The Greatest of These

A/N I've been really surprised by how few stories have come from the proposal scene in 5.1.9. You know the one, the one where a certain couple have a great moment in an elevator. So, with that in mind I decided to write one, just a short one, mainly to ease the Grey's Anatomy withdrawal symptoms I'm suffering from, but also to get a few things said that were hinted at in the episode, and fix the situation where by the end of the episode Meredith was definitely engaged, but still didn't have a ring to show for it.

I've deliberately kept this one short, so there won't be too much of my tendency to go over the past too much…I hope! The object of the exercise is moving forward, just like Meredith and Derek.

Just like my previous fic, No Record of Wrong, I've used 1 Corinthians chapter 13 as inspiration for the title of this, though the two stories are not connected….At all. Please read and review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, but I'm mightily relieved Derek has got rid of the beard.

By the time I leave the hospital my head is spinning. All the nervous energy I've stored up all day has gone, leaving me tired and worn. Part of me feels that if I stop now I'll fall down and won't be able to get back up again. Another part of me is buzzing. I feel alive, fresh, almost like I could do anything, be anything. All because of Meredith.

It's been a hell of a day. It was my first day back after Jen's death, which, even without anything else would have been enough. I know what the hospital is like for gossip, I know what people must be saying about me behind my back, but that isn't the thing I was scared of. No, what scared me today was having to operate on Izzie Stevens, one of Meredith's closest friends, to remove a cancerous tumour from her brain. If I'm honest, it wasn't even the surgery that scared me, though after Jen and all other deaths I've had lately, I don't know how I would deal with losing another patient so soon. What really scared me today, what made my hands shake when I ran through the procedure, was the thought of what it might mean for us, Meredith and me, if Izzie died on the table. It was the same thought that made me put the ring in front of Meredith this morning, and the same one that had me going after her when she called in to the scrub room just so I could have my ferryboats scrub cap. It's what made me practically beg her to be with me, to say yes to me. I thought that if she just said yes I could handle the surgery. If I knew I would still have her I could deal with whatever happened. She said no. She said she loves me, but she said no.

It was only when the surgery was over and I'd spoken to the Chief I realised what Meredith had been doing. All day she'd been making me move forward, supporting me, telling me again and again that she knew I could do it; even when she wouldn't say yes to the proposals she still believed in me. With her strength she got me back in the O.R. and it worked. Izzie had come through the surgery, and though she still has a long way to go, I'd done my part. It made me think of all the other times Meredith's been in the O.R. with me, times when we've pulled off surgeries that shouldn't have worked, the times when she's shown me what a great surgeon she is going to be, and the times when she has believed in me when I was ready to give up.

When Meredith stood in the elevator and said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me, everything suddenly made sense. It's a cliché, but it felt like everything up to that point meant nothing. The fact that I'd been married before, all the crap Meredith and I have been through to get to this, none of it meant anything. All that mattered was that Meredith had said yes to me. She'd stood in that elevator in her purple sweater, but to me it was her royal robe and she was my queen, and she'd accepted me, even after all the times I've shown her how unworthy I am, how I'll never deserve her. She believed in me.

I let myself into the house and I'm struck by how quiet it is. Alex isn't home; presumably he's spending the night with Izzie at the hospital. Having seen her car on the driveway I know Meredith is home. The thought makes me smile, though I wonder for a second if the serenity that radiated out of her in the elevator will still be there, or if in the hour or so we've been apart will have given her time to freak out.

I'm beginning to think that leaving my pager switched on when we were in the elevator was a really bad idea. If I hadn't it wouldn't have gone off just as we were about to step out of the elevator on the ground floor, after several long minutes of celebrating our engagement, which, obviously, involved kissing. A lot of kissing. I'd just been beginning to think that the world could come to an end right there and then and I wouldn't care, beyond the fact that if it did I wouldn't get to marry the woman in my arms after all, when the pager went off. So, God officially hates me. Either that or someone is making damned sure we do get married. It's a plan I'm happy to go along with.

I checked the pager and saw it was Owen Hunt. I remembered our conversation from earlier in the day which ended in him yelling at me when I was telling him about studies into Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and I knew I had to deal with this. I hoped he'd had a change of mind and wanted me to help him. I kissed Meredith again, quickly, like a habit, knowing we will be doing it for the rest of our lives, and I told her I'd see her at home. I didn't even think to remember that I haven't been there for days, or to ask if I can come back. She smiled at me, that same beautiful smile she gave me when I was taking her on a walk down surgical memory lane. It lit up her whole face, she dazzled me. Then she said she was going to see Cristina and she'd see me later and she stepped out of the elevator and walked away. As the doors closed again, obscuring Meredith from view, I realised that for the second time in almost as many minutes she has answered a question I haven't even asked, but we both know exactly what we mean. We understand each other.

