I recieved a request from a user called Rue to write something based in season 1 where Meredith and Derek fall in love as usual, but with a twist, which I won't spoil here.

I'm currently doing another rewatch (my 4th, I believe) and have been in an early grey's mood, so this request was made at a great time.

Hope you enjoy! :)

Meredith Grey's first day of work was going...okay, she supposed. She hadn't embarrassed herself yet infront of her strict resident, she hadn't killed anyone, and she hadn't accidently slept with another doctor without realizing who they were. She had a recurring dream about that, but, luckily, she'd spent the night alone, just in case her dream was predicting the future.

"Hey- so, uh- Katie's parents have questions. Do I talk to them or do I ask Burke?"

Bailey shook her head. "No. Burke's off the case. Katie's case belongs to the new attending now-" She paused and gestured down the hall. "-he's over there."

"Right." She agreed without even looking down the hall. "Thanks."

Bailey left without a wish of goodbye, or a 'no problem', something Meredith had learnt that she wouldn't be receiving after knowing the woman for only a few mere hours. Her resident was...interesting, to say the least.

As her superior left, she spun back around to analyse the hallway, wishing she had payed more attention to Bailey's gesture. The only person who wasn't moving was a man sat cross-legged on a gurney, chart on his lap, so she hoped it was him. Otherwise, the man she was looking for was on the move and she'd be looking for him for an awfully long time. She swallowed, and approached him. "Um- hello?"

"Hi." He greeted as he looked up with a smile.

"Dr Shepherd?"

"That would be me." He agreed. "And you are?"

She breathed a mental sigh of relief. "I have a case for you. Katie Bryce. She keeps having seizures. Oh- and I'm Meredith- uh, Dr Grey."

"Does Katie have any history of epilepsy, Dr Grey?"

"No history, nor obvious reasons."

"Obvious reasons being?" He pressed.

"Oh- No trauma, clean head CT. And they're grand mal."

"How many?" He asked, gesturing that he wanted the chart she was holding.

She handed it over. "Four."

"When did they start?" He asked as he chucked the chart he was working on next to him on gurney, and started flicking through the new one.

"Last night."

"She's had four grand-mal seizures in what- twelve hours, with absolutely no history and no trauma?" He summarized as he lifted her head CT to the light. There was no bleed or tumour, his intern was at least smart enough to figure that out. Although it sounded basic, he knew interns had some peculiar ideas sometimes.

"Yeah. Basically." She agreed.

"Okay. I'll-"

Her pager buzzed, and she lifted it to her eyeline to read 9-1-1, 2412. "God- that's Katie. She's probably having another seizure."

"Run then!" He said, gesturing down the hall as she stood still, staring at him.

"You're not coming?" She asked. She was pretty sure she wasn't the only one who was supposed to be running around the hospital.

"Just go, Dr Grey."

She sighed, and ran.

"Dr Shepherd is an ass." Meredith sighed as she trudged out of her patient's room, and found her new friend stood by the nurses' station.

"Who's Dr Shepherd?" Cristina inquired.

"Head of neuro. We were literally talking and my pager went for his patient, and he just sat there. He made me run and deal with it. I thought, fine, he'll turn up later, and I haven't seen him since."

"I'm pretty sure neurosurgeons are supposed to be the arrogant jackass type, so sounds about right." Cristina agreed.

"He didn't even move. That was what- ten minutes ago, and he's not even here!"

"Maybe he had another patien-"

"Damn it!" Meredith exclaimed as her pager buzzed once again. Although, this time, she didn't even need to read it, as there was an abrupt explosions of people from behind her that indicated that Katie was the one in need of help. She sighed, and headed back into Katie's room.

"Five of diazepam." Meredith instructed. "Any idea of trigger? Was anyone with her?"

"No clue. She was talking- she was fine and then she just- I don't know. It just happened." One nurse explained as Meredith joined them in helping Katie.

"Right. Okay." She sighed, thinking. "Recovery position, lorazepam, diazepam, phenobarbital, suction, no restraint-"

"Dr Grey?"

"Just thinking, sorry." She muttered. This was the second seizure she'd ever seen, nevermind helped with.

"Where are we at?"

Meredith sighed as she recognized that stupid, stupid voice. Finally. Took him long enough to get to his own patient.

"Five of diazepam. Should I push another five?"

"How long has it been going on?"

"Maybe if you got here when your pager first went off, you would know that." Meredith muttered through gritted teeth.

