Chapter 20: Help Him
Meredith glances at the dainty watch on her wrist, suppressing a little gasp at the time. "Derek…we really do need to get back now…" she murmurs, almost unwilling to move at the moment. Rolling onto her back, she contemplates the almost full moon outside. "Is there some significance to the full moon being on my birthday?" she asks, sitting up to hug her knees. She lays her head on them, looking over at Derek.
"Only if you're a werewolf," Derek replies, with a wink.
"You mean there are…?"
"Absolutely, you shouldn't be surprised at this point, sweetheart," he teases her, sitting up beside her.
"Hmm…no I shouldn't, should I? Have I met any while I've been here?"
"No, not here," he says mysteriously, running his hand along her spine.
"In Seattle?" she asks, her eyes meeting his again.
Derek nods, debating whether or not to tell her. "Meredith, when your mother died, she left you with Richard and Adele. She knew you would be safe with them, as did Thatcher."
"Of course, I know that. They…" Meredith pauses, putting her hand to her mouth, her eyes going wide in surprise.
"They are werewolves. They can keep secrets better than any others and can cover their tracks like no other. It's part of their nature, after all."
"So that's what Richard meant about being able to look after himself, and having powers of his own," Meredith says, the light going on. "Why didn't you tell me before?" She smacks his shoulder lightly.
"Would you have been ready to believe me? After all, just understanding about your heritage, and my revealing I'm a vampire…" Derek's voice trails off. "Are you angry?" He can't quite read her thoughts, something that seems to be happening now that she is fast approaching her birthday.
Meredith blows out a puff of air, getting up, looking around at their scattering clothing. "No, I'm not mad, just wondering what else I'm going to find out. Like Dr. Bailey actually being a shape shifter, or something…" She giggles a little at that thought. "Or Dr. Montgomery being a witch…now THAT I could believe."
Derek takes her hand, pulling her close for a moment. "No other secrets that I'm aware of." He kisses her softly. "Let's get out of here before we get carried away yet again."
Meredith backs away from him, finding her gown and stepping into it. She pulls it up and turns around to find him already dressed. Though the white shirt is still partly unbuttoned, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck, he looks rakish and dangerous in the half light, his hair deliciously rumpled from their lovemaking. "I can hardly wait to learn that trick," she laughs, presenting her back to him, holding her shoes in her hands. "Help me zip…"
He leans closer, fingers brushing her spine as he tugs the delicate zipper into place. "Don't panic, the party is still going strong." Dropping a kiss along her shoulder blade before letting her go.
"Still, I'm the guest of honor…" Meredith laughs. "I need to do something with my hair. Is there somewhere…" Her voice trails off as she catches sight of a movement outside the windows. Before she can react, Derek throws himself against her, taking them both to the floor. His body covers her protectively, as the glass shatters and rains over them.
"Don't move…" he whispers in her ear.
Meredith nods, squeezing her eyes shut, as the cool air rushes in. "What is it?"
Derek doesn't answer, as another window shatters. He can feel the shards through his jacket, and his pants, and he grimaces at the stinging bite. Anger surges through him, his ears tuned for the sound of any Renegades approaching. There is a chill pervading the room then that has nothing to do with the lake air surrounding them.
He glances over his shoulder, and finds Michelangelo standing there, surrounded by several of his minions. Instantly, he is on his feet, holding Meredith behind him. Cursing that he has no weapons with him, he faces the sneering face of Michelangelo evenly. "Back off," he says, his voice deadly quiet. Meredith can feel the anger in his body, her hands at his back. She wants to move, but her feet seem rooted to the floor.
"Now, is that any way to speak to your elder?" Michelangelo asks. "I just wanted to visit my niece before her birthday." The Renegades around him snort in laughter, and Meredith shivers.
"You don't deserve any respect," Derek snarls, fangs extended, trying to edge them closer to the door. "And you better leave before the rest of the group discovers your presence and comes to help. I'm sure you don't want to face the whole coven, do you?"
"They can't sense what is shielded," Michelangelo replies smugly, advancing towards them. "I was far too lenient with you last time, boy, and you got away from me. You won't be so fortunate this time – either of you." His cold stare bores into Meredith.
