Hello! :)

Here is my mid-week (well, mid-Friday) post, as I promised! I know there's nothing worse than waiting a long time after a string of cliff hangers, so I'm reducing that just a little by putting this out now.

I'm afraid I can't promise that this Friday's chapter ends on a more conclusive note than this one, nor the next one...nor the next one. So this isn't overally helpful, but you do get the resolution a week early!

Enjoy! :)

"Your migraines come from stress." Meredith stated as she carefully placed his lunch on his lap.

"My migraines can come from stress." He agreed. "But also...other things. It's just- you know, part of having a TBI."

"But stress makes them occur more often, and also makes them more severe."

"But this is one of my best migraines. It started less than 24 hours ago and you put the light on without me curling up into a ball. I'm thinking of going work tomorrow, even." He said earnestly. He wasn't lying; he really was already starting to feel better.

"But it's still a trigger."

"It- yes, it's still a trigger." He sighed. He didn't want to admit it but, considering the fact that Meredith was a doctor too, she couldn't even try to form a lie around that. "But we can't talk about this."

"We can't talk about what's stressing you out?"

He shook his head. "No."

"We can't talk about it because I'm stressing you out, right?" She assumed. "It's because I'm the trigger of your stress, and your migraine."

"I can't talk about it because then it stresses you out, and then we argue, and I don't like arguing, and I don't like us not being us, and I just-" He sighed. "I can't, Meredith. I just-"

"I know, I know, I know-" She interrupted, hating the tension and pain in his voice. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry. I hate us not being us too. I hate arguing too."

"I know you want to stop me from asking you whether your okay and what's wrong- so I'm not going to ask. But I just-"

"You just what?" She pressed, her voice light.

"I'd get it if you broke and confessed you didn't like me. I'd get it if you broke and told me that you would be happier if I was able-bodied, but you still love me. I'd even get it if you broke and told me that you loved me but you couldn't stay with me because my chair bothered you too much. I'd understand that- in the past, I'd even agree with you, Mer but-" He swallowed. "Telling a paraplegic that your life was worse than theirs is...Meredith, that is not something I get."

She tried to reply to that, but she couldn't. She did, however, feel tears appear in her eyes.

"There are two options I created to try and explain it." He continued. "Either you're a horrible person, or...something actually happened to you that was worse than being paralyzed- and I know you, Mer- you're not a bad person, you're an amazing person so-" He swallowed. He felt his eyes watering over too. "Meredith, what the hell happened to you?"

"Hey, Sleepyhead-" Derek muttered as he paused by the bed, kissing her on the cheek. "I made you pancakes."

"Mmm." She groaned, her eyes opening.

"You feeling okay? Headache back?"

"No-" She sighed. She sat up a little. "I'm feeling okay."

"Okay enough for work? You've got an hour and a half until we have to leave, by the way, so plenty of time if right now you're just groggy."

"Mmm. Fine for work." She agreed. "And definitely fine for pancakes."

"Great, because I made loads." He said with a smile before pushing himself back a little, ready to return to the kitchen.

"Derek-" She called, making him pause.

"Mmm?"

She blushed a little. "Where's my second kiss?"

His broad smile very quickly reappeared as he headed back to the bed to fulfil her request. Although, it was much more than one kiss. It was more like five, and a quick giggle and tease (her desire for his warm, mouth-watering pancakes rather than cold pancakes overrode their desire to go any further).

"Here is your...lemon thing pancake." Derek said as he lifted the plate from his lap and placed it in front of her.

She smiled. "One mistake and you're gonna make fun of me forever, huh?"

"Yes. I'm kind like that."

"You are kind. Very kind." She said. She knew she was pulling the conversation in a completely different direction, but she didn't care. She needed him to know how much she appreciated him.

"I didn't really do anything."

"You had a migraine because you were so stressed about me being stressed. That is like...the kindest thing ever. Literally. You were like- in physical pain because you're so nice."

"Other than that then." He corrected. "It may have been nice, but it's not actually something I really wanted to happen."

"How about all the reassurance?"

"I am being a boyfriend. I believe being reassuring and kind to my girlfriend is what I am supposed to do as a boyfriend, right?"

"Any other boyfriend would push me to tell him all the details or- or even just to say any facts at all." She corrected. "I said...what was it- 'I had a really crappy year in med school and I don't want to talk about it right now but I promise I'm fine' and you said 'cool, thanks for telling me'. That's insane, Derek. You're insane."

"I'm insane?" He repeated.

She sighed. "You're so understanding that it's scary. That's my point."

"I'm a paraplegic, but my girlfriend doesn't know why I'm paraplegic. I understand. I told you. It's just...you really weren't doing a good job at proving that you were fine until last night so I had to keep pushing. And I am sorr-"

"No. No apologising. Something can both be annoying, but also the right thing for me. I didn't like what you were doing, but you were right to be worried so...yeah, no apologising allowed here, okay?"

"Okay." He agreed with a smile before returning to his pancakes.

Meredith waited until he had almost finished his mouthful before inquiring, "Is it the chair thing again?"

"Is what the chair thing again? Apologising?"

She faltered. She hadn't even got onto that bit in her mind yet. "Yeah, probably. But I meant being nice- is you being nice a chair thing?"

"Oh, definitely. Before I was paralyzed, I used to drown puppies in rivers and point out people's insecurities to get out a good laugh."

