Nicole's A/N: Sorry for the delay! So, we're going to tie up some loose ends in this chapter. Enjoy!


Chapter 28


The numbness wraps around Meredith. She's able to move around the house, but she still feels . . . nothing. Every inch of her being lacks the ability to feel. She doesn't feel sad, or angry, or anything. If asked to describe how she feels, she would say, "Empty."

Time blurs. She doesn't know what day of the week it is as she stands in the center of Eli's partially put together nursery. She looks around at the four walls that surround her until she finally gathers the strength to look at the crib, walking toward it and placing a single hand on the rail.

She closes her eyes, trying to feel something . . . anything, but she can't.

Then she turns around and meets a familiar set of blue eyes.

Derek doesn't say anything at first. He just stares back at her until she turns her head away, clasping both hands on the crib. The first feeling she has is the firmness of his fingers on her shoulder. She flinches and pulls away.

"No," she tells him in a firm voice, looking at him briefly.

"Okay," he mouths.


For the days that follow, the only time Derek spends time with his wife is within the four walls of his dead son's nursery. It's the only time she doesn't walk out of the room the moment he walks in. In part, he misses when she was bedridden, but he's glad she's gaining her strength back, physically at least.

Emotionally, he's not sure where she's at, since she refuses to look at him for more than a second, and she barely speaks to him. They're just passing shadows in the same house.

He's been thinking a lot about DC lately and how he really screwed everything up for no good reason. Okay, his family needed him, and they still might. However, he shouldn't have left DC like he did. He ruined a good thing, and burned some bridges he shouldn't have burned.

If only he could repair those bridges.

Lizzie's taken Zola and Bailey to town for some aunt time. Kathleen only stayed for two days before realizing Meredith and Derek were a hopeless case that couldn't be shrinked. However, Lizzie insists on staying to help. Derek appreciates his sister's kind gesture, but he wonders how she can bear to stay away from her own family for so long.

He thinks back to last winter, recollecting those dreadful months he'd been away from Meredith and the kids.

Right now, though, it would be easier to be away. Then he wouldn't have to be surrounded with memories of all that they lost.

"I'm going back to DC," he says suddenly; the words escape his mouth unplanned. He hasn't purchased plane tickets. He hasn't attempted to reach out to anyone in DC. The thought has crossed his mind, but his words aren't premeditated. Yet, they seem so right. Meredith turns toward him; at least he finally has her attention. She's become so good at pretending he doesn't exist. He's happy to have at least captured her attention.

"What?" she asks.

"I'm going back to DC," he repeats, more confidently. It's decided. He's really going to do this. He's returning to DC, and he's going to apologize to everyone who he screwed over, even President Obama. He hasn't thought through exactly how he's going to accomplish all that, but he's going to do it.

He's waiting for her response, maybe he's triggered some emotion in her. She's acted so numb, so emotionless. He would love to see some emotion out of her.

But, instead, she says, "Good. You should go and fix the mess you created. Maybe they'll even give you your job back!" She walks out of the room without looking back at him.

He's not sure what to make out of her response. Is she angry? Is she happy? Does she genuinely just want him gone?

All he knows is he's returning to DC for the first time since he was fired months ago.


It's not until Derek walks out the doors of Dulles International Airport that he realizes he has no idea what he's doing or where he's going. He flew standby to DC, catching the first available flight. And for what?

He considers attempting Obama's phone number - the one he'd had for him when he'd worked for the NIH - but he's petrified to actually dial it. Here he is, months later, returning after he'd disappointed everyone who had counted on him in Washington to make the BRAIN Initiative a success.

Surely he can't just show up at the NIH and expect to get through security, can he? He had to turn over his ID when he was fired, so he has no security clearance.

He scrolls through his contacts until he stops on a familiar name.

Bryan Davis. Bryan. The name rings a familiar bell. Even though it's only been a few months, it feels like a lifetime ago. A few contacts above Bryan is Barry. Another familiar name. He's a little surprised that he hasn't gone through and erased his DC contacts. Quite frankly, his memories of DC are not as pleasant as he'd hoped they'd be when he'd first stepped foot in the nation's capital a little over one year ago.

