Disclaimer: own nothing at all, just a sucker for these characters. (Recommend listening to Sparks- Coldplay while reading this chapter)
The first time Meredith had ever snuck into an OR, she had been seven.
It had been a Sunday, and her mother had been called in for emergency surgery and Meredith had accompanied her. She had been given clear instructions to stay at the nurses' station, until Meredith had watched Ellis rush into an OR, her interns trailing behind.
She had quietly made her way to the gallery, standing at the corner with her arm tightly clutching her anatomy Jane as she watched her mother's nimble fingers move, as she watched her piece back the puzzle, as she watched the interns watch her mother.
Meredith had been mesmerized by the sounds, the people, the process.
By her mother.
They say your life flashes before your eyes as you face death, the people you have loved dearly, the people for whom your heart breaks.
And yet, as Anthony fired, it was her mother that had been on Meredith's mind.
That day.
The sounds. The people. The process.
Her Mother.
Her voice had stayed with her, even when she'd fallen with Derek, even when her fingers had turned red, even when they'd managed to disarm the shooter, even when the cops had arrived.
She tried, yet again, to push her mother's voice to the back of her mind as questions filled her brain.
Why had Derek put himself in harm's way?
Why had he done that for her?
Why had her mother filled her brain?
whywhywhywhy
The more she thought about it, the harder it was to breathe. So she fixed her gaze to the wall and continued working.
"An intern could do this, Grey.", Derek whispered, his eyes searching for hers. It was the first she'd heard from him since everything had happened.
He had been lucky, incredibly so.
The bullet Anthony had fired had barely missed them, Derek's momentum propelling them. Still, the bullet had hit Derek's arm but somehow, somehow it had missed all major nerves and blood vessels.
A superficial laceration.
He didn't even need stitches.
She knew he was fine, everyone had told her so yet she found herself avoiding his confused blue eyes as she cleaned his wound.
His unflinching stare forced her to acknowledge his words after minutes of silence, "I don't mind."
"Meredith I-"
"Oh God, oh Dear God. Derek! I..I just got out of surgery and I didn't know..I didn't know! The chief told me..told me that you'd been shot-", April Kepner rushed into the conference room, her face flushed, tears brimming her eyes, almost to the point of hyperventilation as she moved toward Derek.
"April-", he began, a gentleness overtaking his features as Meredith slowly backed away. Kepner bridged the distance between them, the anxiety around her was tangible.
Meredith watched Shepherd tenderly stroke her cheek with his unaffected arm, calming her, reassuring her until April pushed herself in his arms, resting her head in the crook of his neck while he rubbed her back, quietly whispering in her ears.
Shepherd and Kepner.
Right, that made sense. Of course, it made sense. It made perfect sense.
She knew that she should have thanked him for what he'd done.
For helping her. For pushing her.
For saving her life.
But all she did, as an unfamiliar pain flared in her chest, was walk away.
It was as if she was grieving, grieving for something she'd never really had.
After the day's events, almost everyone from the hospital had made their way to the bar across.
Surgeons. EMTs. Nurses.
All of them.
Every person Meredith turned to, looked exhausted to their very bone, every face bearing the sorrow, the guilt.
They'd tried their best, she knew that they all had.
Yet they'd lost people, destroyed families.
Everytime she closed her eyes the images of Eleanor's kids filled her brain, their slumped shoulders, their terrified faces.
She shook her head, trying to let go of the images when she heard cheers coming from the back of the bar.
They were grieving, yes but they were also celebrating. Out of the thirty-two patients, victims who had come in, they had managed to save twenty-six of them. That was an incredible statistic but that was exactly what it was-a statistic.
Her eyes briefly grazed over Shepherd and Kepner, a demure part of the celebration, his arm in a sling, the other around her shoulders.
"Stop staring at him and his girlfriend.", Cristina whispered, a chuckle leaving her.
"What? I'm not- I wasn't staring at them.", she replied incredulously. "I didn't even know that Kepner was seeing someone."
The smirk on her best friend's face widened, a sparkle in her eyes accompanying it now.
"I never said I was talking about them."
"Screw you.", her laughter turned raucous and Meredith couldn't help the smile that filler her face.
She'd almost lost this, lost all of them.
She had been hounded by her friends afterwards; Izzie going full Mama mode on her, George with his concerned doe-eyed stare, Alex had rolled his eyes at her until hugging her tight. Her sister had been unable to stop her tears. But, it was Cristina who had stood at the back, waiting. She had volleyed colourful cuss words at her until she too had wrapped her arms around Meredith, so hard, so hard that for a second it had been hard for her to breathe.
