Shipwreck:.

Disclaimer:. I do not own any of the characters from the show Grey's Anatomy… except for McSteamy. Well, I can dream.

this is a one-shot story, although if I get a big response, then I do plan on continuing it. also, this is my first GA fanfiction, although I have written multiple others, so please be kind and leave suggestions, plus likes and dislikes

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The raindrops were falling on his head, soaking through to his scalp, making his head numb. Although, he wasn't quite sure if the feeling was from the sheer cold, or something else, something much deeper that was harbored in his soul. He was in the same position he had been so many times before, standing outside that same, rustic door. And once again, it was raining. It was like an omen. Good or bad, he didn't know. Maybe this time he would be wrong, and something good would come of his visit. Yep, he had screwed up big time. Then again, when did ever do things right? And now he was rambling on in his head, wondering what the hell he was still doing standing outside this door, and why he was here again… oh, yes, that's right. Meredith.

So he knocked. And he waited. Then, to his misfortune, her friend came to the door. Not her, her friend. And being the stupid, dumbfounded, complete idiot that he was, he stood there, expecting her to say something. Instead, she just stared him down, with a look similar to that of Bailey's, and that was saying something. A pause, and then to his surprise, the door was shut again.

It began again. He was shocked, coming all this way to be rejected; not by her, but by her friend. Oh, so they all hated him now.

He knocked again. And he waited again. Then, as the doorknob started to turn, and a face peered out from the crack, he saw yet another person who wasn't her. It was the other one. It looked like he was pretty pissed too. At that point, he knew that he looked like a jackass, and that the only way he was going to see her was if he continued to keep his trap shut and just walked right in. So, he reached out and pushed him aside, but only got one foot in before O' Malley's hand collided with his chest and pushed him back outside on the doorstep. However, this time, the door stayed open, only slightly though.

"I didn't open the door completely," George stated bluntly, looking daggers at him.

Confused, he replied, "Um, okay. Are you going somewhere with this?"

"Well, I didn't open the door completely, so obviously I don't want you to come in," George whispered, trying to make his point clear.

Suddenly, another head popped in beside his.

"What does he want?" Izzie asked.

Hilarious. They were talking about him in third person, as if he wasn't even there. This was going great.

"I think he wants to talk to her," George whispered.

"Does he know… well, you know?" Izzie asked.

"Well, thanks to your loud mouth I'm sure he does…"

"What, I didn't tell anyone!"

"Liar," George hissed.

Enough, he couldn't do this anymore, "Okay, can you just shut up for two seconds and stop pretending like I'm not here? I'm here. I want, no, I need to talk to Meredith. Please, can I… can I just come in?"

He watched as they looked at each other, contemplating what to do, and finally, Izzie spoke,

"Fine. You can come in, but she's asleep, so there's really no point…"

They waited for an answer, but he didn't give them one. He walked inside, into the familiar hallway. It was so unique, adorable... so, Meredith. If he could, he would spend every day here with her, alone on the couch, while she huddled against him. He sighed, unconsciously, remembering how it had been only two weeks ago. But things had definitely changed now.

He whipped around, "Upstairs, or down?"

George answered, "In there," nodding towards the television room.

They stood behind and watched from the corner as he made his way toward the couch. There she was, draped across the couch, a flannel blanket twisted around her. Her dark blonde locks spilled messily across her face, blocking most of it from view. As he came closer, he noticed that her normally bubbly and determined features had disappeared, only to be replaced with a miniscule frown. Her eyebrows seemed engraved in deep concentration, like she was pondering something in her sleep.

Carefully, he sat down beside her, and took in a few more of her features before looking to her friends and asking, "So, is she feeling any better?"

George sighed, "Hard to tell, she was like this when we got home."

"Poor thing," Izzie spoke softly.

There was a momentary silence, as he reached over to brush her arm with his fingertips. Then George nodded and left for what looked like the kitchen.

"So," he began, as he began idly playing with the hair framing her face, "Is it… true?"

"Is what true?" Izzie asked with perplexity, though she knew exactly what he meant.

"That she's…," he paused.

"Pregnant?" Izzie finished.

"Yeah… that."

"Yeah," she uttered.

"Yeah, okay," he mumbled, now taking her hand and softly twisting it around, trying not to wake her.

"So…" Izzie began.

"What?"

"Who's… I mean, is it yours?" she asked quietly.

"Who else's would it be?" he chuckled.

Izzie sighed, "It's really not that funny. She's in way over her head, while you're off trying to mend your 'Oh so perfect' marriage."

"Oh, believe me, it was a great joy to go from being in complete bliss with Meredith to hell nights with Satan…"

"Now that was funny," she replied.

There was an awkward silence, while they both looked at Meredith.

"She needs you," Izzie said.

"I know."

"She could lose her job," Izzie stated.

"I know."

"She could end her career," Izzie whispered.

"I know."

"She loves you."

"I love her."

Izzie gave him a small smile, "I know… Well, I'm gonna go see what George is screwing around with. God knows he shouldn't be allowed in that kitchen… You leaving?"

He shook his head, "I think I might stay a while, is that okay?"

"Fine, just try not to wake her."

And with that, she walked into the kitchen, leaving him alone with Meredith.

He sat there, thinking about how foolish he had been. Here she was, the only woman who had completely taken his breath away, stolen his heart, and yet he knew that tonight, he would leave her, only to go back to his trailer and spend the night next to his wife. And he would think about her as he slept, wondering what life would have been like if Addison had stayed in New York.

Tentatively, he moved closer to her sleeping form and reached out to let his hand rest on her stomach. Hard to believe there was something in there, something a part of both her and him. It pained him to think about what she must be going through, such a strong woman, who now looked so vulnerable. And it pained him even more when he told himself that it was because of him.

Startled, he practically jumped off of the couch when he heard Izzie's voice coming from the other side of the room, "You know what I was thinking? I was thinking about how God tries so hard to keep us from giving into the Devil. And every time he sees us being tempted towards something that will ultimately make us fall to our knees, begging to go back to the way things were, he tries his best to make us see the light… Derek, you don't have to let her win. Please, don't let her make your life hell, because if you don't do what your heart tells you, then that's exactly what it's going to be. Hell."

That's when he saw the light. He saw the light, right there, lying on the couch. He saw what he was supposed to fight for, and what he was being forced to leave behind.

He stood up, and without a word made for the door.

"Hey, where're you going?" Izzie quietly called behind him.

He turned around and smiled, "I'm going to fight the devil."

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