(GA & its characters belong to Shonda – not me...)
"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Meredith pushed back from Derek, straining against his arms til she was able to sit up. "And what do me and my mom have to do with your not getting Chief?"
Derek reached for her. "Mer, it doesn't matter."
"Oh yes it does. You came to Seattle to be Chief. And now because of my mom you can't?" Meredith was incredulous. "It doesn't make sense."
Derek sat upright, resting against the padded headboard. He really didn't want to rehash the details. After meeting with Richard, it had taken Derek a week to cool off. "Richard said the job killed his marriage, and he didn't want it to kill us. So, he was removing my name from the list."
"Seriously?" Meredith's hands clutched the comforter, bunching the fabric in her fists. Derek reached for one of her hands, gently prying the material away.
Meredith watched his hands remove the comforter from her hands, and take her hand in his. She had so many questions. "Why didn't you tell me? When did this happen?"
Derek kept his eyes on their joined hands. "About a week ago. Mad doesn't come close to describing my reaction to Richard. It felt like my career, as I knew it, came to a complete stop."
"God, no wonder you didn't want to be around me," Meredith felt cold.
"No!" Derek tightened his grip on her hand. "Don't you ever think that!"
"I called you Derek. Left messages…"
"Which I returned."
"Some of them, and a day later."
"I know," Derek ground out. He knew he had avoided Meredith. He didn't like to be reminded of it. He never blamed her for Richard's decision. But he needed perspective and time to get rid of the anger. "I know."
Meredith shook her head. His behavior made sense now. Derek wanted Chief of Surgery. Badly. He moved to Seattle for it. Ok, with a healthy shove from Addison and Mark, but he moved across the country for it. And because of her, Derek got screwed. Without a kiss.
Without a second thought to her actions, Meredith moved toward the edge of the bed. She had to move. She had to go.
"Stop!" Derek's hand clamped around her wrist and pulled. Meredith lay sprawled, face down, anchored across his body before she realized what happened.
"No Derek, I can't…" Meredith tried to crawl toward the edge of the bed. She really had to get out of the room. She couldn't take Derek blaming her for losing Chief of Surgery. Deep down, Meredith knew he blamed her. He blamed her, and he was going to leave.
"Stop it, will you?" Derek insisted, his tight grip on her body prevented any movement on her part. "Will you quit running away?"
His comment stilled her struggle. Did Derek really want to go there?
"That's what you do." Derek continued.
It appeared Derek did want to go there. "That's what I do?"
"Yes."
"And what do you call what you do?"
Meredith watched Derek close his eyes with something resembling regret as he realized what words fell from his mouth. His grip loosened, allowing her to scramble off the bed and stand next to it. As much as she dearly wanted to be somewhere else, defensively curled up in a ball in the back of her closet hiding from the pain she knew was coming, Meredith couldn't move. A greater fear kept her anchored to the side of the bed. "Derek, what do you call what you do?" She blinked to keep tears back.
Feeling Meredith leave the bed, Derek opened his eyes expecting to be alone in the room. He was surprised to see Meredith standing, arms crossed, next to the bed. The look on her face brought back a painful memory of the exact moment in the scrub room when she realized he was staying with Addison. "Meredith, can we forget that I just said something incredibly stupid?"
"Derek, what do you call what you do?"
"What I do?" His confused blue gaze met her wet, pained eyes, darkened to a stormy grey.
"What you do." Meredith sighed. It felt as if a person other than she spoke. "I'll admit, I may have been scarce recently. But I did reach out to you a few times. I do not recall you doing the same."
Meredith watched with a strange sense of detachment as Derek roughly thrust his hand in his hair, pushing it off his forehead. He was frustrated.
"I was pissed off at Richard."
"Why couldn't you tell me that?"
Derek thought about the anger consuming him all week. Being denied his career goal because of his personal life. Because of the woman he loved. Because of Meredith. He pushed to keep that anger at bay. He knew it wasn't her fault. He never blamed her for Richard's decision or Ellis' request. She was thrown in the middle of it.
