Irene's A/N: It's a Christmas miracle!
I know it's been forever but between me moving back to Italy, and our busy lives as adults that are not conducive to writing, this chapter took forever to come alive. We figured Christmas was a good time for a present.
We came full circle with the prologue, but how will the story develop? Read below to find out! Enjoy, and thank you for reading, still!
Chapter 36
Meredith grabs the first book on her bedside table, opening it to a random page, just to keep her hands busy, to keep her brain from spinning too fast. She hears the shower come to life behind the closed bathroom door and she heaves out a loud sigh, putting the book down. Trying to read is pointless anyway.
She goes downstairs instead, making sure she avoids the loud cracks on their floor, so the kids will stay asleep. She stares at her suitcase, forgotten in the hall, and retrieves it, bringing it upstairs with the same quiet movements. She's lucky she packed light.
Was her subconscious trying to tell her she wouldn't be gone too long? Or that maybe Derek is right when he says he still loves her?
She knows he loves her, or at least part of him loves her; she can say the same, though. Part of her really loves Derek, unconditionally. She hasn't said the words out loud in weeks, maybe months, but she does love him, and maybe they should stop this constant tension between them. Maybe she should give in. Even if he drives her nuts, she knows it comes from a place of love, and they need to compromise.
No running. Trust each other. Yeah, she needs to work much harder on those two post-it statements. She can definitely stay tonight.
She makes it back in the bedroom, but the shower is still running. Meredith leaves the suitcase; she'll unpack in the morning. She slips back between the covers. She wants to go to bed and forget what happened; forget about the dead kitties and their previous fight, forget their kids being forced to grow up too fast, tackling issues they can barely grasp at their age, yet being champs at dealing with all of it.
Sometimes, Meredith believes Zola and Bailey are dealing with Eli's loss much better than she is. She's not sure where Derek is standing at this point, but for her, the scar is as fresh as a two-hour post-op.
The shower stops running and Meredith braces herself for Derek showing up, grabbing the book again, pretending to read.
Yet, when the door opens, she cannot look away.
Derek is standing at the threshold, shirtless, toweling his hair dry. The drawstrings of his pajama pants are untied and he's barefoot. She sees him gulp, his hands bringing down the towel, leaving his hair a mess of wet curls, sticking out in all directions.
Derek looks beaten, just as much as she feels beaten. She cannot look away. His eyes fixate on her, so blue, so honest, and she can't blink, she can't think. When he smiles at her, she knows he's still Derek, the same Derek she brought home from Joe's that very first night, and the guy she fell in love with so long ago. Still damaged, maybe more broken, but he's still Derek.
She smiles back.
It's a gentle smile, barely there, but it eases the tiredness and the grief from his features. He might still be tired to the bone, but just that simple curve of his lips eases everything, maybe even some of the grief and the sadness in her own heart.
He's the one that breaks the spell, tossing his towel on the dresser and turning his back to her to grab a t-shirt from the top drawer. She watches the muscles and tendons of his back disappear under the fabric, hiding his smooth skin, lately a fond memory for her.
She hasn't touched her husband in a long time.
She sees Derek stop and exhale, grabbing the towel again and taking it back in the bathroom. Meredith can hear him brushing his hair, then he comes through the door, still looking disheveled, but not as much as before. He still looks good. He still looks like her Derek.
Her Derek, who is slowly walking out of their bedroom, instead of walking towards the bed.
Before she can think, her lips start moving.
"I believe you," she says, exhaling loudly after that, wishing she could take it back. But maybe not.
"What?" he murmurs, rooted to the spot. She can't see his face, and maybe it's easier like this, explaining her feelings to his back. She's not even sure what she's feeling anymore. She should have kept quiet.
"I believe you when you say you still love me," she says, lowering her gaze to the comforter, to the back cover of the book still in her hands. Anywhere but into the eyes she feels staring at her.
After what feels like hours, she looks up, and she sees Derek. This is really her Derek, sparkling eyes and all, the real Derek. She almost wants to cry at the sight.
"I want to trust you, I really do," she murmurs. "But you know I'm horrible at it. I was never truly, unconditionally loved before you, before the kids … It scares me."
Derek sighs, but the light in his eyes doesn't dim. He takes a step towards the bed, then another, until he's sitting on the edge, on his edge, tongue-tied. She sees him try to say something, but he always catches himself before the words come out.
She can feel his energy, his warmth. She can smell his shampoo, so familiar and so foreign. He hasn't been this close to her at bedtime in a long time.
Their fingers almost brush as he reaches out, his eyes still onto hers, practically unable to break the spell he has created. But he doesn't quite make it there, retreating his hand before they can actually touch.
Meredith is the one that reaches out then, the one that makes the first step, and tangles their fingers. Her grip is tentative, gentle, giving him enough room to escape if he wishes. But Derek stays. His fingers tighten around hers, holding on, not letting go.
She can barely blink as they stare at one another, the quiet of the house broken only by the sound of their breathing and the gentle hum of the air conditioning. Yet, she's not cold. Derek's hand into hers is a furnace of warmth, slightly rough and solid as she remembers, yet almost a foreign weight into hers. It feels like another life, the last time they were holding hands. Was Eli still alive when it happened? Because if he was, it really was a different life.