He was supposed to make history. He was supposed to find a cure for Alzheimer's and numerous other diseases.

None of that happened. All because he chose to fuck up. What good did it to him? It was all because Meredith was pregnant, and he couldn't stand the thought of her losing their child. The fear of the unknown had caused him to behave stupidly.

Bryan. He's the guy he'd punched in the bathroom that one night he'd gone out with some of the NIH guys for tacos and margaritas. Derek remembers clearly now. They ended on sort of a good note, though, before he left DC. Bryan confided that his wife had left him and took his kids.

A shiver bolts down Derek's spine, feeling sick at the thought of Meredith doing that to him. However, he wouldn't put it past her; after all, isn't that what her mother had done to her father?

He taps out of his contacts and into his recent messages. As much as he hates texting, he doesn't want to bug Meredith with a phone call. A text seems less hovery.

Landed in DC, he texts, in case she's worrying about him as much as he doubts.

Ok, she texts back a couple minutes later. He has developed a disdain for the word Ok, or at least when people, specifically his wife, text it.

Everything OK there? he texts back. Texting is no place to have any kind of conversation. He only uses it for brief updates. He could call her, but again, she would accuse him of hovering. Besides, he can't waste too much time making calls back home if he wants to accomplish whatever it is he's come to DC to do.

He's not sure he's figured out what that is, yet.

Yep, she replies. "Yep," is another word he hates thanks to text messaging.

Good. Keep me updated.

He waits for a response. Nothing comes, making his heart sink.

Okay, he has business to do. Actual business. That's when it dawns on him that he's there to make amends. He needs to apologize to everyone he hurt.

Maybe not quite everyone. If he remembers right, the guys he fought with before he was fired were pretty mad at him for insulting them. Maybe he should just apologize to the people that matter.

Bryan and Obama.

Obama had said that he would keep him in mind if they ever decided to expand the project to the Pacific Northwest, after all. Therefore, he mustn't hate him completely.

However, Derek knows first hand that Obama is impossible to get in contact with. He doesn't even have a direct phone number for him. The rule is that the president contacts you, you don't contact the president. Nobody has his direct line, as far as Derek knows.

So he has to start with Bryan, someone who might actually be willing to meet with him.

He taps Bryan's name.

"Derek Shepherd?" Derek doesn't know why he's alarmed when Bryan answers the call, but his heart jumps. "Why are you calling me?"

"Um . . . I'm in DC, and I was wondering if you'd be up for a drink?"

"Sure, why not? Just as long as you don't punch me in the bathroom again, you know."

"Yeah, about that . . . "

"Hey, we made up about it, remember? No hard feelings. I'm actually just about to head to lunch. Would you like to join me at Blue Duck Tavern?" He's never heard or been to the restaurant.

"Sure, where's that?"

"The address is 1201 24th Street SW."

"Okay, great. I'll catch a cab right now."

"See you, then. I can't wait to catch up."

This is easier than Derek expected.


Derek takes a deep breath as he approaches the restaurant and scopes it out. He spots Bryan quickly, even though he has more facial hair than Derek remembers. Then again, Derek is pretty scruffy right now, but he's pretty sure he hadn't bothered to shave during most of his time in DC, so he ought to look the same to Bryan.

"Derek, hi," Bryan sees him and waves him over to his table. Derek takes a seat.

"Hey," Derek says, forcing a smile, hoping Bryan won't notice.

"So, what's up? What brings you to DC?" Bryan asks. "We miss you at the NIH." Somehow Derek finds that hard to believe.

"Even if I was an ass?" Derek asks.

"When you weren't an ass, you were quite the asset if I recall correctly, otherwise Obama wouldn't have wanted you so badly for the project," Bryan reminds him.

"Hm, I suppose I wasn't what Obama expected," Derek says.

"You had a lot going on in your life. Hey, how's the new baby? Is he or she here yet?"

Derek's heart breaks and he clenches his fists. "My wife . . . she . . . we lost him," he barely squeezes out.

