Meredith paces her bedroom a week later, one hand on her stomach as the other repeatedly rakes through her hair. She's pregnant with William's child, and his execution is in two short weeks. Weeks that in her mind, can't go by soon enough.
At this point, word has spread through her house that the baby's father is William Dunn, and no one wants to say a thing to Meredith about it. Derek and Maggie are on duty right now, Derek standing not far from her bedroom door in the hall.
"Did you hear me?" Cristina asks from the bed. The blonde stops pacing at looks at her friend apologetically, she had completely zoned out. brown eyes roll, and the cardio surgeon repeats herself. "I said, they're making me start back at work part-time in two weeks."
"You think I'll still have a death threat over my head by then?" Meredith remarks sarcastically, the stress from everything happening right now coming out as anger and a short temper.
"I wish you didn't have a death threat hanging over your head in the first place." Cristina fires back. Two can play at the wittiness game.
Meredith rolls her eyes and sits on the edge of the bed next to her friend, laying back to study the ceiling. Three prescription pill bottles sit on her bedside table, only one of them touched. Both of the prenatal vitamins are unopened, while the Zoloft has been used once or twice.
"Your appointment is this afternoon," Cristina says, her gaze not leaving the phone in her hands.
Meredith sighs. "I just want this to be over."
"I know. Are you planning on going to his execution?" The cardio surgeon asks hesitantly, now turning to take in the woman on the bed.
"Yes." The blonde answers confidently. "He took the lives of seven women and almost me too, I want to see the life drain out of him."
Cristina frowns, not expecting such dark words to leave Meredith, but smiles slightly at the same time, lying back on the bed as well. "You're all dark and twisty."
At this, Meredith laughs a bit. "I've been dark and twisty for the past seven weeks. You're just now noticing?"
"You weren't very bright and shiny before, I missed the long nights at Joe's drinking so much we can't see straight."
"Tequila's in the cabinet." Meredith shrugs, pointing across her bedroom.
"You have tequila up here?"
"I have tequila everywhere. And before you ask, I haven't had any of it since I found out about the baby." Cristina doesn't push her further, the two women are content to just sit and enjoy each other's company in silence.
Though, it's not long until Meredith speaks again. "Am I a terrible person?"
"What?" Cristina sits up. "No, of course not. Why would anyone think that?"
"I-I don't know. I'm getting an abortion in a few hours and I just..."
"Mer, look at me," Cristina demands, and sad green eyes meet brown. "You're not a terrible person. Not in the slightest. You're doing what's best for you, which is the most important thing right now." When Meredith doesn't respond, Cristina frowns. "Are you having second thoughts about an abortion?"
"No, no. It's what's best for you, you're right, I don't want a baby. I-I like think it's what's best for this child too, it doesn't deserve to grow up in a world where it'll only be recognized as what its father has done and I can't give it a decent life. I'm getting the abortion."
Cristina studies Meredith, searching for any signs that she's lying or just saying what she wants to hear. When she finds none, the cardio surgeon relaxes back into the bed again. "Okay."
An hour later, Meredith, Cristina, and Maggie walk into the OB office, and the first face they see is that of Dr. Katharine Wyatt. The therapist leans against the receptionist's desk, giving a small smile when she sees Meredith walk in. Maggie sweeps the area before allowing anyone to sit. The waiting room is empty today, and Katharine leads Meredith over to the furthest corner, out of earshot.
"You're completely sure about this?" She asks.
"Yes," Meredith answers without hesitation.
"I know we've been over this, but you can still give the baby up for adoption or-"
"Dr. Wyatt, I made up my mind, I'm having an abortion, today."
"No doubts?"
"Of course I have some doubts, but they're completely outweighed by the reasons I should do this." Meredith, since her conversation with Cristina earlier, has grown more confident in her decision, pushing away her guilt and trying to focus on the good things. Katharine nods and stays seated where she is when Meredith's name is called.
Later, Addison walks Meredith to the door. Dr. Wyatt is still sitting right where she was before, though now there are another two women in the waiting room. Maggie and Cristina are not far behind.
