I think I'm in love with this chapter. Hopefully you guys feel the same way!
:)
Baby Makes Three
Chapter 11
"Derek, " She repeated his name for a second time, becoming frustrated at the continued silence. "Derek." And again, a third time.
"I'm okay." You're not okay, not even close. But he wasn't going to let her know that. She'll just worry. She has enough to worry about. His mind had a grip on his mouth, keeping a seal on his words, for the time being.
"You can barely walk."
"It hurts, Meredith. That's all. I'm in pain because I had my chest cut into. Doesn't mean I'm not okay."
"Derek."
And that was it. He snapped. "Stop! That's enough, Meredith! You don't have to do that...follow me around and harass me like I'm some kind of disabled person!" He didn't mean to. He never meant to hurt her.
But it was too late. There was a wetness that suddenly found its way down her cheeks, a wetness that she quickly wiped aside. "I'm trying to help you, Derek! Can't you see that?! I'm standing here, watching you hold onto the banister for dear life with your face as pale as our sheets, and I can see that you aren't okay! I'm trying to take care of you! Because you need it! You need someone to help you out! Whether you like it or not, you aren't okay! You've walked like ten steps and you can barely stand. So you can be a jerk if you want..."
"Meredith." He cut her off, shaky hands pushing with what strength they had left so he could lift his chest from the rail on their staircase.
"Maybe you should sit down."
She wasn't listening. She wasn't listening, because he'd been an idiot. And a jerk. He hadn't meant to. But she was right. He'd snapped at her when she was trying to help. All because of his stupid pride. It was the part of himself he was the least impressed with. "I can make it back to the couch."
"You're about to hit the floor, Derek."
"There's not really a..."
"Derek." She saw it. His crap words were going in one ear and out the other, because she saw his shaking hands, the pain in his face, and the unsteadiness of his legs. "Sit down."
"I can get back to the couch."
"No. No, you can't. Derek." Her pleas with him continued, born partly of both anger and fear. The tears came back as well, the ones she'd tried so hard to get rid of. "You're going to fall. Please."
The break in her voice was like a knife through his chest. He knew she was probably right, and he didn't want to scare her. "Maybe I should sit." It didn't matter, though, what either of them thought. His body made the decision for him. The very leg that he told to move forward buckled against the pain and the sheer exhaustion of something that for most was simple. He couldn't even make it to the bathroom and back. How pathetic. There she was just over twelve weeks pregnant, six months out from an accident that had almost taken her life, emotionally shattered, and he couldn't even pee without her help. She should have been taking care of herself, making sure she was getting the rest she needed, but instead her time was spent looking after him. Babysitting. And he hated it. He hated every fricken second of it.
He was heavy, heavier than she remembered. Her arms reminded her of that, tensing and burning under his weight as he slid to the floor. Not with a thud, though. There was no thud, because she was there. She was there helping him, guiding him to the floor, hoping that by some miracle he would be able to get back up. "I think this is why Teddy didn't want you to try the stairs."
The quiet, careful, and hesitant placement of her words tore through him. He'd caused that. Just another thing to add to the list. He broke her, just like he had before. First he got shot, then he caused the death of their baby, allowed her body to be shattered into pieces, and now this. Now he couldn't take care of himself, and he'd yelled. He'd yelled at the one person who was trying to help him. Stupid Joes. Stupid drink. Stupid sex. Well, great sex, actually. But, he'd been married. If he had just left her alone that night. And, yes. Derek Shepherd was having a pity party. A big crappy pity party. "It's been five days."
"Since you had heart surgery." She rolled her eyes, not at all amused or affected by his gruff and distant tone. "Since you had a tube shoved down your throat because you couldn't even breathe for yourself. God, you're so stupid sometimes." She stood there, looking at him, sort of just shaking her head a bit before she sat down with him. "You can do this if you want, the whole crazy Derek routine...but it isn't going to make me go away. I'm still going to be right here. Just like before. You can't push me away anymore Derek. I'm all whole and healed. And I'm not just a post-it note wife. I'm a real wife. The kind that can't leave."
"I can't get up."
"Not yet."
