Wow, it's exhausting to write someone in labor. Very exhausting. Obviously less exhausting and painful than the real labor thing, but still, this was a surprisingly draining chapter to write. First off, huge thanks to carsonfiles for helping me with the actual baby-having details, and secondly, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad people are excited for Mer's baby! So yeah, on to the story.

-----

Meredith lay in bed, drifting somewhere between asleep and awake. The world was just this hazy blur that existed on the other side of her closed eyelids. She shifted slightly, her hand curling into a fist beneath her chin. After what had felt like an eternity, she had made it to three centimeters. When her excitement over that fact had dulled and turned weary, she'd finally given into Derek's urgings. To sleep. Or really, to try to sleep. It was impossible to get comfortable. Every inch of her body was continually hurting in new and different ways. And, just when her eyelids would start to grow heavy on their own, start to droop close to closed, a contraction would wind its way through her. The sharp, tight, biting burst of pain would have her eyes flying wide open again. Wide open and glaring at Derek. But, every time that had happened, he would just murmur quietly to her. Rub her back. Tell her to breathe. His words were like a drug, lulling her away to somewhere softer.

And eventually, she'd found a rhythm that kept her somewhere between sleeping and waking. She no longer jolted wide awake with each contraction. She just stirred, and moaned, and breathed, and finally…resettled. But she never fell all the way asleep, either. It wasn't deep and healing, it was shallow and fitful. Strange thoughts that might be dreams kept coming and going at will, leaving her disoriented. She sunk further and further away from the world around her until she wasn't sure of what went on outside her mind. She wasn't sure if Derek was still murmuring softly to her. Wasn't sure if those were his fingers entwined in her hair or her own. Wasn't sure how long she'd been laying there.

Until something thumped, loud and jarring.

Meredith jerked slightly, her eyelids fluttering. "What?" she mumbled, but the word was more of a garbled mess of sound than anything approaching speech.

"Sorry, Mer. We didn't mean to wake you."

An apologetic voice drifted through her mind. She groaned.

"Yeah, we'll come back later."

And another. Apologetic… Anxious, maybe. She exhaled loudly, blinking against the sudden brightness.

"What?" she repeated, managing more of an actual word that time.

"We just wanted to see how you were holding up."

"Mmrrff…" She groaned, feeling very much as if her brain and her body had been sent to separate rooms. Or separate states. Separate continents, maybe. That felt more like it, a giant gaping ocean separating the two. The result was something sluggish, like she was peering through a thick fog just to see who was standing at the door. Two figures swam blurrily before her. Or maybe one. She wasn't sure… "Derek?" she mumbled.

There was a pause, which was …odd. And then, "Uh, no. It's Alex, Mer."

"And George," piped up the other voice. George's voice, apparently.

"Right…" Meredith muttered, rubbing her knuckles hard against her closed eyes. She blinked once, twice. Forced the groggy film that coated her thoughts to peel back and fall away. Slowly, the two figures swam into focus. George and Alex. The voices were right. She frowned at herself. Of course they were right. Her brain was apparently still operating from somewhere on another continent. "Hi," she said faintly, motioning them in with a tilt of her head. She glanced around her. Something was different. Something was… "Where's Derek?"

Alex shrugged, and flopped down on her couch. George just shook his head, still lingering by the doorway.

Meredith scooted backwards slowly, easing herself up until she was sitting. Absently, she touched a hand to her hair. It had turned into a disheveled mess, only half of it still caught up in a ponytail. And Derek wasn't there. He was… "I don't know where he went," she continued. Her voice came out thin and worried, and she looked around as she spoke, still trying to get her bearings.

"Well, you were sleeping," said Alex. "He probably just went to get coffee, or take a piss." He sounded nonchalant, calm, completely untroubled.

Meredith nodded slowly. "Yeah…" Calm was good. Calm was… She gave a shake of her head, trying to clear away the last of the weird, tired film that seemed to lay over everything. It was like looking through a pair of glasses when the prescription was too strong--everything hurt, everything blurred. "I have a bathroom though," she said quietly, suddenly focusing on the small room adjoining hers. The door hung ajar. The light was out. He wasn't there.

"I'm sure he'll be right back," said George gently. She nodded again, slower. Her hand fluttered down to her stomach, and she slung a leg over the edge of the bed.

