A/N: Thanks so much for your patience, everyone! I wasn't quite sure how deep I wanted to go with this, so it took longer than I thought! Anyway,

Enjoy!

Meredith shivers. Even in Derek's arms, she can't control the cold that seems to seep out of her. "Shh," Derek says, pressing his lips to her temple. They're sitting up in bed now, with Derek's bedside light on, and his arms around her as he listens.

"I was scared. All the time, Derek. I wanted to go back… I wished… I wished…" She can't say it. At her 32 week appointment, her thoughts turned dark. It was real. She was housing a baby and not a potato blob. And very, very, soon It would be coming out of her. But not without a lot of pain first.

A lump clogs her throat, and she sniffs. "I just wanted it to be over," she says.

"Didn't your mom help?"

Meredith shakes her head. "She pushed me to take care of myself. But… she wasn't there, really. The more I showed… the less she wanted to be around. I think… I think I reminded her of something, I don't know."

Derek rubs her shoulders, her back. "You went to your appointments alone?"

Meredith shrugs. "You know my mother," she says.

"I know," he sighs. "But, you were so young."

"I was eighteen."

"Exactly. You were a teenager, Mere."

The way he says it saddens her. She didn't know any better. She thought she was being an adult at the time. But if Zola was pregnant? God, she'd drop everything. Be a lion, like Susan.

Meredith frowns, fidgeting with the blanket as she sighs, thinking. In hindsight, she understands that her mother should have picked up the slack in the adulting department here. Clearly, young, naive Meredith was too emotionally overwhelmed to handle the complex discussions that took place, especially at the last appointment.

That's what led to the fight.

That's what led to her leaving.

"We had a big fight. She…" Meredith swallows. He's there. William. Looming in all the crevices of her memories. Over the years, she's swept him into all the corners, pushed him into the closet, under the bed, locked him in a room in her mind. Now Derek's here with a candle, knocking on the door. Will he still be there when he sees what's inside? She hopes so.

"She brought it up again. The rape. She blamed me, and I… couldn't- couldn't breathe. So I left."

Derek squeezes her tightly to himself. Kisses her temple and her cheek, scratching her with his stubble. His sigh in her ear says, 'I wish I'd been there.' "Where did you go?" he asks.

"Sadie's."

"Harris?" Derek's eyes grow wide. "Sadie? As in your substitute Person?"

Meredith scowls at that. Sadie… is complicated. "I met her in a chem class I was taking, trying to boost my grades for college. She was my friend. My only friend at the time."

"So, your Person."

"Cristina is my Person. Sadie… she tried. She did the best she could. She was there."

Derek nods. "She was there. Wait… she was there?" His hand tightens around hers.

She squeezes back. Sadie's brief stint in Seattle a few years ago didn't leave a great impression on her friends, or her, for that matter. But… sixteen years ago, Sadie was there when she needed someone, and that counted. "Like I said, she did the best she could. It's… complicated. We're complicated."

"I'm sorry. I… you must've been terrified"

"I was. It wasn't just about having the baby… I was scared the adoptive family wouldn't come and I'd be stuck raising her."

"Oh, Mere…"

"So I found out her address, and I met her."

"Did it help?"

"Yeah." It helped. And hurt.

xxx

October 1996

Light rain spritzes on her face and hair as she exits Sadie's Camaro. It's a day where you flirt with an umbrella, but never commit. Meredith tugs at her borrowed trenchcoat, clasping the sides over her bulging middle. From the back, it fits perfectly, and if she shoves her hands in the pockets and pushes out, one wouldn't immediately notice her pregnant profile. She trudges down the block to the cozy blue-trimmed white house on the corner, deep in the Boston suburbs. This is where her baby will go after it's born, nothing like the grand house she was raised in. Meredith hopes that's a good thing.

She flicks the latch on the gate and steps into the front yard. Scraggly grass creeps over the sidewalk edges, but there's promise in the flower garden beside the steps. A thick dense rosebush billows by the door, the leaves and flowers are faded, but no less endearing. An old weathered sunflower bows its big head at her and she strokes the dried petals. Fingers shaking, she presses the doorbell. Meredith swears she can feel her carotid pulsing beneath her scarf. She's doing the right thing, isn't she? Rachel is good. The adoptive family she chose is good. This is all for the best. It has to be.

