Chapter One

"Meredith Grey, child of darkness, you've just spent eight years finishing a seven-year residency. What are you going to do next?"

"Shut up, Cristina." Meredith scrawled her name on the last chart she would sign as a surgical resident at Seattle Grace and glared at her best friend. She swept the chart off the nurses' station desk and began to charge down the hall to deposit it back into the slot next to her patient's door.

Cristina's grin was more manic than it'd been the morning Meredith had been supposed to get married, almost four years earlier. "Oh, but Meredith, you'll have so much fun."

"I hate you," she called over her shoulder before she ducked into the resident's locker room for the last time.

Cristina smirked, pulling at the hem of her navy blue scrubs tauntingly. "You love me."

Meredith shook her head, wishing it wasn't true, but knowing it always would be. In the end they were the last ones standing. Alex had taken a fellowship in Iowa to be closer to his sister. Between the time Meredith had taken off—liver donating, suspension, maternity—and the requirements of a neurosurgery residency, she would be the last to cross the finish line.

"And what would my mother think of that?" she asked herself, trading her scrub pants for the jeans she'd wear for the drive home. "Or about this trip?" The questions came instinctually, but she found she didn't really give a damn about the answer.

Some days it felt strange to drive the car toward the ferry dock rather than heading straight for Queen Anne's Hill. They'd sold the house almost three and a half years ago, but the countless treks back and forth, usually with a car full of doctors, seemed to be etched into her very being. Even now the car felt too quiet, and she turned on the stereo for a little noise.

"Under da sea! Under da sea! Darling, it's better, down where it's wetter…."

Meredith swore aloud, glanced apologetically into the empty backseat and turned off the radio. Why in the name of all things holy had she allowed Izzie to give Zola a birthday present without clearing it with them first?

Because her friend had lulled her into complacency with years of knitted sweaters and picture books. Then, on Zola's third birthday, Meredith had watched in horror while a flood of Disney movies had poured out of Izzie's carefully wrapped box.

"They're not the 'helpless girl is saved by the prince' ones," Izzie had said in response to Meredith's glare.

And maybe she could have done worse than Beauty and the Beast, Toy Story, Alice in Wonderland, Mary Poppins, The Lion King and Mulan, but it hadn't stopped there. Meredith had bought Pete's Dragon when they rereleased it—oh how familiar she would soon become with the notion of the Disney Vault—but it'd been Derek who'd caved on the princess issue.

"It's not like these are the only role model she has," he'd said with a very chagrined expression the day Meredith had walked in the door to hear "Someday My Prince Will Come" wafting through the house.

She'd pretended to be mad, and there had been more than one conversation about all the things girls could do—which for a four-year-old often lapsed into wondering why she couldn't be Superman, but hey, could be worse—and…well…Meredith hadn't believed in happy endings and she'd gotten one in spite of it. To tell Zola they didn't exist would be hypocritical at best. So she put up with the endless repetitions of "Be Our Guest!" and "Hakuna Matata." But she had her limits.

Or so she'd thought.

The silent ride home seemed to take longer than her usual commute, and the sun had begun to set over Elliot Bay by the time she pulled the car off the ferry and began navigating the winding roads home. Derek had taken the day off to prepare. There had been a time when they would have celebrated this ending with a bottle of champagne somewhere on the edge of the property.

This would be decidedly different.

The silence of her evening ended the second she shut the front door.

"Mommy!"

"Whoa, careful Zo!" She caught Zola, who had flung herself, forearm crutches and all, down the last three steps on the foyer staircase, trusting Meredith to catch her. "Have you been helping Daddy pack?" She settled the girl on her hip, and started up the steps. The metal of the purple crutches hit her leg with each step, but she'd gotten used to this, along with so many other things.

"We can't take Tony," Zola said matter-of-factly. "He won't fit in my suitcase."

"Oh, I think he might. If you didn't take any clothes."

"Do not suggest that," Derek flew out of Zola's room, arms raised in front of his face. "She'll come in here and dump out this suitcase, and I have finally managed to close it."

"I could be nakee," Zola agreed, putting a finger on her bottom lip.

While Derek put a hand over his mouth, probably hiding a smile to go with the look in his eyes that told Meredith plainly that the thought running through his head was Is there any doubt she's yours, Mer?

"I don't think they'll allow that, Zo," she said. "You can tell Tony all about it later, okay? And you're taking Frog."

"Okay." Zola agreed. "Can I tell Tony bye?"

"Sure." Meredith set her on the ground, steadying her until she got her bearings. "All that over a stuffed tiger?"

Derek kissed her cheek. "You think that was bad? I thought we'd have to bring Strummer, she was so against leaving him at Mark's."

"Well, he definitely wouldn't fit in her suitcase. Mine, on the other hand…."

Derek embraced her and kissed her solidly on the mouth, probably to shut her up more than anything. "How was your last day of being a resident?"

"Uneventful. Almost anticlimactic. I kept expecting some huge disaster to come swooping in."

"Expecting, or hoping for?" He pressed his forehead to hers. "I know this isn't something you ever thought about doing, but—."

"Derek, stop. I would never hope for anything that would make her unhappy. You know that."

"I do," he agreed. "Can you help her put on her pajamas while I load the stuff into my car?"

"You got it all packed?"

"I did stay here all day to do that."

"Well, yes, but…" But you're very easily distracted by 'Daddy, read to me.' 'Daddy, can we color?' Sometimes she thought Derek still felt he had to make up for the time Meredith had spent on her own with Zola, while the aftermath of the clinical trial fiasco played out.

"But nothing. I got it done, and you got your residency done. A pretty good day, don't you think?" He kissed her again, on the tip of the nose, and she giggled. The lightness she felt surprised her. She'd made it through her residency. She could make it through anything.

