Chapter 20- An Anchor of Hopelessness (TW: Suicide)
If Derek had actually been smart, he would have prepared for the fantasy he had been building with Meredith to come crashing down. He had known he was hiding all the facts from her, had been all too aware that she didn't exactly know what he had been carrying in the suitcase she always talked about. He had also known that he would have to tell her everything at some point, so that she could really understand why he had decided to live this way for the last eighteen years. He should have prepared for that eventuality but he had been dreading it. He had been terrified of seeing the horror and pity in her eyes that he had seen today, and for awhile, he had just wanted to feel normal for once in his new life.
Every day when he woke up, he tried to remember why he lived the way he did. He ran, pushing himself until he could barely breathe, as memories of what exactly he had done assailed him. Coming to Oakbrook Falls had been his last ditch effort to escape the constant reminders of the family he had killed. He built routines to try to get control back from the guilt that sometimes overwhelmed him, he dodged any attempts at matchmaking to honor Alison, and he settled into a life of loneliness to atone for all of the things he had done wrong that night, the worst of which had to be surviving. But he hadn't expected Meredith Grey, and he was pretty sure what had happened today had to be punishment for trying for a sense of normalcy in the last few weeks.
Meredith was beautiful and smart and everything he had ever wanted in a woman twenty years ago, even though she didn't remind of Alison at all. Her independence and strength was so different from his fiancée's dependence on her family and more gentle attitude. But he never wanted to compare them, if only because the person he was now was so vastly different from the Derek Shepherd who had climbed into the back seat of Noah's brand new Ford Explorer. He wasn't even sure Alison would like the man who he had become, but the irony of that was simply that if she had lived, he wouldn't be here now, desperately seeking normalcy with a pregnant unemployed journalist.
It had all been an insane fantasy, the idea that he could keep the suitcase far away from Meredith and Hailey and build a place for them in his life. Besides the fact he never should have wanted it in the first place, it was just crazy to think it was even possible. He had been the sole survivor in an accident that never would have happened if he hadn't told Noah to turn around, if he had just taken Mark up on his offer to the bartender and Derek could pay him back later. His stupidity had led to a whole family dying, wiped off the face if the earth, and there was no way Meredith could ever look past that. She deserved so much more than everything he had stuffed into the biggest suitcase he could find, and her face when he had told her what had happened to the Springer family confirmed that.
But he hadn't expected his parents to come visit unexpectedly, which was his own fault. They worried about him the most every year on the anniversary of Alison's death and he should have known they would come out to see him this year. But he hadn't and they had been the ones to blow his suitcase wide open, to destroy the fantasy he had been enjoying so much. For the first time in twenty years, he had remembered what it felt like to be happy and eager to be with someone, and now it was all over. She had barely been able to get out the normal platitudes after he had told her and no matter what happened next, he wasn't stupid enough to think she would somehow choose to be in his life. It was over, and it barely surprised him how easy it was going to be to just slip back into the world he had lived in before Meredith Grey had slipped in the shower.
After he had told her, after he had seen the horror in her eyes, all he had wanted was to be alone. He had wanted his routines back in the most desperate of ways and he had immediately called Patty to check in on the manger building before he had gone to his office to get all of his paperwork in order. Before Meredith and her unborn daughter, his Saturday routine had been set in stone and he tried to find the same comfort in it now. He had checked lab work, got his files in order, and made a list of patients he wanted to bring back in. Usually, the monotony of the paperwork side of his job lulled him into a kind of mindless peace, but it wasn't happening today. His brain was spinning, picking up the worst memories of his life and spitting them out at random until his hands shook and his chest burned. Everything was fair game to the tornado, from his dad's injury to Meredith's tear-filled eyes and he wasn't sure how he would survive the onslaught today.
Maybe he deserved it. He had lied to Meredith, he hadn't been honest about what he had caused, and now some cosmic force was knocking him back for it. Even worse than the dishonesty, he had desperately tried to be happy for once and that had to be against every rule of atonement in the world. In just a few days, the twentieth anniversary of Alison's death would be here and he had no business trying to be happy or move on. Not a single member of the Springer family had been able to move on from that day, to find normalcy and he couldn't just take that chance. Noah had been newly married and he and his wife had been talking about having children. Melanie had been so young, so full of hope and dreams for which she had never gotten to reach. Ed and Lori had thought they had the rest of their lives with the promise of grandchildren and retirement. And Alison...Alison had dreamed of a life with him that he had happily promised her. He didn't get to dream of happiness when he had stolen it from so many people.
