For Bee and for my Dad, two of the people I treasure most ...
"I'll love you forever ... I'll like you for always ... as long as I'm living ... my baby you'll be ..."
The low, deep melodic voice filtered through the bathroom door, its calming and soothing tone strangely hypnotic. A mental image of Derek cradling little Ben in his arms -- the infant's cherubic face buried securely, trustingly, in his neck, a muscular arm tenderly gripping the baby close to his body -- flashed in her mind. As the song began again for what seemed like the sixth or seventh time, only now a little softer and more muted, she imagined him rubbing a hand on the baby's back, the masculine yet gentle fingers drawing circular patterns on the now limp body. She felt a curling tightening sensation in the pit of her stomach at the image, which was funny really coz she usually always felt that 'sensation' in an entirely different part of her anatomy -- somewhere much lower, in an area that gets extremely sensitized -- when she thought of those hands. Big powerful hands that could draw her slight figure tightly against his body ... hands that cupped her breast perfectly ... warm hands that left a trail of fire as they explored her contours ... surgeon hands that skilfully mended and restored brains ... fingers so nimble and deft that they could send electric shocks to every point in her body with just a few flicks ...
A tiny whimper snapped her out of her reverie. Darn ... just as she was getting to the good part too! She shook her head rapidly to dispel the erotic images and wiped a hand across her forehead as she stared at herself in the mirror. In disgust, she spat out the toothpaste foam that seemed to have grown to gigantic proportions -- all thanks to excessive salivating!! -- into the sink. Rolling her eyes at her reflection, she continued brushing her teeth, hoping the more forceful strokes would somewhat douse her arousal ... coz arousal is definitely a dangerous state to be in when one has to lie next to an ex-lover with whom you can't have sex, plus of course the fact that a baby was acting as chaperone!!
Yes, there were a lot of images and sensations she associated with those hands, but not one of her imaginings had ever included a baby. The visual of the sink she had as she bent over it slowly faded as another vision became clearer in her head. Okay, maybe they have included a baby, but they were sporadic flashes that came when she allowed herself to think of him ... or maybe it was a 'her'. It would have been nice to have a baby girl ... a little thing with blue eyes and dark blond curls ... pretty in baby blue or maybe yellow -- not in pink, coz I don't do pink -- dresses. It would have been fun dressing her up, just like a doll, which was an experience she missed out on as a child. As enchanting as that picture was though, it was always a little boy she saw in those images, or dreams, whatever. But try as she might, the flashes always seemed to disappear as fast as they came, like a montage of photographs, so she never did see the face of the baby clearly.
In her mind's eye, the dominant figure in those one-second surreal glimpses was always Derek. Derek cuddling a baby ... Derek kissing the curly head of a baby ... Derek smiling at the baby ... Derek smiling at her as he cuddled the baby. And tonight, adding to the montage of images were more vivid scenes of Derek reading to a baby ... of him throwing the baby in the air as they both laughed gleefully ... of him piloting the spoon of cereals into the baby's mouth ... of Derek deftly changing a diaper ... his boyish excitement as he ran around the toy shop, eagerly pointing out toys to the baby.
He would have indeed made a great father, and he would have been extremely pleased to be one, she was sure of it, which made the secret she kept weigh heavily now more than ever. He must never find out ... he doesn't deserve the pain. Her heart constricted when she thought of the sorrow she imagined reading in his eyes if he found out. Face it, Mer, the voice-that-sounded-like-Cristina scoffed. You're more worried about the anger and disappointment he'd feel when he discovers the truth.
With the crippling fear threatening to suffocate her, she attempted to shake the explicit vision of those accusing blue eyes by concentrating on preparing for bed. Finally getting around to rinsing her now sore mouth, she returned the toothbrush to its holder and splashed some water on her face. Dabbing her face with a towel, her eyes spied the unzipped shaving bag lying on the sink, the intimacy and familiarity of its presence causing a twinge in her chest. Without much thought, she reached for the bottle of cologne amongst the contents of the pouch, brought it to her nose and took a whiff. The achingly recognizable fragrance assailed her senses, only taking a second to trigger a barrage of memories associated with the scent. With trembling hands, she placed the bottle back and hoped that she was able to hide all evidence of her snooping around in his things. She turned the faucet -- cold water this time -- and splashed her face again before wiping it dry. Maybe I ought to have another shower. Coz now that she had successfully distracted herself from her earlier train of thought, her mind went back to her very first thought ... not about babies but rather the pleasurable act of making said babies. Already she could feel heat spreading throughout her body. Cursing Derek for his imposed celibacy, she absentmindedly grabbed the tube of facial moisturizer from the vanity, not for 'defying age' or the need to hydrate her skin but solely for purposes of buying more time so she could get a grip on her riotous urges caused by her arousing fantasies. Oh boy, this is gonna be a really long night!
