A/N: Like I said in my note in Tomorrow, the plot bunnies have bred like crazy.

In my Grey's Anatomy re-watch 2k16, I just finished ep 3.20 Desire. I had to pause Netflix to write this. Maybe it'll continue, maybe not, who the hell knows at this point with what my brain keeps coming up with.

Anyway, I don't really know what to say about this. Blame the plot bunnies.

Enjoy.

Hearts always, A.

"That day. You came out of the water. I spent the scariest hour of my life trying to breathe for you. I love you and I want you, but I don't know what… You didn't swim. You didn't swim and you know how to and I don't know if I can… I don't know if I want to keep trying to breathe for you."

As Derek's voice trails off into silence, Meredith feels her throat start to close up and terror set in.

She can hear the exhaustion bleeding into every word and knows that she's the one who put it there. And that he's right, partially. And it kills her, triggering all sorts of her lingering abandonment issues and commitment issues to rise back up and send her fleeing.

"I should go," Meredith murmurs, heart pounding in her throat and fighting the urge to run as fast and as far as she can. She can feel tears start to prickle in the corner of her eyes but she battles them back, the panic and fear that's swamped her as soon as Derek started talking about the water overwhelming most of her senses. For a moment, she hesitates, staring at the face of the man she loves with all she has, the man she came back from the dead for, waiting and hoping for him to say something.

Anything.

Ask her to stay. Agree with her. Say something to break the cruel silence he's left her hanging in.

Instead, his head twitches, almost as though he's nodding to himself, and remains silent, staring at the ceiling.

The lack of reaction hurts more than Meredith is capable of putting into words.

"I'll go," she whispers, lurching into motion and sliding free from the warm covers. Cold air dances cold fingers over her skin, but is nothing in comparison to the sliver of ice that's lodged herself into her heart.

It reminds her all too much of when it felt as though her chest was going to explode with Denny, Bonnie and Elizabeth staring on, unable to help her.

She refuses to look in Derek's direction as she scrambles into her discarded clothing, in so much of a rush to escape the confines of the trailer that suddenly feel choking, that she gives up on finding her bra after mere seconds of searching. She shrugs her way into her shirt and does only a few buttons with shaking hands, before wiggling into her underwear and pants. Ignoring her socks in favor of simply stuffing her feet into her shoes, she hates the relief that floods her when she beelines towards the door.

Snatching her jacket and keys in one hand, she opens to door to the trailer and halts. The pressure in her throat has morphed into words and they need to be let loose before they rip her apart from the inside.

"You're wrong," Meredith says clearly, hearing Derek sit up in bed to peer at her in confusion. She takes a small step backwards into the trailer to meet his weighted gaze. And the words fly free.

"About that day. I did swim. I fought. I got to the surface. I started to look for a way out, for anyone to help me. But the water is so cold that I can't breath. It feels like my body isn't my own any more. And for a second, I think. Just a second. What's the point? And then I don't have any more fight left in me," here, Meredith takes a quick gasp of air, trying to push back the heaviness settling on her chest. In her minds eye, everything starts to replay again before her, pulling her in and making it near impossible to discern past from present. She can hear Derek start to shift in the bed as if to get up, but she barrels onwards, desperate to get the words out so she can leave.

"And then I am dead, trapped in the hospital, the hospital that I go back to every single day, confused and cold and lost. And Denny and Dylan, Bonnie and Elizabeth are all there, saying I called them, that I don't have a lot of time. They keep trying to talk to me about the water, but I can't, I can't think about the cold and the pain. I don't want to think about the cold because if I do, it'll find me and trap me. And Bonnie keeps bleeding out and I can't save her, I just want to save her, and Denny is saying all these things about how my death will destroy you and my friends and I can't breathe."

By now, Derek has left the bed behind and pulled on sweats, approaching slowly with tears mirroring hers in his eyes. But his face, the combination of shock and utter desolation is nearly her unraveling.

"Then Denny is telling me about how all I would get if I stay here, where, even though I can't breathe, there is no longer a point, that all I would get would be a sliver of you, of Christina. And the water is close to catching me. And then I see my mother," exhaling in a powerful huff, Meredith looks away from Derek before she breaks and tightens her grip on the door nob.

"So. You're wrong. I fought. I fought harder than you can possibly imagine. I died. I drowned. And then I fought like hell to come back. But I don't know if all of me did. And you won't look at me. I'm trying to fix all the broken bits, not only for me, but you too. Stop trying to breathe for me and let me do it myself."

As soon as the last word leaves her mouth and the pressure building within her becomes nearly unbearable, Meredith swings open the door and bolts.

She makes at far as her car door, hands shaking so badly that she drops her keys onto the dirt. A muffled sob gets caught in her throat as she follows the small objects to the ground, landing with a thud on her knees. Clutching them tightly in her grip, Meredith twists so she's sitting against her car, bringing her knees to her chest and burrowing her head in them. The sobs build, the dam finally bursting, the dam she crafted so carefully to be impenetrable being torn to shreds by the flood of emotions and memories she wanted nothing more than to suppress.

Distantly, she hears the door slam open and Derek calling out to her, but she can't respond. In fact, she can hardly draw a breath, sucking air in desperately from between clenched teeth.

She doesn't resist when Derek scoops her up in his arms, mumbling a mixture of apologies and words of comfort into her ear. She can't react when he carries her inside and sets her gently, reverently, onto the bed. She won't uncurl from the protective ball she's found herself in when Derek settles her into the crook of his arm, all the while trying valiantly to pull her out of the haze with his voice.

Instead, she closes her eyes. And tries to rebuild the wall.