The Fight For Four

Chapter Thirteen

Derek let her sleep there, happy to fall asleep with his wife in his arms. Her weight was uncomfortable, especially after a while when her arm draped over his chest, but he didn't complain. He was grateful for the time, the closeness that they hadn't had in so long. He didn't sleep for a while, instead enjoying the feeling of her there against him, though he was glad for the higher doses of dilaudid he had at night. He knew he'd pay for it in the morning, but he didn't mind. Derek had missed Meredith, and he looked forward to being able to go home with her soon. He wanted their lives to get back to normal, or as normal as they could be considering everything. For the first time since being stabbed, he finally felt like he really would walk out of that hospital at some point.

Meredith slept well for the first night since her world had almost been ripped apart. She hadn't meant to stay there, but a lack of Derek waking her meant she slept soundly until the next morning, blissfully unaware that her presence would bring nothing but misery to her husband. If she had realized it, the time in his arms would have been short-lived.

"Mer," Derek whispered her name the next morning when he woke, groaning at the ache that was starting to spread across his chest. They were working on backing off his IV pain meds during the day. It was a requirement to come home. He'd be sent home with percocet, which was pretty good all things considered, but definitely nowhere in the same universe as a constant dose of the good stuff through your veins. A necessary evil, he knew, but miserable none-the-less. "Mer." He tried again to wake her.

Meredith jumped the next time he said her name, and when she heard his yell of pain she pushed off of him and practically leapt off the bed. Panic washed over her when the color in his face washed away and his hands began to tremor. "I'm sorry!" She said desperately, wishing his pain pump was still there so she could just push a button to give him another dose of meds. "I'm so sorry."

Derek struggled, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He tried to slow his breathing, but that only succeeded in a fire spreading across him, threatening to literally pull him out of a conscious state. "I'm..." He couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes, his voice breaking even with the simple word. He groaned, closing his eyes in a desperate effort to get some relief.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Derek.." Guilt pulled at her, and she stood there feeling completely useless, repeating the phrase as if somehow it was going to bring him relief.

"Mer.."

It seemed like an eternity before his breathing slowed and the wheezing sounds of pain faded away. She hesitantly reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

"I'm okay." He managed. He didn't feel okay though. He felt like an idiot for not figuring out a better way to wake her, for not moving her arm away from him first. For a second he wondered if she could have damaged his surgical site, but then decided his pain would probably still be excruciating if she had. "I'm okay." He assured her again, though he wasn't sure if he said it more for her sake or for his.

"Can I get you something?" She didn't want to keep pushing the issue. She had started to see his frustration increasing over his lack of independence and limited mobility, and she tried her best not to add to that. Her job was to love him and support him, not suffocate him, though it was certainly hard to figure out where the line was drawn sometimes.

"No," He looked over at her. "You snored. Last night." He teased, hoping a change in the subject would help his mind forget the pain.

"I don't snore." She insisted, though she grinned and leaned over, giving him a quick kiss. "Maybe you were hearing yourself."

Derek had to stifle a laugh, groaning.

"Sorry!" Meredith frowned. "No more joking. I'm so sorry."

"I'm ready to go home." He mumbled, frustration and resentment starting to set in. He hated that she apologized for making him laugh, hated that it was even an issue. He hated he couldn't sleep next to his wife without agonizing pain. He missed his son, and the simple life they had finally pieced together after everything. He hated the man who had tried to murder him, and even more he hated the thought that he was still out there, still able to walk in and do it again.

"I know," She sighed. "I know. But, Derek. It's probably going to be at least a few more days. You just started eating, your pain isn't well-controlled at times, and you aren't up walking yet."

"I know that!" He hadn't meant to snap. Raising his voice had happened more or less without him really realizing it, though the broken look on his wife's face immediately made him feel like the world's most terrible husband. "Meredith." He sighed.

"No, it's fine. I get it. You're pissed. At me, at the world, at the guy who did this..." She fought tears. "I would trade places with you if I could. I would. I'm so sorry you..."

"Would you stop saying that?!"

She frowned, frozen, staring at him. When had things changed so rapidly? Minutes ago she was curled up in his arms. They were connecting. Things had seemed normal. And now...she seemed to be enemy number one. And really, she'd been expecting it for a while. It just hurt more than she'd thought it would.

"Just stop apologizing. Please. I don't need you to say that. I know you're sorry. Except you don't have anything to be sorry for."

There was a long silence, and she contemplated getting up and going downstairs to get some breakfast. "Are you hungry? I'm going to get some coffee, or something."

