"What's the most frequent cause of diarrhea in hospitalized patients?"

"Rotavirus. No, no, uh — salmonella."

"Diarrhea in hospitalized patients."

"The most frequent cause of diarrhea in hospitalized patients is C. diff, which can lead to toxic megacolon, perforation, sepsis, and death. That's what killed Susan."

Meredith walks into the kitchen, already wearing her black dress for the funeral of her father's second wife.

"Is she okay?" Izzie looks back at Meredith's retreating figure.

"Yeah, she's fine." Cristina flips through Callie's laminated notecards.

"Dude, she's messed up." Alex retorts.

I fiddle with the slit of my own black attire. "It's a given. Susan was a better mom to her than her biological mom."

"Is she going to the hospital first or the funeral?"

"First to the hospital, then to the funeral, then to the test this afternoon."

Two weeks have flashed by in the blink of an eye — although with the number of occurrences, it felt slow — and it's time for the intern exams.

Cristina pours some more thermoses with coffee for the ride to the hospital. By the time I arrive there, Derek has already been on-call for a few hours.

"You're going to the funeral?" He stands next to me in the empty elevator.

"I, uh, might. If Meredith decides to go." I nod lightly. "I'm just going to support her because, you know, she had grown close to Susan over the weeks."

His hand palms against the small of my back. "I brought a black suit to work. Just in case you want me there or. . ."

"Thank you, Derek."

I leave a faint kiss on the corner of his lips before stepping out of the elevator. The doors close, and the last thing I see is his somber face.

As an excuse for studying, Cristina, Izzie, George, and I watch the E.M.T.s and attendings wheel gurney after gurney, each one holding a climber from Mount Rainier.

"Did you see that? That is freaky." Cristina gasps.

"Flail chest. I've never seen one before, and it is such a. . .beautiful sight." My eyes remain wide open. "Must be painful."

She and I tug Meredith away from the others, the three of us plowing down the hallway in frustration and stress.

"Why does today have to be test day?"

"I know."

She and I look back at the third member of our group, the only one out of us going through something more important than the exam.

"You could talk to the chief and see if you can take the exam some other time."

"I don't need to take the test later."

"Whatever you say, Mer."

"What are you fools doing here?"

The sight of our resident, Dr. Bailey, scares the living crap out of the five interns stalking the E.R. floor.

"In a few hours, you people are taking a test that will determine the course of your entire medical careers because the five interns with the lowest test scores will be cut from the program."

She charges towards us with a warm I.V. tower in tow.

"But are you studying for this test? No, you're not."

We continue to move backwards to the other end of the hallway.

"Are you helping out in the E.R.? You are most certainly not."

The five of us stop against the wall with nowhere else to escape to.

"Are you getting the hell out of here before I throw you out? I think you are."

Just like that, we run out of the E.R. and avoid her fiery wrath for the rest of the day. Upstairs, on the main floor, Meredith prepares to leave for the hospital. . .when her father arrives.

"Hey. I-I-I was just on my way —"

"No. No, I came here to tell you. . .you're not wanted." He unsteadily looks around the other doctors. "I don't want you at any funeral, Meredith."

The day Susan died on the operation table, Thatcher had grown a drunken and messy hatred for his first daughter. In a blind of emotion, he slapped her when she delivered the news of his wife's unfortunate death.

"She trusted you!" He yells into her face. "She came to you for help, and you killed her. You did. You killed my wife. You took her from me."

"Dad!"

Molly Grey, the youngest daughter, steps out of the elevator.

However, he continues to lash out. "So I don't-I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you. And I do not want you anywhere near her funeral. You understand me? Do you understand me?" His steps stagger.

"Dad. Dad, come on." Molly tugs on her dad's coat. "Lexie's waiting in the car. We have to go, Dad. We have to go now."

"She was everything to me. . .all I had. She was all I had."

As he walks back to the elevator with Molly, Meredith stands still in her place, frozen over by the emotions he left behind.

With the sudden change of plans, Meredith changes into her scrubs for the first time today. We sit around the locker room, gathering our necessities for the test while silently comforting Meredith.

"You people need to head upstairs." The chief informs us. "Dr. Grey will join you in a minute."

The rest of us leave for the exam while Meredith and Webber talk privately.

"Please take your seats, doctors, and put all study materials away." The proctor of the intern exam walks up and down the aisles of desks. "And write your name in the upper right-hand corner of your answer sheets."

We settle into the flurry of blue scrubs, ready to take the exam that determines our futures as doctors.

"You may open your test booklet. . .now."

An unsettling feeling sits in the pit of my stomach as I stop beside Derek at the nurses' station, looking over his shoulder at the C.T. scans.

"Hey. How'd it go?"

"Thatcher was drunk, and he yelled at Meredith and told her to stay away from the funeral."

Derek looks up from his paperwork. "What?"

"And she didn't write anything on the intern exam." My elbows rest against the countertop. "She just sat there."

"What about you?"

"I think I did well."

His arm daintily curls around my waist. "Good. Now, Lennox called earlier. He wants to know if the three of us want to have dinner soon?"

"Meaning you'll be joining us?"

"It'll be the first time I'm meeting him as your boyfriend."

That evening, Meredith's house becomes the central spot for Cristina's bachelorette party: her one night of freedom before endless years of marriage.

"What the hell am I supposed to do about the stupid vows?"

"You still haven't written anything?"

"Well, it's stupid crap."

"No, it isn't."

Cristina swirls her finger around the rim of her margarita, licking the salt off her fingertips as she grumbles about the vows.

"What am I supposed to say?" She sits up in her chair. "I swear to love and cherish you every moment of every day of my life? Because that's not real. That's not how it works, right?"

"It does. . .at first." Callie pours herself another glass of wine. "But then it passes."

Izzie drops half of a lemon. "No, it doesn't. You guys are just used to it, that's all." She looks between the rest of us. "You already have it. You have that thing everybody else wants.You can"

"A vagina?"

"Leven."

"Sorry."

"But let me tell you, if you couldn't be with the person that you love, I guarantee that hearing him promise to love you and honor you and cherish you, no matter what, it would be pretty much all you could think about."