A/N: hi there! Damn, I'm so so sorry for disappearing for such a long time but life has been hectic, to say the least. Anyway, the new chapter is here. Finally. Also, there are 2 flashbacks in this one. All the part in italics is that. The first flashback is based somewhere in the beginning of 6x10 and the second one is based in the early to mid season 7 somewhere. So that's all. Hope y'all like this one.

When Derek had been a child, his Dad would narrate stories; mostly old Greek legends, stories about love and war, Orpheus championing the Underworld to be with his love, Prometheus stealing fire for the humans, Athena winning over the people of Athens, Theseus defeating the Minotaur.

Stories of triumph and victory, stories of love, always, always stories of love.

It had taken him years to realise that his father had never quite completed those tales, saved them from the tragic ends, the terrible reality that love didn't always win.

Orpheus lost Eurydice forever.

Prometheus' actions brought with them Pandora's box.

Poseidon's loss to Athena brought with it an onset of droughts for the people.

Theseus losing his love for the victory.

It had taken him even longer to understand that you didn't have to be a Greek hero to get tragic endings, for your entire world to fall apart.

Derek stood leaning on the balcony, his hands clutching a diamond ring.

"Are you planning on giving it to someone?", his mother whispered.

She stepped beside him, looking out at the graying sky. He felt her slowly turn towards him, imperceptibly brushing his arm.

"Well, do I know her?"

"Ma.", he muttered, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath before continuing, "I think that...you should give this to Amy."

"Your sister- Amy?", she asked taken aback.

"Yes. Or not her exactly but- you..you'll understand once she returns and no, I won't answer any of your questions, not until she gets here."

Amelia had fled to LA soon after she'd heard about her mother's trip; she had called Derek eventually to inform him and the conversation had been heavily filled with threats-from both sides until he'd relented, had let her escape- it was after all what she did best. What they did best

Run away from your problems, from the consequences of your actions.

His mother huffed before moving slightly closer to him, " Well, are you going to give it to me then?"

"Yeah. Of course.", Derek fingered the dainty inscription on the inside of the ring before gently placing it on his mother's palm.

Meredith had never really worn the ring when they'd been married and she'd returned it to him the day they'd signed the divorce papers yet his chest constricted as he placed the ring in his mother's upturned palm.

"For the rest of my life. It wasn't anything grand, but he meant it; every word.", her voice trembled as she quietly rubbed her face.

It had been forty years, forty years and Carolyn Shepherd's voice still quivered at the mention of her husband.

"Anyway, I came here to ask you to change because we are already late."

"Late for what?", he asked.

"Thanksgiving dinner."

"Wait-what? Ma, I thought we were ordering in."

"We were until Meredith invited us over to her house.", she replied with a faint smile on her face.

"She did what-?"

Why would Meredith invite him over to her place? His mother he would understand- she was after all the only grandparent their kids had, but inviting him didn't make any sense. She'd specifically kept her distance all these years; other than the kids' birthdays they'd never sat down for dinner together. Not once. It just didn't make any sense.

Unless she did to-. Of course. Of course, she would.

He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, feebly attempting to calm the utter rage coursing through him.

He could sense his mother following his every move as she squeezed his shoulder and whispered, " Come on, I told her we would help out with the turkey and I don't want to be late to see my grandchildren."

He didn't miss the quiet concern in her eyes nor did he miss the fact that his mother still avoided talking about his father.

By the time Derek pulled in front of Meredith's mother's house, the sky had darkened and thick clouds could be seen as far as the sight could go.

Derek had never been a fan of the Seattle storms.

His mother moved out of the car, quickly gathering all that they had brought.

"Ma, I'll pick it up", he yelled as he locked the car and promptly took the brown bags from her arms, leaving her with a couple of bottles of fruit beer.

"Uh-huh, I'm old, son, not invalid. I can handle two bottles of fruit beer."

He could feel the absolute joy emanating from her as she moved towards the front door with her grandchildren waiting on the other side, while he stood out in the chilly wind wondering for what was probably the thousandth time in the past hour, if he could just run away.

Because if anyone asked him why he came bearing two bottles of a specific fruit beer- he wouldn't have an answer.

He wouldn't have an answer except that it was the first time, the first time in the past four years that he was spending Thanksgiving with Meredith.

Derek lay, making small circles on Meredith's abdomen as he huddled closer to her, his forehead resting on her bare shoulder, breathing her in. He felt dizzy, almost drunk, on her, always, always on her.

She hummed quietly as he traced the expansive geography of the freckles on her back.

