Meredith opened the door to her house, her feet dragging over the rug in the passage way as she heard the glass door click shut passively. She dropped her bag next to the table, and walked into the living room, seeing Derek sitting on the couch, reading a book.

"Hey…" She sighed, sitting next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes in exhaustion, wishing that her heart felt lighter when she was with Derek, although it didn't. It still sat in her chest heavily, like some foreign object that shouldn't have been there.

It wasn't because of Derek. He had been great. But it hadn't been the same for the past two months. The 'fab five' had now become the tragic trio. Izzie was still having aggressive IL-2 chemo having miraculously come back to life after the chief ignored the DNR, but everyone knew she probably wouldn't make it back to work. And George- it had been eight weeks since George had died, and that hadn't gotten any easier to deal with. Meredith didn't like to think about it- none of them did, they were all in a denial.

"Hey…" Derek whispered, kissing her head and leaning his cheek against it. He closed his book, and reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers tightly as he squeezed. "How's Izzie today?"

"She's better…" Meredith replied tiredly. "The chemo is still kicking her ass. And she's still depressed about George. But then we all are… I wish I wasn't the one to tell her, I wish someone else would have to relive that moment where they made her life more crappy than it already is.

Meredith paced outside Izzie's room, biting her thumbnail of one hand and running the other through her hair. She took a deep breath, and turned the handle to Izzie's room, pictures of grinning brides and hypothetical honeymoon destinations still stuck on the walls. Her sneakers squeaked against the floor quietly as she came to a stop at the foot of the bed, looking at Izzie's pale, drawn face as the cancer fatigued her fighting body. They had managed to save her, and they had just weaned her off the sedation, forty eight hours after she arrested.

The news of George's death had been too much for Alex to tell Izzie, but after much coaxing from Derek, Alex had gone home to freshen up and sleep. A non-verbal conversation between Meredith and Derek was relayed through a series of meaningful looks as they tried to make it easier on her friends. Derek could sympathize with Alex as the loved one, and Meredith could do the same with Izzie as a patient. Meredith had volunteered herself to tell Izzie about George, but now she was there, the words didn't come to her head.

"Mer…" Izzie smiled weakly as her eyes opened, before they fluttered shut again. "Hi."

"Hi Iz." Meredith said, hearing her voice break already. "How are you feeling?"

"Like…I've been hit by a bus." Izzie attempted to joke.

Meredith bit her lip to prevent the sob that was creeping up her throat, and quickly wiped away her tears before Izzie opened her eyes again. Izzie's choice of words were beyond ironic- people used that analogy all the time, and it seemed even more cruel that in their case, it actually happened to one of them.

"Iz..Izzie…" Meredith began, clearing her throat. "…I've got some bad news…"

"What now?" Izzie sighed tiredly. "Are there some more mets? Is the IL-2 not working?"

"No…no, it's George- he…he was in an accident…" Meredith shook her head, cursing herself for not doing this better. This was her job- she delivered bad news all the time, like it was nothing, she knew all the generic phrases that you said even though you knew it didn't make anyone feel better like 'there was nothing anyone could have done' and 'I'm sorry'. But this was one of their own. " George died, Iz."

It played out like slow motion. Izzie licked her lips, and her eyes opened slowly, her brown eyes looking right at Meredith's green ones. "I had a feeling…" Izzie whispered.

Meredith stepped forward, grabbing Izzie's hand, as her friend squeezed back weakly, tears forming at the corners of her eyes and rolling slowly down the side of her face, blotting onto the lavender pillow case. "When I was coding… I had a dream."

Meredith's eyes widened. That weird place where you weren't dead and weren't alive didn't just exist in her head. She wasn't as crazy as she thought she was.

"I had a dream that I was on the elevator, in that pink prom dress, and the doors opened to George standing there in his army uniform. He was looking at me, his eyes telling me to go with him. He was waiting for me, to go into the light…but Alex- I have Alex, so I pushed the button and closed the doors. Maybe I could have pulled George in the elevator with me, and he'd still be here with us. And now I sound crazy…" Izzie began to cry, her body too exhausted to move with wrenching sobs, so all she could manage was ugly, loud wailing.

