Derek wakes up the next morning immediately recalling the night before. He runs his hand over his rough face before looking at the clock. He has to be at practice soon, but he needs to talk to Meredith. He needs to explain it to her. He needs to explain to her that him wanting to wait has nothing to do with not wanting her, but everything to do with wanting her so damn much.

He rolls out of bed and walks out of his room. He doesn't bother to brush his teeth of to get dressed. He is in his boxers and his morning erection has already gone down. He just needs to see her. He needs to talk to her.

He walks out into the living area and notices that her door is open. He quickens his pace as hope appears across his face. If she was still angry with him, she would have shut her door. Wouldn't she?

The hope disappears from his face as he approaches her room and sees that it is empty. He turns back to look around the living area. That is when he sees the piece of paper lying on the coffee table.

He slowly approaches the coffee table. He can just make out her loopy writing. He bends down and picks the thin sheet of paper up off of the table.

[iDerek,

There has been a slight change in schedule. Your practice today will only be for an hour since the first game of the World Cup is tonight. There is a ticket for you to this game in an envelope on the bar if you choose to go. Also enclosed in the envelope is a small stipend for your expenses during your stay in Madrid.

I'm not sure if it was mentioned to you before, but I shall state this now. There is to be no sex nor drugs during the World Cup. They WILL perform random drug tests and your failure to pass will have severe consequences.

If you have any questions, feel free to email me or ask, although I believe I have made everything very clear. Have a good day.

-Meredith Grey[/i

Derek stares at the sheet of paper in his hands, unsure of what to make of it. One thing was clear, Meredith was returning to strictly professional behavior. If he hadn't seen her things spread throughout the room, he might have thought she had left. He didn't know where she was, but at least he knew where she would eventually be.

He sighs as he stretches his arms above his head. It is while he is doing this that he notices something lying on the floor next to the couch. He walks over and picks it up. It is a picture of a very young Meredith being held by a young woman, whom he guesses is her mother. He stares at the picture for a moment. He knows that her mother is dead. Everyone knows that her mother is dead. It was a big case back in the early nineties. He remembers being a young boy and his mother watching something about it on the television.

He hadn't even thought about the effect that might have had on Meredith. It must have been very difficult for her to grow up without a mother. He tries to recall the details of the crime. Someone had broken into their house and raped and murdered her as Meredith slept in the next room. They had caught the guy. He remembers watching Meredith's father on the television and seeing pictures of her flash across the screen, both of them looked grief stricken.

He places the picture safely back on the coffee table. Things are slowly starting to click into place, but he has the feeling that there are still a few pieces of the puzzle missing. He gets her hesitation. He gets her awkwardness and her tomboyness, not that he has a problem with these things. Actually, it is these things that turn him on the most. They make her different. They maker her his Meredith.

What he doesn't get is the thing that seems like fear whenever it comes to him. He doesn't get that. He doesn't get it now, but he plans on finding out. He plans on solving the beautifully written mystery that is Meredith Grey.

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Meredith Grey walks the streets of Madrid, needing something to get her mind off of the awful events that unfolded much to her horror last night. He didn't want her. When it was all boiled down, he didn't want her. She is like a repulsion to men. She doesn't get it.

She breathes in the sweet Madrid air as she tries to hold the tears back. She will not let him make her cry. Not again. She cried enough last night. Last night after she was completely humiliated. Horrified really. How was it going to be now? Living with him is going to be hell. She just knows it. She won't even be able to look him in the eyes. His eyes. His perfect eyes.

No. She will not do this. She will not let another man bring her down. She will not be that weak woman. She will not. How does she not? How does she keep from becoming that weak woman? She doesn't know. She doesn't know but she is sure as hell going to try.

A hard look crosses her face as she turns on her heel to head back to the hotel. She will not let him do this to her. She will not let him push her around with fear. Her ex did that enough and she will not live that way again. She refuses to. She is not going to hide. She is not going to run. She is not going to avoid. She is finished being weak Meredith. It is time for her to be strong. It is time for her to take control over her own life instead of letting those around her wield the power.

She slows her pace. That is easier said than done. In an ideal world, Meredith would be strong. But this world, this world has beaten her down so much that she is happy to still be standing. She is happy to still be able to smile.

She just doesn't get it. Ever since she met him he has been undressing her with his eyes, giving her the sex eyes. She knows that he had to jack off in the airplane bathroom several times. So, what changed? What made her so repulsive to him? She just doesn't get it. Will her father be the only man to ever love her? Will she never find that one man who makes her world stop spinning on its axis?

She doesn't want to be alone. She is sick of being alone. She has been alone all of her life. Her father loves her, but her father is a busy man. And she wants to feel that other kind of love. The love that a person has for their soul mate. The kind of love that causes your pulse to increase rapidly when you see them, hear them, or even pick up a hint of the scent. She wants to feel that love that makes you feel as if you are on cloud nine. She wants to feel that. She thought she had that. She thought she had that until her boyfriend basically forced her to have sex and then dumped her.

Then again, that's her life. Everyone leaves Meredith eventually. Her mother died. Her boyfriend left her. Her father was there but not really. So, who does she have? She doesn't really have many friends. She has a problem with people only wanting to befriend her because of her money. She refuses to buy her friends. She would rather be alone than surrounded by people who suck the life force out of her.

But she thought he was different. She thought that he was different from all of those who preceded him. She saw a depth and sincerity in his eyes that scares the shit out of her. It scares the shit out of her because she already feels like she can trust him. Her. The girl who has never trusted anyone. Why would she? It turned out that the man who killed and raped her mother was the best friend of her father, so why would she trust people?

What really scares her more than anything else, she wanted to trust Derek. She wanted him to be that person for her. That person who saved her from the bay that she seemed to be constantly falling into. She is getting tired of treading water and she wanted him to be that person to jump in and rescue her from the depths. She doesn't realize that she wanted this from him, but she did. She saw hope for herself in his caring eyes. She saw a knight in shining armor dressed in a Galaxy uniform.

Meredith Grey saw the prospect of true happiness for the first time since before her mother was brutally raped and murdered and in a split second that prospect came crashing down. In his refusal to accept her as she was, her hope dissipated and all that remains now is complete despair.

If he couldn't accept something as mundane of sexual inexperience, how would he accept the rest of her vast collection of carry on? It's hopeless. It's useless. All that she can do now is hope that she doesn't tire out as the weight on her shoulder increases and the temperature of the water decreases. She is slowly dying. She is slowly sinking into the oblivion and she doesn't even know it. She is sinking into the oblivion and even if she did know it, she wouldn't care. She yearns to disappear. She yearns to escape the cruel world that has dealt her so many blows. The world continues to boob-slap her and frankly, she is tired.

Okay...this was ready last night but I had problems posting it. This is necessary filler I guess you could say...you see why Mer is the way she is...at least some of the reason..so yeah...hope you like...

Thanks Bonnie for the message and thank you all for you great comments.

-Marci