What If – chapter 6

A.N: Sorry for the delay – I have just started a new job so there hasn't been a whole lot of time for writing. So, this what if is a little bit random and possibly out of character but I thought I would give it a try anyway. This is an idea that has been knocking around in the back of my mind for a while now so I thought I would try and fit in here. Jane Eyre is my favourite book in the whole world and there are so many similarities between this story and Meredith and Derek's in season one and two and as an English Lit graduate I read way into much into this sort of thing! I never really thought of Mer as someone who reads either but then in Give Peace a Chance she mentioned trying to read Anna Karenina so I thought maybe this might work. I would love to know what you think. All the italics are quotes from Jane Eyre.

Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy or Jane Eyre – my writing does not compare to either.

What If Meredith had picked up a book instead of returning to the hospital? (2x13)

"There," Meredith said, pleased with herself "five loads of laundry. I have literally washed the past out of my life." Doc looked up at her as if to say 'don't kid yourself' but Meredith ignored him. She had been sent home from the hospital and had headed straight for the shower and attempted to wash away the feeling of Derek's eyes on her in the elevator. But the entire time she had been totally preoccupied by his words

"I'm over you too"

"Really?"

"No"

She had desperately tried to play it cool, but inside she was leaping around with joy – he wasn't over her. But once the elevator doors had opened she had crashed back to reality and was now determined to forget all about it. New Year, new start...no thinking about Derek...she was over him...really.

No more than a few minutes after washing away her past, there was nothing to do. Stupid eighty hour limit, how was she supposed to not think about Derek when there was nothing to do except sit and think about Derek? Meredith began searching her house for something to do, anything to get her mind off of the thing she wasn't supposed to be thinking about.

She was on the verge of giving up and going back to the hospital when she found Doc in her room chewing happily on a book that had been under her bed. She wrestled it out of Doc's jaws she wiped away the drool and looked down at the cover. Jane Eyre. She remembered starting it years ago before Derek, before med school, before Europe but she had given up on it because the story of the cruelty suffered by the orphaned Jane at the hands of her family had been too much for her. Especially since it was at a time when she was feeling particularly lonely and rejected by her own mother; it had hit too close to home so she hadn't got further than the chapter when Jane gets sent away to school. Maybe now was the time to try again. It would at least stop her from driving herself crazy thinking about Derek. She settled down in the chair in the corner of her room and began to read. She skimmed through the opening few chapters but still recognised the feelings of loneliness felt by the young heroine of the book. In fact, she thought change Aunt Reed's name to Ellis Grey and she could have been reading her own life story. She read for hours, she had forgotten how enthralling the writing was and was relieved to find that a few hours later all her thoughts had been Derek-free. Then she reached the chapter when the hero made his entrance into the story. Mr Rochester.

As she read on the details of the plot became even more familiar. Woman starts new job and falls madly in love with her boss. Yep, Meredith could relate to that; the problem was now images of Derek swooping around in nineteenth century costume, all dark and brooding, were going round and round in her head to the point where she had to put the book down.

Hours later the words were still circling her head except now it wasn't Rochester saying them, it was Derek – I offer you my hand, my heart and a share of all my possessions...I ask you to pass through life by my side...my bride is here because my equal is here, and my likeness – no one talks like that anymore thought Meredith as she cut away her split ends. Her musings were interrupted when she glanced at the clock and noticed it was time to return to the hospital and the real world. The world where she was alone and the love of her life was married only not to her. As she was running out of her room she noticed the book sitting abandoned on the arm of her chair, she stared at it debating whether or not she should read on. What was the point? Did she really want to read about someone whose situation was so similar to her own but who managed to get their happy ending when hers was out of reach? Making her decision she grabbed the book and stuffed it into her bag, rationalising that she would be too busy on call to breathe let alone read.

She couldn't have been more wrong. Meredith had been on call for an hour and hadn't been paged once. The citizens of Seattle seemed to be on their best behaviour leaving Meredith with plenty of time on her hands. Glancing at the surgical board she noticed that Derek had just started a craniotomy – might as well learn something while I've got some time, she thought and headed to the gallery. She took a seat in the back row and pulled out her book from the pocket of her lab coat. Learning could wait a few pages she reasoned. She started to read, eyes involuntarily glancing up to look at Derek whenever Rochester appeared on the page. She hadn't been there long when Derek noticed her. He could she her hunched over, brows furrowed in an adorable look of concentration. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a smile, his surgical mask hiding this display of emotion from the prying eyes of those around him.

Up in the gallery Meredith was totally lost in the world of the book, anticipation building along with the characters as the wedding day approached. But, once again, as in her own life Jane's world came crashing down in just a few words...