The one that looked like a wine glass. The one that made her sigh. The cluster that resembled the Orion belt. The one that made her moan. The one that made her tickle all over.

"Seems like a storm's coming", she murmured, looking out their window as he made his way back to the freckle which made her ticklish. Kissed his way around it, nipped, caressed, kissed, kissed until she was screeching his name and turning around in his arms.

"Ass", she muttered, breathing heavily as she ran her fingers through his hair, a small smile playing at her lips.

"You love my ass", he grinned back at her.

"You, Derek Shepherd, are full of yourself. Get over it.", she rolled her eyes at him, the smile never leaving her face.

He had a million things to worry about. The scuffle with Richard. His upcoming schedule. The little Jacobsen boy. But right now, right now Meredith was in his arms and it was their first Thanksgiving as a married couple. So he couldn't even attempt to keep the grin off his face.

"What's your favourite Thanksgiving memory?", he asked, settling beside her, tangling their limbs and moving as close to her as was possible.

She scrunched her button-nose and Derek couldn't help but press a soft kiss to it.

"Let me think about it."

"Hmm."

"You go first. I need time."

He detested the fact that his wife had to sift through her memories to find one that'd qualify as good, as happy; hated the cards that she had been dealt, hated what Thatcher and Ellis had done, hated that they'd made Meredith wary of holidays, of accepting happiness and love.

But it was okay, okay now because they had forever. Forever to make memories, forever to love each other and he'd make sure that he'd fill her life with so much joy that she'd never feel the way she had felt as a young child, waiting for her parents in the cold, cold winter night.

"My favourite Thanksgiving would be...when I was around six? My Mom was pregnant with Amy back then and she was exhausted most times so my Dad offered to make the Thanksgiving dinner and we, offered to help him. My Dad's entire family was coming over so we did it all. Liz was too young so Nancy, Kathy and I did most of the work with him and right when we were about to put the Turkey to cook, my Mom came rushing into the kitchen, panicking. She felt that she was having contractions and it was early, two months too early for that so my Dad left everything to take her to the hospital."

Meredith had pushed herself up on her arm, intently staring at him, urging him to go on.

"So because it was Thanksgiving and all of the family was already coming over, they couldn't find anyone to look after us so all of us went to the hospital with them and we sat there in the emergency room for hours before a doctor saw us. Meanwhile the Turkey sat on our kitchen counter, uncooked. Then finally someone ushered her in to see a doctor and we waited and waited. Dad was convinced something was very very wrong but my Mom? she came out laughing, laughing so hard that her eyes welled up. "

"Wait- what?"

"Yeah", he couldn't help but snort as he continued, "Turns out- it was nothing; Braxton Hicks probably- she had felt it was more but..but this is my mother we're talking about; she'd done this four times before. Four times. There was no way that she had-"

"She faked it", she half yelled, half exclaimed. "No way, your mom would never."

"Well, she says it was the hormones but..we disagree."

"But why? I mean it was Thanksgiving!", she replied, biting her lip.

"Well, my mother did have a reputation for not being my Dad's family's favourite."

He watched her face turn from that filled with shock and disbelief to one filled with mirth as she started to laugh, a full belly laugh.

If Derek had been a religious man then he would say that this was it, this woman- she was it, she was all there was to heaven.

He was sure of it.

"I think your mom's my new favourite person and I think I know where you get your mean streak from.", she snorted.

"Hey!"

"Such a Mama's boy"

"Hey!"

"Did you figure out your story?"

"Yeah."

"It was when I was around- eight I think? Most times my Mom and I were alone during Thanksgiving and she'd be working so it was just me."

Sometimes, just sometimes he was glad that Ellis Grey had suffered.

"But this one time, my aunt- my mom's older sister, my Aunt Lena had come over from Michigan and she had forced my mom to stay home that evening. My Aunt- she was one of those cool aunts, you know? The one who never got married and hated all children except you, who secretly smoked cigarettes and gave you the sex talk way before it is necessary."

"Yeah.", he whispered, barely. Anything louder seemed almost...unholy.

"I..I loved her and she was one of the few people my mother was ever sweet, almost soft with. And during that night at dinner, she opened this bottle of raspberry fruit beer and she let me have some; against all of my mother's restrictions and it was just...", she licked her lips, reaching for a memory buried deep, deep inside her soul. "It tasted like..raspberry, of course, but also like this rich, dark chocolate and..and like-"

"Oh, God this makes me sound like an alcoholic- my favourite memory is that of having a sip of beer."

"Mer.", he tilted his head, urging her to continue.