X -- on the other side of the door -- X
"I'll love you forever ..."
Derek lowered his voice as he began the song for the seventh time, the enticing smell of talc and baby shampoo permeating the air, and he took his fill of the sweet scent, drawing the warm body closer to him as he rubbed circular patterns on Ben's back. Cuddling his little nephew brought back memories of his teenage years, fondly recalling those nights when it was Ben's mother he used to sing to sleep. With Dad gone, he really wanted to help Mum as much as he could. There wasn't a whole lot a seventeen-year old could do really, but minding his sisters -- then aged 14, 12, 7 and 18 months -- gave their mom a respite from her enormous responsibilities, and it also gave her time to mourn her husband of nineteen years, who lost his life a few months earlier in a senseless car accident.
He swallowed the lump in his throat at the reminder of his family's tragic loss, and Ben seemed to have sensed his restlessness because he shifted in his uncle's arms with a tiny whimper before he settled down again with his head buried in Derek's neck.
"I'll love you forever ..."
He shut his eyes tightly, an attempt to dispel the graphic images of his father sprawled lifeless in the emergency room. For a long time, those images were all he saw whenever he closed his eyes, until they were replaced by the smiles of triumph and contentment of his 'women'. As their sorrow eventually subsided into wistful regret for a life cut short, they had managed to move on with their lives with some sort of normalcy. Coping with their needs was a constant struggle, but it helped him put his life into perspective. And it also led him into the field of medicine; he wanted to make sense of Dad's death, determined to prevent others from enduring the pain they experienced.
Oh, Dad, you would have loved being a granddad, he sighed as he nuzzled his shaven chin against Ben's soft cheek. Ascertaining that the little bugger was fast asleep, he slowly moved toward the playpen they had purchased this afternoon. Carefully, he lowered Ben onto the mattress and tucked the hotdog pillows against his sides and then covered him with the matching blanket. Still bent over, he gently brushed the soft fine hair from the baby's forehead, desperate yearning causing his chest to tighten.
This was how he imagined his children would look like. He has always wanted to have children; maybe taking care of his sisters had nurtured his desire for fatherhood. Six years into their marriage, at a time when they were more established in their careers, he had brought up the idea of children but Addison wasn't ready. And with every year that passed, the visions he harboured of a little boy -- a daughter would have been awesome but it was always a son he saw in those fantasies -- had slowly become dimmer and hazy ... until he had walked in on Meredith and Ben sleeping when he got back from the hospital after lunch.
X -- eight hours ago -- X
He was itching to get home. All throughout surgery, he had to work hard on keeping his mind focused on Mr. Low's frontal lobe, but even the exhilaration of touching a brain couldn't prevent his thoughts from straying to Meredith and his nephew. Not that he was worried about her ability to care for a baby; it was more of an urgency to be with her, with them. It was a familiar feeling, that sense of urgency, the longing to be with her. He felt it for the first time during that train wreck they had what seemed like a million years ago, and that longing to touch her and hold her dogged him since then. Making love to her on prom night didn't lessen the intensity of his yearnings; it just made him want her more.
Mechanically going through the motions of scrubbing out, he wondered when he started thinking of Meredith's house as home.
His drive home received the same amount of attention, or rather lack thereof, as he made the ten-minute drive on automatic pilot. He barely even stopped to make sure he had engaged the handbrake before jumping out of the car and racing to the front door.
He did, however, notice two things as soon as he stepped through the front door: the systemized litter of varying thickness of medical books, the mismatched pairs of shoes and slippers, the haphazardly discarded coats, all of which spoke of the house's quirky inhabitants; and, the lingering scents of vanilla from the candle Izzie lit that morning, of lemon from the cleanser George used to wipe the kitchen counter, of freshly baked muffins Izzie liked to have on hand, and of lavender that he always associated with Meredith, all combined in this comforting and familiar blend of fragrances that, well, comforted him. He was home.
He raced up the steps and ran down the hallway.
"Mer," he whispered affectionately, his eyes softening as he gazed at the bed's occupants.
