Welcome back everyone! It's been a little over a week since my last update but school has been complete hell, plus the thing I was using to write this on was acting up and I couldn't fix it for the life of me!

This chapter is delivered by a different perspective. Like I mentioned in my author's note before, this is a MerDer story. I am NOT Shonda Rhimes. So take it into consideration while reading.

I'm hopeful this will answer some plot holes I left in the prologue. Obviously not all as I'd have no more story to tell. I'm pretty sure I covered all that needed to be said but granted I was rushing to get this posted.

Okay, enough of my rambling you all most likely don't care about! On with the chapter!


Fuck. The immediate thought swerving through her brain in that moment. Her cheek was suction cupped to the sheets. They prickled her skin and chafed. Her head wasn't resting tranquilly over a pillow neither. Near the same time she's come to the conclusion there's virtually no blanket, sheets, or even a comforter eclipsing her backside; naked backside. A light drizzle taps against the windows of the bedroom. It doesn't surprise her as for the last week or so the earth has seemed to have been crying every chance it obtained. Perhaps it's a sign. An indication of sorrow she's departing from the security of her home.

Maybe the sky is crying for her.

Either way, it doesn't dissipate that she's feels like a fish out of water lying on a burning skillet. Her underside pressed to the mattress is blustering with heat while her bare tush is a popsicle at a skating rink. Her eyes open to slivers and she catches the tiniest gander of a man in her bed. Crap. The term seemed to fit the occasion appropriately indeed.

Not that this sort of occurrence is new for her. She can't lie when it comes to wild excursions she has no business taking part in. She's always particularly had this knack for getting a little too tipsy in bars before bringing home inappropriate men she knows virtually nothing about. There are specific times she's done so without even remember their name the next morning. Partially she blames it on her lack of parenting as a child. The other part of her, the one she ignores and tries her damn hardest to bury away, insists it's because of him.

Meredith Grey does not pine over men. She doesn't fret about their existence and wallow for an eternity over a breakup. Not that she's invested very much of her time into the dating scene these days. Albeit, a tiny piece of her can't deny she still long's to see him just one more time. Even if it were for no more than a moment and she only caught the back of his raven curls. It would be something. Something is better than nothing.

Anything would constitute as something better than what she's received. Which is in fact nothing at all. Not that she can blatantly sit and complain about it. This is the route she chose. Meredith chose this as her way of life. She ran. Running much farther than anticipated no doubt.

Meredith's gut roils at the prominent image of the guy she must've drunkenly brought home the evening before shifting around adjacent to her lithe frame. She'd promised herself on every whim there'd be not a single 'pick me up' for her last night in New York. Albeit, her blood seems to crave the liquid poison known as tequila. That damn concoction seems to disrupt her sober thought process and shift everything to something somewhat porny and glittery. Meredith hadn't been thinking straight. Perhaps she could consider this the last hoorah before leaving town. She's searching for a new start and this would be the last time anything of the sort would occur, right?

Her palms push into the mattress, using her lanky arms as a product of leverage to adjust her taut figure. First her cheek finds freedom from the sheets, cool air whooshing against moist skin. Meredith smacks her lips; once, twice, even three times. Her cavern has the familiar taste of worn alcohol and bar nuts. This morning is no different than all the ones she'd indulged on prior. It's a deja-vu for her brain. Her left hand pushes through her crumpled tendrils, her fingers halting to a stop along the way which indicates her tresses may or may not resemble a tornado bird's nest. Something else she's quite familiar with.

The man she'd brought into her humble abode is still out cold besides the persistent wriggling in his deep slumber. Damn, she can't remember his name for anything. Hell, she most likely hadn't even asked for the guys title. It wasn't the first time she'd slept with a man without being able to recite his name. Her drunken tequila brain eclipsed rational decision making. It wasn't her tipsy minds fault as her sober side should know better than to quench her thirst with the sin. Sometimes she only uses the amber liquid as a way to fill the gaping hole inside. But she knows better than that. Nothing can fill that hollow hole. No matter how many guys she sleeps with or how much tequila and liquid she consumes in a limited time span. Nothing.