These people were her family, they were all she had and she could have lost it all.
Had it not been for Derek Shepherd.
Derek freaking Shepherd.
She inhaled sharply, her hands mindlessly twirling the empty shot glass in front of her.
"What I don't understand is..the why. Why? Why did he do it, Cristina? He hates me. Why would he willingly put himself in front of a gunman?" For me, she didn't add. She didn't have to.
"Maybe he's like you. You know, loves torturing himself."
"Ha ha, you're not funny."
"I don't know, Mer.", Cristina's voice sombered. "You would have to ask him. Do you think it's got to do with that first day-"
"Meredith.", she turned to face the source of the voice that had cut off Cristina's trail of thought. If she were being honest, she was glad for it. She didn't want her person to finish that sentence, to analyse the details of a long-forgotten past, one that barely occurred.
"Michael.", his polo was half-tucked out, his hair messed up and it looked as if he was in physical pain, his face contorted, the frown lines accentuated. Michael had been tending to the other victims when the whole shooting debacle had occurred and she'd only just seen him. After hours.
He moved forward, an arm reaching for her when he suddenly retracted, pain written all over his face. She watched his chest rise and fall rapidly, the anguish in his eyes.
He was a good man, a good man. Who loved her. Who had been made aware of the danger she had just faced.
"Mike.", she whispered., "Come here", she reached for him and he let go of the jacket in his hand to engulf her in his arms. Meredith rubbed his back gently, providing what little comfort that she could.
She had needed this just as much. She had needed the intimacy, the solace. Not particularly his, she understood but him, nonetheless.
She was also acutely aware of the fact that what she was doing was so so selfish but if her mother had taught her one thing, it had been to be selfish.
And at the end of the day, she was her mother's daughter.
A few hours later, most everyone had left, the hospital staff being paged to an emergency. All her friends had left too. Michael as well. Bailey had made it clear that if she or Shepherd were found anywhere near the hospital premises as much as attempting to enter the parking lot, there would be 'consequences'.
So Meredith sat nursing her glass of water, waiting for the tequila to leave her system. Or at least waiting for its effects to mellow down.
Michael had been by her side throughout the night, only leaving briefly to attend calls from his home. He'd grounded her, in a way. After the day's events, her mind wouldn't stop, wouldn't let her breathe but the mindless chatter around her, Michael's warm hand in hers, Cristina's long glances kept her distracted, kept her mind from wandering.
But now with everyone gone, her mind went back to its constant loop.
The how. The what. The why.
She sighed against the glass of water when Joe suddenly arrived at the bar, placing a shot glass filled with an amber liquid in it.
"Joe, I didn't ask for that."
She had to drive herself back home so she needed to sober up even as the urge to get black-out drunk populated her mind.
"I know.", the man replied cryptically as she arched her eyebrows at him.
"It's ginger ale.", somebody whispered beside her.
Meredith shifted, her eyes finding Derek Shepherd's blue ones. Her gaze flicked to the identical glass in his unarmed hand. Somehow he had crept up on her with his ridiculously soft eyes and his weird choices.
She faced him with the same expression she had confronted Joe with.
"I know you prefer tequila but Joe said you had to drive back so I figured that this would have to do. Plus I can't drink either, what with all the painkillers and stuff.", he finished slowly as a slight flush filled his cheeks. He was embarrassed she realised. At the idea of relieving some of his pain, at the idea of giving in to the painkillers. She understood it, of course. She was a doctor too, after all. They were historically bad patients. Yet she found herself rolling her eyes at his stupidity.
She also silently noted how he had changed his mind. She had distinct memories of him refusing any sort of painkillers in the trauma room.
Somehow, he had changed his mind.
Probably because of his girlfriend, a small voice whispered in her head.
His girlfriend.
April Kepner.
"So you and Kepner.", Meredith couldn't help herself. Derek shifted uncomfortably at her statement, biting his lip.
"Um, yeah.", her eyes never leaving his face, urging him to continue.
"We've been on a couple of dates, yeah.", he seemed hesitant. As though, the details were too personal, too sacred for him to share. Especially with his arch-nemesis.
"That's nice."
"Hmm."
They sat in silence for a few beats before Derek cleared his throat, his fingers nervously playing with the strap of the black sling.
"Anyway, the reason-why I.. the ginger ale shot.", he sighed, pinching his temples.
He raised his shot glass, blue eyes finding their way to hers.
