A/N 1 - Okay, a bit of a less drama-heavy chapter. This is a bit fillery, sort of the breath after the storm that was the last two chapters. And, it's pretty Mer/Der heavy from Derek's POV. Anyway, I don't think this chapter needs much of an explanation. So, here it is...
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Meredith
When George and Callie finally pull up in front of my house, I slip out of the car with a quick thanks, doing my best to fight back a sigh of relief. It's not that I'm ungrateful to them for rescuing me, because seriously, Callie owes me nothing. And she saved me. I'm incredibly grateful, it's just that there is a fixed limit as to how many of George's questions I can handle right now. He asked me at least a dozen before we had even pulled out of the parking lot at Joe's, my one word answers doing apparently nothing at all to discourage him. And I know he means well. I get that. It's the George-thing, the bumbling goodwill and concern and slightly invasive friendship. And I'm glad to have it back, I really am. It's better then the pretending I don't exist thing he had going on before. But…when I'm in a car with him and his girlfriend, I honestly just don't want to talk about what I was thinking, or why I slept with Derek, or how I slept with Derek. (And seriously, I don't know why George asked that. I hope he's able to grasp how I had sex with Derek on his own.)
So yeah, I'm glad to be home. No more noise, no more people staring at me, no more overly personal questions. Just the dark silence of the front hallway, and the distant sound of George's car pulling out of the drive. I walk through the house, calling softly for Izzie. It's pretty late to still be awake, but it's not like she has to be up early tomorrow. And lately, I've heard her rustling around the house in the dead of the night fairly often. Still she's not downstairs, and I hesitate outside the door to her bedroom, wondering if I should just leave her alone. I shuffle around for a moment, taking my hand on and off the doorknob, but before I have the chance to actually make a decision, the door swings open.
"Izzie?" I gasp, stumbling backwards in shock. "What the…" She just frowns at me, running a hand through the long tangle of her hair.
"Want to come in?" she asks abruptly.
"Umm…yeah, I wanted to…I didn't want to wake you," I stammer, still startled by the door's sudden opening. "I wanted to see how you were doing."
"The same." Izzie flashes me an empty smile before turning back around and walking into her room, leaving the door wide open for me to follow. I hesitate for just a second, but I think I have way too much going through my head to actually manage falling asleep any time soon. So I follow her in, flopping down beside her on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. It's dark in her room, but the window is wide open with the curtains blowing and almost ghostly moonlight streaming in, causing weird shadows to creep across the walls. It's kind of creepy, but it's also kind of beautiful, and so I just let the dark shapes and patches of silvery light distract me. I should probably be doing the concerned friend thing, seeing if Izzie needs to talk or anything.
But I just got back together with Derek.
As in, literally, under an hour ago, I took back the man I've been ridiculously and painfully in love with for the past eight months. That kinda seems like a big deal. I mean, not as big as your fiancé dying obviously. But still…pretty damn big. And it just happened. I should be jumping up and down right now, or calling up Cristina, or…I don't know…doing something though. If only I was one of those girls who keeps a diary. Then I would have something to do. I mean, this would have to be the sort of day that gets a super-sized entry with pink and purple pens and lots of underlining everything. But I've never been one of those girls. The only diary I ever had was a gift from some remote uncle when I was in the seventh grade. I wrote a total of one entry, and that entry had nothing more then the date, my name, and what I'd had for breakfast in it. I wish I was one of those diary-keeping girls. Well, not really because I'm pretty sure I'd have to find a new best friend. Cristina would probably refuse to talk to me on principle. But still, it would be nice. Then I'd be able to react to this properly. I'd also probably be able to focus and say something helpful to Izzie. Instead, I'm just me, and I can't seem to think of anything to say. I'm simply staring at shadows on a ceiling. Yeah…real helpful.
"I can't sleep." Izzie's voice breaks the silence, and I turn my head to the side to look at her.