Neither of them breaks the spell though, they just stare at one another, in silence. And sometimes, this is exactly what they need to function.
Derek has always loved staring at Meredith. It doesn't matter if they are together or not, whenever she's in his visual range, he's drawn to her, moth to flame. This is no different. Especially when his hand is touching hers, after so long.
She looks tired, but beautiful. He can see some of the walls she has erected after Eli's passing have been breached, but he knows they're not down yet. He knows he's still not fully welcomed back into her arms, her life, her bed, even.
As beautiful as this is, he knows they cannot do this all night. They need sleep, they need to keep moving. He wants to enjoy this feeling for a minute longer, maybe two, memorize Meredith's face all over again, but he hopes she'll be the one to pull away.
It surprises him when she doesn't, when she stays, when she doesn't move a muscle, just lingers within his hold.
He wants to hug her so much, never let her go, instead, he takes a deep breath and untangles their hands.
A chill runs down his spine. Meredith leaves her hand in the same spot he left it, reaching for him. It's not desperation, but he's not sure what it is, either. What he does know is that he has to respect her boundaries, she's the one that has to make the first step.
Reluctantly, he stands up, ready to retreat to his usual spot on the couch, even though his brain is screaming at him to stay.
Apparently, and for the first time in forever, his brain and Meredith's are on the same page.
"Stay," she murmurs, her voice thick with lack of use, her eyes meeting his to reinforce her statement. "Stay here tonight."
"Mer, –" he begins, but she stops him before he can figure out how to defend his argument.
"The kids are in their own beds, for once. You can stay."
He can see the honesty in her statement, the vulnerability behind her words. But he wants to be sure.
"What if Zola wakes up? She got used to sleeping next to you. Bailey too, probably."
"Then they can squish in the middle like they did when they were little. There's enough room for all of us."
He sighs, studying Meredith's face again. He wants to, he really does, he just has no idea what this means. A mere four hours ago he was screaming at her if she wanted a divorce because she was packing her crap and moving to Alex's and now she wants to share a bed? He's thoroughly confused.
"Please?"
His heart wins over his brain, this time, and maybe this is how he has to play this. Let his heart dictate what he wants, screw logic.
There's no logic in grieving anyways.
Derek sits down on the edge of the bed, as far away from Meredith as possible. Before he can think, he makes a move to take off his shirt, as usual. It's a habit so ingrained in his head he almost gets all the way through before he can stop himself.
Usually, Derek is a furnace. Meredith's body next to him is always cold, and she huddles to him for warmth. In the summer, it means going shirtless or waking up in the middle of the night, drenched and trying to pry Meredith off him to walk around and cool off before he can get to sleep again. He has never had this problem on the couch, so far.
But tonight, tonight he can keep the shirt. He knows Meredith won't roll anywhere near him. The t-shirt can stay.
He lies down, turning to Meredith. She's still looking up at him, a frown of disapproval on her face.
"You can take your shirt off, Derek. I know it makes you more comfortable."
"I'm fine. I'll be fine."
"Crap, now you sound like me," she says, shaking her head, an amused smile on her lips. It's tiny, but it's there. She looks so much more relaxed than he feels. "Derek, really, don't be shy. How many times have I seen you naked?"
Not enough, he wants to say, but he catches his tongue. "I'm usually not on the edge of the bed naked."
"Then come closer," she says, almost impatient, patting the mattress next to her.
Derek hesitates, waiting for her resolve to crumble, but she keeps staring at him. She gently shakes her head as he lingers, muttering something that sounds like "at least you don't have scars all over your stomach and you can be shirtless" which almost breaks his heart. He can't believe she's worried he doesn't find her attractive anymore.
Yet, he remembers after Bailey was born how self-conscious she had been about it, how he had to make her believe. Maybe he needs to do the same now.
Slowly, but without making a production of it, Derek takes off his t-shirt, tossing it on the armchair, then turning to Meredith. He scoots in the middle of his side of the bed, closer to Meredith, so close that they can touch if they want to, but he doesn't. He stays on his side, as he enters the covers.
"I have scars, too." He turns to look at her, sees her eyes widen slightly. His fingers go to his sternum then, tracing the now faint line of Cristina's scalpel opening his chest, then to his left side, where the bullet had pierced his lung. His fingers linger longer on that one, going back to the memories of his own hospital stay, his own brush with death.
They have come too close.
Meredith is clearly thinking that too, because she reaches for his hand and gives it a brief but strong squeeze, before she reels herself back to her side of the mattress. She's laying in the middle too, staring at the ceiling, controlling her breathing.
"I'll turn off the light then, goodnight," she says, turning to him one last time before the room is plunged in darkness.
"Goodnight," he says, his eyes adjusting to the moonlight streaming in from the blinds.
He knows sleep won't come easily tonight.
Derek closes his eyes, yet his whole body is alert, tuned to Meredith's frequency. She's quietly rustling around, trying to find a comfortable position. He can feel the mattress dip under his left arm, then he almost jerks in surprise when he feels Meredith's freezing toes touch his calf.