"But thing is- it's not about the drink, or even my aunt, it's just that..my mother laughed so much that night, Derek. So much. And I remember laughing with her. It is, I think, one of the only times I remember her laughing with me. And..and everytime I think of that drink- I remember that."

"It's stupid, I know but I spent years looking for that brand of beer."

"It's not stupid at all, Mer", he gently pushed her hair behind her ear, caressed her cheek and wondered for the millionth time- how in the world had she ever fallen in love with him.

"What happened to your aunt?"

"She died a couple of years later in a car accident."

"I'm sorry.", his heart broke as she smiled slightly at him, broke at how strong she was, broke at how strong she had to become, so soon.

"You remember nothing about the bottle?"

"Just that it was from Michigan."

"Hmm."

"What?"

He quietly shook his head, the wheels turning in his head.

"What?", she asked again, exasperated.

"I love you, Meredith Grey.", he replied cheekily.

"You're an ass."

"You love my ass."

She laughed, more at him than with him.

But he'd take it- he would do anything for her, after all.

For the rest of his life.

"Dad?", his daughter's questioning gaze brought him back to the reality, brought him back to the porch, the bags clasped in his hands with his face almost tingling.

"Hey, princess." he moved towards her, extending his arm to engulf her in a fierce hug.

"Happy Thanksgiving, my little Zozo."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Dad", she beamed.

If there was one thing Derek could hold onto for the rest of his life, it would be his kids' hugs, their warmth, their smell, their love. Their undue, unconditional love.

"Come on.", she ordered, grabbing his free hand and dragging him toward the front door. "I helped with the Turkey and now that Nana's here I'll help with the rest too! You have to see it."

He followed her, quickly shutting the door only to be met with a pair of hazel eyes.

Hazel.

Nervous. She was nervous.

"Hey.", she mumbled. "I'll take the bags.", she gulped slightly.

"No, it's fine. I'll just put them in the kitchen."

"Mooom, we have to go."

She nodded slightly at Zola, never leaving his gaze as their daughter made her way to the kitchen, expecting him to follow but Derek remained rooted to his spot.

Not now. Not now. He couldn't say anything right now. He had to wait.

"Dad!"

"Coming!"

"I...", she began.

He walked away. He walked away.

Zola had taken charge of the kitchen, dividing the work and bossing them around. He could almost see it- his baby girl as a renowned chef; could almost see her indigo apron transforming into a thick white one and he couldn't help but grin unabashedly at the thought.

He also couldn't help the stinging pain in his chest.

In the past few years, he'd learnt that watching your children grow up was painful. You always found yourself wishing for the days gone by, grasping in the dark for the moments lost to time.

Yet, he had now learnt that watching your children grow up was also a privilege.

Zola had assigned the task of making the stuffing as well as the cranberry sauce to him. And Meredith. And Bailey. While she would be working on the Turkey and the pumpkin pie with his mother and Chase.

After multiple close calls, they had eventually managed to make the stuffing, the sauce and put the turkey in the oven. Now they sat round the dinner table with Bailey in Meredith's arms, drained from the events of the day and Zola animatedly narrating a story about her classmates to Chase.

As he looked around over and over again, he couldn't stop the nagging thought that they, they looked like a family.

One that he wasn't a part of.

"Okay so I've added the secret ingredient to the pie, now we just wait to put it in the oven.", his mother said, joining them.

Derek lightly shook his head at her antics, she'd been playing the secret ingredient card for as long as he could remember, but then no pumpkin pie he had ever had came even close to what his mother made so he couldn't exactly complain.

"Carolyn, Mer told me that you were a Navy nurse?", Chase asked her, a bright smile on his face.

"For 25 years."

"That's amazing.", he paused for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes."My Dad was in the army."

"Where was he stationed?"

"Vietnam."

"It's never...easy for the family."

"No..no it isn't.", he replied, his voice wavering.

"Anyway.", he stood up, clapping his hands, "The Turkey should be done so Zola you ready for the carving?"

"Yes! The Ninja Technique, right?"

"Of course.", he winked at a buoyant Zola.

His daughter was carving the Turkey with Chase. With her soon-to-be stepfather.

Oh. Oh.

Meredith pointedly stared at him, about to say something to the receding pair when Zola turned around and yelled, "Wait!"

She glanced up at a confused Chase, "I...I always carve the Turkey with my Dad."

Right. Godamnit, she was his daughter. His babygirl. Chase freaking Masters had no right to-

She was his baby, Godamnit.

"Oh. Okay. Derek, you want me to show you where everything is?"

Derek could feel their eyes on him, questioning, waiting especially Zola, her dark eyes looking up at him.

Derek Shepherd was a selfish, selfish man.

