So, I managed to get this chapter written a little faster than the previous one. I've finally gotten somewhat over that horrid travesty of a finale. At least, enough to be able to get back to writing fic. Writing happy Mer/Der is sorta like therapy in a way… Anyway, this chapter moves forward a few weeks in time. Thanks again to everyone who's been taking the time to review, I really appreciate it. And yeah, enjoy the update!
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Jacqueline paced down the length of the pavement, her heels pounding out a steady rhythm of clicks and clacks as she moved. She paused when she reached the end of the block, tilting her head back to glance up at the sky. It was an expanse of muted gray overhead, echoing the dingy plane of cement beneath her feet. A sigh escaped her, dwindling away into the distant hum of traffic, and Jacqueline forced her gaze back down towards the ground. She could do this. She had to do this. She picked up her pace as if that would make things easier. Walked faster and faster until her heels produced an angry blur of sound. Even so, it took another four lengths around the block before she finally stalled in front of the familiar house. She pursed her lips at the sight of it, just able to make out the fuzzy glow of a television set through the large front window. Instinctively, she took a step back, turning away to dig through the contents of her large leather handbag. Fingers closing tightly around the slick compact body of her cell phone, she pulled it out and dialed the number Nancy had given her. She knew it was pointless to call. Knew well before the first ring. She'd called over and over the past three weeks, only to be sent straight to voicemail every time save one. That one time he had answered, he'd sounded gruff and distant--nothing like her son. He had barked out something about not having time for her and whatever the hell it was that she was trying to pull now. That he needed to focus on Meredith, and that really, he had nothing to say to her after how she'd treated the women he loved. And then he'd hung up. Without a goodbye--without giving her so much as a chance to explain herself. Just an abrupt end to the conversation…if it could even be called a conversation, one sided as it had been. Jacqueline blinked rapidly at the memory, pressing the phone that much harder against her ear. She was done crying, hadn't cried since that first night Derek had thrown her out. Still, the corners of her eyes prickled at the memory. It was difficult for her to decide if she was more appalled by the long hour she'd spent sobbing bitterly into a hotel pillow--Nancy in the background, alternating between berating her and trying to comfort her--or by everything that had come both before and after that moment. Either way, it left her with a sick hollow feeling as if all of her organs had somehow been removed, only to be replaced with water--icy cold and churning against the emptiness within her. She had to fix this. She had to try. She'd spent three weeks living with a devastating void that she thought was regret. It was something sucking and empty just beneath her lungs, and she didn't want to even try to imagine a lifetime of it. No. It had to be fixed.
And yet, she couldn't help but try, couldn't help but want to keep the house at a distance for a little while longer. If Derek would just answer the damn phone, she could handle this. She could catch another cab over to that hospital. It was midday, she couldn't imagine him being anywhere else. And if she could just talk to him… Just get a chance to talk… Jacqueline wasn't a woman who apologized often. The words had a way of getting stuck somewhere in her throat, or of simply refusing to even form in the first place. But to Derek, she could apologize. She'd beg if she had to in order to get him to listen. Of course, he'd have to pick up the phone in the first place for that to happen. Eventually, it simply clicked over to voicemail. The ringing in her ears was replaced by the low friendly tone of her son's voice, requesting the caller to please leave a message. It bared no resemblance to the way he'd spoken to her last--a bitter angry rush of words--and only deepened the hollow void she felt in her chest. Sighing, Jacqueline hung up, dropping the phone unceremoniously back into the depths of her bag.
She was left with nothing else to do but face the house looming in front of her, and the woman she was almost certain was somewhere within. Jacqueline craned her neck forward, trying to catch a glimpse of Meredith through the large window, and failing. All she could see was a shape that she thought was the back of the couch, and the flickering glow of a television screen. She heaved another sigh--heavy sounding and thick with frustration--forcing herself up the first step towards the door. She could do this. Another step. Just apologize… Two more steps, her hand gripped the railing. It couldn't be that hard. She cleared the final step up onto the porch. To Meredith.
She could apologize to Meredith.
But Jacqueline's feet stalled then. A good three feet of the porch still spanned the space between her outstretched arm and the doorbell. And she was frozen. A thin, high-pitched whirring sound hissed out through her teeth as her arm slapped back down against her side. She frowned at herself. She was being stupid, ridiculous, childish. Her internal thoughts built up into some sort of angry, shouting thing--urging her forward with an inaudible roar--and yet her feet stayed rooted to the ground. Her mind balked at the idea of apologizing to that girl, that-- No… Somehow, she managed to clamp down on the thought, forcing herself to replay the litany of good things Nancy had told her, the things she'd seen with her own eyes and tried to stuff away and forget.
She could do this. She could get along with Meredith Grey. She could apologize.
She could. She could. She could.
