So first of all, thank you all for the great reviews again. I'm glad you enjoyed Meredith & Derek's ferry ride, and I hadn't really realized that they never shared that on the show. Funny how that was missed there, that almost seems like sacrilege!

Now this chapter, I wasn't entirely happy about...somehow it turned out different than I expcted in some ways. I didn't really mean to turn this into an action/adventrue type story...maybe I've been watching too many cop shows on TV! At any rate, I mean to get past the intrigue part quickly, and back to more basic MerDer hotness.

Chapter 15
Falling to Pieces

Derek continued to look steadily at the man who had been more than a mentor for many years and he felt equal parts shock and disgust. He was also aware of Meredith's presence behind him, and he made himself focus on keeping calm in order to keep her safe.

"Richard? Aren't you going to say something? I don't care about the painting. It's caused more than enough problems already." Derek held the painting in one hand. "If you needed some money, you could have just asked me. I would have helped you in a heartbeat. Gareth didn't have to die over this."

"Now what makes you think I had anything to do with Gareth's death?" Richard asked. "Just because I want the painting..."

"Don't lie to me. Who else would he have been working for that he trusted? I don't know what kind of sick game you played to get to me, but I know you took advantage of him. I trusted you and you've been manipulating me to get what you want."

"I don't have to manipulate you, Derek. Don't forget I trained you, I taught you everything you know. I can predict what you're going to do even before you know it yourself." Richard advanced a few steps, gun still held steadily at Derek. "Now tell that pretty girlfriend of yours to stop hiding and come here."

"Leave Meredith out of this, she doesn't need to be part of this," Derek said quietly. "This is obviously between you and me, Richard."

"Ah, but she fell right into the middle of this," Richard said smoothly, walking past Derek to yank the curtains aside. Meredith tried to shove the phone in her pocket quickly, but he caught the movement and grabbed it out of her hands. "Ms. Grey, you disappointed me. I thought we had a deal."

"You thought wrong," she replied evenly, but her heart was skittering wildly as he dragged her towards Derek.

Richard shook his head, pocketing her cell phone. "I hope you haven't done something stupid like try to call the cops. That could get messy for all of us. But then, I intend to be out of here soon, and leave you both for the authorities to find, guilty of breaking and entering, attempted robbery, and of course murder."

"The evidence about Gareth is pretty circumstantial," Derek pointed out, sliding his free arm around Meredith to hold her close.

Richard nodded. "True enough, but I wasn't talking about Gareth. Ms Grey here will be the victim, with you holding the murder weapon. Murder/suicide is always so tragic, don't you think?"

"Damnit, Richard, what did I ever do to you?" Derek demanded, trying to stall for time.

"It's all about you, isn't it? You think you have it all, don't you?"

"I worked hard to get where I am, you know that. Nothing was ever handed to me."

"You would've been in jail as a young offender if it weren't for me! I was the one that recognized what you were capable of or you would just be another petty thief," Richard scowled, waving the gun towards them angrily.

"So you want recognition for that? Fine, I agree with you, I've never denied the fact you were the one who helped me. You profited quite well from what I brought you, as I recall. But why did you bring Gareth into this scheme?"

"Because he was more desperate for cash, and you weren't willing to hand over anything. You turned your back on the only family you had left, Derek. Your mother would have been so disappointed."

"I was trying to help him make something of himself, not just drift through life," Derek sighed. "But I'm sure you don't understand that."

"Oh, I understand, Derek. Unfortunately, Gareth was weak. He jumped at the chance I offered him, and Callie was there to sweeten the deal so to speak. But enough talking, just give me the damn painting."

Meredith squeezed her eyes shut, certain that they weren't going to get out of this. Derek's grip on her relaxed for a moment, pushing her behind him before he dove at Richard, knocking the other man to the floor. For a moment, they grappled for the gun, as she watched in horror, frozen to the spot. The canvas bag Derek had been holding rolled away unnoticed in the fight, and she quickly managed to gather her wits and retrieve it. As they continued to scuffle, she edged towards where she had spotted some piles of brown wrapping paper earlier. With only moments to spare, she stashed the painting beneath them, and stuffed a roll of paper into the bag itself.

As she turned around, she saw Richard raising the gun again, while Derek wiped the sweat out of his eyes. Both men were breathing heavily, blood trickling from the corner of Derek's mouth as he froze in place. She held up the bag. "Here! This is what you want, take it!" She threw it towards him, and his attention wavered between the bag and Derek. She thought for sure Richard would give up the fight at that point, but he let the bag fall at his feet.

"Thank you Ms Grey," he said, bringing the butt of his gun down against Derek's temple quickly. "Now, come over here and pick that up for me."

Meredith bit back a whimper, seeing Derek slumped on the floor. "Did you kill him?"

"No, he'll just have a bad headache when he wakes up."

"Oh thank god…" Meredith dropped to her knees, and felt for his pulse.

