Hello! Day 13!

Another 11x21 AU for today, as you guys enjoyed it so much last time!

So, I've had multiple requests for a one-shot about the adventures of Death and Die. I've written out the words from the scene and a few more lines of text, but stopped where Meredith actually has to confess to what she did in Europe because I didn't know what to write. I'm sometimes great at reading between the lines and sometimes not, but I'm 99% sure that Meredith experimented *wink, wink* in Europe, as that seems to be the thing to do. Anyway, what would you guys like Meredith to talk about in the extended scene?

Now...to the one-shot! Enjoy! :)

"Decided what you want?"

"What?" Meredith asked, looking up.

"Are you ready to order?" The waitress clarified, gesturing to the menu.

"Oh-" She breathed. "No. I'm waiting for my husband to get here; I just wanted a look at the menu because I always take forever to decide."

She nodded. "Right. Would you like a drink then?"

"Um...yeah, a-" She scanned the list on the back of the menu. She avoided the alcohol section, but it wasn't because she was driving. "Just a lemonade please. With ice."

The waitress nodded. "Happen to know what your husband will like when he gets here?"

"Oh- probably the same."

"Okay. Two lemonades it is. Call me over when you're ready to order your meal."

Meredith nodded and smiled. "Okay. Thank you."

Her glass was empty, and his ice had melted.

She couldn't help but sit and think about how attrotious the amount of ice the restaurant had put in the drink was. She'd asked with lemonade with ice, not ice with a little drop of lemonade. Eventually, after no specific amount of time she gave up, grasped the drink herself, and settled it in front of her. She sipped on the straw as she pulled out her phone, and called him.

It went straight to voicemail.

She sighed, and called him once again.

Voicemail. Again.

This time, she accepted the monotone woman's offer of leaving a message. "Hey. I know we're surgeons; we suck at turning up at places on time and we love cutting but-" She sighed. "I...have some news. Some really important news. And I thought a date would be the perfect place to tell you so...yeah, just- hurry up, basically. Love you."

It had been at least half an hour. The waitress probably thought she was mad, and Meredith probably should have given up and either left or started at least the appetisers without him, but she continued to sit there.

Luckily, she'd found a new source of entertainment in the form of the television across the room. The sound was off and it was a little far away to read the captions with ease, but she could just about make out what was going on in the soap opera.

As a surgeon, she didn't have much time for watching TV shows and mainly watched films with Derek or the kids, but she found the show intriguing nevertheless. A blonde woman was mad at a bald man due to an affair, and they were just about to start what Meredith was sure to be an argument to break them apart when the screen went blank. She couldn't help but feel her heart sink at the disappearance; it was just getting good.

After a few seconds, it flickered, and the recognisable face of Seattle's most famed news presenter appeared on the screen, talking live.

Now her heart sank. In fact, she couldn't believe she felt her heart sink before as she read the headline below the presenter...and spotted a boxy, black SUV in the images of the five-car motorway pileup.

Derek drove a black SUV.

She had been so angry at him. Sure, she had sat there in silence and been patient as she stared at the TV and sipped on the drink that was supposedly his, but she was angry. Really angry. Infuriated, perhaps.

Meredith thought Derek had let her down.

Meredith thought Derek had ignored her calls.

Meredith thought Derek had disappointed her.

Meredith thought Derek had failed to make time for something that she had told him multiple times was so extremely important to her.

Except he hadn't let her down, or ignored her calls, or disappointed her, or failed to make time for her. He was in a car accident. A large vehicle from the other side of the road had plowed through the barrier and smashed into multiple cars at once.

"Don't look so scared. I'm okay." Derek said, as if that was going to minimise the IVs in his arm or the hospital gown he was wearing or the oxygen cannula up his nostrils or the multiple machines surrounding his gurney or the cuts on his face or the functional hinge brace on his knee or the way he was relying on a stack of pillows to keep himself upright.

It didn't help her expression nor the way she was stood which such a look of nervousness in the doorway. He didn't know why he thought it would.

"Fine. You know I'm lying. My head hurts like hell and I can't quite tell whether it's the concussion or the whiplash, and my knee feels like it's on fire...but, other than that...Mer, I am okay."

She took a step in but didn't speak before quietly confessing, "I saw the news."

"You'd think to get a job as a truck driver you'd have to know how to drive one, right? Apparently not."

She didn't smile at that, despite the fact her brain registered it as a joke. "Someone died."

"But I didn't die. I'm here, Mer. I'm alive. I'm breathing. I'm-" He paused when she engulfed him in a hug.

Her hands clawed at his hospital gown, as if the crushing arms weren't enough. They were enough. He would say she was squeezing him so hard it hurt, but his whole body was so bruised and broken that any kind of touch or pressure hurt in most places.

"Okay- okay-" He breathed after a few seconds. He loved hugs by the people he loved, especially Meredith, but he didn't enjoy this one. This wasn't a happy hug. "Mer. It's okay. You can let go."

She sniffled as she pulled away. She hadn't cried yet, but her eyes were shining. It wasn't a happy, sparkly-eye-thing kine of shine. "No. It's not okay."

"They're discharging me in an hour, and I can go back to work in a few weeks, assuming I heal as predicted. I know no car accident would be preferable but- I mean, as far as car accidents go- considering how it...could have gone-" He swallowed. "This is a good ending."

She stared at him for a few seconds, silent as she processed what he was saying. If she was honest, she was still processing what he had said when she first saw him. Her brain was so frazzled by the anger of him not turning up at the restaurant, then the pain of thinking he'd been hurt, then the surprise at hearing he hadn't even had a singular procedure and was sat contently in a regular patient room, then the joy at seeing him. "I'll be back. Give me twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes, what, wh-" He tried to protest, but she was already gone.

He was half asleep when he felt a hand grasp his. He didn't mean to drift off, but he was given quite a high dose of morphine in the emergency room, and it made his eyelids so extremely heavy. "Derek-"

He groaned as he opened his eyes. It didn't take long for him to adjust back to the real world, seeing as he hadn't quite fallen into the world of sleep.

"Hey. Sorry. Didn't want it to go cold."

"Cold? What didn't you-" He paused when he spotted two plates of spaghetti on the over-the-bed table.

"I went back to the restaurant. They don't do take aways but they made an exception." Meredith explained as she pulled the table a little closer to him. "AKA, the waitress was concerned that I had made you up because you took so long so she was so glad to hear that I wasn't a loon that she offered it."

He smirked before it fell a little as he apologised, "I'm sorry, by the way."

"Oh, God, Derek. Don't be sorry. Please."

"I um-" He swallowed. "I listened to voicemail after you left. I thought it might give me an idea about where you were going but all I really picked up was...that you invited me out because you needed to tell me something."

"Promise me you're not going to die." She blurted out of the blue.

His eyebrows creased. "I think we've both learnt that you can't promise that."

"I know. But just-"

"Okay. I...promise I will do everything in my power within my limits as a human to not die for the next fifty years. Now...this news-"

"The reason why I'm asking you to say this...it's because of the kids."

"Right." He agreed hesitantly. That fact was obvious; neither of them wanted Zola nor Bailey to grow up without a father.

"All...three of them."

"What?" He breathed, his mouth not closing after he spoke. "You're...?"

She beamed as she placed a hand on her stomach. "Pregnant."