"Yeah. Me neither," I agree quietly. Her eyes have that slightly puffy look of someone who's been crying not too long ago. Come to think of it, mine probably do to. I wish there was something I could do about her crying all the time, but right now, nothing is coming to mind. I'm seriously worse then Cristina at the comforting-friend thing tonight. I shift nervously, letting us drift back into silence as I drum my fingers against the wall. Izzie scoots up onto her elbows, staring down at me.
"You're freaking out," she says evenly. It's not really a question, but I raise an eyebrow indignantly.
"I'm not freaking out. Why would you think I'm freaking out?"
Izzie shrugs. "Because you are."
"I'm not even saying anything," I stammer. "How could I be freaking out?" Izzie doesn't answer, just matches my raised eyebrow with one of her own. "I'm not freaking out," I repeat once more, crossing my arms stubbornly over my chest. Izzie shrugs and flops back down onto the bed, rolling her eyes at me as she does. I just glare resolutely at the wall. I'm not freaking out. There isn't even anything for me to be freaking out about.
Okay…well, I suppose there's the fact that the last time I saw Derek, he was arguing with Addison. About me. In a bar filled with people I know.
And then there's the fact that he's apparently getting a divorce, and he and I are being something again. I'm not even sure what that something is exactly. But I did take him back, gave my heart back to the man who completely shattered it. (Well, I don't think I ever got it back from him the first time. But now it's his again. Officially.)
Oh, and…he loves me.
Derek Shepherd loves me. Loves me. Me, Meredith Grey…the drunken, sex-fiend, screw up of an intern. No idea how that happened.
But yeah…why would I freak out about that? There's nothing to freak out about. Nothing at all.
"What's wrong Mer?" prods Izzie again, but this time her voice is gentler and less accusing. (See, bad friend…I'm the one who's supposed to be asking her that. Not the other way around.) I sigh, shifting against the pillow before turning to fix her with my best pretend smile.
"Nothing's wrong Iz. I'm fine."
She seems oddly disappointed that everything is alright, because she groans loudly and rolls onto her side, away from me. "You know…you guys don't have to keep doing this," she mutters.
"Doing what?"
"This. What you're doing right now. Being so cautious around me, like you're all afraid I've gone so fragile that no one else can even have a problem. Like I'm so messed up that the thought of one of you having a bad day is going to destroy me."
"Izzie…" I say gently, but she just shakes her head.
"No. All I ever get is people whispering around me. So what if I cry all day? I'm still Izzie. I'm still your friend. And you Mer, are so un-fine right now it's not even funny. So seriously, just tell me what's wrong already!" She flips back over, glaring at me ferociously. It seems incredibly selfish to start talking about Derek, and I happen to think that I look perfectly fine right now. And even if I was slightly, slightly un-fine, Izzie would still be a thousand times more un-fine then me. Still…I think I know what she means. When my mother was in the hospital, I got so sick of people worrying around me and asking me how I was in these carefully sensitive voices that I thought I was going to scream. So I sigh reluctantly, but turn to meet Izzie's eyes. I might as well dive right in.
"Derek's leaving Addison."
Izzie doesn't respond at first, just stares at me, her eyes wide. But finally, she whispers, "Seriously?"
"Seriously," I affirm. "He told me today." I pause for a second, but Izzie just nods her head, urging me to continue. "And…he told me he loves me." It feels odd to say it out loud, the words rolling strangely off my tongue. I hesitate again, but Izzie gasps and reaches out to squeeze my arm. I feel a smile start to spread across my face, and I continue. "Umm…I took him back. Probably stupid, but I did. Oh, and we had sex. At the prom." I catch myself too late, just as the word prom slips off my tongue.
"Oh." The sound is soft, with just a twinge of pain to it. Right, this is why I wasn't supposed to be talking tonight. It's barely been two minutes, and I've already drove us straight to the night Denny died.
"Sorry," I whisper, turning to look at Izzie. Her usually warm brown eyes seem cold and empty. I open my mouth to change the subject, but she shakes her head resolutely.
"Good," she says after a moment, a determined smiling fixing itself on her face. "It's like a rule, you know. People are supposed to have sex at prom."
"Yeah…" I say hesitantly, still not sure how to continue.
