Derek watches as Meredith opens her mouth and takes a huge bite of her bacon cheeseburger. He can't help but chuckle.

Meredith (with a full mouth): Wha?

Derek: I'm just amazed at how such a tiny person like you can eat so much.

Meredith arches her eyebrow at him before smirking.

Meredith: You would be surprised just how much a small person like me can handle.

They both burst out into laughter, a sound that he is relieved to hear escaping from her. His eyes keep locking on the white gauze on her wrists that invades his sight each time she brings the burger to her mouth. He just doesn't understand how someone could hurt her so much that she would do this to herself. He doesn't fully understand why she would do this. He doesn't understand but he wants to.

He knows a little about it because one of his older sisters is a psychiatrist and she is always talking about random cases, never going into too much detail of course.

He watches as she reaches over and grabs a fry off of his plate. She smiles at him and he feels his heart melt a little more. He doesn't want to ruin their good time, but maybe this talk will be better if it is casual. Maybe she will feel more comfortable. The last thing that he wants is for her to feel uncomfortable. So, he clears his throat before he begins to speak. She looks up at him and their eyes lock.

She knows what is about to happen. She feels scared. Frightened even. She is about to reveal more about herself than she has ever revealed to anyone. She is about to become the most vulnerable she has ever been, even more so than when her virginity was taken from her. He is about to learn about her weaknesses. He is about to learn the bad. His voice cuts through her thoughts.

Derek (watching her intently): So, you said you've been cutting for about six years?

Meredith stops her movements with fry in midair. She looks at him and makes a decision. There is no turning back. This is it. She is jumping off of the high dive and she really hopes that the pool is full of water.

Meredith: Yeah.

Derek: Why did you start?

Meredith looks down when she speaks, afraid to meet his eyes in case they are judging her.

Meredith: I was in puberty. I had no mom to talk to me about boys, I didn't have anyone to show me how to use a tampon, I had no one to explain to me why my body was changing. I had no one. I had no one and it just became too much. The pain. The emotional pain became too much.

Derek can see the pain etched across her features as she recalls the past.

Derek: What about your father?

Meredith sighs as she leans back.

Meredith: He really loved my mom. He blamed himself for her death, so he withdrew from everyone for a very long time. He delved himself into his work. He lost himself when he lost my mom. I blamed myself for her death as well, so I didn't push him.

Derek: Why did you blame yourself?

Derek figures it is better to ask her questions and just let her talk. He figures these are things that she has been holding in for so long, she really just needs to let them out. He notices that she is starting to tear up.

Meredith: I was there. I was in the next room. I was in the next room while she was brutally raped and murdered and I slept. I slept when I should have saved her. I should have helped her. Maybe…if I hadn't been asleep…maybe I could have…maybe she would be…maybe…

Meredith breaks down into sobs that wrack her frame and Derek is immediately by her side and enveloping her in his arms. She clings to his shirt as if she is clinging for dear life. He runs his hand up and down her back as he speaks calming words softly into her ear.

Derek: Shh…it's okay, Mer…I'm here…let it out…just let it all out…I'm here…I've got you…I've got you and I'm not letting go…

He holds her in his arms for endless moments that drag on as he watches her cry out so many years of restrained pain. With her final sob also escapes a sigh of relief and she looks up at him.

Meredith (hiccupping): I'm sorry.

Derek reaches down and wipes away the remainder of her tears. He cups her cheek in the palm of his hand and she leans into his comforting touch.

Derek: Look at me.

Meredith looks into his eyes and notices for the first time that they are glossed over with unshed tears.

Derek: You do not say your sorry for that. I should be thanking you. So, thank you. Thank you for letting me in. Thank you for letting me be there.

Meredith just nods before she leans in and hugs Derek. It is a hug that he can tell she needs as she hugs him tightly. She finally releases him and leans back.

Meredith: Can we move to the couch? This chair is making my ass fall asleep.

Derek chuckles and stands up, reaching out for her hand as he does so. She stares at his hand for a moment before placing hers in his.

They reach the couch and Meredith plops down on the end opposite of Derek. She leans back against the arm of the couch so that she is facing him and her feet are planted in the middle of the couch.

Derek: So…

Meredith: So….

Derek: Tell me about the first time.

Meredith sighs and closes her eyes, the images from that day playing on the back of her eyelids lack a movie being projected onto the screen.

Meredith had a bad day. No. Meredith had had a bad four years. Everything had continued to go downhill ever since the morning when she found her mother's cold, dead body. But today. Today she wanted to fall. Today she wanted to start falling and never stop. The pain. The pain was just so much. She couldn't sleep at night without the images of her mother's dead body. Sometimes her mother's dead body opened its eyes and asked her why she didn't save her. That is what had happened today.