"Yeah. It's not like the guy could hide anywhere today, even if he wanted to."

She glanced over her shoulder, staring at Alex. She blinked again, still feeling oddly disjointed. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "It's a madhouse out there; everyone's talking about the Grey/Shepherd spawn. You'd think some celebrity had showed up to have a baby." Meredith frowned, and swung her other leg over the edge of the bed. "Oh, and if you can pop the kid out some time between four o'clock and five, that'd be great," continued Alex. She looked up, puzzled, and he grinned at her. "I'll even split the pool with you. Fifty-fifty."

"The pool?" echoed Meredith. George shuffled uncomfortably, looking down at his feet. Alex just offered her another unabashed grin, and wiggled his eyebrows. She shook her head, incredulous. "You have a pool going for when I'm giving birth?" George started to stammer out an apology, and Alex had enough sense to look slightly sheepish, but Meredith only shrugged. "Relax. I don't really care," she said, inching carefully towards the edge of the bed, a hand on her stomach. "I want half the winnings no matter what, but…I don't care." She quirked a grin in their direction. "Go ahead. Make your money off my uterus. Just don't tell Derek. He'd probably kill you both." Her words sent her smile faltering. He'd have to be here to kill them. A wistful sigh escaped her, George and Alex's voices blurring together into something indistinct, unimportant… "Shouldn't he be back by now?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

"Maybe he's," began George as she Meredith's toes finally touched the ground, and she pushed herself to her feet. "Uh, do you need help, or…?"

Meredith shook her head. "No, I need to…" She took a cautious step, feeling oddly breakable. "I need to find--" Her words were cut short by what felt like a disgusting pop somewhere inside of her. She sucked in a breath, uncertain, and suddenly her legs were wet. "Ugh…" she groaned. Her thighs felt slick, and something was dripping steadily down her legs. She tried to look down, only to have her view blocked by her belly.

"Mer?"

She glanced back up to find Alex and George staring at her. "I think my water broke," she said, feeling suddenly helpless. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she took one cautious uncomfortable step forward. And another. And then she was breathing in sharply, her voice twisting into a strange, strangled, crying thing. She reached out blindly, feeling like she was about to fall. Her hand latched onto the bar at the end of her bed, and she clutched at it. Pain rippled around her stomach in a tight, torturous wave that seemed to rob her of even the ability to think. All she could do was gasp and gasp and gasp, until she wasn't so much breathing as she was panting in misery. This was… Pain. That was the only concrete thought she could manage. Pain that seemed to stretch on far too long. When it finally faded, it left her leaning heavily against the bed, chest heaving. Alex and George were speaking, but the words just blurred and floated by as she clutched at the railing. Tried to recover. Tried to breath again. Tried to…

"Meredith?" asked Alex loudly, more insistent. She looked up, forcing herself to focus. He'd got off the couch, and stood at her elbow. "Do you want to sit down?" She just shook her head. "Okay…" He frowned at her, his eyes dark and skeptical. "Do you need anything?"

Did she need anything? Did she… "Derek," she whimpered, still dazed by the strength of the contraction.

"You want Shepherd?"

Meredith didn't answer, busy looking out the open door at her tiny rectangular view of the hospital. He wasn't there. Something sick and panicky seemed to have been born out of the pain, and was slowly working its way through her. She let go of her hold on the bed, and started cautiously towards the doorway. Each step seemed painful, slow and tortured. Her thighs still felt wet, and her mind felt… Scattered.

"Where are you going?" asked George, his voice seeped with unease.

She stopped, and glared at him. Braced herself with one hand against her lower back. "To find Derek," she snapped. Their protests were immediate, but she tuned them out. She took a few more steps towards the door, only to come to a sudden halt as she felt the building pain of another contraction. It was no more than a few minutes behind the previous one, sending her reeling again just moments after recovering. She let out a shuddering gasp, one hand clawing at her stomach as she started to fall back into something dark, something pained and jagged that refused to let her move. Arms grabbed at her just as her legs started to shake, and she stumbled forward, collapsing against a body that felt hard and masculine.

When she opened her eyes again, Alex's face swam in front of her. He was holding her tightly, his hands gripping her elbows. "They're getting stronger," she said weakly, her chest still rising and falling visibly with each breath.

Alex nodded. "I can see that."

