A knot forms in Derek's stomach as they navigate the roads towards Meredith's apartment. He can't help but notice the dilapidated state of all the buildings around him. His grip tightens on the side of the chair as the anger towards himself and towards Meredith's mother grows.
"I should warn you, Derek. Meredith's mother cut her off financially, so I'm not really sure what we will find," his father says in a soft, sad tone as he watches his son wage an internal war within himself.
Derek turns slightly in the passenger's seat and opens his mouth to speak when the car comes to a stop.
"Here we are," his father states simply as he places the car in park.
Derek turns to look out the window and he feels his heart drop as his eyes scan the old, run down building. Tears burn the corner of his eyes as he takes in the chipped paint and cracked concrete that make up the exterior of the building.
He doesn't speak and he feels as if his entire body has gone numb as he exits the car. He gazes up at the building, images of his Meredith struggling flashing before his eyes. A hand on his shoulder brings him out of his reverie, but does not recall him back to his body as he numbly follows his father into the building.
His feet feel like lead shoes as he climbs each stair, unable to suppress the feelings of guilt as he wonders how many times his tired Meredith has been forced to climb the creaky stairs while he lived in his nice apartment. Quietly and distractedly he follows his father up the several flights of stairs, each step, each passing floor, only adding to the weight supported by his shoulders, an image of Atlas in the modern world.
His father sighs as they stop before a door that looks like it has been kicked in several times in the past. "Well….here we are," he states as he pulls out the key.
Derek feels the bile slowly begin to rise in his throat as his father opens the door and a gust of the cold, winter air hits him in the face. He forces himself to follows his father into the front room of the apartment. He slowly glances around and it's not what he sees that bothers him, it's what he doesn't see. There is no television. There are no rugs or simple decorations. The only thing that sits in this room is a run down couch that he would probably never even sit on if it didn't belong to Meredith.
The tears threaten once again, but he forces them to stay at bay as he walks past his father and into the kitchen. He stops in his tracks and his face turns a pale shade of green as he sees a horde or roaches running across the counter. There is no food sitting out, so he knows that the roaches are not a result of slovenliness, but of the building itself. As he looks through the cabinets this thought is confirmed even further as there is no food to be found.
He hears his father's footsteps hit the floor behind him as he braces himself against the refrigerator. "She has nothing," he whispers in a tone laced with venom. "She has nothing and I have everything. She…and I…and this…and…" his words come to a screeching halt as the bile forces itself up his esophagus. He leans over the trashcan as he heaves violently.
His father is immediately at his side, rubbing his hand up and down his back. "It's not your fault, Derek. You cannot keep blaming yourself. All that will do is cause you to become this dark and angry person and it will benefit nobody," his father says as Derek straightens up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"What am I supposed to do?" he begs as he turns around and faces his dad. This is not a man asking a man for advice, but a son asking a father.
His dad smiles a soft smile as he shrugs his shoulders slightly. "You be there for them now. You do everything you can to make things easier for Meredith…" he says as he gently squeezes Derek's shoulder. He turns to walk out of the room, but stops as he reaches the doorway to Meredith's bedroom. "I think you should do this. You know her better than me and I'm not sure how she would feel having her teacher snoop through her things," he says before turning around and heading back into the living room.
Derek inhales deeply before taking a step forward, unsure of what to expect when he enters the room that he knows will show more of Meredith's character than any other room of the apartment.
Derek pushes the cracked door open, inhaling deeply as he does so, preparing himself for what he is about to see.
He slowly glances around the room, nothing spectacular jumping out at him. There are clothes strewn across the floor. He can't help but chuckle as this state of disarray does not shock him. He takes a step into the bedroom, the draft from the poorly sealed window chilling him to the bone. He shivers slightly as he begins to run his forefinger along the edge of a banged up dresser which he assumes holds her clothing.
His eyes take in the cracked paint of the walls and the frayed carpet with its multitudinous stains. His eyes return to the dresser to examine the several portraits that decorate its top, the only hints of happiness he has seen thus far in the apartment. The first picture is of Meredith and her friends getting ready to board the cruise ship. He can't help but note the true smile on her face as she rolls her eyes at the absurdity of her friends.
His eyes trail away from that photograph and his heart flutters as the next image that he sees is one of him and Meredith. It was one that was taken by the photographer on board, but he didn't know that it had been taken. It was the day he was eating with Mark and Meredith had come over to him and sat down in his lap. The snapshot was the moment before they kissed and the intensity in both of their eyes is undeniable. He runs his finger over her framed face, wanting to get lost in the not-so-distant past but knowing that the present requires his attendance.
The third and last picture on the dresser takes him by surprise even more. It is just a picture of him, sleeping. There is a small smile on his face as his arm reaches across the bed towards the ghost of the woman who has left him in his slumber. He has no idea when this picture was taken, so he glances down at the date stamp, gasping as he reads the date of their last night together.
That is when he knows. That is when he knows that she really did care. That it wasn't just a fling to her. That is when he knows that there was something. A something in the past that might be able to supply him hope for the future.
"Derek, son? You almost ready?" his father calls from another room.
Derek clears his throat. "Uh…just give me a minute…" he responds as he reluctantly tears his eyes away from the photos and resumes his inspection of Meredith's bedroom.
He notices a black duffle bag out of the corner of his eye as well as a computer case. He picks these items up and places them on the bed as he prepares to gather some of her things together to take to her. As he is opening the duffle bag, his eyes land on something familiar, stopping his movements all together.
Lying on the bed amongst the covers is his favorite NYU sweater. He had wondered where it had gone and now he knows. Meredith took it. He reaches over and grabs the sweater, bringing it up to his nose the scent of lavender immediately overtakes him. A smile curves his lip as he carefully folds the sweater and it becomes the first item packed.
He continues gathering essential items for Meredith until the duffle bag is bulging and he has to fight with the zipper to close it.
He sighs as he looks around him, the desolation of the apartment filling him with an inexplicable sadness. Most of the items from her apartment have fit within the duffle bag. What happened to all of her things?
He shakes his head in disbelief as he packs up her laptop, the hinges of the old computer fighting with him as he forces it closed. He scans the room once more, wondering where her books are.
"Dad?" he calls.
"Yeah?" his father answers him as he appears in the doorway.
"Have you seen any of her books?" Derek asks as he continues to scan the room.
His dad clears his throat. "No, I haven't. I don't…I don't think she has them…" he says in a sad voice.
Derek turns his head to look at his dad. "How can she not have them?" he asks in disbelief.
Derek's dad shrugs sadly as he looks at his son. "I just know that I have never seen her with them. They keep them at the library for student to use, so I just assumed…"
Derek can't take it anymore. He sits down on the edge of the lumpy bed, his head falling in his hands. "I have to fix this," he says, his voice muffled by his hands.
His father sits down next to him, resting a hand on his son's slumped shoulders. "We will son, we will fix this."
Derek nods as a car alarm begins to sound in the street. He doesn't know exactly what to do, but he does know one thing. He does know that there is no way in hell his Meredith is ever spending a night in this apartment again.