Meredith was in her math class. She hated math class. The teacher was a dumbass who loved to pick on her. She hadn't slept well the night before. She hadn't slept well for four years now. She doesn't know how it happened, but somehow she had fallen asleep. She had fallen asleep and had had a nightmare. A nightmare in which she had to be shaken awake from because she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Everyone looked at her. Everyone stared at her. They looked at her like she was a complete freak.

She couldn't take it anymore. It hurt too much. It hurt too much to keep it all in. It hurt so damn much and she couldn't do anything about it. She had fled from school and taken the bus home, not being able to stand the stares any longer. Once home she had gone into the bathroom. She didn't know when the idea first occurred to her. But now she knew. No. She hoped. She hoped that the physical pain would dampen the intensity of the emotional pain. She hoped that being able to see the pain, being able to have control over the pain, being able to stop the pain, would help. She needed it to stop hurting so bad. It hurt so much that she was starting to grow numb from the constant bombardment of pain.

Numbness. A numbness that made her feel cold and dead, like her mother. Her mother who was probably rotting under the ground now. Rotting because her inadequate daughter was incapable of saving her.

She needed a release. She needed a momentary release. A chance to breathe. A chance to escape. She needed a chance to finally feel control again. Her body was changing without her permission. Her emotional pain was never fleeing and she needed to wield some control.

She walked into her father's bathroom. He wasn't home. He was never home. She reached into his medicine cabinet and grabbed one of his straight razors. He was an old fashioned man so he still liked to use them. He would never miss it. He never noticed anything anymore. Especially her.

She then walked back into her own bathroom and sat down on the toilet, something that became a tradition with her cutting. She feel the cold steel in her hands. A steel that was going to give her relief, a steel that was going to give her gratification, a steel that was going to give her release.

She gripped the razor blade firmly in her hands. She ran it over her skin, softly at first, not hard enough to make a cut, almost as if she was testing the waters. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Deep down she knew that there was no turning back after this. Once it was done, it was done. She weighed her options and decided that this was the only one. She needed this. She needed this now.

She moves the razor blade across her skin once again, this time pressing down hard and slicing the skin. She winced in pain for a moment before her new drug began to take affect. She looked down and watched the skin open, almost as if each side was repelled against the other. That is when the blood appeared. The sweet blood. Bright red blood. Bright red blood that let her know that she was alive. Bright red blood that returned her from the state of emotional numbness to physical pain.

She watched each drop of blood fall from her wrist to the floor as her eyelids began to grow heavier. She felt…high. She felt like something had been released. Something that had been pushing from the inside out. Something that had been bottled up with increasing internal pressure. She felt…better.

Meredith: So, that's how it started.

Derek: How long did that feeling last?

Meredith shrugs as she looks at him. She leans further back and pushes her feet forward slightly. They brush against Derek's legs and she quickly pulls them back up. Derek chuckles before reaching out and grabbing her feet and placing them in his lap.

Meredith: Maybe a day or two.

Derek: Then what did you do?

Derek begins to massage her feet. He wants her to feel relaxed. He wants her to feel comfortable.

Meredith: I would let it build up again. I didn't immediately resort to cutting. In fact, there was probably two or three months before the next cut. But after that, after that they became more frequent.

Derek: Did it help?

Meredith sighs.

Meredith: It helped in the moment. It's like giving someone a pill that only lasts for about an hour a day when their pain is twenty-four hours a day.

Derek: Why didn't you stop?

Meredith: I couldn't. I tried. I tried but I couldn't. I just….I wasn't…I'm not…strong enough.

Derek: Do you want to stop?

Meredith's eyes tear up once again as she looks at him.

Meredith: I don't know how.

Derek stops rubbing her feet and stares at her. He looks at her intently. He knows that she needs to ask. She needs to ask for help in order for this to work. He knows that. He knows that she needs to want help enough to ask for it.

Meredith (in a strangled voice): Will you help me?

So..I hope that you all better understand Meredith and know that it was extremely difficult for her to ask Derek for help. I hope that it is also clear that I am NOT advocating cutting in any way, but am showing the destructiveness of it. I also wanted to let you all know how much I appreciate your support. It really has meant a lot to me and has encouraged me to keep writing when I questioned whether or not I would. So, I want to thank you all. I hope you enjoyed the update and know that I update every chance I get. It may be a week before I am able to update again because of school, but I will try.

-Marci