He almost hears her giggle at that.
"Sorry," she murmurs, but he knows she's not. She always does that on purpose, and the familiarity of it brings a smile to his face.
Derek hears Meredith slip deeper into the covers, dragging some of the blankets away from him. He turns on his other side, towards her, and she feels much, much closer than she did a second ago. The bed is warmer, and he can smell the lavender on her. Also hints of watermelon, from Bailey's bath.
He has missed sharing a bed with Meredith, the quiet presence of his wife asleep – or almost there – as he drifts off as well. As comfortable as their couch is, he doesn't want to get confined to it ever again.
Slowly, Meredith's restlessness and almost constant movement slow down, and he can hear her breathing pattern shift into sleep. He listens to her, slowly mimicking her breathing to trick himself into sleep.
It works like a charm. Almost as if no time at all had passed.
When Derek's brain awakens, it is overwhelmed by Meredith.
His nose is buried in lavender, his body warm, connected to equally warm flesh, and he knows he's still dreaming. He'll wake up and will find out that the blanket has fallen off the couch and he's shivering in the morning chill of their living room. So, for the time being, he's adamant to enjoy the warmth and the lavender.
He moves even closer to the source of warmth, to the Meredith of his dreams. She molds into him, and he buries his nose under her earlobe, nuzzling away a strand of hair, scented with lavender. She feels so real, the memory of this so vivid he doesn't want to wake up, ever.
His lips find her soft skin, lingering for a kiss, his hands roaming the flesh of her midsection. He can feel the gentle weight of her hands joining his, familiar. Yet, Derek is sure his brain is tricking him, because he can feel the raised flesh of her C-section scar much more vividly than it used to be. Fresher.
Is he remembering Bailey's C-section? How Meredith felt like a month or so after it?
No, this doesn't feel right.
Derek forces his eyes open and realizes that he's not dreaming this. His hands are indeed touching Meredith's stomach under her t-shirt, his nose is buried in her hair.
Fuck, he screwed up. He wanted her to make the first move and his unconscious body decided to hug her. And it's not even a friendly hug, they are spooning, not an inch of space between them. Her warmth is real, the lavender scent all around him is real. It's her.
Quietly, but as quickly as possible, Derek tries to untangle from Meredith, give her some well-deserved space. But Meredith has no intention of letting him go. She stiffens, but her hold on his hand tightens, she pulls him closer to her.
"Don't. Please, don't leave me," she says, her voice filled with sleep, barely above a murmur. Yet, they're so close he can feel the vibration of her words on his skin, against his chest.
"I won't," he says. He has no intention to. He really doesn't. "I will never leave you."
His body relaxes, and so does Meredith's. He missed this. He missed holding her like this, so unguarded, so pure.
His confession of love is on the tip of his tongue, but Meredith jerks awake before he can say the three words to her.
She turns around in his embrace, facing him, yet the hostility he imagined would be there is nowhere to be found. He can't even see fear, just endless green eyes, filled with questions, maybe longing.
Meredith is still warm against him, even though their embrace is looser than it was when they woke up. He can feel her breath on his face, their noses almost brushing. She's barely into focus, as close as she is.
She doesn't say anything, just stares at him, and he lets her. He lets her dictate the pace, decide on the next step they should take. He keeps his words at bay, keeps his desire to close the space between them and kiss her to himself, allows Meredith to make a decision. She knows where he stands by now.
But Meredith doesn't move. Not for a long time. Her eyes are into his, her hands firmly resting on his hips, holding him there, in the moment.
She also never leans in for a kiss, but pulls away.
It's not abrupt, it's more of a slow, steady untangling, limb by limb, inch of skin by inch of skin.
"The kids are going to be awake soon," she says, her words warm on his face. "We need to start getting ready."
It's the lamest excuse, but he lets her go. If staring at each other in silence, while embracing, is all she can take right now, that's what he'll give her. This is thousands of times better than the couch, the fighting, or Meredith packing a suitcase and leaving for Alex's.
Yes, it's not ideal, but at least it feels like their relationship is moving forward, that they're not stalled into a pit of grief. Yes, it's there, he knows the grief is right below the surface, but at least they're taking steps. Whether small and unsteady doesn't matter, they're steps; anything is better than their relationship crumbling into pieces.
Meredith tries to keep herself busy by making coffee, glad that the kids are still in bed. It's been quite an eventful evening for them, and they need their rest.
She goes in the office, where Derek has put the litter box and the kittens, watching as Sunny Wyatt gently dotes on them, cleaning them and letting them feed undisturbed. Her yellow eyes pierce hers, almost thankful, but then Meredith leaves, afraid she'll start sneezing again.
Meredith smiles when she spots the Benadryl box on the counter. Derek is still Derek.
She sighs loudly, almost missing his arms around her. She knows why she bolted, yet she wants to hit herself and go back to bed. That was stupid of her, leaving him there.
It's seven-thirty, but the sun is already shining brightly as she looks out of the french doors into their backyard, coffee in hand. Gone is the wild storm of the previous night, the only signs of it are the wet patio furniture and the few scattered branches on their deck.