Derek grips her arm and pushes her suddenly towards the door. "Meredith run! Find your father…"
Meredith picks up the skirts of her dress and whirls away towards the door, her heart beating like a mad drum. She hates to leave him, but she knows they need reinforcements. Her fingers fumble with the doorknob, finally flinging it open and starting to dash down the stairs. She can feel the sudden presence behind her, and her pace increases, running headlong down the path, not paying attention to the cold grass beneath her bare feet. Hands pull at her arms and she throws them off, before one of them lands on the path in front of her. Breathing heavily, she tries to collect her thoughts, tries to remember what Mr. Tanaka taught her. Before the Renegade attacks, she gives him a swift roundhouse kick, catching him totally off guard. He grunts and falls backwards, as she elbows the other one in the throat, giving her enough time to dart around them and sprint towards the manor again. Her thoughts concentrate on Thatcher, hoping he can pick up her cry for help. As she stumbles through the French doors, the gathering looks up in surprise. Thatcher is there in a moment, taking in her thoughts, and the panic on her face.
"You have to help Derek…now…" Meredith shouts, turning to leave again. "Hurry…" Several of the vampires charge behind her, and Thatcher snatches a couple of the swords from the wall before they head back outside. In short order, he takes out the two Renegades that had chased Meredith, as they surge quickly down the pathway.
At the boathouse, Derek and Michelangelo circle each other warily. Michelangelo has his silver sword in hand, an evil grin on his face. "Just you and me again, hmm? Time to finish you, and then I'll kill the girl. I may have let her run, but only to torment you, and to bring my brother here for the final show." He nods towards the Renegades, who rush forward and pin Derek's arms behind his back, their fetid breath on his face. The sword flicks over his chest, leaving a trail of blood, as it slices his skin. White hot pain races through him, and he grits his teeth. "Just because you sent Meredith away doesn't mean she's safe, you know. And just because you've bonded doesn't mean anything…yes, I can smell the scent of sex and blood between you. You're lucky I didn't arrive any sooner to interrupt your tender moments…"
"Meredith is no threat to you, damnit. She doesn't want this feud to continue. Killing me isn't going to help you but go for it if it makes you feel like a hero…" Derek taunts him, wincing at another hiss of the sword cutting through his shirt, and into his chest.
"Oh, it's just for fun," Michelangelo growls, laying the sword against Derek's throat. "Have you ever watched a cat with a mouse? Letting it creep just a breath away, letting it think it's safe...before pouncing again...toying with it...finally moving in for the kill..." The sword digs in cruelly, and Derek feels the pressure increasing. "So, you see, it's not really all about the feud or my brother, it's all about the game…" The sword moves a little deeper, blood running over the blade. The Renegades holding him are shifting eagerly, the scent of blood exciting them.
'You're a twisted bastard…" Derek manages to spit out, spinning suddenly, and managing to wrench himself away from the Renegades. A rivulet of blood stains his shirt, but the wound is beginning to heal slightly. The Renegades come at him again, throwing punches, managing to stay nearly out of reach of his retaliation efforts. He lands a square punch in the jaw of one of them, sending it to the floor, before the other one twists his arm back again, jabbing him in the back, fangs at his throat.
"So, I've been told," Michelangelo murmurs dryly, watching the fight for a moment. "All right, you fools, back away from him..." Before he can say anything else, Derek lunges forward, his hands going for Michelangelo's neck, intent on choking him with his bare hands. Michelangelo easily pulls away, shoving Derek to the floor. Then the door bursts open behind them, and Thatcher and Meredith lead the way into the room. Meredith has one of the swords in her own hands, Thatcher another. For a moment, everyone stops, silently assessing each other, before Meredith joins Derek, running a worried glance over his wounds. He shakes his head at her, taking the sword that she offers him, pulling himself to stand beside her.
"Michelangelo, this is enough now," Thatcher says quietly, coming to stand between his brother and Derek. "I've been far too lenient and patient with you all these centuries, but this must stop."
"But I'm just getting started, brother dear," Michelangelo snarls, raising his sword again. "And if you want to stop me, then do it yourself. None of these with you is strong enough, and you know it. I'm growing weary of this mouse here..." His contemptuous gaze encompasses Derek, and the rest of the vampires behind Thatcher. "I've been growing my powers these last few weeks, waiting for this moment." With a flick of his head, he sends Derek's sword clattering to the floor. Any other movements of the others are just as easily stopped, the power of his thoughts enough to stop them.