"Not at all." Her words hadn't phased him, not yet. He was too busy wrapping himself in a blanket of whiny crap to pay attention to anything else. "Can't even walk to the bathroom and back."
"Well, you could have, if you hadn't tried to be an idiot and go upstairs."
"My legs work fine."
"Except for the fact that your heart supplies the blood, you know, the kind your legs use. So no, they don't work fine." Another roll of her eyes.
"How am I going to get up?"
There it was. Finally she could see his eyes, and the regret behind them. She knew he hadn't meant to hurt her. "I'll bring a chair over."
She was already getting up, but he reached for her hand anyway, releasing a frustrated sigh when he failed to grab it. "Meredith."
"It's fine, Derek. Really." It wasn't, actually, fine. A person only had so much in them, so much to give, and she'd given a lot in the last year.
He looked up at her when she returned with the kitchen chair, as if to say 'now what'?
"I'm not strong enough, to pull you up." Her voice broke a bit when she realized the pain he would go through. It would use up every last ounce of reserve he had left to use his arms to push down on that stupid crap seat of the stupid chair to push himself up from the floor. All because she'd been dumb enough to not think of the chair in the first place.
Derek could see the pain he was causing her, so he forced his snappy remark to the back of his mind, sealing his lips in silence as he took a deep breath. He braced himself for what was to come.
She winced. "Sorry. I'm so sorry." When wet spots appeared in the corner of his eyes and a deep sharp gasp slipped from his lips, she fought back her own tears, doing her best to support his weight.
He was grateful for her arms around his waist. They did help some, but they didn't lessen the stabbing pain that caused him to almost collapse again. "I'm okay." The words were forced, carefully planned, and barely audible, but he knew she needed that reassurance.
"Here, sit down."
"I want to go back to the couch."
She didn't argue with him, not this time. There had been enough of that, she figured, and she didn't really want to listen to any more cross words from him.
Derek was relieved. When he finally slid against the cushions of the couch and closed his eyes, he was relieved. He was never getting up again, at least, not for a while. It just wasn't worth it. "Meredith."
"I know."
He sighed, opening his eyes. "I'm so sorry."
"I know you're sorry, Derek. I know.."
"No, Mer..."
"Really, Derek. I get it. You didn't mean what you said. I know." She sighed, tucking a blanket around him. "Look, you should sleep. I'm going to try and lie down. Just for a few minutes. We're both tired. And you need rest."
He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her footprints against the wooden stairs. Apologies would have to wait until later, when she'd calmed down some, and when he'd regained half of the common sense he had in his mind. Because there was no use talking, for either of them, while he was wrapped up in himself and she was emotionally spent.
** GA ** GA ** GA **
"Derek."
He opened his eyes, a soft smile forming on his lips when he saw her standing there. It took a second for her to come into focus, but he sat up slowly.
"Careful," She frowned at the look of pain that flashed across his face. "Here, take this."
"Thanks." He was grateful for the pain pills, downing them with the cup of water she offered.
"How bad is it?"
"Maybe a five." It was sort of a lie, but he couldn't take seeing her crushed. "I'm sorry, about earlier. I..."
She opened her mouth to interrupt him, but sealed it should again when he made it clear he wasn't done.
"I let it get to me. Being in the hospital again, having another surgery, you having to take care of me. Everything." Derek sighed. "I told myself I wasn't going to feel sorry for myself. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"I know."
"Do you?"
"I wish you wouldn't bottle things up." She admitted. "I know you like to be all McBroody,"
"McBroody?" He interrupted her with an amused smile.
"You are, all the time." Her tone was very matter-of-fact.
"It's just how I deal with things, Mer."
"I get it." She shrugged.
"But..." He helped her out a little.
"But I got all whole and healed for you. I worked through my crap. I stayed. Even though I didn't want to. And I'm here now, for the happily ever after. You promised." There was a pause, "I just wish you would talk to me, that's all. I wish you would tell me things. I'm always telling you things, things that I feel. And sometimes it's lonely. Sometimes I feel like I'm going through things by myself."