Meredith is wondering what happened to the dead kittens, what they should do with them, but her mind is quick to go back to Derek, standing in the pouring rain with her, and then his warmth in their bed. A bed they haven't shared in weeks.
Almost as if she had summoned him, she can hear his gentle steps coming downstairs. He's also making the extra effort of keeping the kids asleep. She hears a cabinet opening, the familiar sounds of him getting a mug and pouring himself coffee.
She feels his presence behind her before she can turn around and face him, his warmth from their bed seems to linger around him. He comes to stand next to her then, his elbow brushing her in the process as he takes the first sip from his mug. Meredith shivers at the unexpected contact, but relishes the warmth of him, so close to her.
"How are the cats doing?" he asks, glancing quickly at the door of his office.
"We should probably take them to the vet, make sure they're okay," she says, staring out of the window to avoid his soft, gentle gaze.
"We'll need to find a different vet," he snorts.
Meredith doesn't recognize what Derek is referencing at first.
"Yeah, we haven't had a pet since Doc," she recalls.
"Well... yeah," he says. "We didn't make a good choice with Doc's vet."
"Maybe he would have had a better chance with a different vet," Meredith says solemnly, recalling Doc's sad ending.
"Mhm," Derek grunts, and then she remembers.
"Oh. Yeah. The ice cream. I forgot about that."
Derek says nothing further on the subject.
She has dreaded today, being off at the same time as him, but now, actually spending a whole day with Derek doesn't sound too bad, even if she has ruffled his feathers with the memories of Finn. Maybe they will enjoy the day.
"I'm sure the kids want to make sure these three are okay," she adds, trying to diffuse the awkward silence.
Derek nods at her, sipping his coffee, but before they have time to plan their day more thoroughly, Bailey shows up in the kitchen, looking well-rested and the adorable level of disheveled only a toddler can accomplish.
Zola comes down for breakfast a mere ten minutes later, and by then the usual preparation routine is in full swing. Meredith empties the dishwasher while Derek gets busy with some scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, the aroma filling the house quickly.
In between all this cooking, though, Derek manages to brush against her more than once. It's small, light touches, and they almost look accidental, but Meredith knows they're not. She can see it in his eyes they're not. He's staying purposely close to her, so it's inevitable that they end up touching.
Yet, Meredith enjoys it, the thrill of such unexpected contact, so she manages to counteract in her own way.
By the time they're cleaning up breakfast and the kids are already upstairs, finding their clothes, the touches are nothing but accidental.
Derek puts his hand on her back as he reaches for a dish towel, then again, his hand is on her shoulder as he boosts himself to put away a clean glass. She manages to get a few touches in, while she squeezes between him and the open fridge door, and also when she reaches around him to open a drawer.
The touches escalate quickly, because at some point, she feels his hand on her ass. And he even dares to give it a squeeze.
"Derek!" she yelps, pretending indignation at the childish behavior. He's clearly not buying it. The smug smirk on his face tells her he's not buying it.
"What?"
"You just grabbed my ass," she hisses.
"Did I?" He smiles innocently, keeping up with wiping down the counter.
She shakes her head, and knows that the best revenge will be an eye for an eye. Or ass grabbing for ass grabbing.
She's presented with the perfect opening while he bends to pick up a fallen piece of toast from the floor. She gives his ass a firm squeeze and he jumps up in surprise, then burst into laughter.
"We're even," she says, her turn to smirk.
Before she can think, she leans into him for a kiss, stopping herself when she realizes how long it has been since they have actually kissed. Or bantered like this.
The thought is startlingly sobering.
Derek watches Meredith back up and put some distance between them after the almost-kiss. He knows it's too soon, but it's nice to find a sliver of their playful dynamic still alive, in spite of everything that has died.
But, he knows they're not quite there, yet. And he's still worried about Meredith.
He hopes she's not just putting up a façade for him, while she's hurting inside. He hopes she's not forcing these steps, but that they're coming from her heart, from a place of slow but steady healing. He would hate himself otherwise.
Derek can still see some faint scars and scabs on her hands, maybe even burns, and the lingering fear that something is wrong is still there, patiently lurking in the back of his mind. He knows Meredith values her life, but heck, she did try not to live. Twice.
He doesn't know what to think.
"Do you want me to come with you to the vet?" she asks, out of the blue, probably to diffuse the tension they have created in the room.
"I think it might be easier, yeah. Especially if the kids want to come too."
"Okay, then you guys will have to wait for me to get back. I need to go buy some eggs, I think we ate them all this morning. It shouldn't take me long."
Derek frowns, surprised, but he decides to drop this. He's trying to let go of many things to keep this peaceful atmosphere between them.
"Okay, while you're out, can you get some of my cereal?"
"I'll add that to the list," she smiles.
He makes a note to research vets in Seattle, because the thought of Finn Dandridge's arms around Meredith still makes him nauseous. Even if it was a million years ago.
Derek doesn't know she's still seeing Dr. Wyatt, and Meredith prefers to keep it her little secret. It's better that way. Therapy has never been easy for her, but, at this point in her life, she feels it's necessary. She can't continue feeling so horrible all the time. She has to find a way to keep moving forward, so she sneaks out to see Dr. Wyatt once a week. She tries to go when Derek is off, so she doesn't have to worry about running into him at the hospital.
