Hello all,

It's been almost a year since Derek died, and I thought that by now, I would be able to overcome it. The thing is, I grew up watching Grey's from the start. I have spent half my life excitedly waiting for Thursday to see what would happen next. I have followed each and every one of these beloved characters and they have been my companion all the way through middle school high school, and now college. Meredith and Derek symbolise so much more than an OTP for me. They have inspired me and gotten me through the hardest moments, keeping alive my hopes of someday finding such an extraordinary love with someone. So, as you can imagine, Derek's death has been devastating to me. Being so emotionally attached to his and Meredith's characters in particular, it felt like losing a friend, a member of my family.

The truth is that things have gotten better, I can now listen to songs and see things that remind me of him without breaking down in tears. However, I recognise that even though his death isn't something I'll ever fully come to terms with and get over with, I never allowed myself the opportunity to grieve. I realised that after watching the episode where Meredith gets attacked. The scene where Richard talks to her about forgiveness, and forgiving Derek for dying to soon as well as the scenes with the therapist in the next episode made me think that just like Mer didn't truly allow herself to grieve for losing Derek, I didn't allow myself to do it either. Too many things happened too fast. I think I needed to know how Mer dealt with everything that happened in the following months, and how she managed to survive. Perhaps going through the process with her will make everything make more sense. I also think that since I admire Mer's resilience so much, it was necessary to highlight and explore this feature of her in what I consider was the hardest time of her life. So this is my way of coping. I am by no means a writer, but I hope you enjoy these series of chapters that attempt to fill the gaps within the two episodes following Derek's death.

Disclaimer: All characters and storylines belong to Shonda Rhimes. This is me being creative and attempting to mend a fan's broken heart.

Numb. If anyone asked me to describe how I feel, I honestly don't think I can. This just doesn't seem real. It's like I'm falling down a rabbit hole. Everything
keeps spinning around me and it's all dark. There is no way out. People have been coming to me all afternoon, they're saying things, giving their sympathies, but I can't hear them, I don't want to hear them. I mechanically whisper "thank you" to every passing person, unable to take my gaze away from the invitation to the service. It has a small outline of Seattle engraved to it, full of skyscrapers, the space needle, and a ferryboat. I think of all the ferryboats that Derek will never ride again and a million tears build up in the corner of my eyes, threatening to fall down and cover my face like pouring rain. I swallow thickly and it hurts so much because the knots inside of me are making it hard to breathe as I attempt to regain composure. But it's too late, tears are steadily streaming down my face as I burry my fingers into a pillow, holding it tightly against me. My eyes have been holding an inevitable storm for too long, and they finally let go.

As I wipe a few tears off my face I look out the window and realise the sky is crying too. I have always love rain in Seattle, but this time it's not a beautiful natural phenomena, it's a cry, a plea to go back in time and make all of these go away. Observing the rain and the dark evening sky feels like a shock running down my spine, snapping me back to reality. I look around and everyone is finally gone. Alex and Maggie probably went home,and Amelia must be sleeping in her room. They have been helping me with the kids today, since we came back to the house from the cemetery. I want to get up and go check on the kids, they're probably sound asleep by now. I try to take some impulse from the sofa but I can't move. It's like all the weight of the earth is downing upon me, sinking deep down with me, and no one can help. For a split second, I think about giving up and just staying here until I fall asleep. Because maybe if I close y eyes, this will feel less like a nightmare that I can't wake up from. Maybe if I fall asleep I'll wake up and Derek will be right beside me, caressing my cheek and breathing me in as he tells me everything is going to be okay. Except he won't. I'm alone in the dark. He isn't waiting for me in our bedroom, and the living room starts feeling too big, like the walls keep getting taller and I just shrink more and more with each passing second. I need to get up. I have to go check on the kids, make sure they have their pjs on and that they're covered with blankets because it's getting cold. Somehow, I have to find the strength to lift myself up.

I take a few deep breaths and finally manage to stand on my feet. I slowly walk down the hallway and go inside Bailey's room first. He's wearing a blue onesie that Derek and I got him on the way back from work one afternoon. He looks so much like him when he sleeps, and he's a light sleeper just like his dad is, was... I brush my fingers through his hair as carefully as I can to make sure he's fast asleep and then head to Zola's room. She's profoundly asleep, holding onto he favourite doll. She's been sleeping in her big-girl bed for almost a year now. I kneel down to kiss her forehead and when I do, I see the picture of her first birthday on top of her nightstand. All the flashbacks come at once: Derek showing me the pink puffy dress he got her while I attempted to decorate her birthday cake, the small gathering in the house, moments of pure joy. I think about all the birthdays to come that Derek is going to miss, all the pictures that we'll take…and he won't be in any of them. I feel a tear roll down my cheek and land on Zola's hair. I burry my face in my hands and quickly get up and start walking out of her room before I break down in loud sobs and wake her or Bailey up.

