I'm absolutely overwhelmed. Here's why:

1) The outpouring of kind words after Hurricane Sandy. I hope this is untrue, but I'm sure many of you have experienced disasters where you live. Besides the attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, I have never experienced such an event. We're doing well here and things are looking up, but on a personal note, I want to thank you all so much for you kind, kind words!

2) The love for the last chapter. So many lovely, long reviews. As always, your reviews push me to want to update more often, so thank you.

3) This story is over. Almost. So I lied to you a few weeks back when I said there were two more updates. Two has become one (yeah Spice Girls reference!). After rethinking some, I have figured this story only needs one more chapter (mostly because I love how I ended this chapter). Anywho, now you have a choice to make. Do you want:

A) an epilogue set sometime in the future

B) something that directly follows this update, i.e. Meredith still 17 and Derek still 21

You choose!

Sorry for the longest AN ever; I'm just super excited!

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate. xo

(Ignore my terrible knowledge of law. I really need to watch more Law & Order.)

My mom fusses with my tie for the fifteenth time since she met me at my apartment an hour ago. I thought it was going to be a one-time thing; she noticed I tied it wrong and fixed it. But it seems like a tick for her. As if my tie alone will inspire the judge to drop the charges against me. She adjusted my tie twice more before we left my apartment for the court house, and now, as my dad paces before the double doors to the courtroom, Mom reaches for my tie for the sixteenth time.

I pull back, stopping her hands in the air. "Mom, stop."

She's bewildered. I can see in her eyes the fear; she truly believes I'm about to be sentenced to jail time.

Maybe I'm too relaxed, but I no longer fear a jail sentence. At the end of the day, every moment with Meredith was worth it.

I can't help buy search for her among the growing crowd. The courthouse has a least ten courtrooms, but each one holds dozens of people outside waiting for outcomes—good, bad, life-altering. But unlike those chewing their nails to the root and pacing alongside my father, I feverishly look around for her familiar blond halo of hair. I even look for Ellis, the older version of Meredith herself, but it's hopeless. Ellis said she'd talk to Meredith about testifying, but at the end of the day, Meredith is still seventeen and her mom still calls the shots.

I'm also not worried because I'm prepared.

Gary—Mr. Marshall as Dad insists on me calling him—has been working diligently. He claims there is a very small chance I'll actually be sentenced to prison time. I'm guilty, that's for sure—I even admitted it in my affidavit—but the circumstances leave much to be discussed and the judge will probably see me as a Good Samaritan who happened to get too involved, rather than a felon. Or at least, that's the hope.

Jail may be the last place on earth I'd ever want to me. I guess no one really wants to end up behind bars, but the thought of my medical career and any subsequent achievements I may tuck under my belt being taken away from me before I even begin, is just wildly depressing. I could never practice medicine without a stigma following me around like a rain cloud. For the rest of my life, whether I win a Harper Avery, or study under Ellis Grey herself, I will always be that guy—the one who kept a runaway in his home when everyone else would have turned her away.

I sit down across from the courtroom for my hearing and study those around me. It's easy to spot the defendants—most of us look a shade lighter than we should. A girl just ten feet from me looks practically white and her eyes are glazed, probably in fear. I wonder what she did. She looks nice—dressed in a black skirt and a yellow top, bumble bee-esque—but she is so nervous. You can practically see it in the root of her hair. I think about telling her to just breathe, but the courtroom door opens behind her and she's led in by a daft-looking man in a green suit. I hope that's not her lawyer.

Speaking of lawyers, Gary Marshall trudges down the hallway looking sharp in a dark grey suit. We actually match, right down to our red ties. He greets my father with a handshake and my mother with a kiss on the cheek. I stand, offering him my hand.

"Derek, looking good. Clean. Young. All good things."

I've come to learn in the last week, that the most important thing in any proceeding is how to hold yourself. Gary Marshall is a man of distinction. His face is clean-shaven and his fingernails are clean. He walks with his shoulders rolled back and his head held high, and he'll tell you that's precisely why he wins virtually every time.

"I've spoken to a few of my colleagues, ones who went before Judge Campbell earlier this morning, and they say she's in a mood. We'll need to play this right."

Dad nods seriously, "How should this go?"

Gary fiddles with a ring on his right hand; I wonder if he's nervous.

"Derek, as we discussed, you say nothing. If they ask for your plea, give it, and if you're addressed directly, be clinical about it. You should be good about that. No emotions. No weakness. I'll do all the talking. Solemn, okay?"