Bryan frowns. "I'm sorry to hear that. Is that why you're back? You're going to ask for the job back?" It's crossed his mind, admittedly, but Derek doesn't respond. Bryan says then, "You know, my ex and I lost a baby shortly after I started working here . . . it's one of the reasons I got so sucked into my work, it helped me escape my grief. I couldn't look at her after. I blamed her, even if it wasn't her fault."

"And look at you guys now," Derek says.

"I'm here, and she's in California with my very healthy and alive children, whom I'm watching grow up through a computer screen," Bryan says. "It's not a life I'd wish on my worst enemy. This job . . . yes, I love it. It's a great job that pays me more than enough . . . but what's it worth if I can't hold my daughter when she has a nightmare? When I can't teach my son how to ride a bike? What's the point?"

"Why don't you quit, then?" Derek asks.

Bryan frowns. "I . . . I can't face her," Bryan says. "Too much time has passed. We're divorced. Last time I flew out to see the kids, she wouldn't let me see them because it wasn't my turn. We can't talk to each other without fighting. And it's my fault. I let it get this bad. I'd do anything to go back and do things right." Derek's stomach turns as a waitress asks him if he wants something to drink.

"Just water," he says. He's not sure he'll be able to stomach anything more than a glass of water right now.

Bryan continues, "Look, Derek. You love your kids. I heard you on the phone with your daughter, and the way you talked to her. I can tell you're a good father. You put your family before this job; you wouldn't have to done that if your family wasn't more important than anything else in the world. My daughter barely talks to me now. She's eight, and I'm pretty sure she hates my guts."

"Oh, I doubt that," Derek says.

Bryan shakes his head. "Her mom has told her some awful things about me. That's the worst thing you can do, by the way. Tell your kids bad things about their other parent. My son is five, and he still calls me a few times a week. I figure it's only a matter of time before my ex corrupts him, too."

"I just . . . I don't know. We're barely holding it together now, and I keep thinking . . . this job, it could have been something huge. It could have been my one opportunity to change the face of medicine, and I screwed it up. I can't live with the fact that I let you all down, too. I let myself down. I let everyone down because my wife was pregnant, and then she lost the baby because of all the added stress I put on her . . . what if she's better off without me?"

"I don't know your wife, Derek, but I know you . . . sort of. You ordered tequila because it's your wife's favorite drink. That, to me, tells me something. You hated every moment of hanging out with us guys, because you'd rather be home talking to your wife. You love her, and that tells me she's a very special woman. She'd be stupid not to want you at home with her. I wouldn't let you go if I were her," Bryan says, his eyes widening. "Oh . . . I just realized how bad that sounded. I'm totally not hitting on you. That's Barry's playing field, not mine."

Derek smiles. "I didn't think . . . "

"Ha, at least I got you to crack a smile."

Derek ends up ordering a plate of nachos, but he barely eats half of them as he and Bryan continue chatting. Derek likes Bryan, and he wishes he'd spent more time talking to him when he worked at the NIH. He's a cool guy, with an interesting insight on life.

"I just wish that I could apologize to Obama," Derek confides. "He entrusted me with the project, and I completely let him down. Now, I have no way to contact him, and I doubt he's going to want to meet with me, anyway."

"Well," Bryan says, smiling. "You're lucky that you're talking to the Communications Liaison-I have contact information for Obama."

"You . . . you what?"

"I bet I can pull some strings to arrange a meeting with him, if you'd really like to apologize."

"I . . . yes, yes, that would be great. You're my hero, Bryan."

"It's been ages since I've heard that one," Bryan sighs. "My daughter used to say it when she was two or three."

Derek's heart breaks for Bryan.


Bryan follows through on his offer, surprising Derek on how quick he is to arrange Derek a meeting with Obama, and in the Oval Office of all places. Derek figures he's lucky to have come to DC on a weekend the president is in town.

He's fidgety as a White House assistant leads him to the Oval Office. He's only been in the White House a few times, since the vast majority of the NIH meetings were held either at the NIH itself or the Capitol Conference Center, when Obama was present.