"So, let them go, and we finish this now," Thatcher says calmly, his own strength of will keeping his weapon firmly in hand. He can feel the waves of hatred and power rolling off his brother, the eyes gleaming with malevolent glee. "But you won't win…"
"Daddy…you can't stay alone," Meredith murmurs, loathe to leave them. Derek echoes her sentiments silently, but his vision is blurred with sweat and blood, and his body is shaking from the effort of standing. Veronique comes behind Meredith, and gently tugs her backwards.
"Come, child, this is between the two of them now," she urges, laying her hand on Derek's arm as well. Her own strength is formidable as well, and they move with her, backing away towards the door. The rest of the group is talking amongst themselves, trying to decide what else they can do.
"I can't just leave," Meredith protests, tears building in her eyes. She looks at Derek, and her heart contracts at the sight of his bloodied torso, the bruises fading on his face. "Oh my god, you're not healing again."
"Silver," Veronique hisses. "You must heal him yourself, Meredith. You know what to do."
"But…"
"Derek is your mate, Meredith. Tend to him," Veronique says firmly. "I will stay here and do what I can, ma petite." The other elders, and some of the younger vampires all nod grimly. "This feud has gone on for so long, I fear they no longer know why." Her lavender eyes are concerned, as sounds of fighting can be heard, swords meeting, and muffled grunts and curses.
"It's all a game to Michelangelo," Derek says quietly. "I don't think he cares about anything else..."
"But if my father dies…"
Derek puts his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close again. "Shh…" he starts to soothe her, but suddenly a large booming explosion rocks the boathouse, and they all stagger backwards, onto the frosty grass. In horror, they see flames racing through the old timbers, the heat scorchingly intense. Meredith screams in shock, and Derek shields her against his chest, gripping her tightly. Veronique closes her eyes, trying to pick up any kind of thought from inside, coming up with only emptiness. Her eyes meet Derek's over Meredith's head, and she shakes her head slowly. Another small explosion rocks the building, and the flames crackle and dance in the darkness. There is nothing they can do, except watch in disbelief as the small building burns. Swirling dust rises, the evidence of the Renegades disintegrating, and it chills Meredith to the core.
"He must have gotten away…" Meredith whispers to Derek, her tear stained face lifting up to him. "The lake…he must have jumped, or transported…before…somehow..."
"We can only hope. Unfortunately, our talisman doesn't work the opposite way - we have no way of knowing if anything happens to him. But he's strong, Meredith," Derek assures her, leading her away from the fire. It's far too intense and close for comfort. Luckily there is nothing else in close proximity to catch fire, and all they can do is let it burn. They will need to find a way to keep the local authorities from becoming suspicious, and let their own kind investigate the cause of the explosion.
Somberly, Derek leads the way back inside the mansion, and the groups begin to disperse silently. Offering Meredith their support as best they can, giving Derek terse messages as they disappear into the night. Finally, only Veronique remains with them, and she turns to them tiredly. "It's close to dawn, we must rest. And you must heal, Derek. You can't help Thatcher if you're injured. We will find him."
"Yes, we will," Meredith says firmly, "and then we will kill Michelangelo."
"Meredith…"
"I mean it, Derek." Her voice is resolute, as she looks at both of them. "What if he is wounded, and Michelangelo leaves him out to die in the sun? What if he tortures him? I've lost one parent already; I'm not losing another."
"Meredith, he may already be dead," Derek says gently.
"No, I won't believe that until I have proof."
"Cherie, we understand," Veronique says, hugging Meredith. "I want to believe the best as well. Now, go help Derek..."
"Yes, of course," Meredith murmurs, letting Derek lean against her, as they ascend the stairs to their suite. She feels emotionally shattered, her gown now smelling of acrid smoke, and her eyes swollen from crying. "Take my blood, Derek, you know you need more," she says as they enter the bedroom.
"I've already taken some tonight," he protests. "I don't want to weaken you, either." He collapses on the bed, grimacing in pain, holding his head in his hands as he sits down. "I wasn't much use tonight."
"Derek, you couldn't help it," Meredith assures him, kneeling before him. She takes his face in her hands. "You had no weapons, nothing to use. You could have died…" She traces the now fading bruise under his eye, feeling the pain inside of him. "I don't blame you for what happened..."
