A/N - Hmm...this chapter feels kind of different. I wanted to include Denny's funeral, but that meant that this chapter didn't have anyone at the hospital and more with all the interns instead of just Mer/Der and Addison drama. Very strange to write...I don't think I have that good of a grasp on the family of interns dynamic. Oh well...my apologies, I did try! Anyway, the next chapter will be more back to normal. And thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it so much!


Meredith knew better then to expect sunshine on the day of Denny Duquette's funeral, things never seemed to work that way. However, she hadn't expected to wake up to a full fledged thunderstorm. It was the sort of storm that just stretched the fading night far into the day, turning morning into some sort of chill, gray twilight. This is seriously too symbolic thought Meredith bitterly as she dug through the cluttered mess of her closet, searching for anything that was black. She hadn't realized that she had so few pieces of black clothing, but at last she found a skirt that miraculously wasn't wrinkled despite being wedged beneath a pile of jeans. Downstairs, the rain somehow seemed even more pronounced with the larger windows providing a wider display of the sheets of rain. George was seated on the back of the couch, staring morosely out the window. When a particularly large clap of thunder shook the house, he sighed and glanced over at Meredith.

"It just had to rain today," muttered George. "It's been freakishly sunny for days now. What was wrong with all this happening yesterday?" Meredith simply raised an eyebrow at him as she fiddled with the buckle on her shoe.

"Helps set the mood," she said flatly. "Is Izzie still upstairs?" George nodded. "I wonder if I should go get her," continued Meredith as she glanced at her watch. "We're going to be late." Without waiting for George's reply, she trudged back upstairs and into Izzie's room. She found Izzie standing perfectly still, just staring at herself in the mirror. The contrast of all black with the paleness of Izzie's features left her looking almost ghost-like. "Iz," murmured Meredith, walking over to her. Izzie didn't move, just kept staring straight ahead. "Come on Izzie," insisted Meredith, wrapping an arm around her friend's waist. "It's time to go." Finally, Izzie nodded her head and looked away from the mirror.

"Alright," she whispered, her face completely expressionless. She let Meredith usher her down the stairs and out into the car, while George chased after them holding an umbrella.

"How could you forget to grab an umbrella?" scolded George, forcing the handle of one into Meredith's hand. Meredith looked down at the ground, the rain was pelting the sidewalk so forcefully that the droplets were rebounding upward in little broken circles. Her hair had already gotten wet and was sticking to the nape of her neck. Meredith sighed and yanked the car door open.

"I don't know George, it just didn't seem important," she replied absently, her eyes still trained on Izzie, who had simply slumped down into the backseat. George muttered something about his irresponsible women but offered Meredith a weak smile as he got into the car. They drove in silence, nothing but the thick splat of raindrops breaking against the windshield and the squeak and swish of the wipers as the drops were wiped away. But at last, when they were about half way to the cemetery, Izzie sat up straight. She looked as if she had just come out of a trance and was suddenly aware of the world around her.

"Where's Alex?" she asked urgently, glancing around the car as if he might somehow be hiding beneath the seats. Meredith looked up, seeing Izzie's reflection in the rearview mirror. She was frowning, her eyebrows knit worriedly together.

"He's meeting us there Izzie," soothed Meredith.

"Yeah, remember Iz? You had me give him the instructions," said George, twisting about to look at her.

"Right…" murmured Izzie. She nodded slowly and slumped back down in her seat. She closed her eyes and didn't speak again until they had reached the cemetery.

Meredith felt stranded in a sea of black shapes and solemn faces. The grass was slick and she nearly slipped twice just walking to where the service was being held. The rain hadn't let up, and a canopy had been erected to shield off the storm. However, it wasn't a large canopy and Meredith hadn't known Denny that well, so she let the others slip in front of her until somehow she was standing back out in the rain with nothing more then her umbrella over her. She couldn't really hear what was being said over the constant splatter of the rain against her umbrella. It was just a gentle murmur of words punctuated by the occasional gut wrenching sob and quieter, more consistent sniffling. Unable to see the coffin from where she stood, Meredith found herself studying the people gathered. It wasn't a terribly large crowd and she didn't recognize most of the people anyway, although she spotted the familiar faces of some of the hospital's nurses scattered in the mix. Izzie stood near the very front with George and Alex flanking her like bodyguards. Her pale fingers were clutching desperately at the sleeve of Alex's coat.