"Yeah," Meredith moaned. She shook her head, pulling her thoughts back together. "Derek," she blurted out. He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to be holding her up. He was… The last echoes of pain died away, and all that was left in its place was something hard and angry. "Where is he?" she demanded. Her voice was more of a snarl than anything else, each word thick with frustration.

Alex and George exchanged blank looks, and she shook her head, quickly escalating from irritated to livid.

"He needs to be here," she insisted, just shy of shouting. "He needs to be here now!"

"Okay," agreed Alex, still eyeing her cautiously. He glanced up, looking at George over her head. "Go find Shepherd."

"But what about Mer?"

"I've got her. Just go find Shepherd."

"Yes," said Meredith vehemently. "Find him. And George…" He paused and looked back at her expectantly, starting slightly when he caught sight of her bitter scowl. Her eyes were flashing with the jagged edges of her pain, all the points having been dipped in something angry and raging. She shook her head, looking nothing short of furious. "When you find him, you tell him he'd better hope I don't fucking push him out the fucking window when he gets back here…" Her voice trailed off into an angry hurting moan as another contraction washed over her, pain corkscrewing across her stomach and around her back.

"I don't… Mer, I don't think I can say that to my boss," stammered George from where he stood wavering in the doorway.

She lifted her head up, glaring at him through the pain. "Then…" she panted. "Tell him. To… Get his. Ass. Up. Here. And, and…" She gasped, the sound coming out tortured and breaking. "And I'll. Tell him… Myself."

"Right," said George faintly as Meredith fell back against Alex. "I can do that. I'll--"

Alex looked up, and cut him off with a shake of his head. "Dude. Just go."

-----

Derek was leaning against the nurses' station, one hand buried in his disheveled curls, propping his head up, and the other clutching a cup of cheap hospital coffee. He was scowling down at the smooth countertop, his jaw set. "Richard," he said tersely. "I've already told you. I'm not operating today."

The older man heaved a sigh. "Just one surgery," he tried.

"No."

"You've already cancelled the other three--"

"I've already cancelled all four," interrupted Derek flatly, his blue eyes darkening until they almost seemed bruised.

"You realize that leaves me with exactly one senior neurosurgeon in the hospital today?" Richard asked with an unhappy glance over his shoulder, eyeing the OR board. He shook his head, and turned back to Derek, his expression entreating.

Derek just scoffed, frustrated. He took a long pull from his coffee, the hot bitter liquid burning his throat as it went down. He winced, and straightened up. Squared his shoulders. "Page another one in if you think you'll need it," he said with a shrug.

"Just one surgery," tried Richard again. "You can fit it in before she gives birth." His expression grew hopeful, and he added, "How far along is she?"

"How far along is she?" echoed Derek, spitting his words back at his boss. "I wouldn't know as I'm out here having this insipid conversation with you!" He raked a hand back through his hair, trying to keep from shouting. "For the last time, Richard, what part of 'my child is being born today' do you not understand? This is not…" He trailed off, and shook his head. He took another huge swallow from his coffee, slumping back against the counter. "It's Meredith," he said tiredly. "Fire me if that's what you want, but the answer's no."

With a final shake of his head, he turned to leave, smacking straight into a breathless frazzled George O'Malley.

"Sorry," George blurted out as soon as they'd both regained their balance. He glanced between the two men, and jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his lab coat. He shuffled back a few steps, apprehensive. "Uh, excuse me Dr. Shepherd, Chief. I'm sorry to interrupt, but," he turned to Derek, "Meredith sent me to find you."

Derek straightened up, his eyes clouding over with worry. "What did she…?"

George glanced down at the floor, and then back up, avoiding Derek's eyes. "She's wondering where you went," he began carefully, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "And she may have mentioned something about shoving you out a window, sir." Derek quirked an eyebrow as the younger man cleared his throat. "Plus a few other things I don't think I can repeat in front of my bosses, but…um, she's angry. Very angry."

Derek shook his head, and turned to look at Richard. "You see? I leave for ten minutes, and my fiancée is already plotting my death."

The older man sighed heavily. "Go," he said, holding his hands up in defeat.