She lay in a fetal position, her hands clasped under her head, with Ben securely tucked against her body. He slowly entered the room and lowered himself on the lounging chair. As he watched them nap, the little boy he used to fantasize about 6 years ago presented himself once more, clearer and sharper this time. So clear was the image that he could actually reach out and touch him. Blue eyes and dark blond curls. Before his extended hand could tousle the apparition of blond hair however, his attention had been caught by a movement from the bed. Ben had stirred in his sleep, but before Derek could get out of the chair, Meredith, who it seemed had not awaken, carefully wrapped her arm around the tiny body, drawing the infant closer to her. As they both settled back to a deep sleep, he leaned back against the chair and continued his vigilant watch over them.
X -- Mer's room, Derek leaning over Ben's playpen, present time -- X
As he looked down at Ben, those visions he saw earlier came rushing back, flooding his mind with hundreds of images, as though watching a slideshow of pictures, only ten times the normal speed. Meredith with streaks of pureed green peas on her cheek ... Meredith dripping wet after giving their baby a bath ... Meredith rolling her eyes at him as she changed a diaper ... Meredith sleeping, exhaustion evidenced by the position of her arms and her really loud snore ... Meredith beckoning to him right before she gave chase to a toddler ... Meredith wiping at a tear on their little boy's first day at preschool ... Meredith making big eyes at him when she sees the new car he had purchased for their son ... Meredith scoffing at the girlfriend-who'd-never-be-good-enough-for-my-son ... Meredith smiling up at him as she held her newborn grandchild. Some of the images seemed surreal, while the others more definite and concrete, maybe because of the afternoon they had spent shopping and caring for Ben. In every single picture though, he saw her there, and they somehow made perfect sense.
Picturing Mer and a child together does seem laughable and mindboggling -- he could actually see Cristina, Alex and Izzie rolling on the floor; George will be scowling at them for rolling on the floor -- but for some reason, he could actually see her in that capacity. Admittedly, she looked rather overwhelmed, terrified even, every time she had possession of Ben but managed quite nicely as the afternoon progressed. That scene he witnessed earlier, when Mer unconsciously reached for the baby, proved that she had the potential for motherhood, or at the very least, it showed she had the instincts to protect and care for a child, no matter how much she denied or tried to hide them. He admits too that bullying her -- it was an added pleasure to discover that the McDreamy smile still worked on her -- into giving Ben his bath was a bit brutal and underhanded, but he knew she was going to enjoy the experience. He most certainly did! His eyes almost popped out when she walked out of the bathroom, carrying a wriggling wet bundle in her arms. Her thin white shirt clung to her contours, and it didn't leave much to the imagination. His libido went into overdrive and he made a mad dash to the bathroom to flee. Not that the cold shower did much to alleviate his arousal, but it at least reduced it slightly to make him comfortable enough to relieve her of Ben and send her on her way to get on with her nightly rituals.
Derek glanced at the door that kept her at a safe distance from his libido and tried his damnedest to stop thinking of her naked in the shower. He had managed to take control over his 'excitement' while putting Ben to sleep, but now that the task had been achieved, his earlier urges began to stir again. And the sight of the bed, where they spent many a night thoroughly satisfying those urges, didn't help much in dousing the heat coursing through his veins. This is gonna be a long night, he groaned inwardly as he straightened and moved away from the playpen towards the shopping bags they had unceremoniously dumped on the floor earlier.
His plan to tidy up, however, was interrupted by the click of the bathroom door, signalling the emergence of Mer. He stopped midstride, and a glimpse of her flushed face shot his tight rein on his arousal to hell.
She gulped and fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other as she stood transfixed beside the doorjamb. Holy crap! He was looking at her that way again, the same lusty stare he had on his face after she bathed Ben. From the looks of it, the cold showers they've each had did not seem effective after all, and she giggled at the comforting thought. Her unexpected giggle however drew more attention to her, and his stare became more intent, increasing the temperature of her already heated body. She caught the gleam in his penetrating blue eyes, and his lips were pursed in such a manner that signified he was intent on ravaging her. She licked her lips as she stared at his mouth. Screw it, she thought as she hurriedly closed the gap between them, almost tripping over the corner of the bed in her haste to make contact.
Feeling his hand clutch her waist desperately somehow restored her dwindling dignity, and she didn't really care anymore about shamelessly initiating the kiss. Not that she could even muster enough brain cells to process regret and shame, because at that moment, all her muddled brain could process were the sensations he evoked with his eager lips and exploring hands. Finally! Her breath caught as she felt him whisper her name against her neck, the delicious sensations making every nerve cell in her body tingle in anticipation. She ran her hands through the soft curls, allowing her fingers to luxuriate in the glorious locks. Clutching his head in place as he continued to whisper against her skin, she tilted her head back to give him better access.