It was becoming some sort of painful mantra; twisting its way through her like barbed wire snaked in one ear and out the other. Jacqueline turned away from the door for a moment, rooting through her purse until her hand clamped down around her wallet. And then she was yanking it out and unclasping it, moving past her credit cards and her checkbook to flip through the photos collected at the back. Her children teased her about it, told her that that little touch was far too grandmotherly for her. She didn't mind. A soft smile crossed her face as she leafed her way through all of them, taking in the faces of fourteen smiling boys and girls. In age they ran the gamut from three to seventeen, and she forgot the tense unease filling her as her finger skimmed gently over each face, making her way towards the very last picture. Fourteen grandchildren. Fourteen, and there was going to be a fifteenth soon enough. There might already be one for all she knew. That was supposed to mean a call from Derek--his voice rich with excitement and pride as he told her just how many pounds and ounces her granddaughter weighed, a trip out to see the baby, another picture for her wallet. She didn't expect Meredith to want her help the way her own daughters had, but there was supposed to be a fifteenth picture.
She took the last few steps towards the door, forcing an arm out, her thumb coming down hard against the bell. There had to be a fifteenth picture.
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Meredith lay on the couch, a quiet snort escaping past her lips as she stared at the television. She'd taken to amusing herself by watching General Hospital--comparing it to life at Seattle Grace, keeping long mental tallies of all the medical inaccuracies, hoping it would somehow squelch the burning desire she felt to be back at work already. It didn't seem to be helping. As the show cut to a commercial break, her mind switched straight back to the hospital, trying to decide exactly what she'd be doing if she were at work. She felt a little too much like Cristina, laying there fantasizing about getting to scrub in on a subdural hematoma. A ruptured saccular aneurysm. Even an appendectomy. Hell, she'd take sutures in the pit right about now. Sighing wistfully, she turned back to the plate that lay propped up by her swollen stomach, snatching a bite of a greasy slice of pizza. Her whole world seemed to have been reduced to food and TV and trashy magazines. The low table in front of her was covered with snacks. Some were normal--chips, the rest of the pizza, a giant bottle of water. But some--her gaze flitted over to the chocolate bar she'd been dipping into a jar of mustard--were…not so normal. Scattered in with the snacks were the magazines with their bright glossy photos and headlines screaming gossip. A few issues of The New England Journal of Medicine lay amongst them for good measure, but, despite her desire to be back at work, Meredith couldn't seem to get her mind to focus enough to make sense of the articles. She felt sluggish and tired, finding it easier to read about celebrity baby drama than the pros and cons of surgery versus endoscopy when treating chronic pancreatitis. Wrinkling her nose at herself, Meredith let her eyelids droop shut, only to have them fly open again as the ring of the doorbell cut through the gentle hum of voices coming from the television.
Meredith reached up, moving the plate off her stomach to set it on top of a stack of magazines on the table. She swung her feet off the couch and onto the floor, slowly sitting up. Twisting around, she glowered in the direction of the front door before pushing herself to her feet with a groan. Her hands moved absently to adjust the mess of a ponytail she'd piled her hair into that morning as she made her way towards the hall. Her curiosity peaked slightly as she tried to remember if either Izzie or George got off early today, and had somehow managed to forget their keys. Or if Alex or Cristina were coming over once again on their lunch break to check on her. She rolled her eyes, deciding it couldn't be Derek. He worried too much, and--even if he'd found a way to lose his key--she figured he'd sooner climb in through a window than cause her get up off the couch. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she reached out for the doorknob with the other, unable to come up with any further possibilities for who could be standing on the other side.
Her jaw dropped when she found herself face to face with Derek's mother. Jacqueline stood on the porch, looking calm save for the nervous, jerky movements of her fingers as she fiddled with the clasp on her handbag. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Meredith, almost as if she hadn't expected her to actually answer the door. Meredith just leaned against the doorframe, blinking, her mind completely unable to string together any form of greeting. His mother was back. Jacqueline Shepherd was once again standing there looking perfect while she opened the door in yet another pair of rolled up sweatpants and a shirt she'd stolen from Derek. The fog that seemed to settle over her mind whenever she tried to get any studying done came rolling back in, leaving her feeling as if she couldn't even think. All she could do was gape--nothing more. They stared at each other in silence for what felt like an excruciatingly long moment before Jacqueline ducked her head slightly and cleared her throat.
"Hello…Meredith," she began. Her voice was tinged with an unfamiliar hesitancy that left Meredith frowning in confusion. "I, well… I--"
"Derek's at work right now," Meredith blurted out, her grip on the doorknob tightening.
Jacqueline just shook her head, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "No, I wanted to talk to you," she replied, her voice as crisp and manicured as every despite the apprehension that seemed to be woven into every word. "If that's alright…?" Jacqueline flicked at her wedding rings with her thumb, worrying them back and forth around her finger. She seemed to be waiting for some sort of reply, but Meredith remained silent, doing nothing more than quirking an eyebrow. When the lack of conversation started to twist into something stifling and awkward, Jacqueline cleared her throat. She swallowed hard as if to force away a sudden lump. "I want to…apologize to you," she managed at last.
