Meredith sat slumped forward on the cold tile floor in the handicap stall of the bathroom, her forehead resting heavily in her hand. She was so tired. Her whole body felt heavy and achy and broken. He always left her like this. The more he loved her, the more she pulled away and the more empty she felt.

I want to marry you. I want have kids with you. She wanted too. She wanted him. I want to build us a house. I want to settle down and grow old with you. She wanted. But she didn't know how to ask. I want to die when I'm a hundred and ten years old in your arms. She wanted that too. When it was dark and she couldn't see. I don't want forty-eight, uninterrupted hours. I want a lifetime. She could want that too. Someday. She could. Maybe…

That word lifetime was what got her. What made her limbs gravitate away from him instead of towards him. Lifetime. Forever. It scared her. It always had. She had a good reason. A whole list of good reasons. An entire fucking book of fantastic reasons why she should be so messed up. So dark and twisty. So scared. And he knew. He knew all the reasons, but she knew he was tired too. Maybe just as tired as she was.

This was the way it was with them. The push and pull. The whispered words of love at night when it was dark and the measured gazes the next day when it was light. She didn't know how to be with him except when it was dark. When his arms were wrapped around her and his body against hers was all there was. But then, inevitably, the day would come and she would pull away, putting the distance between them that would keep her safe until night.

For the past two weeks, that word—lifetime—was all she had thought about. It was always there, echoing faintly in the back of her mind. But when she was near him, it came roaring back to the forefront. Every word out of his mouth resonated the same way with her. Lifetime. Forever. She could want that too. She could get ready.

But it looked as if the universe was not going to give her that option.

From where she sat on the floor, she could just see the edge of the pregnancy test, hanging off the edge of the toilet. She knew she should look at it, but somehow it just seemed easier to sit on the floor and stare at the puke-colored walls of the stall that boxed her in. At first she had an excuse. She box had told her to wait three minutes before reading the results, but that time had elapsed around fifteen minutes ago and now she was just waiting. For nothing. For everything. For him.

She knew it would be positive. She just did. She could feel the changes in her body. The exhaustion she felt was a different kind than the kind she felt after a forty-eight hour shift. It reached her bones. It reached everywhere. It was inescapable. Just like the test that was balanced precariously on the edge of the toilet, less than five feet away. If she blew on it, maybe it would fall and disappear. Maybe she wanted it to.

With a sigh, Meredith lifted herself off the floor. As she reached her full height a sudden dizziness washed over her and she reached out to steady herself. She pressed her palm to the puke-colored wall and leaned. She suddenly wanted him very badly. And not in the desperate way she was used to when clothes were being torn from bodies and mouths were meeting in sloppy kisses. This was different. The want throbbed in her chest and made her draw in a shaky breath. She wanted too. She wanted him.

She took a step forward and reached out, gripping the test and bringing it closer to her face. She squinted and peered at it. But no matter how much she scrunched up her face, those two pinks lines refused to disappear.

xxx

He watched her walk out of the bathroom and stop abruptly in the middle of the hall. He watched her squeeze her eyes shut and realized she was on the verge of crying. He watched her bow her head, tuck something into the pocket of her lab coat and then walk down the hallway. Then he followed her.

"Dr. Grey!" he called and hated the way it sounded. He never called her Meredith in the hospital anymore. But he had to force himself not to. It didn't sound right. He loved her name. He loved the way it felt on his tongue. It was soft and beautiful. Like her. It should never be Dr. Grey. Always Meredith. It should always be soft with them, never hard. "Dr. Grey," he said again as he caught up with her.

She turned towards him and the sadness he had seen on her face when she walked out of the bathroom was gone. Bottled up so he wouldn't see it. "Dr. Shepherd," she said. When he didn't say anything more, she raised her eyebrows at him. He was the one who stopped her in the middle of the hallway. "Do you need something?" she asked.

He winced inwardly. Do you need something? Like she was his intern and he was her boss. Do you need something? Yes. You. Always you. Never anyone else. "I was just, uh…" he trailed off and searched her eyes. Her eyes. He loved her eyes. He loved the way they darkened when her clothes were scattered at his feet and he was whispering exactly what he was going to do to her. He loved the way they would twinkle with an equal amount of amusement and love when he poured himself yet another bowl of Muesli. He loved when they softened and she looked at him with that openness that he never saw anymore except after sex. She used to look at him like that all the time. Now they were empty. She wouldn't give him anything.

He realized she had begun to back away from him and he suddenly couldn't bear the thought of her leaving. "Listen, if you don't need me…"

"No!" His voice was an instant contradiction. "No, I need you." I need you. She looked confused when he didn't say more. They didn't do this anymore. "I, uh…Mr. Thomson in room 1243 needs to be prepped for a craniotomy."

She nodded, the confusion gone, and turned away from him. He didn't move even as she walked further down the hall. Only when she had turned the corner, did he slowly begin walking again.

xxx

Once Mr. Thomson was prepped, the nurses began to wheel him towards the OR, but Meredith lagged behind. She stood in the doorway, her hand in pocket, her fingers running over the test.

Meredith had figured out pretty early on in their relationship that Derek would be a good father. She knew that innate gentleness that she loved so much about him would translate well into raising kids. If they ever had any. The future had seemed so hopeful and far off back then. Before the wife. Before the rest of it. When she still trusted him with her whole heart.