"Mer," she heard him say, a little louder this time, and she abruptly snapped out of her reverie.
"Hmmmm," she acknowledged stiltedly, her face flushed as she finally stepped away from the bathroom door, unable to meet his inquiring gaze.
"Are you okay," Derek asked concernedly, though there was a slight twinge of amusement in his tone, as if he knew what had just transpired. "I lost you there for a minute."
"I ... uh ... so, what was that song you were singing? I've heard it somewhere before but I couldn't quite remember where," she replied, hoping to distract him.
"It was the lullaby Mrs. Schaefer sang to her baby in the NICU, all those nights after the operation. She used to sit on the rocking chair while she held the baby, and she explained to us that it was from that book," he reminded her, smiling when he saw her face register recollection of the hydrocephalus case they had worked on together.
"That's right ... little Emma ... she was a beautiful baby," she confirmed.
"Yes, that she was. One hell of a fighter too, just like her mama," he laughed affectionately.
"Yeah," she agreed, for lack of something to do. Because suddenly, she felt the intensity of his gaze on her again and heat spread throughout her body once more. Feigning nonchalance as the butterflies in her stomach did somersaults, she stepped towards the bed and reached for the ends of the bedcovers.
Taking his cue from her actions, he abandoned the tidying up and approached the bed on the opposite side and helped her turn down the covers. He bent over to pick up her pillow and made a production of studying it, ignoring her outstretched hand.
"So," he drawled sexily-but-came-out-comically, looking at her with his impish McDreamy grin, "do you want to carry out that fantasy you had earlier ... you know ... the one that made you all flustered and flushed," he added, raising his eyebrow at her expectantly.
Torn between indignation and embarrassment, her mouth formed an O for a few seconds before their harmonized giggling erupted. Ben stirred in his playpen, and their giggling ended as abruptly as it began and they both turned toward the infant, daring not to move as they waited to see if he'd settle down again on his own. Assured that their unwitting chaperone had fallen back to sleep, they looked at each other and broke into silent laughter, well, as silent as they could be anyway.
Tentatively, as quietly as she could, Meredith raised her left leg and carefully planted her knee on the bed, her face contorting into a comical expression as she tried to avoid the part of the bed that creaked. Derek was unable to prevent from snorting in amusement, which earned him a glare.
With lips twitching, he whispered through his mirth, "well, I guess sex is out of the question, huh, since the slightest noise could wake Ben."
"Shut it," she hissed, and she bit her cheek to prevent from laughing. "You better sleep on that side," she motioned with her head, indicating her usual side of the bed, "so you'll be closer to the playpen, in case he gets restless."
She somehow ended up on all fours on the bed, and she made wide eyes at him to prevent him from laughing out loud and rolled her eyes at him when she saw him smirk. She rearranged the pillows into two neat piles of two each, strategically moving her pile a good foot or so away from his, an invisible yet unmistakable demarcation between them. He sensed the tension and discomfort emanating from her, but he acknowledged that it didn't stem from the emotional distance forced upon them the past few months. It was more of restlessness and frustration, and since he mirrored those feelings, he understood why she was maintaining some sort of boundary between them. He waited for her to lie down before he lowered his weight on the mattress.
He amusedly watched from his peripheral vision as she shifted several times against the pillows, exaggeratedly arranging the blanket around her like a cocoon, careful to maintain a safe distance between their bodies. She finally settled on her back, her body rigidly straight, her hands clasped on her tummy. While he let her stew in sexual frustration, he dealt with his own mounting battle. Finally being in bed with her after all those months of longing was sheer torture for his screaming frustrated body, but at the same time, he found himself content just lying beside her, though it would have been glorious to be touching her. It would be so easy to reach out and bridge the few inches that separated them, but he didn't want to upset the delicate peace that existed so he waited for her to take the lead instead. With the shared intimacy of caring for Ben the entire afternoon, he had high hopes that she would allow him to penetrate the wall she'd erected between them since he made the decision to stay with Addison. All he had to do was wait.
Meredith, I don't know how the hell you manage to get yourself into these kinds of situations, snorted the voice-that-sounded-like-Cristina. Just jump him already, for cryin' out loud, it prompted dispassionately. Oh, shut it! I'm not having sex with him. He wanted to take space, so he can go drown in all that space, she argued pointedly. She saw Cristina roll her eyes at her, and that made her almost laugh out loud. Now get out of my head already, will ya, she admonished the image of her best friend. He's finally back in my bed, and I intend to enjoy this moment, even if we aren't having sex. With a final roll of eyes, the third wheel made her exit, leaving Mer acutely aware of Derek again. Though her convo with Cristina potentially establishes her insanity, it had also effectively abated her arousal to a manageable degree.