"What did you just say Dr Grey?"

"It's been a minute, twenty seconds, Dr Shepherd." One of the nurse answered, eyes darting between the pair.

"Okay, then push another five."

"You don't fancy coming over and helping with suction then?" Meredith muttered. This guy. Honestly.

"Kiera, can I see her EEG trace?"

"Of course Dr Shepherd." The same nurse said, splitting from the still-seizing patient.

"And you can't even get your own EEG trace! Of course you can't!"

"Have you got a problem with me, Dr Grey?"

"My problem is that she had a seizure, and you left me to deal with it by myself while you just sat there. And now she's having another seizure, which you might of been able to prevent if you turned up earlier. And now, you're getting me and your nurses to do all the physical stuff because you can't be bothered. I mean, you couldn't even be bothered to get your own EEG trace. How can you be head of neuro and be so lazy? If you can get to the top like that, then why aren't I a freaking billionaire?" She asked. By the time her speech was over, Katie's shaking limbs had relaxed and the machines around her bed were staring to settle.

"Did you seriously just call me lazy?"

"Yes. I did."

"Leaving my house in the morning takes more effort than your whole day takes. Tell me how I'm lazy."

"Tell me why it's so hard for you to leave your house." She rebutted simply. She had ran about the place, and learnt a hundred new words, and had to recall a thousand old words from med school; there was no possible way that all of that took less effort than him leaving his house.

"You're gonna turn around now. And I'll give you one chance to apologize."

"Why would I apologize to you?" She asked, now making the best effort she could not to look at him. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't actually looked at the man since he entered the room, simply because she was too busy with her patient.

"Turn. Around." He demanded.

"Fine." She sighed as she turned. "But I'm not going to apolo-"

Crap.

Fuck.

Shit.

"So I'm going to assume you just said all of those things because of ignorance, not because you're ableist, judging by the look on your face?" Derek said through a smirk. This was too funny; he couldn't help it.

"You're..." Meredith started, mouth open, dumbstruck. She glanced to the nurses in the room, and could tell that they all knew.

"A paraplegic, yes, Dr Grey. Now do you understand why I didn't want to help with the suction or run up the stairs with you or get my own EEG trace?"

She swallowed. "I- need to- uh, need- I'm just going to-" Meredith Grey had done a lot of running in her first day. She had run to find people and run to help people and run because she was late. But nothing compared to this run, as she ran until she found a bathroom, and slammed the door behind her.

"So, who had the worst day?" Cristina pondered as she watched an extremely drained Meredith join the previous party of four, meeting her locker with a sigh.

"George is 007, anyone beat that?" Izzy inquired, making the named man frown.

Meredith sighed. "I shouted at a paraplegic."

"For a reason?" Cristina asked, confused.

"He was being an ass. I thought he was being an ass, even. I didn't realize he was paralyzed until after I finished shouting at him. Turns out I'm the ass."

"Did you not read his chart?"

"He wasn't a patient."

"So just, a random guy then?" Izzy asked, still confused. Normally answers were supposed to reduce the number of questions about a situation, not increase them, but she had more questions than when she started her story.

"He's head of neurosurgery. And I shouted at him for being lazy. And then I realised he couldn't walk. And then he laughed at me. Smirked, even. He has this stupid smirk, and it wasn't funny. It was...embarrassing. Just..." She sighed. "I'm so done. Do you think they're going to fire me? I mean, that's harassment and discrimination in one, right?"

"We're discussing Dr Shepherd?"

All five interns turned around at that voice to find their resident stood, watching them.

"Uh- Dr Bailey, I wasn't saying anything bad, I just-"

"Yeah, I heard about what you said Dr Grey. And he's letting it slide because he knew it was an accident. But non-accidental arguments and/or comments will get you fired for harassment and discrimination, yes, Grey, you're correct. Now, I trust you to act maturely and use your medical knowledge of SCIs to not ask stupid questions or say stupid things. Whatever you say reflects on me, and when bad things reflect on me, you get scut. In fact, you can all get scut, even if one of you is stupid, just to add to the pressure. Now, you need to go home and catch up on sixteen hours of sleep in about seven. See you bright and early tomorrow."

"Ah, Dr Grey!"

Damn it. "Dr Shepherd. You're uh- getting the elevator?" She said, simply because apparently her brain now turned to mush at the sight of him. She didn't want to be silent, but she had no idea why her brain recommended that to her mouth.