Derek took off without another word, his pace just shy of a run. Not willing to wait for an elevator, he banged his way into the stairwell. Yet again, he found himself taking the steps three at a time, nearly knocking over a nurse as he rounded on the landing. He barreled down the corridor to Meredith's room, only to find her seated on the edge of her bed, gasping her way through a contraction. He motioned to Alex, who sat beside her.

"Good luck," snorted Alex dryly as he got to his feet, the two men exchanging places. "She's pissed." He reached out and ruffled her hair. "And she curses like a sailor," he added, a proud little smirk flitting across his face.

"Yeah," said Derek, laying a hand on Meredith's back. "I know." He nodded his thanks to Alex before turning back to her. "Hey," he said gently.

Meredith glanced up as the pain slowly ebbed, and she was free to do something other than try to breathe. "You," she spat, glaring at Derek.

"Mer…"

"Where did you go?" she demanded.

"I was talking to Richard." Meredith's scowl only seemed to deepen, and he shifted nervously, adding, "He wanted me to operate…"

"Seriously?"

She very nearly shrieked at him, and Derek reached out cautiously to touch her arm. "Mer, I didn't--"

She just jerked away, eyes flashing. "I swear, if you think you can spend today in the OR, your name is not going on the birth certificate, and you can take your stupid ring back," she hissed.

"I told him no," interjected Derek. He grabbed Meredith's arm again, scooting closer to her. "Meredith, of course I told him no."

"Oh…" Her voice quieted some, and she gave a little nod of her head. "Well, good," she said softly. She started to smile, but seemed to change her mind halfway. "That doesn't change the fact that you disappeared without even telling me you were going," she said crossly.

"I know," he agreed. "I'm sorry, I thought I'd be back before you woke up."

"Right," Meredith snorted. "Well, thatproved to be a brilliant plan."

Derek winced at her tone, giving a sad little shrug. "Sorry," he said again. He ran his hand up and down her back, but, other than that, she kept a good foot of the bed between them. "I'm here now, though. No surgeries." She just grunted in reply. The sound wasn't exactly angry anymore, but it had a sharp edge to it, something tired and grumpy. "How're you doing?" he pressed.

"My water broke," she said flatly, still avoiding his eyes to glower down at the printed fabric of her hospital gown.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. And the nurse came by again. She said I'm four centimeters now." A smile crept into her voice at that, her gaze darting towards Derek for a split second before returning to her knees.

"That's great, Mer," he said, grinning down at her. "You're doing great."

She frowned, finally twisting around to really look at him. "Yeah. But what time is it?" Her words held something bitter in them, and he glanced down at his watch, uncertain.

"Quarter to eleven."

"Right…" Meredith bit her lip, worrying it back and forth with her teeth. "That means two centimeters in six hours. That's not great. That's pathetic."

"It's not pathetic," Derek protested. He scooted closer, putting a determined arm around her. "Maybe it's slower than you'd like, but you're doing an amazing job." He touched a hand to her cheek, and she looked up, seeking his eyes out. He tilted his head slightly, winking at her. "All it means is she's as stubborn as you."

Meredith grinned despite herself. "I'm stubborn?" she scoffed. "You're the one who's stubborn." He was halfway to replying when she gave an abrupt shake of her head. "Wait…" she said, her voice twisting away into a whimper. She squeezed her eyes shut, still not used to how strong the contractions had gotten. If she could ever get used to something that carved such a tight and bitter path through her body.

"Shhh," soothed Derek. His one hand still rested on her back, while the other had been relinquished to her grasp, her nails digging angry little crescents into his flesh. "Just breathe, Mer. Nice and slow."

She moaned, letting his voice wash over her. It seemed to seep in through her pores until she was no longer shuddering, but just breathing. Breathing slowly, in and out. Slowly. Finally, she slumped against him, weary and panting.

"Wow," Derek said quietly. "They got--"

"Longer," she supplied with a dry, humorless laugh.

"Yeah." He bent and kissed the top of her head, holding her close to him. "You're doing great though," he continued, his voice low and gentle. Meredith leaned into the sound of his voice, relaxing a little. He was back. Things were… Better, somehow. Less painful. She swallowed hard, suddenly clutching at him.

"You don't get to leave," she blurted out.

Derek just frowned, puzzled. "What?"

She chewed on the corner of her lip, glancing up at him, and then back down at her lap. "I know I went a little crazy," she muttered. "But you have to stay here the entire time. With me."