The hallway lights are on, as they always are until everyone is home for the evening and I wonder where Meredith is. I glance up the stairs, wondering if she's already in bed, then I see the dim glow of a light in the living room and I know. She's waited up for me.

I follow the light in the living room and look towards the sofa to see Meredith isn't sitting on it. Instead she's sitting on the floor, using the sofa as a backrest, her legs crossed at the knee. Her head is down, her hair flowing over her face like a lavender scented waterfall and I wonder if she's fallen asleep waiting for me. I step into the room a little closer, trying not to wake her, and then I see she's not asleep at all. She's looking at something, so focused on it in fact, that she hasn't heard me. It's a large sheet of white paper. The house plans I had drawn up months ago when I was trying to rush her into something she wasn't ready for.

"What are you doing?" I say softly, trying not to make her jump. She doesn't. She takes her eyes off the plans and looks up to me and smiles again, just like at the hospital, all radiance and serenity. I think I'm becoming addicted to that smile.

"House plans." She says, by way of a reply. Again with the smile. "I found them in your den..study...office...whatever....." The smile wavers just for a second. "You left some of your things in there when you were staying at the trailer, and I found them, and we talked about a house, before, we talked about a house on your land and..." Meredith stops her ramble and goes to get up off the floor. Before she can move far I step over and sit down on the floor beside her, manoeuvre her so she is sitting on her knees in front of me, and take her hand in mine, running my thumb over her long, thin fingers. The paper from the plans crunches as Meredith sits on it.

"Our land," I say, looking into Meredith's eyes.

I see the question forming on her lips before she gets it out. "What?"

I shake my head and smile. "You said it's my land and it's not, it's ours, mine and yours."

Meredith seems to take a moment to let this sink in, as if she can't quite get that I would consider the land ours, rather than exclusively mine. Then, slowly, that smile makes a reappearance. "You mean a sort of what's yours is mine and what's mine is yours, sort of thing?"

I can't help it, I grin at her and then I lean towards her a little and kiss her, just softly, on the lips. "Exactly," I say as I pull away a little, sitting back down on my butt.

"Okay," Meredith almost sighs the word. It makes me want to kiss her again, so I do. Kissing Meredith seems like the thing to do tonight. Well, kissing and other things. The other things can wait until later, right now the kissing is enough.

After several long minutes when all I can think about is kissing Meredith, we both pull away to catch our breath. We sit staring at each other, almost like we haven't seen each other for years and we're trying to soak in the sight of each other. Then, suddenly, something clouds Meredith's eyes.

"How did it go with Owen at the hospital?"

I know that strictly speaking I shouldn't say anything, that technically in coming to me for help, Owen Hunt has become my patient and has a right to confidentiality, but I know Meredith won't say anything to anyone else, and besides, Cristina's probably told her by now that Owen has issues. Even with everything that has gone on today I know how angry Meredith was when she found out that Owen had almost strangled Cristina in his sleep.

"He definitely has PTSD", I reply quietly. "He's in bad shape, but hopefully, now we know, we should be able to do something for him." I try to smile again, but if anything Meredith's face has fallen further.

"I was horrible to him today, I kept trying to keep Cristina away from him. I just couldn't stop thinking of him with his hands around her throat, and I…"

"You were taking care of your friend, Owen will understand." I cut her off, reaching out and brushing my hand through her hair. "You weren't to know Owen has problems, he's been covering it for a while, and done a good job of it too."

Meredith shakes her head disparagingly. "A while ago I found Cristina and Owen in a hallway at work and he was dressing a cut on her elbow, a deep one. She told me it was nothing, it was fine, and I was too distracted to say anything, and now they've broken up and Cristina's sad and…" Meredith stops speaking and shakes her head despondently.

I listen to Meredith talk, turning her words over in my mind. I register vaguely that she said that Owen and Cristina have broken up, but it isn't that I'm concerned about. It's the rest of it. It's weird, but lately I've become used to Meredith telling me things about her friends, like when Cristina wasn't talking to her. She talked so much to me then, shared things. It was such a change from the past, when trying to get her to tell me anything at all was like pulling teeth, but then, I remind myself, I haven't always given her reason to feel safe to confide in me. But as I listen to her now I realise I don't know what she's talking about. I don't remember her telling me about Cristina cutting herself, and I definitely don't remember Meredith being distracted. Wouldn't I remember something like that?

"When was this?" I ask her, after a minute of trying to work it out in my mind and coming up blank.

Meredith sighs, just softly. "It was when you were sort of camped out on the sofa. On the day of your deposition."