"You want to apologize to me?" echoed Meredith, her voice skeptical.
"Yes."
Meredith nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. "I'm on bed rest," she said abruptly. "I've got to go sit back down." With no further warning, she turned away from the older woman, walking back towards the front room. However, she left the door wide open--a gaping entry into the house. After a moment of hesitation, Jacqueline forced herself across the threshold. She closed her eyes, steeling her resolve. She could do this. Closing the door behind her, she made her way over to where Meredith was sitting on the couch.
Meredith looked up uncertainly as the sharp click of Jacqueline's heels announced her arrival. She wasn't sure what she was doing, why she'd let her in, why she hadn't just slammed the door in her face, but...it was too late for that now. Reluctantly, she reached for the remote and turned off the TV. She could do this, she promised herself. For Derek…she could listen to this woman's apology. For Derek… She smiled at the thought of him. For the past three weeks, he'd been nothing short of perfect. She was miserable stuck at home, and yet…he somehow made it bearable. He would come home after putting in a good twelve hours at the hospital, and wordlessly drop off a new stack of DVDs and magazines on the couch for her to discover in the morning. He'd taken to texting her throughout the day, sending her messages so inappropriate that she'd laugh out loud, momentarily forgetting how fat and sore she felt. And the one time she'd sat there on the phone, going on and on to the nurse about how it was an emergency and she had to be put through to Dr. Shepherd despite the fact that he was in surgery, only to tell him that she was desperately craving pickles and strawberry cream cheese… He hadn't complained. Hadn't pointed out that it was slightly inconvenient to be interrupted with a request for food while in the middle of a man's brain. He'd simply laughed and said okay, and somehow managed to squeeze in a trip to the grocery store between surgeries. He'd been perfect, and it left her feeling a little dazed and guilty at times. But mostly, it just left her feeling happy. She reached up absently to brush at her bangs, only to have her thoughts interrupted by Jacqueline's soft gasp of surprise.
"He got you a ring."
"Huh? Oh, right…" Meredith pulled her hand in front of her, smiling despite herself at the sight of her engagement ring sparkling brightly in the light. "Yes," she agreed quietly. "He did."
"It's lovely," ventured Jacqueline, leaning forward slightly to inspect the diamond. Meredith quirked an eyebrow, momentarily uncertain whether the remark was meant as sarcasm or a compliment. But Jacqueline's voice didn't cut the way it had before, and--despite the confusion that drummed up in her--she decided the woman was being sincere. "Really lovely," repeated Jacqueline, her voice no more than a quiet murmur. She sat there staring as if transfixed by the ring--reality finally solidifying into something undeniable for her. The process had started the moment her own son had thrown her out for the sake of a woman he'd known for less than a year. But, faced with the sight of Meredith sitting in front of her, nine months pregnant with her son's ring on her finger and his child inside her, it became something she couldn't ignore. Derek was marrying Meredith. Her son had made his choice, his family, and…she could either accept that and try to fix things, or find herself forgotten.
Meredith just nodded, her hand drifting down to rest over her stomach. She shifted uncomfortably as Jacqueline continued to stare at the ring--seemingly lost in thought--and finally cleared her throat expectantly.
Jacqueline's head jerked up, her blue eyes as piercing as ever, but bellied by something awkward. Something almost unsteady. "Ah," she began, clasping her hands together. "Why are you on bed rest? Is everything okay?"
"Oh…yeah," said Meredith absently, nodding once more. "It's nothing. I have PIH."
Jacqueline just looked at her in polite confusion.
"High blood pressure because of the baby," she elaborated with a wave of her hand. "But it's actually been getting better since the doctor made me start resting all the time, which is hell, but…" She trailed off, suddenly frowning and shaking her head. "Never mind," she continued abruptly. "You don't have to do the thing."
"The thing?" echoed Jacqueline, puzzled.
"Yeah, the thing," repeated Meredith, rolling her eyes. "Talk, ask questions, pretend you care."
"I'm not," stammered Jacqueline, taken aback. "I was just--"
"I think the fact that we don't like each other has been pretty well established."
Jacqueline paused, impressed despite herself by the girl's bluntness. It seemed completely at odds with the meek uncertainty, the hesitancy, the deer in the headlights manner that had marked their first meeting. It was a toned down echo of that same forceful Meredith who'd stood there and told Derek he had to choose--the gasping and the tears having been replaced by a quiet sort of confidence. And it was starting to grow on her. Jacqueline was surprised to find herself smiling, giving an appreciative little nod of her head. There was no point in denying the statement after the way she'd acted on her first visit. Instead, steeling herself with another deep breath, she dove straight into the heart of the matter.
"I miss my son," she said simply. "I've missed him ever since he moved out here and," her voice grew disapproving, "decided to stop calling, but…" She paused, shaking her head. Her eyes locked with Meredith's. "I don't want to miss him forever."
