than before; as if she was using her powers as a Dcotor to diagnose Lexie with justone glance.

Lexie shook her head a little too hard, “I don’t get sick. I havent been sick since eighth grade, and that was only because the teacher’s pet who sat behind me didn’t know how to cover her stupid mouth.” She muttered, looking up at Meredith and realising she’d been rambling.

“O-kay. Good to know.”

The next time Meredith saw her sister was in the canteen; Lexie brought over her tray, a frown creasing ehr brow as she lookedover to where Alex and Cristina were both sat a few tables away. Mer clocked her look, smiling slightly.

“They both have big surgeries coming up, so honestly, I understand.” She reassured, as her sister sat down opposite her.

Another tray was set upon the table a moment after, and Lexie’s face lit up at the sight of George. “Hey! How’re you feeling?” She asked, idly pushing her food around with the plastic fork.

“Good, yeah, good… Meredith, the hypochondriac in bed 304 keeps trying to kill me.” He turned back to Lexie, huffing slightly. “Aside from that, it’s all great.”

Her eyebrows raised slightly, looking from her sister to her friend.

“Did you breathe too close to him?” Meredith laughed, before taking another bite of her food.

George only rolled his eyes, stabbing the small carton of orange juice with the straw, taking a long sip, before slowly inhaling a shaky breath, “worse,” he groaned. “I coughed.”

“Ooh, rookie mistake, George.” Meredith teased, glancing at Lexie, who seemed a lot more withdrawn than usual.

“Can’t someone else take him? I might be murderd before the end of the day. Room 304 is going to be a crime scene! It’s not funny!” 

“George, I’m sorry, but I have no one else. Everyone who’s able to stand is already dealing with my post ops, and you’re on my pre ops… and I have a surgery soon. Did you call pysch?”

“Should I?”

“Just… keep an eye on him. If he gets more threatening, call security and psych. I’m sure he’s just harmless and doesn’t want to get sick. But, if there’s real cause for concern make sure you call them.”

“I’ll do it,” Lexie suddenly spoke, turning all attention to her, “I’ll take the patient.”

“Are you sure?” George frowned. “Doesn’t Cristina need you?”

“She did say she was glad to have you on her service, because everyone else is quote ‘either incompetent or down with the damn plague’,” Meredith chuckled. “So, that’s actually a great compliment.”

Lexie smiled, nodding. “No, it’s fine. I can take on one more patient. That’s fine — if it saves George from getting anymore damage.”

“Thank you, Lexie. See? She’s on my side!” He grumbled, looking at Mer. 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t!”

•••

It was only two hours later that George stumbled (almost literally) across Lexie, on the stairs. She had a pile of charts balanced on her lap, and was busy filling one in — completely hyper focused. He stepped in front of her, tilting his head slightly as he looked down. 

“Lex?”

She jumped a little, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Why’re you… sitting on the stairs?”

“Oh, uh… the — the waiting room was full, so… I sat here.” She smiled at him, before going back to her charts. 

“No on call rooms were free?”

She shook her head, still writing. Her hand was shaking slightly. 

George frowned, noting the flush on her cheeks and the way she was stumbling over her words. “Uh, Lexie?” He tilted his head slightly, taking in her flushed features again as she looked up. 

“Mhm?”

“Uh…” he reached forwards, feeling her forwards. 

She stared at him, going cross eyed as she tried to look at his hand. 

“I think you have a fever. I mean, I know you have a fever. You’re sick, Lexie.”

“I am?” She scrunched up her nose, a small frown on her face. “No, I’m not. I don’t get sick, remember?”

“C’mon,” George held out his hand, “let’s go find somewhere more comfortable to sit.”

“I need to finish my charting first—“

“We can chart, I’ll help you. Come on, Lex.”

She hesitantly took his hand, following George and keeping ahold of his hand until they stopped outside of an empty conference room. He let go of her hand, letting them both inside and pulling out a chair for her. 

Lexie stared at him, and then the chair, before slowly sitting down and setting her charts down before her. 

“Do you ever just look at the charts and the words go swimming and, and — and… George, I’m tired.” She mumbled, sniffling slightly and pushing some hair from her face. 

“You’re sick,” he corrected. “You have a fever, I should go and find a thermometer.”