He's meeting with Barack Obama in the White House's Oval Office. Holy crap. The last time he was in the Oval Office was the very first time he met with Obama, which feels like forever ago. In part, he wishes he could go back then, tell Obama that he needed to talk to his wife about all the proposals Obama was throwing his way. He was so engulfed in the excitement and possibilities that he hadn't even considered asking Meredith what her thoughts were.

Even if he had, what would she have said? She went on and on for months about how he never included her in anything, but what was the point?

The point was . . . she was his wife. His other half. His better half.

God, he's screwed everything up.

Obama isn't in the office when he enters. "He should be just a few moments," the assistant says. She's a young, dangly thing. Probably not much older than eighteen. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'm good," Derek says.

"Okay, then. Take a seat," the woman replies, and she stands at the doorway as if she's babysitting him. What, does she think he's going to go snooping in the Oval Office?

He pulls out his phone to see if Meredith has bothered to text him. Of course, she hasn't. He sends her a quick text to update her: Meeting with Obama and tying up some loose ends. Then he quickly erases what he's typed. He doesn't want her to think he's boasting that he's meeting with Obama, because he's really not trying to brag. He just wants to keep her updated, so she doesn't worry or think he's forgotten about her. So, he retypes: Just tying up a few loose ends now. He presses send, but immediately regrets it. Does that sound too forward? He waits for a reply, but nothing.

Ugh.

He fiddles with his thumbs for a bit, still waiting for Obama. Then he sends Meredith another text. I'll be home soon. Everything OK there with Lizzie and the kids?

He waits again. Five minutes later, he reads: everything's great.

Great? Does she mean everything is actually great, or does she mean that sarcastically? He also notes how she's lowercased her text. Does that mean something else? He hates texting.

Good, he replies back. Wait, would she even tell him if something were wrong? Maybe he should call Lizzie. Derek makes a note to do that later.

The door finally swings open, and enters the six-foot-one President of the United States. Derek stands up immediately. "Mr. President." He greets his president with a firm, confident handshake, though he feels like a small, defenseless child.

"Derek Shepherd," the president promptly greets him, stepping behind the Oval Office desk. "My apologies for making you wait; I had a late dinner with my wife."

Derek smiles at the idea of President Barack Obama and the First Lady sitting down for an ordinary meal, like ordinary couples.

"No problem," Derek assures him.

"It's not often I get to have a meal with just my wife, so I can't help but jump at the chance. I'm sure you understand," President Obama says.

"I do," Derek says, trying to remember the last time he and Meredith sat down for a meal, just the two of them. Lately, he can't get her to even eat at the table with him. Usually, she eats in bed or on the couch in front of the television. He's not completely innocent in that regard, either. It's been nice having his mom or Lizzie around to help prepare dinner. If one of his family members wasn't always hovering, he's not sure either he or Meredith would have eaten at all these past weeks. He probably would have just eaten cereal or a TV dinner.

"It's been a few months, hasn't it?" the president says. "You have to imagine my surprise when I received a message from Mr. Davis, indicating that you were in town and wished to meet with me. I'll admit, I almost said no."

"What changed your mind?"

"Michelle," Obama says, not cracking a smile. "She reminded me of how highly I had once spoke of you, and that if you were asking to meet with me, then it must be something important so I should give you another chance, despite how your time with the NIH ended."

"Ah, so I have the First Lady to thank for our meeting, then," Derek says. "Believe me, I really appreciate your time. I know you're busy, and I promise not to waste much of your time."

"Carry on, then," President Obama replies.

"Right . . . I just really wanted to apologize for my behavior. I was not myself when I was here," Derek says. "The Derek who went around punching people and insulting your wonderful BRAIN Initiative is not me, Mr. President."

"I'd sure hope not," Obama says. "Because that would mean I was wrong about you, and I don't like to be wrong."

Derek's cheeks warm. "You weren't wrong about me. My personal issues got the best of me. I'd just found out my wife was pregnant, and the pregnancy was high-risk . . . I hated myself for putting so much stress on her, and not being there for her. When I went back to Seattle, we were doing okay for a while, but then she lost the baby . . . and things aren't so great there, right now, either."