Meredith shifted uncomfortably--lifting her feet up onto the table--not quite sure of how to answer. "I'm not going to stand between you and Derek," she said at last. "If that's what you're asking… What I said at the party," she bit her lip, giving a slight shrug of her shoulders, "well, we've talked since then. He's perfectly free to do whatever he likes, the whole family thing…whatever that is. I don't care."
"Oh…" The word came out as a slight gasp. The ultimatum had been lifted, and yet her son was choosing to act as if it hadn't. She pursed her lips together, trying to hide her astonishment, trying to hide the twisting feeling that grabbed at her heart. "Right." Her voice was unusually soft, and Meredith was staring at her, her green eyes wide with confusion and a sort of vague curiosity.
"So we're good then?" she asked, her hand drifting slightly towards the remote.
"No," Jacqueline blurted out, fiercely earnest. "No," she repeated, the word mutating into a tired sigh. "He won't talk to me. He won't give me a chance to apologize." She glanced down at her lap, fidgeting with her rings. Her posture was rigid and her expression as severe as ever, everything within her revolting against the idea of laying her weaknesses flat out in front of Meredith. Gritting her teeth together harshly, she cleared her throat, and forced herself to keep talking. "He's ignored all my calls but one, and he answered only to tell me that he wanted nothing to do with me after how I--" She stopped speaking abruptly, her voice again catching in her throat. Glancing away, she suddenly seemed to develop an intense interest in the cover of the nearest magazine. She could do this. She had to"After what happened." Jacqueline forced the words out at last--her eyes boring into the magazine--sounding almost robotic.
Meredith stayed silent, her gaze drifting down to her belly as her child shifted within her, dealing her a particularly heavy kick. She frowned softly, her hand moving to rub the strained wall of her stomach.
Jacqueline still appeared to be scrutinizing every last square inch of the tabletop, everything about her seeming strained, uncomfortable. She cleared her throat again, forcing herself to swallow her pride and look at Meredith. "And he's right," she said quietly as their eyes locked. "I need to, well…like I said, I'm apologizing. To you."
She fell silent, waiting for some sort of reply. And again, she found herself filling with astonishment as Meredith's expression suddenly became one of equal parts understanding and amusement. "Oh," she laughed, nodding her head. The sound was infectious and she quirked an eyebrow, her green eyes sparking. "This is your grand gesture thing. Flying out to apologize to me." She smirked and glanced back down at her stomach. "You get Derek better than I thought."
"So do you," admitted Jacqueline, once again finding herself reluctantly impressed by the young woman. The words came out much less grudgingly than she'd expected. She studied Meredith's face, hoping that she was finally getting somewhere with her. But, although she was smiling slightly, she already seemed to be folding back into herself--recoiling exquisitely from the possibility of forming any sort of connection. "He loves you," continued Jacqueline, and the quiet smile that lingered around Meredith's lips seemed to leap straight into her eyes, brightening her entire face. "You love each other." The words came slowly, almost as if she were just realizing the truth in them. "That should've been enough. It is enough, and I tried to pretend it wasn't."
Meredith frowned, reaching up to wind a strand of her hair tightly around her finger, fussing at the strands with the pad of her thumb. Again, she found herself dipping into something puzzled and uncertain; at a loss when it came to dealing with the woman's confession. She toyed with the idea of just walking away with some half-assed excuse--cutting things off before they got too intense, too personal--but that, well… That would involve getting up. She wrinkled her nose at her swollen stomach, not yet uncomfortable enough to force herself to struggle to her feet. Still, she remained silent, and Jacqueline felt the muscles spanning from the back of her neck to her shoulders tensing up in fear. It was intimidating, unnerving, and yet…entirely unintentional. Meredith simply looked at her, oblivious to the woman's sudden nerves.
"It's just…he's changed so much," Jacqueline blurted out, apprehension serving to send one of her own walls crumbling down. "And I wanted to blame it on you…" Meredith quirked an eyebrow at that, curious. Jacqueline sighed, "I don't-- I don't believe in divorce." She smiled sadly, her lips a thin little line. "I thought I'd raised Derek to feel the same way. Maybe that makes me foolish and old-fashioned. Uptight…" She trailed off, her slender shoulders giving a graceful little shrug. Her gaze drifted from Meredith down to her own clasped hands, moving to fidget with her wedding rings. The gesture seemed almost indulgent somehow, and her eyes grew distant, wistful. "My husband died over thirty years ago, and I've never taken them off," she said when she noticed Meredith watching her.
"You never wanted to remarry? Never got lonely?" asked Meredith quietly, the questions slipping out before she could stop herself.