"I don't mean to make you feel alone, Meredith." The lines on his forehead became many as a frown deepened. "I never want you to feel alone, especially not now. Not during all of this." His hand found its way to her cheek.
She appreciated his touch. Even if she was sure nothing would change, that he would continue to be the same Derek she'd always known, she appreciated that he was trying. "It's okay. I'm sort of used to handling things, on my own, you know?"
"That doesn't mean you should have to."
"Teddy called here, while you were sleeping." She hoped he would go for the change of subject, because she was emotionally too spent to talk about it anymore. "She asked how you were doing. I told her I thought things were okay."
"Meredith," He wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily. "You're so good. Even though things have been hard, and you're scared...you're still here with me, making sure I'm taken care of." His thumb brushed across her cheek.
"It's what wives do." Meredith point out.
"I want to know how you are."
"I'm fine." She made a face. "Don't I look fine?"
"You look great," He smiled, "Beautiful. Just because you haven't had someone slicing your chest open recently doesn't mean you're fine, though."
"I really am okay." She insisted. "I'm feeling good."
"I want you to be sure you're taking care of yourself.
"There's not much to take care of." She pointed out. "I'm not the sick one."
"You're pregnant." As if he needed to remind her.
"Pregnant." She repeated, agreeing. "But not sick."
"Your insides were completely destroyed in an accident, Meredith." Again, like it needed to be said.
"Six months ago." She pointed out.
"Doesn't matter. You got pregnant pretty quickly."
A frown settled on her face. "That doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything that I got pregnant quickly." She paused, studying his face. "Does it?"
"It means that you need to be careful, Mer. You need to take care of yourself."
"I do." She insisted.
"You're supposed to have an appointment..." It was as if he'd suddenly remembered. For a moment, he thought about it, trying to pull to the front of the mind what day it was, and what date he'd circled on his calendar.
"Tomorrow." She admitted. Meredith hadn't forgotten, but she didn't exactly see how that was going to work, not with everything that was going on. "But you have your follow-up, and..." Another pause while she thought through it, one last time. "I'll re-schedule."
"No."
"It's not a big deal, Derek."
"It is a big deal. You already pushed it back a week." He wasn't going to back down. "You're not re-scheduling it. I'll just go with you."
"Derek."
He ignored her frown. "We have to go out anyway, for my follow-up."
"Yeah, but..."
"I'll be fine. You need to be seen."
"It's not even my doctor." She made a face. "She's not even there. It's some stupid guy. A guy." Another face. "What kind of guy wants to look at..."
Derek grinned.
"Stop it." Her eyes flashed an amused look, and she playfully nudged his arm. "Gross."
"I didn't say anything." He chuckled a bit, but his chest protested.
"Sorry," She frowned at his gasp of pain. "But really, gross."
"Again, didn't say anything." It was nice to see her smile.
"You thought it."
"And how exactly, do you know what I was thinking?"
Meredith was happy, grateful, for the lighthearted conversation. "I know you. You're a dirty, dirty man."
"You married me." He pointed out.
"For the sex."
Derek laughed. Really laughed. And he didn't even regret it, no matter the burning that swept through his sternum.
"Sorry, sorry." She tried to put a serious face on, but only succeeded in joining in the laughter for a moment.
"The sex is good." He mumbled, pulling her closer to him.
"Dirty elevator sex."
"We could put it on tomorrow's list."
"Of course." Meredith laughed. "Because you're suddenly going to be perfectly healthy when you wake up in the morning."
"Not healthy." Derek argued. "Just, ready. For sex. Dirty elevator sex."
"Derek." Meredith groaned in his arms, still laughing as she turned so she was looking up at him, head resting on his right shoulder. "You're just torturing me."
"Isn't it fun?"
"Fun would be..."
"Dirty..."
"Okay, okay, seriously. You're..."
He smiled, for a moment forgetting the pain and everything that had happened in the last week. Heck, he forgot everything that had happened in the last year. For a moment, no matter how brief, he looked into his wife's eyes and just enjoyed that time, the time they were sharing together. "I'm great. McDreamy, even."
"Yes." She smiled. "Definitely McDreamy." Fingers ran across his shoulder. "When you're not busy being McGrouchy."