"I can do that," Derek said. He leaned forward, his voice whispering against her ear. "And you weren't that crazy. I'd been told to expect something involving me and a window, but then I got here and…" He shrugged disappointedly. "Nothing. I didn't fear for my life in the slightest. Frankly, it's a little bit of a letdown."

Meredith turned to look at him, disbelieving. "Ass," she muttered, a small smirk playing across her lips.

-----

Time seemed to blur into something immeasurably long and torturous. Hours passed that felt like days, and, by early evening, Meredith swore she'd been in the hospital for a year already. Her friends came and went, stopping by whenever they could steal a few minutes away from their patients, but it did little to break up the monotony of pain and waiting, pain and waiting. The slow crawl towards ten centimeters seemed to have halted stubbornly at five, leaving Derek a little afraid of his increasingly frustrated fiancée.

"This baby does not want to come out," Meredith muttered. Her voice was quiet, but irritated, and she scowled at Derek as she spoke. The hallway stretching out in front of her looked endless, and yet she'd already walked its length more times than she could count. She was half convinced she'd worn some sort of groove into the slick tile from the hours of pacing up and down, leaning heavily against Derek as she walked.

"Of course she wants to come out," he tried gently. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for Meredith to start moving again. Her brow was knit into a frown, and her mouth was just a thin and angry line. He felt like he'd been blindfolded and made to walk a tightrope, guessing blindly at what would comfort her and what would set her off on another long, ranting diatribe. Just what did the trick seemed to be continually changing.

Meredith looked up at him, vehement. "She does not want to come out," she repeated. "She's decided to live in my uterus forever."

"Mer," Derek said, smiling despite himself. "It's just--"

"No," she continued, cutting him off. "It's not just anything. I have walked a marathon here. I have freaking squatted. I have done everything to get her to come out. She has clearly decided against birth." She stopped abruptly, and Derek tried not to wince as her nails once again dug into him.

"There, see? You're doing great," he murmured softly as she wrung the life out of his hand. "Just try and breathe in and out. That's good. I know it hurts, but keep breathing. It'll help." Meredith's eyes flew open, and she glared at him even as she gasped in pain.

"It'll help?" she hissed angrily. "How about I kick you in the nuts every three minutes, and then you can see just how much a fucking breath of air helps."

Derek swallowed hard. "Well, that's an idea," he said, his voice cautious. Meredith just shook her head, and started walking again. "Come on," he continued. He ran a hand down her back, speaking gently. "I know this is horrible for you, but I'm just trying to help."

She looked up, her expression torn between a frown and a pout. "Technically, I shouldn't even be talking to you right now."

"…What?

Meredith raised an eyebrow at him, aloof. She took another slow step before continuing. "This is all your fault."

He blanched, apprehension filling him. "How so?" he asked hesitantly.

"If you hadn't been so damn horny when we first met… I mean, we date for what? Two months. And already you get me pregnant?"

"I was--"

"And the bar," she continued, speaking over him. "Remember the bar?" He nodded warily. "I was ignoring you!"

"Mer," tried Derek.

She shook her head. "All you have to do is look at the history. We can blame this entirely on you and your stupid boy penis."

"Mer," he repeated, raising his voice slightly.

"What?" she snapped, the word cracking like a whip. She finally looked up at him, teeth gritted.

Derek just grinned, his eyes crinkling. "I love you."

She started to scowl, but a tiny smile cracked its way across her face, and she settled for rolling her eyes instead. Her mood seemed to improve a little, and, on the way back to her room, she only threatened him with bodily harm once.

When they finally made it back, it was to find Cristina sprawled out across the couch. She'd changed out of her scrubs, and was laying there, absently flipping through a magazine. "Took you long enough," she said, looking up. "I've seen turtles walk faster than that."

Meredith frowned, but simply sank wearily down onto the bed.

"Wait," said Derek, incredulous. He raked a hand through his hair, glancing back and forth between the two women. "I tell you you're doing a great job, and you tell me to go to hell. She compares you to a turtle, and gets off free?"

Meredith looked up at him, and gave a slight shrug. "Apparently," she said, her voice thick with exhaustion. He started to protest, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he heaved a sigh, collapsing into the chair beside her bed. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, staring blankly down at the floor.