Jacqueline glanced back up, the fierce blue of her eyes suddenly muted, growing softer, sadder. "Oh…" The word slipped out like a sigh. "I got lonely. I wanted to fall in love again, but…I had five children, and I believe…" She seemed to pull away slightly, no longer speaking to Meredith but to the deep well of her own memory. "No, I know that when you fall in love with the right person, that's it. You're ruined. Anyone after pales in comparison." Her voice grew softer still, to the point where the very sounds seemed to ache, saying, "That was Nathaniel Michael Shepherd for me, and…" She sighed, pulling herself back to the present as her eyes locked with Meredith's once more. "I thought that was Addison for Derek. I wanted to believe that he'd married the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. They used to be so happy, and I thought he was being rash…throwing that all away. That you'd seduced him." Meredith stiffened slightly, but Jacqueline held up a hand. "You're young. His intern, even. And this is all so fast. I thought you--" She pursed her lips together, shaking her head. "But, I was wrong. You're that person for him, the love of his life… I know you are. He couldn't have done what he did. Wouldn't have chosen if…" Jacqueline trailed off with a shake of her head; something deep within her changing, something tightly coiled and twisted finally starting to relax.
Meredith looked away in the silence that followed, uncomfortable. Her tongue darted nervously out over her lower lip, unsure of how to respond.
Jacqueline cleared her throat, surprised to find it was no struggle to get out the apology she'd internally revolted against. "I just want to say that I'm sorry, Meredith. I was rude to you and judged you, and…I'm sorry."
"Thank you." She spoke quietly--the words just slipping out--her voice soft and delicate. It was little more than a whisper; still unsettled by the woman in front of her despite the fact that she found herself believing what she heard. It was too much, too confusing after everything that had happened at the party. It was like trying to build a house after the foundation had already been broken beyond repair. And so she sat clamped down in silence as if in an act of self-preservation. She looked at Jacqueline, her uncertainty written plainly in her eyes.
"So," asked Jacqueline lightly, speaking just as the seconds started to grow into something long and torturous. "Are you excited about the baby?" She glanced down at Meredith's swollen stomach, which strained noticeably even against the looser fabric of Derek's shirt. "You've got to be due almost any day now, right?"
Meredith just blinked. "Excuse me?"
"The baby looks like it's already dropped," she elaborated, trying to remember if she'd been told the exact due date before.
"No, I heard what you asked," said Meredith flatly, drawing back a little. "What are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" echoed Jacqueline, her expression morphing into a puzzled frown. "I'm talking to you. You're going to be my daughter-in-law after all. I know we got off to a bad start, but I thought maybe we could be friends?"
Meredith stared at her blankly, her mouth gaping open slightly. She shook her head, feeling suddenly stifled, something panicky swelling within her. "I'm marrying Derek, yes. But we're," she gestured between them with a flick of her wrist, "we're not family. And we can't be friends. I can't… I'm," she shook her head, "I'm sorry. I just can't." She spoke rapidly, nervously, hauling herself to her feet at the same time.
Jacqueline stared at her, taken aback by the abrupt change in the young woman just as she'd started to warm up to the concept of Meredith Grey as the wife of her son. "Okay," she agreed meekly. "I just--"
Meredith shook her head, filled with a sudden desperate need for an escape. "I'm sorry, but I have to go," she continued, thinking frantically. "I have a thing… I have, um…a doctor's appointment," she decided at last. Jacqueline got to her feet as well, recognizing the words as her cue to leave.
"I won't hold you up," she said, clacking her way briskly towards the front door. "My flight's in a few hours anyway."
"Oh?" asked Meredith, relief slipping unintentionally into her voice.
"Yes," Jacqueline said. Her eyes darkened until they looked sad and uncertain, her wrinkled hand moving needlessly over her sleekly styled hair to give a nervous pat to the knot it had been twisted into; everything about her at odds with the way she'd first appeared to Meredith. "I wasn't exactly sure of my welcome," she said. And while her voice was still clipped, still proper and manicured, it descended suddenly into something pleading and desperate. "Will you tell Derek I say hello?"
Meredith started to frown--hanging silent in uncertainty.
"Please…?" begged Jacqueline, and that one word was so full of the fear of loss that Meredith found herself nodding her head immediately.
"I'll talk to him."
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Meredith wandered absently around the surgical floor of the hospital. After Jacqueline had left, she'd settled back down on the couch for a few minutes only to find she couldn't keep still. Their conversation kept replaying in her mind, kept confusing her, kept filling her with a medley of varying emotions until she felt that she was about to pull her hair out in frustration. And so she'd decided to use her own excuse, guiltily leaving the comfort of the couch to drive herself to the hospital. The busy familiarity of the place filled her with a sharp sense of relief, and she wandered about aimlessly, hoping to find one of her friends.
"Hey!" called out a familiar voice, and Meredith turned around to see Cristina emerging from a patient's room, chart in one hand and a pen in the other. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she made her way over. "Doctor's appointment?"
"No," muttered Meredith sheepishly, following her over to the nurses' station. "Avoiding Derek's mother."
Cristina quirked an eyebrow, looking up from the chart. "The wicked witch of the east?"
Meredith sighed, leaning heavily against the counter. "The one and only."