Meredith put her arms around her friend and cried with her, remembering her own time in purgatory, where she had to decide to live. Being strong for Izzie broke Meredith inside a little bit more. She couldn't deal with the thought there was something more they could have done medically for her friend, she couldn't help but think that if she had taken more time to work out what he was trying to say, and she found out it was George sooner, they could have done something more. And rationally, Meredith knew she was there as much for John Doe as she would have been for George O'Malley, but the guilt still wracked her body.

Derek had realised how much George's death had affected her, making her more upset than her own mother's death. But those interns had a special bond together, something that had seemed unbreakable. Five strangers had become family- cohesive through their troubled times, through ectopic pregnancies, failed exams, dying fiancés and parents, drownings and bomb explosions, and now five had become three. And Derek wasn't sure time would ever heal the wound George's death had created.

When she had drowned and nearly died, Bailey had told Meredith that she was the glue holding the group together, and that if she died, the others may never have survived it. But they were all in it together, like dominoes- if one fell, they'd all fall down. There were reminders of George everywhere, the pictures on the mantle, she was sure there was still some ice cream he bought lying in the freezer, and the world was still turning without him in it.

Meredith felt her chest move up and down against Derek's- against all odds, she was breathing, she had two near misses, and George didn't survive. Tears came to Meredith's eyes every time she thought about that day, about their plan to have an intervention and stop him from going to war-torn Iraq, but ironically, it would be a bus in Seattle that would kill him, not shelling in the Middle East. But it was almost the same- he died being a good Samaritan.

"When will it feel better?" Meredith asked Derek, her voice breaking as tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, burying her face into the soft cotton of Derek's shirt.

She remembered what the chief said that first day as she slipped into the OR unnoticed.

'Each of you comes here today hopeful, wanting in on the game. A month ago, you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today... you are the doctors. The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play, that's up to you.'

He didn't say one would get cancer. He didn't say one of them would die in a tragic accident. The blood in Meredith's body ran cold as she thought of that first encounter with George, where she, like the woman he saved , looked right through him, didn't even see him there, trying to be nice, sweet, kind George that she loved. He said he would never hurt her, he said what she wanted to hear, and she did the wrong thing by him. But all the men in her life had been such bastards up until that point, choosing other women apart from her, whether they were fathers or boyfriends, that maybe what she was looking for was staring her right in the face. She knew that was wrong now- that George was never meant to be her lover, that he was supposed to be that one guy you could love but didn't love sexually. He was George. And now he was gone.

He shifted so that he could hold her, both of his arms surrounding her as she silently cried. What was he supposed to tell her? That the pain she felt would never go away? This was the risk you took every time you loved someone- you gave them a piece of your heart that you would never get back. It didn't matter if you loved them like a partner, or as a brother, the concept was the same. Opening yourself up to someone and allowing them to be close was a gamble. Sometimes you won and sometimes you lost. There would be good days she'd feel guilty for, and there would be bad days where nothing seemed like it would get better, and that even if time healed all wounds, they would still leave her with a huge scar.

Meredith was so strong, and yet so fragile all at the same time. When Meredith broke down like this, Derek wasn't quite sure if what he was doing was good enough- if he was good enough. At times like this, just being there didn't seem to be what Meredith needed, and she'd fall apart in front of him, just managing to piece herself back together for work in the morning. He held her until she stopped crying, telling her it would be alright even though he didn't know if it would be. There was no running away, he would be there for all of it with her, he pledged that right there on that blue post-it. He had scribbled his promise of a lifetime to Meredith on that post-it, which had since lost it's stick, and was still securely fastened to the back of Meredith's locker with medical tape.