I go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, maybe it will help me calm down and ease the dizziness. I reach the counter and take a glass from the cupboard. As I'm pouring some tap water in the glass, I glance at the fridge and my eyes meet Derek's smile all over it. There's at least a dozen pictures hanging under the magnets. There's a picture of the day we brought Bailey home, the first ultrasound, Zola with her soft toys in Derek's arms, one of Derek and I when he convinced me to go hiking with him sometime after we got engaged and another one of me and the kids snuggling in bed on a Sunday morning. I look away trying to escape the memories, but no matter where I stare, I see him. He's everywhere, in every door, every window, every single detail inside this house has Derek engraved in it. It all represents him and me, and everything we've built during our life together.

I take a sip of water but barely get it to pass through my throat. I am holding on to the counter so tightly, because I feel all my strength vanish as I realise this isn't a nightmare. I'm not having a bad dream, I am not going to wake up. This isn't going to stop. For the first time in a long while, reality is worse than the most horrible dream. The realisation that everything I'm experiencing right now is real, is like breaking the spell that had me numbed. Suddenly, I can feel everything, and it's crushing me. Anguish. Desperation. Fear. Sadness. Loneliness. Every cell in my body hurts. I close my eyes, trying to bring my breathing back to a normal pace, but I can't. How am I supposed to breathe if he isn't breathing with me? How am I supposed to live if he isn't here to live with me and the kids? How am I supposed to raise the kids, go to work and do everything without him by my side. All I want to do is take it back. All the fighting, the time we wasted when Addison came back, when I was afraid of being happy with him, when he left to D.C... I want to take it all back because it finally hits me how wrong I was when I told him I could live without him, but never wanted to. The truth, it seems, is that I can't live without him. I don't want to and I don't know how to. How could I ever learn to live without him?

I can feel my heartbeat raise and the only thing that is clear to me in this very moment is that I have to get out of here. I don't belong here anymore. Not without him. Finally, a small rush of hits and I quickly walk back to my room. I can't help but freeze for a second, because the first thing I see are his blue shirt and tie. He is never going to wear them again. I'll never get to tell him how much more beautiful than the ocean his eyes look when he wears them. I pick them up and the smell of Derek's after shave and cologne hit my nostrils immediately. It won't be long until the smell fades away from all his clothes and goes away forever. Just like he is. I look away and my eyes land on the wall, where the blue post it hangs above our bed. "No running" "To love each other, even when we hate each other" "To take care when old, smelly and senile". He promised he would remind me who he was every day if I ever got Alzheimer's. Tears start running down my face again and I let out a broken sob. We made so many promises, and against all odds, we had managed to keep them. We survived a shooting, losing a baby, almost losing Zola, the trial, a plane crash, me almost dying when Bailey was born, being apart when he was in D.C. ... We made it through so many things. Wasn't that enough to prove the Universe that we were meant to be together forever? Apparently nothing was ever enough. Not even a lifetime with Derek would ever be enough. We had far less than that. Every possibility of us overcoming new challenges, raising our kids and growing old together is now gone.

My eyes keep moving to the right and I stare at the tumour in the wall. I can still hear Derek drawing it, his eyes burning with passion and excitement as he explained his patient's case to me flash like a movie in the back of my mind. Another wave of weakness hits me. I try to sit down but this time it's stronger than I am. I collapse on the bed and drown my sobs in Derek's pillow. Tears are soaking my face and the surface of the pillowcase. Inhaling his scent only makes it worse. I miss everything about him. I miss his smell, his touch, his voice. How can I be comforted if the one person in the world that could ever bring me comfort is no longer here? I want so desperately to fall asleep and wake up two days ago, when everything was so perfect and I was looking at him playing with the kids in the morning before going to work. How is it that two days ago, this place was a safe haven, and now it feels like a torture station? No matter where I go, what I do, or what I look at, nothing makes sense, and everything feels horrible without him. I start to think that if I stay here, Derek's absence is going to be lingering everywhere, and I'm not strong enough to face it. Not now anyway. Ever since I received the news and went to the hospital with the kids, all I've been doing is try to be strong and hold myself together. I don't know if it was my mind's and body's way to fight reality, bottling up and putting a strong stand for Zola and Bailey. I have survived the last 48 hours here. I just don't think I can keep doing it anymore. I can't be walking around, while everyone hovers around me thinking I'm going to break at any second. I know they care fore me, they are my family, and I love them. But being here is doing more harm than good. If I stay, I don't know how I'm going to survive, and I need to survive, for Zola and Bailey. They need me the most. I have to be here for them, I have to be strong for them. Being their mom is the best and only thing I can do right now, and I can;t do it here. Not when everything about being here feels like being hit by a bullet over and over again. I gather all the strength that's left in me and stand up once more. I wash my face in the bathroom sink and take a look in the mirror. The carrousel keeps spinning, but I have to do this, there is no way off. I can't let go, I can't stop swimming. I can't think "what's the point?". Not this time. I have to keep fighting. Because this time, it's not just me anymore. Two other lives depend on me and I have to fight if not for me, for them, and for Derek.