"Yeah," she echoes, suddenly shifting to rest her head against my shoulder. "So, that's why you're freaking out?" she asks, her voice coming out small and thin.
"Umm." I frown, nodding my head. "I guess so. I mean, I thought everything was over. I thought I was moving on, that I had to move on. And now…with everything, it seems like it's the total opposite." I shrug and settle deeper into the pillows. Honestly, I don't really know why I'm freaking out. I mean, why I would hypothetically be freaking out. Because…I'm not. I'm totally fine. "It's just a lot."
"Right," whispers Izzie. I think I can feel her shivering slightly. It might just be that she's got her windows wide open and it's not exactly warm out. But I can't help but think it's something more. Something that is still utterly and completely Denny. She lifts her hand into the air, tracing a slow curving arc over us as she says, "You thought you'd lost him." Her hand falls heavily back down to the bed, and this time I'm sure she's shivering. "Lost him," she repeats, the words trembling as they leave her lips.
"Izzie," I say gently. "Iz…we can talk about something else." I look at her hopefully, but, even in the dark, I can see that her eyes are already shinning with tears. She just shakes her head frantically, murmuring something that I can't even begin to make out over her effort to hold back her tears. The next thing I know, Izzie's repressed sobs aren't so repressed anymore. She turns her face into the pillow, her shoulders shaking, and the sound of muffled crying fills the room. I wish I knew how to say just what she needs to hear, but I don't. I'm not even sure there is a right thing to say to her. Instead, I just loop my arm around her and pull her into a hug. I don't know what to do other then let her cry.
Derek
"You know, I don't actually live here," I say as the car turns onto a familiar block that unmistakably belongs to Meredith.
"Yeah…Callie, he doesn't. Why exactly are we taking him here again?" asks George instantly. She doesn't really give him a reply, just a look, and I'm not about to protest further. Not when they're taking me to Meredith. Instead I sigh heavily, settling deeper into the back seat and staring out the window. I hadn't really wanted them to give me a ride. I haven't drank so much that I can't drive, after all. However, Addison's already taken the car, presumably to drive back to the trailer and pack. That's the problem with sharing a car to work the day you end things with your wife. It makes getting around much more difficult. So I'm stuck here, listening to George and his girlfriend talk and watching as the car pulls very deliberately into the drive of Meredith's house. As soon as the engine dies down, I swing the door open, calling my thanks to Dr. Torres and George as I get out.
"It's Callie," she says, and to my surprise follows me out of the car. "Come on George," she adds, leaning against the open window. "It's nearly two am. Let's just stay here." I glance down at my watch. 1:53 She's right, which means I've got to get up again in three and a half hours. I groan but follow them up the stairs and into the house. I love this place. It feels so completely like Meredith; warm, comfortable, and a little messy around the edges. I breathe in the vaguely floral scent that fills the room as Dr. Torres…I mean Callie, wanders towards the darkened kitchen. The house is deathly quiet and its been months since I was last here, still I could probably find the way to Meredith's room with my eyes closed. I'm halfway to the staircase when George speaks, stopping me mid-step.
"Dr. Shepherd?" I turn around, nodding but not saying anything. George shuffles his feet, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. "Umm…" he begins hesitantly. I nod again, casting an impatient glance towards the staircase. "I know you're my boss," he continues, the words tumbling out in a rush. "And I know it's probably not my place to say this…but maybe it is. Meredith's my roommate, she's my friend. She's part of my family really, so I'm just…I'm going to say it." He pauses, looking anxiously at me as if waiting for a reply. I'm not sure what to say. He obviously wants to tell me something about Meredith.
I nod my head. "Okay."
He takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor. "Don'thurtherthistime." The words come out strung together, completely garbled up, and I honestly have no idea what he's saying.
"What?"
"Don't hurt her this time," repeats George, this time speaking clearly and meeting my eyes.
"Oh…I don't want to hurt…"
"I know you don't want to hurt her," interrupts George quietly. "Nobody wants to hurt Meredith, but you consistently end up doing it." I frown, crossing my arms over my chest, but George just keeps on talking. "Last time, when you left her before, she was…well, she was pretty much destroyed. And I know you know she was sad and upset and everything, but I promise you that however bad you think it got, it was actually at least ten times worse." I wince and look away.