"Seriously? She flew out here again?" Meredith nodded, and Cristina's eyes darkened with concern though her voice remained teasing. "Want me to go beat her up for you?"
"No," said Meredith dismissively, rolling her eyes. "I don't need you to beat her up for me." She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip as her expression grew uncertain. "She apologized. Said she wants us to be friends, which is just…" She trailed off, once again balking internally at the idea.
"Wait. She completely trashes you, and then decides she wants to be friends?" Cristina's voice was sharply skeptical and dripping with sarcasm. "How touching."
"Yeah…" Meredith frowned, propping her chin up with a fist. "She said she misjudged me, and that she sees that Derek and I are in looove…" She let the last word drag out, over-exaggerating the vowel only to conclude with a snort. She shrugged her shoulders, adding, "I think she just wants to be sure she gets to play grandma. Dress my baby up in some hideous couture onesie. Whatever… She's apologized. We can coexist peacefully on rare occasions."
"Oh yeah?" interjected Cristina, her eyes sparking with amusement. "Like what?"
Meredith chewed on her lip, growing thoughtful. "Like the wedding, I suppose," she decided at last.
Cristina just snorted. "And Christmas? Thanksgiving? Umm, Easter?" She listed them off on her fingers, grinning wickedly. "Every year?"
"Oh I don't do holidays," snapped Meredith. She glared at her friend, suddenly reaching over and snatching the chart from her grasp. "Cardiomyopathy," she announced as she scanned the first page. "This I can do." Cristina frowned, holding out a hand for her chart. Meredith just backed away from the nurses' station, laughing as she propped the chart up on her stomach instead and continued reading.
"You really have gotten huge," observed Cristina. "Like an SUV."
Meredith frowned and looked up from the chart. "More like a beached whale," she muttered.
"Whatever. Give me back my chart."
"No," said Meredith flatly. "You just compared me to a car. I get to read the chart."
"That's not a bad thing," Cristina rationalized. "Guys like cars just as much as sex." Meredith let out a laugh, her eyes bright as she flicked to the next page.
"Interesting," she mused, backing away a few more steps.
"Are you actually trying to steal my patient?" asked Cristina incredulously, pushing away from the nurses' station to walk over to her.
"Cristina, I'm fifty-two years pregnant here, and on bed rest. How could I possibly steal your patient?"
"Right, bed rest," said Cristina slowly, smirking. "Where's your bed?"
"That's just what I want to know," interrupted a voice from behind them, causing both women to whirl around, their expressions instantly guilty as they turned to face their boss.
"Oh, I'm not here," stammered Meredith, quickly shoving the chart back into Cristina's hands.
"Then how come I'm looking right at you?" demanded Bailey, hands moving to her hips.
Meredith blinked, her cheeks flushing. "Umm…that's a good question," she stalled. "A very good question with an answer. And the answer is that I'm just-- I'm…" She shook her head, glancing helplessly at Cristina. "I need to…?"
"She needs to see Derek," Cristina blurted out.
"Yes, Derek!" agreed Meredith, latching onto the idea. "I need to, ah… Dr. Shepherd," she amended as Bailey simply scowled up at her. "I need to see Dr. Shepherd."
"Because that's his baby," observed Cristina helpfully, grinning as she tilted her head towards Meredith's stomach.
"I'm not a fool, Yang. I know that's his baby. Even if I didn't know, that wouldn't last long. The man can't seem to talk about anything else."
Meredith grinned despite herself. "I need to see Derek," she repeated quietly, her quick excuse morphing into a genuine desire.
"You need to be at home resting," countered Bailey. "That's what you need."
"Is he in surgery?" Meredith pressed, her voice hopeful. Bailey's expression darkened into a scowl, and her two interns shuffled backwards a few steps. "I could sit in the gallery," continued Meredith hastily. "With my feet up." She grinned guiltily, her eyes wide and pleading.
"He's in surgery," said Bailey dryly, giving a shake of her head.
"OR three," Cristina volunteered. "I can take her there. Make sure she doesn't give birth in an elevator."
"You can go take care of your patients," countered Bailey, her voice rising dangerously. "Before I take them all away and put you on scut."
"I… Or I can do that," stammered Cristina guiltily. She nodded her head, shooting Meredith an apologetic look. "Right away, um, Mer--"
"You're going," interrupted Bailey.
"I'm going," came the quick scurried reply as she turned and disappeared down the hall.
Meredith swallowed the lump in her throat, growing apprehensive as her boss's attention returned to her. "I could just sit in the gallery," she tried again, desperate to avoid returning to the loneliness and boredom of her house, to the racing thoughts about Derek's mother. "I could learn a lot by observing."
"You could also be at home resting. You're about to have a baby."
"I'm still a surgeon," Meredith blurted out. The words came rushing past her lips fierce and determined, yet every syllable was a question.
Bailey hesitated, halfway to just sending her intern home. But there was something desperate lurking beneath the pale green of Meredith's eyes. Something begging for reassurance. "Fine," she said at last. "Go, but you sit down and you stay there."
