"You look like shit," Cristina commented as they met at the front entrance of the hospital. She gave Cristina a half-hearted smile before turning to go into the hospital. She had not had a good night's sleep to say the least. Her mind was still filled with images of last night. What does this mean? She'd literally had to drag herself out of bed today, dreading the moment when she'd inevitably bump into him. Unfortunately, the department of surgery wasn't the biggest place in the world.
"Derek is here," she informed, taking a gulp of her lukewarm coffee. Even though her back was facing Cristina, she knew Cristina wore the same expression she did when she'd seen Derek last night herself.
"Wait, McDreamy is here?!" Cristina exclaimed loudly, making everyone in close proximity turn to look. Meredith flashed her a dirty look, putting a finger to her lips.
"Yes, Derek Shepard is here. He's our new Chief," she continued, lowering the volume of her voice. It was bad enough that Derek was here; she didn't need anyone to know that she knew the new Chief. As much as she wished it wasn't true, the surgery department was prone to jealousy. If anyone knew her relationship to Derek, all her work would be invalidated by 'favoritism'.
"Our new Chief? Damn, now I'm never going to get approval for my trial," Cristina complained, a look of disappointment on her face. Being the head of Cardio, she'd hoped the new Chief would be someone who shared similar interests. Now all her hopes of getting approval for this new risky trial would be thwarted; from previous experience, Derek Shepard was not one to appreciate the beauty of the heart.
"Ten o'clock. Fast approaching," Meredith muttered under her breath to Cristina, plastering on a fake smile as their new Chief approached. Cristina quickly turned as well, quietly examining Derek as he made his way over.
"Lovely morning," he greeted, giving them a warm smile. His gaze was directed toward Meredith; he still couldn't believe that he'd found her.
"Morning," Meredith responded half-heartedly, giving him a sheepish grin before looking down, avoiding his gaze.
"Dr. Grey, could you follow me to my office? I actually have some things to discuss with you," he asked, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. Her whole body stiffened at the thought of being alone in a room with him. What did he want to talk about? She turned to Cristina for help, but Cristina was so mesmerized by his presence, she didn't notice Meredith's distressed expression.
"Yeah, ok. I'll be following you to your office, I guess," she replied, speaking slowly, hoping Cristina would snap out of her trance. Derek smiled; it was funny to think that his Meredith would be uncomfortable talking to him when they'd practically seen each other naked at one point, but then again, that was years ago.
"Ladies first," he said, motioning her to his office. She moved slowly, dreading the conversation that was about to take place. She could sense that this would be more a personal talk than a professional one. Leaving Cristina standing there, she made her way to the elevator with Derek close behind.
On the elevator, the two barely talked despite being the only ones occupying the metal box. He was fine just standing in comfortable silence, examining her for evidence that she'd changed. To him, she seemed like the same Meredith. Same honey blond hair, tied in a messy ponytail when rushed in the morning. Same warm green eyes, red from a sleepless night. He could tell that, like him, she'd had trouble sleeping. As he continued to inspect her, he noticed a very flashy, diamond ring on her right middle finger.
"You're engaged?" he asked, motioning toward the ring. Suddenly, he felt panicked. Why hadn't it ever occurred to him that she has someone, that she might be engaged? How had he missed the ring when he'd seen her last night? A million questions raced through his mind as the color drained from his face.
"It's silly really, it's a commitment ring," she replied, feeling slightly embarrassed. Twisting it around her finger, she kicked herself for wearing it. Usually she'd leave it at home, but Mark was coming to visit and knowing him, he'd be devastated if she wasn't wearing the ring. Mark had originally wanted it to be their engagement ring, but she'd made it abundantly clear that she had no intention of getting married at this point in her life. It was only after much persuading and some pity on Meredith's part that she'd agreed to wear it as a commitment ring.
"Oh," he responded hollowly, his eyes focused on the ring. As much as he felt a sense of relief knowing that it wasn't an engagement ring, the anxiety still existed knowing she had someone. He'd loved her, all his life, whether he'd been conscious of it or not. It'd only been when she'd left that he truly realized to what extent he did need her in his life. Of course, he'd never had a chance to actually tell her and now it was too late.