I nod. "Got it."

"What if the prosecutor starts grilling Derek?" Mom worries.

"Derek's not to be questioned by the prosecutor. He's handed in his affidavit to the court, so the only reason for this hearing is for sentencing."

"But don't they need to hear from him? What if they don't believe him?" Mom continues.

I touch her shoulder. "Mom, it's okay."

"Derek's affidavit is his statement. The prosecutor's sole goal is to dig deep and uncover the truth; we already did that by submitting his testimony to the court. He's already admitted to harboring Miss Grey, so there's nothing more to question."

Mom doesn't seem convinced.

Gary turns to me. "How are you feeling?"

I smile, "Good. I'll be fine," I say more for Mom and Dad than me.

"That's the spirit," Gary claps me on my back. "Alright, it's just about time. Use the bathroom if you need, this might be a long day."

I excuse myself and walk down the hallway, thankful Gary and Dad stay behind with Mom. I'm confident and collected, but my stomach is turning to knots by the minute. I'm starting to sweat beneath my jacket and I can feel my resolve slipping.

The court bathroom is surprisingly disgusting, but even so, I lock myself into one of the two stalls. I drop onto the seat and rest my eyes against my palms. I rub the stress from my temples and take deep breaths. They won't give me prison time. I'm only twenty-one and I've never done anything wrong before. I'm a med student with straight As and I'm going to save people's lives one day. Maybe even the judge's life. No, they won't convict someone like me.

I exit the stall to wash my hands and clean my face. I stare at myself in the mirror. Six months ago, everything was different. I went to school, I went out with Mark, I went out with women—went, went, went. But now I'm here; I'm staying. Everything has changed since that night on Perry Street, when I heard Meredith scream. Nothing was about me that night; nothing was about how I'd benefit from saving her. All that mattered was keeping her away from him. Even if I'm convicted today, I was able to do this for her; I was able to save her from more hurt.

And it's all worth it. Meredith is worth it.

When I return to my parents and Gary, the hearing before mine is letting out. I watch people shuffling out, some happy, some crying.

"What happened?" I ask Gary.

"Misdemeanor manslaughter. He got eight years."

My stomach turns.

Gary nods, "It'll be fine. That guy deserved it. He was guilty."

So am I.

We wait for fifteen minutes, then twenty, then thirty, forty, and finally the bailiff opens the doors. "The City of New York versus Derek Shepherd," he calls.

Showtime.

The court fills up quickly. Locals bear witness to the proceedings, sitting and staring at me before the judge enters. They're judging me. By now, they know my case—young man harbors runaway teen girl for months. They think they know what happened; I'm sure many of them wonder how long it took for us to have sex. But they don't know how much it all meant.

I just wish I could see Meredith for one second before the judge enters.

My wish will not be granted.

A side door opens and a severe-looking blond woman in black robes steps out and ascends into her podium. Judge Campbell is not someone to fuck with. She is tall and proud and the look on her face alone tells me it's been a long time since she's taken a decent vacation. It's not even noon yet, and she's already tired of the bullshit drama of each case. Her dark eyes narrow as she appraises the room. We all stand in her honor as the bailiff requires, but as soon as she sits, so does the rest of the court.

"Today is Wednesday, September 7th in the year 2011 and this hearing of case number 187583 on the calendar is called to order. The City of New York versus Derek Shepherd in the case of harboring an underage runaway in his home. Honorable Judge Candace Campbell presiding."

The bailiff steps away. There's no one between Judge Campbell and I now.

"Right," she begins, opens a folder, and looks down her nose at me. "Derek Shepherd, you are accused of harboring a minor in your home. Do you understand the charges?"

"Yes Your Honor," I say, as practiced with Gary.

"Do you understanding harboring a runaway, particularly a minor, is a federal offense and can warrant up to a year in prison?"

"Yes Your Honor."

Judge Campbell removes her black-rimmed glasses and set them onto the podium. "Did you understand the implications of such an act when you took the minor into your home Mr. Shepherd?"

I'm about to answer yes, when Gary interrupts, "Your Honor, I'd like to say on behalf of my client, that—"

"Mr. Marshall, I'd appreciate it if you'd let your client answer for himself. He's perfectly capable." She turns back to me, "Mr. Shepherd?"

"Yes Your Honor, I knew the implications."

"Yet you took her in anyway."

"Yes Your Honor."

