The Fight For Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

The storm had hit, fast and furious, just as promised. Seattle had never seen something quite like it, or at least, it was exceedingly rare. The blizzard had rumbled in sometime the previous morning, pounding the city with more snow than they were prepared to deal with. Many places were prepared for the snow and ice storms each year, but Seattle Washington was not. The city had put emergency measures in place for the last week, but it hadn't been enough. With ice and foot after foot of snow virtually taking over every inch of the city, everything halted. Roads were impassible, transportation ceased to exist, phone lines crashed, first responders found themselves unable to work, residents couldn't leave their homes, and panic set in. The news predicted residents to be snowed in and without assistance for a minimum of two days, but with the continued falling of snow, it was likely that would be extended. Few business had the ability to operate at all. Hospitals had long since put emergency plans into action, staffing extra workers and ensuring they planned to stay until the city was up and running again. Emergency generators supplied power to hospitals and police stations, but other than that, Seattle was dead and would remain that way until ice could be taken care of and snow could be moved.

Meredith stared out the window sometime around midnight, watching as their land was enveloped in a blanket of white. At first she'd been sure that the howling winds had drawn her out of her slumber, but soon she was proven wrong. A pain sliced across her stomach and she gasped, doubling over. Her hand wrapped around her abdomen and she shook her head, panicking. "No. No, no, no. We are not doing this now. We are not. Doing. This." She'd been in labor such a short time with Landon before blood loss clouded her memories, but she was sure what she'd just experienced was a contraction. Her mind raced. Thirty-seven weeks. She knew, age-wise, her baby would be fine if she was born. But they were at home, snowed in, and without access to an ambulance or ability to get to the hospital. If she'd fallen down the stairs and whacked her head, or passed out cold on the tile floor, she wouldn't worry. She trusted Derek with brains. He could save her life, hospital or not. But when it came to delivering babies, he was almost completely clueless and so was she. Sure, they'd both done it once or twice during med school and their first year of residency, but that was many moons ago, especially for her husband. "Please, Brynn. Not now." She whispered, unable to keep her mind from wandering back to memories of almost bleeding to death on the floor of their home when Weston was born. Her pleading both with herself and her unborn daughter was in vain, though, and she whimpered as her stomach tighten again. Tears stung her eyes as she forced herself to draw in a few slow breaths, her hand gripping her stomach.

"Crazy, isn't it? First time I think Seattle's ever seen a storm this big."

Derek's voice caused her to jump, pulling her out of her own panic. "Derek." She contemplated not saying anything, as if somehow not talking about it would make it go away.

Immediately, he knew something was wrong. "Mer?" His hands wrapped around her waist, resting on either side of her belly.

"I..." Her voice was lost, wavering. Shaky hands moved to rest on his. "I'm having contractions." Silence followed. "Real, contractions." She clarified.

Derek could feel the color washing from his face, and he shifted to step back from her, drawing in a deep breath. Instinct told him to panic, to yell, to throw something, to put his fist through the wall. He could feel her shaking, though, knowing she was crying. His movements froze, and he shoved down every screaming fear from the back of his mind. He could not panic in front of her, would not let her know how terrified he was. "How far apart are they?" His hand ran gently over the side of her belly. His words were so different from his thoughts, but he knew he had to be her strength. He could not break down in front of her, not when she was so obviously fragile.

"Derek," She couldn't stop her tears, sinking a bit into his arms. "Derek,"

He gently turned her to face him, wrapping his arms around her. Fingers ran through her hair. "I'm right here, Mer. It's okay. No matter what, it's going to be okay."

"No. I can't. I...we can't. I'm scheduled to have a c-section. I'm.." Another contraction interrupted her, and she was grateful for Derek's arms.

"Breathe," He whispered, one hand moving to rub her back. "Slow breaths. How many does this make?"

"Three," She managed, when it had passed. "Three. What time is it?"

"Twelve-fifteen. I figured you were having trouble sleeping." He caught her as she nearly collapsed in his arms. "Meredith, look at me."

"Fifteen minutes." She whimpered, gasping. Her tears turned to sobs. Not from pain. From panic. From fear. From the horrifying realization that she truly was in labor. Real labor. This baby was going to be born at home. There would be no hospital, no supplies, no monitors or emergency resuscitation equipment, no Addison Montgomery, and definitely no c-section. "Three..in fifteen minutes."

"Okay." Derek had to take a breath to calm his own nerves. "It's okay. Breathe. I need you to breathe, Mer. Please, don't cry. I've got you. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. We can do this." It was abundantly clear to him that there was no way out of it. The only person to deliver their baby was him. His wife's life and the life of their baby rested solely in his hands. The thought was terrifying. He gently eased them both to the floor, holding her until she was calm, talking her through two more contractions while they were there.

"How many babies have you delivered?" When the tears finally stopped and initial panic subsided, she thought clearly again.

"Two." He cringed at the question, feeling her stiffen a bit in his arms. "Three. Two in medical school. One during residency. But Mer, I'll call Addison. She can talk us through this. It's going to be okay."

"Three babies." She almost couldn't hear herself speak.

"Meredith, look at me." Derek's voice was firm, and he waited until her eyes found his. "I can do this. You can do this. We're going to be okay. All of us."

She stared at him for a minute, then slowly nodded. There really was no choice but to trust him. He'd been there with her through hell and back. They'd faced death over and over again, together. He'd fought for her more times than she could remember. Derek would give his life for her. He was smart, and capable, and incredibly resourceful. She had no choice but to trust that he would keep her and the baby safe. Allowing herself to be engulfed in panic would only make things worse, and she knew she had to do what she could for her baby. "Okay."