Meredith suddenly found herself feeling terribly lonely. Everyone seemed to be standing together in tight groups of two or three, arms wrapped around each other for support. Even Burke and Christina, who were rarely openly affectionate, had their fingers laced together into an almost vice-like grip. Meredith stretched her hand out, slowly curling her fingers back into a fist, trying to ignore the sudden desire to have Derek's hand to hold. She shivered and pulled her umbrella closer, reminding herself that she was there incase Izzie needed her. She was there to be strong and supportive, and she shouldn't need someone there to support her. Meredith caught Izzie's eye and smiled encouragingly at her. Izzie nodded slightly, her face already tear streaked. Still, Meredith couldn't shake the heavy cold feeling that seemed to permeate her body. It's just all the rain, Meredith told herself, ignoring the dull ache she felt in her heart whenever she glanced back at the closely clasped hands of Burke and Christina.

Finally the service was complete, and the clustered mass of black broke apart as people headed towards their cars. Meredith breathed a sigh of relief, she wanted to escape the cold forlorn feeling that seemed to fill the cemetery. All it did was confuse her and somehow make her desperately miss Derek. Meredith pulled her jacket tighter to her body as she began walking back quickly. The rain was still falling hard, and she started to slip for the third time that morning. As she cursed at her shoes, a hand reached out to steady her.

"Careful Mer," said George gently. "You may be surrounded by doctors right now, but that's no excuse to go and sprain your ankle." Meredith smiled and nodded her head, letting him help her over to the sturdier pavement. He was talking about the funeral, but Meredith didn't really hear what he was saying. She just let his voice wash over her, feeling relieved to be getting closer to the row of parked cars and away from the aching loneliness of the cemetery. "Are you alright?" George asked after a moment as he turned to look at her.

"What? Why?" asked Meredith, frowning in confusion. "Izzie's the one who…"

"You're crying Meredith."

"I am?" She brought a hand up to her face, feeling how damp her cheeks were. "Oh…" she gasped softly. "No, I'm fine. I don't even know why I'm…" She shrugged awkwardly, wiping her eyes. "Funerals, I guess." She smiled brightly as if to prove that she was fine, and caught sight of Christina walking towards them, bringing Burke along with her. "Hey…what are you doing?" Meredith stammered, watching in disbelief as Christina reached over and swapped her umbrella for Meredith's larger one.

"This rain is pissing me off," hissed Christina by way of reply, as she yanked the collar of her coat up. "Is Izzie coming yet or what?" She leaned forward, waving exasperatedly at the slowly moving forms of Izzie and Alex.

"Christina…" said Burke softly, frowning slightly at her.

"What? I'm completely there for her. I would just rather be there for her indoors. Out of the rain." Burke opened his mouth to protest, but a bolt of lightening splintered across the sky, and he consented with a shrug. "Hey Izzie," added Christina in an astonishingly gentle voice, as Izzie and Alex finally made it over to them.

"Hey Christina," mumbled Izzie, as she let herself slump between Meredith and George. Meredith tilted the umbrella forward so that Izzie stayed out of the rain, managing to forget her own loneliness as she caught sight of Izzie's puffy, bloodshot eyes. Izzie was chewing nervously on her lower lip, her whole face growing suddenly apprehensive. "Hi Dr. Burke…" Izzie whispered at last, and she glanced awkwardly down at her hands before looking back up at Burke with fresh tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry…about the whole…everything with the…the heart," stammered Izzie, her gaze making a rather noticeable shift towards his injured arm. "And Denny…and…if I…" But Burke shook his head, cutting her broken rambling short.

"Izzie there is nothing for you to apologize for," he said softly as he reached out to clap a hand on her shoulder. "And it's still Preston." Izzie smiled gratefully at him, relief filling her eyes.

"Right…Preston," she echoed. Her voice was barely more then a whisper, but it had at least stopped trembling.

"Should we go home now Iz?" asked Meredith, as yet another bolt of lightning pierced the sky and the rain began to quicken. Izzie let her head fall onto Meredith's shoulder, nodding her agreement. Meredith could feel Izzie's tears spilling against her skin and mingling with the raindrops, so she put her arm around Izzie and, with the help of Alex, guided her friend back into the car.