"That hurts."
"Mmmhmm." She smiled. "Somehow, I think you can handle it."
"I don't know." He pointed out. "Those are hurtful words."
"You love it." She countered.
"Maybe." He trailed fingers through her hair, yawning.
** GA ** GA ** GA **
"Do you always do that?"
"Do what?" Meredith looked over at him, crinkled paper shifting as she turned her head.
"Mess up the table." He glanced at her hand, watching as her fingers continued to crumple the paper that was meant to somehow keep germs from spreading between patients. He never had understood that, how paper that didn't even stretch to the sides was actually supposed to do any good.
"That's what it's for." She stopped, though. Her hand was still.
"It's for messing up?" Derek smiled. Even if he was tired, he smiled. There was a dull ache in his chest, exhaustion plagued him, and it took every ounce of energy he had to sit in that chair for so long, but he put it all to the back of his mind for the time being. Meredith had tried to convince him to stay home, but he'd insisted on going with her. He wanted to make sure he didn't miss anything, and he knew her well enough to know she'd hide anything that she thought would make him worry. So even though he'd had surgery just at a week ago, he was there with her. The rest of the day would be hell, and he knew he'd pay for it, but he didn't care.
"That's why they put it here," She insisted. "You can mess it up all you want. They don't care." Her nervousness was hidden, or so she thought. She tried to focus all of the fear regarding her pregnancy into him. She tried to just keep a watchful eye on her stubborn husband, knowing that Teddy would kill them both if she found out he wasn't at home resting.
"I see." He knew better. Derek Shepherd could see straight through Meredith Grey. He knew she worried about the baby, and he knew that the crumpling of the paper was her way of dealing with it. He was nervous too, considering everything. They needed a good appointment. Anything less and he wasn't sure either one of them could handle it.
A knock on the door interrupted them, and the blonde-haired man that entered introduced himself as Dr. Gates, a fill-in for Dr. Davis.
His overly nice and bubbly personality only served to make Meredith more anxious. In fact, she had to force a smile to her face as she shook his hand, distracted as he rattled off a list of questions to her.
Derek could tell she wasn't okay, and the look of confusion at some of her answers made that clear. Luckily she was close enough for him to take her hand, and he hoped it would help steady her nerves.
"Other than the nausea," Dr. Gates didn't seemed bothered by the nerves, or the looks, "Which can still unfortunately be normal at this stage, is there anything else going on that I should know about?"
"I thought it was supposed to stop." It was as if she hadn't heard his question.
She was rambling. Derek frowned. She was rambling because she was nervous. Meredith did that, when she wasn't sure what else to say.
"Usually sometime around the 12th week." Ian Gates agreed. "Which is why I would suspect it should start letting up some soon for you."
"But," Meredith made a face. "This is week 13."
"Not everyone is the same." He pointed out. "It's nothing to worry about."
"Nothing to worry about." Meredith repeated. "Unless of course you actually like to be able to eat and keep food down."
Dr. Gates smiled, glancing through her chart. "I'm sure it will pass soon," He repeated. "Your accident was six months ago?" He read through the notes from both Addison and Dr. Davis.
"Dr. Montgomery didn't seem to think there would be a problem with her getting pregnant now." Derek finally spoke up. He could see where this was going, and he did what he could to hold it off. This man was just there to fill in. All of this, extra, prying...it could wait until her regular doctor was back.
"There's a note here, about that." He didn't argue with the surgeon in front of him as he put Meredith's chart aside. "The problem is, I'm not quite sure I agree."
"Doctor Gates." Derek was prepared to do whatever it took to protect his wife from some fear-inducing lecture from a man they'd both just met. Who honestly cared what he thought?
"I respect the opinions of the women who have been treating your wife, Dr. Shepherd." He focused his attention on him rather than the quiet woman sitting on the table. "And I'm not trying to scare anyone. I just want to make sure we're all on the same page here, and that we're all being realistic. Your wife's body suffered an immense amount of trauma, and that includes her uterus. She barely had three months of healing before becoming pregnant again, and in my book that gives reason to keep a closer eye on things."
"I knew it." Meredith mumbled.