As she stood there, she lifted her hand out of her pocket and placed it on her stomach very carefully. It was an odd feeling, knowing that there was another human being growing inside her. But it was also strangely wonderful. She wished she could tell him this. But he was so far away.

"Dr. Grey?"

She abruptly dropped her hand to her side as if she had been caught doing something wrong. Derek was standing in front of her, looking at her with a concerned expression. "Is the patient prepped?" he asked with far more gentleness than the question merited.

"Yes," she said and the word came out slightly shaky.

He nodded but didn't move. He was less than an arm's length away. She could smell his comforting, Derek smell. She held his gaze tentatively at first and then with barely concealed longing. His eyes were very bright and very blue. She could fall into them. Maybe she already was. His gaze was so full of everything they ever said to each other. She wondered if her eyes looked like that. She hoped they didn't, but thought maybe they did.

He was asking her if she was okay in his own silent way and she wanted to let him know she was. She didn't want him to worry about her. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something to let him know she was fine, but instead she said, "We should go."

He nodded and his expression was so heartbroken that she made herself walk away from him so she wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

xxx

Meredith was already standing in the scrub room when Derek walked in after the surgery. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he turned on the water and began running his hands under the stream. "Good job today," he said softly.

She turned towards him. "Thanks," she said, her voice so soft that he barely caught it over the roar of the water hitting the bottom of the sink.

They finished at the same time and turned off the tap. The silence was deafening. She grabbed a handful of towels and handed a few to him. He nodded his thanks and slowly began drying his hands, rubbing the rough paper over his fingers.

She found her gaze being drawn to his hands as they twisted around the paper towel. He had the most amazing hands. They could do the most amazing things to her body. She quickly recognized the desire as it curled in her stomach. She wanted. And this was a want she understood.

She finished drying her hands and tossed the towels in the trash. She began moving towards the door. When she passed him, she moved so close to him that he could feel the wind created by her body. He lifted his head as she passed and caught her gaze. He knew the look on her face well. Meredith wanted.

She knew he would follow her as she walked down the hall and slipped into the first on call room that she passed. She knew he would take any part of herself that she would offer. She heard the thud of the door closing and the click of the lock. It was night outside and dark in the room. She couldn't see anything and that made it safe.

He could hear her breathing. He could barely make out the outline of her face from where he stood. "Meredith," he murmured, his voice low. He reached out a hand towards her and she moved closer. Close enough so that he could wrap his arm around her waist and draw her into his body. He waited for the feel of her fingers gripping the edge of his shirt. He waited for the hard, urgent kisses that left no room for argument.

But they never came.

Instead, she simply leaned against him, resting her head in the very center of his chest. He was so surprised that it took him a second to figure out how to hold her. He was out of practice. It had been a long time since she had asked him to hold her for the sake of being held. He missed it, and it didn't take him long before he remembered to wrap his arms around her.

As his arms found their way around her, she leaned more heavily against him until he was supporting her entire body weight. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She closed her eyes. "No," she whispered. In the dark, she could say things like this and pretend she was telling no one but the blackness.

"Okay," he said, turning his lips into her hair and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She drew in a shaky breath. He drew her closer until their bodies were pressed together. Until her stomach was pressed against his. She tried not to think of the life caught between him. It made things complicated. She didn't need complicated. She had complicated all by herself.

She didn't realize she was crying until she felt the dampness from her cheek seeping into his scrub shirt. He dipped his head and pressed his lips against the wet streak that ran its way down her cheek. "Mer," he murmured. He was sad. Sad for her. She didn't want him to be.

She shook her head. "It's fine," she mumbled. She angled her mouth upwards until it met his, but he didn't kiss her the way he was supposed to kiss her. He kissed her gently as if he was afraid she would break. She hated it. She wanted to feel the firm pressure of his lips against hers, of his thighs against hers, of his body against hers. She pressed closer, grinding her hips against his, until he kissed her with the urgency that she craved. She trailed her fingers down his chest until they met the edge of the shirt. She gripped it firmly and tugged it away from his body. As she tossed the shirt to the ground, he shifted his lips away from her lips to her neck.

"Derek," she whimpered as he slipped his hands underneath her scrub top and moved them across her back. She wanted him to take it off. She didn't want there to be anything between them. As if reading her mind, he began to peel the cloth away from her skin, up and over her head.

He pulled her against him again and she sighed her approval at the feel of his heated skin against hers. As if moving with one accord, they tumbled backwards until her knees met the edge of the bed and she fell away from him, landing against the sheets. She could feel his gaze on her body as he stood above her. She could feel his hands as he reached down to untie her scrub pants. She tried not to shiver when his fingers brushed her stomach. She heard his own pants join the pile on the floor and then he was right there next to her, his body a welcome and protective weight over hers.

She tried to remember everything he did. These moments were all she had of him. She didn't want to miss anything.

xxx

Meredith watched as his eyes drifted shut. His body relaxed into sleep, but his grip around her didn't. He held her just as close as ever, his body wrapped around hers, her face tucked against his chest. They called it break up sex, but it was just something they called it. He still held her like he loved her with his whole heart and she still let him.

She stayed awake even after she thought he had fallen asleep. "Derek?" she whispered, lifting her hand to his cheek. He stirred slightly but didn't answer. She dropped her hand away from his face. "I miss you," she told him.

So there it is. The first chapter of my first story. I know it's super angsty, but I promise it will get better. I hope everyone liked it!!

PLEASE REVIEW!!