But not with her, not with his babies.

"You know what, Zo? The best chefs out there have to know all the different techniques especially the Ninja Technique."

"Yeah?", he could see the grin returning to her face.

"Yep."

"We'll do it next year, Dad! I promise!", she exclaimed running towards the kitchen.

"Shepherd, if you want..I'll back off. It's really not a big deal."

"No..no go ahead, you two."

Chase Masters was a decent man. He knew that but it didn't change the fact that in this moment Derek Shepherd hated him.

"Excuse me.", Derek said, clearing his throat and moving out of the room, towards the porch.

Derek could hear Meredith muttering beside him, cursing him underneath her breath. They had been on the road for the past three hours and were almost at their destination. They'd spent the Thanksgiving with his family in New York.

It had been chaotic and messy and warm and Derek had loved every second of it. Especially the fact that his wife was there with him, with them.

He had been a little apprehensive about her reaction to the palooza of Shepherds she would encounter but she had, surprisingly, taken it well. Meredith had become familiar, if not comfortable with his sisters and their families.

They'd left Connecticut early in the morning since they had a long way to go. Which Meredith was not aware of. Hence the grumbling.

"Can you at least tell me what state we are in?", she practically yelled at him.

"A mental state?", he feebly attempted a joke.

"Oh, you are so dead!". He couldn't stop the laughter bubbling inside him from tumbling out at her clenched face as his eyes collided with her furious silver stare.

Silver.

Oh, he was so screwed.

She turned away from him, silently staring out the window, possibly in an attempt to figure out their location. He slowly moved the car into park as they reached.

He turned around and gently touched his wife's hand, urging her to look at him before she could yell at him or worse, storm out the car.

"Mer, do you trust me?", he asked her softly.

"Of course I do", she huffed.

"Then come with me. Please."

They moved out of the car, Derek intertwining their hands as they neared a large billboard.

"A Brewery? Seriously, Derek?", she looked tired, so tired. "You know that we're trying to have a baby; you know that I'm not drinking. Admittedly we've failed at the baby-making part several times now but I hadn't given up. Have you, Derek? Are we throwing in the towel? Because I deserve to know if you have."

Derek had caught her looking longingly at his younger nieces and nephews multiple times and had felt his heart break a little.

He would make sure that they would have a baby. One way or another. He would make sure of it.

But not right now.

Right now he could do this for her.

"Mer", he whispered, palming her cheek. "Stay here. Wait for me. Please. I'll be back in a second."

He rushed towards the shop, hastily buying two bottles of the fruit beer and running back to Meredith.

He handed her a bottle and waited.

"What is this? Fruit beer? Rubaeus..Founders Brewing Co..Raspberry Ale..."

"Take a sip."

She looked up at him, warily taking a sip.

"We're..we're in Michigan.", she whispered, her voice hoarse before taking a couple of more gulps of the beer.

Then she was moving towards him, holding onto the bottle with one hand while the other grabbed onto the lapel of his coat and then she was kissing him, kissing him like he was her oxygen, like she couldn't hold onto him any tighter, kissing him like they had a lifetime.

She tasted like raspberries, of course, but also like home, she always tasted like home.

"Hey", he whispered ,gently wiping off her tears.

"Thank you.", she mumbled into his mouth.

"Thank you. Thank you.", she chanted pressing soft kisses to his eyes, his cheeks, the corner of his lips.

"You don't have to thank me, Mer."

"I love you, Derek Shepherd. I love you so much."

He held her closer in response; moving his arms around her back as she lay her head on his chest until they were swaying, slowly dancing along to a silent song.

Meredith broke the silence as she called out his name, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

"Yes?"

"This. This is it. This is my favourite Thanksgiving memory."

He kissed her neck and thanked his lucky stars over and over again because he had survived, because he could still hold her, because he was still here.

"You got these", Meredith said taking a seat beside him on the porch swing, holding the two beer bottles in her hand.

"Yeah", he replied, his eyes glued to the cars in the driveway.

"I didn't know that you still-"

"I don't.", he cut her off.

She looked away from him, silently peeling off the beer label, biting her lip until she pushed a bottle towards him, gesturing for him to take it.

"I...I shouldn't.", he finally turned to her as he said this, his voice quivering.

"That's..that's good, Derek.", she replied with a strained smile.

"Good?", he let out a hollow laugh, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "There's nothing good about this situation, Meredith. Fucking nothing."

"Derek", she whispered gravely.

"I'm sorry, i'm sorry. I..shouldn't have snapped at you. Not right now or yesterday.", he said, putting his head in his hands and furiously kneading his temple.