-----

"Should we go check on them? Meredith, should we?" asked George anxiously. He was standing at the base of the stairwell, craning his neck to see upward to the second floor.

"No George," sighed Meredith. "Just leave them be. Izzie wants to be left alone." She walked over to where he stood and peered up the stairwell herself. "She needs time to think, and he…" Meredith shrugged and turned away again, heading towards the kitchen. "He's not going to come down until she does."

"But he's just standing there," stammered George. "Pacing in the hallway…"

"Seriously Mer, Karev's going to wear out the floor up there," said Christina, glaring up at the ceiling. Meredith frowned at her. The creaking sound of the floorboards as Alex paced back and forth could be heard easily throughout the house.

"Just leave them be," insisted Meredith, her voice turning slightly irritated as she began to open up the cabinets. "Just leave…oh there it is," she said quietly, more to herself then anyone else.

"Huh?" Meredith ignored Christina's question and dragged over a chair to reach the top shelf of the cabinet.

"Izzie's reorganized everything," muttered Meredith, as she hopped back down to the ground, bottle of alcohol in tow.

"You're drinking?" snapped Christina. "I gave up a perfectly good day of surgery to be a supportive friend. I gave up my favorite thing, there is no way you still get yours." She reached out and yanked the bottle away from Meredith.

"Okay first of all, alcohol is not my favorite thing," replied Meredith. "And I'm pissed off and miserable, and I'm having a drink." She snatched the bottle back from Christina and made a face at her. "Now either come drink with me or go play watchdog with George over there." Christina frowned and looked at Meredith.

"Funerals make you mean," she said, sounding oddly proud as she grabbed two glasses and followed Meredith to the couch. They had just settled down on the cushions when George finally turned away from the staircase and walked over to them.

"I think we should do something nice for Izzie," he announced.

"Okay, you see this here George? Me on the couch, not in the OR?" asked Christina. "That is me doing nice." Meredith smirked and shook her head as she drank deeply from her glass.

"Something to cheer her up," continued George as if he hadn't heard her. "I think we should bake Izzie something."

"George," began Meredith as Christina snorted into her drink at his suggestion. "We don't know how to bake."

"It can't be that hard," protested George. "I've watched Izzie hundreds of times."

"Izzie's a baker. Giving her baked goods is like offering Mer more sex. Or more tequila…or both really." Christina leaned back against the cushions and shrugged. "It's redundant George," she said simply.

"Hey…what was that supposed to mean?" asked Meredith, turning to glare at Christina. "I am an ex mistress who is currently so…" She paused and glanced down at the glass in her hand. "…mostly sober," she amended. Christina just grinned and patted Meredith on the back. Meredith thought it might be nice to be annoyed, but she figured Christina was mostly right. And besides, the familiar warm burn of alcohol against her lips and down her throat was helping cure her of that aching lonely feeling that had left her longing to just hold Derek's hand. So Meredith only sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

"Come on," coaxed George, backing towards the kitchen. "Even if she doesn't like it, isn't it better then just sitting there waiting?" He smiled hopefully but both Meredith and Christina looked at him as if he was crazy.

"No…" they said in unison, shaking their heads.

"Fine, well I am baking," declared George. "You two can just sit there and be gloomy." He disappeared into the kitchen, and Meredith turned to look at Christina, raising an eyebrow.

"So…are we bad friends now?" she asked curiously.

"Of course not," rationalized Christina. "Izzie doesn't want us to bake, we might…use the wrong mixing bowl."

"Yeah…seriously," agreed Meredith, smirking a little. The two of them fell silent, staring into their glasses. They could hear George fumbling around in the kitchen, muttering to himself as he opened and closed cabinets. "We are bad friends," decided Meredith after a minute, looking back up. "It's just…" She sighed and leaned back against the cushions, closing her eyes as she pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm working really hard to ignore my problems and just think about Izzie's right now. I can't think about baking too."

"Exactly," said Christina. "Bambi doesn't have any problems. He can bake."

"That must be nice," murmured Meredith. "To have no problems."

"Yeah…seriously," agreed Christina, and she closed her eyes as well.

-----

When Izzie finally came downstairs, something about her had changed slightly. She still seemed worn out and shaken, but she no longer seemed so fragile that she was in constant danger of shattering into a mess of tears and hysteria. She even smiled a little as she walked over to sit down on the couch next to Meredith and Christina. Meredith glanced up to see Alex hovering awkwardly in the doorway, seeming uncertain as to whether he should stay or go. She didn't say anything but looked at the empty couch cushion pointedly, and Alex nodded. He walked over and sat down next to them, completing the row of black.