"No." He winked. "I was planning on taking the stairs."

"Funny man." She smiled, just a little. "Thank you, by the way."

"For?" He pondered.

"Not getting me fired."

"It's okay. I thought it was pretty funny. Need some humour every now and then."

"I get the impression that you like jokes."

He shook his head. "Can't stand them."

The corners of her lips ascending, but he could see her hesitation.

"You should laugh if you want. Not if you don't want to though, I'm not going to force you. But, if you think I'm funny, you're allowed to laugh."

Her grin expanded at that allowance. It wasn't really that funny, but it was enough to cause her to smile. "So you like jokes."

He smiled as the elevator pinged, and they were met with his floor. "Just hiding my pain, Dr Grey."

She smirked as the doors closed. He was such a peculiar man. Funny, clearly. Handsome. Kind, seeing as he'd let her off without even a mild scolding from her scary resident, which she supposed was his doing. Genuine. Bright and shiny, despite the fact she could only take a guess at his dark and twisty past, and whatever she could think of wasn't very good.

"Boo!" Heckled a voice from behind her.

She turned around to see who had just, rightfully, insulted her darts skills, to see the last man she expecting. "I'd like to see you do better Dr Shepherd."

"Give them here then." He said, moving towards her.

She sighed as she passed them over. "Do you need me to lower the board for you?" She asked in a purposefully, but jokingly, offensive way.

His eyelids dropped, and he raised his middle finger to her.

She giggled. "Swearing at students now? Don't think that's allowed."

"Shouting at paraplegics for being lazy? Don't think that's allowed."

"Hey, hey- you forgave me for that. You knew it was an accident."

"I did. But I'm also a teaser, as well as a joker." He explained as he looked over to the dart board. He raised his hand and-

"Jesus!" She exclaimed when the dart hit the bull's eye.

"See that-" He started as he pointed at her. "That's discrimination right there. Being surprised that I'm good at things is discrimination."

"You're head of neurosurgery, I think you're good at an awful lot of things." She pointed out.

He smirked. "Well, that is true."

"Arrogant." She noted. "How are you so good anyway?"

He smirked. "For some reason, no one seems to want me on their football team."

"I couldn't sleep last night, you know? Too busy thinking about Katie's surgery. How- I mean, it was incredible, wasn't it?"

Derek smiled. "Are you hooked?"

"Hooked?" Meredith asked before quickly glancing back to the screen. Their patient was in the CT scanner, and they were waiting for the scans to load.

"Onto surgery? Neuro, maybe?"

"Definitely onto surgery. Maybe onto neuro, if the guy stopped making so many jokes."

"Hey, I thought you liked the jokes."

"I do. Really. You're a comedian and an incredible neurosurgeon. But, the thing is, I came here for a neurosurgeon, not a comedian.

"Mmm, yeah. I guess you did come here hoping to learn medicine rather than hear my corny-" He tried before stopping when his knee slammed into the top of the desk, causing his teeth to nearly bite his bottom lip in half, and his eyes to clamp down. "Crap."

"Are you okay?"

"Mmm." He muttered.

When his eyes released, she could see they were an awful lot shinier than before. He had hit that table hard, and she could only presume it was a unwanted movement, which meant he probably couldn't have stopped it when the pain hit. "Are you sure?"

"I'm fine." He insisted.

"Was that a spasm? Do you need me to page another-"

"I said I'm fine."

Derek Shepherd had concluded that Meredith Grey was a sweet girl. Awkward, like everyone else was around him, but also...there was something else about her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was definitely a positive attribute. She definitely cared about him, if this morning was anything to go off, but she didn't hover and jab him with a thousand nosy questions either. Unfortunately, she was also correct in her conclusion. He wasn't okay.

The day had consisted of stabbing pain after twitch after shooting page after spasm after cramp all day, so it was lie after lie all day as well.

Luckily, he'd detected the slight pang in his leg he often felt before a full-blown cramp, and manged to get himself into an on-call room. He'd just about moved onto a bed when his entire foot, and hamstring tightened so far his leg shook. It was the same one that had twitched and caused him to knee the table this morning, so he knew he'd done something to it.

"Derek."

He looked up to the door at the call.

"Meredith-" He sighed as she slammed the door shut and dropped to her knees next to the bed. He didn't want her to see this. He didn't want anyone to see this. "Meredith, it's just a cramp, I-"

"Let me help." She begged as she grabbed his tensed foot, and pulled it upwards to release the muscle.