"What are you saying?" I ask, my voice sounding hollow. "That you wish I wasn't back?" George hesitates for a moment, but then shakes his head.
"No. No, not that. It's good you're back…for Meredith it's good you're back. She needs you." George's eyes darken, and for a moment he almost looks angry. "She wrecks everyone and everything around you she needs you so much," he adds quietly.
"Oh…" I say again, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I don't really know how to reply to that, so I nod my head and fall silent. George doesn't make any move to speak. We just stare at each other for a moment, until we simultaneously seem to grasp how awkward this conversation is.
"Yeah," says George, shifting towards the kitchen as I take a half-step towards the stairs. "She deserves to be happy for once. So just, don't hurt her again Dr. Shepherd." I nod my head, and turn to walk up the staircase. I don't think I was particularly cheerful tonight to begin with, but George effectively sobered my mood even further. I don't like to think about just how destroyed Meredith was when I left. It makes me feel like the worst sort of asshole in the world. I sigh and knock on the door to her room. She doesn't answer. Judging by the utter quiet up here, she's probably asleep. Still…I just want to see her. I open the door as quietly as I can, stepping into the doorway of her room.
Only…it's empty.
Her bed is unmade, just like it used to be. The covers tangled up and strewn about, pillows overflowing from the bed onto the floor. I take a few steps into the room, taking in the laundry basket filled with clothes halfway to being folded, the stack of medical journals over by her window, an old photograph on her bedside table. I pick it up, switching on the lamp to examine it. It has to be her family. That tiny family she had for just a little while, her mother and father standing side by side yet not touching, and Meredith, her blonde hair in pigtails, staring straight at the camera. She looked stubborn even then. I smile at the image of a five-year-old Meredith, and set it back down on the table. It's not as good as the real, living, breathing, twenty-nine-year-old Meredith though. I sigh, feeling suddenly anxious. I don't know where else she'd be but here. I hear footsteps, and walk back into the hallway, hoping to find her. Instead, I come face to face with George and Callie making their way up the flight of stairs.
"What are you…" begins George.
"Meredith," I answer, glancing back at her empty room. "She's not there. It's two in the morning, shouldn't she be in her room?" Callie smirks at my question and I frown. I hadn't meant to sound so anxious, but seriously, where is she? George doesn't seem even slightly worried, just tilts his head towards an open door further down the hall.
"Try Izzie's room," he says, as he slips his hand through Callie's, leading them towards his own room. "She's in there a lot." I nod as they disappear, the door closing behind them and muffling the sounds of their voices. I walk hesitantly down the hall, glad that the door is open already. It's one thing to walk into Meredith's room unannounced, but it's another thing altogether to barge into the room of her grieving roommate. Still…O'Malley was right. She is with Izzie. I freeze in the doorway, not wanting to disturb either of the sleeping women. I swallow hard, just staring at Meredith. She's changed out of the jeans and sweater she wore earlier, and the sheer white shirt she's wearing now had ridden up high around her waist. She looks so beautiful, her blonde hair strewn across the pillows, her features peaceful…serene even. Part of me wants to walk right in and gather her up in my arms, but something is holding me frozen on the outskirts of the bedroom. She's sleeping, I'd be disturbing her. Meredith didn't even say I could come over. Maybe she just wants to be alone tonight. Feeling suddenly anxious, I sigh and start to retreat into the hallway.
"Derek?" The voice is soft and thick with sleep, but definitely Meredith's. I turn back to find her rubbing a hand over her eyes, blinking up at me disbelievingly. "Why are…umm…" She shakes her head slightly, pursing her lips, and scooting down the bed past Izzie.
"Sorry…I can go," I begin awkwardly, but Meredith just shushes me. She turns back to glance at her friend, adjusting the blankets around her, before getting up and walking past me into the hallway. "I didn't mean to wake you up," I continue, and Meredith shakes her head, stifling a yawn.