Meredith's face blossomed into a smile, relief rushing forward to replace the worry in her eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Bailey," she said.
Bailey frowned but nodded her head. "And you're feet had better be up in a damn chair the whole time," she shouted after Meredith as her intern made her way towards the ORs.
The gallery was completely empty for a change, and Meredith found a seat in the front row. She rolled her eyes at herself, but pulled another chair around, propping her feet up on it. Her gaze swung straight to Derek. A smile played across her lips as she watched him work; the sight of him at the head of the table always doing something to thrill her. As she stared, her mind drifted back to months ago…replaying the memory of waiting in the very same gallery, trying to work up the nerve to tell him that she was pregnant, only to be scared off by his wife. And now… She glanced down at the ring on her hand, giving a slight shake of her head in disbelief. As her attention drifted back to the OR floor, Meredith found Derek glancing up to see her sitting there, his eyes instantly filling with concern. She just shook her head, smiling reassuringly, but the worry scrawled plainly across what little of his face was visible beneath the mask hardly lessened at all.
He glanced up at her continually throughout the remainder of the surgery, and, as soon as he could, stepped back and told a resident to close. With a final glance up at Meredith--his eyes still deep wells of concern--he motioned for her to stay where she was. She rolled her eyes, but gave a slight nod of her head as he strode away to scrub out.
Derek seemed to make it up to the gallery in record time, his hands still slightly damp as he slumped down into a chair himself, leaning over to kiss her.
"Mer, what are you doing here?" he asked, puzzled and worried. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I feel fine. Well…" she wrinkled her nose, "enormous, but fine. I just needed an escape." She flashed him yet another reassuring smile, but he was still watching her intently, scooting closer to her. His hand brushed over her stomach, his fingers locking with hers.
"You're sure? Because this is definitely not laying down in bed…" He frowned, shaking his head. "Did you drive here? You could've called me, you know. I--"
"Derek!" Meredith interrupted, her voice a peal of laughter. "I'm sitting down. Resting, even. I've got my feet up. It's all very relaxed." She smiled brightly up at him as she gestured towards the chairs. Her eyes were warm and mischievous, and Derek found he was grinning despite himself.
"I can see that," he agreed.
"Yes, and…" she leaned closer to him, dropping her voice to a heavy whisper. "When I go home again, I'll take a very long nap." She let one eyelid slide into a slow wink, adding, "Just for you."
Derek laughed aloud, shifting to put his arm around her. "Just for me?" he echoed.
"Yeah…" Her voice dwindled away into a sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a yawn, and she tilted her head down to rest against his shoulder. "Do you have to run off to another surgery right away?" she murmured, the question barely above a whisper.
He leaned forward, kissing the top of her head. "Nope."
"Good," Meredith sighed, letting her eyes close. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Derek watching her fondly as she rested against him. One hand played absently with the messy strands of her hair while the other stayed in place above her stomach. Without warning, she jolted back up, catching him off guard as she turned to look at him. "I saw your mother today," she stated.
Derek blanched. "What…?" he croaked, his voice hoarse with disbelief. "You're joking, right?"
Meredith just shook her head, her lips pursed together.
"She…what? She went to the house?" The blue of his eyes turned into something dark and smoldering, his words tinged with anger. "Is that why you came here? To escape?"
"I, well…" stammered Meredith, hesitant. "Not exactly."
He scowled, shaking his head. "What did she say to you?" he pressed.
Meredith sighed and laid her hand gently over his. "She said that she's tried to apologize to you several times, but that you wouldn't listen. So," she shrugged, "she figured the time was now for drastic action."
"And so she flew out again," stated Derek. He was watching Meredith intently, surprised to find no echo of that same crumbling unsteadiness that had filled her that last time she'd been left alone with his mother. She seemed…fine. Completely normal. Almost amused by his reaction.
"Flew out for the day," Meredith agreed, and her voice was still light, still untroubled. "I think she's already on her way back. Said she didn't want to intrude."
Derek just snorted. "How considerate of her."
"Yeah…" smirked Meredith, rolling her eyes. She smiled at him, but Derek was already back to frowning again, the look in his eyes distant and troubled. "Derek," she continued, her voice growing calm and serious. "She apologized to me."
He lifted an eyebrow, repeating, "She apologized…"
"She did," agreed Meredith quietly. She shifted in her seat so that she was closer to him, leaning forward to place her palm flat against the rough stubble of his cheek. He tilted his head questioningly, his lips brushing gently against her skin. "You can stop hating her for me," she continued, her fingertips tracing patterns over his cheekbone.
"I--" began Derek, his voice muffled by her palm but still clearly defensive. Meredith just frowned, sliding her hand down his face so that she could press a finger to his lips.