"Look, Derek it's fine-"

"No, it's not Meredith. Yesterday..I was out of line. I shouldn't have said the things that I did. I was out of line. And I'm...sorry."

She made no acknowledgement of his puny apology instead, periodically alternating her engagement ring with her hands.

"You have a headache."

"It's nothing."

"Are you taking any NSAIDs? Anything for the pain?"

"Um, no."

"Nothing? Not even once?"

"No. Meredith why are you-"

"The first step in pain management is to err on the side of caution. You taught me that."

"Meredith I know-"

"No, stop. I've been thinking about this and.. I didn't want to be right but stupid, stupid-", she clenched her jaw as she looked up, muttering still, too low for him to hear.

"You've given up", she stated.

He wrapped his arms around himself, squeezing his torso as Meredith intensely watched him, pain marring her eyes.

His chest tightened at her words.

He hadn't given up. Of course not.

It was just that-. It was just that he-

"The Derek I knew would never do that. He'd fight, he'd fight."

"The Derek you knew died a long time ago", he whispered before he could stop himself.

But Meredith continued, unfazed, "The Derek I knew drove 20 miles every Thanksgiving to get me a bottle of fruit beer, the Derek I know."

He remained quiet, almost ready to leave when she moved closer to him until her knees were pressed against his thighs, forcing him to look at her.

The thing was, Derek had expected her disbelief, even her anger but what had knocked the wind out of him, was her tenderness.

"You don't get to give up, Derek; you have to fight this, you just have to.", she whispered, gently cupping his cheek. "For the kids, for your mom, your sisters.", she ran her thumb across his jaw, traced the scar on his forehead before resting it against his chin.

"You. Are. Not. Alone.", she wrapped her hands around his neck, slightly pulling him forward until their foreheads were touching until she was so close that he could feel her heart beating rapidly, could hear the almost imperceptible crack in her voice."You don't have to do this all by yourself, Derek."

He shut his eyes forcefully, his breaths coming in gasps as he felt her slowly move away from him, her hands lingering as she softly pressed a kiss to his forehead before walking away, leaving him bereft, tears streaming down his face.

As he sat there, fists clenched, her scent overwhelming him, he wondered, yet again if he could just run away.

To somewhere far, far away.

"It was a good dinner, I enjoyed it. Meredith was a wonderful host. Right, Derek?"

"The kids have grown up so much; it's like everytime I visit, they are inches taller and miles smarter. Oh, and your colleagues are all good people, too. And Chase, he seems like a good man and the kids love him as well. That's good, considering they're getting married soon-"

Derek was only half-listening to his mother chatter on about the evening as he opened the apartment door, pushing the door open for her.

For the rest of the evening, Meredith had mostly avoided him, barely acknowledging his presence as she tended to her guests, fielding congratulatory hugs and well-wishers.

Turns out, it had been just as much an engagement party as it had been a Thanksgiving dinner.

Well, good for her. Them.

"Derek, is that what's been bothering you?", his mother asked him, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.

"What, Ma?"

"The fact that Meredith's getting married. You've seemed distracted all evening so is that what's bothering you? Is that why you returned the ring to me?"

"Ma."

"You know that you can talk to me, sweetheart.", her brown eyes fixed to his blue ones.

"Ma, it's not that. Like you said, it's good; he is good for her."

"Derek, it's okay if it hurts; it's meant to", she whispered softly as she took his hands into her own.

He had to tell her. He had to.

His sweet, strong mother.

She who taught him how to ride a bike; who taught him to fight and to give in; who taught him that the world wasn't a wonderland but it was beautiful anyway.

He had to tell her because she deserved a fighting chance, she deserved to know.

He had been selfish long enough.

It was time now.

"Ma, there's something else. Something I need to talk to you about.", he confided, motioning for her to take a seat on the couch as he sat beside her, tightly clutching her hands as he finally, began.

When Derek was a little boy, his Dad used to tell him stories, mostly old Greek legends.

When Derek become a father, he would constantly try to repeat what he had said, looking for them blindly in some long-forgotten part of his brain.

He would go over them again and again, failing most times.

Not because they were tales every child needed to hear but because every time he went over them, he wished, he prayed, he hoped that he would remember the sound of his father's voice.

Derek Shepherd had been twelve years old when his father had died.

And he could no longer remember the sound of his voice.

He had been twelve.

So much older than both of his children.

So much older.

A/N: okay so there you go. Hope you all liked it. Please tell me if you did and again sorry for being gone but I will try my best to update asap. Also what did you all think about the flashbacks? Hope everyone's safe and had a good couple of months!