"We found kittens," she tells Dr. Wyatt.
"Aw, adorable. Do you have pictures?"
She shows Dr. Wyatt a photo of Zola kneeling beside Sunny Wyatt, who's nursing her three kittens.
"That's a happy little girl," Dr. Wyatt comments. "Have you named them yet?"
"Not yet. I'm sure Zola will have names for them by the time I get home." Meredith smiles, but immediately frowns, remembering the image of her daughter and son beside the dead kittens. "Two died," Meredith tells Dr. Wyatt. "We found Sunny, the mama kitty, beside the two dead kitties. These three were hiding behind the bush next to Eli's grave."
Dr. Wyatt also frowns. "And how did that make you feel?"
The dreaded question. Meredith hates it, but lately she's been asking herself that question. Dr. Wyatt has suggested she remain in-tune with her feelings and responses, especially when something happens that might blatantly trigger her, like the dead baby kittens did and the new mom who died in the ER on her first day back to work. She needs to learn to deal with these triggers without running, otherwise she doesn't know how she'll ever manage to be a surgeon again.
"I wanted to run away," she admits, "but I couldn't leave."
"Why not?"
"Because of Sunny," Meredith says. "I could feel her pain."
"And Zola and Bailey? Derek?"
"What about them?" Meredith asks, confused by the question. "Yes, they saw them, too. Actually, Zola and Bailey found them."
"That must have been confusing for them. Traumatizing," Dr. Wyatt responds.
Meredith sighs. "Not more traumatizing than anything else that's happened to them this summer. Their entire childhood is ripped from them. They're going to need so much therapy when they're older. Sometimes I wish they hadn't been stuck with me for a mother."
"Why do you feel like that?" asks Dr. Wyatt.
"I'm a crappy mother whose mother was a crappy mother. Crappy mothers run in my family. I have no idea why I let Derek convince me to have children," Meredith says, regretting her words at once. She loves her children. She would never regret having Zola and Bailey, but she'd always known she would not be a good mother. She never thought she would be a mother before she met Derek. Mothering was not in her genes.
She feels a sudden storm of rage inside her, and she doesn't know where it's coming from.
Dr. Wyatt remains calm, though. She always does, and it irritates the hell out of Meredith.
"Meredith, have you ever considered journaling? It sounds like you have a lot of pent up anger."
"I used to keep a blog," she says. "I showed it to Derek before everything blew up."
"Maybe you should start blogging again," Dr. Wyatt suggests. "Writing down feelings can be helpful to releasing pent up emotions. Many people find writing to be therapy."
"I thought that's why my insurance was paying you?" Meredith snorts.
Dr. Wyatt chuckles. "I can't be there all the time, though. However, you can write any time you want."
"I'll think about it," Meredith says.
Dr. Wyatt looks at the clock. "We have about five minutes left. Is there anything in particular you'd like to discuss. How are things with Derek?"
Meredith's heart drops.
"He's hover-y. I can feel his eyes on me all the time. Watching me."
"Well, he loves you. When you love someone, you generally can't take your eyes off them." Dr. Wyatt winks, smiling.
"I know he loves me," Meredith says. "Sometimes I think he loves me too much."
"You can never love too much, Meredith."
"I'm not sure I agree." Meredith frowns.
Dr. Wyatt checks the time again. "It looks like our session is up. I'll see you again next week? Next week, why don't you write a blog post? You don't have to publish it, but I would like if you brought it with you to share an excerpt. You don't have to share it all."
"I'll see if I have time to write something," Meredith replies, and she stands up to leave.
The idea of writing again circles in Meredith's mind as she strolls down the halls of Grey-Sloan. She honestly has no idea where to again. She's not even sure if she remembers how to write. It used to come so naturally to her; now the concept of forming words and sentences about her feelings seems like a foreign language.
"Meredith! I didn't know you were back." Callie and Sofia are at the entrance as she's exiting. Sofia's wearing a Hello Kitty backpack.
"I'm not. I just had a check-up," she fibs; she's not sure if she wants Callie Torres to know she's in therapy, especially since she knows how Torres can run her mouth. If Callie knows, soon the entire hospital will.
"Oh," Callie says. "How are you? I haven't seen you in so long. We should catch up sometime soon."
"I'm pretty busy," Meredith replies, feeling a slight relief that she has an excuse to bypass catching up with Callie right now. "I need to stop by the grocery store then find a vet."
"Did you just say a vet?" Callie looks perplexed.
"Yeah, we found kittens outside our house."
"KITTENS?!" Sofia's attention is piqued. "Mommy, I want to see them. Please! Please, Mommy!"
Callie grunts. "You said the k-word. Sofia has been wanting a k-word for a long time."
Meredith mouths, "Sorry."
"Please, Mommy. Please! Can we? Can we see the kittens?" Sofia flashes pleading eyes at her mother while tugging at her hand.
Callie relents. "Only if Meredith says it's okay."
