When Derek awoke, Meredith had already gone. He had a blurry memory of her voice telling him that she had to go, but George was downstairs and she'd taken everything off the floor in the room. He had a visual of all of her clothes and magazines and books stacked on top of the dresser. He'd probably just end up knocking it all off as he stumbled around, he thought, annoyed.
Well, might as well get a start on it. He sat up, slowly assessing his position on the bed. He reached out and felt the bedside table with one hand, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. It was disquieting. He wanted ot open his eyes, he wanted the game to be over, for the frat boys to take the blindfold off. That did not happen, of course, so he slowly began to move around the room, moving slowly just to make sure that he did not fall over something that Meredith had missed.
There did not seem to be anything, and he thought he was just about to the ensuite bathroom that they never used. He did not know why Meredith preferred to use the main bathroom, but he figured it had something to do with growing up in the house and the ensuite being her mothers. They pretty much just used it for its bathtub.
He was not as close to the doorway as the thought, he realized as he walked into the dresser. "Damn it!" he called out, rubbing the place on his him where the sharp corner had bruised it.
"Dr- er—Derek? Are you all right?" George called, possibly from downstairs as his voice sounded far away.
"Yeah, fine. Thanks." Derek called back with a scowl. Oh yeah, fine. Fine in the way that Meredith was often fine. Fine in the 'I'm an idiot who just walked into a dresser' way. He rubbed the bruise. Like he needed more bruises than the freaking car accident had given him.
With a new resolve, built solely on self-disgust, he began again, going at an angle from the dresser and making it into the bathroom. He managed to make it to the toilet and then to the sink, pulling out his toothbrush and toothpaste that Meredith had palced there the night before. He managed to squeeze the paste onto the brush but he was pretty sure that the toothpaste cap disappeared in the time it took him ot do that, so he just placed the open tube on the counter. He hated leaving toothpaste open.
Back in the bedroom he went on a clothing quest. His idea was to look perfectly put together, not at all someone who was getting dressed in the dark, but after five failed attempts with a button-up shirt all of which ended up in the buttons being out of alignment he gave up and found a t-shirt in the pile of his clothes that had landed at Meredith's. He managed jeans and decided that that was enough. It was not as if he were going any where.
He went out into the hallway, slowly, one hand against the wall, waiting for the railing or, he thought sardonically, to fall face first down the stairs. Maybe that would jog something and bring his vision back.
"Need a hand?" George's voice is beside him suddenly. He suspects conspiracy. George was definitely downstairs the last time Derek heard his voice. Or maybe he wasn't. he had not been exactly sure from how far away the intern had called to him. He could have just been in his room, maybe with the door closed.
"Er…."
"You're almost to the stairs. There are seventeen of them. Izzie counted once. I'm not sure why…. She's anal like that sometimes…." George's rambling somehow made the situation less awkward. He could see the smile that he'd be giving him, the 'I'm being helpful' look that was almost like an eager puppy. It should have annoyed Derek, but a part of him was relieved. He did not have to risk the falling down the stairs at least.
George grabbed his arm right before he got to the first one, but after he went down it he gripped the banister with both hands and slowly went down the rest, silently counting. Fifteen…sixteen…seventeen. There. Hardwood floor. Okay. He turned, aware of George hovering right behind him. Somehow he made it to the couch without walking into the coffee table.
He plopped down on the cushions. He felt tired, as if he had just done a twelve hour surgery when all he had done was gotten dressed and gone downstairs. That was something that used to take fifteen minutes, a speck in his day sandwiched by waking up next to Meredith and hurrying downstairs to eat breakfast.
"Hey George, what time is it?" he asked, realizing he had no idea how early or late it was, only that it was sometime after five, since Meredith was gone.
"Um…. Just after eleven. Do you want something to eat? I was about to make sandwiches, so if you want one…."
"Yeah, sandwiches are good," Derek broke in. He heard George start moving around in the kitchen and he sat back on the couch.
The remote, which had apparently been on the armrest was jarred by his movement and fell into his lap. He picked it up and flicked on the TV, feeling around on the buttons. He managed to get it on the local news station and he left it there. The TV was just filler anyway; whenever it was on he felt as if he were missing something, no matter how good Meredith's commentary was. She was surprisingly good at describing things, for someone who usually left so many details out of her life.
"Turkey okay?" George called.
"Yeah, whatever," Derek responded, and then decided to get on with the walking to the kitchen bit. He stood, his hand hovering over the couch until he touched the other arm, and then he began inching around where he knew the coffee table was, his fingertips brushed a lamp, then there was a space in which he could touch nothing, but he also walked into nothing. It was eerie, because there was the sense that he was just waiting for another obstacle. It came in the form of the doorway, which was not such an obstacle.
He stepped sideways until his other hand reached the other side of the doorjamb, grateful that George was in the kitchen and could not see him. It was stupid; it was not as if he had a choice on how to get around, as he was blind, but still he did not want the intern to see him in such a compromising position. It was bad enough that he socialized with the interns so much; a part of him still wanted the authority over the others, if not Meredith.