"You see, McDreamy," said Cristina, grinning delightedly at him. "Your problem is that you do not have a vagina. As Mer's trying to shove a person out of hers, this is currently making you The Enemy." She shrugged, and flipped to the next page in her magazine. "There's really nothing you can do about it." He nodded resignedly, pressing the heels of his hands hard against his closed eyes. "Well, go on," continued Cristina. "I'm not about to give you all night."

Both Meredith and Derek looked up, confused. "What?" they asked in unison.

"My shift's over. Go, eat food. Whatever." She tucked her hands behind her head, and smiled proudly. "It is my gift to you," she declared.

"You want Derek to go and eat?" asked Meredith. She frowned and reached up, rearranging her ponytail.

"I don't have to go, Mer," Derek said quickly. He glanced at her, trying to ignore the hunger pangs that had been plaguing him for the past few hours. "It's fine. I'm not hungry."

She pursed her lips, and gave a disbelieving shake of her head. She scooted further back on the bed, collapsing against the pillows. "Go eat," she said quietly. "You've been with me all day, and the baby's not coming out any time soon." Her voice was a soft tired whisper, her eyes solemn. She smiled a little as Derek got to his feet, crossing over to her.

"You're sure?" he asked, cupping her face in his hands.

"Yeah…" she sighed. She leaned into his touch, and took a slow heavy breath. She whimpered in pain as another contraction sent her leaning even further forward, burying her face against his chest.

"I can stay," he insisted, rubbing his hands slowly up and down her back. She just shook her head, her hair rustling against his sweater.

"No…" she moaned, the sound muffled by his body. "I'm fine. I'm…" She shuddered. Forced herself to breathe again. Tried to blot out the pain. "I'm," she repeated when she'd finally straightened back up. "I'm good. You go and eat, just…don't take to long." She bit her lip, pressing a hand against her stomach. "And don't come back smelling like any sort of weird food," she added weakly. "Just talking about it is making me feel sick."

"Okay," he agreed, softly touching his thumb to her chin. "I won't even be twenty minutes. Call me if you need anything, okay?" Meredith gave a tired little nod, and he turned to thank Cristina. She just rolled her eyes, shooing him out of the room.

She quirked an eyebrow at her friend as the door swung closed. "Do we have to do the whole thing where I hold your hand and tell you to breathe?"

"No…" Meredith wrinkled her nose, managing a small smile. "That'd be weird."

Once he was away from Meredith, exhaustion caught up with Derek. Even keeping his eyes open seemed to suddenly take an inordinate amount of energy. He slumped down at a table in the cafeteria, ignoring the almost continual onslaught of curious glances from the other employees. A few people walked up as he ate, asking about the baby. He managed to grunt out some sort of mumbled reply as he slumped over a sandwich and a bowl of soup. His head ached. His body ached. Everything ached, really. It was as if even his cells were exhausted. He wanted to curl up in the cheap plastic seat and just sleep. He yawned, his jaw cracking as it stretched as wide as it could. Slumping forward, he buried his face in the palms of his hands. But, as soon as he closed his eyes and tried to rest, his mind flashed back to Meredith. He heaved a guilty sigh, and straightened back up. She had to be every bit as tired as him, not to mention in pain he couldn't even imagine. He scrubbed his hands over his face, rubbing roughly at his heavy eyelids. His arm felt like a dead weight, and the spoon a ton of bricks, but he forced himself to shovel the entire bowl of soup down as fast as he could scoop and swallow. Scoop and swallow, scoop and swallow… It was a tedious rhythm, the soup seeming tasteless. The sandwich wasn't much better. Just cardboard. Or maybe sawdust. But, soon enough, every last crumb had vanished. He groaned, forcing himself back up onto his feet. He took a shuffling unsteady step. Yawned like some sort of gaping mouthed lion, and stumbled into the elevator back up to Meredith.

When he reached her room, he found her seated beside Cristina. The two women were talking in lowered voices, their expressions serious. They fell silent as soon as they caught sight of him. Cristina got to her feet, squeezing Meredith's shoulder. And then, with what he thought might be a sad sort of smile, she walked wordlessly out of the room, leaving him alone with Meredith.

"Hi," she said quietly, looking up at him. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah…" He crossed over to the bed, dropping down into the chair beside her. He leaned forward, legs spread and his weight balanced on his knees. "How are you?" he asked, trying to swallow his own exhaustion as he looked up and caught sight of the strange, weary light in her eyes.

