"Right, now it's just the eyes. This is where we need to switch to sewing." He said as passed her the needle he had just threaded.

"And then that's it?"

"I can't tell whether you said that with a thank-god-this-is-over voice or a oh-man-we've-almost-finished voice." He said as he collected his own sewing needle and started attaching the eyes.

She smiled. "Can we make that turtle next?"

He returned a grin. She had the latter tone then, clearly. "Of course."

"Right, I think I'm-" The corners of her mouth rose as she held up the creature. "-finished!"

He kissed her on the cheek. "That's incredible, Mer."

She turned to look at him at the action. They'd kissed in a passionate kind of way when they were in bed together, but neither of them had ever done the simple, quick little acts of love before. "Do it again."

"What?"

"Do it again." She repeated.

He looked at her for a second before pressing another kiss on her cheek, causing an even wider smile to appear on her face.

The world seemed to stop for a few seconds, before Meredith finally moved.

"What ya doing?" Derek asked as she scavenged through the box on the coffee table.

"Just something."

"Well I could tell that you were doing 'something' by the fact that you moved." He replied, unimpressed.

She shook her head at him. "You really think you're funny."

"It's a fact, actually." He corrected. "Not something I think."

She sighed at his lack of funniness, then excitedly presented him with what she'd found.

"Oh, no-" He breathed when Meredith placed the toy she'd just found on the table before placing hers next to it.

"So, which one do you think is better?"

"Whiskers." He answered simply.

She rolled her eyes. Of course. "If you didn't know which one was which, which one would you think was better?"

"But I do know which one is which. That means I know which one was made by you with my help and full cognitive abilities, and which one was made by me with someone who was as new to crotchet as I was while I was half-dead in hospital."

"But mine is better, right? Like- if you didn't consider that bit."

He sighed, sat forward, and picked up Whiskers before replacing it with the cat he had just finished. It was just like the turtle or snake in the way that it's proportions were perfect to the nanometer. The arms were stuffed perfectly evenly, and the stitch was equaly tight throughout every piece. Hers was mostly even, but there were a few areas where he could see a little bit of white stuffing trying to escape to the light, and a few places the yarn had bunched a little bit. The right paw was bigger than the left, and one ear was further up the head than the other by a few centimetres. Other than that, it was pretty good for a first try. But not as good as his new one.

"Which one's better now then, huh?" He asked.

"That's not fair."

"But I'm a surgeon Meredith; I'm competitive."

She pouted at his imitation of her. "Hate you."

He just smiled, and kissed her on the cheek. "Sure you do."

"So...why are you crotcheting again?" Alex asked as he watched her.

"Dexterity."

"I know, but why?"

"Dexterity." She repeated.

"There are other things you can do that don't include...that."

"You're just jealous that I'm going to be the best intern from our year."

"That'll be me, actually." Cristina corrected. "But I do sensible things like practice sutures on a pad to improve my dexterity, instead of making tortoises."

"It's actually a turtle." Meredith corrected.

"Dr Shepherd!" Izzie greeted, taking the opportunity for a distraction from their arguing.

Meredith looked round at the call.

"What are you doing, Dr Grey?" He asked, peering at what she was doing. "Is that knitting?"

"Crotchet." She corrected with a smile.

"Is there a difference?"

"A very big difference."

"Really?" He asked. "You still have the sticky thingmabob and the yarn in both of them though, right?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but it was hard to resist a smile. He was the one who taught her the difference. "One sticky thingmabob in crotchet and two in knitting, actually, Dr Shepherd."

"Right." He agreed with creased eyebrows, as if this was all news to him.

"Anyway, what are you doing here?" She asked, as if they hadn't just spent the morning discussing his appointment. "Bailey told me you were on leave."

"Checkup." He clarified.

"Are you feeling better?" Izzie asked.

"Much better."

"Hope you're back to normal soon, Dr Shepherd." Izzie wished with a smile.

"Thank you, Dr Stevens." He said as he smiled back, before leaving.

"Tell me if there's any pain."

"Yeah, I know the drill." Derek said with a smile.

Richard returned it before pressing his hand into his abdomen, just over the top of his most recent scar. "Nothing?"

"Nope."

"Still on any pain meds?"

"No more than I was on before."

"Right." He agreed. Derek had stopped being his patient a long time ago, but he should have considered the fact that he still took an awful lot of medication. "But are you taking it for this pain?"

"No. And if I don't take anything, I still don't feel any pain there."

He nodded. "Good."

"So...surgery?"

He sighed. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"It's been six weeks."

"That's still not very long, considering what happened." He reminded him.

"I've survived worse."

"I know you've survived worse, but that doesn't mean you're ready now."

"Average recovery is six weeks." Derek rebutted.

"No, the average recovery for a kidney transplant is six weeks. You had about five other problems on top of that, remember?"

"Four more days?"

"Two weeks?" He bargained.

"Five days."

"You can't bargain a return to work." He rebutted, knowing how stubborn Derek was.

"A week. C'mon, you know I'm your best neurosurgeon."

He sighed. "A week. Book a day of easy tumours. Have a break between each one. At the end of the day, come and find me so I can check you're fine."

He smiled. "Thanks. I'm rewatching reruns. Reruns."

"Reruns aren't that bad."

"Tell that to me after you've watched literally every movie three times."

"I suppose so." He agreed as he sat down on the stool next to the examination table Derek was on. "So, any questions?"