Yet she wants to run.

Seconds feel like endless minutes. She shifts her weight, ignoring the life squirming in her belly. Great. No one's home. But then a low 'wuff' and the clicking of claws behind the door gets her attention. Right. They have a dog, she remembers. Crap, this is a bad idea, but now she can't move.

Footsteps pound, startling her. "Coming!" a muffled voice calls, "Archie! Back, back. Sit. Stay. Good dog."

The door swings open and Rachel Fitzpatrick stands before her. She looks almost exactly like she did in the picture on her profile. Her hair is pulled up in a thick sloppy bun, and she's dressed in loose grey sweats covered in paint splotches. She's an artist, the total opposite of Ellis. Warm. Friendly. Loving.

"Hello?" Rachel asks, staring at her quizzically.

Meredith jumps out of her thoughts. She's really doing this. She really… What will Rachel think of her? Not good things, probably–

"Oh my God, Meredith, right? It is you! I was so worried we wouldn't get a chance to meet before– Please, come in, come in, I'm Rachel."

"H-hi."

Rachel's smile is big and white. Gorgeous. "Sorry, I'm a mess," she says. "I've just been painting the nursery. Allan bought the crib yesterday, and I really want to…"

Meredith tunes her out as she looks around. Sunlight streams in from the front window, bathing the room in a golden glow. Adorning the mantle above the fireplace are intimate wedding pictures, and all along the walls are pictures of the couple and other family members, including the dog, posing or doing fun things. The room is crowded with furniture. A cream sofa and loveseat combo outline a thick coffee table. A piano rests in the corner beside the kitchen entrance, and a ragged brown leather recliner sits opposite.

The home smells like roses and home cooked food. Meredith imagines there's something in the oven, like a pot roast or meatloaf.

It's not perfect. Papers and teaching materials clutter the piano and the coffee table; a jacket and gardening gloves rest atop the recliner. On the floor by the fireplace is a big fluffy white dog bed absent a dog. And where is he? Oh. Sniffing her hand. No, it's not perfect, but that's what makes it perfect. It's nothing like the big cold house she was raised in.

Meredith tucks her fingers into her sleeve and takes a few more cautious steps into the living room. "Your house is really nice," she blurts.

"Oh, thanks," Rachel says. "Sorry about the mess, can I take your coat?"

"You still want it?" Meredith interrupts, remembering the reason she came.

Rachel's brow furrows. "Want…?"

"The baby. You still want it, right?" Meredith croaks, feeling stupid for asking. But she has to. Maybe then, the nightmare she's been having will stop, because she has no idea what she will do if Rachel and Allan don't take custody. How could she be a mother? She's barely a person herself.

"Of course."

"And you're sure?"

"Absolutely. Are you… Meredith, are you okay?"

"S-sure. I'm fine. Great." She nods as confidently as she can.

"You're not, though." Rachel places a gentle hand on her back. "Come. Sit down," she ushers her to the couch. "Do you want something to drink? Water?"

Meredith swats Rachel's hand off her back and refuses to sit down. She's fine. "You'll be there, right? When I have the baby. You'll be there?"

The other woman's expression melts into pity for her. Meredith scowls. She doesn't need pity. She needs reassurance.

"Of course, of course. Allan, too." Rachel says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nods. "God, you must be so scared. But as soon as we get that phone call, we're gonna be there. And we will love that baby. We will love him or her so much. Allan and I tried so hard to have one of our own. I had a miscarriage, and it… everything became so clear. When Carol at the adoption agency said you were interested in us as potential parents, we cried so hard. It was an answer to prayer."

Meredith nods again. Trying to believe her. Needing to. "Okay," she says, and turns to leave.

"Um… the baby is okay? Healthy?" Rachel asks.

