Meredith fidgets with the stark white gauze that now surrounds her wrist, covering a wound that she knows is there. Derek is being so great. For a moment she was scared. She was afraid that he would look at her different. That he would show her sympathy or that he would think her crazy. She didn't want those things. The only thing that she wants is to not be alone. To not be alone in this struggle.

Meredith looks down at Derek from her perch on the toilet as he cleans up her red blood from the white floor. He stills his movement when he feels her eyes on him and looks up at her. He smiles an encouraging smile at her before crawling towards her on his knees. He places his hands on her knees. She attempts to smile at him, but her smile is broken, like everything else in her life. Maybe this man before her will be the one to put her back together. To finally put her back together. She has been broken for so long. She has been empty for so long. She has been alone for so long.

Derek reaches up and brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, allowing his thumb to caress her cheek lightly as he brings it to rest under her chin, effectively forcing her to look at him.

Derek: We will get through this. Okay?

Meredith bites down on her lip and stares at him from under her lashes. She grips her left wrist in her right hand.

Derek: Mer, I'm here, okay?

Meredith just nods, unable to find her voice at the moment. Will he understand? Will he understand the motivation behind each cut? Will he understand her inability to stop? Will he understand?

Meredith reverts her gaze to the white gauze as Derek gently squeezes her knee before returning to his task of cleaning up her blood. Her stare is intent as she watches. As she waits. She waits for the white gauze to become tainted by her red blood. Cutting isn't the answer. She knows that. It isn't the solution to her plethora of problems. It is a coping mechanism. It is something that allows her to deal with a pain. A pain that is physical, a pain that she can see, a pain that she can fix.

She has tried to stop numerous times. She has tried to stop traveling down the path of self-destruction she is currently on. She has tried but she has failed. She knows now that she can't do it alone. She can't do it without having someone to talk to, without having someone to call when the urge hits her.

She knows that if cutting was the solution to the problem, her problems would have been solved long ago. She wouldn't still be cutting six years after that first fateful cut. She isn't exactly sure when the mechanism that was supposed to allow her take control of her life took control over her.

Her stomach growls loudly and she quickly places her hand on her stomach. She hears Derek chuckles as he stands to his feet, the reminder of her last cut removed from the bathroom floor. Derek is smiling at her. He isn't treating her as if she is diseased. He is treating her, well, he is treating her like a normal person. Normal. She barely remembers what normal is like. Her last memory of normal is watching a movie with her mother and painting her nails as they discussed the many great qualities of George Clooney. That was also the last night that she saw her mother alive.

Derek's voice cuts through her thoughts. Just his voice causes her comfort.

Derek: Hungry?

Meredith looks up into his eyes. He isn't judging her. He isn't treating her like a wounded animal. There is this look in his eyes, a look that she can't quit place. A look that warms her up just a little. She can also see the concern and the worry that is currently causing his forehead to wrinkle as he stares at her. He is trying to hide his concern. He doesn't want her to feel helpless. He doesn't want to make her feel weak.

Meredith attempts to smile, but this time the smile is a little less broken.

Meredith: Starving.

Derek reaches out his hand to her. At first she reaches out with her left hand, but yanks it back as the white gauze invades her peripheral vision. Derek sighs as he bends down so that he is eye level with Meredith.

Derek: Meredith?

Meredith looks at him and he can see the vulnerability in her eyes. He reaches out for her wrist. She jerks away yet again.

Derek: I'm not going to hurt you, Mer. I would never hurt you.

Meredith feels the tears building in her eyes as she stretches out her arm. Derek gently runs his fingers over the bandage before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on the gauze. He looks back up at her and she can see the tears in his eyes.

Derek: I want to be there for you, Mer. I want you to know that you can come to me. Will you let me be there for you?

Meredith looks at him for a moment. She wants to let him be there. She does. She really does. He could save her. He could save her from herself. He could save her from the razor blade that has become her drug of choice. He could save her, but will she let him?

Okay...I want to make something clear...i am in no way advocating cutting...if anything I am trying to show how it isn't the solution. This is a very personal issue for me as it was something that I suffered from. I was recently banned from a message board because I refused to edit the story and I was upset that they wanted to move the story into a dark and twisted section. I stand by my writing. This is very personal issue, like I said, and I am more than willing to discuss this issue with anyone who has any questions. Sorry to have this little...whatever...but I was rather upset yesterday because of everything. Sorry this update is so short, but I really needed to say this. Hope you all have a great weekend.

-Marci