Shrrpteeth

THE ANGST HURTS SO GOOD

meddison 🖤 (make me cry)

“You’re leaving.”

“Meredith—” she sighs. “Not here, please.”

“Fine,” she says, clipped.

Meredith drags her into a supply closet. “You were just going to leave without telling me! That’s not— It’s not fair, Addison.”

“I know.”

Meredith is quiet, leans a hand against the racks, bracing herself. “What does L.A. have that I don’t?” 

Addison throws her hands up in defeat. “It’s not that simple—”

“Then tell me.”

“You kissed me, Meredith!” she says, harsh. Voice fraying. 

Meredith remembers two weeks ago, unsteady and unsure. Dragging Addison into an on-call room. She hadn’t planned on it. Reaching up and pulling Addison’s lips to her own. Soft and full. 

“You kissed me back—” Meredith hurls at her. Then softer, “I wouldn’t’ve done it if I’d known.”

“Meredith,” Addison shakes her head, runs her fingers through her hair. “I’m not leaving because of you.”

Meredith feels disappointment, sharp and acute, blooming in her sternum. An awful, ugly part of her wishes Addison wanted to leave because of her. At least then it would have mattered. 

“Then why, Addison?”

“It’s too much, being here.” Addison pauses, gathers herself. “I walk around and all I see are ghosts. I can’t live like this, Meredith!”

Meredith hates how small her voice sounds, “But what about me?”

Addison’s face hardens. “What about you?” She laughs incredulously. “You’ll go back to your life here, with your boyfriend, and everyone else. This. Us,” she pauses, gesturing to the space between them. “Was just something you used to fill the void when you were alone and suicidal.”

Meredith flinches away. “You don’t get to do that—” she says, angry. “You don’t get to use that as an excuse to question my judgment every time I make a choice you don’t like!” 

“You don’t want me, Meredith—”

Meredith cuts her off, “Is that why you kissed me back? Because you were scared I was going to—”

“Don’t.” Addison deflates, “No, Meredith. You know that’s not why.”

“Say it, Addison.”

“I have nothing more to say. I don’t owe you anything.” Addison turns, reaches for the door. 

Desperate, Meredith grabs her arm. “We were friends, or— Or something before that—”

Addison wrenches her arm away, pivots, hair whipping around as she faces Meredith. “No! No Meredith, we were nothing.” 

Meredith recoils as if she’s been slapped. “I—'' I hate you, it forms heavy on the tip of her tongue but she can't say it. 

Addison seems to realize her mistake. “Meredith, I’m—”

“Save it.”

“Meredith, look at me.” Against her better judgment, Meredith does. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” 

Meredith feels a tear roll down her cheek. Gently, Addison brushes it away with her thumb. Her hand lingers, fingers splaying across Meredith’s cheek. Addison leans forward, tipping Meredith’s chin so she can feel Addison’s breath on her lips. Addison kisses her, tender. Meredith sinks into it. Her lips are warm and soft, and for a second Meredith believes it’s going to be okay.

Then lightly, Meredith pushes at Addison’s shoulder, steps away from her. 

“Goodbye, Addison. I hope— I hope L.A. works out for you.” Meredith leaves Addison in the supply closet, soft eyes and parted lips.

True to her word, Addison is gone the next morning.

read on ao3

It's so interesting to see Nat's approach to going about atoning for her past. She has such a blunt attitude to judging people and a realistic approach to what she can or can't do when it comes to getting rid of the people she deems bad.

She knows she can't fix the world, so she just does her best.

And god I love how she doesn't let herself be cowed by people who come accusing her of being a killer/bringing up how many people she killed.

She very clearly traces a difference from herself and people who kill for other reasons (personal gain, sadism, etc):

And she doesn't hesitate to kill when she realizes who they are, such as when she realizes that the person she was helping was actually a murderer:

In her search for atonement, she could have simply decided that she wouldn't kill again. After having been made to kill while brainwashed/conditioned, that would have been a reasonable and very understandable response. She was made into a weapon, against her choice, but instead of burying that part of herself, she uses it for good.

Obviously, she wouldn't be Natasha if she didn't do that.

Moreover, she's unashamedly ruthless and brutal when things get personal:

It's fearsome, cold and, in a way, tragic. Violence and shadow play is all she knows.

But this is how she deals with the hand she was given. Her past will never stay in the past, but she won't refuse to fight with everything she has for herself, for innocent (or repenting) people, and the people who are close to her.

She might regret the harm she caused, but she doesn't confuse that with what she does now. Neither does she lose herself and become the very thing she fights against, even if it can be a slippery slope.

After everything she's been through (multiple brainwashings, conditioning, the hostile situation of being seen as an enemy by those who should be her allies (multiple times, even)) I think that her unwavering certainty of who she *is* speaks of her incredible mental fortitude.

And it's all because she cares so much, both about those close to her (both now and those who she carries in her memories):

And just... In general:

(me on a first date) and what do you think of the inherent intimacy of surgery? have you considered the love someone must have to put their hands under your skin and hold the most grotesque parts of you and put them back together nicely? is anyone really closer to you than that? we all get uh a little enamored on the surgery table don't we haha. wait come back

I love themmmmm