Love and other moments are just
Chemical reactions in your brain, in your brain.
And feelings of aggression are the absence
Of the love drug in your veins, in your veins.

It's raining again. Like everyday, it's raining. In Seattle, that's not such a big deal. It's life. Rain, that's an everyday occurrence. And in a world where anything can happen, everyday occurrences, things that can be counted on? Well, they're kind of comforting. Don't you think so?

A man walks into a bar. He's angry about something, that's obvious from the way he slams the door open, and from the way he goes right to the counter and asks for his drink. Desperately in need of it, he seems to be, too, judging from the way his whole body seems to slump when he sits down in the corner. His dark hair is damp from the rain, and he runs his hands through it before downing his shot of scotch. Swallow.

He doesn't look relieved. Two hours and twelve shots later, he still looks awful. Nothing's changed, except that now he's drunk and his hair is dry.

And the man over in the other corner is looking at him as though he'd like to kill him with his bare hands.

Love come quickly 'cause I feel my
Self-esteem is caving in, it's on the brink.
Love come quickly 'cause I don't think
I can keep this monster in, it's in my skin.

Several days later, another enters the bar. She looks beaten, so exhausted that she might just give up completely. She drags herself to the bar and drops onto one of the stools. The bartender sees her and smiles, lending support. They must be friends. He makes his way over and asks how she is. She asks for tequila. He looks down at her down-turned blonde head and nods knowingly.

She makes her way through several shots before she even begins to talk about why she's there.

It's still raining. Rain is a constant in Seattle. One of the only things that you can count on. Anything else is too erratic to depend on.

Love and other socially acceptable emotions
Are morphine, they're morphine,
Cleverly concealing primal urges often felt
But rarely seen, rarely seen.

GAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGA

Love, I beg you, lift me up into
That privileged point of view, the world of two.
Love, don't leave me, because I console myself
That Hallmark cards are true, I really do.

Everything was dark. Blackness. She found it comfortable for a while. She drifted there for a very long time, letting her mind ramble along the warm, velvet black. But after a while, she noticed an irritating beeping. It was loud and coarse, and it made her haven of darkness suddenly feel stifling. And as the encroaching beeping refused to stop, she found herself struggling with the suffocating dark. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. She felt as though there was something strangling her, choking her, something inside her throat.

Get it out, get it out, get it out...

She fought with her eyelids, and slowly, surely, she won the battle. She dragged them open, and then wished that she hadn't.

The walls were a white she knew so well. Through the half-open door, she saw a hallway that she knew as well as the hallways in her own home. There were the monitors and the instruments and the beeping coming from a machine just to the side of her head. She knew everything about them. She knew how they worked, and what they did, and exactly how to use them.

Yes, the hospital she knew.

What she didn't know was why she was the one in the bed and not the person looking down on her.

And there was still that thing inside of her throat. She started gagging on it, violently convulsing and spitting, trying to eject whatever was inside of her. She heard someone suddenly yelling her name, and she saw hands fumbling in front of her face. She watched as the tube was pulled away and her spluttering turned into ragged coughs that tore at her raw throat.

"Meredith! Mer, It's okay. It's okay, you're okay, it's okay." Meredith knew the voice, it tugged at her, she knew it. Her head was fuzzy and suddenly the room seemed to dim. As the white walls slowly faded to black, she heard that familiar, desperate voice repeating those words like a mantra.

"You're okay, Mer, you're okay..."

I'm gunning down romance,
It never did a thing for me
But heartache and misery.
Ain't nothing but a tragedy.

Meredith drifted again. But the darkness was not so empty this time. The first thing she saw were streetlights. They were dim, the pictures in her mind in black and white. Everything was slightly blurred, and she was having trouble focusing. She heard a screech, and then a horrible crunching, like someone was crushing a pop can. She heard screams. She saw a broken windshield. And then there was nothing. Just the dark.

She came to with a jolt. Her eyes snapped open and she registered again with surprise her surroundings. What had she expected? She silently scolded herself for fooling herself into believing that it had been a dream. Why couldn't she just face things, for one goddamn time in her- No. That would lead to memories that she could not escape from. She fled from them before they had a chance to capture her.

Instead, she tried to figure out why she was the patient instead of the doctor. Why was she the one in the bed? What had she been doing before... whatever it was that had happened before.

She had worked. She knew that. She could remember holding a scalpel in her hands quite clearly, remember the surgery high. That had been today. But after. What had happened after?

Meredith scowled. This was useless. All she was succeeding in doing was frustrating herself. Of course she had worked today. She was always working. It was the only thing that she could find happiness in anymore. Ever since- No. No, no, no. Do not think about that. You will end up doing nothing but hurting yourself.

But that was why she enjoyed work.

When she was cutting, she didn't think of him.

I'm gunning down romance,
It never did a thing for me
But heartache and misery.
Ain't nothing but a tragedy.

GAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGA

God, oh, god.

What will I do?

What would I do if she was gone?

Christina was curled up in a tiny ball in the corner of a very dark on-call room. She was alone- she'd made sure of that. To be surrounded by everyone else, everyone else who was freaking out about Meredith, that she could not take. She was Christina. She was the professional one, the detached one, the one that was cold and distant and who never ever got personally involved.

But right now she was so far from distant, and it terrified her.

It was her fault. Why hadn't she stayed with Meredith? Why hadn't she been there? She had known that she was wasted. She knew that Meredith was empty and that when Mer was empty, she filled the void with tequila. God, Christina, why couldn't you just be there? You should have been there.

Another tear rolled down her cheek, and the sobbing started again.

Love, don't leave me.
Take these broken wings,
I'm going to take these broken wings.

GAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGA

And learn to fly,
And learn to fly away.

I'm gunning down romance.

What the hell had she done today? Meredith reflected on that strange dream that she'd had. When the screaming had started, she had been terrified. Scared out of her mind. The dream had been so vivid, even with the blurriness. Like it had been real...

Real.

Oh my god.

What the hell had she done?

And learn to fly,
And learn to fly away.
I'm gunning down romance.