"Just the one."

He nodded, ready to answer, only for Derek to stay silent. "Which is?" He prompted.

He gulped, feeling his cheeks turn a little red. "Um- sex?" was all he managed.

"Right." He breathed. That was the last thing he expected to hear. He supposed that it shouldn't be; just because Derek was the way he was, that didn't mean he wasn't allowed or couldn't have sex, but he was still surprised by the question. "I'm going to be honest I didn't know that was- um- something that you-"

"It's a new thing." He interrupted when Richard realized how awkward what he was about to say really was. "So new that- I mean, we haven't actually done it before."

"So you have a girlfriend." He concluded.

He beamed. "I do."

"Last time we talked about it, didn't you say you didn't want a relationship?"

"I did. And I still didn't until a few months ago. But...she's just so great. Everything about her, everything she does- she's just so perfect."

He smiled. "Well, I'm glad you're happy. And the answer to your question is yes."

"Okay." He breathed.

"I feel like you wanted me to say no."

"No, no- I wanted you to say yes but now...I just-"

"Now you're scared?" Richard suggested.

He smiled. "Yeah. Basically."

When Meredith entered the house to find Derek on the couch, she was frowning.

She didn't say a word as she entered and removed her coat, eyes on the floor.

"What happened?" He asked, voice full of worry.

She didn't speak for as second before asking, "Do you know Camile Travis?"

"Richard's niece?" Derek suggested.

"You know she had ovarian cancer when she was fourteen-" She continued.

"Oh, no." He breathed, guessing at what was coming next. Cancer survivors commonly had secondary reoccurances. "Don't tell me-"

"Yeah." She sighed. "It's back. She was at prom and then she was in the hospital and now she's being set up with an oncologist, all in about two hours."

"Is Richard okay?"

"Not really. He's just about holding it together, but I know he's not okay."

"Cancer is a horrendous thing." He agreed.

She bit her lip, and nodded.

"You okay?"

"Not great either. It's just sad- you know, losing a family member. Or not losing them but knowing they're going to die soon. I think the latter is worse- with the waiting and all."

"I can only imagine." He replied. He swallowed, and then tapped the space next to him on the sofa.

She smiled, and let him engulf her in a hug before she could even settled on the sofa.

"Want to talk about it?"

She didn't know what else she could ask.

One second she was asleep, and the next Derek was shoving her in his sleep. She had turned around to scould him for the attack and hopefully recieved an apology, but quickly found that all of those ideas fell out of her mind when she looked at him. She had new priorities after that.

"Water?" He mouthed breathlessly.

She nodded and breathed an agreement before kissing him on the cheek and leaving. This new idea of kissing each other in that location was supposed to be a new, happy thing, but he couldn't even manage a fake smile.

She sighed at the sink before grabbing a glass and turning on the tap. Once the glass was full, she headed back to the bedroom and paused just outside to flick the light off. Without the extra loud footsteps of her boot, she could hear everything.

He sniffled twice, and then sighed slowly before his breathing returned to normal.

She stayed there for a moment to give him some privacy before entering the room. He had put some pillows against the top of the headrest of the bed so he could sit up.

"I'm sorry." He said, eyes not baring to look at her and teeth biting on his lip.

She smiled, just because she felt that he wouldn't believe her without it. "It's okay."

"It's half three in the morning."

"I know." She acknowledged as she placed the glass on his bedside cabinet. "And I still think it's okay."

He shook his head.

"Derek, I'm telling you, it's fine." She reassured him again as she back on her side of the bed, facing him.

"It's not; it's-"

"Embarrassing." She interrupted. "I know you think it's embarrassing, and I know you think it's stupid, but it's not. You're traumatised because you went through something traumatic."

"Guess so." He agreed weakly, although he still didn't look at her.

"And if you insist that it is embarrassing- you know I do embarrassing things too, remember?" She prompted. "Like wetting myself in med school and singing in a completely different key than the piano teacher."

He finally smiled, just a little.

"I wish I could have got you to smile from happiness rather than from laughing at me."

"Sorry."

"And I wish you'd stop apologising every freaking second." She added.

"I...am apologizing for my constant apologizing."

Then she smiled. "So...do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Doesn't it help to talk about it?" Meredith asked. She wasn't massively informed on psychology not therapy, but she was pretty sure that was a thing she had heard of. "Isn't that like a trauma-therapy thing?"

"Yeah. And I'd love to but just- you know-"

"I don't know anything about what happened to you." She finished for him. "So, therefore, I'm not going to be very good at consoling you."

"Mmm." He agreed.

"Are they worse than before?"

He stared at her for a long second before nodding.

"It's not because of me- is it?" She asked, anxious and breathy. "Me being here isn't-"

"No, no, no. Nothing to do with you." He reassured her. "It's um- staying in hospital. It just bought it all back. I mean- I had them before. But not so often."

She nodded. "Makes sense. I'd see why that would make them get worse." She agreed, hoping that affirming him would help him think that they were more acceptable.

"Suppose so." He shrugged, still not totally sure of himself.

"How about some snuggles? Would that help?"

He just about smiled, then moved.

"No, no-" She said.

"What?"

"You be the little spoon. Then I get to squish you with love and show you you're not alone. Because you're not. You're never going to be alone. You never have to be scared and you never need to feel embarrassed either. I've got you, okay?"

God, he had such a good girlfriend. He smiled. "Okay."