So it's been, um, a while since my last update, but I swear I have been writing. A lot, actually. I wrote about twenty-five different versions of this exact chapter before finally deciding on this one. Seriously. Oh, and I even wrote a future chapter as well. As in, a chapter that doesn't do me or any of my (hopefully) loyal fans any good whatsoever. But anywho, at least I was trying and that's what counts, right? (RIGHT!)

So, without further ado, here is the chapter!

Meredith was just finishing up the dishes when she heard the doorbell ring. It was late, around one o'clock and she was more than ready to go to bed. Derek had left about an hour ago. They had enjoyed their dinner while Cristina lay passed out on the couch in the next room, an empty bottle of scotch tucked under her arm like a teddy bear.

Now Meredith turned away from the sink and walked outside into the foyer. She opened the door and there, standing on her porch, was Derek. He looked tired and weary and heartbroken—not at all like the Derek who had walked out her door less than an hour ago. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He was quiet for a long time as if he didn't understand the question and when he did speak, his voice was flat, disbelieving. "My sister, Anna, is in a coma."

She nodded and didn't say anything, because there wasn't anything she could say that would help. Instead, she simply reached for his hand, pulled him inside and led him upstairs to her bedroom. She closed the door and turned to face him. He was standing in the middle of the room, looking dejected and disoriented. She eased the coat off his shoulders and let it drop, forgotten, to the floor. She took his hand and led him over to her bed.

"Sleep," she instructed him, pushing him to the bed gently.

And so he did.

xxx

Derek dreamed of her. He always dreamed of her. He dreamed that she was running through a field and he was running after her, chasing her. Sometimes she would stop and he would get within reach, but she would always slip away from him. Always stay just out of reach. He could hear her footsteps somewhere. Derek. Her laughter echoing around him. Derek. He closed his eyes. He was crying and he didn't know why. Derek. She was so close. He could hear her voice. Derek. Derek.

"Derek."

He opened his eyes and the field melted away around him, but her voice didn't. "Meredith," he mumbled. Instinctively, he reached for her. He rested his fingers against her cheek. She wasn't a dream. She was right there with him. "What's wrong?" he asked and then he remembered and the tears he had dreamed were suddenly real and wet on his cheeks.

"You were calling out to me in your sleep," she told him softly.

"You were so far away," he said.

He felt her fingers on his face, wiping away the tears. "It was just a dream," she said.

"I'm scared," he admitted and his voice was one she had never heard before. It was trembling and sad.

"I'm right here," she assured him. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Right here. She kissed each of his closed eyelids. She kissed his cheek and felt the wetness of her tears and the scratch of his stubble.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him until he felt the solid assurance of her body along the length of his. Her lips were everywhere, kissing away his grief. He was suddenly desperate for her. He wanted to be sure of her. He didn't want her to disappear like his sister.

She was wearing a too-big collared shirt and he began unbuttoning it. She felt his fingers move down the line of buttons until they were all undone and the fabric was falling away from her and she was naked in his arms. He held her hips and kissed her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. He shifted down her body and kissed the soft skin of her stomach and then pressed his cheek to the spot he had kissed. He rested there for a minute, but then her hands were on his face, guiding him back towards her. She looked him in the eye; her face was earnest.

"Kiss me," she said.

And so he did.

xxx

When Derek opened his eyes the next morning, he found that he was staring into the bright green eyes of an already-awake Meredith. At first he was confused, and then, abruptly, he remembered. He remembered his mother's wretched voice, crackling, broken, reaching over thousands of miles. He remembered standing on Meredith's porch. He remembered her bedroom. He remembered dreaming. He remembered her lips, everywhere, all at once. He remembered her body, sliding along his, fitting against him perfectly like it always had. He remembered falling asleep with her in his arms, torn between joy and undeniable sorrow.

Meredith watched him silently, as all these emotions settled across his face. He closed his eyes against the sadness and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against his chest. "I guess I need to go to her," he whispered into her hair.

She tucked her face against his chest. She felt strangely protective of him. "I want to go with you."

He glanced down at her, trying not to look too surprised. "Really?"

She turned her face towards his and lifted a hand to his cheek. "You're my friend," she said softly, as if that explained everything. It did, in a way.

He smiled. "Okay." He kissed her forehead and her lips. Somewhere, in a bed on the other side of the country, his sister was sleeping, but right here, right now, Meredith was in his arms and that was enough to make him believe everything would be okay.

xxx

Derek was quiet on the plain. He sat completely still, his gaze focused on some far off thing and she knew he was a million miles away, thinking of his sister. Halfway through the flight, she reached for his hand and he took it. He held it tightly, as if it was the one thing grounding him to reality. When they were an hour out of the airport he finally turned to her.

"Thank you," he told her softly. "Thank you for coming with me."

"You're welcome," she returned, giving his hand a squeeze. He nodded absentmindedly, his eyes already clouding over again. She frowned as she watched the grief resettle across his face. "Derek," she murmured. "Derek, look at me." He turned his gaze to meet hers. His face was imploring. He was begging her for reassurance that she had no right to give. But she gave it anyway. "She is going to be fine," she said with as much assuredness as she could muster, wishing it didn't feel like a lie on her lips.

xxx

They went straight from the airport to the hospital, knowing that there wouldn't be anyone at home. Anna's room was filled with people. Meredith recognized Nancy quickly and was able to pick out Derek's other two sisters from pictures she had seen. She figured out who Mrs. Shepherd was pretty fast, not only because Derek went straight to her as soon as they walked into the room, but also because of her expression. Meredith saw that expression hundreds of times a day. It was the expression that passed like a shadow across the faces of loved ones when she told them their friend or wife or sister was gone.