"You're not here to ask for your job back, are you?" President Obama says. "Because telling me your personal problems isn't boding well for me offering that back to you. Besides, I've already hired your replacement."

That makes his heart sink. "I really just wanted to say I'm sorry for letting you and this great country down," Derek says firmly.

"I appreciate your apology, Derek," Obama says. "Is that all?"

"Yes," Derek says. "That's everything I wanted to say."

"And you came all the way to DC to say that?"

"I, yes . . . I needed it off my chest. Have you ever wanted to get something off your chest? Working for the BRAIN Initiative was my dream, and I screwed it up. I screwed everything up."

"That happens, sometimes," President Obama says. "You need to move forward, Derek. You can't trap yourself in the past. You'll get stuck, and being stuck is no fun. We need to move forward with our lives, both of us. Me, I'm looking forward to retirement so I can spend more time with my wife. Have you ever thought that DC isn't where you're supposed to be? Sometimes I feel like it's not where I'm supposed to be, believe me. But I have a country to run."

"And you've made excellent progress."

"That might be destructed if the wrong guy takes my job next," Obama sighs. "What's the point, anyway? A job is just a way to support your family. It's a way to put food on the table. The truth is, we're all replaceable, and our replacements will have no problem destroying everything we stood for. At the end of our days, it's not about the work we did. It's about who's holding our hand."

Derek stares blankly, registering the deep words of the president.

"Wow, you really feel that way? After all you've fought for?"

"Derek, there's only one person truly worth fighting for," Obama says. "I think it's time for you to leave."


Meredith doesn't know what to think about having Lizzie here and not Derek.

Part of her is relieved she doesn't have to keep up appearances for Derek anymore, she's glad she can visit Eli's nursery and cry there in peace every morning, without the risk of running into Derek. The nursery is peaceful, and it's more meaningful for her than the place where they buried Eli.

She can't bring herself to think about his little body in ashes, in the ground. The nursery feels equally like unfinished business.

Meredith closes her eyes as she caresses the crib railing one last time, and listens to the sounds of her house: Lizzie is in the kitchen, having insisted on cleaning up after lunch; Zola is in the den or the playroom, talking to her dolls in quiet but excited murmurs. She has no idea where Bailey is, but she assumes he's napping.

Taking a deep breath, Meredith resurfaces in her house, closing the nursery door with a soft click. She plops herself on the couch, realizing that Zola is indeed in the playroom. She's grateful for it, because she needs a minute to recompose herself after the nursery visit.

Her quiet time doesn't last long, because Lizzie is walking in and sitting on the opposite end of the couch only a few minutes later.

"Everything is under control," Lizzie announces, relaxing against the cushions. "How was your time in the nursery today?"

Meredith sighs, looking away from her. She shakes her head, too tired to gauge if she's mocking her or she's actually concerned. There are enough concerned people in her life, so she would almost prefer mocking.

"Have you heard from Derek?" Lizzie asks, prodding again.

"Just a couple of texts." In fact, he's been updating her almost every other hour about all his movements, but Lizzie doesn't need to know how much of a pain in the ass her twin brother is. She probably already knows.

"At least he's getting better at texting," she jokes, rolling her eyes. It puts a smile on Meredith's face.

"I'm not sure it's a good thing," Meredith says, but regrets it immediately when she sees the look on Lizzie's face.

"Meredith, – "

"Lizzie, – " she echoes, but she's cut off right away too.

"What are you guys doing? You live in the same house without even looking at each other. He comes and goes whenever he pleases, you hide in your dead son's nursery...Something is really wrong, Meredith."

Before she can retort that everything is fine, Lizzie's cellphone rings, and she rolls her eyes.

"Hold that thought, I need to take this." Lizzie literally holds up her finger to stop Meredith from talking, which makes her widen her eyes. What's with people treating her like a toddler?

"Okay, then," she mutters, as Lizzie grabs her phone.

"Hey, Louis." Her voice is completely different than the one she had before. Her tone is colder than Meredith has ever heard from her. "What? Of course I'm still at Derek's!"

