A/N: Hello everyone! First off, I'd like to apologize to you all-it turns out I published this story a little prematurely, because as soon as I did, my life kind of exploded and my writing time got extremely neglected. I still don't really have a lot of spare time, but you all have been amazing readers (and I can't get this idea out of my head), so I'm definitely going to continue this story. (It just might not be published as quickly as my last one was haha). Anyway, here is chapter 2 for you, and thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Derek
May 2009
Just after dawn, the smell of the cherry blossoms that blanketed every other tree Derek Shepherd ran past filled the air. Almost three years after moving to Seattle and purchasing more land than he could even imagine as a Manhattanite, Derek still slept in the small silver trailer that sat just at the edge of a meadow, surrounded by massive evergreen trees.
The sound of his shoes against the gravel path felt so familiar; despite having explored it so many times with Meredith-and, once upon a time, with Doc-over the past two years it had become his sanctuary. A place for him to be alone and practice ignoring the thoughts that still threatened to swallow him whole every day.
A salty breeze began to blow off of the Sound, contrasting the sweet fruity scent and filling Derek's mind with memories of the night before he moved to the West Coast.
Carrie had worn her favorite maroon leather jacket, a 15th birthday present from Derek's most complicated sister but Carrie's favorite aunt, Amelia. Derek remembered seeing the dimpled smile on her face the moment he walked into his office post-five hour surgery; the same dimpled smile that would greet him at the door the second he got home from a 36-hour shift during residency all those years ago.
Since the day she was born, Derek had felt a stronger connection to his daughter than anyone else in the world; a connection that went far beyond the unconditional love that exists between parent and child.
When Derek first laid eyes on his daughter, it had been like watching his own heart beat outside of his chest. It was as if in the span of about five minutes-from the moment he first saw her to when she was placed in his arms-everything in his life made sense. His mother bending over backwards to provide a life for their family, and his own father giving up his life to protect him and Amy. Carrie had been but five minutes old, and already he knew he would do absolutely anything to keep her safe.
...if only that had been possible.
...if only their family hadn't fallen apart.
...if only running through the scent of salt water and cherry blossoms could make him forget.
June 2006
It was a particularly cold and rainy night for June, but Derek so rarely left the hospital these days that the weather was hardly ever on his radar anymore.
Carrie was in the passenger seat next to him, trying to keep him awake as he drove them home in the dark by telling him about a four-year-old in her swim class who finally managed to let go of the side today. He glanced at the clock on the dash—it was nearing midnight.
"Dad?" Carrie said, startling him as they sat at a red light.
"What, sorry?" Derek replied, blinking a few times, snapping out of it.
"I asked if you wanted to go running with me tomorrow morning," Carrie repeated. "Jason's going to a summer orientation up at MIT and it's been awhile since you and I ran together…"
Right then, at that moment, Derek didn't have the heart to tell his daughter that he'd scheduled another surgery for 7am. Especially since five-mile runs through the park had been something he and Carrie had started doing together when she was 12.
"Oh, uh, sure honey," he said quickly. "Sure thing."
He hated himself for hoping she would forget.
By the time they pulled up in front of the house, the wind was howling, pushing the branches angrily against the second story window. The Shepherds had lived in the Upper East Side brownstone for almost 17 years now; from their post-wedding 'honeymoon phase,' to discovering Addison was pregnant with Carrie, to graduating medical school, to Carrie's first steps and first words, to becoming successful surgeons…this house had bore witness to the many milestones of a happy family.
But Derek didn't think about this much anymore, because if he did that would mean coming to terms with the fact that he hadn't felt connected to his wife—both physically and mentally—in months. Blame it on being put in the running for Chief of Surgery at Mt. Sinai Hospital, blame it on Addison picking a fight whenever he worked late; either way, their marriage was not what it used to be, and they both knew it.
Their 15-year-old daughter knew it too.
Securing his jacket, Derek looked over at Carrie after closing the car door. Despite the rain, she stood on the sidewalk, huddled, waiting for him to walk with her to the door. At that moment he felt a surge of love for his daughter, the one thing in his life that had always been good.
"I love you, Bear," he muttered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing her forehead. Carrie leaned against his chest to further shield herself from the storm. Although she didn't respond verbally, Derek knew.
He always had.
"I'm gonna make some tea before heading up," Carrie said, mid-yawn, upon entering the house. "You want any?"
But, once again, Derek was hardly listening because as soon as he stepped through the front door, a very specific object caught his eye. Unfamiliar, yet so familiar he could recite the age and brand by heart. He wished, oh how he wished he could look away.
Most of all, he wished he could shield Carrie from what he knew in his gut was about to happen.
"Sure, sweetheart," he said, in response to her question.
"Okay," she nodded, before turning on her heel and heading into the kitchen.