"You're an amazing woman, Meredith. Don't hesitate to reach out to me at any time, okay? It's done, hopefully, you can move past this free of any hard feelings," Addison says, getting a nod and forced smile from Meredith before she turns and heads back into the office. Meredith crosses the room to where Katharine is waiting and stands next to her therapist in silence. Cristina gives her some space, standing near Maggie who is quiet, in full agent mode.
"So?" Katharine prompts.
"I'm not pregnant anymore," Meredith whispers. "I-I feel relieved. How horrible is that? What kind of person feels relief after..."
"You're not a horrible person. The sooner you get that into your head the better. Take a nice shower when you get home, try to relax, and do something to clear your mind. Take the Zoloft, I know you haven't been taking it as you should be. Don't dwell on this, okay? I'll see you again in two days."
Meredith nods, slowly walking out of the office with her two escorts, back home.
When they get there, Derek is waiting. Meredith goes to her bedroom immediately, and both Cristina and Maggie leave her alone. Derek, however, follows. Knocking lightly on the door, he announces his presence and asks if he can come in.
When he gets permission, he slowly opens the door and closes it behind him, heart softening at the sight of Meredith curled up in bed under the covers. He crosses the room, taking a seat by the foot of the bed, struggling to sort through his own emotions.
"I'm sorry," Meredith is the first to speak, and his gaze snaps to her upon hearing her broken, flat tone.
"Don't be sorry, Meredith. You did what was good for you, and that's what's important."
He watches as a frown settles over her soft features, her eyes closing tightly. "Were you happy?"
"What?"
"When you found out I was...pregnant. Were you happy? Did you think it was yours?"
Derek falls quiet, trying to pull words together to properly express what he wants to. "I don't know, honestly. I didn't give myself much time to consider it."
"What if it were yours?" Meredith's voice breaks, so soft he can barely make out what she's saying.
"I still would have supported you in whatever choice you wanted to make," Derek forces the words out, though, he doesn't know if they're entirely true. If it had been his baby, he probably would have felt much stronger about the subject. Possibilities run wild in his mind, images of him, Meredith, and their children running around in this very house.
He's always wanted a family, and he's sure he wants it with Meredith. He's ready for parenthood, but she's not. She's been through so much trauma, no matter who the father of the child was, she couldn't be its mother.
"I still love you, Meredith. I only want what's best for you, too. If that was getting an abortion, then so be it. This doesn't change how much I love you. Nothing ever will."
Meredith bites her lips together, holding her breath to prevent a sob from escaping her chest. She can't break down. Not now. Not here. She doesn't understand how it's possible that the man currently sitting on her bed can still have romantic feelings for her, but she doesn't question it. Trying to soak up the words, Meredith is surprised at how good it feels to have such confident reassurance that she is loved unconditionally.
"Can I..." Derek swallows thickly, watching her internal struggle. "Can I hold you?"
The surge to cry lessens, and Meredith opens her eyes slightly to look at him again. "Yes. Please."
After two weeks of mostly laying in bed, watching terrible TV shows, and eating more, Meredith stands in front of her closet, staring at her clothes.
"What the hell am I supposed to wear?" She complains, pulling out a pair of light blue dress pants.
"I don't know, I've never been to an execution before," Cristina mumbles, looking over four outfits she has laid out.
"Is this too much?" The blonde asks, wearing the dress pants and a white blouse.
"No, that's good," Cristina replies, going to put on her own clothes.
The entire FBI team is at Meredith's, ready to leave for William's execution. This is the first time Meredith's left her house since her abortion for anything besides therapy three times a week. There's been nothing from Matthew since the threat, but the agents refuse to relax, they know he's still out there and that would be exactly what he wants.
In a flash, they're piled into three separate cars, making the silent drive to the maximum-security prison across Seattle. When they arrive, Quinn Perkins appears out of a shiny blue Mercedes-Benz next to them, looking sharp and confident, as always.
"Ladies, gentlemen," she greets the group politely, walking up to the building with them. It's a large, tan, brick facility. There are fences twenty feet high with barbed wire along the top, and watchtowers placed periodically along the perimeter. Three security guards meet them at the entrance, and the entire team of agents pulls out their credentials, showing them at the same time. The gates are opened and they're escorted by two guards into the building.