She's almost embarrassed to wake him and ask he depart from her presence. Normally while kicking the bar men out they're the ones to wake before she or maybe she's ended up at their houses in which she's able to make a mad dash out the door. Perhaps if she wasn't in such a hurry to get the hell out of this damn city she'd wait a minute or two for the man to succumb to the call of consciousness. But she doesn't have time. There isn't ever going to be enough time.

The long index finger attached to her right hand stretches out and she taps her print against rising belly. He flinches outright and she gives a silent thank you to absolutely no one but herself. Meredith's rapid in covering her bare frame with the beige sheet warming the floor rather than her own body. It encapsulates her petite figure and she watches with intricacy as her mystery man reels out of his lethargic state. Her front teeth sink slowly into the skin of her bottom lip. Normally she'd have not an ounce of anxiety doing this. What makes now any different?

"Mmm." The male grumbles. Mystery man has some light brown chest hair eclipsing his chest and a winding trail down toward his navel. No six pack by any means but not a beer belly either. From the looks of it, he's an average guy, late twenties most likely. A mop of brown hair coating his head and a light stubble to coincide. She still is clueless on his name but it's a distant thing in the moment.

Meredith sighs, pushes her ravenous hair out from her optics, and shoots him an awkward grin. "This is humiliating on so many levels." She mumbles and climbs off the bed. Her mattress squawks from age and overuse. Maybe she should invest in a new one for when she hits her new city.

Mystery man chuckles haggardly and twists his body toward Meredith. "Why don't you come back over here and we can pick up where we left off." His eyebrows dance and it's unamusing in her opinion. She isn't looking for a second round. Actually, she hadn't been searching for a primary occurrence either.

"No, you have to go. I'm going to be late, I have a flight to catch later. And late to the airport is not something you want to be." She's trying her best to let him down gently but he isn't budging. What is up with this guy?

"So you won't live here anymore?"

Her blood only boils further.

"No. Yes. Kind of." Meredith heaves a strenuous breath. She hadn't expected him to be so chatty. No one was this talkative in the dawn hours after a rousing night of sex. Of course unless you're Derek. And she's quite certain not a single male on the face of this earth is equivalent to him. No one is like Derek. Her heart can't help but thrums at the thought of his name. It's been so many years and yet- yet she's still receiving palpitations.

Mystery man's lips curl into a conniving smirk. "It's nice. How do you kinda live here?" It's as if he's part of the FBI or something. His questions are rather abnormal and annoying for a man she didn't even know the name of. Meredith has not a single intention of ever seeing him again in her life. What is his damn deal?

"I don't live here anymore. Well I mean I do but I'm moving. Today. Right now. Which is why you can't be here."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

The sheet draping his lap shifts and her throat tightens. He's still sporting an annoying grin that makes her feel the need to claw out her opticals with her fingernails. "I didn't know you were moving."

"Yeah, okay, so we don't have to do the thing." The beige, wrinkled sheet she's using as a shield tightens its hold around her body.

"We can do anything you want." He winks.

She aches to growl and attack him.

"The thing. Exchange the details, pretend we care. Look, I have to shower. When I come out you won't be here. So, goodbye…" this is normally the portion of all the television shows and movies where the awkward music rolls in and the camera captures the flustering expression of embarrassment plastered on her face like a glowing billboard. That part where the one night stand was a tumultuous mistake and now the protagonist is searching for an out. Except she can't remember his name. She can't fucking remember his name!

"Finn."

"Finn. Meredith." Her mouth stretches to a tight lipped smile that indicates she's more than over with this encounter. She doesn't care that his name is Finn. She cares so little about him it's uncanny.

She ganders at the sight of he waving the white flag in exiting her bed. One moment he's buck naked in front of her eyes and within a flash he's clad in jeans me a black long sleeved t-shirt. She's still bashfully nude beneath her sheets but doesn't make an attempt to dress as she truly does have to shower.

"It was nice meeting you, Meredith." His socks eclipse his feet next and soon after his shoes follow. Mystery man is titled Finn and shoots her a wave as he crosses the threshold of her bedroom.