She shrugged, chewing on her lower lip. "Uh…the doctor wants to talk to us. I wanted to wait until you got back, and well, now you're back. So…" She sighed, teeth digging even deeper into her lip. "Can you go get the nurse to page her?"

Derek just nodded, squeezing her hands as he got to his feet. He flagged down their nurse, getting a perky "right away" in response before hurrying back to Meredith. Staring at her from the doorway, she looked so disheartened, so broken that his stomach clenched with fear. She looked ready to burst into tears. He swallowed hard, steeling himself to walk back into the room. To make things better for her… Somehow.

"Mer," he murmured as he sat down in front of her again. She was breathing slowly. Her lips were drawn together into a quiet, pained grimace, but she tried to smile at him. Tried to. The failed attempt nearly broke his heart. "Hey," he said, taking her hand in his again, and worrying at her fingers. "What's wrong?"

"She, ah…" Meredith hesitated, and gave a little shake of her head. "She used the scary doctor voice."

"The scary doctor voice?"

"Yeah. Um… Polite, mildly concerned." She waved her hand aimlessly, adding, "Meant to disguise bad news." Her teeth were leaving angry red indents in her lower lip, and her eyes grew wide, suddenly shimmering beneath a sheen of tears. "Just, what if something really is wrong, Derek?" she asked, her voice tremulous. "What if the baby's dying, or--"

"Hey," said Derek, cutting her off as soon as the words left her mouth. He gripped her hands firmly in his, stilling their trembling. "If she thought the baby was in real danger, you wouldn't have been waiting for me with only an off-duty intern for company. You'd already be in the OR. Come on, Mer." He scooted closer to her, his voice low and earnest, pleading with her. "Don't freak yourself out like that."

"Ah, great. You're both here," came a cheerful voice just as Meredith was slowly starting to nod her head. Elizabeth bustled into the room, crossing over to the couple.

"Yeah. We're here," Derek said. He frowned, his hand resting possessively over Meredith's shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly from side to side, lips pursed. "Well, it's not ideal," she said as she lowered herself into a chair. She had Meredith's chart in hand, and she flipped through it before looking up at her. "You're progressing very slowly, Meredith," she said gently. "According to the nurses, you've been stuck at a five for quite a few hours now."

"Yeah," murmured Meredith. She glanced down at her lap. The hand that wasn't gripping Derek's was hovering anxiously over her belly. She tried to fix a determined smile on her face, but she couldn't seem to remember how to smile. She felt frozen with fear and worry, unable to do much more than nod her head.

"Now, it's possible your labor could pick up again on it's own, and you could dilate to ten centimeters," continued Elizabeth. "But, it sounds like you've already done everything I'd suggest for that, and--"

"It hasn't worked," Meredith interrupted dejectedly.

"Right," said Elizabeth. She nodded and clasped her hands together, scooting forward slightly in her chair. "You're both doctors, so I'm really preaching to the choir here, but there's a chance you're labor could stall altogether, and, since your water's already broken…"

"There's a greater risk of infection," supplied Meredith, her voice dull and tired. She drew in a slow shaky breath, steeling herself as another contraction clenched its way through her. She closed her eyes to the pain, waiting and waiting for it to peak and fade away. "What do you think I should do?" she asked at last, looking back at Elizabeth.

"The way I see it, we've two options," said the older woman. "If you want, we can just go ahead and do a c-section for failure to progress, or we can try putting you on Pitocin. It'll make your contractions stronger, and hopefully get you dilated to a ten."

"Right…" breathed Meredith, staring down at her stomach. At her baby. It had been dark when they'd come to the hospital, and now the sky was dark again. She'd thought she would be holding her daughter by now, and instead… Instead she was sitting here with no baby. With nothing. With absolutely nothing other than a lot of pain and confusion. She sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "With Pitocin…" she said slowly, her mind flashing back to the horror stories she'd heard about the drug. The pain. The god awful, unbearable pain. She chewed on her lip, growing wide eyed as she stared at her doctor.

"You'll be monitored carefully the entire time," said Elizabeth.

"Right," Meredith repeated. "Right…" She glanced up at Derek, uncertain. "What should I do?" she asked, her voice a thin and trembling thing.