There are multiple security checkpoints, and it takes a long time to finally get to the sitting area packed with folding chairs, and a large glass window in front. Meredith's eyes dart around nervously, constantly checking behind her, afraid that she'll see William, though she always only sees Olivia, who gives her a reassuring smile or nod of her head .he FBI team has formed a protective circle around her as they walk; Derek by her side and Olivia just behind her.
Meredith takes a front-row seat, furthest from the door. Cristina sits on one side, Olivia on the other. Silently in agreement, the rest of the agents take the seats surrounding the surgeons. Alex sits next to Cristina, and surrounding them are the trained individuals with guns on their hips.
Glancing around, Meredith recognizes some people from the trial, friends, and family of the first seven women. Almost all of them have different emotions written out on their faces. Nervous, angry, cold, sad.
It's not long before a loud beep announces the entrance of the man who has been haunting her every moment for the past few weeks. She tenses instantly, feeling her heart rate pick up.
William Dunn is wearing the same orange jumpsuit he was in during the trial, three guards struggling to restrain him. The serial killer is thrashing around, fighting the men holding him and guiding him to the table in the center of the room.
Meredith has no clue if the glass is one way or not, but her eyes are cold and hard and never leave William as she watches them strap him to the table. He's going by lethal injection, which Meredith finds he's undeserving of, he deserves to suffer a long and painful death.
When he's secured onto the table, William seems to accept his fate, turning his dead eyes to the glass, where he locks onto Meredith. The blonde tightens her jaw, frozen to her spot, but doesn't look away. A toothy smile appears on William's face as he looks at her, his glare menacing, but Meredith refuses to remove her gave, wanting to see the life leave the man who tortured her for so long.
William bursts out laughing as the injections start, uncontrollable, evil laughing, and before Meredith knows it, the laughter slows and stops, as well as his breathing. He doesn't look at her or anyone, just up at the ceiling, but she can see his face and body relax. The monitor next to him flatlines, and it's over. The prison must have a curtain or something because her view of the room is soon cut off and replaced with darkness.
Meredith's heart is pounding as she stares straight ahead, fast and shallow breathing, unable to pull her eyes away from where William was just moments ago. Everyone around them begins to stand and clear out, but she's stuck to her spot.
The people surrounding her share confused and concerned looks, and Cristina hesitantly reaches a handout and places it on Meredith's shoulder. As soon as contact is made, Meredith jumps so much she nearly falls out of her chair. Cristina pulls her hand away instantly, watching as the blonde stands and backs into the wall next to her, using it as support as she closes her eyes, struggling to remain aware of her surroundings and not be thrown back into the cellar where she was kept by William.
The group waits awkwardly, not wanting to rush her. Hesitantly, Olivia approaches her and tries to bring her back to the present. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, Meredith is able to stand on her own feet and starts to slowly walk out of the room. They're all silent as they walk back to their cars, each struggling to process what they had just seen. When they arrive, they begin to pile into each vehicle, but Jake stops glancing around.
"Desmond, you coming?" Derek calls, leaning against the side of his SUV that had Meredith, Cristina, and Olivia in it.
"Um..." The blonde agent's gaze darts to the Mercedes-Benz not ten feet away, where Quinn is sitting in the front seat, the door still open, watching him with a faint smirk on her face. "No. I'll catch a ride with Quinn," he decides, quickly making his way to the woman and climbing into the seat with her.
Derek shakes his head, chuckling at his agent as he climbs into his own car. Olivia frowns, avoiding looking into that blue car next to them. "He's a manwhore," she remarks, getting a laugh out of Derek.
The three FBI cars get into formation, one in front, one at the end, and the one in the middle holding Meredith. The drive back is just as quiet as it was there.
That is, until they're on the highway.
Out of nowhere, there's a loud screech of tires and a van comes skidding across the lane they're in, clipping other cars and sending vehicles spiraling around them. The FBI drivers slam on their breaks, airbags deploying as incredibly loud crashes and screams can be heard from all around them.