"Okay." He smiled, laying his hand on her cheek. His thumb brushed gently over her skin. "I'm going to call Addison and let her know. Why don't you see if you can get some more sleep."

Meredith knew it was going to be an absolute impossibility, but she nodded. In that moment she realized she had to hand her complete trust over to him, whether she wanted to or not. She couldn't have a baby at home on her own. Not without Derek. Derek was the reason it was going to be okay. Derek would keep them safe. Once again, she reminded herself that he'd never let anything happen to her. Slowly, she got to her feet with his help, going to their room. Sleep was impossible as she'd predicted, though, and she ended up leaning over the bed as another contraction came. Labor wasn't going anywhere. That fact was cemented as a puddle of liquid hit the floor beneath her.

Derek sunk against the wall with shaky hands as soon as she was gone, burying his head in his lap as he cried. He took that moment, needed that moment to allow himself to face his own fears and emotions. He was terrified and not at all confident in his ability to play obstetrician, but he'd made Meredith a promise that he intended to keep. It took a few minutes for him to get his head on straight, then he finally picked up his phone and dialed his ex-wife's number. The call never connected. Instead he got nothing but the phone company's message that lines were down, that service had been interrupted. His phone catapulted across the room, crashing into the wall. They really were alone with only his knowledge and incredibly limited experience, if you could even call it that. Still, he forced himself to his feet, numbly stumbling through the house as he gathered the few things he did know they would need. Common sense told him it could be many hours before the baby actually came, but then labor was completely unpredictable, and he didn't want to take chances. He made his way back to their room with a stack of towels and blankets in hand.

"What did Addison say?" Meredith was standing at their bed, swaying her hips from side to side, just a tad. Hands rested on the bed, and she groaned through another contraction, watching as Derek put everything down on the dresser. The rubbing alcohol, scissors from their first-aid supply kit, and package of shoe laces she'd bought for him just a week ago were almost enough to bring back every ounce of panic she'd had before, but she forced her fear aside. Derek had this under control. They could do this.

Derek waited until her contraction had passed, watching as she ran a hand over her belly. In that moment, he made a choice. He was the only support she had, and he wasn't about to stand there and tell her there really was no one else to help them. "She said to tell you not to worry. Walked me through a few things."

"So it's okay? You really think you can do this? She told you what to do? What about uterine rupture? Did she say she was worried?"

"Meredith." Just hearing the words threatened to break his facade. "She specifically told me to tell you not to worry."

"Okay." She seemed to accept his answer. "I'm sorry. I know you're kick-ass if I need a huge bleed controlled in my head, or if I suddenly develop a life-threatening brain tumor. But those things don't exactly translate to obstetrical skills."

"I am good with brains." Derek smiled, glancing at the clock. One in the morning. He was immensely grateful that it was the middle of the night and Landon was asleep. Supporting Meredith is all he wanted to focus his attention on. He'd shut the door of their bedroom, just in case, wanting to do everything they could to keep from waking him up.

"My water broke." She figured he hadn't noticed the towel under her feet. "I...shouldn't we...should...did Addison say we should figure out, how things are progressing? How much I'm dilating? We should find out, right? Just to make sure everything's okay? Or that the cord isn't there, or?"

"Meredith." He glanced at the towel. "Slow down." He did his best to soothe her. He'd grabbed the one obstetrical textbook he'd saved from med school before coming back, scanning what he could of the emergency childbirth section. It was meant for ER doctors, really, just in case. He thanked himself for keeping all of those books for so many years. Still, words on paper didn't offer much. She was right. They did need to figure out some sort of benchmark for her progress, even if it didn't matter much. If she didn't progress, there wouldn't be much they could do, but at least they'd know. He didn't even know if he could estimate dilation correctly, but he also knew he'd have to give it his best shot no matter how awkward it might be. "After your next contraction, I'll check you. We'll go from there."

She'd already shed the pajamas she'd been sleeping in, trading them for a nightgown with no panties, and hesitantly she laid down in their bed. She was nervous, her heart racing. "Just do it." She mumbled. "Please, just do it." Pain interrupted her, though, and she squeezed his hand when he offered it. "They're getting worse." She whimpered, tensing a bit as she rolled onto her side in an attempt to escape the contraction that was much stronger now that her water had broken.

"That's a good sign." He reminded her, gently rubbing her belly in small circles. "Slow breaths." It was hard to see her in pain with no way to offer her relief, but he did what he cold.

"This really, freaking, hurts." She mumbled when it had passed. Slowly, she let out a breath and rolled back to her back. "Get it over with." She mumbled, laying her arm over her eyes. Please tell me something good." She mumbled when he was done. She sat up when he offered his hand.

"Three centimeters." He hated the disappointed look on her face. "But this just started, Mer. Give it some time."

"I was two at my last appointment." She already wanted to give up. "I don't think I can do this."

"Yes, you can." He insisted. "You can do this." Her gasp stopped their conversation, and he let her squeeze his hand as she fought to get through the contraction. "You can do this, Mer. You're doing it. And you're doing great." He hoped that by some miracle the roads would clear by morning, that the snow would stop and they would at least be able to get her transported to a hospital. His hope was completely unfounded, he knew, considering the insane condition of the city. It didn't stop him from wanting it, though. In the back of his mind, Derek figured they were probably a good twenty-four hours out from an ambulance being able to get to them, at the very least.