"What you did today was incredibly, thoroughly stupid."
Meredith rolled her eyes, exasperated. She couldn't help the bitterness surging through her at his words.
Of course, he would raise a toast to her impulsivity, to her recklessness.
Celebrate her near-death experience.
Of course, he would.
"But-", he paused for a second, the glass still in the air. She witnessed his eyes soften, the traces of a smile on his face, "But, it was also incredibly brave. You saved all of our lives today, Meredith."
Derek didn't wait for her to raise her glass as he gulped down the contents of his.
Had Derek Shepherd just thanked her? For saving his life?
She couldn't make sense of it, any of it. They didn't do this, whatever this was.
They didn't thank each other, appreciate each other.
They didn't bring each other ginger ale shots and reluctant smiles.
They were supposed to hate each other. That was it. That was the extent of their relationship.
That was it.
Right?
Still reeling from the day's events and now, yet another action that was so uncharacteristic for Derek Shepherd, Meredith impulsively, recklessly spoke, "Why? Why did you do it?"
When she was met with silence, she continued," Jump in front of that gunman, I mean. I mean you despise me-"
One look at his face and Meredith stopped in her tracks. His arm was fisted at his side, his eyebrows pinched, an angry curve to his pressed lips. And his eyes, his eyes had turned a stormy blue with rivulets of black in them.
"Grey.", she could very easily make out the hostility, the contempt in his voice. "I know that you think I'm an asshole, but I'm not that fucking cruel. I would have done it for anyone, anyone at all. I know you think very little of me but...but I would never have not helped. "
His voice trembled, a slight shake to his hand as he finished, almost mid-sentence and hastily left the bar.
She had seen him angry plenty of times before. Most times she was at the other of it yet she'd never seen him quite like this, never seen his eyes so conflicted, so anguished.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Not like this.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Especially, especially the part where her heart refused to slow down.
Especially the part where she followed him outside.
"Shepherd!", she found him standing outside the door, staring intently at his phone, the ugly red backpack hanging on his good shoulder.
It made her pause. The colour. The images. The day.
She had realised that with his injury Derek wouldn't be able to drive and with everyone else occupied in the hospital, he had no way to get home.
He turned at her voice, eyebrows arched.
"Yeah?"
"Do you need a ride?"
He opened and closed his mouth, fumbling for words; bowled by her offer.
"I'm calling an Uber."
"I can drop you. It's on the way."
"No, it's not."
"Okay, yes, it's not but-"
Meredith looked up at him, biting her lip willing him to understand, to accept. To take what little she was offering.
It wasn't an apology but it was an attempt nonetheless.
Somehow, he understood and relented.
"Fine.", Derek motioned for her to move toward the car, following her silently.
She waited for him to comment on the too-loud interior, the stack full of books on the passenger seat, the messy dashboard instead, he simply shifted the books to the back seat and settled.
They sat in silence for more than half of the ride with him only speaking to guide her through the unfamiliar streets.
The air felt charged, it felt like if either of them as much as moved a little too much, a little too fast it would cause explosions, catastrophic ones.
But Meredith needed to sort this out, needed him to know that she never meant to imply that he was a cruel man.
Yes, they had their differences and yes, she hated him but her intention had never been to make him feel small, to hurt him.
Again, it didn't make any sense but somehow she felt that it was imperative that she cleared the air.
"About earlier.", she began, swallowing loudly." I think you got it wrong."
He refused to meet her eyes, still staring out the window.
"I didn't mean to insinuate that you were cruel, I..I never meant that, Derek."
He finally looked at her at the use of his name. Meredith knew that she was breaking one of their unspoken rules but then, he had already done that earlier that evening.
He remained tight-lipped even after her half-apology but his shoulders seemed to soften as he relaxed into the seat, his eyes now trained to the windshield.
"Um, you can change the song if you want.", she offered yet another olive branch, possibly the last one on her part. It also occurred to her that her voice was much more shrill as these words left her.
"No, it's fine."
"No, really, it's fine if you do. I'm not even listening at this point."
Derek angled his body toward her, his eyes flicking to the stereo for a moment, the end of "You Are In Love" playing from it.
"I like Taylor Swift. I like this song."
"What?", she turned her head so fast she was almost certain she would get a Whiplash injury.
"Watch the road!", he yelled out.
"The road's empty."
"But-go back to that. Repeat that. You like what?"
He rolled his eyes at her incredulity, shifting his body to hers.
"What? Is that really so hard to believe?"