She rolled her eyes. "Derek. You're not funny.

"I see a little smile coming from you, Mer."

Her previously small smile (which, as he had pointed out, was most definitely there) grew a little. "Okay. Fine. I'm smiling. But I want to be serious again for just a minute."

"I like to think I was always nice, is what I mean."

"But are you nice to people now because..." She paused. "Does it make you feel as if you're less of a hindrance to people if, when it comes to things you can do, you are as nice as possible?"

"If this surgeon job of yours goes south, become a therapist."

"So yes?" She inferred.

"Everything you say about me and the way I act and my chair is always true. It's creepy." He agreed. "But making people happy- helping people is what makes me the happiest. It's literally my job as a neurosurgeon. So I love being nice, you know?"

"I love you being nice as well." She agreed. "Just...try not to he so nice you have a migraine next time, okay?"

He smiled. "I'll try my best."

"Meredith-" He knocked on the door again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I know we have to leave soon." She called through the door.

Honestly, he didn't care that they were late, just that Meredith had replied to him at all. He received no answer upon his first knock (which he thought may have been a simple mistake on her part if she didn't realise it was a purposeful knock) and felt his heart rate rising rather quickly when he called her name and got no reply for the first time. "That's okay. Just...checking you're still alive."

"Can I ask you something? I guess it's kind of personal but- I don't know just- can I?"

"Of course. Anything."

"You ever- kind of- oh, I don't know how to describe it but-"

"Just try and describe it. I'll get it if I can relate." He called back, desperately hoping for any form of her opening up. Also, it sounded as if it could be important from the stress in her voice.

"It's like- something happens and you're happy-"

"Right." He agreed when she didn't continue straight away.

"-but then- it's like- the second the happiness is gone...you realise something isn't right?"

"Like, you're sad it's over?"

"No...like-" She swallowed. The door unlocked, and she opened it so she could look at him. "It's like something was always wrong. Something...something was always wrong with today but you woke me up with pancakes and kisses and I just- I didn't feel it until you were gone to do the washing up and I was stood in the shower that it- I mean, it just- hit me one second and-"

"This is about yesterday?" He asked. "About what happened to you in med school?"

"No-" She shook her head. She looked almost scared. "It's not. Not at all."

"Are you sure?" He pressed, unsure of how she could be so certain.

"I'm sure. It's- just-" She placed her hand against her chest. "It's in here. This- this thing- this feeling-"

"It feels like it's more in your heart than your head?"

"It's- yeah. It's just-" Her hand still didn't leave her chest. "It's like everything is quiet and I can finally hear my own thoughts and I- I don't know it's not even like I'm thinking of bad things specifically or anything like that- it's more that- in here- it's just-"

"Dread. You feel dread?"

She stared at him for a very, very long moment before nodding. That was exactly what it was. That was the word. That was the experience.

Dread. She felt dread. For no reason at all.

"Like today's not going to go well?" He continued.

"But like-" She tried.

"It's going to go really, really wrong. Like...you could die." He interrupted, already knowing what she was going to say.

She gave him a very similar mute stare to the one she had just one second ago. "You...you've experienced- this thing- this- dread thing- you've felt it?"

"Yeah. I have."

"And then what happens? Does it go away? Does something happen? Or does it pass?"

"Yeah."

"Derek, you're going to have to give me more than that."

"You'll be okay, Mer."

"No-" She shook her head. "Tell me the truth. Please, Derek. Please."

"It...it goes away eventually."

"How long is eventually?" She asked.

"Well...the first and only time I've felt it-" He swallowed. He wished he didn't have to say this, but he didn't want to lie. "-the feeling was there one morning. And it was gone a few weeks later."

"A few weeks? You felt this way for a few weeks?"

"I felt it for a day. Because about twelve hours later, I was on life-support in a coma. And I stayed that way for about a month so...the feeling- I don't know when it disappeared. I...just-"

His grip grew stronger, and he pulled on his arm a little. Thankfully, it was his good arm. "Oh, God, mate-"

His eyes didn't move. He'd never really seen Mark cry before so it wasn't a sight he could look away from even if he tried. Even if his eyes stung so much that he could barely keep them open. Even if his brain felt like it was on fire. Even if the light burnt his pupils.

"You were in a really, really bad accident, Derek." He explained. "You're in the ICU, you've had an awful lot of surgery."

He felt someone brush against the fingers on his other hand.

"Do you understand, Sweetie?"

"Can you blink if you understand?" Mark pressed, knowing it would be difficult to communicate in any other way.

He didn't blink, but he probably could have if he tried. The real reason he refused to try was because he could see Mark, and his mom, and they were telling him that he'd been in an accident.

He knew he'd been in an accident. He remembered that.

What he couldn't comprehend was the fact that they were talking to him. The fact he was in the ICU. The fact that he had surgery done on him.

So he just looked between the pair in shock.

He couldn't do anything else.

Because he wasn't dead.

And, lying on the floor with three limbs that wouldn't even move and a seemingly endless amount of blood in his hair, he was so freaking sure that he was going to be dead.

"You mean...you felt this thing one morning- and then...then you actually almost died?"

Now he was scared for her as he swallowed, and regretfully admitted, "Yeah."

A/N: Mmm...guess the canon event?