Meredith feels bad. Lizzie should leave, go back to her family and kids instead of staying with them, babysitting her. Her husband has every right to call and be upset.

"Lou, I don't think sending the kids across the country is a good idea. Even before considering the reason why I'm here."

Babysitting? Meredith wants to ask, but she doesn't. She keeps hearing one half of the conversation, instead.

"Stop giving me ultimatums, Louis. I'll fly home as soon as I can."

Lizzie hangs up harshly, taking a deep breath. "Man, I miss flip phones. It was much more satisfying to hang up in your husband's face."

Meredith's lips curl up, but she knows something is wrong. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm filing for divorce when I get back to Ohio."

Her eyes widen. "You what?"

"It's not because I came here, really. It started a while ago. This is just the last straw."

"What happened?" Meredith frowns at the lack of emotion in Lizzie's tone. She looks dejected.

"He said I either come home on the flight he booked for me for tonight or we're done."

Meredith's eyes widen. "He what?"

"Of course I'm going back, but only to tell him where he can shove it. I'm getting back only for the kids."

"Liz – "

"Lou has always hated Derek. From the moment we met, they never really got along. As long as he was at every holiday he kept it civil, especially since the kids love Uncle Derek, but he's not my brother's biggest fan. When I donated my nerves to him...that was the beginning of the end."

"I'm sorry, you didn't need to – "

"Of course I did. He's my twin brother, I didn't have a moment of hesitation."

"But your family was not here."

"And my kids are all almost grown. I mean, Lily is my baby and she's eight, they can take care of themselves for a few days when their father is there."

"The recovery was long."

"And my brother can be a doctor again, it was worth it. Of course Louis can't get over the fact that Derek up and left when Addison cheated, but I just want to see how fast he'll fly out of the country as soon as he signs the divorce papers."

Meredith feels a lump of sadness grow in her throat. Lizzie's marriage is over and done for good. The bitterness in her tone is a big enough red flag to show that there's nothing salvageable from it.

Are she and Derek at the same crossroad? Is it a dead end for them?

She shivers.

While Lizzie bashes her husband so easily, Meredith still can't bring herself to do it. Part of her hates Derek and his hovering, all his texts and checking up and the babysitting schedule, but the thought of leaving him forever and ripping their family apart is almost worse. Their family is already destroyed, the question is if they can stitch it back together.

"I'll go pack my crap and actually use Lou's money to get back to Cleveland, I'll call Derek to let him know. I wish I could have stayed longer. I promise I'll come visit, though; bring the rest of the gang. I'm sure they'll love all the rain."

Lizzie has already left to pack before Meredith can get a word in edgewise.


Derek falls into his hotel bed face first, drained of all his energy. He always feels tired and sluggish lately, but after the last two days filled with meaningful conversations, he's both glad he mended some bridges and exhausted to the point of passing out.

He's glad there's an early flight out of DC he can take in the morning. It's the one he always booked and never took, but he'll get on it tomorrow. He might be able to have lunch with his family. Or well, his kids. Meredith is probably not speaking to him, still.

He might have fixed some important relationships during this trip, but he has to fix the one with his wife, now. And that will not be an easy job at all.

When his phone rings, he groans. He hopes it's Meredith, but he knows that unless she's dying, she'll never call him.

He's immediately alert when he sees it's his home phone, though. He knows it could be Zola calling to say goodnight, so he picks up quickly.

"Ha! I knew it would work!"

Derek groans when he hears his sister's voice. "Liz, hi. Is anybody dying?"

"Of course not," she says, and he can almost see her roll her eyes. "How's DC?"

"Better than expected. I'm flying back tomorrow morning. I was just about to book the flight."

"That's convenient, because I have to leave this afternoon. I have a plane at six."

"What?!" He sits up in bed, staring into space, shell-shocked for a second.

"Louis said I either get home on that plane or we're done."

"Liz –"

"Derek, I'm just going back to give him divorce papers myself. And since he's paying for the ticket, I'm more than happy to use his money instead of mine."

Derek takes a deep breath, grabbing his laptop. "I can see if there's an earlier flight, so I can come home before tonight, maybe a red eye…"

"Derek, it's fine…"

"It's not fine! Meredith will be alone. I can't leave her alone!"

