I really appreciated the feedback I got on the last chapter, so I decided to add a bit more. I'm always open to suggestions on story line or characters or style, positive or negative. Hope you enjoy!

Derek ran his hand along the seam of the couch. The couch. In an office. A therapist's office. In a hospital. In the hospital. He anxiously double checked the lock on the door, to make sure no one would interrupt his session.

"So your chart says you have elected to start on anti-anxiety meds to help your insomnia." Dr. Parker read off a clipboard. Derek hadn't realized how condescending it sounded to have a doctor read about you off a piece of paper to your face, like you were being branded and treated and then released back into the wild.

"Yes. Yes, that's correct." He crossed his right leg over her left. Then his left over his right. Then back again. The seam of the couch was warming under the friction of his hand rubbing it back and forth.

"Have you had any recent traumatic experiences that's might be causing the nightmares and insomnia?" Dr. Parker's questions floated in the air.

Had he drowned? No. But he wish he could've. Instead of her. It would've been easier. Easier for him. But he hadn't. He had been the one in the hallway. The one who caught a glance at her icy blue body as Addison exited the room, who say crouched for what felt like forever until Bailey made him get up and change out of his soaking wet freezing scrubs.

"My, um, my girlfriend," he stammered. "She's had a couple of near death experiences recently. So, um, I think staying awake is a way I cope with that." He watched as Dr. Parker set his chart aside.

"Why do you think staying awake makes you feel better?"

He contemplated this.

"She almost drowned the first time. The first time, anyway. But she came back. And then, I was sleeping, and she was sleeping. It was the night she came home from the hospital. And she had to go back. They said there was still fluid leftover, maybe from the-" He left the sentence unfinished, floating.

"So you feel as staying awake will keep that from happening again?"

Dr. Parker asked sincerely.

"No. I mean, I know it won't. I'm a surgeon. I know staying awake won't help her. It won't help anyone."

He uncrossed his legs. Then recrossed them. Right over left. Left over right. Again.

"You're a surgeon."

"Yes. A brain surgeon. So I know logically there's no point. But I know that the anxiety medicine could turn off the nerve signals sent from the-"

Dr. Parker cut him off.

"Let's keep this simple. You don't sleep because you want to keep her safe."

"Well, I know that- well, yeah, I guess I do."

"So you feel vulnerable when falling asleep?"

Derek thought for a moment. Vulnerable. He thought about his surgery techniques. How he never left an artery vulnerable. Vulnerable to damage. Vulnerable to being destroyed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I feel vulnerable."

"Vulnerable to what?" Uncross, left over right. Uncross again.

"I- Vulnerable to- her, I suppose. I feel vulnerable to feeling like I was too late, to feeling scared to lose her again. So I stay awake."

Dr. Parker nodded.

"Good. So now you've identified what the emotion and cause that's keeping you awake is. Let's look at it this way; when your girlfriend was almost drowned, did you feel guilty? Like you could've done something more?"

The seam of the couch was almost separate from the fabric now. Derek's feet lay flat on the floor.

"Yes. I thought I should've noticed she was gone sooner. I felt I should've made her open up to me, about how the things her mother said made her feel, I felt like I should've made her breathe in the ambulance. Like I should've made her better."

Cross again, left over right. Right over left.

"It sounds like you feel as if you should have 'made' your girlfriend do a lot of things that could've avoided the situation, the danger."

"Yes. Yes, I think I should've made her-"

"From what I hear, Derek, she doesn't sound like someone who can be 'made' to do anything."

Derek smiled. Meredith couldn't be made to wear a life jacket in the middle of the ocean if she didn't want to. He thought about the night when he told her about Mark and Addison. He thought about how he should've made her stay. How he could've made her feel better, to stop her from getting hurt.

"No, she's not exactly- tame. I can't make her do anything."

Dr. Parker removed her glasses, setting them down on his chart.

"Ah, see? You can't make her do anything. You can't make her healthy. You can't make her avoid danger altogether. You can't control her."

Uncross. Still. Finally still.

"No. No, I can't."

Pause. Dr. Parker watched as his hands and feet remained still for the longest time throughout his entire session.

"Derek, I'm going to prescribe you some anti-anxiety medication to help you sleep. But I want you to continue your sessions with me. I think there is a deeper issue here than what we have reached today."

Derek tried to convince himself as he walked out of the office that the white paper bag was not his own prescription. It was for a patient. No, in fact, it wasn't anything medical. It was one of Izzie's muffins. It was cheesecake. It was the Judy Doll heads Bailey had found inside a patient. Anything but his own prescription. He got into his car, his hands lingering on the smooth leather on the steering wheel. He crossed his legs. His foot caught on a piece of paper. It was a note.

Derek,

I hope you have a good morning. I'm sorry for yelling at you for pulling me out of the bath. Hope you're wearing all your 'shining whatever' tonight. Dinner?

Meredith

He smiled. It was from before the ferry boat crash. It had been before the sleepless nights, before the blood. It was from when everything was easy. Simple.

Uncross. Breathe. Still. Be still.