The marriage cannot go on: I declare the existence of an impediment...Mr Rochester has a wife now living.

Meredith slammed the book shut and raised her hand to her cheek to find it damp with tears, more similarities. Derek...Rochester – they were the same. Stupid men with their secret wives. Echoes of 'and you mut be the woman whose been screwing my husband' swirled around in Meredith's brain as she saw her own heartbreak reflected in the words on the page – my hopes were all dead – struck with a subtle doom.

Down in the OR Derek was finishing up when he glanced up into the gallery to catch Meredith furiously swiping tears off of her cheeks as she continued to look down at something in her hands, a patients chart he assumed. He felt the smallest pang of disappointment that she was not crying for him. Maybe she was really over him. He didn't want to believe her earlier that day in the elevator, especially as he was more in love with her than ever. He immediately suppressed this feeling; he had no right to think like that. He left her. He couldn't expect her to sit pining for him when he had a wife t go home to. He had made his choice, even if it was the wrong one, he had to live with it. Derek turned to the resident on his right and asked him to close and scrubbed out as quickly as he could without making people suspicious. He headed for the gallery completely forgetting the promise he had made to Addison to come straight home when his surgery was finished. So much for his New Year's resolution to try harder.

Up in the gallery Meredith was oblivious to anything but the words on the page in front of her. She was thinking back to the night she had driven out to the trailer to hear what Derek had to say about his wife's arrival while reading Rochester tell his side of the story. Like Meredith, Jane had given Rochester a chance to explain but unlike Meredith she had forgiven him – I forgave him all: yet not in words, not outwardly; only at my heart's core.

Just as she was admiring Jane's courage at not submitting to being Rochester's mistress and leaving him behind the door of the gallery open and in stepped the very man who had occupied her thoughts all day

I must leave him, it appears. I do not want to leave him – I cannot leave him

"Hey," he said softly taking the sat next to her and looking down into the gradually emptying OR below "are you okay?"

There was such deep remorse in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such manly energy in his manner; and besides, there was such unchanged love in his whole look

"Yeah," Meredith replied, willing herself to look up at him even though she knew she would be totally helpless as soon as she did. "What are you doing up here?" he asked reaching out to brush away the last few tears which had escaped.

I remembered caresses were now forbidden. I turned my face away

Meredith flinched back and Derek's eyes filled with hurt. "What, I can't even be your friend? You're upset. Let me help. I'm a great listener you know" he smirked.

There is neither room nor claim for me, sir

"We can't be friends" Meredith replied sadly, "you have a wife, you can't stay friends with me too. I'm not sure I could take it." Her voice cracked and she broke down into sobs.

The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself

Derek held Meredith close as she sobbed and the book fell to the floor with a soft thud. Derek reached down to pick it up keeping one arm wrapped around Meredith's shoulders. "Working hard I see," he said quietly with a small smile, "what's it about?"

"It's a love story," replied Meredith.

"A love story? I would never have pegged you for the love story type."

"Don't peg me, I'm not peggable" smiled Meredith. Derek chuckled as he pulled her closer so that her head rested on his shoulder. They sat lost in their own thoughts, relishing the contact between them. In that moment the gallery became their own private bubble, no on existed but them, anything was possible. "I want you to know," began Derek softly "that what we had was real, it wasn't just a fling."

"I know" Meredith murmured.

I do love you...more than ever: but I must not show or indulge that feeling and this is the last time I must express it

She pulled away and looked into Derek's eyes

He seemed to devour me with his flaming glance: physically, I felt, at that moment, powerless

And was immediately drawn to him, they leaned closer, lips almost touching but at that moment her pager went off and she snapped back to reality. She leapt up and headed for the door but stopped when she reached it.

"Good night Derek,"

"Good night Meredith"

'Farewell' was the cry of my heart as I left him. Despair added – 'farewell forever'

As the door clicked shut Derek looked down at the book in his hands, opened it and began to read.

A.N: So I'm ending it here because I could go on forever about the similarities between Jane Eyre and Meredith and Derek's story right down to talking about imagery but I'm finding it more difficult to weave a plot around that and I'm pretty sure if I started talking about imagery it would get boring really fast. I will just say that Patrick Dempsey is a total master of the "flaming glance" that Bronte describes Rochester as having! Plus I don't want to give any more of the plot of Jane Eyre away because I think it's awesome and I don't want to spoil it for anyone – if you do want to know what happens in the book then PM me and I will tell you.

I know it's not really a proper what if but I will leave it to your imaginations to decide what comes next. Please take a few minutes to review or to leave a suggestion for a new what if.