Panic is rising as he types in all the possible websites for air fares. His fingers are shaking as he waits for the pages to load.

"Oh my God, you're seriously looking at flights!" Lizzie sounds amused, but he's not. He's definitely not.

Derek doesn't reply, he just hopes the pages can load quickly.

"Deep breaths, Derek," Lizzie coaches. "She will be fine alone for a few hours. You sound like an asthmatic ninety-year-old."

During any other circumstances, Derek would have welcomed his sister's humor, but not right now. He can't even hear himself breathing, honestly, he can only hear Lizzie breathing.

"You too," he jabs back, making her laugh.

"I can barely breathe because I'm packing and both my hands are busy, I'm loud because the phone is really close to me. Do I sound better now that I stopped packing?"

There's still the suspicious breathing, though. And the page is not loading. He closes his eyes and he almost wants to cry.

Then it clicks.

"Meredith," he murmurs.

"Derek, she's in the den. She'll be fine."

"No, that's not what I mean. I know she's listening to this. That's her, breathing."

"What?" Lizzie says, then he hears shuffling. He can't hear their voices distinctively, especially since the websites have loaded fully, but he can hear arguing.

"You're on speaker now. Meredith was indeed lurking." Lizzie sounds something between amused and annoyed.

He can hear his wife snort. If it were another day, he would laugh, but not today. Right now is the moment when he has proof there are no other flights between DC and Seattle before six tomorrow morning.

"I don't need a babysitter, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." Meredith says, her voice more distant and lower than Lizzie's.

"There are no flights anyway," he says, unsure if he should have said the truth. Maybe he can find another way to go back. Obama surely would have given him one of his extra planes for an emergency, right?

"Good!" Lizzie almost cheers. "I'm glad there are no other flights."

"What? Are you nuts?"

"Of course not! She's indeed a big girl, Derek."

"But –"

"No buts. You know what you guys need? To get your shit together before it's too late! You don't need an evening flight or babysitters or me to stay here a little longer."

"Lizzie," Meredith cuts in before he can, but when his sister starts ranting, she can't be stopped.

"No, let me say this. You guys can still fix it. I let my marriage fall apart and it's on me, but you guys are still in love. Yes, you're broken, but there's love. It's not a façade like mine, the one I put up for my kids to pretend Lou and I are okay. We're not okay because even if we talk every day, we never really say anything meaningful. We discuss schedules and appointments and that's it. You guys meet in Eli's nursery and you say more things to each other without saying anything at all."

It feels like a stab wound whenever somebody mentions Eli, but here it feels like a very large, very deep knife. Right in his chest. Getting shot almost hurt less.

"Stop pretending and just face this hell you've been thrown into. You guys can make it. And if you can't, at least you'll know this is how it was supposed to be."

"Lizzie –" He wants to tell her something about her failing marriage, about not meddling, anything at all, but she leaves him no room.

"Derek, you know I love you, but you're being a jerk. Meredith, he's just trying to help."

Derek swallows thickly, his eyes misty. "I'm sorry, Liz."

"I'm not the one you should apologize to. Take your flight in the morning, Meredith and the kids will be okay."

"Alex is supposed to come over for dinner." Meredith offers as a compromise.

"Will he –"

"No, he won't stay the night, but he'll help carrying Bailey to bed. They will be fine. Right?" Lizzie speaks before Meredith can say anything.

"What about all the hours in between?"

"Bye, Derek," Lizzie says, then she cuts the conversation short.

He has a lump in his throat as he holds the silent phone in his hand, trying to steady his breathing. The idea of Meredith and the kids alone freaks him out. He should never have done this before Meredith was fully healed.

Also, he never really liked Louis, but now the guy is blacklisted. If hurting his sister wasn't enough, now he's hurting his family too, and that is out of every line.


Irene's A/N: Who doesn't love Lizzie? Though she surely has her own problems, uh? What do you think about Derek's decision to go back to DC, then? Was it smart or the last straw? Thank you for your patience and reading on!