Painful Doubts - Chapter 2

"Meredith," she'd heard the uncertain, almost distant voice over the phone, a call that was long over due and desperately longed for, but one that had gone straight to voice mail. "Meredith…I know," she'd heard the hesitation again, "I know… it's not enough to say I'm sorry, but I am…and that's not enough… I know …and I get you may not want to talk to me…but… please…I need to see you…please," he'd finished, his voice hoarse and low and she'd heard the pleading tone of defeat in his voice.

Life can change in seconds, mostly when we are least expecting it, she thought as she drove through the familiar territory on his land and replayed the last hours of her day.

Briefly she cursed the interns' behavior, as having to deal with three of them was responsible for Derek's call going to voice mail. She didn't care what Bailey said, they'd never been this bad. She felt a tear escape as she thought of her own group, the five emotionally dysfunctional interns that had formed a bond which had made them family, and now one of their family was facing an almost certain death sentence.

"You wrote the book on quitting, running, hiding…" she closed her eyes for a split second as the accusation from days before still managed to make her feel raw and vulnerable. But, she'd had time, three days worth of sober worries, to realize he was doing the same thing. Except, he was slipping further into a hole and she had faced the truth of his words and agreed she may have done that, but in spite of it, or perhaps because of it, was there for him, and now he had to face his own actions and own up to deal with the issues head on.

She'd told Cristina earlier not knowing where they stood, what was going through his head, had literally made her want to throw up all day long. She had admitted she wasn't fine. That to be fine, she had to know he was. This, she thought, this realization made her smile sadly, this was apparently love. What loving someone unconditionally was about. But, that did not mean she was going to forget all he had said to her in drunken anger.

She was getting closer to the trailer. Closer to facing the man she loved. She wondered what condition he'd be in, what they would say to each other. How they would get through yet another hurdle in their tumultuous relationship.

Maybe, she'd decided during the time spent on the ferry, tonight was not the time to deal with their issues. He had called her, and there had been no hesitation when she heard his voice, she drove to see him. But now, Izzie was dying. Maybe, dealing with their issues would be secondary. Not because they weren't the most important, but because they could be put aside for another few hours, because once they dealt with them openly, and she was determined they would, once they faced each other's greatest fears, they needed time. Time to address problems whose repercussions would ultimately make or break their relationship. Problems, issues, whatever, she thought as she had her first glimpse of the trailer; the lights shining in the open darkened woods like a beacon calling her home; that once exposed, would set the course for the rest of their lives.

She'd answered his call, she thought and now driving closer to the trailer could see the lone figure sitting quietly, head bowed on the edge of the deck. That call from the man she loved had given her hope, and she did love him, had never stopped loving him. But, he'd poured salt on an open wound. He of all people knew how her mother's words had hurt, and the devastating result of some of the last words she'd uttered to her daughter on the day of her final lucidity. He had thrown words at her, painful, heartbreaking truths perhaps, that he needed to apologize for, and until he did she needed to be true to herself. True to the woman she had become, in so many ways, just as she'd promised him, but he continued to overlook.

She slowed down as she drove the last hundred yards toward him. She had lived up to her promise, because she wanted the same things he did, the marriage, kids, house and most of all that lifetime. She'd be damned if she'd go through the rest of her life waiting and wondering about the next round of angry accusations and recriminations. She'd had enough of that from her mother. She intended to hold him to his end of the unspoken bargain, and with that she expected an apology, because she intended to have a lifetime with Derek.

The jeep came to a stop, and he looked up as the door shut, their eyes met and held, conflicting emotions reflected as she walked toward him.

"Thanks for coming," he said. Regret, concern, fear and doubts clearly visible to anyone looking beyond the immediate façade and willing to see into the depth of his soul, as she was.

"Thanks for calling," she said softly, relief and hope forming an almost invisible smile as she shrugged slightly along with a soft sigh. She'd spent three days worrying about him, wanting to hear from him, talk to him and now at least she could look at him, and though she knew he was far from being fine, it was yet another small step on the rocky road to their dream house.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," she said, simply accepting. She knew he loved her. No questions asked. For now, she was willing to give him that.

"Would you still love me, if I wasn't a surgeon?"

"No," she said. Not expecting the question, she'd hesitated briefly and she saw the change, the already unusual dim light in his eyes grow dimmer, and she breached the distance between them.

"No," she repeated, as she sat next to him, silently wanting to say yes, but convinced she would not get too many chances to persuade him to go back. "Because Izzie has skin cancer that's spread to her brain," she said and watched him lower his head, "and you're about one of twenty people in the world who could save her, and I don't know if I could respect somebody," she continued and he turned his head to look at her, "that could turn away from a gift like that," silence and distance between them, "so please don't."

"Here are her scans," she spoke as she took the familiar oversized yellow envelope that held her friends diagnosis from her bag and placed them on the deck, "it's pretty bad," she said as they looked at each other, his arms crossed. Her heart filled with sorrow for her friend and overpowering emotions for the torment she knows he feels, and ever so briefly she leans slightly toward him, wanting desperately to hold him, to tell him her answer was yes. Yes, she would love him no matter what he does. Instead she walks away, because he too, must be true to himself, and only he can find the answers within.