Meredith stops. Crap. She should've been better at communicating all this info. She should've been better at taking care of the baby. "She–" it's the first time she refers to it other than 'it,' 'fetus,' 'baby,' or 'alien.' It could still be a boy, she doesn't want to know. "Or he– kicks a lot," she offers.

"Yeah?" Rachel's eyes are wide with longing.

"Yeah." Of course, Rachel deserves much more than that. And the baby deserves to meet the woman who will raise her and love her or him, the rest of its life. Meredith steps forward, her hand resting on the side of her belly, where the baby has been kicking the last few hours. She lifts her shirt, a purple satin maternity thing Sadie insisted she wear, and takes Rachel's hand, pressing it against her milky white skin. "Here. That's a foot, I think."

As if it knows, the baby kicks twice, announcing itself to this new presence. Rachel beams, and tears well in her eyes. "Hi baby," Rachel says, "Hiii… I can't wait to meet you."

Meredith gives her another minute. Her lips twitch downward. Rachel is the only person besides the OB she's allowed to touch her this way. She tugs the shirt down. "I have to… I should… I gotta go."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Yeah."

She can't get out fast enough, marching down the wet sidewalk to Sadie's car and flinging the door open. Sadie looks up from her compact, startled. "That was quick."

"Yeah, let's go."

"Everything all right?"

"I guess."

"Feel better?"

Meredith shrugs. She IS relieved. The house is nice. Rachel is nice. No, more than nice, Rachel is wonderful. Her offspring is going to be well taken care of, loved and wanted, and have everything it could ever ask for.

Despite all that, a tight, creeping resentment is stirring in her heart. Is it possible to feel jealous of an unborn baby? This baby is going to get a life so unlike her own… and that should make her happy. It does, actually. But it also reminds her of her own failure and inadaquacies. She'll never be warm, or loving. She's not mother material. She wasn't even girlfriend material.

She's not enough. She'll likely never be.

xxx

"You did the right thing," Derek kisses her temple. "No matter how you felt about it, you did what you knew was best for both of you."

Meredith curls tighter into him, wraps her arm around his stomach as her head rests on his shoulder. "Telling myself that didn't make it hurt any less."

"Mm."

"I knew I couldn't keep her. I was barely taking care of myself, much less my baby. I could've done better for her, I mean, while she was in utero."

"I'm sure you tried your best."

Meredith shakes her head at his assumptions. She knows he's just trying to make her feel better, but the truth was, she did a crappy job. "Derek, I was in denial about so much… I missed appointments, I didn't listen to the doctors, or my body… I was terrified, Derek. I wasn't ready. For any of it.

"It snowed on Thanksgiving. I should've stayed in the apartment. But Sadie… It was a bad day for her. For both of us. I had to pick her up from a party. Everything went to crap after that."

xxx

Meredith pulls out of the driveway of the bawdy frat house and flicks on the headlights. Large snowflakes flutter across the dark sky. She turns the wipers on and looks at Sadie. "You okay?" she asks with a grimace as another contraction twinges through her abdomen.

Sadie giggles, her body flopping with the movement. "I had, I had waaay too much to drink."

"Yeah, you did." Meredith agrees with a smirk. She gets it, she would wanna get drunk too after what happened today. Actually, she'd wanna get smashed after what happened this entire year, but that's not really an option now.

"I just…. I hate him sooo much."

"Ryan?" The guy at the party, Sadie's on and off flame or whatever. A jerk Sadie uses for sex and alcohol.

"Nooooo," Sadie exaggerates the 'o', "Daddy."

"Oh." Right. Of course. The guy who's kicking them out of the apartment in three days. Meredith hates him too. And Ryan. Cuz why not?

"M'srry, death."

"Death?" Meredith squints. She eases the Camaro down the road and flicks the left turn signal. She's not used to the responsiveness of the car, and it almost skids out of the turn, but she quickly rights it.

Sadie clutches the dashboard for support as they turn and pick up speed. "My new nickname fer you iss Death. Cuz yer scary as Death when yer pissed."

