We need to talk.
That's all the email said. Two years, one month and four days after she'd left, and he hadn't heard a word from her till today. Richard had told him that morning that Meredith was moving back to Seattle, taking a temporary attending position they had open and were struggling to find the right surgeon to fit in. A favour to Richard.
Now he had an email from her, with those four words, after nothing for almost two years. He'd been respectful, he'd done as she had asked, as much as it had killed him to not contact her. He didn't even know what he would do when he saw her again. Yell at her? Hold on to her and never let her leave again? Both?
Those four words were floating around in his mind, and he had no idea how to respond to her. Did she just want to call him or actually meet up with him? What even was there to talk about? She'd made it very clear that whatever was between them was over and she wanted nothing to do with him. It was just distracting him now, and he couldn't focus on getting this article finished. He pulled up the email again, hitting reply and staring at the blank screen a few moments before he started to type.
Hey, Richard told me you're coming to work with us for a while. Do you need me to clarify any of the job details? Nice to hear from you, hope you're well.
It sounded awkward and forced. He knew it did. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say exactly. He hit the send button before he could think any more about it, only to get a sick feeling in his stomach, knowing he would have to wait for her response to come through.
He pulled up the article again, trying to get himself to focus again on what he was writing, his fingers tapping against the desk. He just needed to finish it and send it to the publisher, and it would be done with. He had paperwork he needed to complete, budget reports and scheduling conflicts, but he needed to finish this on time and get it published. Get his name out there again. He'd been in Seattle for almost three years now, and if he was going to look at progressing to bigger hospitals, he had to get his act in gear. Which may have something to do with her return. He knew she was starting to make a name for herself and he was still stuck where she had left him two years ago.
The computer pinged to indicate a new incoming email, and he found himself holding his breath as he opened it. His eyes scanned over the words, his brow furrowing in further confusion as he read them.
It's not about work, it's personal. I land on Friday night. I can meet you for lunch on Saturday if you're free.
What could she possibly want to talk about? He had heard nothing from her in over two years. He let out a sigh as he thought about it. He did have a rare weekend off, so he couldn't use work as an excuse, and he had only planned to go fishing with Mark on the Sunday. Maybe he should go and see her, hear her out and see what she had to say, see what excuse she had for not even letting him know she was still alive in the past two years. Especially since she had been gone for double the amount of time she had originally planned. He never even expected her to come back at all when he'd found out she was prolonging her stay there, from Cristina of all people.
Cristina had been different with him, that was for sure. Almost as though she pitied him, but he couldn't fathom why. Meredith was her best friend, close to being her sister even, it would make more sense for Cristina to glare at him and make snide comments. It was almost like Cristina was being nice to him, in her own way.
He got his mind back on track as he started typing out a response. He would meet her, see her again after two years. It was probably for the best that they see each other for the first time again outside of the hospital, outside of the world where he was technically her boss again.
I can do lunch. Is there anywhere specific you want to meet? My number hasn't changed if it's easier for you to text me on the day, just let me know.
He pressed send, his heart pounding slightly in his chest. He hated how he still loved her. It made it hard to hate her. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about her, and he thought maybe he wouldn't feel this strongly about her still, but he still didn't date. Still didn't join in with Mark at the bar, picking girls up. He still wanted to wait for her, as ridiculous as he knew it sounded.
Will do, thanks.
He could've tried to continue the conversation, see how she was doing, asked her why she'd finally decided to move back to Seattle. Even struck up conversation about current research. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't face that kind of rejection from her.
If he kept thinking about it all too much, he'd probably drive himself crazy. He needed to just get on with this article. He had four days before he was going to see her, and he couldn't just lose his mind for four days. He could finish the article, and then… probably lose his mind until he saw her again, until he knew what she wanted, or had to say. Maybe she just wanted to see him away from the hospital, avoid any awkwardness before they started work together. He couldn't help but feel like there might be something more though that she wasn't telling him.
Long plane rides were difficult enough when you didn't have a child with you, but at least her 18-month-old daughter had finally fallen asleep. She wished she could sleep. She'd barely been able to get to sleep the night before, and now the time zone was going to be completely different once they landed in Seattle. She looked down at Abigail who was cuddled up against her, sat in her lap as she slept, and carefully ran her fingers through her dark curls.