"Bye, Finn." Meredith heaves a deep sigh and a weight lifts from her shoulders. At least that's taken care of. One less thing to bring worry to her mind brimmed with issues and problems.

She silently takes a glance around her room in a panorama style. She'd known this as home for the better part of thirteen years. When moving into this apartment so many years before she hadn't expected domesticating herself here for very long. It had been temporary, a place she could retreat to whilst getting back on her feet. Never could she have imagined living here for such a long period of time.

Then again, Meredith couldn't have pictured ever leaving Boston over a decade ago.

Now she was jetting off to another city. Meredith's craving a new start. This life didn't hold too many awful memories, but the recollections of moments she's created in Boston popped into her head far too often in this space. She wasn't looking to keep clinging onto the past like a child to their parents leg on the first day of school. A fresh start was indeed what she needed.


Most of her things had been long packed before today. Her room was an empty oasis besides the bed and a few lingering boxes she planned take with her on the flight over. A small suitcase sat near her feet; permeated with daily use belongings she'd need through the next couple of days. A navy tote claimed her shoulder and a small black backpack encapsulated her vertebrae. She wasn't solemn departing. Maybe a tad unsure if this is the right decision for her wellbeing, but she isn't upset about the change outright.

It's good and she keeps telling herself this whether that be mentally right before she succumbs to slumber at night or out loud in the shower in the midst of conditioning her hair. New York had been a great experience. Learning and life wise. She's grasped such an enormous amount of knowledge from being here and she'll forever take the little lessons she learned into consideration for her future.

However, she's outgrown this city the way a plant outgrows its pot sometimes. Meredith is certainly not twenty anymore and isn't a child by any means. She's flourished and matured into a remarkable woman and in this moment she's ready to take her advancements somewhere new and exciting. She's already seen everything this place has to offer. A shift in scenery is going to be a good thing.

Hopefully.

Meredith's more than determined to no longer be the kind of girl to go get drunk in bars anymore. She doesn't desire one-night stands and she sure as hell is eager to know the names of the man she's sleeping with.

Before it was never a matter of learning the guy she's screwing given title because she already knew it. There'd been no awkward dating or uneasy conversations. She thinks she's put off realistic dating in New York simply because she doesn't want to suffer through it. She'd been in love before this life. Fell deep and hard for the boy across the street who was inappropriately older than her but that never stopped them. There'd been none of the awkward getting to know you then. No uneasy dinner dates at overpriced restaurants. There wasn't even the awkward sex. Most definitely stemming from the blatant she never indulged on sex before New York. No. Before, she was making love. This city exposed her to the physical side of the activity. Derek had introduced her to the emotional.

Her heart stings at the memory of many sleepless nights making love to him. Why does it still hurt this much?

Maybe her new life could include hopping into the dating scene. She could unlatch her memories of him and start over. But it was a long shot. A distance thought she wasn't keen on fulfilling.

Why did people always assume you have to move on after losing someone you loved deeply? If someone lost their mother Meredith seriously doubts they'd replace her with a new one. Romantic love is certainly different than motherly but it's practically the same in some twisted way.

Deep down meeting someone knew felt nonnegotiable.

With one last languorous stare around her bare bedroom, she grips the hand of her suitcase and swiftly turns to her door. The wheels of her bag screech against the hardwood floors. Her living room and kitchen had been packed up a week ago. That leaves nothing other than the coffee maker, mugs, a box of 'Froot Loops', a few picture frames, and a thing of coffee beans left behind, scattered over the island.

She's quick to pour herself a thing of espresso before unplugging the contraption and putting it down into the last free box she has. She pushes a handful of cereal into her mouth like a teenager running late for the bus but in need of breakfast. Her remaining coffee cups follow and she feels slightly guilty for laying them in the brown cardboard without wrapping them properly. But she's already late and there's not a single ounce of time. Next follows the pictures she hadn't wanted to let go in the U-Haul.

One of two are ones that stem from her childhood. Sitting in her red wagon while her now absent father tugs her around. The other is a image captured moments after she graduated high school. Donning a rich blue cap and gown with the diploma stuck between her fingers. She grins at the memory. It had been the beginning of the rest of her life. Or so she assumed it would've been.