Derek swallowed the lump in his throat, wishing with all his might that there were a door shutting off the kitchen from the rest of the house, or world for that matter. One foot in front of the other, he walked up the stairs. With each step, he thought about how he might describe this moment in the future.
One night, I parked my car. I unlock my front door, go inside my house with my daughter, and something's different. Nothing's different, everything's the same but yet, still, something's different. And I stand there for a while, and then I know.
See, there are moments for me; you know, usually when I'm in the OR, when I just know what's gonna happen next. So I go upstairs. I see a man's jacket that doesn't belong to me hanging on the post at the bottom of the stairs, and everything I think I know…just shifts; because the jacket that doesn't belong to me is a jacket I recognize.
As I'm walking down the hall, I'm trying to prepare myself for what I'm gonna see when I go into my bedroom. And what I know now is that when I go into my bedroom, I'm not just gonna see that my wife is cheating on me. I'm gonna see that my wife is cheating on me with Mark, who happened to be my best friend.
It's just so pedestrian, common and dirty, and cruel; mostly just cruel.
I left—came out here.
And I met you.
Life moved in slow motion after that night. The night that not only included discovering his wife cheating on him with his best friend, but getting back into his car and driving until he ran out of gas.
"Derek! Derek! Listen to me! Derek, you can't do this…we have to talk about this…"
If the sound of his wife's pleading voice didn't make him want to vomit, he may have stopped to listen. But Derek could only think of one thing: removing all traces of her.
17 years he had been married to Addison Montgomery Shepherd. 17 Christmases, 17 birthdays. 17 years of feeling her smooth skin beneath his. 17 years of being bound together so tightly not just by wedding vows, but also a love that had given way to life.
"…wait. What are you doing with my clothes?!" Addison screamed. "It was one time! I know that's what people say I know that's always what gets said. It's just I don't know how it happened I don't know what I was thinking he was just here he was just here!"
It was as if the expensive fabric of Addison's clothes burned his hands as he stormed back down the stairs, opening the front door and throwing them outside, into the pouring rain.
Derek's heart pounded in his chest as he screamed at her without abandon.
"YOU SCREW MY BEST FRIEND AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS, 'HE WAS JUST HERE?!'"
Addison sobbed, huge, pathetic sobs that under any other circumstance would have broken Derek's heart. After all, this woman was the mother of his child, the love of his life. He would never lay a hand on her as she stood her ground; never just toss her out the door as if she were a piece of garbage.
Derek leaned against the door, listening to his wife sob on the other side. If it hadn't been for the thick panel of glass that separated them, their hands would be touching; their fingers would be interlocking, holding onto one another for dear life.
It was all too much for Derek.
"…you have to give me a chance to show you how sorry I am. I'm sorry, okay?"
As soon as her soft hands wrapped around him, soaked with rainwater, he felt that same burning sensation, and he couldn't stand it. He couldn't process anything except his need to get away from her.
"I'm gonna go," he said. "You stay. I'll get my clothes in the morning."
"No no no no," Addison stammered. "We can survive this, Derek we can survive this. We're…we're Addison and Derek!"
"I can't look at you," Derek swallowed. "I look at you and I feel nauseous. I just…we're not Derek and Addison anymore."
Her eyes widened in such a way that he had to look away, because if he stared long enough, those beautiful eyes would remind him of not just his cheating wife.
"If you go now, we are not going to get through this," Addison cried. "We don't have a chance, if you go now."
But Derek barely heard her for slamming the door shut behind him. He couldn't think about anything besides getting as far away as possible. He wanted to hyperventilate, cry, scream…anything. Instead, he was numb.
And yet, what he hadn't understood was that there was, in fact, a greater meaning behind Addison's words.
We don't have a chance, if you go now.
He hadn't understood that the 'we' she was referring to was not just the two of them.
He hadn't realized that if he had just looked thirty degrees to the left, he would have seen a pair of eyes identical to those he had to shield himself from hiding in the shadows. A head of long, dark hair. A pair of ears that had heard everything
If he had looked thirty degrees to the left, he would have seen that he was not the only one to have their heart broken that night.
May 2009
Derek remembered the endless hours of driving, of feeling like if he had stopped, he would have given the past enough time to catch up to him.
What he didn't realize now, amidst his early morning jog, was that even though he was mere yards away from the trailer he had lived in for the past three years, Derek Shepherd was still running away.
The following morning, there were no cherry blossoms or salty air to flood Derek's head with memories of his move to the West Coast. In fact, by the time he arrived at Seattle Grace Hospital, there wasn't even sunlight, which matched his mood perfectly.
"Oh, I asked them not to wake you," his patient sneered as he stormed into the dimly lit room, dressed entirely in black. The thought of changing into scrubs or a lab coat hadn't even crossed his mind. "I said 'whatever it is, it can wait 'til morning.' Dr. Shepherd needs his beauty sleep."