"No, I'm glad you're here," she says softly, leaning her head against my chest as she speaks.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Meredith nods, her hair rustling against the leather of my jacket. She doesn't say anything for a moment, but when she does, her voice is muffled against me. "You talked to Addison?" I nod, bending down and pressing my lips to the top of my head.
"I did. It's…well, it's definitely over."
She looks back up, raising an eyebrow at me. "I heard you both yelling at Joe's."
"Yeah," I agree. Meredith doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at me, so I carry on. "I swear we ended it Mer. She's leaving. Hell, she's probably trashing the trailer and moving her stuff out as we speak." Meredith nods, folding her arms over her chest. Still…she doesn't speak, just watches me, her green eyes trained steadily on my face. "What is it Mer?" I ask hesitantly. "You don't believe me?"
"No, it's not that," she answers, finally speaking. She smiles dryly, shaking her head. "I heard how loudly you two were fighting. I believe you. It's just…something's wrong."
"Something's wrong?" I echo, looking down at her. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"
"I don't know…you tell me. You…" She reaches up, her hand landing gently on the side of my cheek, turning my face towards her. "Something's wrong," she repeats, her eyes boring into me. I don't know how she does it, how she picks up on the little threads of thoughts and feelings running through me, and somehow reads all the emotions exactly right. "Something happened to you," she insists, her eyes still searching my face. I sigh heavily, looping my arms around her waist, hands folding against the small of her back.
"She stayed with Mark," I say quietly, but somehow the words sound unnaturally loud.
"Oh…"
"In New York, after I left…they just…stayed together. She never told me, simply let me think it was a one time thing. Stupid I know…why wouldn't my wife stay with my best friend?" I shake my head, switching the order of the words. "My best friend stay with my wife…" Either way it still sounds wrong…sounds cheap and cruel.
"Derek, I'm sorry," says Meredith quietly, rising up onto her tiptoes and pressing her lips to mine. She doesn't kiss me, just stands there pressed against me, her hands running through my hair. I sigh, breathing in the faint smell of lavender that still hangs around her, as she finally opens her mouth and kisses me slowly. My arms tighten around her, bringing her closer to me as some of the pain starts to melt away. After a moment though, Meredith pulls back, leaning against my hands and looking up into my eyes. "She should have told you. She should have, but don't be too mad Derek. She was probably afraid she would loose you if she mentioned it. You were already angry and, well…" Meredith pauses, shrugging her shoulders as a sad smile flits across her face. "You aren't exactly someone people want to loose." Her voice falters slightly, and I feel her grip on me tighten. I don't deserve her. Somehow, Meredith's the one comforting me when I'm the one who "destroyed her." It should be the other way around.
"Mer," I begin. "If I'd known that…if Addison had told me, I would have signed the papers in a heartbeat." Meredith closes her eyes, resting her head on my shoulder as I speak. "I took her back because I had to, not because I wanted to. I never wanted to leave you. And now," I shake my head, laughing bitterly. "Now it turns out I didn't even have to, and I left you for nothing." Meredith snaps back up, her eyes shinning. I can feel her trembling slightly in my arms. "I never would have left Mer…"
"I know," she whispers, biting her lip. "But you did Derek. You left, and now everything's changed. We've both changed. And now, everybody knows. I mean, we're going to go to work tomorrow, and everyone will know. It's a lot Derek." I nod as she continues talking, slipping back into her familiar mode of rambling. "Addison hates me now. I'm a whore."
"No," I interrupt, reaching out and grabbing hold of her hands. "You're not a whore Meredith." She nods slightly, but doesn't meet my eyes and I suddenly realize that she doesn't quite believe me. That I might have done far more damage to her in my anger and jealousy then I ever intended to. "Meredith…Mer, look at me." She doesn't at first, but I lift her chin and she meets my eyes reluctantly. "You are not a whore."
"Oh, so now that I've slept with you again that goes away?" She sounds more then a little bitter, and she crosses her arms protectively over her chest.
"No…it was never true. I…I…" I stammer, shaking my head. "I said it to hurt you," I admit at last, feeling my cheeks burn with shame. God…I've been an asshole to her.
