A/N: So here's the thing...when I wrote this, it was as a one-shot. Seriously. Buuuuut...since I've gotten a few people asking for a continuation, I'm writing a couple of chapters from other characters' points of view. Thanks so much to those who reviewed, and an advanced thank you for those of you who WILL review... :nudge nudge wink wink:

I don't own Grey's Anatomy, nor do I own any of the characters. If I did, both Patrick Dempsey and Chris O' Donnell would both be under lock and key in my bedroom…wink wink. Enjoy, and please review!

Derek couldn't sleep.

It had been exactly four hours and twenty minutes since he had walked through the doors of Seattle Grace and across the street to Joe's bar. Two hours and twelve minutes since he had clumsily stumbled through the door to his trailer home and immediately gone to the refrigerator, downing his ninth beer for the evening. An hour and forty-five minutes since he had crawled into bed, not bothering to respond to Addison's sleepy interrogation as to where he'd been.

Derek couldn't sleep.

Somewhere outside, crickets were chirping. The moonlight glowed brightly, its rays blocked by the thick curtains framing the windows. The clock on the nightstand read 3:26 am.

Derek couldn't sleep. He couldn't close his eyes. Every time his eyelids shut, he would flash back to those hellish minutes in the stairwell.

You don't get to call me a whore.

His face hadn't changed since the night that he walked into Dr. Dandridge's apartment to find her there, fresh out of the shower and wrapped up in nothing more than that damned vet's shirt. Something inside of him flared up right then and there, and he'd been hiding it behind a stony, impenetrable countenance ever since. He'd tried to push past it, sweeping Addison into the shower when he got home that night and fucking the pain away, pretending that it was making love and attempting to lose himself in the life that he chose. The life that he'd had before he ever met Meredith Grey, with a perfect job, perfect wife...everything just the way it was before.

Why did it all feel so wrong?

When I met you, I thought I had found the person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

Why the fuck couldn't he get her out of his head? Every time he saw Doc, he'd remember how they used to walk him together in the mornings; how she'd crouch down to rub behind the dog's ears and glance up at Derek, flashing that brilliant smile of hers. Every time he took the elevator at Seattle Grace, his pulse would speed up as he recalled the day that she'd shoved him against the wall and captured his mouth in hers.

When he drove past the ferryboats on the way to work in the morning, he thought of her. When he poured his cereal in the morning he'd recall the mornings he spent at her house after a night of lovemaking, eating breakfast with the other interns. When he caught even the faintest hint of lavender on the air, he'd immediately search the area for that blond hair and hazel eyes.

It's unforgivable.

He hated her for being everywhere he was, anywhere he was, all the time. He hated her for filling his mind with her face, her wry smile, her pithy remarks. He hated her for seeping into every part of his being, for pervading every single thought that entered his head. He hated her for sleeping with George, for sleeping with Finn Dandridge, for winking at men at Joe's when they bought her drinks. He hated her for letting any man that wasn't him touch her intimately, kiss her lips, hear her sigh and mewl with pleasure and passion.

He hated her for moving on…when it was obvious that he hadn't.

I don't remember ever asking you to forgive me.

He had gone straight to Joe's after his shift was over, sliding into a bar stool and ordering beer after beer after beer. He wanted to drain her out of his system, to forget the way her eyes had shined with hatred and hurt and tears in that stairwell. He tried to forget the way her voice had cracked while she blamed him for breaking her into a million little pieces.

It is done.

The clock on the nightstand read 4:49 am. The only sound that could be heard was Addison's slow and steady breathing, and the chirping of the crickets outside of the trailer window.

Derek lay perfectly still, eyes wide open and focused on the dark ceiling. In his head, he thought he heard Meredith laughing, happy…and when Finn's laughter joined hers, Derek's jaw clenched and his eyes threatened to release the emotion he refused to let show on his face.

This thing with us is finished. It's over.

Finally.

Derek couldn't sleep.