"No." Derek's better half screamed at him to stop her before she left the room, but he didn't. He didn't say anything, just watched her walk away. He clenched his hands into fists, poundingd them against the bed. He was done, completely done with being an invalid.

"Good morning, Dr. Shepherd." Maria, his nurse, walked in just as Meredith left. If she noticed his mood, she didn't let it show. "Your breakfast should be here soon, but while we wait, I thought we could get you up and walking around some. What do you say to a lap around the desk out there?"

Derek knew his body would hate him for it, but he was tired of sitting around. "Sounds like torture." He mumbled.

"You want to go home this week, right?" She cheerfully helped him sit up, his winces of pain mostly ignored. "Take it slowly. If you think you need me to get physical therapy down here, we can. I don't want you falling."

Derek contemplated that. He didn't want to admit defeat, but he also didn't want to end up back in the operating room for an open wound. "A walker will do." So he'd hobble around like a little old man, people would whisper and probably snap pictures with their phones, and his dignity would be destroyed. But at least he'd do it himself.

"Okay," She grabbed the one by the window, smiling as she slid it over. For the most part, she let him get out of bed himself, though when he wobbled she was there to help him stand back up straight. "Slow breaths, Dr. Shepherd. It will help with the dizziness and the pain."

For a moment, Derek didn't know if he was going to be able to even stand up straight. His tired muscles screamed in protest and his sternum felt as if it was being ripped back open again. A low groan came from his lips, and he stood there, half bent over for a moment before he finally managed to straighten up some. Nausea instantly rolled through him, and he was grateful for Maria who once again kept him from toppling to the floor.

"We could wait until Dr. Grey gets back, if you want. I'm sure she'd like to walk with you."

"No," That answer came quickly, easily. Of course he wanted Meredith there. But he'd been terrible to her, and it felt wrong to wait on her to come help after how badly he'd treated her.

"Okay." Maria stepped back a bit, watching as he shuffled across the floor toward the door of his room. "If you find yourself having trouble breathing, you let me know. We'll get you back to bed."

Derek was determined, though. It seemed almost like pure hell, making that walk, but he did it. Against every screaming protest of his body and every burning pain that ripped through him, he kept going. There were many times he felt like he was going to hit the tile beneath his feet, but he forged ahead despite it.

By the time Maria had him settled back into the chair at his bedside, he was almost too tired to keep his eyes open, grateful that there was a slight recline. Part of him started to wonder where Meredith was, but exhaustion took over any rational thought, and he was asleep before his mind could wander too much.

"Derek?" Meredith was surprised to find him there an hour or so later. She'd taken her time in leaving, really needing a break for the first time that week. The tears, yelling, and frustration from him had hurt her more than she'd expected them too, mostly because she wanted to be able to take his suffering away. She'd left the hospital, actually, going across to Joes to get some decent to eat. She set his food down on the bedside tray, frowning when she saw him asleep there in the chair. "Derek." She repeated his name, relieved when she saw his eyes flutter.

"Meredith," He mumbled her name, sleep still holding him out of reality's grasp.

"Lets get you back in bed." She said gently. "You're going to fall out of that chair, and that can't be comfortable."

"I walked." He managed through slits of eyes. He was too tired to protest getting up, stumbling to the bed. His body was thankful when it hit the mattress, and he was almost immediately back asleep.

Meredith couldn't help but smile as she tucked his blankets around him. Walking was huge progress, though she could tell it had taken a lot out of him. Still, there obviously hadn't been a major crisis, which meant his heart was doing much better. That was huge. She glanced at the clock, noting he'd just received a dose of pain meds. Probably for the best, even if he would miss breakfast and sleep for a few hours.

She sighed as she sat down, coffee in hand. Derek would chastise her if he knew she was drinking caffeine, but considering his closed eyes, she doubted he would find out. She needed to be awake, needed her mind to think clearly. Adam Baker was out there somewhere, and he'd come after her husband. Who was to say he wouldn't come back? That thought plagued her. The detective hadn't seemed worried, but she was. They were talking about a man who was on a killing spree. Derek was the first victim he had left alive, and they all knew it wasn't by choice. The man's face was all over the news, and yet, here they were. He was still out there, and they were still clueless as to his whereabouts.

I apologize for this being a short chapter. I'm not really sure how I feel about it, but at least it's done. It serves sort of as a bridge between Derek's progress and where he goes from here. Because even though the critical days are behind him, his recovery has just begun. And there's still a serial killer out there who isn't behind bars.

*Revised 6/2017