As quickly and silently as I can, I grab a suitcase and throw some of my most essential items inside. I grab another medium bag and start stocking it with some of Bailey's things. Then I lean to his crib and wake him up. He whimpers a little at first, but I coo at him. Rocking him in my arms for a bit and kissing his head. "It's alright sweetheart. Mommy's here". I adjust him against my hip as best as I can holding the bag and the suitcase handle with my other hand. Bailey clings to me, leaning his head against my chest. I let the bags go for a second and take his blanket to cover him up. Then I move to Zola's room to wake her up as well. "Zozo honey wake up" I tell her. "Put these on". I pass her a pink polka dotted jacket and some boots to thro over her pjs. While she puts her clothes on, I throw some of her things inside the bag along with Bailey's stuff and close the drawers. I turn around and see she's already got her shoes and jacket on. "Ok, you ready?" I ask her. She answers with a nod, looking confused. I make Zola follow me to the kitchen, wondering to myself if I'm not doing something incredibly stupid. I'm taking our children out of their house. After all, this is the only home they know. But then I think that there is nothing familiar about this without Derek. This isn't home without him. I have to do this for the three of us, especially because I know I can't be functional staying here, and I have to be the best I can for them. I sit Bailey on his high chair for a minute while I ask Zola to sit waiting for me and I scribble a note telling Amelia and everyone else that we're fine so that they know not to look for us when they wake up tomorrow and realize we're gone.

I leave the note in a visible corner of the counter and take Bailey back in my arms. I juggle with the bags as I grab the keys and head to the doorstep, taking a final look at the house. I can only hope I'm doing the right thing. Once again, I take another deep breath and turn around to exit the house. I put the bags inside the car and adjust Bailey to his car seat. Then I come back to lock the door and take Zola with me. I pick up my handbag and see she's looking inside the house through the door frame. The same expression in her face as I had about 30 years ago when my mother took me to Boston with her. "Where are we going?" she asks, forcing me to snap from the memory. She looks at me expectant and innocently, but I know her eyes hide worry and sadness. I know because I know her, she's my daughter. And I know because for the longest time, that was the expression behind my eyes too. But there's something else to think about now. Her question makes me realize I don't really know where we're going. I packed very few things, enough for a couple of days. I had all our documents with me, cash and credit cards. But I didn't think of anything past the stage of leaving the house. I know this is temporary. We are not leaving for good. But we won't be back too soon either. I need to figure out a plan quickly. I try to hide my uncertainty while answering and tell her: "Away sweetie. We're going away." I look at her hoping she won't ask anything else. Thankfully she doesn't. But she doesn't follow me to the car right away. She's still standing there, holding her doll and looking inside the house, as if she were saying goodbye. My heart breaks when I look at her, but this is something we need to do. "Come on sweetheart, let's go." Zola doesn't say anything this time, she just takes my hand and follows me into the car.

I get inside the car, and hold the wheel for a few seconds as I lean back against the seat and take yet another deep breath. When I turn around to check on the kids, I see that both Zola and Bailey have managed to fall asleep again. I've never felt so scared and lonely in my entire life. I'm leaving home alone with two small children, and I don't know where to go. Tears start streaming down my face again. I can't control them this time, nor do I try to. I start driving away and look back through the rear-view, taking a last glance at the place that was my home. I still remember the empty land, the night I realized I didn't want to lose Derek and built the house of candles. It all looked so bright back then. The candles burning, lighting up the land that would become our dream house one day not too far from then. It all went dark when the candles wore off. But it didn't matter because Derek was back by then, and we were losing ourselves in each other inside his trailer. This time, the land and the house look just as dark. The difference is that Derek is not coming back. I can hear Zola and Bailey's even breathing, soundly asleep. I keep driving and look back to the horizon, the lights that lead to the highway approaching. I don't know where we're going yet. All I know is we're going anywhere but here.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I would very much appreciate it if you left reviews to know what you think, feel and/or suggest. I will update as soon as possible, but can't promise a fixed schedule. Hopefully I'll get to post a new chapter every week or week and a half.

Love,

M.