This is set after "As We Know It", but definitely set before "Yesterday", I just took a while finishing this up (pesky English project) to get it posted before now. I was listening to Gavin DeGraw's More Than Anyone while writing this and I thought it fit, so I stuck it in there too. It's just a better way (in my opinion) that George could have told Meredith how he felt, you know, minus the awful way it ended.

You need a friend, I'll be around
Don't let this end before I see you again
What can I say to convince you to change your mind of me?

"Hey…Mere…" George whispered through the crack in her bedroom doorway, his voice barely audible above the two short taps on the wooden frame he had made with his left hand. It was his right he carefully carried a cup of chicken soup. She hadn't eaten anything since she returned home from work, instead she headed straight up to her room without a word. He spoke softly, just in case she happened to be sleeping.

He heard some kind of quiet muttering from inside, but couldn't catch any precise words. He pushed the door open a bit more to she was awake lying curled up within the warm blanket, though wide-eyes with her right cheek to the pillow within the darkened room.

"Aren't you hungry?" He took a sip from the near empty cup in his hand. Obviously it wasn't for her. It would have been if he had been blessed with a steadier hand. It was strange how he could perform a partial surgery in an elevator, but if he even attempted to carry a whole cup of soup up the chairs he would have found away to spill the hot liquid all down the front of him. Plus, he doubted she felt enough like eating to want any in the first place, but on the off chance she was only a bit hungry, it would better convince her if the smell lingered around as she made her decision.

"I don't think I have much of an appetite…but thanks anyway, George." He wasn't surprised. She was still in shock of it all, she had a right to refuse to do anything but bury her face in a pillow all alone. But it was chicken noodle soup, it helped with everything, or at least it did when he was a kid. Apparently chicken noodle soup only was effective for sick days and boo boos, not near death experiences. Those warranted something much stronger.

He set the mug on the night stand before drawing closer to where she still comfortably rested. He showed a worried smile just before she spoke? "You didn't come upstairs to just ask me about food…did you?" The pause he left before he said anything answered for itself.

"I was scared…" He spoke softly. Meredith slid over to the other side of the double bed to make just enough room for him to lie down beside her. It was like a tradition anymore, though on most occasions it was his room, Meredith on one side, Izzie on the other, and they most often talked to him about their problems, not vice versa. Anymore, living with both these women, he had become more of a psychologist than a surgeon. But he quickly fell in to place by her side, though a comfortable distance from her outline. "I was stared…but then again, I didn't have my hand on a bomb…"

"I heard you got Bailey to have her baby….you've always had a way with words."

George simply laughed in response. "Well, you obviously haven't been listening."

"I'm serious, George." She rested her head lightly on his chest and closed her eyes momentarily. She could feel him slightly tense up as she did so, as this was not part of this odd tradition.

It was moments like this that George loved yet hated so much at the same time. She was so close, but so far away from him. He could feel her warmth, smell the lavender scent throughout her hair, but it was her mind that was in a different place. Her mind was with Derek, with all the problems he had caused, and whatever else was possibly bothering her at the time. And now there was even more to add to list of things and he had no idea which one of the many it was this time around.

"George…" Her eyes fluttered open." Why were you so scared…" She had to ask, didn't she.

He hadn't realized the small circles he had been tracing on her back with his finger tips, but once he did he stopped immediately. "I was afraid for you…you were stuck in an operation room with your hand on …on a bomb… one move and…" He paused in his speaking to take a breath, as he had then just realized that he hadn't done so since she asked the question. "One move and you could have been gone. Mere…I was afraid that I might lose you…that the last time I saw you really would be the last time."

She remained silent for a moment after he spoke, which definitely did not do anything to up his confidence in telling her such things. He only became more nervous. It had been what seemed like forever since he had found it easy to say anything of personal nature to her. So far he was doing relatively well in comparison.

"I don't know why you'd bother worrying about me..."

Though she might have meant to keep the comment to herself, the room was much quieter than she had suspected. He heard it. He didn't know if she was serious. She couldn't be…could she? "Meredith!" He couldn't believe she could ever think such a thing. "Are you kidding me!" He tried to sit up quickly, but thanks to the position he was in, functioning as her personal pillow, simply would not allow such movement to occur.

"I was going to leave the house to you and Izzie." That was even harder to believe as it came out of her mouth. The last thing he would have thought about would be losing a place to live. Even so, he couldn't imagine going anywhere near the house if he had lost her. Everything would he saw would remind him of her, the place in front of the living room picture window where they had laid under the Christmas tree and stared up at the lights after a long night at work, or the small spot on the hallway floor upstairs where a stain from the coffee he had attempted to carry up the stairs had appeared after he had spilled it with those same shaky hands. She didn't know that it was there…she didn't even know about the coffee in the first place.

"Mere…being homeless would be the least of my worries…if I lost you." He didn't know why, but she chose to sit up just then. He did the same soon after. "Why can't you just believe me?" He finally asked.

"It's just…how is it that everything you say is exactly what I want to hear…do you plan it that way or what?" She turned to face his once again. Ever since she had sat up, her back was to him and for some reason she was staring off towards the doorway.

"Mere…all I'm doing is telling you the truth…I don't plan things to say, seriously I can't. Even if I tried I'd just mess them all up." He figured he'd better stop before he said some unplanned words that he would regret saying later.

"At least one person cares…" This time she didn't even bother to lower the volume of her voice, she just said it out right.

"Yes…I do care…more than you know…" He let a nervous laugh slip as he spoke. "But I'm not the only one…do you know the first thing Derek asked after he stepped out of the elevator from the OR floor…he wanted to know if you were okay…I wanted to see you…speak to you…not his wife…just you." It was tough for him to say, but he did anyway.

"Really…then tell me why you're here with me right now…and he's at home with the lovely Mrs. Shepherd?" Meredith insisted, though he hesitated for a moment before he even tempted to answer. "The truth George…"

"I don't know what his excuse is…but I'm here because…" He couldn't tell her, not now."I love you…and I'll always will be right here if you need me…for anything. And I know this is not the best time to be telling you this, but…" He would have continued rambling if it hadn't been for Meredith's lips pressing lightly against his and leaving themjust as quickly as they had arrived there.

When her eyes fluttered open, they met with his own eyes though wide open, confused, just as she expected might happen. "Just give me some time to sort things out…but this…just the two of us…I could really get used to this." She lightly rested her head upon his shoulder, as he sat back against the headboard. He was about to say something when he looked down just to see her eyes fall closed and her eyelashes fan out underneath them. He smiled slightly to himself, and brushed away a piece of hair that had fallen in her face. She was most definitely asleep...and soon after he drifted off to the same dreamland she had ran away to just minutes earlier.

And who would have thought all this would have happened thanks to a can of soup still waiting to be opened down stairs on the counter top. At this point, however, it has been temporarily forgotten.

Look in my eyes, what do you see?
Not just the color, look inside of me.
Tell me all you need and I will try .
I'm going to love you more than anyone.

I'd like to know what you all think. I've been having a tough time staying in character with Meredith, but hopfully this is a bit better this time around. I appreciate any comments you'd like the throw my way...good, bad...or ugly...but hopefully not too many of those.