"Ahh," she chuckles. Yeah, she kinda lost it on Ryan. She couldn't help it. Being at the party triggered some bad memories. Meredith breathes a sigh. Well, she's out of there now. She'll drop Sadie off, and then see about going to the hospital. She's not sure, but she thinks she's in labour, and it's too early.

"I'm srry I messed up," Sadie continues. "I shoulda told you."

Yeah, she should've been clear about the school thing. But, then again, Sadie did let her stay with her for the last month rent free, so she has no complaints. "It's… it's okay."

"I'll figure it out."

"Yeah."

They drive along for a while. The roads are clear of traffic. Snow day. It's actually kind of nice. Peaceful. They stop at a red light. It's dark and late, and all the smart people have stayed off the road as snow continues to pile on. The engine rumbles and the floor vibrates under their boots while they wait. The light turns green. Meredith hits the gas, but the car doesn't move. She hits it again, only to hear the rear wheels spinning. "Dammit," they must've stopped on a patch of ice. Meredith cranks the steering wheel, hoping she might gain some traction and hits the gas slowly. Just as she does so, another contraction squeezes her uterus. "Ah!" she grunts, more out of surprise than pain, and her foot slams on the gas. The wheels spin, for a second they go nowhere, but then they catapult forward-left-backwards as they fishtail out of control. She grabs the wheel to turn it the other way, but the car skids on the ice with a roar and the only thing she sees is trees as they fly into the ditch.

Bump! Crash, rip, crunch! Smack! The driver's side collides with a tree. Finally, they've stopped.

Everything is still for the longest minute. Her head pounds in time with her heartbeat, but she uncurls herself. At the last minute, realizing she lost control, she'd wrapped her arms around her belly. She had her seatbelt on, and they weren't going very fast so she thinks she's okay. She hopes. Except her stomach hit the steering wheel on the way down and the freaking car doesn't have airbags.

Another cramp hits her. "Ow. Owww…" this one is different from the others. Longer, almost purposeful. Her head hurts, she banged it on the top of the steering wheel. Sadie? She lolls her head to the side. Sadie's gone and the passenger door is wide open. She wasn't wearing her seatbelt, Meredith thinks.

Crap.

Meredith takes a minute to collect herself after the contraction. "Sadie?" she calls. No answer. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. She is not having this baby in a ditch while her friend is passed out or dead. She struggles to undo her seatbelt and turns to open her door, but there's a tree in the way. "Crap. Sadie? Sadie!" Still no answer. Fighting back tears and pain, she scrabbles awkwardly over the middle console and sits in the passenger seat.

She finds her friend lying face up, spread eagle in the snow with horrible gash on the side of her head, making her blonde hair look a shade pink. "Sadie! c'mon, don't be–"

"Death?" Sadie mumbles.

"Oh, thank God," Meredith cries with relief, clutching her stomach.

"That was a horrible, horrible ride on the Merry-go-round."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Meredith wants to go to her, but her body says no.

"Can you please shut up, I'm not gonna die." she snickers. "Die. That's it isn't it? You're Death, and I'm Die. We're a match made in heaven."

"Fuck," Meredith groans. "Shut up."

Dizziness strikes, and she leans into the passenger seat, watching Sadie struggle to sit up in the snow. "What are we… what are we gonna do?" she asks.

Meredith can't think. She wants to vomit. Curl up in a ball and cry. How did this happen? It can't be happening. Not like this. She runs a hand down her strangely hard stomach. Another contraction slams through her, like someone is wringing her insides. "Ugh," she gasps, but it doesn't stop this time. It goes on and on, longer than any of the previous contractions combined. It stops, finally, and then wetness seeps through her underwear and pants, soaking the leather seat. She stares at Sadie breathlessly. "Call 911. I think… I think I'm in labour."

"Shit."

TBC...

A/N: I know, cliffie! But I'm working on it, an update will be up in one or two weeks! Also, there was so much story here, I will be posting a companion piece at some point, going into more detail about Meredith's fight with her mom and how things went while she was at Sadie's. And more... so, stay tuned!

I would love to hear what you think! Please review! Thanks so much!