Richard had sent them home as soon as was ascertained that there were no patients needing their immediate care. He had been adamant about it and hadn't left them any choice. Burke had gone to find Cristina, but Addison had practically pulled Derek through the entrance hall and out the door. He wasn't able to honour her concern for him, all his thoughts were circling around Meredith. He still hadn't seen her and no one had told him how she was. Alive was all he knew. He longed to see her, to make sure for himself that she was alright. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close, just to feel that she hadn't died.
"The girl with the bomb is Meredith." Every time he remembered the moment Dr Yang had said those words, he involuntarily closed his eyes and had to remind himself that it was fine. That she was alive and not seriously harmed. But it wasn't enough. He could tell himself all he wanted, he knew he wouldn't find rest until he had seen her. And so he excused himself from the trailer, left Addison behind not really caring what she thought, and went back to the city, all the way to Meredith's house.
He hesitated on the front steps. He knew it was wrong for him to be here. Bailey's words were still ringing in his ears. That he had lost his right to care about Meredith the moment he hadn't told her he was married. It wasn't fair that he still did, neither towards Meredith nor towards Addison. Although he had to admit, it didn't bother him too much that he wasn't as nice as a husband should be. If he had no right to care for Meredith, then Addison had no right to expect consideration and kindness from him. Not after what she had done to him.
But right now, he didn't care for what was right and what was wrong. He needed to see Meredith, needed to know that she was alright. And so he knocked without having a clue what to say when he finally got a hold of her.
To his disappointment it wasn't Meredith who came to open the door. Dr Stevens approached and although she let him in, the disapproval was written all across her face.
"Dr Shepherd." Her voice was rather cold. At that moment, he was painfully aware of how little regard the other interns had for him since his secret had been made public. He could ignore it as long as they only had to interact on a professional basis, but this was different. This was their home and he wanted to talk to their friend, a woman he had hurt beyond belief.
"Dr Stevens", he could hear the caution and desperation in his own voice. "How is she?"
"Resting."
"Could I speak to her? Please." He added the last word when he saw the defensive expression on her face.
She looked at him silently for a second before turning away from him. "I'll go fetch her", she said in an icy tone.
He nodded at her back and buried his hands in his pockets. Standing in this hallway brought back memories, memories of happier times without wives and decisions made out of honour. Times long gone. They hurt but he tried to hold on to them, they were better than the alternative. Because now that he was so close to finally seeing Meredith, his mind started showing him pictures of how she would look. She wasn't at the hospital anymore so she couldn't be hurt too much, but she had been close to the detonation, closer than any of them and even in his OR, at the other end of the hallway, the ground had shaken.
He could hear Dr Stevens open a door on the floor above him and talk in a low voice. And then there were steps, a light person carefully treading on the wooden floor. They sounded even, no sign of a limb. A first tiny bit of relief.
He watched sockless feet and then black-clad legs appear on the stairs, followed by a red shirt. Meredith.
He didn't notice he had been holding his breath until he finally exhaled at the complete sight of her. She had a scratch on her forehead and a bandage on her right forearm, only partly covered by the shirt. But otherwise she was alright. Standing upright, no serious injuries and able to look at him, confusion all over her face. The impulse to take the few steps necessary to get to her and take her in his arms was overwhelming. But he held himself back, somehow. He knew it was wrong for him to be here at all, so getting near her was out of the question.
"Hey", he said. Not knowing what else to say.
"Hey." She sounded breathy, almost a bit hoarse.
"You almost died today." It was a stupid thing to say but it was the one thing that kept going through his head.
"Yeah, I almost died today."
He felt helpless. He wanted to go near her but he couldn't, he wanted to say so many things but wasn't allowed to. He had to go. He knew she was alright so he had to leave as long as he was still able to. He moved for the door without another word.
"I can't..." Her voice sounded weak from behind him. He turned back towards her. She looked as forlorn as he felt. "I can't remember our last kiss." She seemed almost confused by her own words. "All I could think about was, 'I'm gonna die today and I can't remember our last kiss' which is pathetic but..." She hesitated. "The last time we were together and happy, I... wanna be able to remember that. And I can't, Derek." She looked at him, and he wasn't sure if it was the light that made her eyes glisten or if it was tears. "I can't remember." Her voice cracked slightly.
He could. The memory was still clear in his mind. A bittersweet one, a wonderful moment lost forever.
"I'm glad you didn't die today." It was the only thing on his mind.
The look she gave him was hard to decipher. Sadness? Disappointment? Anger? He would understand each. And it hurt. Even more so because he knew it hurt her, too.
He started to leave once more, not knowing what else to do. When he was already through the door, he looked back at her.
She had turned away from him. And the recollection hit him, harder than he would have thought possible. Her expression when Addison had so suddenly been standing in front of them. How Meredith had looked at him and how she had left.
"It was a Thursday morning." He was surprised by himself that he spoke up. But he couldn't help it. He had to make the bad memories fade away by recalling happier ones. And he wanted to help her. If she couldn't remember, he would do it for her.
She stopped, still facing away from him, and he entered the hallway again.
"You were wearing that ratty little Dartmouth t-shirt you look so good in. The one with the hole in the back of the neck." He chuckled at the memory, fondly. "You'd just washed your hair and you smelled like some kind of ... flower."
She half turned towards him and opened her mouth but didn't say anything. He went on.
"I was running late for surgery. You said you were gonna see me later. Then you leaned to me. You put your hand on my chest and you kissed me. Soft. It was quick. Kind of like a habit."
He smiled sadly. "You know, like we'd do it every day for the rest of our lives. You went back to reading the newspaper and I went to work. That was the last time we kissed." With every word he spoke the recollection turned more from sweet to bitter until he almost chocked on it.
He tried to leave again, but her voice stopped him..
"Lavender." She was smiling. "My hair smelled like lavender. From my conditioner."
"Lavender", he repeated and recalled the scent one last time before he finally walked away, leaving her behind, when all he wanted to do was stay with her.
A/N: So, that's it. If you like, leave a review and tell me, what you think. I'd love to hear it, it's what I published this for in the first place, after all.