"Yeah, sure. Why don't you stop by later today? After we get back from the vet and make sure they're healthy and all? Then we'll know more about them, too," Meredith offers, watching Sofia's eyes light up.
"We're gonna take one home with us, right, Mommy?"
Callie gives Meredith a look of defeat.
"Yeah, I have to get going." Meredith mouths the word "'Sorry" again, and moves past the mother-daughter duo.
The whole Grey-Shepherd crew accompanies Sunny Wyatt and her babies to their vet appointment. Derek found an animal hospital not far from the hospital with excellent online reviews. He figured they were safer going to an actual animal hospital over a private practice.
A vet tech shows them to a room. She asks them to fill out a basic questionnaire about the kittens and Sunny Wyatt, then she tells them the vet will be with them shortly and leaves.
"Oh, God, what food did you buy, Derek?" Meredith asks, reading over the question about their current diet.
"I don't remember - it said Science Diet or something on it. I remember thinking it must be good if it's a science diet," Derek says.
"Okay." She writes Science Diet on the paper with Derek looking over her shoulder.
"Hmm, maybe I should fill this out. I'm not sure they're going to be able to read your handwriting," Derek chuckles, but Meredith isn't amused. Her nose is already scratching again — the Benadryl she took this morning has already worn off. She'll have to ask someone to write her a prescription for a stronger allergy medication if the cats will be sticking around. Maybe she can convince Callie to take them all.
Then she looks at Zola holding Sunny Wyatt, Sunny purring a lulling rhythm. She watches as Bailey helps Derek get the kittens out of their carrier. Derek holds one and Bailey the other. It amazes her how gentle her kids are already with the kittens. She's not sure if they're supposed to be holding the babies, but Sunny Wyatt doesn't seem bothered by it.
A long-haired brunette wearing a white coat and scrubs walks in. Meredith's already read Dr. Lockwood, DVM on her coat before she says, "Hello, I'm Dr. Lockwood, and what a beautiful little kitty family you have here."
Derek clears his throat. "I'm Dr. Shepherd, and this is my wife, Dr. Grey. And our children, Zola and Bailey. And, of course, the reason we're here today — Sunny, and her babies."
"Has your cat previously been seen by a vet?" Dr. Lockwood asks, looking at her iPad.
"Uh, well, she's not our cat, exactly," Meredith responds. "She lives on our land, and we found her babies last night."
"She's very sweet for being a stray," Dr. Lockwood observes, stroking Sunny Wyatt's ears. "Are you planning on keeping her?"
"Can we, Mommy and Daddy?" Zola pipes up. "Please!"
Meredith sniffles. "I'm afraid I'm on the verge of overdose on Benadryl."
"I can recommend some great rescue groups in the area, if you'd like," Dr. Lockwood offers.
Zola sticks her lip out, and Bailey mimics her. They melt Meredith's heart with the kittens in their hands. She can't bear the thought of stealing away the little happiness they've had this summer.
"No, I think we want to keep them for now. I think it'd be best if the kittens went to people we know, so Zola and Bailey can visit," Meredith says. "Callie and Sofia are coming over later to look at them."
Derek raises his brows. "You didn't mention that Callie wanted a kitten?"
"Well, I don't think Callie does, but Sofia has been asking for one for weeks. I ran into them earlier at the hospital and said they could come over after the vet appointment," Meredith says.
"You should have told me," Derek says.
"I didn't think it mattered," Meredith replies nonchalantly, meeting Dr. Lockwood's concerned look.
Derek lets it go. He and Meredith have talked more than they have in weeks since discovering the kittens. He welcomes all communication with his wife, and he's glad that Sunny and her babies have provided their family a distraction from all the pain and turmoil they've experienced. However, he wishes Meredith could communicate fully and completely with him. They never were the best communicators, but they were doing better before losing Eli. Now it's like they're back at square one. Negative square one, maybe.
"It's perfectly fine if you'd like to find the kittens homes on your own, but just so you know, the kittens need to be with their mom until they're at least eight weeks old. I'm estimating them at about [seven to ten days old]. Their eyes are open, but they won't start eating solid food for around another three weeks."
"How do we know they're ready to eat solid food?" Meredith asks; Derek admires the interest she's taking in the kittens' lives, in spite of them making her sneeze.
"Their mother will know and start bringing them to the food dish," Dr. Lockwood replies. "A mother's intuition is always right," she adds.
Derek smiles at Meredith, who blushes slightly.
"Absolutely," Meredith says. "And vaccines, the kittens need vaccines, right?"
"Yes, they do, and since Sunny is a stray, we'll want to get her a FVRCP and rabies shot. We'll also want to test her for FELV and FIV. The kittens are too young to show accurate test results, but the good news is if Sunny is negative, then there's almost a one hundred percent chance the kittens are, too."
"FIV and FELV?" Derek asks, worried that the cats might have a disease that he's exposed his children to.
"FIV is like cat AIDS." Derek shutters, and shares a panicked look with his wife. "Oh, don't worry, it's not contagious to humans," the vet assures, and a sense of relief floods Derek. "It just means the infected cat has a weakened immune system. It spreads through cat bites to other cats. FELV is Feline Leukemia, and it's more contagious, as it spreads through saliva or from mother to baby. If you have a cat with FELV, you can't have a non-FELV cat, while FIV and non-FIV cats that are non-aggressive can live in harmony together."