Meredith walks away and looks back and their eyes meet.

"Don't let me down…don't let us down," her thoughts betray her.

"Don't give up on me," he silently begs, "don't walk away."

Both spent a lonely restless night, turmoil filled thoughts depriving them of much needed sleep. Each longing to be in each other's arms, eager to put this last major obstacle behind them. Each fully aware they had reached the proverbial fork in the road, and the fear of failure was unbearable.

"Mer, are you ok?" Cristina said as they walked to Izzie's room the following morning.

"I'm fine."

"I hate to agree with Mcass, but you're so far from fine when you say that."

"Stop calling him that," Meredith snapped.

"Can't see what else is fitting."

"He'll be here."

"I was referring to how he's treated you."

"Let's just worry about Izzie right now," Meredith told her right before Alex joined, "I can take care of myself."

"I hope that doesn't mean you're going to sweep all he said under the rug,"

Cristina insisted.

"I'm not, but I'm not going to walk away without fighting for a chance at our life together."

They were intercepted by Bailey before entering Izzie's room, and then Meredith exchanged a glance with Cristina, unequivocally stating, "I told you so."

Derek stood across from her, willing her to look at him, and she had. Ever so briefly met the fear and doubts in his gaze, and looked away until he'd told Izzie he'd see her in the OR, and knew she had to talk to him. She'd told Cristina she was going to show him she loved him and he'd have to do the same, but now, she realized he needed her and she was not going to let him down. There was too much at stake, the potential loses too great.

Meredith watched him, dejection in place of the man's usual assured stance, before walking in to the scrub room.

"I'm not ready," he told her.

"You can do this," she assured him, giving him some of the confidence he needed.

"How can you say that?"

"Because, I know you…I trust you."

"Do you?" He asked, and she knew they were not talking about surgery.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you asked me to perform surgery on your friend," he said, somewhat resigned and defeated.

"I'm here because I need to be here," she said. "Look at me Derek," she insisted, and in her eyes he found so many answers, "I'm here because I want to be here, for you."

"You," he said taking a deep breath, and pursing his lips had to pause before speaking past the lump in his throat, "you…left last night."

"You know it was the only thing I could do."

"You didn't call me back."

"I showed up."

"But, you didn't talk to me…"

"Why didn't you call me before?"

"I didn't know what to say to you…if you'd listen…if you'd want to listen…if I'd screwed things up so badly you would not be willing to see me, or give me another chance."

"I told you, we're in this together. I wasn't bailing."

"But you walked away last night."

"You still have a lot of explaining to do."

"You could have stayed…we could have talked."

"It wasn't the time."

"Will there…" he asked, "will there ever be a time?"

"I hope so," she smiled softly, "because I don't intend to let you get away with calling me names. I'm no lemon Derek Shepherd," she said walking up to him, never breaking their gaze, "my mother Derek, she turned out to be a lemon…and I'm no Ellis Grey."

"Meredith," he said and she saw the regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry…" he said, and his voice broke. "Meredith…I'm so sorry."

"Sometimes, Derek…saying you're sorry just isn't enough."

"I'll make it up to you…I will…please," he pleaded. "Meredith…please, don't walk away."

"Dr. Shepherd," she said, intending to be playful, to give him a bit of lightness before walking into his first surgery, but naturally, he'd interpreted it the wrong way.

"Yes, Dr. Grey," he said, recalling the last time she'd addressed him as such, while he had been with Rose, and she saw the luster leave his eyes.

"Derek," she said immediately realizing how the conversation had taken a wrong turn.

"Yes, Dr. Grey," he replied again coldly.

"Oh, you brainless moron."

"What," he said taken aback by her attitude.

"Dr. Shepherd," she said again, bridging the distance between them, standing close to him, "I was going to remind you I have a thing for ferry boats."

"You do?" He questioned, surprised by the slight change in her.

"It's intense," she said, smiling slightly, partly restoring his faith and hopes in them, when she repeated the words he'd once said to her. "This thing I have. For ferry boats. I mean."

"Even…" he said, "even when it fails…fails miserably."

"Even then," she said, "especially then, because we all make mistakes…and…if…" she paused, and he saw the tears glimmering, "if …you love me…Derek…if you really love me…"

"I do…Meredith…I do love you."

"It's going to take more than those words Derek…"

"What…" he asked, "what will it take?"

"I don't know," she said and before she turned to walk away, placed his ferryboat cap in his hands.

"You went through my things…" he said.

"It's a beautiful day to save a life, Dr. Shepherd, and I thought you should know how I feel about …" she hesitated, before placing a very light kiss on his lips, "how intensely I love ferry boats."

He leaned in and kissed her softly, "we'll talk…after all of this, Izzie…later…we'll talk."

"Derek…"

"Yes…"

"Give me a reason…to trust you…a reason not to walk away…a reason to not want to ever take the stairs again."

"Meredith…" he said, "I do love you."

"Make me believe Derek…make me believe you want that lifetime," she said quietly, cautiously, "that what happened will not happen again," and then was unable to say anything else as Richard walked in.