"I do..." Derek mutters bitterly. He feels sick at the course of events that ended the night that was supposed to be Meredith's shining moment. Her hands are cool against his skin, as she peels the remaining shreds of his shirt away from his body, her breath catching at the sight. Before he can protest, she eases him down, disappearing for a moment to return with a warm wet cloth. She hovers over him, sponging away the worst of the blood, before she sits beside him.
"Now...I want you to take what you need, and then I'm running a bath for both of us," she tells him firmly. Gazing into his dark eyes, seeing the torment and sadness that is surely reflected in her own, Meredith leans closer. "Bite me now...take what you need..." Pressing him closer against her, until he is unable to resist.
With a strangled growl of need, Derek bares his fangs, and slides them over her throat. Sinking into her yielding flesh eagerly, slaking his thirst with her potent blood, as she shudders in his arms. Tasting the exquisite gift, earthy sweet, rushing into every bone and cell in his body. Derek feels the restorative effect taking over almost immediately, his strength returning, and he backs away, almost reluctantly, his tongue stroking the wound tenderly. Meredith sighs, looking at him with drowsy eyes, as he cradles her closer. She looks so damn beautiful, despite the smoky smudges on her skin - so soft and giving, yet so courageous in everything she does, he can't help but feel overwhelming love for her.
"You're a helluva woman, Meredith Eleña Grey, and I'm damn lucky to have you with me," Derek murmurs softly, kissing her lips then.
"We're both lucky," Meredith replies, stretching languidly. "And we will find my father, somehow. I love you..."
"Love you..." Derek echoes, taking her mouth again, holding her tightly...
Much later, Meredith tosses and turns beside Derek. She envies his instant slumber, wishing for the same relief. He looks more peaceful, deep asleep, the evidence of his injuries faded away, his arm flung possessively across her hips.
The bath had helped somewhat, as Derek held her, washing away the soot and the smoke from her hair and skin. There was nothing seductive or sexual in the moment, it was just the two of them comforting each other. She had a chilled glass of chardonnay, hoping the alcohol would help her sleep, but she was still wide eyed as dawn arrived. Finally dropping into a light sleep as the sky grew ever lighter, she dreams of running through the grass, only this time the sun is shining, and she giggles in delight as her mother chases her. She's only a child, a happy time...
"Meredith...don't go so fast..."
"Mommy...catch me..." Spinning in a big circle until she was dizzy, falling down giggling again.
"Meredith," Ellis chided, her voice warm and loving, holding out her hand to help Meredith stand up. Suddenly Meredith wasn't a child any longer, but full grown, standing in her blue gown again, in the cool grass at night. "You're so pretty, all grown up. I've missed you so..."
"Mom...what are you doing here?" Meredith looked around in confusion.
"I'm always with you. You are never alone, even though you may have thought so. I'm sorry I couldn't teach you more before I left you. So many things were left unsaid, undone...but you have done so well. I'm so proud of you..." Ellis touched Meredith's cheek tenderly. "Be extraordinary, Meredith. Your life will be much different than anything I imagined, but be true to yourself, and help Thatcher in his quest to make things right with his brother."
"I will. And Derek will be with me..."
"Yes, his destiny is bound with yours now for eternity. The spirit of Kiera.."
"What about Kiera? Tell me, Mom..." Meredith pleaded, but her mother is fading from view. "Mom...? Mom...!"
Meredith sits up quickly, her eyes wide, seeing only the darkened bedroom again, Derek sleeping soundly beside her. She touches her cheek, as if still feeling the brush of her mother's fingers, it had felt so real. With a sigh, she slips out of bed, and pulls on her robe, and decides to get a glass of warm milk to try to fall asleep again. The house is hushed and cool, as she makes her way to the kitchen. There is a haze of clouds in the sky, but the sun is peeking through, and she stands for a moment in a square of light on the kitchen tile. She can just see the edge of the blackened skeleton of the boathouse from the kitchen windows, wisps of smoke still hovering in places.
This is the last day of her mortal life, and Meredith suddenly decides she needs to be outside, in the sun, to savor the last feel of it against her skin. She hurries back up to get dressed, throwing on jeans and a dark sweater, pulling her hair into a ponytail. Maybe she can find some clues in the burnt wreckage of the boathouse that might help her find Thatcher, or at least feel like she's doing something useful. Kissing Derek on the cheek, before she scribbles a short note, then crumples it up. There's no point in leaving a note, she will be back before dusk, long before he awakes after all...