"How are you doing Iz?" asked Meredith cautiously.

"Alright…I'm alright." Izzie shrugged and smiled sadly. "The funeral was hard…but it was nice. To see how everyone remembered him… It helped somehow…it was just…nice…" She sighed, seeming unable to describe exactly what she felt. Meredith nodded and rubbed Izzie's arm gently. Everyone fell silent, but after a moment Izzie frowned and looked around the room. "Where's George?" she asked. Christina snorted and rolled her eyes.

"He's off playing Martha Stewart."

"Huh?" Izzie frowned in confusion. "George?"

"Huh? What? Um…coming!" called a flustered voice from the kitchen. A moment later George appeared in the doorway. He was wearing oven mittens, and had tied one of Izzie's cheerful flowered aprons on over his black suit. His face was flushed and smudged with flour. Christina snorted again and shook her head while Meredith bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Just when I thought O'Malley couldn't possibly gain any more estrogen," said Alex, staring at George in disbelief. Meredith clamped a hand over Alex's mouth, shushing him loudly.

"It's fine. Laugh all you want," said George airily as he straightened his apron. "But I am baking."

"George you don't know how to bake," stated Izzie. "And why are you wearing my stuff?" Christina coughed loudly, the noise sounding suspiciously like "cross dresser." Meredith shook her head and clamped her other hand over Christina's mouth.

"I'm baking," repeated George as the sound of a timer going off in the kitchen sent him hurrying back.

"He's baking," echoed Izzie, shaking her head.

"We tried to stop him," said Meredith apologetically.

"Bambi is surprisingly persistent," agreed Christina.

"He thought it would cheer you up," continued Meredith, looking cautiously at Izzie. But Izzie was smiling, the corners of her mouth twitching upward into a grin.

"You know…I let him help me once before," said Izzie. "He couldn't even tell the flour from the sugar." She sighed and leaned back into the cushions, giggling slightly as she let her head droop down onto Alex's shoulder. The four of them sat there in silence, but there was a comfortable warmth to the quiet, something that Meredith had felt was missing in the somber stillness of the graveyard. When George finally returned, he was holding a tray of freshly baked cookies in his hands. He set them down on the coffee table before going to sit down on the arm of the couch. The cookies were noticeably burnt and misshapen, but everyone reached forward to take one anyway.

"George, these cookies taste like feet," said Christina after a moment, leaning forward to drop her half-eaten cookie back onto the plate. Meredith smirked but didn't say anything, just let her own cookie drop casually down behind the couch.

"Seriously O'Malley, are you trying to make Izzie feel worse?" asked Alex as he grimaced and swallowed his mouthful.

"You know…I would protest," stammered George, blushing slightly. "I would, but…" He moaned and raised a hand to his mouth. "I think I just broke my tooth on one." George shrugged and let his cookie fall back onto the plate as well. "I'm sorry Izzie," he added, turning to look at her. "I wanted to cheer you up. I didn't realize cookies were so…complicated." He smiled sheepishly at her.

"No," said Izzie quietly, shaking her head. "The cookies are fantastic." She leaned back into the couch and closed her eyes, a half smile playing across her face. "Seriously…you guys are all fantastic," she whispered. "Thank you…"

-----

It wasn't really that late. Meredith could see the glowing numbers on the digital clock just above the stove, and therefore had solid proof that it was only 9:02 at night. However, the house felt empty. She supposed it was due to the contrast with its unusual fullness all day, when the house had been brimming with her makeshift family. But now, Christina and Alex had gone home. Izzie, worn out from tears and too many emotions, had already fallen asleep. George had gotten a call from Callie and promptly disappeared into his room. That just leaves me thought Meredith glumly, staring around the dark and empty kitchen. The current silence felt cold and empty, turning Meredith's thoughts back to the dismal graveyard and her own loneliness. She sighed in frustration and got up from the table, thinking that she might as well try and get some extra sleep. However, Meredith had barely made it halfway up the staircase when she heard the doorbell ring. The sound was clear and piercing from where she stood in the silent stairwell. Meredith sighed and started back down the stairs, her breath catching as she reached the front door.