"Now as for you, my dear…" he started to say, when they both heard the faint sound of police sirens. "Time to leave. I think I'll take you with me, just a little extra insurance."

Derek shook his head groggily, before the sharp scent of smelling salts hit him and he found himself looking into Mark Sloan's concerned face. He blinked and looked again, wondering if he was seeing things. "What the hell...?" he muttered, trying to get to his feet.

"Hey, easy man, you were out cold," Mark said, putting a hand on Derek's shoulder.

"Meredith...where is she?"

"That's what I'd like to know. You're the only person here, but what the hell happened? Looks like you were in a helluva fight."

"Yeah..." Derek rubbed his temple, feeling the lump forming there. "What are you doing here?"

"Meredith texted me, asked me get Hunt but I couldn't get through to him direct. I left a message but I figured maybe I could help." Mark looked around again, whistling at the paintings on the wall. "Impressive stuff."

Derek struggled to get to his feet again, and this time Mark helped him stand. "Shit, Richard must've taken her."

"What? That guy we met at the ball, your friend?"

"Not a friend," Derek said coldly. "He's been framing me for Gareth's murder, it's a long story, Sloan."

"And he's got Meredith now?"

"Looks like it. We need to get out of here. There's been too much going on here tonight, damnit."

"You look like hell. What was Meredith doing here?"

"Trying to help, but we don't have time to talk about it," Derek frowned, looking around. The canvas bag was gone, and he could only assume that Richard had it, along with the painting.

"If she's hurt..." Mark started to say, but Derek cut him off.

"Don't! I know this is on me, Sloan. You have no idea how I feel right now!" Derek shouted, shoving Mark aside. "I'll find her, and I'll make Richard pay for whatever he's done. If you want to help me, fine, if not get the hell out of my way!" He stopped in his tracks, staring at the pile of papers and canvases in the corner where something caught his eye. "Damnit, Meredith, what did you do?"

In the struggle, he'd lost track of whatever Meredith was doing, and she was obviously hiding the painting. He yanked it out of the pile and shook his head. "Shit that means Richard hasn't got it, and once he figures that out he's going to use her for leverage..."

"Painting? Leverage...?" Mark asked, trying to understand, as Derek brushed by him. "Wait..."

"I'm not waiting..." Derek kept going, ignoring the headache throbbing in his temple. "Just follow me, and don't ask any questions right now. We need to leave here and make sure we don't get caught. The last thing we need is for Hunt to show up and arrest us."

"Oh crap," Mark muttered, but he hurried after Derek, keeping his mouth shut. They just made it outside, after Derek reset the alarm when they heard sirens approaching.

"Let's go. Stay close and we'll be gone before Hunt gets here."

"Do I want to know how you're obviously an expert at this?" Mark hissed, trying to keep up as Derek seemed to melt into the shadows. Obviously he wasn't going to get an answer to that question, at least not right now.

Callie looked up as someone pounded on the back door of her shop, and she swore in irritation. She was working on a copy of a Degas for one of her clients, trying to keep her mind occupied. She stuck the paintbrush behind her ear, and wiped her hands as she went to peer out the peephole. "What the hell…?" she muttered, undoing the locks quickly. "Richard? What are you doing with her?"

"Insurance, Callie," he said, pushing past her with Meredith in tow. "Here's the Monet, you can get started on the forgery now."

She caught the bag, hesitating before opening it. Part of her just wanted to throw it back at him and tell him to find another forger. "Were you in a fight? You should put some ice on that bruise..."

"Don't worry about it."

"You fought with Derek, didn't you? Is he dead too?"

"Not yet, but he might wish he was once the police get a hold of him."

Meredith tried to break away from him. "You won't get away with any of this. Derek knows what you did…"

"And he'd be a fool to tell anyone. His past would come to light, he'd go to jail for all of his past thievery. I'm sure Det. Hunt will be very pleased to discover him there, it was good of you to take care of that detail for me. Now just sit down and keep your mouth shut." He pushed her towards the chair, and used a length of rag to tie her hands behind her back, before looking at Callie again. "All right, open that up, I want to see it up close."

Meredith bit her lip, suddenly apprehensive about what was going to happen when the reality of the switch came to light. But it was a little too late to be worried about that, she just hadn't counted on the fact she was going to be present for the reveal. Her thoughts flashed to Derek, and she hoped that he was really all right; she wasn't an expert but the knock to his head looked pretty bad.

Callie opened the bag, and pulled out the brown paper. "Richard, there's no painting in here..."

"What?" He took the bag and shook it, as if that would make something appear. When nothing else came out, he spun around to glare at Meredith. "Where the hell is my painting?"

Derek slid behind the steering wheel of the rental car, and Mark quickly dropped into the passenger seat. "Where the hell do we go from here?" Mark asked sharply. "And what the hell is going on?"

Without speaking, Derek put the car in gear and drove away from the curb slowly.