She side-eyed his t-shirt, raising her eyebrows,"You're literally wearing a Guns 'n Roses shirt."
"And that means that I need a materialistic symbol or article of clothing for every artist I enjoy?"
"Well, no-"
How could she tell him that not in a million universes would she have imagined Derek freaking Shepherd enjoying Taylor Swift.
How could she explain her surprise? How could she say that it was just because of the way he was?
That it was because of his usually abominable taste in music.
That it was because he was older.
That it was because he preferred healthy breakfasts over pizza.
That it was because he used phrases like 'articles of clothing'.
"I thought you said that I was the most predictable man on this planet.", a large smirk adorned his face, a sudden sparkle in his blue eyes.
"You are. Boring, too."
"Sure you believe that? Anyway, news flash, Grey: you don't know me. At all.", his voice barely above a whisper.
She gulped. He was right. She didn't know him. And her assumptions about him were slowly crumbling. And perhaps, she didn't have the right to call him boring or predictable but this, this is how they functioned.
Sarcasm and mockery. Jabs and attacks.
But the past few hours had changed that, she realised. They'd somehow moved past the comfort they shared as rivals to something more..complicated. Something she didn't want to think about.
The radio was now playing some song by Kings Of Leon, one she didn't recognise when she heard Derek quietly humming along to it.
He had a nice voice.
She didn't know that he could sing, or chose to do so along with the radio.
Or, in her presence.
Again, proving his point.
She didn't know this man. At all.
"Why would you think so though? That I couldn't like certain songs?"
Why wouldn't he just let this go?
He had been talking rather nonchalantly but his body spoke another language. He had shifted himself completely toward her, his back pressed to the door, knees touching the gearbox. His head was tilted to one side, eyes fixed to her face.
"You're telling me you don't listen to other genres of music?", he scoffed lightly.
"No, of course not." She paused, drumming her fingers on the wheel. "Actually, there was a time in my life where I exclusively listened to hard metal."
"See, exactly. Then why would you assume differently about me?"
At the lack of response from her, he continued, a huge grin on his face, "Admit it, Grey, you were wrong. I am as unpredictable as they come. Just admit defeat."
She rolled her eyes," Now, my hard metal phase stemmed from a pink-hair-i-hate-the-world-and-everyone-in-it high school era. You on the other hand? I bet you were the jock, the homecoming king. Tell me, Shepherd, were you on the Varsity team too? What was it? Football? Baseball?"
She watched, from the corner of her eyes, as the grin grew wider, crinkling his eyes.
"Oh, you just love losing, don't you?", a heady chuckle left his body, the sparkly-eye thing returning.
"In high school, I was a hundred and ten pounds and back then, I hadn't discovered hair products so I had an afro. I was also a proud member of the band."
The grin had morphed into a smaller, gentler smile.
She hadn't expected that.
Derek Shepherd was charming, insufferably so.
And as much as she hated admitting it, he was also very very good looking.
So to think of him as a gangly, awkward teenager with an afro confounded her but it also, managed to put a smile on her face. A genuine one.
She waited for his remarks about her assumptions and her defeat instead he quietly said, "Pink hair huh? I bet that terrorized your mother."
"Oh, yes. Yes, it did. But you know what almost gave her a heart attack? The septum piercing I came home with."
"No way. A septum piercing?"
"I'm pretty unpredictable too, Shepherd.", the stupid smile hadn't left her face, only grown.
"Ah, you accept defeat then.", he stated smugly.
"Your backpack- it's ugly."
"What kind of a comeback is that? You're off your game today, Grey.", he scoffed at her.
"No, this isn't a comeback. Just your backpack. It is very ugly. Especially the colour.", she muttered softly.
He stayed mum for a few beats, side-eyeing her as she swallowed thickly.
"I've had this bag for almost a year now. You didn't find it ugly then.", his brows were furrowed, his voice unexpectedly gentle.
Somehow he knew. Knew that this was something that was bothering her, that this wasn't one of their usual games. And somehow she knew that he knew.
He waited, waiting for her to gather the courage to begin.
"Today, when..when you-", she took a deep breath, "the colour..it's the same.", she'd almost stopped now, her knuckles had turned white, her breaths coming in short.
Derek didn't rush her, instead his eyes silently, calmly urged her to go on.
"The colour of your backpack. It's the same as the blood. Your blood. When he shot at us today, when you fell. It's the same damn colour. And I can't get it out of my head. So yes, ugly."
She didn't continue, just fixed her gaze outside to the flickering lights.