"Derek?"

He was standing outside on her porch, his hair wet from the rain that was still falling. Meredith opened the door and walked out to him, pulling it shut behind her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms and frowning up at him.

"I just wanted to see how you were," he replied quietly, sounding a bit awkward.

"I'm fine," said Meredith, not quite sure what to make of him standing on her front porch. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…funerals are never fun," said Derek, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh…no, I'm fine. It was Izzie who was…" but she trailed off and squinted curiously at Derek. "How'd you know it was Denny's funeral today?"

"It's hard not to notice when all of Bailey's interns are out," he said with a slight smile. Meredith nodded and took a step closer to him, suddenly realizing that Derek had to have come over almost immediately after getting out of surgery. The little lines left from the surgical cap hadn't yet faded from his forehead. Meredith looked quickly down at the porch floor to hide her smile. "Are you sure you're okay Meredith?" Derek asked gently. She nodded, struggling not to shiver as she felt his hand run gently over her shoulder and reach out to tilt her face back up. Meredith slowly raised her eyes to meet Derek's, the light from the street lamp illuminating half their faces but leaving the other sides in shadow.

"Of course, I'm…" began Meredith, but she trailed off and shrugged. "I'm trying," she said quietly, pulling away from Derek and sitting down on the front step. She stretched out her hand, letting the rain graze her fingertips. Derek was still standing behind her, partially hidden in the shadows, and somehow that made it easier to keep speaking. "I'm lonely Derek," she continued. "And confused. I'm so damn confused…"

"You're confused?" echoed Derek quietly. Meredith nodded. "And lonely?"

"Yes…" Meredith had meant to say more, but her voice started to break on just the first word, and she promptly fell silent again. She stared fixedly at the raindrops splashing down the steps as Derek walked forward and sat beside her.

"Why?" His voice was soft and coaxing, but Meredith couldn't bring her lips to move. Because of you…she thought. The answer was painfully obvious. It was Derek. It was always Derek. Always had been, always would be. Always. But Meredith couldn't say that, she couldn't seem to speak at all. So instead, she settled for shrugging and fidgeting with her hair. "Meredith…" She shook her head violently, knowing that she must look bizarre. But the answer to Derek's question was too long and too complicated and too painfully simple all at once, and Meredith just couldn't say it. "What is it?" he continued gently. "Whatever it is, you can tell me Mer."

"I can't," she managed at last. And that was true. Meredith leaned into Derek, her head pressing against his shoulder. She wasn't crying, but her body was shaking violently, trembling with the effort to keep everything bottled up and under control.

"Shhh…" whispered Derek, pulling Meredith towards him so that her head lay on his chest. "Okay…okay, you don't have to," he murmured. "Not now, shhh…just breathe." Meredith nodded, the feel of Derek's hand gently stroking her hair helping to soothe her. Despite everything running through her head, the presence of Derek next to her was enough to calm her. It always was. Finally breathing easier and no longer trembling, Meredith sat back up.

As Meredith sat up, she realized their faces were painfully close together. She could see every line on Derek's face, all the varying shades of blue in his eyes. Even though they weren't touching, Meredith swore she could feel Derek's lips against hers. The loneliness and the confusion seemed to be fading away, leaving Meredith with something happy and safe. But as they stared intently at each other, she realized that Derek was about to kiss her, and that paralyzing fear she had felt at the trailer by Doc's grave came rushing back to destroy everything else. Meredith shook her head slightly and stood up.

"I should…I need to get some sleep," she stammered, taking a step towards the door. Derek sighed heavily, the sound tinted with frustration and confusion.

"Meredith…" he began as he got to his feet. She turned back towards him and nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly at the exasperation in his voice. Derek opened his mouth to speak, but shrugged and seemed to change his mind. "Sleep well Mer," he said at last. Meredith nodded again, telling herself to ignore the dejection in his eyes and just go back inside. But Meredith found herself hesitating, her hand somehow unwilling to open the door to her house.

"Derek?" she called softly, turning around to look at him. He had already walked down the steps of the porch and was standing in the rain. He looked back up at her curiously. "I'm glad you came," whispered Meredith and Derek nodded his agreement. And somehow that was true too, because although Meredith was still confused, they smiled at each other through the curtain of the rain, and she felt just a little less lonely.