Judge Campbell returns her glasses to her nose. "Mr. Allen, could you please clarify when you decided to take action against the defendant?"

"Your Honor, we became aware of Mr. Shepherd's deal with the young lady on the 31st of August of this year. A deputy was dispatched to the Grey household on the 2nd of September to make Mrs. Grey aware of her daughter's whereabouts, and we arrested Mr. Shepherd on the 5th of that month."

"Why did Mrs. Grey not press charges?"

The prosecutor, who I recognize as District Attorney Kevin Allen, shifts his weight. "Mrs. Grey saw it unnecessary to become wrapped up in a messy legal suit."

"I see." Judge Campbell returns to me. "Mr. Shepherd, in your affidavit, you plead guilty to the charge of harboring a runaway. Is that correct?"

"Yes Your Honor."

"Why did you keep Miss Grey in your home for," she looks down, "a total of nearly two months? Why not call the police to pick Miss Grey up?"

I remember Meredith's lies and how at the time, the only solution was for her to stay with me. If she hadn't, she would have been returned to Ellis's care, and for all I knew at the time, she'd be returning to a toxic and abusive situation. But I can't tell the courts that, because for all they know, Meredith is young and made a bad decision, and is not a liar.

I clear my throat, "Your Honor, I believed, at the time, that Miss Grey would be better suited away from her mother."

"That is not your call, Mr. Shepherd," she admonishes.

"I know, Your Honor."

"Would you do it all over again, Mr. Shepherd, if the moment presented itself?"

I think for just a moment and nod, "Yes Your Honor."

Gary makes a sound and I realize I've just signed my own prison sentence. I'm not apologetic. In fact, I seem happy about the whole thing, at least that's what Judge Campbell is probably thinking. I'd do it all over again, meaning I believe in what I did.

I'm a goner.

"You know, I see many runaway cases in my courtroom. Children who are severely abused, so they run. Young women who find themselves pregnant and unwanted at home. Couples—modern day Romeo and Juliets. But it's rare for me to come across a case of a young woman, who seemingly has it all—money, a stable household, friends—and throws it all away to run. It makes me pause and consider what really might have been going on at home. But then it makes me consider the young woman and her mental stability."

I feel something inside me snap. She can't seriously be considering Meredith to be mentally incapable.

"Even so, Mr. Shepherd, I find it curious that you chose to take this woman in. After all, you are wealthy and already very successful in your college career. It's strange that the two of you chose this fate for yourselves. So it bodes the question where your feelings lie. And, I can tell by the look on your face, how you feel about Miss Grey."

I try to remain impassive.

Judge Campbell holds up a piece of paper. "And because of this letter, I know how Miss Grey feels."

My stomach hits my shoes. I lean forward, almost as if I'll be able to grab the letter.

"Three days ago, I received this letter in the mail. On the back, she wrote, 'Please read before Derek Shepherd's court hearing. Please.' Obviously, I was curious, so I did. Miss Grey has given me permission to read this letter aloud, so here it goes:

"Dear Honorable Judge Campbell,

Thank you for taking your time out to read this letter. I'm sure you're a very busy woman and I don't want to waste your time, so I greatly appreciate your attention to this matter.

As I'm sure you're aware, Derek Shepherd will be in your courtroom Wednesday morning for harboring a runaway. I'm the runaway. I'm back with my mom now, but Derek remains charged with helping me. I say 'helping me' because that's exactly what he did. I needed someone and Derek stepped up to the plate. He wasn't the only one either. Other people helped me along the way; are you going to convict them as well? I could give you names. I mean no disrespect Judge Campbell, but I think it's sort of presumptuous to pick Derek out in the crowd, when there were a whole slew of people who helped me.

I needed help the day Derek found me. But afterwards, coming to stay with him, that was all me. I was scared. New York is a big city, and I wasn't prepared. Derek was kind, even after he found out I lied to him.

You see, I wrote a letter much like this last week. But to Derek. There were things I needed him to know. I won't go into the sorted details, but I can assure you, I lied to Derek—creating a monster out of my life—and his only response was to keep my safe from that life. With the knowledge I gave him, he couldn't go to the police, because I would be returned home. So he kept me safe.

What I'm trying to say Your Honor, is please don't convict Derek. He's a wonderful person and I can't think of not being able to spend time with him for a year.

Please.