He took a deep shuddering breath and reached into his desk drawer for the bottle of Scotch Dave had left for him. He tried to only drink on the bad days, just like his mentor always had, but today felt like the kind of day that begged for Scotch. He poured some into a glass and took a long sip, his lips pulling into a grimace as it burned the back of his throat. It meant he was still alive, and not numb yet, but he could at least try to fix that. He was tired of thinking, of hearing gunshots and smelling blood and seeing flashing lights, and he didn't know what else to do besides reach for numbness. He poured a little more Scotch into his glass and then paused when he heard the door open from the front of the clinic. "Hello?" He called as he stood slowly, still gripping the glass. He had no idea what time it was but it seemed far too late for anyone to be coming to the clinic without trying to call him first. He gripped his drink tighter and then paused when he heard the all too familiar sound of his dad's wheelchair. "Mom, Dad," he sighed as he walked down the hallway towards them.
He knew his parents were getting older, time, stress, and illness had taken their toll, but tonight he was suddenly struck just by how old they both looked. Both of them were completely gray now, but there were deeper lines in his Mom's face than he had ever remembered and his dad's body was starting to stoop in the chair. They were both bundled against the cold, and he noted the snowflakes that fell from Ma's scarf as she unwound it. "I guess we should have figured you'd be here, bud," Dad stated as he took off his winter hat and let his gray curls shake loose.
"I...what are you guys doing here?" Derek asked before taking another long sip of his Scotch. He wasn't sure if he was angry at his parents for destroying the fantasy or thankful that they had reminded him of what he couldn't have, but he did know the urge to yell too often accompanied the need to be alone.
"I think that's pretty obvious, sweetheart," Ma stated as her eyes fell to his glass. He could see the question flash through her eyes and he shook his head before turning back towards his office. "Derek Christopher, that's not an option this time."
"I'm fine," he called over his shoulder as he walked back to his office. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to talk about Alison or the accident or even Meredith, who was bound to come up after they had seen him kissing her. It didn't matter anyway and he didn't want to talk about it anyway. He just wanted to drink and work on his paperwork until he could go home and try not to think.
"Derek Shepherd, you do not turn your back on your mother," Dad said in a tone Derek hadn't heard in years. He turned slowly to see his dad wheeling quickly down the hall, his blue eyes flashing. "We have given you twenty years, and you're going to stop and give us twenty minutes."
"I need to work," he said softly as an image of his dad from thirty-five years earlier filled his head, blood dripping from his lips as he struggled to speak. "I can't...I can't tonight. Please."
"When have you been able to, sweetheart?" Ma asked softly. "And do you think you ever will be able to?"
"I don't...you don't..." Derek shook his head before walking into his office and falling into his chair. He took a deep breath before pulling strength from his glass and then stared at the people he had once loved more than anything in the world, the people he had always gone to with his problems. "Why? Why did you...how could you...they don't..."
"Breathe, bud," Dad advised. "Take a deep breath."
"I don't need to take a deep breath," Derek growled but he took one anyway. "They don't belong here."
"Who?" Mom whispered.
"They!" Derek gasped. Tears were building in his eyes and his chest was burning as his throat started to fight the sob that was building. "They don't belong here. No one...Oakbrook Falls is where I am. It's...they're back...they're in Manhattan. They're on Long Island."
"The Springers?" Dad frowned. "Buddy, they're dead. They don't...they're not anywhere."
"You brought them here!" Derek insisted. "You couldn't leave well enough alone and you brought them here. They don't...this isn't where they belong, don't you see that?"
"Oh, Derek," Mom breathed as she walked around his desk. Her strong arms immediately wrapped around him and he turned towards her, just like he had in the hospital thirty-five years ago, just like he had twenty years ago, and just like he had eighteen years earlier when she had found him throwing up Dad's pain pills as his head had spun. "Listen to my voice, sweetheart," she whispered now. "Stay right here with me and listen to me. We didn't bring them here. We would never...they're here because they came with you. They're in your desk drawer at home and they're right here." She ran her hand gently over his hair, her fingers tapping at his scalp. "They don't go away just because you move away. Surely you know that by now."
"You don't...you don't understand," Derek whispered.
"Don't understand what?" Dad asked. "Grief? I sure as hell understand that. You don't think I used to spend every day wondering why my number didn't come up instead of my brother's for that shithole of a war? Or that we didn't grieve after the shooting?"