"Are there cures or treatments for either disease?" Meredith asks.
"There are not, but there is a vaccine to prevent FELV in non-FELV cats," the vet replies. "Now, I'd like to vaccinate Sunny today, give her a dose of dewormer, and we'll talk about the kittens' vaccine schedule, as they're too young to vaccinate today. Now, you said you're doctors. What are your specialties?"
"I'm a neurosurgeon, and my wife is a general surgeon," Derek says.
"Surgeons, eh? I think it's safe to say I can show you the proper injection sites, and send the vaccines and dewormer home with you to save you a few trips. I'm sure it can't be easy to make it here with your busy schedules," Dr. Lockwood responds.
"That'd be fantastic," Meredith says.
"Alright, then. One last thing, are you planning on spaying Sunny and her babies? I always recommend it."
Meredith's face whitens. "You mean take her ability to have future babies away?"
"Well, with the rising cat population and the number of cats in shelters without homes, it's the best option," Dr. Lockwood says.
"Absolutely. That's a good idea, isn't it, Meredith?" Derek asks his wife.
"I'm sorry," his wife mouths and storms out of the room.
Meredith's heart races. Her mind tortures her with images of baby Eli.
"Legally, I can't tie a woman's tubes without her consent, so physically, you are still able to have children," Addison's voice rings in her head.
"But I shouldn't," her own voice echoes.
She thinks of poor Sunny Wyatt, and her beautiful little kittens. Who were they, the humans, to tell her she can't have more babies?
With the rising cat population and the number of cats in shelters without homes, it's the best option. The human population was also rising, and so many children were in foster care without homes. People still chose to have babies.
Meredith and Derek had wanted to have their own baby before adopting Zola. Eventually, they'd come to realize that it didn't matter how they started a family. A family was a family, regardless of how it came to be. Blood wasn't everything.
She's being irrational, she thinks. Surely, Derek wouldn't hesitate to tell her that. Of course the sensible thing would be not to compare herself to a cat. Over the past couple months, Sunny Wyatt had become her rock. She's seen so much of herself in that darn cat, and she doesn't even like cats. But Sunny … she's something else. She's not just any cat. The timing is too convenient of her arrival into her life.
A lone tear escapes her eye, and she looks up at the name plaque on the wall. Dr. Samantha Lockwood. She's standing in front of her vet's office. The door is open, and she sees a photo on the wall as plain as day: It's a photograph of Dr. Lockwood, McVet a.k.a. Finn Dandridge, and two Saint Bernards. Her heart stops.
"Dr. Grey?" a female voice comes from behind. She looks around; it's Dr. Lockwood.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left the room like that," she says. "I just … I just, how do you know Finn Dandridge?"
"He's my fiance, why?"
"I need to go," Meredith Grey says.
The vet looks perplexed. "We finished with the vaccines, and I gave your husband the vaccine schedule. They're all in the lobby." Meredith starts running down the hall. "It's that way," Dr. Lockwood hollers after her.
Meredith turns around and runs the opposite direction.
The ride home is more or less silent after Derek says, "I told her we'll discuss spaying Sunny and the kittens later. We don't have to decide right now anyway, since they can't spay her until the kittens have stopped nursing."
Meredith stays quiet. Silence. They're back to silent.
Derek bites his tongue and drives. They were just talking, and now they're not. It's like every time they make one step forward, it's ten steps backwards shortly after. He doesn't know how much longer he can take this. Of course, he knew the kittens were just a distraction, and they would only distract them for so long until reality set in.
When they get to the house, there's a car in the driveway. He had already forgotten that Meredith said she'd told Callie she and Sofia could meet the kittens.
Callie and Sofia get out of the car as Meredith, Derek, and the kids walk up to the house.
"Where are the kittens?!" Sofia exclaims after Sunny lets out a soft meow.
"In there," Zola points to the cat carrier that Derek holds. "We just gots back from the vet. Sunny gots shots, but the kittens is too little."
"Can I hold them, Mommy?" Sofia tugs at Callie's hand.
"You have to ask Meredith and Derek." They enter the house, and Derek sets the carrier down.
Derek grins. "Let's give the kitties a little time to regroup after their trip to the doctor. They might be tired." He opens up the carrier and Sunny comes out. She immediately rubs up against Meredith's legs, who bends over and picks up the Momma kitty. From several feet away, Derek hears Sunny's purr motor running. He gently removes a kitten from the carrier and hands one to Sofia. Sofia's eyes light up as she strokes it. Derek hands the other kitten to Callie, and holds the third kitten.
"Oh, Mommy, I want all three!" Sofia exclaims. "Are they boys or girls?"
After Meredith left, the vet had revealed two of the kittens are boys, and one is a girl. Two orange tabbies, who look like mini Sunny Wyatts, are the boys, and the tuxedo is a girl. Derek points out the genders to Sofia.
"Sofia, I told you, you can pick one," Callie says.
Sofia frowns. "But what if the kitty gets lonely? It needs a friend."