The silence inside the car was so loud, she could hear it pounding her ears, surrounding them.
Derek said nothing at all.
She was grateful for it.
She spotted the small house at the corner. She'd seen the outside of it a couple of times when she'd dropped off Alex. It was a two-storey house with a small backyard.
Derek shifted, coming to terms with his surroundings. Meredith slowly stopped the car in front of the house, suddenly, inexplicably feeling bereft.
Of what, she couldn't quite understand. Or didn't want to, really.
Derek cleared his throat, looking out the window, "Right, I should head out.", he mumbled pointing to the house.
She nodded imperceptibly, nervously biting her lip.
Suddenly, he paused, his fingers tangled in the handle of the door.
"You look like shit."
"Excuse me?", Meredith grumbled, eyebrows raised.
"Yeah, you look dead on your feet."
"Shepherd, you have no right to say that and..and if you think that because of what happened today-
He raised his arm in mock surrender, an urgency on his face.
"All I meant was-", he slowly started, "It looks like you could use some coffee."
"And I make good coffee."
Meredith deflated. Did Derek Shepherd just offer her coffee? Like a decent human being? Would he poison that coffee? That must be his plan. Why else would he-
"I mean you look like you're gonna wrap the car around a tree and honestly, I would much rather be there to witness it. So coffee?"
Meredith rolled her eyes. They sat in silence as Derek fidgeted with the handle, Meredith looking out the other window.
"Are you trying to lure me inside to kill me? That's what you do right? You're secretly a serial killer."
A wide grin appeared on his face, his crow's feet deepening. "Well, if you go inside and find a room full of machetes and preserved dead bodies, would that make me unpredictable?"
Meredith's lips upturned, she just hoped that he missed her sparkle.
This felt like a game, a new one.
"The only reason, and I mean the only, I might slightly agree to this ridiculous idea is to go inside and prove how freaking predictable you are, Shepherd."
"Looking forward to it, Grey.", he shrugged his shoulder, an unfamiliar comfort developing between them.
Just as they were about to exit the car, a loud banging on Derek's window startled them.
Liam stood outside, confusion etched on his face.
How long had he been standing there for? How had they missed him?
Derek opened the door and climbed out. She gave herself another second to recover, her heart beating out of her chest, before doing the same.
"Hey, Grey.", her boss greeted her with a warm albeit tired smile.
"Crazy how I almost lost both of my best residents today, huh."
Meredith focused on her worn-out sneakers, on the drops of blood, she would never know if it was from one of her patients today, or from that of Derek's injury.
The three of them stood in silence, until Liam cleared his throat, "Anyway, where's your phone?", he addressed Derek.
"Um, it's dead, I think."
"Right. Well, April was worried. She couldn't reach you and she knew you couldn't drive so yeah- give her a call once you know-", he tilted his head slightly, in what she assumed was a gesture considering her.
"She is still in surgery, but still call her I suppose. She was pretty worried."
Derek caught her eyes, a weird longing in them so she hastily bent down, attempting to open the door.
"Grey, come in some for coffee?", the head of the department asked her.
"No, actually, I was about to head out. But thank you, Dr Martinez."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I should..get back. It's getting late."
"Oh, alright. Thanks for getting him home safely.", he gave her a warm smile, genuinely grateful for what she had done for his friend.
Liam glanced at the two of them, Derek staring blankly ahead, her shuffling her feet and she knew that he could feel the tension, the discomfort.
"I'm exhausted so I'm gonna go and pass out.", he turned, gently squeezing Derek's good shoulder, nodding at her.
"I am glad though", he stopped for a second, "that I didn't lose my best two residents today. Real glad."
"Also it's time you started calling me Liam, Grey.", he added as an afterthought before leaving them to enter his house.
"Right so, I should go.", she swallowed, still avoiding his gaze.
Derek periodically looked at his phone, clicking on the power button intermittently.
He had people who cared about him, who needed assurance.
He had a phone call to make, and she was keeping him from it.
Meredith climbed into her sedan, Shepherd quietly watching as she drove away, the ugly backpack still on his shoulder.
Hello! I know, I know that I've been gone so long. Pls pls, forgive me. But life got in the way, tbh.
Anyway here's another chapter. Sorry for leaving y'all on a cliffhanger for so long. Genuinely did not mean to. (not that evil lol)
So let me know what you guys thought of this one! I love hearing from you guys always and would really really appreciate some feedback rn.
So yeah, enjoy! (hopefully haha)
Oh yeah, happy holidays to all those who celebrate!