Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al.
Author's Note: Thanks for the love KT … hopefully this story will take on more readers/commenters once it gets started!
Chapter 1 – Today – Part 2 of 3
Derek came down the pathway to the clearing where he had stopped before; the cool air was warming up so he took his jacket off and then donned the gloves. He breathed deeply – push the pit away, just get the job done, keep your eye on the point – he coached himself.
He took the shovel and plunged the tip into the earth has hard as he could. The smell of the upturned earth floated up to his nostrils and stuck there like a layer of glue. He made the same movement again and added the second heap of the earth to the small pile. Just get it done. Just think of Meredith. He made another piercing stab at the earth and the waiting tears popped out of his eyes with force. It was unavoidable. Suddenly, he was thankful he had no one else to help him with this.
A layer of sweat formed on his forehead and small droplets made their decent through his sideburns then down sides of his face. The overheating of his body wasn't from the ferocious digging though; it was coming directly from his heart and nerves and the depths of his soul. He made the same motion with the shovel again, quietly trying to focus on how big he should make the area.
He released a large gulp of air he knew he needed to expel – the smell of the fresh earth arrested him – he took a deep breath again and in rapid succession dug up what he was sure would be a large enough grave.
After several minutes, Derek stopped and took in the scene; the pile of fresh ground at his feet unearthed more than just this spot on his land. Deep within his heart it unleashed an ache so great that he spent a lifetime trying to avoid it. The smell of the fresh earth finally broke him and without notice, the pit smoldered with its unrelenting twisting and turning in full force. His memories swiftly flooded his mind like levees overcome by a hurricane.
A sob heaved in his heart and a tortured sound he'd never heard before bellowed from his mouth. Without warning all he could think about was his father and the day they buried him. The stench of the fresh ground – that same dreadful odor – filled his nose and lungs again now and Derek knew with certainty that no amount of diversion would move his thoughts away from his father … not even visions of his beautiful love Meredith.
Derek sobbed uncontrollably, just fucking dig, he commanded of himself. But the sound of the moving earth was too painful of a reminder; every time he plunged the shovel into the earth he felt it on the back of his neck; his hair grew stiff and he cringed in despair. Just get it done, he pleaded.
That trigger-sound haunted Derek for almost his whole life. That systematic sound of the earth hitting his father's coffin once it was lowered down into his grave – oh, that sound of the earth – it deafened him – it made him want to curl up and die.
Swiftly Derek turned his back on the mess and walked back towards the car, not wanting to delay the inevitable. His nose was running and his eyes were stinging from crying, he wiped the tears away with his forearm – what a fucking mess – was all he could think. He dreaded the task at hand yes, but he dreaded thinking about his father even more. He leaned against the trunk of the car for support and let his mind drift where it wanted to go, no – where it needed to go – he simply couldn't find the strength to fight it any longer.
He would never forget that day. After the funeral all he could think about was how much he was going to miss his father and what it was going to be like growing up without a dad. All he remembered was how his father was described by those around him – he was a "good man", "a decent man", and "honorable man" – and he remembered that many people, probably too many, told him he was "the man of the family now".
His mother spoke to him privately at some point in the afternoon and he would never forget that stolen moment. The memories of his father he had tried to hold onto throughout his life had faded and frayed over the years and just morphed into fuzzy recollections, fractions in time. But to this day whenever he thought of his father, his mind would undoubtedly drift to this moment with his mother because it was somehow indelible.
His mother softly knocked on his bedroom door and came in. She was still wearing her simple black dress, her black hair was slightly more disheveled though and her eyes, although still a beautiful hazel, were red and puffy from crying. She held a monogrammed handkerchief in her hands. Derek was where he had been since they arrived at home … lying on his bed in his suit with his shoes on staring at the ceiling.
"Derek sweetheart, Mark is downstairs and wants to know if he can come up," she said softly while she smoothed his hair away from his forehead and it felt so comforting. She leaned down and kissed his brow.
"I don't know Ma … is it okay?"
"Sure, do you want some company?"
"If Mark comes up, it will be just like always though and it isn't just like always anymore."
Small tears sprung from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks towards his ears. He left them there; he couldn't bear to wipe them away. He silently chastised himself for crying in front of his mother. He was supposed to be the strong one.
"No, it isn't. It is a very, very sad day and it is okay to be sad. It is your right, we all are very sad," his mother said evenly. Her deep eyes scanned Derek's; she was the same as always, just checking on him.
"I'm keeping your dad with me, do you want to know how I'm doing that?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know." He answered truthfully, it sounded painful.
"Well, I'm keeping him here," she placed her hand over her heart, "that way, whenever I want to feel him, I just put my hand over my heart and I can remember what a wonderful man he was," her eye began to glisten in the dim natural light of the room.
"If he was such a good man, how come he died?" Derek asked the hard question, but somehow he knew there was no answer.
"That's a good question sweetheart, but one that has no answer and it would be wise to not dwell on it. Remember him instead, remember everything you loved about him and keep him with you in your heart."
"I don't want Mark to come up", he decided at that moment, "Can you tell him I'll come down in a little bit, I'm not ready for like always just yet."
She leaned over and kissed Derek on his forehead, "Sure sweetheart, I am proud of you Derek, your father was too, he loved you so very much, you're a good, honorable boy …always remember that."
She got up and stopped at the foot of his bed. She leaned forward and gently removed his shoes and placed them on the floor. She massaged his feet for a moment, then without a word she quietly slipped out of his room.
Derek remembered that day like it was yesterday. After his mother left his room he went to his desk and wrote down his most cherished memories of his father – playing catch or cards, how he hung the big tire swing to the old oak tree out back – the list was endless. He also wrote down the words people used to describe his father – good – honorable – decent. Over the years this became a mantra of sorts and even though Derek knew he took it too literally, it was something to hold on to back then and he needed it.
He desperately wanted to be that wholesome man, a man like his father, but in the last half of the year he had made a mess of his life and that goal slipped through his fingers. For almost thirty years he was on the straight and narrow and then Addison and Mark betrayed him and from there he made one bad decision after another. Derek believed in his heart of hearts he had become a man that his father would have been disappointed in … and that broke him.
He knew he made a mistake with Meredith on the onset of his relationship with her; he had no right to claim her as his own. He tried to right that wrong or redeem himself by going back to Addison, but she was right the other day, it was Derek's selfish "need to be a good guy" that returned him to her, it wasn't love at all. There was no way to let himself off the hook for all the pain he had caused both Meredith and Addison and he didn't want to, he just wanted to move on and do something right.
Which was why, after Meredith left Finn's office before the prom he made arrangements to pick up Doc's remains and do this – bury him in the clearing overlooking the water –just like she wanted. He knew the task would dredge up all of his suppressed feelings and memories about his father, which was why, like a coward his gut instinct was to let Finn "dispose" of Doc's body. He was glad Meredith demanded more from him though, because as crippled as he was by it all, he knew deep down her happiness was worth every bit of heartache he was feeling now.
Chapter 1 – Today – Part 3 of 3 to follow.