"Ignoring all her calls?" she questioned. "Not exactly what I thought we'd agreed on." Derek's frown only intensified, his eyes deepening close to black. "Listen," Meredith insisted, still not giving him a chance to speak. She shook her head, trying to piece the jumbled mess of thoughts she had concerning Derek's mother into something coherent. "I just--" She sighed. "Don't hate her for me. I can't imagine if two days of bad decisions meant I never got to see our baby." Her gaze dropped from Derek's eyes down to her stomach, her free hand splayed flat over the swollen bump. "If I had to live the rest of my life knowing that she was growing up somewhere without me. Never wanting to see me. Hating me," she added, her voice trembling slightly.
"Mer," he interjected, but she shook her head fiercely.
"I can't imagine that, Derek. She's not even born yet, and already…I can't even imagine it." Meredith bit her lip, her hand falling away from his face to twine her fingers tightly with his. The anger in his eyes had faded away. He was staring at her as if caught somewhere halfway between wonder and disbelief. As if, despite the way that she was clinging to him, he couldn't quite believe that she was truly his.
"Mer…" he repeated, and it was a low hushed sound, full of awe.
"Families do stupid things all the time, right?" Meredith continued, and her voice was momentarily light, teasing. In the next breath, it grew low--her words ardent and aching. "But you have a mother who wants to see you, so don't…" She looked up at Derek, her eyes shinning. "If you can just--" And she trailed off again, biting down on her lip as she stared at him.
"Okay," Derek said, his voice rushing forward to fill the silence. He leaned down until their foreheads touched, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. "Okay…" The word was caught somewhere between them, the sound was low and humming as he stroked her skin with the pad of his thumb. They stared straight into each other, holding tight until the fierce light mirrored in their eyes started to fade away. He straightened up, tossing a careless smile in her direction, adding, "You almost sound like you like her."
"No," snorted Meredith, reflexively rolling her eyes at the thought before suddenly clapping a hand over her mouth, eyes widening. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head as Derek's grin only widened. She ducked her head, closing her eyes as she swallowed the urge to just dissolve into giggles. When she straightened up, she'd grown calm again, serious. She reached out for his hand again, speaking quietly. "I want to like her for you, but after what…" Meredith trailed off and shook her head, her eyes clouding over. "I just-- I can't promise you that I'll ever really like her or want to be around her." She looked up at him, and there was something in her voice that was pleading, wanting him to understand her.
Derek just nodded, absently tracing the lines in her palm. "I'm not asking you to," he said, his voice growing as serious as hers.
"I know…" Meredith paused, swinging back towards something lighter as she added, "But, I am willing to try tolerating her." Derek's face split into a grin, the blue of his eyes suddenly sparking with amusement as he watched her grimace and shake her head. "That's probably the wrong word," she mused. "I'm, ah… I'm willing to get to try to know your mother." She paused again, adding, "In small doses. Very small doses."
"Small doses?" echoed Derek, still grinning at her.
"I don't mix well with families," she said, defensive.
Derek just laughed, pulling her closer to him so that his voice was a low teasing hum against her ear. "How about once every other year?"
Meredith giggled, a weight seeming to fall off her shoulders and leave her feeling light and dizzy and ridiculously happy. She smirked, "I knew there was a reason I agreed to marry you after all."
-----
And yeah, there's finally a bit of resolution with Derek's family. It's never going to be perfect because I don't think Meredith is someone who trusts other people easily, and Jacqueline's done a hell of a lot to completely destroy her chance at being let in. But…Mer doesn't want to do anything to create this big wall in Derek's life, and separate his past life with the family he grew up with from the one he has now with her. She's convinced that it'll eventually just lead to bad things between them, and maybe she's right… So, she's being pretty forgiving for his sake, and because Jacqueline is sorry. In her way, she is. Heh…I know a lot of people have said they hate her character, but hopefully she's somewhat less of a villain after this chapter. I'm not sure, it was hard to write from her perspective. She was very set in her ways and convinced what she thought was right, and that led to her being very hateful to Mer, but…this is her slowly coming around, and realizing she was in the wrong. Derek actually going ahead and cutting her out of his life like that did a lot to convince her that Mer/Der really are in love, and it's not the cheap thing she thought it was. And, a lot of this is fueled by her rather desperate desire to not be cut entirely out of her son's life, to not miss out on the life of his child, but…she starts to come around to Mer as well. She didn't expect to, but Meredith's finally less stressed out, she's no longer doubting her own relationship, she feels better…she's just a lot more confident in that respect than she was when Jacqueline first showed up. So, she holds her own a bit more. And, hopefully this chapter has them reaching some sort of understanding. It's never going to be perfect between them, it's never going to be what it could've been had Jacqueline managed to be less hateful and judgmental in the beginning, but there no longer has to be this giant wall between the two of them at all times. So yeah, rambling a bit here I suppose, so I'll bring it to a close. Pretty much all the loose ends are wrapped up by now (I hope!), but Mer still has to have her baby, of course. And that's about it for now. Thanks so much for reading, and hopefully I'll have another chapter up fairly soon.