All my best,

Meredith Grey"

A pin could drop in the courtroom and the sound would reverberate against the plaster walls. I stare at Judge Campbell as she refolds the letter and hands it to the bailiff. He walks towards me and hands me the paper. I instantly recognize Meredith's scratchy handwriting and re-read every word she just said. Everyone just sits in silence. As I near the bottom, I read a line the Judge left out:

P.S. I love you, Derek.

I stare at Judge Campbell, keeping the letter tight in my hands.

"As you can see the ultimate plaintiff in all of this, the young woman who ran away, is asking for a pardon. Ironically, much like her daughter, Dr. Ellis Grey wrote to me as well. Her letter was much shorter, but gets the point across:

"Judge Campbell,

I find it curious that my daughter and I, the true plaintiffs in the City of New York versus Derek Shepherd, are not pressing charges, yet the city continues to ruin the soon-to-be remarkable future of such a promising young man as Mr. Shepherd.

Sincerely,

Ellis Grey"

The bailiff also delivers me this letter. Ellis has written nothing more, but her words resonate through the courtroom.

"Mr. Allen, do you have a response to Dr. Grey's letter?"

"The defendant has already pled guilty. He is guilty, as he said before this entire room, so whether or not the Greys have pressed charges are of no consequence. Derek Shepherd is guilty."

"Mr. Allen, do you really need to point your finger toward guilt three times in one statement? Sheesh," she exclaims. "I wasn't asking you if Mr. Shepherd was guilty or not, I was asking for a response to what Dr. Grey said. Do you need me to read it again?"

Mr. Allen shakes his head, "No Your Honor." He pauses. "The truth of the matter is we're pressing charges because Mr. Shepherd broke the law and that is what we do. We promote following the law."

"So Mr. Shepherd's case is in my courtroom today because you need to prove a point?"

"No Your Honor. His case is in your courtroom today because it's the right thing to do."

Judge Campbell nods, shuffles some pages, and sighs. "Even before I took on this hearing, I knew how I'd rule. As soon as I read Mr. Shepherd's affidavit, I realized he was a good kid from a good family. But good kids often do stupid things and I find the courts fail when really providing a suitable punishment for the law-breakers. But then, of course right when I think I have everything figured out, I hear from the Greys. I don't often take plea letters into consideration, but receiving two was quite a change, especially a mother and daughter pair. These letters further solidified my already founded decision.

Before I make my ruling, is there anything you'd like to say Mr. Allen?"

"I just ask that you consider the plea Mr. Shepherd made and rule according to the defendant's affidavit."

"And you Mr. Marshall? Mr. Shepherd?"

"Thank you, Your Honor, and I'm sure you will surely rule as fairly as possible," Gary says.

All eyes turn to me. I take a breath and try to muster up something profound. Instead, I say, "I think what I did was best for Meredith at the time."

Gary sighs, again, and if I hadn't lost it ten minutes ago, I have now.

"Thank you," Judge Campbell says. "Mr. Shepherd, after careful consideration of your affidavit, the city's charges, and the letters by both Miss and Mrs. Grey, I hereby rule in the defenses favor. Mr. Shepherd, you will be scrubbed of all charges and this hearing is adjourned. Just don't do it again, alright Derek?"

It feels like water is rushing past my ears, but I manage to make out Gary thanking the judge and turning to shake hands with Mr. Allen. Hands grab my shoulders—my mother's—as she rushes to my side and throws her arms around me. My father claps me on my back, but none of it feels quite real. I watch as Judge Campbell stands and walks back to the side door. At the last moment, she turns to me, breaks into a smile and nods toward me. I finally feel relieve.

I hug my mom back and laugh out loud. I realize I've been holding my breath for days and just now I can finally breathe.

Ellis Grey walks into my field of vision, causing me to pull away from my mother. My parents turn and both greet Meredith's mom. She nods a hello and turns back to me. "I'm glad you were acquitted."

"Why did you write that letter?"

"Solace," she says quietly and nods toward the door. "I want her to stay with me even after she turns eighteen. She can move in with you when she heads off to college, if you're so inclined. You'll be allowed complete access as long as her schoolwork doesn't suffer. Or yours. We need good doctors, so you're not to fail. She won't be staying over with you, but I'll allow late nights as long as you accompany her home. Eleven during the week and one during the weekend. She's still my daughter, Derek."

I smile. "Yes, of course."

"Well…" Ellis motions to the door.

I turn and standing there in a white dress, her hair cascading over her shoulders, is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I smile wide, my vision narrowing on her only.

Meredith smiles back at me and walks down the aisle towards me.

We're free.