Just like that we're back to us again. Back to that day when I killed a patient I was trying to save. Back to that awful night in the woods when I was drunk, really drunk, and I said things to Meredith, cruel, nasty things, because I was hurt and embarrassed and I wanted someone else to feel something of what I felt. We're back to that moment when I took a baseball bat to Meredith's engagement ring and tossed it away like it meant nothing. I know she's forgiven me, I know she understands, and I know that on the night I called her and she came back out to me at the trailer with Izzie's brain scans, I spent hours after she'd left on my hands and knees looking for the ring until I got it back for her, but it doesn't take it away.

"I pushed you away. After Jen died, and then the deposition, I pushed you away and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Though I would rather not look at her and say this, it would be easier if I wasn't looking at her, I make myself. I want her to know how much I mean it. "I was hurt and embarrassed, but that's no excuse for how I behaved to you. I just…."

I don't know how to say what I'm thinking, what I feel, but Meredith doesn't step in. Instead, she's giving me time. She's waiting for me. The way she's looking at me gives me strength. She's still doing exactly what she's been doing all day. Making me move forward. "I felt like everything was falling apart but I couldn't work out how to put it all back together. I felt like I was failing, destroying everything, and I was doing it right in front of you, and I couldn't stand it, so I pushed you away, and then that night in the woods, you were there and I was drunk, and just for a minute I wanted you to feel what I felt, and I knew I was hurting you, but I just couldn't stop myself. It was like I was crazy. Then you said you knew there was a ring and I just couldn't believe you could possibly want it, or that I would ever deserve you, so I tossed it away and…I'm so sorry."

All the time I've been speaking Meredith has been watching me, waiting. Now I've stopped and I look at her properly. She has tears in her eyes, but underneath that I can see all the strength she has. Then, to my amazement, she smiles at me again. It's a little watery because of the tears in her eyes, but it's there.

"I do want the ring."

She says the words so simply it takes my breath away. I nod at her dumbly. "I know you do."

Suddenly Meredith giggles and shakes her head. The movement sends her hair flying. The smell of her conditioner washes over me. Lavender. I inhale the familiar scent, letting it take away all the memories I've just raked up. Then I realise Meredith is talking. "When I said I want the ring I meant I really want the ring….Literally." The tears in her eyes have vanished almost as if they were never there. There's something else in her gaze now. Something determined.

I feel my mouth drop open. Is she really saying…?

"Literally, Derek."

I hear the laugh in her voice, but it's as if I can't move. All the signals from my limbs to my brain seem to have shut down. I know there must be some medical explanation for it but at the moment I can't remember. All I can think is that Meredith just said she wants the ring. Literally.

Several seconds pass and all I can do is sit and stare at her. My tongue seems to have decided to stick to the roof of my mouth. Then it dawns on me. I realise what she is saying to me. Even though I batted the ring away she still wants it. She still wants me, even if I have just spent days showing her the worst side of myself. I know we've been engaged since the moment in the elevator when she said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me, but now, this minute, on the floor in her living room, the place where this thing with us started, she wants the ring. Her ring.

I look at Meredith for a second. She's still sitting in front of me on the corner of the paper the plans of our house are on and she's waiting for me to do something. So I do. My hand goes automatically to my jacket pocket and finds the little black box. I pull it out, all the time I'm looking at Meredith, holding my breath. This really is it. Then, slowly, I flick the box open. The ring glows in the low light of the room, casting a rainbow on the ceiling. The sparkle is reflected in Meredith's eyes, but she isn't looking at the ring. She's looking at me. Waiting.

I wonder for a second if I should pass Meredith the box and let her put the ring on herself, but I can't resist it. I take the ring in my fingers, carefully easing it out of box. The rays of light dance on the ceiling as it moves. There isn't a sound in the room other than my heart, or is it Meredith's? I don't know any more. All I know is that as I reach for Meredith's left hand she meets me halfway, and I know what she wants me to do. I swallow hard as I take her left hand in my right, and then, holding the ring gently by the band, I begin to slide it down the length of her third finger, until it reaches the base.

We sit in silence for a minute. I'm still holding on to Meredith's hand like she's a lifeline, and I realise in this moment that she is. She's everything, she always has been, right from the moment I heard her voice after our first surgery together. I'd spent a night with her, trying to wipe out the pain I'd left in New York with the comfort of a body in Seattle, but in that moment after Katie Bryce's surgery, when we were both exhausted after a 48-hour shift, Meredith sat in the hallway and brought me back to life, and I've never been the same again, and I never want to be. Meredith is mine, and I'm completely, hopelessly, irretrievably, hers.

As we begin to kiss and touch, as the world begins to spin from under us, I know Meredith might have difficult times ahead. Izzie Stevens is still very sick, Cristina Yang is still alone, and Meredith will struggle with how she can be happy while her friends lives are falling apart, but we will survive. I love Meredith and she loves me and we will survive.