"I couldn't tell you why Chief wasn't mine."
Hearing the heated tone of Derek's voice, Meredith took a step back from the bed.
"The Chief pulled your personal life into this, and it's my fault?" Meredith questioned. "You got involved with the wrong woman, and it's my fault?"
"I'm not saying it's your fault…" Derek moved toward Meredith, but stopped when she gestured for him to stay put.
"Yes you are. That's why you stayed away." Meredith labored to keep her voice down, tried to keep her breaths slow and even. "Derek, I know I run. I run from the certainty of pain. I have no idea what you're running from. Richard screwed you, and you didn't tell me." She inhaled. "You ran."
"I knew you'd take this the wrong way." Derek shook his head. "I didn't run. Susan died and then Thatcher in the waiting room…" Derek cringed as he thought of his delayed reaction to the slap, and watching Meredith run down the hallway. "I didn't want to dump my problem and anger on top of all that. Besides," he continued. "It's not like you came to me."
"My waiting at home for you was my coming to you," Meredith shook her head. "Sure we were in this weird place. We weren't good, but we weren't horrible either. But for the first time in a while, you said you were coming over. With food, even. So I sat. And I waited. I did not run. I didn't make an excuse why you couldn't come over. You never showed. No Derek. No phone call. Nothing." Meredith glanced down at her bare feet before meeting Derek's eyes. "I never asked you later why you didn't show. I guess I was afraid of what you'd say."
God, how did talking evolve into finger pointing? They were going to talk and calmly clear the air to fix themselves. Not do this. Derek rubbed a tired hand over his chin. "You didn't look like you missed me."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I did come by. You were in the living room with Alex and Izzie drinking tequila, having a good time. You didn't look like you missed me."
Meredith took a seat on the edge of the mattress, her hip mere inches away from Derek's legs. "Alex and Izzie live there, Derek. I didn't invite them over." She paused, her hand tracing the fabric pattern across his leg. "Why didn't you come in?"
Derek didn't consider himself a jealous person. But what else would explain the upset he felt that at the end of the day Meredith had, she turned to Alex and Izzie and not him? That upset stopped him from ringing the doorbell. At the time, it made all the sense in the world. Meredith pushed him away. Again. And turned to her friends.
"You had Izzie and Alex. You were smiling after the day from hell. I felt I'd be a third wheel. So I left."
"I don't understand. I didn't have Izzie and Alex. They live there. There were...there. I was waiting for you."
Having his fill of the hurt, confused look on Meredith's face, Derek reached for Meredith before she could react. Anchoring her against his chest, Derek scooted backwards, leaning against the headboard. With a great sigh, Meredith rested her head against his shoulder and wrapped an arm around him.
"I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about Chief." Derek whispered into Meredith's hair.
Meredith tilted her head up. She could see the regret on his face. "Chief is big, Derek. Really big. I know how much it means to you, and not telling me about it...hurts. A lot." Reaching, Meredith brushed her lips against his.
Derek's lips returned the caress. "I really wanted to be there for you at Susan's funeral. It did upset me that you didn't let me go with you."
"I'm sorry." Meredith returned to her place against his shoulder, her hand rubbing slow, gentle circles over his heart. "I'm not used to anyone being there for me. I only know to doing things by myself."
"And I'm really sorry I didn't kick your dad's ass for what he did."
"His name is Thatcher," Meredith responded. "Not 'Dad.'"
Gently grasping Meredith's chin, Derek raised it so he could fit his mouth over hers. Using his lips, Derek tried to erase the pain and misunderstanding that existed between them. His tongue tenderly nudged her lips, as if asking for permission to enter. In reply Meredith opened, allowing his tongue to sweep inside and caress hers. Winding an arm around his neck and bringing him closer, Meredith met Derek stroke for stroke, seeking more of his taste, more of him. The sound of heavy breathing and wet kisses filled the air as their lips and tongues sipped and soothed in mutual apology for days of pain and separation.