Chapter 7: What Happened to Meredith?
The next week passed in slow motion. Derek had once again dove into his work, blocking out everything else. News had quickly spread around the hospital about the suspicions around Meredith's disappearance, and the whispers and stares had returned. It was just so much easier to block out everything and focus on his career. The numbing surgeries, the patients, the consults, the sterile hospital rooms. All of it kept his mind from Meredith and how his life was suddenly spinning out of control again.
He found himself sitting in Detective Henry's office, tapping his fingers impatiently, his eyes hooded, face stern. Hours earlier, Derek had received a message from the detective asking him to meet him at his office, saying he had something urgent to discuss. Derek hadn't let himself think about what that might mean, and diligently obeyed meeting him at the detective's small, disorganized office.
He searched the Detectives face, trying to get a hint about the news he was about to hear. But the detective's expressions were guarded, and Derek couldn't read him. So, he sat back; the hard metal chair pressing against his body and waited.
The detective immediately sensed the doctor's foul mood and knew it was best if he got right to the situation at hand. He cleared his throat and spoke to Derek, "There's not really an easy way to say this, so I'm just going to show you." With that he grabbed a black VHS tape labeled: "Ferry #2, Camera 3", from a drawer in his desk and popped it in to a small, old TV/VCR combo that sat on a cluttered table to the side of the room.
Derek turned and watched as the detective pressed played than searched for the right spot. He furrowed his brows and grunted. What did a ferry boats security camera have to do with anything? He was about to get up and leave when the detective found what he was looking for and stepped out of the way for Derek to see.
Derek's eyes were immediately drawn to the date at the top of the television screen. In tiny grey letters the words: 16 September, 2006; 17:35. Derek became interested and he stood from the metal chair, stepping closer to the small TV. September 16, he thought to himself. That was almost 5 days before anyone noticed Meredith was gone. He suddenly realized he was watching what a surveillance camera had recorded. He instantly recognized the ferry. It was the same one he rode every day. The only one that allowed him to get back and forth from his trailer to the hospital. He was again confused at how this might help and started to question the detective.
The silent man just held up his hand, and so Derek turned back to the screen and waited. It was dark and few people passed by the camera, leaving that side of the deck mostly deserted. They watched only a moment more before a young woman came into view. She had a small frame and dark blond hair that rested a few inches beyond her shoulders. The video wasn't the best quality, and the image was jumpy, but Derek would recognize that form anywhere. It was Meredith. His breath caught in his throat and tears threatened to escape. He willed them to stay where they were and watched the small screen. He was overcome with a mixture of emotions. He hadn't seen that small body in over 5 years and there it stood on the screen before him. All the love and passion he felt for her came sweeping back. Along with it came the ache and pain of not holding her, of not kissing her soft lips, in so long. His feelings were also laced with regret. He had never told her of his true feelings for her. He had never once told her he loved her. The regret was spreading through his body as he watched her. She was all alone, pacing back and forth. She looked nervous and he wondered why. She turned out towards the ocean and leaned her small body against the rails.
It was almost torture. Seeing her again but not being able to touch her. Knowing that she was obviously upset about something but not being able to comfort her. Yet still, he kept his tears in check, and didn't cry.
All of the sudden from the corner of the screen a large man approached her. She was startled and turned to face him. There was some sort of exchange between the two. Derek leaned closer as if to hear what was being said, but it was useless, no sound had been recorded. The hairs on his arm stood straight up and his heart started to pound. The man on the screen started to get angry. He could see Meredith fearfully shaking her head, holding up her hands as if to show she didn't have anything. The man's rage grew, and he shoved his frightened victim against the rail. Meredith lost her balance and slipped, striking her head against a metal bar, and fell over the side, disappearing from view. Her shocked attacker quickly looked around and after seeing he was alone, stuck his hands in his pocket and slowly walked away, not once looking back.
Derek stood still, his body shaking, his stomach threatening to eject its contents. His throat began to constrict, and he could hear his heart, rapidly pounding, in his head. His eyes now stung, the force of holding in the tears almost too great. But, still, he didn't cry.
The forgotten about detective began to speak, his voice sounding far away. Derek tried to concentrate on the words being spoken but was having difficulty. Not enough security on staff that night, and Tapes never reviewed until now, echoed in his head. It didn't make a difference. He wasn't listening anymore. He put every ounce of the strength he had left into putting one foot in front of the other, desperate to escape. His walk turned into a run as he passed through the doorway, down the hall, and out of the building. He didn't even stop as cold rain slapped his face. He just ran harder. He found his jeep and threw it into drive, forgetting to stop at several stop signs and even one red light as he proceeded on. As much as his body trembled in sorrow and his heart bled in despair, he didn't cry.
He soon found himself at his property, his small silver trailer shining in the moonlight.
He jerked the old jeeps metal door open, not bothering to close it behind him, and started running again. He ran until his lungs burned, begging for oxygen. He ran harder and faster than he had ever ran in his life. He soon came to a clearing in the woods that joined with a wide, vast lake. It looked black in the moonlight, and Derek stopped only feet from the edge of water. He leaned over; putting both hands on his knees and gasped for air. He saw a rock the size of a baseball and leaned further down to pick it up. He ran his fingers over the cold stone, then gripping it in his right hand, heaved it as hard and as far as he could. He watched the small, grey boulder land in the water with a small, quiet splash and he fell to his knees. He didn't notice the damp ground soak through his dress pants, leaving his skin cold. He looked up into the black sky, sprinkled with stars as far as the eye could see, and screamed. It was a deep, chilling sound that echoed off the treetops and bounced across the water. It was then, finally, in the middle of nowhere, down on his knees, that Derek Shepherd let the first tear fall.