Derek had helped her up the stairs to bed that night, as he did every night she broke down. At first, they were frequent, the cloud of depression following Alex, Cristina and Meredith everywhere they went, but now, there were more good days than bad. He had expected to see George turn the corner himself, to come up to him and deliver a report, to be in the room working on a trauma as he got paged to the pit. Admitting that they'd never see George again was hard. He could still remember the day when both he and Meredith had come down to the smell of chocolate muffins, with George offering his taste buds to Izzie's dilemma. O'Malley was just as much part of this house as anyone else.

Derek stayed awake as Meredith slept fitfully- her sleep was so light she wasn't snoring. He knew how the nightmares would play out as they had many times before, how Meredith would cry out and gasp for air, scrunching her hands into fists. He stared up at the ceiling, seeing the streaks of grey from the streetlights outside reflect on the white paint as the rain pelted against the window in a lilting rhythm. He just didn't know what came after her dream, how to make the dream go away, and that's what kept him awake at night.

Meredith could still feel that shaky finger trace her palm, those blue eyes boring into hers as he wrote '0…0…7' repeatedly into her hand. Every time she thought about it, she relived that moment, where the stomach acid rose up her throat and she had to swallow it down, burning, as she ran through the halls.

"George!" Meredith gasped into the night air, jerking awake. She clutched at her neck, breathing noisily as she tried to get air in her lungs as the image of George's eyes sparkle as she worked out who he was faded from her imagination. The darkness of her room blurred into her vision as she reached for Derek, who already had his arms around her whispering non-descript comforting words in her ears as she held onto him tightly.

They lay together in silence, both awake, both thinking to themselves in the middle of the night. The lack of words strangely comforted Meredith- it had been said already. It had become a frequent routine for them now. Meredith could feel Derek's heartbeat as her head rested against his chest, his fingers running through her hair soothingly. She hugged him tighter, sighing. "I can't do this anymore, Derek…I'm not coping at all."

"I know…" Derek whispered.

His fingers tightened around her side as he wondered what she should do. He thought of suggesting her going back to see Dr. Wyatt for a few sessions, if it helped with their problems, it could help her with anything. Maybe she was too worried of burdening Derek with it all, maybe she thought he was too close to the situation too. He liked George, he appreciated he was there to deal with picking up Meredith after he chose Addison. He should have told him he was grateful for that, he should have done a lot of things.

"I just don't get a break. When I'm in hospital, I see him everywhere, people look at me with those sad sympathetic eyes that don't let me forget George is gone. And then at night, when I come home, he's here too, and it's only you here to try and make me forget George is never coming back. At least if he went to Iraq, there would be a chance we'd see him again, but knowing I'll never see him again, and everything is replaying in my mind when I'm awake, when I'm asleep- I'm just so exhausted." Meredith inhaled shakily, and Derek could feel fresh tears wet his t-shirt. They were tears of frustration, of sadness and loss, and Derek knew they would still be there unless they did something.

"We should go away." Derek blurted into the darkness, his words coming out before he had time to process them.

Meredith looked at him, her gasp of surprise breaking the melodic sound of the heavy Seattle rain hitting the roof and window pane. "Where?"

Derek felt encouraged- she didn't just shoot the idea down, she actually wanted to go somewhere, to get away. "Anywhere. Think of it as a honeymoon…" He leaned back against the headboard, bringing her with him as she snuggled up to him.

"Somewhere hot…" Meredith thought out loud. "With a sandy beach, blue sea and cloudless sky, unlimited cocktails…" Meredith's voice became heavy as her eyes drifted shut.

He felt her body fully relax and go limp in his arms as she fell asleep, and he continued to run his fingers through her hair soothingly, glad that he could at least bring her some comfort.

Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna give it back to you

By now you should have somehow realized what you gotta do

I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now

Back beat the word is on the street that the fire in you heart is out

I'm sure you've heard it all before and you've never really had a doubt

I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now

And all the roads we have to walk are winding

And all the lights that lead the way are blinding

There are many things I'd like to say to you but I don't know how

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me

And after all, you're my wonderwall

RYAN ADAMS- WONDERWALL.