The last picture is one that gets her. The tears she'd been so desperately holding back before are threatening to make an appearance this morning. It was taken a few moments after Derek proposed to her. Glossiness was still prominent in her emerald orbs in the photograph. She remembers crying after reciting a 'yes' to him. He was holding her tight. Their grins were bigger than the moon. His mother's ring boldly showing off on her left ring finger. Everything about the image promotes a perfect life. The kind she'd wanted to live in. The sort of lifestyle she thought she lived in.

Reality was a cold bitch.

The back of her hand wipes her now teary eyes. She can't cry or have an emotional breakdown. Not now. Not when she's do to be on a flight across the country in an hour. She tucks the other pictures in next to her coffee maker and mugs. The one of she and Derek goes rightfully in her suitcase. A bag full of things she'll need to survive the next couple of days.

She makes a few trips up and down the elevator to load the taxi she's taking to JFK. Living in New York meant having a car was overrated and she'd never invested in one. Something she'll have to find the time to splurge on once arriving.

A small box is hand with her palms. The last of the bunch and she uses this time to take one last look around her past lifetime. Meredith is seeking to become someone better than who she was here. This new life consists of a real career and future. No more medical school and late shifts at the clinic four blocks down.

She was leaving New York in order to pursue Seattle. Some place she could go to ensure her status as an intern and become an actual doctor.

Deep down Meredith is well aware this is a good thing. He would be proud of her she's sure of it. Derek always was claiming she'd be an amazing physician one day. A surgical one at that. He believed in her when no one else would. Not even her mother or best friends. He pushed her to be something extraordinary. It pulls at her heart strings she can't do the same for him right now. Sometimes she misses him so much she doesn't know how she'll make it. But she can't sit and wonder if she will indeed float or drown.

There is no way to predict the future. She's settled with that mantra in the duration of her time here. She has to live in the moment without pondering over what may happen later. Maybe in some other lifetime she'll be fortunate enough to meet him again. Although, it seems unlikely as in the chances are slim to nothing.

With a simple smile plastered over her freckled cheeks, Meredith closes the door behind her and begins her journey on embarking on this new lifetime.

She has to embrace the change.


Well, this definitely answered a few holes I left in the prologue (; not everything of course. It seems as though Derek's sure Meredith is dead. In fact, she even has her own grave! I told you all I wouldn't kill Meredith. I'm not Shonda and I can't stand what she did to Derek. In my world MerDer survives together and dies together. I love this couple too much to split them up like that.

All of that being said, I hope this chapter was as promising as I made it out to be. I intended on updating a few days ago but the platform I'd been using to write down my stories was acting up and it somewhat delayed the time. I actually have muse and a good idea of what's coming next in this story so be optimistic for near updates! I'm going on Christmas break in two weeks as well so there will definitely be a wide variety of updates then as well.

I'm still working on chapters for my other stories. I haven't forgotten about them and I intend on getting them off the ground I promise. I don't want to keep all of you guys waiting for an eternity but I did feel the need to try and get this story off the ground.

As for this story, I plan on going back and forth between Meredith and Derek's perspectives unless of course I can't for some specific reason. Maybe this answered some of your burning questions and maybe I've only angered you more with the idea of Meredith leaving Derek all those years ago? Don't throw rocks at me yet I have a plan for them. I hope you caught onto a familiar conversation Meredith had with another character who happened to be Finn. Not sure if I ever want him to appear again or not but I decided her one night stand should've at least been someone you guys knew.

Things you must consider are that Meredith and Derek had a relationship thirteen years ago. Something obviously happened. Derek believes she's dead. She moved to New York. They were engaged. There are a million things I didn't address which was kind of my attention. I like keeping you all on your toes.

Also, something I want to address is a lot of you think I'm switching platforms. I post these on Wattpad AND ! I like both of the communities so don't fret.

I think I've covered everything? If not or something is unclear message me! Reviews make me incredibly happy and nine on the prologue was really good for a new story! Favorite and follow and do whatever you want (:

Thank you all so much for reading!