He trailed a hand along the wall until he reached the doorjamb of the kitchen. He turned and walked into the room feeling around for the nearest chair. He fumbled a little, little, his hand slipping off of the edge of the chair, but he gripped it after another try. Once he sat down he rested his elbows on the table and attempted to look normal. Right. Normal.
"Here you go," George said, and Derek heard the plate slide in front of him.
"Thanks," he said, picking up the sandwich. He heard a plop as what was probably a tomato slipped out from between the bread, but he could not really bring himself to care.
After lunch, Derek made his way back to the couch and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do with himself. He was a surgeon, a workaholic with a God complex who hardly ever left the hospital outside of Meredith's company.
"Hey, Derek, Meredith was up last night setting this up," George said, placing something hard and cold into Derek's hand.
He took it. "My iPod?" he asked.
"Yeah. She put audiobooks on it, I think. Took her much internet searching and swearing, but she figured it out. She said all that you have to do is push play."
Derek nodded and pulled the headphone cord, finding the tiny earbuds and putting them into his ears. He felt around on the iPod for a second, but finally located the play button and pushed.
"This is Audible. The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemmingway…." Derek smiled to himself. That was why he loved Meredith. She always remembered the little things. He settled back on the couch to listen.
He soon discovered that he liked this way of passing his time. It was not surgery, but the audiobooks were better than sitting around listening to the TV and feeling that there was a whole nother world that he was missing out on. These were not meant to be seen, there was nothing to see.
He was usually to easily distracted to read an entire book in one sititng, which was why he was incredibly surprised when the book was ending and he had barely moved from the couch. He paused the iPod after listening to the title of the next book. War and Peace. He laughed. He had once told Meredith that if he ever had the chance he would like to just sit down and read the classics; he had used that book as an example.
For a while, for the seven or so hours that the book had been playing in his ears, he had forgotten that he was now blind; that he would not be able to sit up and open his eyes when the book was over. The realization of this made him angrily pull out the earbuds and deposit the iPod onto the coffee table.
"Izzie and Mer should be home soon." George's voice startled him, and he wondered how long he had been in the room. Possibly the whole afternoon, since Derek had been so far removed from his surroundings. "We're ordering pizza, any requests?"
Derek shrugged.
"Okay then, I'll go take care of that."
He heard George get up and leave, and a few seconds later he heard a car door slam. The door opened a second later and he heard Izzie and Meredith come in, laughing about something. He straightened, he did not really want to have Meredith see him brooding again. She did not deserve that.
"Hey you," she said, coming in and kissing him. He felt her plop down next to him and she put her head on his shoulder.
"Hey. How was your day?"
"Long," she sighed. "Long and with much paperwork. Bailey thinks I'm still distracted, so I'm on scut."
"Sorry."
"Not your fault. Besides, I like it when I have a good reason to be distracted." He could imagine the devilish smile on her face and he smiled.
"Well then I'm glad to be your good reason," he said. "Any good patients?"
She paused. She paused for just a second, and he could hear her watch turning over on her wrist. "Nothing in particular. How was the case you had with Sloan, Izzie?"
"You're leaving something out," Derek broke in. "What is it, Mer?"
She sighed and adjusted herself on the couch, he thought so that hse was facing him. She took both of his hand in hers. "There was a girl with severe epilepsy. Dr. Weir is performing a hemispherectomy tomorrow."
It was not a huge procedure, he'd done plenty. But those were something he was good at. Weir was all right, but he wished….
"You okay?" Meredith asked, clearly wary.
"Yeah, fine," he said, forcing himself to smile, to keep her from worrying. He leaned in and her lips came up to meet his.
"Good," she said. "So, in other news, Izzie must be sleeping with Sloan, because she got to scrub in on a huge reconstruction surgery today!"
Izzie laughed, "I am NOT sleeping with Sloan!" she protested, and Derek could hear the blush in her voice.
"Right. What was it he said? He likes something nice to look at in the OR?"
Derek felt a smile creep unbidden to his lips. Mark had said that to him once, complaining about an elderly scrub nurse. They were speaking now, kind of, when they had to.
"She's not sleeping with Sloan," George cut in. Derek tuned back into the conversation going on around him. It was a little too easy to tune out conversations when he could not see the speakers.
There was silence as everyone registered what he was saying. Derek imagined George's face turning red as he realized the implications of his words.
"Oh? And George, how would you--?" Meredith started to ask and Derek laughed at the tone of her voice, but then the doorbell rang.
"Oh, saved by the bell O'Malley," Derek cut in.
Meredith laughed, sliding her hand into his. "Come on, Dr. Shepard, let's eat." She pulled him up and he let her guide him to the kitchen. It was less stressful with her hand in his, her warning him about obstacles. He felt guilty that she had to care for him, but at the same time having her there made his life so much better.
They sat around the table and Izzie dished out the pizza. Once they had all sat down Meredith rested her hand on Derek's thigh.
"So, George, about your sudden knowledge of Izzie's sex life," she said, and they all laughed.
Maybe socializing with the interns wasn't so bad after all.
A/N Review, please/puppy eyes