Derek sighed, not in the mood to engage with the man.
"Your latest head CT shows that the brain contusions are expanding," he muttered without looking up. According to his chart, the patient's name was William Dunn. "I'm gonna get you into the OR right away."
His patient stared at him blankly.
"This...this brain thing, it...it could kill me?"
"If we don't treat it, yes," Derek replied.
To his annoyance, the patient began to laugh.
"You find that funny?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"I'm sorry," his patient laughed. "It's just that they're gonna execute me in five days. Five days. Might as well take my chances with this brain thing, right?"
That caught Derek's attention, forcing him to look up from the chart.
"Mr. Dunn…"
"You gotta admit, it's a nice way to go. Plenty of attractive females...all the Jell-O I could want. Have you tried the strawberry? It'll change your life."
"You're refusing surgery?" Again more of a statement.
"Either way, I'm going to die, Dr. Shepherd," Mr. Dunn replied, staring off at the wall. "Might as well do it on your watch."
Breathing deeply, Derek lay down on his back on the on-call room bed. William Dunn's words played back in his head over and over, and it was all Derek could do not to scream.
Either way I'm going to die. Might as well do it on your watch.
His entire career as a doctor he had dealt with death and recognized the fine line that existed between valuing human life, and accepting something as just part of the job and moving on.
And yet he never wanted to accept it as part of the job.
Closing his eyes, Derek remembered back to his intern year, the year he decided that neurosurgery would be his specialty. Everyone at the hospital had thought that it was his wife, Addison, who was the "sensitive" one, the one who took patient deaths too personally, and the one who would come home in tears, acting out either by cradling their toddler daughter, or throwing inanimate objects against the wall. There was no in between.
But what they didn't know was that Derek too had had his fair share of punches to the wall during his residency, of thoughts that screamed what if I had only done this, what if I had suggested that treatment instead, what if, what if, what if?
Now, Derek didn't like to think about that side of him or the memories of when that side of him came out, because so many of those memories were paired with other things he didn't like to think about, and reoccurring dreams he was desperate to be rid of.
In the dream he was back in New York City, hearing the sound in the background of cars going by, of the fall leaves crunching as couples walked together through the park, and sometimes of Carrie playing with her doll Samantha. Samantha had sheer angel wings and Derek's mother had whispered to Carrie that she had magic powers and could fly.
Carrie had worn her favorite dress, a navy blue and white flowered Marc Jacobs dress that Addison had picked out for Carrie's birthday. Derek came home, so angry and frustrated that after two years, he had lost one of his very first patients to a ruthless brain tumor. He had wanted to scream, shut himself away for weeks, and forget the world.
Then, as if a higher power had intervened, the silhouette of his child appeared, who had been standing at the front room window, waiting for him to get home. Without another thought he dropped everything he had been holding onto the floor-a briefcase with patient files, mostly-and lifted Carrie into his arms. She was five, with laughing ocean blue eyes and cascades of dark auburn waves, and she slung her skinny arm around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder.
In the dream Derek would remember that he was wise, and knew there was no better life, no greater goodness, than what he already had. He held Carrie and promised nothing bad would ever happen to her, and if he could have slept forever those words would be true. Closing his eyes prolonged the vision, shielded him from the fluorescent lights of a hospital that was filled with death every single day, and enhanced the hallucination that Carrie was with him still and always.
His daughter-the one death he wished more than anything he could keep on his own watch, and he couldn't.
One day later
Of course his mother would make something as simple as an airport pick-up complicated. But that was the thing about Carolyn Shepherd; as much as Derek loved her and knew her intentions were good, she liked to meddle. She liked to have things done her way. She would do anything for the people she loved, even if it meant the exact opposite of what they asked.
"Are you in the north terminal?" Derek asked, cell phone up to his ear.
It was all he could do to keep the driver's annoyed demeanor under control, after hearing something along the lines of yes and she's not here.
"Well that's where she's supposed to be," Derek replied, pausing near the nurses' station.
The driver murmured something about leaving.
"No, no don't go anywhere," Derek said. "Just wait."
He was just about to hang up and dial his mother's cell phone when a hand touched his shoulder. Glancing over, he noticed it was exactly the woman he'd been talking about.
"Never mind," he sighed into the phone. "I found her."
Carolyn raised an eyebrow.
"You know there's a town car waiting for you at the airport," Derek said lightly.
"I don't need a fancy car," Carolyn replied, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Just hopped on the bus, saved you some money."
Derek smiled, shaking his head slightly. "So this cruise…you just happened to have a layover in Seattle?"
"Well, I've always wanted to check out the Space Needle," Carolyn shrugged as the two of them walked down the hospital hallway. "I understand you can see Mount Rainier from the top."