The whole situation was a mess, and she had no one to blame but herself. Six weeks after arriving in England, she had found out she was pregnant. At the worst possible time, just as she was settling in more comfortably with her fellowship, in a brand new country, and any sane person would probably have returned home. Maybe even told the father of the child about the pregnancy. But no one ever said that Meredith Grey was a sane person.
She'd denied it mostly until the fifteenth week. Told people it was a stomach bug, wore bigger scrubs so it wasn't obvious she was putting on weight. She didn't want to believe it was true, so she continued working as many hours as they'd allow and didn't tell a soul. But then Cristina had called after not hearing from her, other than a few short texts, and everything came spilling out. She had just broken down and told her everything.
She couldn't call Derek out of the blue. She couldn't send tell him over a text, or an email. But she also couldn't fly out to America in the midst of her fellowship. She couldn't get on a twelve hour flight. He could've easily turned away and had nothing to do with her. She hadn't even spoken to him in almost four months, she couldn't just waltz back into his life and turn it upside down. She also didn't want to feel like he had to move out to England just because she was pregnant, or have him convince her not to finish her fellowship, to start over in Seattle, be his student again whilst also having his baby. That would never work.
And as time went on she just pushed it away, didn't think about telling Derek, and didn't talk about telling him. She knew the last thing she wanted was to not have their baby, or to give up their baby, and she was so glad that she didn't. Abigail was the light of her life, and she never thought being a mother would make her this happy, as difficult as it had been on her own, but she had no one else but herself to blame for that.
Eventually, seven months had passed and she still hadn't told him, and maybe she would've told him in those last two months, if she hadn't gone into premature labour in the OR. She'd wanted him there. As soon as her water broke, she just wanted him there with her, holding her hand and telling her everything was going to be okay. But she still couldn't. She couldn't just call him and say she was in labour with their child.
She didn't even tell Ellis and Richard until she'd gone into labour. She thought Ellis would have completely disowned her, and berated her, but she was just worried. Overly worried. Ellis and Richard had flown out to England that same day, arriving only a couple hours after Abigail had been born.
Ellis would fly out frequently, every couple of months or so, or more if she could. She never imagined that even if she did have a child that her mother would be the kind of grandmother she had been to Abigail. Insisting on being known as Granny, always video calling and asking for updates if Meredith had gotten too busy to remember to send any. Packages would always be arriving, and not just with things for Abigail. Ellis was close to being Abigail's favourite person, besides Meredith of course. Which explained why when Ellis called and told Meredith she had six months to live, Meredith knew she had to take her daughter and move back to Seattle.
Ellis and Richard sorted out a house for her and Abigail not far from their own, which was waiting for them now set up and ready. Richard had secured her a position as a neurosurgical attending at the hospital, under the guise of not being able to fill a vacant position after Crichek had retired, and even though she knew all the implications that came with that, she needed to buck up and do what was best for Abigail, regardless of the consequences for herself.
That's why she found herself on a plane back to Seattle after being gone for just over two years, her daughter fast asleep in her lap. It just didn't seem right to be halfway across the world when her mom only had six months to live, and it was finally giving her the push she needed to speak to Derek. She had no idea how he was going to react, but she had to do it. She couldn't lie to him. She couldn't just sit and wait for him to hear about Abigail from somebody else. You couldn't deny from looking at her exactly who her father was.
Abigail knew who her father was. Meredith was sure of that. She made sure to speak about him all the time, and would even show her videos of his talks, or listen to him talking through a surgery. His voice calmed Abigail, and she recognised him as her 'dada'. She put together albums and scrap books, documenting Abi's first years, making sure she had copies for Derek. It wasn't that she didn't want Derek to be Abigail's father, she wanted that more than anything. She just couldn't bring herself to trust that he wouldn't want them.
She had to push past that fear though, lean into it and at least try, for Abigail's sake. She was about to lose her Granny, and Meredith was sure she couldn't help Abigail through this on her own. She had to tell Derek the truth, and hope it was better later than never.