Derek frowned. "If there was a cause of concern, Dr. Montgomery would have been sure to let us know. Or, her own doctor. Aren't you just filling in? For the day?" He gave him a pointed look.
"I'm not trying to imply that you should be worried." He assured them. "What I am trying to say is that given the trauma, and the short amount of time before conceiving, we need to make sure we're keeping a closer eye on this pregnancy." If he was bothered by Derek's implications, it didn't show. His attention was back on Meredith. "Your last ultrasound and labs looked great, and I don't see any cause for concern right now. But I know your schedule is quite demanding, and I want you to understand your limitations."
"I've got a husband that hovers." Meredith pointed out, trying to calm Derek down. He was fuming. She could see that. Heck, she figured even the new guy could see that. So before there were punches thrown, she tried to diffuse things.
"I can see that." Dr. Gates smiled. "Just listen to your body. That's what is most important. Taking small breaks during the day can be a big help." He paused. "Has doctor Davis talked to you about scheduling a c-section?"
"I think we're done here." Derek wasn't having any of it. But then again, he wasn't really in a position to run the show, not considering he could barely walk in or out of the office by himself.
Meredith shot him a look, "Addison mentioned that it was probably a better idea." She bit her bottom lip. "But she said I didn't have to. If I didn't want." It was traumatic, for her to think about another c-section, another surgery. So even though Addison thought it was safer considering the higher risk for uterine rupture, she hadn't pushed it.
"You're at a higher risk, Dr. Shepherd, for..."
"Look, she gets it. We get it." Derek almost growled.
Meredith knew there was nothing she could do, to stop him, so she didn't even bother trying. Instead, she ignored. "I'll discuss it, with Addison." She trusted her now friend's judgement, even if it was just given over a casual phone discussion. Meredith trusted her advice over Dr. Davis, and certainly over some guy she doubt she'd ever see again.
"Alright." That seemed to satisfy him, for the time being.
"Why do you do that?" Meredith glared at her husband when they were alone again, sliding off the table.
"Do..."
"Why do you always act like such a jerk? Just because you're scared." She cut him off.
"He was the jerk, Meredith. Filling your head with all kinds of crap ideas."
"He was just doing his job, Derek! His job! And you were an ass. Not that I'm surprised." She mumbled. "You seem to be good at that lately." She helped him stand from the chair. "Lets go."
"Meredith."
"I get that you think you need to be all...macho, and protect me. But I don't need protecting, Derek. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. And he was just trying to help."
"He was an alarmist."
"So that means you should act like a crazy person?!"
He groaned when she flung her arms up, quickly grabbing the counter with shaking hands. A tired and hurting body struggled to stay standing, his heart pounding rapidly in an attempt to give him much-needed oxygen to his wobbly legs.
"Crap. I'm sorry." A frown settled on her face and in an instant her eyes went from angry to concerned. "I'm really sorry. Are you okay?"
"Fine."
His lone mumbled word didn't have her convinced. "There's a bottle of water in the car. You can take your pain pill then if you need it."
"Yeah."
"I really am sorry." She waited until he steadied his balance before walking slowly out toward the car with him.
He had to really concentrate on every step, putting one foot in front of the other, and he was grateful when he finally slid into the front seat of the car. "I'm sorry too, Mer. I didn't mean to be..."
"A McAss."
A sort-of smile formed at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, that. I didn't mean to be that. I just, I want to protect you. From everything. And..."
"I know." She closed is door and went around, sliding into the driver's seat. "I don't need protecting though, Derek." She said as she handed him the water and pill, knowing he needed it. She wasn't going to give him a choice. "When we get home this afternoon, you need to take a nap."
"I've already put you through..."
"We've been through things, Derek. Together. But none of it is your fault. And really, I can handle it. I just wish you would talk to me, about what you're really feeling, because this crap you're doing lately sucks. It really sucks. I hate this Derek."
"I'm trying."
"You could try harder." She pointed out, backing out of the parking space. "You're McDreamy. And you ruined my appointment."
As always, I am SO thankful for the reviews on the last chapter. Keep them coming!
*Revised 6/2017