"Not in a hurry, are we?" Mark asked, looking back at the police cars coming up the street.

"Only if we want to draw attention to ourselves. Trust me; I know what I'm doing."

"Seriously? Like you knew what you were doing out cold? And you knew what you were doing when Meredith was taken?" Mark snapped. "Forgive me if I don't believe you!"

Derek's jaw tightened. "I was blindsided. It won't happen again."

Before Mark could say anything else, Derek's cell phone rang and he grabbed it quickly, seeing her name on the display. "Meredith!"

"Ah, I'm afraid not Derek," Richard answered. "I assume since you are answering your phone that you're not in police custody?"

"Good guess. Where is Meredith?"

"She's with me, but she's interfered with my plans. I'm sure you realize what she's done, and you have the Monet in your possession now?"

"Yes, damnit."

"Good, then we can do a trade. Bring me the painting and you can take your girlfriend home with you. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes, you know damn well we do. Where are you?"

"I'm at Callie's shop; I believe you know where that is."

"Yes, I do. I'll be there as fast as I can." He ended the call and tossed the phone aside, and glanced at Mark. "Where's your car? I'll drop you off."

"There's no way I'm letting you do this without me." Mark crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at Derek. "Meredith is my friend, whatever happens I'm not backing out of this."

Derek clenched the steering wheel tightly. "I don't have time to play alpha male games with you, Sloan. I didn't like you before and the feeling isn't changing."

"Hey, don't forget who helped you out back there, pal. You're not exactly on my buddy list either, but Meredith seems to like you, so let's just deal with it."

They drove the rest of the way in silence, as Derek sped through the late night deserted streets. He was consumed with mental images of Meredith in trouble, fearing what they would find once they got to Callie's shop. The building was dark when they pulled up outside, but once they made their way around the back, he could see a sliver of light through the closed venetian blinds at the windows. He stopped, and rubbed his temple carefully. The headache seemed to be intensifying, but he forced himself to ignore the pain.

"Are you going to be able to handle this?" Mark asked. "You might have a concussion."

"I'm all right. You should wait outside, they don't know you're with me, and that could be an advantage if things get out of hand. Don't do anything stupid." Derek didn't wait for a response, just knocked sharply on the door and then pulled it open. For a moment, he paused, realizing that he should have been more careful but he was too focused on getting to Meredith. She was sitting on a chair in the middle of the crowded storage room, hands tied behind her back, and a scarf tied around her mouth.

"Meredith..."

"Don't move," Richard warned him, the barrel of the gun making contact with Derek's back.

Derek froze in place, making eye contact with Meredith, hoping he could reassure her that he would do everything he could to keep her safe. "Look, I'm here. Just take the painting, and let Meredith go. I'll even stay here in her place." At this comment, Meredith raised her eyebrows in alarm.

Richard nudged the gun a little harder into Derek's back, forcing him forward. "I can see you're quite taken with Ms Grey. I really didn't believe you had it in you to love anyone. You've had such a string of women in your life, after all."

"Are we here to do this deal, or give me advice on romance?" Derek asked sarcastically. The comment about loving Meredith took him off guard, but he kept his expression neutral.

"By all means, let's do this deal," Richard agreed. "You've always been able to see your way clear, if nothing else."

Derek nodded. Up until now, at least, seeing his way had been straightforward, but now that Meredith had entered his life it wasn't that simple. Still he needed to keep a level head, he could deal with emotions later. "The painting is here..." he said, patting his jacket, "let me pull it out. I don't have any weapons, all right?"

"I know all the moves, Derek. I'll take it from you, if you don't mind." Richard reached for the painting, just as Callie came up behind him. She raised her hand and struck the back of his head with a small statue. Richard slumped to the floor and Derek turned to look at Callie in surprise.

"I thought you were part of his scheme..." he said, raising one eyebrow. "But thank you..."

Callie shrugged. "I just couldn't go through with more crap. I was afraid everyone would end up dead. I didn't sign up for that."

Derek hurried over to Meredith, and quickly undid her hands and pulled the scarf away from her mouth. "Are you all right?" He searched her face for any kind of expression of pain, or fear, but she managed a smile.

"It's been more than I anticipated tonight, but yeah...I'm okay," she replied, putting her arms around his neck. "What about you? You had a pretty bad crack on the head." Her fingers touched him gently.

"I'm okay,.." he said, but suddenly everything seemed to spin crazily, and he fought to keep from falling. "Meredith..."

"Derek, what...?" She clutched his arms, just as Mark burst through the door. "Mark, call 9-1-1, I think he's losing consciousness..." She cradled Derek against her, smoothing his hair gently. "It's all right, you're all right, Derek, do you hear me? Don't you dare die on me..."

He lifted his head, as sharp pain knifed behind his eyes. "I'm not...dying. I...love...you..."

Then he fell against her, and everything went black.