She turned her head slightly towards Derek to take her fill of him. His face, except for the twitch in his jaw, registered an aura of calmness, and he seemed relaxed and comfortable. And though she was annoyed that he didn't seem all that bothered by their proximity and the impossibility of having sex, she also began to appreciate the intimacy of just lying in bed. It was a rather odd feeling to view intimacy in this light when all she's had of it was the sexual kind, but she had to admit that she kinda liked it. They may have had sex frequently – fine, every chance they had - but they did manage to have conversations too, a few deep and substantial topics, most often though about work; however, none of these conversations ever took place in bed because, well, there were far more interesting activities to do when they were in bed. And lying in companionable silence was definitely not one of them. There were countless times though in the past six months when she would have given anything to have him warm her bed instead of Addison's.
The unwelcome reminder of his wife and his consequential decision to stay with her put a damper on her mood however, and she released a deep sigh to ease the dull ache in her chest as she turned to stare up at the ceiling. No matter how much she wanted to be with him, she also realized that she harbored resentments against him for choosing Addison over her. Maybe taking space is a good idea after all, she acknowledged. He may have left Addison after prom, but he had also walked away from her. And when she told him she had broken up with Finn, he asked for space. Maybe sex is all there ever will be between her and Derek. Maybe sex is all she can give him, and sex is the only thing he wants from her, she sulked.
For the past ten minutes or so, he lay perfectly still as he waited for her inner struggle to conclude. More than once, he felt the wall she had carefully erected between them chip away a brick at a time then go back up, then down again. He knew, with every sigh she exhaled, every movement of her fingers, every single shudder, he knew she was either chipping away or adding a brick, and he held his breath in anticipation of how high or how low the wall would be when she was finally done.
With her muttered 'goodnight' and her subsequent roll onto her side with her back to him, he knew that the wall was back in place and higher than ever. He closed his eyes to the pain of disappointment from her withdrawal. He had spent the last six months in agony, Meredith's reproachful and pained blue eyes haunting him. All those months, he had watched her from afar, had ached to touch her but she was forbidden then. And here he was now, lying beside her, with all that space between them. Derek Shepherd, you are a certified idiot!
He slowly shifted to his side and he saw her back stiffen. Slowly, so as not to jolt her, he slithered closer until wayward strands of dark blond hair tickled his face. He lifted his hand and carefully, slowly grasped the band that held her hair in a ponytail, tugging at it till the silken strands fell untamed on the pillow. The familiar scent of lavender assaulted his senses, tempting him, enticing him, propelling him to bury his face in her hair. Home.
He heard and felt her indrawn breath as his nose touched her scalp, and he encircled her waist to prevent her from moving away. His left hand encountered the softness of the pillow she was hugging before it slowly glided upward along her body in its quest for her hand, her stomach dipping as it passed over it. When it reached her arm, his hand shook at the sensation of skin against skin, his fingertips tingling with unparalleled pleasure. She remained still throughout the exploration, holding her back rigid against his chest, but her soft sighs had betrayed her, letting him know she was just as affected. He drew indecipherable shapes on her palm before he threaded his fingers through hers, and then he gripped her hand till their palms touched. She maintained resistance by keeping her fingers raised, and he drew her body tighter against his to weaken her resolve. He released his breath against her neck when her fingers finally touched the back of his hand, clasping his hand in hers. She shifted their joined hands under her cheek, the breath passing through her parted lips warm on his hand.
He allowed himself a few minutes to savor the intimacy before he broke the silence.
"Mer," he whispered against her ear, drawing her closer still.
"Yeah," she whispered back, her left hand shifting from its place on the pillow she was hugging to the muscled arm holding her safe.
"Have I ever told you about Dad?"
I sincerely apologize for taking this long to update ... things have just been crazy for me this past year; in fact, it's taken me two months to complete this chapter alone lol ... a million thanks to Bee (murgy31), who pushed, motivated, encouraged and pushed some more to get me to finish this lol thanks too for reading this seven times ... you're the best, luv (mwah)
The song mentioned above is from the book, 'Love you Forever' by Robert Munsch ... one of my favorite stories to read to my kids and students
I would like to thank those who have read this story and added it and me to their favorite and alert lists :-)
This chapter was written in memory of my Dad, whose birthday and death anniversary were celebrated last month, which explains why I gave Derek a back story
Thanks heaps for taking the time to read this chapter :)