He wanted to say no. He wanted to be brave or proud or whatever, but it hurt so freaking much, and she...Meredith was there. He wouldn't want anyone else to be there, touching his throbbing, cramping leg, observing his intense vulnerability, but, for some reason, Meredith was an exception.

If he was honest, he was starting to feel a flutter every time he saw the woman. He loved their exchanges in the elevator, which had occurred at least once a day. He enjoyed thrashing her at darts a little too much, as well as the drink and chat that followed. He loved seeing her eyes dilate and her heart explode at the idea that someone could touch and fix and heal a broken brain, because that was his art. He loved her smile and her laugh, and how easily one of his quips could make those behaviours occur. He was getting feelings, but he knew that they were never going to be able to surface.

"Better?"

He sighed as his whole leg untensed, foot melting into her grip. "Better."

"Good." She said as she stood.

He watched her as she walked over to the other bed of the on-call room and grabbed the pillow before returning. He sat up with the help of his hands so he was more sat than lying down, because he felt patient-like enough as it was.

"Would acetaminophen help?" She asked as she pulled a pack out of her scrubs and chucked them on the bed.

"Why do you have acetaminophen?" He pondered, concerned.

"Time of the month." She said with a stressed smile - it was more annoying than it was in med school, somehow - as she picked up his legs and lifted it far enough that she could slip a pillow underneath it.

"Right. Well- I wish acetaminophen would help, but I don't feel any difference any more."

She pulled a sympathetic face. "Well uh- is there anything else I can do?"

"Go away, in the kindest way possible."

"Why?"

"Why do I want you to leave?" He asked, confused. He was expecting her to say no, not ask what he meant.

"I'm a doctor. And I'm not saying you're a patient because I'm sure you're sick of being called a patient, but why does it matter whether I'm helping you or some guy in the ER?"

"Because I'm your boss, and I'm supposed to be professional and not borderline crying of pain, and now I have you, an intern, nursing me in an on-call room like I'm a patient, which, yes, you're right, I hate being called."

She stared at him for a long moment, not quite sure what to say, before blurting, "Dr Shepherd. What happened to you?"

He sighed at that question. She was one of the only people who hadn't asked him what had happened, but she just ruined that streak. If he was honest, he was scared of this moment, because he wasn't sure he could lie to this particular woman. "Every time someone asks I tell a different story. I can make one up now if you want."

"Is it painful? Does it hurt to talk about it, I mean?"

"Not particularly. Just...my whole life is on display to everyone. People can guess my problems from a look at me. People think they know me. And it just...I find it helps to just...to have a piece of me that I get to keep- well, it's not a secret, plenty of people know, but not something that the whole world gets to know."

She stared at him for a second before licking her lips and swallowing. "How's the pain now? Better? Well- does it actually hurt, or just..." She sighed. "I'm going to be honest, although I learnt about SCIs in med school, I'm not entirely sure, you know, all SCIs are different so I don't actually know-"

"What I can feel?" Derek suggested as she struggled to complete her sentence. "My injury is incomplete."

"So you feel-" She prompted.

"Pain. Pressure when you push hard enough. No temperature. Oh- and I can feel pleasure too." He winked.

She giggled. "Inappropriate, Dr Shepherd."

"Sorry, sorry." He apologized, although they both knew he wasn't sorry. "Yes, I can feel pain from the cramp. But it's an awful lot better than it was a few seconds ago."

"Well, I don't know if you ever had these, because you're refusing to tell me what happened to you, but I frequently experience this super annoying thing when I stretch in the morning. One second I'm fine, the next my hamstring explodes. And that hurts so much I limp for hours. So...I have no idea how you're not dying right now."

"Well, good job I don't walk then." He joked.

"Derek." She sighed.

"It's fine. I just overworked myself in physio last night." He explained. Although his potential for recovery had gone a long time ago, he still attended physio. Without it, his bones went brittle from underuse and the muscles in his legs desintigrated to nothingness. Unfortunately, it had caused one of the things it was supposed to prevent when he pushed himself to hard.

"Your leg has been twitching all day. I've noticed."

"I'm aware of that, because I can feel it, but why are you?" He asked, more surprised than confused.

"Because after you smacked the table and almost cracked open your patella, believe it or not, I was worried about you."

