A/N: This short, angsty one-shot is basically a summary of my dream last night. Don't I have wonderful dreams?
She's been awake all night waiting for him. Waiting. Just waiting. Now, she sits dazed on the couch, staring blankly at the darkened television. The silence is deafening. She knows she should do something. She eyes the remote sitting on the end table. She's never been a fan of late night television insanity. Television after eleven o'clock at night consists primarily of bunch of adults acting like hooligans. After the kids are in bed, the adults in the television industry turn into lunatics.
Her children are sound asleep and have been for a couple hours. She's been sitting here, waiting, for at least two hours. Amelia had called about an hour ago to tell her that she'd been pulled in on an emergency surgery and doesn't plan on making it home. So, Meredith is alone. All alone in the big, extravagant house in the woods.
She gnaws at the skin on her thumb. He hadn't told her when he'd be home. In fact, he hadn't told her anything. He'd told his sister that he'd be home tonight, and Amelia had relayed the message to her. "Derek told me to tell you that he'd be home tonight," Amelia's words replayed in her head.
Meredith had been livid. Derek can't even talk to her himself. She knows he's mad at her. "You're breaking up our family." His bitter last words to her replay on repeat in her head. It's what he'd said to her before leaving for D.C. two days ago. They hadn't spoken since.
"I don't know if my marriage can survive this." She'd broken down in Alex's arms in the Attendings' lounge earlier after finding out that Derek couldn't even call her to tell her that he'd be home today. She felt sick and nauseous. Has it really come down to this? To where he can't bear to speak to her? She's not the only one at fault here.
They've conquered so much together. It seems silly to let their marriage fall apart because of this. To just give up. She doesn't want to give up, but she's beginning to lose hope. She hates feeling like this, crappy and hopeless. Though, she knew what she was getting into the moment she told Derek she isn't moving to D.C.
He's not the sun. You are. Cristina's right. Meredith has changed so much for him. Over the years, she's shaved pieces of herself away so they can fit together, trying to convince herself that they were happy. And they were. Or, well, so she thought.
Was she really happy, though? She has two beautiful children, two children that she would not change for the world. Motherhood was the scariest thing she'd ever done, though it was the most rewarding. Nothing, not even a once-in-a-lifetime surgery, could surpass the feeling she'd felt when she'd watched Zola walk for the first time, or when Bailey said "Mama" for the first time. Or when Zola paints her a picture and writes "I (heart) you Mom" on it. Or when Bailey giggles at her funny faces. The little moments are worth everything, and Meredith truly cherishes them.
But something is missing. She's a surgeon. That's who she set out to be. That's who she is. It's in her blood. And why should she have to sacrifice her needs just so Derek can live out his dreams? It's not right. It's not right at all. Her needs are just as equally important as his, or at least they should be. She doesn't think he sees it like that.
Where the hell is he? Meredith is thinking just as she hears a rustle causing her heart to skip a beat. She flinches and grabs the baby monitor, wondering if one of the kids up. Then hears a key enter the door and sees the doorknob moving. The door creaks open and she sees him.
His already heavy heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he sees her. Derek Shepherd is dying inside. He was hoping she'd be asleep so he didn't have to face her. He's beat and doesn't have the energy to fight with her anymore. Though, part of him wants to tear her piece to piece, limb from limb. She's done this. She's put them in this situation and, for that, he can't forgive her. He doesn't know how he can. What she's done to their family is inconceivable.
He tries to avoid eye contact, but eventually sneaks a quick glance at her. Her eyes are bloodshot and he can tell she's been crying. Oh, so she feels bad? He thinks, scoffing, and he storms toward the bedroom without looking back.
Derek kicks his shoes off and sets his brief case next to the dresser. He looks around the room. He's supposed to be packing up everything, getting ready to move his whole family to D.C., but now he's not. He has to be in D.C. every Monday for a meeting with the President, so he's arranged his schedule to where he can fly to Seattle on Thursday evening and stay until Sunday evening. He's let his offer on the town house go and has settled for renting a two-bedroom apartment when he's there. He plans to set it up so the kids have a room of their own to sleep in when they visit. Assuming Meredith will allow them to visit. He hasn't told her any of this, though. He can't speak to her.
He sits on the bed and sees her leaning against the bedroom door. She doesn't say anything. Instead, she enters the room very slowly. She inches closer to him without saying a word. Her teeth curl over her lips. He exhales slowly, and his heart begins to beat faster as she comes closer to him.
He stands up and their bodies stand parallel to each other.
His woeful eyes gaze at her. She can see the sheer sadness written all over his face. She extends her arm to gently touch his arm, not expecting what happens next. He grabs her shoulders and throws her on the bed. She breathes heavily as he throws his shirt on the floor and begins unbuttoning her jeans.
"Der…" she begins, but he hastily puts his finger over her lips.
"Don't...say...anything," he growls. The sadness and fury wallows in his eyes, and she nods regretfully. He slides her jeans off and he rolls her on her stomach, so she's facing away from him. She closes her eyes, trying to form thoughts, but she can't. Suddenly, she feels his hard cock throbbing against the crack of her anus. She cocks her head back and nervously looks him in the eye. He looks so hurt. She opens her mouth, wanting to say something, but she doesn't. Instead, she lifts herself up and shifts her weight to her hands and knees, balancing her body on the cushion with her hands. She arches her back and, with no warning at all, he plunges into her. There's no foreplay, no passion, no romance, all of which were present during their sex and mockery days. This is not S&M. This is something else. Fucking. His thrusts are deep and quick, much quicker than usual. Meredith follows his rhythm with her hips, trying breathlessly to keep up. A moan elicits from her lips and she hears him grunt. She's panting heavily and steadily, feeling like a dog.
Then he pulls out. She crosses her arms together and turns around to face him. A lamenting frown encompasses his face. The pain stings her heart. She gently touches his chest, petting his soft chest hair, and then he pushes her forward; her head slams into the pillow, and he grips onto her legs and thrusts forcefully inside her. Her head spins as he thrusts faster, going deeper with each thrust. The tension builds as he pushes forward, bending them toward her head. She breathes hard, dying to cry out his name, but she doesn't. She moans loudly as her climax rises. She's getting close. So close.
And then everything all dies away at once. Derek pulls out just as she's about to climax. He collapses beside her, and she realizes it was his plan from the beginning.
She pouts silently, knowing he's punishing her.
She rests on her side facing him as he lies on his back, looking up at the ceiling. She rests her hand on his stomach and he covers her hand with his.
Neither speak.
"As long as a word remains unspoken, you are its master. Once you utter it, you are its slave."- Solomon Ibn Gabirol