The elevator made a sound as it approached their floor, opening the metal door to let them out. As she stepped out, she noticed him standing there still with no intention of moving. He seemed so deep in thought that she didn't want to disturb him. She used to love watching him as he got lost in his own thoughts.
"Derek?" she called, knowing that if he didn't snap out of his reverie soon, the doors would close. She watched as he turned to her, looking her straight in the eyes, a look of yearning and vulnerability present just for a second, and then it was gone. He cleared his throat, smiled half-heartedly before stepping out of the elevator. His steps began to increase in speed as they made their way toward his office. When they finally got there, he fumbled in his brown leather bag for the key before opening the door.
"Take a seat," he said, motioning toward an ugly black sofa. He'd always had an affinity for ugly furniture; aesthetics had never been his main concern. He pulled up a small chair near the sofa, putting his hands on either side of his face, looking at her as he tried to find the words. She fiddled with her hands, looking down, afraid of what he might ask.
"I wanted to—you know what, I'm sorry, I just…you've been in Seattle the entire time?" he inquired, looking at her, a lump in his throat. It hurt him to think about it, the idea that she'd left him without a word, as if she'd hoped to rub him out of her life. He'd always wondered if it was perhaps something he did that had caused her to leave, something that he wasn't aware had hurt her. There had never been an opportunity to ask and as much as he wished he could stay professional, he had to know.
She nodded, turning to look at him; she could tell he was fighting back tears, his voice soft and shaking. Emotions that she'd buried came rushing back. She could tell he was hurting; it'd never been her intention to cause him pain. She was just selfishly trying to escape her own.
"You didn't write or call. How were we supposed to know you were even alive?" he yelled, his voice cracking as his emotions overcame him. It wasn't that he was angry; it just seemed so irresponsible of her. How could she not keep in contact? All he got was a lousy letter telling him she was leaving and weak reason why. There was no goodbye, no 'I'll call you when I get there', no tearful last hug and kiss on the cheek before he watched her leave toward the airport terminal. Yet, at the same time, some part of him knew that the reason she left had something to do with him. Something had changed between them at some point, whether he was ignorant or oblivious. At some point, she had made the conscious decision that she could live without him; but had she ever thought that perhaps he needed her, even if she didn't need him? There was so much he wanted to say, to yell at the top of his lungs, to let out all the anger, the frustration, and the pain of losing her, of not being with her for the past decade.
She watched in agony as he wiped the slow teardrops falling from his eyes, trying to hide his hurt. Her own tears were free falling, streaming down her face, watching him made her wish she'd never left, the man in front of her today seemed so broken. Her heart pained for him; she'd never thought that her departure would have such a huge effect on him. How could she have been so selfish? So focused on her own feelings that she never thought of others' pain? Of course, it had never occurred to her that her existence, her being had meant anything to him, at least not as much as the effects it seemed to have now. She didn't know how to respond to his question; how was she supposed to tell him that she was in love with him? That she might still have feelings for him? How could she tell him that it wasn't that she didn't write, it was that she didn't send them? All 356 emails, typed and saved in her drafts folder, never sent, never read by anyone but her. It wasn't that she didn't want to send them, but she knew that sending any of them would only cause more pain for the both of them. There was so much she wanted to tell him; she wanted to tell him the truth, she wanted to tell him everything, but instead what came out of her mouth was a pathetic 'I'm sorry'.
He should've expected that she wouldn't answer him; and she knew that he wouldn't push. There was something she was hiding, and he wanted to know, more than anything in the world, what it was, but he also wanted to respect her and trust that one day, some day, she'd tell him willingly. There was so much he wanted to ask, so much he wanted to say, but this was neither the time nor the place. He was aware of his abuse of power, making her come into the office like this to talk about personal matters, but at this point, he no longer cared. If it took using his power as chief for him to talk to her, then so be it.
He would risk his life for her, a job seemed like nothing.