“No! I… haven’t been sick in years. You said you were gonna help me chart! You have to help me chart, George. Am… am I sick? Do I really have a fever? I can’t leave Yang’s service, she practically payed me a compliment today! She said she was happy I was on her service! Do you know how big of a deal that is?!” She rambled, pressing her palms against the table and standing up. 

George gently lowered her back down, his own hands on her shoulders. 

“You’re speaking really fast. I’ll stay here, but let me get you something to drink first. I won’t be long, okay?”

George was quick to rush to the vending machine, but his pager started beeping just after he grabbed the electrolyte drink. Not now! It wasn’t an emergency, at least, so he’d make his way back to Lexie first. In his mad rusb to get back, he almost rammed straight into Dr. Shepard. 

“Dr. Shepard!” George exhaled, out of breath and holding in a cough. 

“… Dr. O’Malley, is everything alright?” The man’s brow furrowed slightly, taking in the frantic theme to George’s behaviour. To be honest, he seemed to always be a little frantic, now that he thought about it. 

“Could you —“ wheeze “— bring this to Lexie? She’s in the conference room.” He held up the electrolyte drink, without any other context, before hurrying in the other direction. 

Derek shook his head slightly, making his way to the room George had mentioned and knocking gently on the door before he entered. “Lexie?” His voice was quiet, peering into the room. 

She was still sat where George had left her, tapping her feet and trying her best to finish the charts. But, the words were spinning and her head was starting to hurt anytime she tried to read a single word. This wasn’t going too well, at all. 

“Dr. Shepard?” Lexie squeaked, looking up at him with fever bright eyes. 

“George asked me to give you this. Y’know, why don’t I take you home? I have some free time, today.” He spoke gently, walking over, and brushing his fingers against her forehead; she was too warm. 

“I have to do charts,” Lexie insisted, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. 

“I’m sure somebody else can take them for you. I can ask George?”

Apparently, that was the final thing to tip her feverish emotions over the edge, and Lexie Grey burst into tears. Now, Derek wasn’t sure what to do. He may have been the top Neurosurgeon, but he was used to dealing with the brains themselves, not the tearful emotions of the people that the brains came with. 

“I’m supposed to be helping Dr. Yang, and I can’t give George anymore work!” Tears spilled from her eyes, falling down her flushed cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” He stepped closer, rubbing her arm. “You need some medicine, and probably a twenty four hour nap. I promise it’ll be okay, come on.”

It took a moment, but she eventually got to her feet, and Derek plucked some tissues from his pocket for her to dry her eyes with. He paged Meredith on his way to the parking lot, loaded Lexie into the car, and she was fast asleep before he had even pulled out of the hospital. 

•

Later, when everyone got home, it was Alex’s voice that interrupted Lexie’s cosy slumber on the couch. She was curled up like a burrito, where she had been for the past few hours since she got home; Derek had made sure she had everything she needed before he left, and she had wallowed in her misery anytime she wasn’t asleep. She just didn’t get sick. 

“I knew it!” Karev pointed an accusatory finger at her through the doorway, while Cristina didn’t waste anytime in walking up to her room. 

“I didn’t feel that bad before,” Lexie replied, her voice shot. “Besides, it’s only a matter of time before it comes for you.”

“I’ve been avoiding Bambi, McSneezy, and I will continue to avoid you,” he retorted. “I have no plans to become a plague victim, thank you very much!”

“Alex, go easy on her.” Meredith patted his back, walking through the door behind him. “She could very easily cough on you, but she’s being civil.”

She walked into the living room, the only person dating get close. “Can I get you anything, Lex?” Her voice was gentle, and even that wanted to make her cry again. Fevers didn’t mix very well with Lexie’s emotions. 

“Juice box?”

“One juice box coming right up.”

“Where’s George?” Lexie asked, rubbing her eyes. How was she still tired?

“He volunteered to stay a little later to help out. Cristina said she would settle for him to deal with what’s left to do, but don’t worry, she’s not completely mad at you.” 

She huffed dramatically, blowing some hair from her eyes. She hated feeling useless, but she knew George was trying to make up for what he had missed, and that he’d be okay. He was a good person. 

And, she had learned her lesson. The intern plague wasn’t to be messed with.