As soon as Mrs. Shepherd saw her son, her eyes welled with tears. She stood up from her chair and he quickly crossed the room. "Oh, Derek," she breathed as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Hi, Mom," he said, trying to hold back his own tears. "How is she?" he asked when he pulled away.

"The same," she told him, her tone defeated.

He glanced towards the bed automatically and immediately wished he hadn't. His sister looked tiny, bundled in blankets on the hospital bed, dwarfed by the machines surrounding her. There was a mechanical beeping where her heartbeat should've been and so many wires and then he couldn't see her anymore and Nancy's arms were around him. "Hey, bro," she whispered into his ear.

"Hey," he chocked out. He didn't want to look at the bed anymore. He wanted to see Meredith. Where was Meredith? He turned his head towards the doorway and found her still standing there, hovering half in and half out. When he looked her way, she smiled and he managed to smile back. He was glad she was here.

Then Nancy was gone and Susan took her place and after her it was Kathleen and when she pulled away they all turned towards Meredith, eyebrows raised with muted curiosity. "This is Meredith," he said, crossing the room to stand beside her. "Meredith, this is my mom, my sister Susan, my sister Kathleen and you remember Nancy."

"Of course," Meredith said, plastering a smile on her face. "It's so nice to finally meet everybody."

Susan smiled, Kathleen only offered a quick nod and Nancy seemed to ignore her very existence. Mrs. Shepherd, on the other hand, stood up from her chair and walked over to Meredith, extending her hand. "It's so nice to meet you, Meredith," she said, offering a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you so much for coming and supporting Derek."

Meredith half-smiled, thrown off by the older woman's unexpected kindness. "Oh, that's…I'm…well…" Meredith closed her mouth, effectively halting her stumbling speech. After a deep breath, she managed a warm smile. "Thank you," she said with as much sincerity as she could muster.

Mrs. Shepherd smiled again and for a moment, her eyes were bright, but then she turned away from Meredith, towards the hospital bed where her little girl lay and her face immediately darkened. Derek was by her side again in an instant. "Mom, how long have you been here?" he asked. His tone was gentle and brimming with worry.

"Oh, a couple of days," his mother replied dismissively, waving away his concern.

Derek sighed. "Why don't you go home and take a shower and get some sleep," he suggested.

Mrs. Shepherd shook her head at her son. "No," she said firmly, "I'm staying right here."

"Mom," Derek implored, turning to his sisters for support. Susan, who seemed to be the oldest, stepped forward.

"Mom, I think Derek's right. Anna will be fine for a few hours and I think we could all use some sleep."

Mrs. Shepherd still looked doubtful. "I don't know," she mumbled, her eyes trained on the still form of her daughter.

"I really think it's a good idea," Nancy added reluctantly after Derek directed a withering death glare in her direction.

"And I'll stay here with Derek," Meredith added, finally stepping away from the doorway and into the room. Derek smiled at her and she smiled back, fighting the urge to go closer. "Someone has to make sure he eats something," she mumbled, throwing a sidelong glance at Derek that was almost mischievous.

Mrs. Shepherd finally wrenched her eyes away from the hospital bed long enough to regard the younger woman. Her posture was stiff, but her eyes, currently trained on Derek's face, were relaxed, shining with a mixture of affection and concern. There was something about her face, however, a tiredness that wasn't born from spending six hours in a plain. The look was oddly familiar to the older woman, a mother of five, and as she glanced down at Meredith's arms, which were loosely crossed over her stomach, she suddenly realized why that look was so familiar, but before she could ask any questions, she felt Derek's hand on her arm, gently ushering her out of the room.

She allowed herself to be led out into the hallway, but there she stopped, refusing to go any further. "Derek," she said, her face serious, "you have to call me if anything happens. And I mean anything."

Derek smiled, his expression softening immeasurably. "Mom," he murmured, "of course."

Mrs. Shepherd still looked skeptical. "You promise?" she asked, drawing in a shuddering breath.

"I promise," Derek said, leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on his mother's forehead. "Now go," he commanded quietly. "All of you," he said looking pointedly at his sisters. "Get some rest."

He remained in the hallway long enough to watch his family disappear around the corner before turning and walking back into the room. He slowly made his way over to the bed and looked down at his sister. He tried to picture the person he knew. The girl who stole his coveted Clash albums and the woman who came out to the woods when he left his wife and helped him move into his trailer. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair off her forehead, feeling tears pricking his eyes. He kept his gaze trained on her still face for as long as he could and when he couldn't anymore he turned away.

Meredith, who had been standing a few feet away, quickly closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest and closing her eyes. It wasn't long until she felt his arms make their way around her, his hands tracing the familiar path from her hips to the small of her back. "I'm sorry, Derek," she whispered.

She felt his heartbeat against her cheek, heard his ragged breath. "Me too."

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