He couldn't reply anything to that. She was worried about him. Rightfully so, he supposed, considering the fact he had injured himself in her presence, but not everyone would take note of that and watch him throughout the day.

Although that was kind, he hated her for it. Because now he liked her more, and he didn't want to like her more.

"Derek?" She named when he didn't reply, simply staring at her blankly.

"It's good that you care Dr Grey, because it sounds like you're doing a great job at doctoring, but-" He sighed. "I'm not your patient."

"Not gonna like what I was going to suggest next then." She sighed.

"Which was?"

"Where do you live?"

"Where do I live?" He repeated, confused.

"I don't think you should drive home with all this twitchy, spasmy stuff you have going on. So I thought I could drive you home. I'll pick you up in the morning too, if you want, seeing as you won't have a car."

He smiled. "You do know that-"

"Lemme guess, you're going to make a joke about the fact that your car has no pedals?" She interrupted.

He sighed, then grinned. "Damn you, Meredith."

"Well, here she is." He said as he unlocked the door, and pushed himself in.

"Nice." She said, simply because she didn't know what else to comment. It wasn't really a gasp-of-horror, nor gasp-of-beauty kind of house; it was just plain and simple. She supposed the lack of rugs and decoration was so he would have more space for himself, but there were paintings on the walls and the house was clean and well-kept. They had walked into the lounge after a very small cloakroom, but the kitchen was open-plan and to her immediate right. A lack of doors was good for him, she supposed.

"I think it would have been cool to live in like- the woods. Have you ever seen tiny houses? I love tiny houses. Like- a shipping container turned into a whole house. Bit like a trailer, I guess."

"You want to live in a trailer?" She asked with creased eyebrows. That didn't sound very appealing to her.

"I'd like to live in nature." He corrected.

Now that she thought about it, his house wasn't actually neutral, all the paintings were of forests or mountainous landscapes, and most tables contained a plant. He was a nature-freak inside. Interesting. "So why do you live in the middle of Seattle?"

"Nature is not the most accessible of places to live, which is a shame. I liked nature."

"So you weren't born that way?"

He smirked. "Is our whole friendship based around you trying to figure out why I can't walk?"

"Who said we were friends?"

"You're in my house." He said pointedly.

"I'll go then, shall I? Before we become best friends."

"I have a show starting in-" He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. "-five minutes. So, if you don't want to become best friends, then that's fine with me."

"Robin Gren?" Meredith guessed. He didn't seem the type to watch the show necessarily, but she knew it was on because that was what she was going to rush home to watch.

"Mmm." He agreed.

"No way!" Meredith exclaimed with a grin. "I love that show!"

"You know we're best friends now, right?" Derek asked as Meredith settled next to him on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn, which Derek thought was odd when she suggested it. It was a TV-show, not a movie, but he didn't tell her she wasn't allowed to take the bag.

She smirked as she took one to her mouth. "I'm okay with that. Now I have someone to talk to about this show."

"Now, before it starts-" He said as he took a handful of the snack. "-the real question is who is your favourite?"

"It's called Robin Gren for a reason."

He smiled. "Thank god. I thought I was going to have to kick you out then."

"Kick me out, with legs like that?" She joked with a cock of her eyebrows before her head shot over to the TV when endless ads finally ceased. "Oh- it's starting!"

"You dance to the intro music?" Derek asked with an amused grin as he watched her head bob, arms moving in tempo with the song.

"You don't?"

He shook his head. "I don't dance in public."

"Not even for me?" She asked with a fake frown. "Think about all the pain I prevented today when I fixed your cramp."

He sighed, and smiled. Meredith wouldn't call what he did next dancing, but he at least moved a little. They both giggled at each others extraordinarily awkward moves - the only prize they'd win for dancing was world's worst dancers - until it ended, and the show really did start.

Derek, however, was paying no attention to it, despite the fact that the last episode ended on a cliff-hanger that was sure to be resolved at the start of this one, knowing the show. He was watching Meredith, and Meredith only.

He hated that she was here, and that she was so nice, and that she was the only one who took her jokes (even if it was with a few also-joking begs to stop), and that she'd helped her through a cramp, and her smile, and her laugh, and that she shared his favourite TV show (simply because that meant he was now a friend she could talk to about it) because the more of those things she did, the more he loved her. He had given up on the idea of having a girlfriend or a wife a very, very, very long time ago, but now he was falling in love with someone for the first time since he made that choice. So what the hell was he supposed to do now?