He sighed, smoothing her mussed hair. "Mer," he said, her name curving gently off his tongue. "It's your body, I can't choose. I want whatever you want, okay?"

She nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I-- I didn't want surgery," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She laid a cautious hand on her stomach, rubbing gently back and forth. "If the baby's still okay, I'll uh… Pitocin." She swallowed again, forcing her voice up a few decibels. "Try the Pitocin."

"Okay," said Elizabeth, already getting to her feet. She offered Meredith a warm smile as she absently pushed her chair out of the way. "I'll have a nurse come in and get you started, and hopefully that'll get things back on track."

Meredith seemed to crumble a little as the doctor left, her shoulders slumping forward and her eyes dimming. Derek sat down beside her, wrapping her gently in his arms. "It's okay," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

She gave a weak nod, looking at him warily out of the corner of her eye. "I feel like crying," she admitted. "But…" She laughed, and the sound was bitter and weary. "That wouldn't really help anything." He just murmured in agreement, folding her tiny hand close with his. Meredith closed her eyes, her voice growing quiet and distant. "I know I'm usually the pessimist here, but…they've already pumped me full of so many drugs for this baby. I just, I thought… No. I hoped that everything would just go perfect for once. All on it's own." She laughed again, but it seemed to be as much a sob as it was anything else.

"Mer," said Derek softly. She didn't say anything, simply sat there with her head tilted towards her lap, eyes closed. He reached out, and curved one finger gently under her chin. Slowly he turned her to face him, brushing the hair back from her face, and letting his fingertips just graze over the dark fringe of her eyelashes. Still Meredith didn't open her eyes, and so he leaned forward until his lips met hers. Softly, gently, he kissed her, and she grudgingly let her eyelids flutter open as they pulled apart. "Maybe this isn't perfect," he allowed, his voice low and measured. "But that's okay. All that matters is that our daughter is perfect, and she will be. You're her mother."

"Yeah…"

For all the conviction in Derek's voice, Meredith's was the opposite. She nodded her head and looked away, once again feeling as if she were swallowing her tears. They turned into a hard and bitter lump as she banned them from her eyes, leaving her feeling like she was trying to force a rock down her throat. But she gave Derek a shaky smile, wanting to believe in his bottomless well of confidence.

She found herself feeling suddenly chained to the bed as a nurse came in and strapped a belt around her stomach, hooking her up to a fetal monitor. Derek sat beside her, talking to her in a low voice that was perfect, and reassuring, and full of love, and yet… It did absolutely nothing to calm her. She couldn't keep from staring as the IV needle was slid into her arm, and the first of the Pitocin pushed in through it. Somehow, it all felt familiar. Horribly familiar. Meredith sighed heavily. She let her head fall back against the pillows, waiting for something to happen.

And it did.

The change came sooner than she'd anticipated. The saving grace about her contractions--the rhythm she'd been able to grasp almost perfectly--just sort of shivered and fell away, fading like smoke. In its place came something that she couldn't understand and couldn't predict. The contractions swept up unannounced, stronger than before. Stronger than before… That didn't begin to do them justice. They were sharp and biting, long and tortured; like knives with blades that burned like fire, stabbing into her while she lay on a bed of broken glass. They were something jagged and hurting, rendering her nearly senseless as she gasped, the sound breaking in agony. Derek's voice just blurred away beneath the roar that was waves of pain, coming one on top of the other with barely a moment to breathe in between.

To breathe…

She wasn't even sure how that worked anymore. In and out. In and out. Curl up and die.

If only she could.

-----

Okay…so, this chapter was a bit less fun and cheerful than the previous one. Derek's trying very hard to be there for Mer even though he's exhausted himself, but, more often than not, he ends up annoying her. Pretty much everything's annoying her at this point though. Which was the best part to write, by the way. I adore angry Mer, and I confess I desperately wanted to work in a way for her to say "you and your stupid boy penis." But, even with the occasional bursts of anger, I think Mer's grateful to have Derek there. Derek is pretty good at calming her down, and just trying to be there for her. She very much wanted this to all go perfectly, even while she kept expecting the worst, and when she realizes she isn't going to get a hundred percent "perfect," she's upset. But having him there, it's helping. And I guess that's about it for now…

Thanks for reading!