"That's not the same, Dad, and you know it," Derek shook his head as he pulled out of his mom's arms. "It's different and no one here knew what I had done."
"What you...first of all, sweetheart, you didn't do anything," Mom whispered softly. "And what are you talking about no one knew? Dr. Shetland knew."
"What?" Derek frowned as he looked between his parents. "That's...no, he didn't. I never...Dave never asked and I never...he couldn't have known."
"Derek, do you really think that grumpy old man would have hired you without any information?" Dad raised his eyebrows. "When you came asking for a job, he called the hospital to make sure you hadn't been fired for stealing drugs or something. And when they told him there had been some kind of accident and you had left, he reached out to us."
"You...you told him everything?" Derek breathed as he turned to look at the picture of his mentor on the wall.
"We told him it was your story to tell but he was stubborn," Mom smiled. "And we told him about Alison, Noah, and Melanie. We told him about the accident and your injuries. He asked how you were handling it and we...I told him you were having trouble finding your footing again. He thanked us and never said a word about it again."
"But...he never said anything to me," Derek whispered. "He just...he came to me and said I started that Monday and that was going to be it."
"I think Dave understood pain, sweetheart," Mom whispered. "And I think he understood the lengths people go to when they need to avoid pain. He...he was a good man. And I think he did what he could for you."
"I just can't believe he knew," Derek murmured. He looked down at his shaking hands, trying to pinpoint a moment when Dave had acted like he might have known, when he might have looked at Derek like he would have looked at a murderer. But there was nothing and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment. "Why did he...if he knew..."
"Because you didn't do anything, Derek," Dad said firmly. "You forgot your wallet. Noah made a u-turn, thinking the light was about to be red and that taxi driver blew the yellow light. You did not cause that accident."
"You don't get it, Dad," he insisted. "You don't...I should have..."
"Don't you dare say it," Dad said firmly as Mom rubbed Derek's back. "Don't you say that, buddy."
"Sweetheart..." Mom whispered. Her voice sounded choked and Derek thought he saw his dad's face start to crumble. He didn't know how to put this into words for them and really, he didn't want to. He didn't want to talk about the accident with his parents or how he had spent most of the years afterwards wondering why he had survived. They had spent far too many years worrying about their adult son and he had a feeling it had taken its toll on them. Right now, in this moment, it felt like he was killing his parents in slow motion and he didn't think he would survive adding their names to his list.
"Buddy, at some point, and I would hope twenty years is that point, you have to stop hiding from us," Dad sighed heavily. "You ran off and we've...I'm getting damned tired of tiptoeing around my own son only for him to pull further back."
"I'm not pulling back," Derek insisted softly.
"You moved here instead of letting us support you," Mom pointed out. Her hand squeezed his shoulder gently and he found himself fighting the sudden urge to grab it and hold on as tight as he could. "You fought every attempt at getting you help. The priest, the therapist, the doctors...you fought them all, Derek. You took the things they said that could validate the way you were feeling and refused anything else. And then you ran off here and have stayed frozen like some kind of half-finished statue. How is that not pulling away from us?"
"I-I'm sorry," Derek whispered through the tightness in his throat. "I know I'm not...I have been doing better. Things are good here. I'm good here."
"No, bud, you're not good here," Dad shook his head. "You've trapped yourself in your routines...a coping mechanism that was supposed to help short term, by the way. I know because the doctors suggested the same thing to me after the shooting. You can't survive off those routines forever."
"I really...I can't do this," Derek shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry I'm not the son you want me to be—"
"Who the hell said that?" Dad frowned before looking at Mom. "I didn't hear either of us say that, did you, Carolyn?"
"You guys don't get it," he continued as he stood from his office chair. "This isn't wrong place, wrong time like the shooting. This isn't...Noah and Bethany were going to try for a kid. He told us that in the car that night. They wanted...three kids, close together. So not only did my mistake kill a whole family...what about that? What about Bethany?"
"Last I heard, she's remarried and has two little ones and a step daughter she loves," Dad shrugged.
"Oh."
"It's okay to move forward, sweetheart," Mom whispered. "No one is saying to move on, but it's okay to move forward. Alison never would have wanted this life for you. She never would have wanted you to live in this cage you've built for yourself. Noah and Melanie wouldn't have wanted it either."