"To hurt me?" Meredith echoes weakly.
"I was so jealous Mer," I say helplessly, shrugging my shoulders. "It's not an excuse, it doesn't fix it at all, I know that. But Mer…I couldn't even think straight. Just knowing that someone else could have you when I couldn't, that you were with someone else, more then one someone else…I was so jealous," I repeat again, recalling the hot bubbling pain that fills me every time I realize that Meredith is with someone other then me. "But it doesn't make you a whore Mer. It just makes me a jealous ass." She nods and I think I see a faint flicker of a smile cross her face.
"But you don't get jealous," she says quietly. "You told me that."
"I didn't get jealous," I agree. "Before I met you. With you though…" I trail off, shrugging my shoulders.
Meredith looks up, and this time she's definitely smiling at me. "With me you're an ass," she says, finishing my sentence for me.
"I guess so," I laugh, just glad that she's smiling. "But Meredith," I continue, my voice turning serious again. "You believe me? That you're not a whore?"
She nods, her voice quiet. "Yes…" She leans against me again, and we fall silent, simply standing there in the dark hallway. "Derek?" she begins again after a moment.
"Mer?"
"What are we doing? I mean, about you and I? We can't just travel back in time to before everything..."
"We can do whatever you want," I interrupt, cutting her short.
"Whatever I want?" She looks up and frowns at me.
"Yes. We can do this as slowly as you want. If you just want to be friends first that's fine. If you think we need to talk more, or I don't know…whatever you need." I smile at her, running my hands through her loose hair. There isn't a simple way to explain how much I've missed her, or just how much I would do to keep her now…but it's a lot. "I love you Meredith," I say, pressing my lips against her forehead. "So I'm here and I'm staying, how we do everything though…it's up to you."
She nods her head, seeming to consider this. When she speaks, her voice sounds soft and a little unsure. "Tell me that again."
"Tell you what again?"
She shrugs her shoulders, looking up into my eyes. "That you love me." I nod my head, grinning at her, my fingers playing in her hair.
"I do. God Mer…I love you. I think you're perfect. Even if I could, I wouldn't change a single thing about you. You're it for me Mer."
"You love me," she echoes, sounding almost amazed at the idea. I nod again, tilting my head down towards her. "I love you too," she adds in a whisper, her lips finding mine and her hands coming between us to pull the zipper of my jacket down. She shrugs it off my shoulders, sighing as my hands slip under the sheer fabric of her shirt and over the warmth of her body. "Do you still remember where my room is?" she asks, tilting her head back to smirk at me.
"Of course. I could never forget." I should've remembered Meredith was never one to favor taking things slow. She just reaches out, taking my hand in hers, leading us down the silent hall and into her room. This time, she doesn't laugh as I pull off her shirt and we fall backwards onto her bed. We just stare at each other wide-eyed, not wanting to look away for a second. It feels odd to be back here with her after all this time. But as Meredith wraps her arm around my neck, pulling me down to her and kissing me again, I realize that it feels completely right.
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A/N 2 - Okay, like I said, it was a bit of a filler chapter. Nothing really dramatic happened. However, I really wanted Mer and Derek to actually talk about things, and just sort of...have something a little less intense after the last two chapters. So hopefully, you guys enjoyed it. I really enjoyed writing it, because it had a bit of fluffy happy Mer/Der in it, after a good eight chapters of angst. Also, I wanted to include the whole Derek calling Meredith a whore thing into my story, because I really do think he hurt her. She cares a lot about what Derek thinks about her, so having him call her a whore probably didn't do anything to convince her otherwise. Anyways...there's about three chapters left, maybe four depending on how long scenes get when I write them out. Coming up, there will be a final conflict and resolution with Addison, some drama at work with everyone knowing what happened at the bar, some more Mer/Der...hopefully I'll have another update before the weekend is over. Thanks so much for all the reviews, they really mean a lot, so please if you've read this far, leave a comment! I'd love to hear what you think. (Also...wow. Less then a week until Season 3. I am seriously excited!)