Right?

They loaded four suitcases, three carry-on bags and Zola's wheelchair into the back of the van. By the time she'd been strapped into her car seat, she was yawning, which was not actually a very good sign, because they still had to park the car, go through airport security and board the plane before she could sleep. In a desperate attempt to keep her awake, Meredith plugged the mp3 player they used for Zola's music into Derek's stereo and clicked it on.

By the time they got to the Sea-Tac airport, Zola had become a writhing ball of excitement, and Meredith wondered if they'd ever get her to calm down again. "Will Grandma be there when we get there?" she asked while Meredith slung one of the carry-on straps across the handles of the wheelchair, the other across her body and dumped the third on top of the suitcases Derek had plunked on a luggage cart.

"Yup."

"And she'll be so excited to see me?"

"Well, she did just see you last month. So she might not be as excited." Meredith winced a little at the memory of Mrs. Shepherd's last trip to Seattle. She hadn't taken too well to their hectic lifestyle—hospital, day care, Zola's therapies, all in a whirl of constant movement—and Meredith had gotten tired of being mentally compared to the three put together daughters (thank God for the train wreck that was Amelia, or she'd really be at the bottom of the pile).

Zola dismissed the reminder with one wave of her hand. "That doesn't make a matter. She'll be excited. I'm really super excited." She said it almost pragmatically, while she bounced in her seat. "Are you really super excited Mommy?"

"Yeah, Mer," Derek said, glancing over his shoulder as he lead the way to the baggage check-in. "Are you really super excited?"

Over her daughter's head, Meredith stuck her tongue out at Derek.

"She is." Zola tilted her head back to see Meredith's face, and Meredith found she didn't have to force a smile. "I absolutely know it. And Grandma is really super excited, and Daddy is really super excited. That means it's going to be the bestest trip ever!" Zola grinned, revealing two perfect rows of baby teeth. With all the distractions of hefting the suitcases onto a scale and reminding her daughter that they'd see them in a few hours—separation anxiety, still her greatest flaw—Meredith still had time to wonder how time had passed so quickly. Hadn't she just been there to help soothe the pain of those teeth coming in?

"It's official," Derek muttered in Meredith's ear while he tugged off Zola's shoes a minute later.

"TSA agents flinch when they see us coming."

"At least I can carry her through," she responded, dropping Zola's crutches onto the x-ray machine. "This amount of metal will not make things fun once she gets bigger. I don't guess we could convince your mom and sisters to move to Seattle to stop the constant plane trips?"

"Meredith," he said, lifting Zola up so she could settle in Meredith's arms. "Do you seriously want my family out here?"

"Derek," she replied, just as seriously. "Your family is here." Then she stepped through the metal detector to wait for him on the other side.

The constant questions and rehashing of all her plans for their trip wore Zola out right before boarding, and by the time Meredith had stowed all their baggage her eyes were flickering shut. True to her nature, she fought sleep, widening her bright eyes more every time they drifted shut.

"Hey, Zo?" Meredith said, settling in next to her, with Derek on the other side.

"Yes, Mommy?"

"I am really super excited."

Zola gave her a sleepy smile and nodded. A second later she fell asleep, like those words had been the confirmation she needed to allow herself to drift off. Derek went out like a light once the wheels were up, but too often a flight had meant a complete life change for Meredith, and she'd been conditioned to fret instead of sleep. This time, though, the combination of her final day as a Seattle Grace resident and the stress of getting them all on the plane on time caught up to her. She slept and didn't wake up again until the flight attendant came around with morning coffee.

Meredith declined for herself and for a still conked out Derek. A few of Zola's braids had fallen into her face as she slept. Meredith brushed them away, briefly remembering the long summer afternoon Bailey had spent teaching her to transform the dexterity born of being a surgeon into weaving her daughter's hair into a braid to keep it from tangling. Though she'd never taken much time to style her own hair, she'd been surprised at her own adeptness.

Bailey, as usual, had summed the experience up perfectly. "Grey, haven't you ever noticed how willing you are to learn whatever you need to do to help people? You've invented entirely new ways of helping people, and braiding is an art that goes back centuries. Of course you can get a handle on it."

Meredith hadn't exactly believed her then, back when Zola had still been new, and every day brought a huge unknown into her life. Now the unknowns hadn't stopped, but she'd learned to accept them. She'd mastered the art of understanding Zola's challenges, and finding the resources to help her overcome them. She'd scheduled therapies, ordered adaptive devices and could recite most of Zola's picture-books as easily as she could rattle off the procedure for treating head trauma.

Of course, she'd always known she could work by the book. She may never have had Lexie's photographic memory, but she had a good one. What she'd been worried about was instinct—the mothering one. But as the sunrise flooded the plane, and Zola's eyes lit up at the voice over the loudspeaker, she knew. She'd learned how to be a mother who loved her daughter. It hadn't been hard at all.

"Ladies and gentlemen…"

So maybe.

"We will soon be landing at…"

Just maybe.

"Orlando International Airport."

She could learn to love this too.

As she had this thought, Zola's excitement from the night before reappeared, triple-fold. Maybe she had Meredith's own tendency to disbelieve something would come until it did, or maybe it was the fact that she woke up every morning ready to inject the day with sunshine—dear God, when had Meredith started thinking this way?—but whatever the cause, she clapped her hands and squealed, "Disney World! Disney World! Disney World!"

And Meredith knew she'd grown, because instead of filling her with dread this display made her smile, even while the few businessmen around them in first class made "I'm tolerating this, but really, must she?" faces.

She, Meredith Grey, child of darkness, had somehow managed to get really super excited about going to Disney World.

No wonder Cristina despaired of her.