"I'm not...that's not the point," Derek insisted. "This is...who I am now. And it's working, okay? It's working and you guys don't have to keep expecting me to kill myself. I'm fine."
"You know, bud, for a second today, I thought that might actually be true," Dad nodded slowly. "We came up on you kissing that pretty blonde—"
"Meredith," Derek whispered. He ran a shaking hand over his hair as he felt his heart break in his chest. He hadn't known it would be their last kiss. He had always figures there would be one, but he hadn't known that would be it and he felt like he had been robbed of something he couldn't name.
"Meredith," Dad nodded again. "I saw you kissing her and I thought...well, I thought you had decided to forgive yourself."
"Stop," Derek ordered. "Stop."
"I think we both thought you had finally decided to have the life you deserve," Mom murmured. "At the very least to live again."
"Can you both just please stop?" Derek demanded. "This isn't...I don't know what I was thinking. She's alone. In three months, she'll have a baby girl but she's...I can't do this to them. It was a stupid...I can't do that to her and Hailey."
"Do what?" Mom asked. "Be happy?"
"I really don't want to talk about this anymore," Derek groaned as he reached for his jacket. "I wanted to get some work done and not think...she knows the truth now and it's over so it doesn't matter. None of this matters. So you guys can go back to the city and just leave me alone because the anniversary will go away in a few days and winter break will start and I'll be busy with kids."
"No," Dad stated as he rolled to block the door.
"No?" Derek frowned.
"No," Dad repeated. He was sitting up straighter in his chair now, his brow creased as he stared at Derek. "Your ma talked me into giving you space and time but it's been twenty years and I'm an old man. I'm not going to spend my remaining years on Earth waiting for my son to be my son on his terms."
"Dad—"
"No, you're going to listen and you're going to listen good," Dad stated. "Your ma and I love you, Derek, we have loved you since the day we found out about you. Before you ever drew a breath or kicked at my palm, we have loved you. And maybe we've done some wrong in our lives. Maybe we should have gotten you more help after the shooting, maybe that would have taught you how to deal with trauma. But we have loved you and supported you."
"I know that, Dad," Derek murmured.
"I'm not done," Dad glared at him, his eyes dark and sad. "Now I don't think you can possibly understand what it is like to watch your kid lose everything in the blink of an eye. You think we don't understand pain? Do you know what it's like to come off a sixteen hour shift just to find out that your son has taken a bottle of pills because he doesn't want to live anymore?"
"Mike..." Mom's eyes widened.
"No, Carolyn, he needs to hear this because apparently the only person who has ever felt pain is Derek Shepherd," Dad insisted before turning back to Derek. "Do you know what it is like to watch your child give up, Derek? Do you know what it's like to watch the baby you once cradled in your two shaking hands and plan a life for just decide he doesn't want to live anymore? Because you survived taking my pills, Derek, but you still decided not to live that night."
"That...that's not true," Derek whispered as guilt flooded his body in a painful wave.
"Baloney," Mom sighed heavily. "That's baloney, Derek, and you know it. We...oh, sweetheart, I am so proud of you for the work you do here. Dave told us what being a small town doctor means. He told us that a small town doctor has to give his life for his patients and the town and never regret doing it. But you have used the town to hide and to avoid living."
"You know what happens to muscle when you don't exercise it, Derek?" Dad asked.
"They atrophy," he murmured.
"They atrophy," Dad agreed. "And that's all you've been doing here. Atrophying. And we have watched it, trying not to say anything because we wanted to believe things would get better. And all the while, we've been terrified to get a call that the atrophy had become too advanced and you really had given up again. But we can't say that to you. We can't say one damn word to you because only you get to decide how to heal, according to Kathy anyway."
"I'm not going to...I'm sorry I scared you guys like that," Derek whispered.
"That's not the point, dear," Mom whispered. "That's not...the life you have missed out on—the life you gave up on—could have been something so incredibly beautiful. And I refuse to believe it can't still be something wonderful."
"I don't..." he swallowed heavily as he took a deep breath. "I almost wanted it again."
"With Meredith?" She asked quietly.
"She makes me feel real," he explained, staring down at his hands. "She makes me...for a few weeks, I wanted her to have a space in my life. I wanted her daughter to have a space in my life. I painted the nursery, I built her crib, and all I could think was that I wanted it. And I wanted to be the man Meredith deserves. I wanted to...I wanted to love them."
"Why the past tense?" Dad frowned.