"It's true, I read that cats are happier in pairs," Derek agrees, grinning widely at Callie.
Callie glares at Derek. "You're not really helping me here, are you?"
"Please, Mommy! Please, can I have two?" Sofia pleads.
"Wow, you have a good little negotiator there," Meredith says. "Sofia, you know the babies have to stay with their mommy for seven more weeks, so you won't get to take a kitten home today."
"Yes, Mommy told me that," Sofia says. "I want the two boys - we have too many girls in our family." She points to the one in her arms and the one in Callie's. I'm going to name them Markie after Daddy, and Georgie after Mommy Callie's friend who died a hero."
Derek smiles warmly at Callie, surprised that Sofia knows about George. He feels a warm sensation in his heart and also a tinge of sadness.
Callie sighs reluctantly. "Okay. You can have two."
Callie and Sofia stay for a while to play with the kittens, and Derek puts some pizza rolls in the microwave for the kids to eat. The adults sip on wine. Derek isn't hungry, and Meredith doesn't appear to be either. Meredith chats with Callie like nothing happened at the vet's office. They mostly talk about the kittens and where they were discovered.
Callie also invites Zola and Bailey over for a sleepover tomorrow night with Sofia. Meredith agrees before Derek can give his two cents, and he can't even think about taking the kids' excitement away. Plus, maybe it'll give him and Meredith some time alone to actually talk without kids. He's not too hopeful of them making any progress, though.
After Callie and Sofia leave, sometime after seven, he and Meredith get the kids ready for bed with baths. Meredith is still obsessed with giving Bailey attention to make up for how she treated him after Eli died, so she reads him a story while he gets Zola in bed.
"Daddy, I'm not tired," Zola insists. "I'm too old to go to bed at 8! I want to stay up until 8:30 and play with the kitties."
"Zola, the kitties have had a long day. They're probably sleeping already," Derek tells his daughter.
Zola pouts. "Can I go stay goodnight to them?" she asks.
"Okay," he relents. Zola runs downstairs and finds Sunny nursing the kittens.
"Zola, don't bother her while she's feeding the babies," Derek orders his daughter.
"Night night, babies," Zola says softly, and she waves at the kittens and Sunny. "Can I watch TV, Daddy?"
"Zola, it's bedtime," he says firmly. He scoops his daughter into his arms, feeling her weight in his arms. He can't believe how much his daughter has grown this summer, both physically and mentally. She's growing too fast. Both Zola and Bailey are growing too fast.
He carries her up to her bed, and sets her in bed. "Do you want me to read you a story?" he asks.
Zola rolls her eyes. "I'm too old to be read a story, Daddy." She doesn't sound four in her statement; she sounds fourteen. And she rolled her eyes at him. He can't believe what he's hearing.
"Okay. I'm going to shut the lights off."
He shuts off the lights and stands in the hallway feeling defeated.
Zola is growing up. She's becoming moody and sassy. Sometimes she sounds just like Meredith. It scares him. Sometimes it feels like Zola and Meredith are teamed up against him.
Meredith appears from Bailey's room. "Everything okay?" she places her hand on his shoulder, making him flinch.
"Zola told me she's too old to be read a story." He feels sick saying the words.
"What?" Meredith sounds shocked. "She's four. She's never said that to me."
"You're not making me feel better," Derek says.
"Sorry. I'm not good at that, am I? Comforting you, or whatever," Meredith sighs. "I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that," Derek says.
"Saying what?"
"You're sorry," Derek replies. "What are you sorry for?"
She frowns. "For being a lousy wife, a lousy mother, for being less than what you deserve. Derek, you deserve so much better than me…"
"Stop it," he says, firm with frustration in every inch of his body. "I don't want to hear this."
"There we go again, fighting. I'm so damn tired, Derek. I'm so tired of fighting. That's why I stay silent. That's why I ignore you. I don't want to fight anymore."
"Well, neither do I," Derek scoffs. "But you can't just pack your bags and go to Alex's. That's not going to solve anything. If you want to leave me, then give me divorce papers."
Her face is stunned.
"I don't want a divorce," she replies.
"Okay, then what do you want, Meredith? Please, explain it to me. What do you want, Meredith?"
"What do you want, Derek?"
"I want my family back," spills out of his mouth. "This isn't the first time we've experienced a loss. We've experienced so many losses in our marriage, but you know what? We've always found a way to put back the pieces and feel whole again. We'll never be like we used to be. That's because we're stronger now. With each loss, we grow stronger, Meredith. We've learned to be grateful for what we have, and while we may not have Eli physically with us, we have two pretty amazing children who are growing up before our eyes. Before we know it, they'll be going off to college and wanting nothing to do with us. We have to be present in this moment, Meredith. We have to stop focusing on the past and worrying about the future, because this moment is the only one that matters."
He meets his wife's watery eyes.
She wraps her arms around him, taking him completely aback. He can't help but notice the fresh marks on her forearms.
"You're right, Derek. You're absolutely right."
Nicole's A/N: Awww, MerDer 3
Happy holidays! I hope you're all well and warm. Thank you for sticking with us. Can you believe this story is over four years old now? I know I can't.