He stands in the door to her room, a plethora of emotions coursing through his body. Nervousness. Relief. Fear. Anxiety. Love. He is about to see the woman he loves, the woman that he loved even before he met her, and she is broken.
Broken. Broken both in the figurative and literal senses. He knows her well enough to know that she will blame herself for almost losing their child. Their son. He knows her well enough to know that the hateful words spewed by her mother will not stop repeating in her mind for a long while. As much as he barely knows her, he knows her almost better than he knows himself.
His heavy hand pushes open the relatively light door. His breath hitches in his throat at the sight that greets him. She is so pale. She is almost translucent. The presence of blood pumping through her veins and arteries is questionable. She reminds him of one of his sister's old porcelain dolls, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.
Porcelain. Breakable. His Meredith. His doll. His lover. His friend. His everything. His Meredith.
She stirs slightly as he steps further into the room, almost as if she can sense his presence even in her drug-induced slumber. Her broken beauty is still more beautiful to him than anything else in the world. A quiet groan escapes her parched lips. A groan that is filled with pain, the magnitude of which she is still unaware. He wants to be her morphine. He wants to be the one to take away her pain. He would do anything to take away her pain. He would do anything to take away even just a little, if not all, of her pain.
He finally reaches her bedside after a trek that seems to have taken ages, but in reality was no more than three strides. He takes her tiny hand in his. Her hand is cold, almost as if devoid of life. He remembers times when that perfect hand was like fire, igniting his skin with so many desires by a simple caress.
He encloses her hand in his, attempting to return warmth to her body. Attempting to restore her to a life-like state. His thumb traces circles on the center of her palm, something he learned comforted her when they docked in Italy.
"Hey Mer," he whispers in a broken voice, "I…" he starts. He really doesn't know what to say—where to begin. He is just as broken as she, but his fractures and incisions are all below the surface. "God, I have missed you," he whispers as he rests his forehead on the raised bedrail. "Sometimes… late at night… when I'm all alone…I can hear your infectious giggle filtering through the salty breeze…and when I close my eyes…I see yours…their greenness only enhanced by the expanse of water in the background…I remember all of the times that we made love…but relish the moments that I realize now were the moments in which I was falling in love with you…like our perfect day that we spent together when you were cramping…Hell…they were all perfect days…Every moment spent with you was one of perfection…I wanted to tell you…I was going to tell you…I knew…I knew our last night together…I think maybe I always knew…" he trails off as he gets lost in the memories of the endless summer nights they spent together. Talking. Making love. Falling.
A throat clearing recalls him to the present and he looks up to see his mom standing behind him. He has no idea how long she has been there and he really doesn't care. The remnant of a long tear trailing down her tired face tells him that she was there long enough.
She places her hand on Derek's hunched shoulder. "She should be waking up from the anesthesia soon. We will know more then," she says in a sympathetic voice. Sympathy for her son. Sympathy for her grandson. Sympathy for the young woman lying on the hospital bed in front of her who she now considers a daughter.
Derek simply nods his head as he brings her cold hand to his lips. It seems clammy and not Meredith, but it is Meredith. His Meredith. A warm, salty tear lands on her skin. He doesn't even realize that the tears are falling once again until he sees the evidence on her skin.
His mom is moving slowly towards the door when he speaks again. "I bet he has my hair and eyes…Mer always talked about my hair and eyes…she loves them…" he laughs wryly through the new torrent of tears that have begun to flow. "But he will have her chin. Her stubborn, perfect chin…and her nose…she teased me about my nose…said it made me look Roman and compared it to the various statues we saw throughout the city…but definitely her cute nose…and I really hope…more than anything else…he has her ability to brighten a room just with her presence…this ability…this ability makes a person feel happy for no apparent reason other than she is there…" he pauses and looks up at his mother. "I know…I know that no matter what…he will be perfect…he…and…I…perfect…" he trails off as he bites his bottom lip, a tick he picked up from Meredith, but something he does in this case to suppress the sob that threatens to escape.
Her hand jerks within his and he immediately turns his attention to her. Through blurry eyes he sees her eyes begin to flutter heavily open. A low moan of pain resonates throughout the room as her eyes finally begin to focus on her surroundings.
"Whathappened?" she asks in a voice heavy with sleep, still somewhat out of it from the sedation.
Derek immediately stands to his feet and leans over the bed, his hand running over her warm cheek. When he speaks, he stares straight into his eyes and his voice is soft in an attempt to comfort her as he delivers news that he knows will upset her. "When you fell in the hallway from the Braxton-Hicks, you tore your placenta," he says slowly.
Her eyes immediately widen and she quickly moves her free hand to her abdomen, seeking her baby bump. He immediately places his hand on top of hers. "My mom repaired the tear and both you and our son are stable…everything is fine…" he says in a comforting voice as he leans down and brushes his lips across her forehead.
A tear travels down her face as she looks up at him. She looks so scared. So vulnerable. He reaches down and brushes the tear away before leaning even closer. "It will be okay, Mer. I am here. My mom is here. We are going to take care of you. I'm going to take care of you. I love you," he tells her as he stares into her eyes.
Once the words escape his mouth he knows that he should have waited. It is too much too soon. Her eyes widen in shock, in fear, and she pulls her hand from his. Hey eyes frantically dart around the room as the panic begins to set in. She can't handle this. Not now. He reaches for her hand, but she moves it out of his reach.
"Mer.." he implores as he watches her movements become jerkier.
He feels a hand on his shoulder and knows that it is his mom. "Derek…why don't you give us a minute? I need to examine her…" his mother says in the most comforting voice she can manage.
Derek nods numbly before walking out of the room, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He walks out of the room and leans against the wall, slowly sinking to the ground. His head falls forward and rests on his knees. One step forward, three steps back. He doesn't know what to do. He wants to be there for her. He wants to love her. He needs to love her.
His peripheral vision perceives another person sliding down beside him, but he doesn't acknowledge their presence. Their presence is irrelevant. They don't matter. She is the only one that matter. Her and their son. They are the only ones that matter now. No one else. Nothing else. Just them. And without them, in this world of over six billion people, Derek Shepherd is all alone. Without Meredith Grey and their unborn son, Derek Shepherd exists in a desolate world devoid of all other things but pain and sadness. Without Meredith Grey, Derek Shepherd ceases to be human and transforms into a zombie. Without Meredith Grey, the existence of Derek Shepherd is irrelevant and he fades into the backdrop of the bustling world and doesn't even care.
Okay...sorry this took so long...but I have had finals...and I live in Oklahoma and haven't had power...the only reason I have power now is because I am at my mom's...I even have to go back to my university to take a final next Friday because a prof agreed to let me take it late because of the lack of power in my apartment and I'm taking a final the first week of Spring semester...so...I will be studying over break...but I'm also going to try to update more. Hope you liked this update...
-Marci