"Because she deserves more," he looked up at his parents as his shoulders shook. "Because Hailey's biological dad hurt Meredith and all but destroyed her life and I don't want to repeat it. She and Hailey are innocent, they don't...I can't add another two names to the list of sins i have to atone for."
"Derek..." Mom breathed.
"I lied to her, Mom," he shook his head. "I told her about Alison but that was all I told her. I didn't tell her about the rest of the family and when she...you told her and she asked and I saw the look in her eyes. She doesn't want to bring a murderer into her daughter's life."
"You were angry, Derek," she took a small step towards him. "And speaking from some experience, when you get angry or overwhelmed, you can be a little scary. And I'm sure there was a lot to process."
"I can't do it," he insisted as his body shook in an overdue release of the emotions coursing through his body. It was a noise he had never heard before, an animalistic sob that he couldn't rein back in, "I don't deserve—I can't. I can't..."
"Stop punishing yourself, sweetheart," Mom murmured before pulling him into a tight hug. It was like she was trying to hold him together, like her strong arms could keep him from crumbling into a hundred pieces that wouldn't be able to be glued back together. "It's time to stop."
"There's nothing wrong with living again, Derek," Dad squeezed his arm. "Pain might not always go away, but it can change. It can improve and change until it's manageable. You just have to stop trying to make it as intense as it was on day one. All it's doing is making you atrophy."
"She deserves better than this," he gasped.
"Why don't you talk to her first about that?" Mom suggested. "But, Derek, every day has to be a conscious choice for you to keep moving. Grief and pain...they have robbed you of so much. But if you want to love her, if you want to love her baby, then you need to atoning for a sin that was never yours to begin with."
"I don't know how to do that," he admitted. "I don't...it's not that simple, Ma."
"And it never will be," she murmured as she kissed his cheek. "But wanting to love someone is a step. Now just keep walking. Even if you stumble, open yourself up to the steps."
"Just decide to live, buddy," Dad advised. "Even if you'll always be right here in Oakbrook Falls, just decide to live."
"Yeah...yeah," Derek breathed as he wiped his sleeve across his eyes.
"We love you, sweetheart," Mom murmured. "And while I have a million questions about your Meredith, I can save them for later. Right now, Dad and I are going to go back to the bed and breakfast and enjoy some hot cocoa and the snow before bed."
"Okay," Derek sucking in a shaky breath. "I...Chris's tomorrow morning at eight?"
"I will never turn down that old man's coffee," Dad laughed softly. "You okay, bud?"
"Yeah, Dad," He nodded. "I love you guys."
"We know," Dad smiled. "Get some rest. Wait to do the thinking until the sun is up. Thinking is easier when the sun is up."
"Okay," Derek agreed as he watched his parents leave his office. He planted his feet against the floor as he sucked a deep breath in and then expelled it slowly. His brain was swirling even more now and he wasn't sure how to feel. Guilt, anger, and a deep sadness he couldn't put into words seemed to take turns coursing through him and all he wanted was to breathe. He wanted to believe that the Springers wouldn't expect him to atone. He wanted his parents to gain back the twenty years they had wasted waiting for him to get better. He wanted to believe that there was some way in the hell of his life that Meredith could possibly still want the space in his life.
And it was that thought that brought back the tiny, fledgling feeling he had had whenever he was around Meredith. He hadn't been able to name it and it had been years since he had felt it but it seemed to be growing, stretching its wings with every breath he took. Hope. It was hope that pushed back at all of the other feelings that had fueled him for twenty years. It was probably stupid and probably wouldn't lead to anything but he had to...he just wanted to know that it was possible. It was so new and so different, but he wanted to feel it. He wanted to feel his chest opening up with the thought of being with Meredith, even if it went against everything else he had believed for twenty years.
He reached for his jacket and then paused in front of the picture of Dave Shetland. In it, he was smiling, a wry, crooked smile that had usually prefaced a moment of wisdom. Never once had he thought his mentor had known about the reason behind his desperate search for something new or his overblown need for control. Dave had never asked questions and he had never pushed Derek past his comfort zones. But there was a smart living within the hope, the thought that Dave had done his best to rebuild a broken twenty-seven year old man, until he could stand on his own two feel again. "You're a real bastard, you know that?" He said softly to the picture before sucking in another breath and turning off his office light, still clutching the tiny flutter of hope that beat against his chest.
So hold your head up and tell yourself that there's something more
And walk out that door
Go find a new rose, don't be afraid of the thorns
'Cause we all have thorns