"Oh, really?" Derek countered. "Anything else you want to check out?"
"You gonna take me or not?" Carolyn asked, not missing a beat.
"I got back-to-back surgeries, Ma," Derek responded truthfully. "You gotta give me a little more notice."
"Yeah, yeah." His mother gave him a wave of the hand. "I gave birth to five doctors, I know the drill. I can wait, maybe meet your colleagues. Is that Mark Sloan?"
As fate would have it, Derek's ex-best-friend-turned-best-friend-again was headed straight toward them. Couldn't be on purpose, Derek thought to himself, since he knew Mark was trying to avoid Carolyn like Derek was trying to avoid thinking about the fact that this is the first time his mother had visited since Carrie's accident.
"Yeah," Derek breathed.
"Mark Sloan!" Carolyn called.
"Oh, Mrs. Shepherd, you look great," Mark greeted her with an air of cheeriness before checking on a fake page. "Oh damn," he said dryly. "Catch up later?"
Not a moment later and Mark's place was taken by Meredith, donned in an overly high ponytail tied by an overly pink hair scrunchy.
"Uh, oh, perfect timing," Derek stammered, caught off guard slightly. "Um, Mom, this is Meredith."
Carolyn raised an eyebrow, followed by her signature I'm-about-to-meddle-in-your-life smile. "Meredith, finally."
Derek could feel his forehead crease with anxiety upon hearing his girlfriend's exaggerated "hi!" as his mother pulled her into a tight hug.
"My son has been acting like a dog with his favorite bone, hiding you away," Carolyn said. "I hope you're free for lunch. I can't wait to dive in and find out all about you."
Swallowing, Derek tried to push the thought of his mother and Meredith having lunch together aside and focus on his upcoming surgeries.
If he focused on his upcoming surgeries, he could forget about the problems (differences of opinion, whatever you wanted to call it) he and Meredith had been having.
He could forget about the fact that the guy he had to operate on was a convicted murderer.
He could forget about the dream.
He could forget about her.
Later that night, Derek and Carolyn sat outside on a bench near the hospital's entrance, street lamps and crescent moonlight illuminating both of their faces. He could tell his mother desperately wanted to talk to him, and a part of him really wanted to hear her voice since it had been so long, but the other was perfectly content to sit there in silence, leaving the potential there for anything to happen, anything at all.
"Your father always wanted you to have this, for the right girl," Carolyn said, breaking the silence and handing him a small box. "Addie wasn't right, clearly."
For a moment Derek's mouth went dry and he swore he felt his heart stop in his chest. It had been over two years since his daughter passed away and his wife left. To hear either of their names said so casually, a reminder of them and what his life used to be, stole the breath from his chest, air snatched away from him just as quickly as the joyful moments of his past.
"You spent less than an hour with Meredith," he managed. "You barely even know her."
"I know enough," Carolyn replied. "I know...it's easier to have compassion for a good person than a murderer. I know how angry you still are about what happened to Dad. And Carrie."
Derek's heart pounded in his chest. Two years later and he still wasn't ready to talk about Carrie with anyone, not even his own mother. There was only one other person who could really understand, and she had been gone from his life for just as long.
"Of course I'm angry," he snapped. But, immediately regretting his tone, he followed with, "aren't you?"
"With respect to your dad...I still can't sleep on his side of the bed," his mother admitted. "The mattress is wearing unevenly. But no...I'm not angry, not anymore."
Derek was silent, waiting for her to continue. As much as he didn't want her to, he knew she would.
"And Carrie…" Carolyn said the name quietly. "I loved that little girl. I always will. In a lot of ways, she was just like you. Smart, passionate, and maybe a little stubborn. What happened to her was...devastating, horrible, but we keep going. Even if our loved ones can't. We put one foot in front of the other. We don't let the past keep us from doing what needs to be done right now."
A lump formed in Derek's throat, threatening to suffocate him. He knew his mother well enough to sense that she had been wanting to talk about her granddaughter all day, just as much as she'd wanted to meet her son's girlfriend. Either that, or she was masking the conversation she really wanted to have with Derek with going on and on about Meredith.
Derek didn't want to talk about his daughter; his strong-willed mother would just make sure he listened. Still, no matter how much Carolyn wanted him to listen, he refused to sit back and let her talk about Carrie as if her death were not an accident. The anger he felt about his father's murder was completely different from the devastation he felt from his daughter's.
One death was deliberate, the other was not.
"Carrie's was an accident," he muttered. "Dad's was not."
Carolyn gazed at him sympathetically, pushing to accept something he swore he never would. "Sweetheart. You see things in black and white. Meredith doesn't."
At this point, the only word Derek could formulate was, "no."
"You need a spoonful of that," Carolyn said, grabbing his hand. "You need her. She's the one."
Was she?
Reviews would be greatly appreciated :)
