A/N:

Hello!

Here's the second post of the week, featuring the dirty mistresses (except they're not called that because that plot does exist but, you know) and some fun back story on Derek and Mark as tiny children.

Once upon a time I started writing a little series about Derek's childhood, based off a few flashbacks I had put in Organ Damage about Michael Boetcher, so perhaps look out for that when I'm done with Love? Or perhaps simultaneously when I have more time and can post multiple times a week?

Enjoy! :)

"Meredith Grey?"

The named woman looked up at the call, surprised. "Hi-"

"Can you come with me?" He asked.

"Oh-" She stood, and walked to the man. "Since when were you an audiologist?"

Mark smiled. "Since Derek would kill me if I let an idiot do this test and screw it up. Now, time to listen to some beeps, okay?"

Meredith smiled. "Okay."

"Well-" Mark sighed. "I'm glad to say you passed at 17dB. So...2 dB out of normal hearing, but that's likely to improve over the next two to three days anyway. You're doing better than the average myringoplasty patient."

She smiled. "Great. Thank you."

"How's the pain?"

"Manageable. I was taking acetaminophen yesterday, but I haven't had any today and I'm doing okay."

"And how are you feeling after being blown up and all?"

"You're asking me how I feel?" She asked with creased brows.

"Is that surprising?" He asked.

"You don't really- seem like a feelings guy, you know?" Meredith said after a short second of thinking.

"Most of the time, I am not a feelings guy. But you are Derek's girlfriend, and Derek makes me into a feelings guy. So...right now, yes, I suppose I am a feelings guy."

Meredith didn't speak for a long moment before asking, "Do you feel like it's your fault?"

"You mean-"

"Derek told me you were fighting that day. He refused to go and have a drink with you, and that's when the accident happened." She explained. "He said he wished he went to have that drink with you. He said sometimes...sometimes he wonders whether you're- you know, wonders whether you're a feelings guy, I guess, when it comes to him because of that."

"I was a 5-year-old nursery bully." He said rather abruptly. "Derek Shepherd was a nerd- even at that age. And tough guy Mark Sloan didn't like that."

Meredith smiled. Baby McSteamy beating up baby McDreamy. What a strange thought.

"But Derek was far too nice. He wanted to share crayons with me. All. The. Time. I'd say he sucked, and he'd ask me to play with him."

"Sounds like him."

"Mmm." Mark agreed. "Eventually I stopped beating him up, and we became actual friends. I started going to Carolyn's and...that's when she came to the realisation that I was one of those bullies who bullied because I needed to. I don't know- it was the only way I could find control or...something like that."

"Crappy home life?" She guessed.

"You could say that."

She nodded. There was more to Mark than she thought. More than a man who really, really loved sex.

"Derek became my brother that day, and he continued to share his crayons for years- then his pencils- then his med textbooks." He continued. "I never would have even gotten into med school without him, nevermind actually got through it. I wouldn't have finished my internship, passed my exam, done my residency- done anything. Ever."

"So...that's why?"

"I...I would always be like this. Derek is my family. I love him. I'd do- most things for him (I wouldn't want to give him all of that power and say I'd do anything, just incase)."

Meredith smiled.

"We had an argument over a patient. He turned out to be right, of course, he's Derek Shepherd. I called him that night to tell him and he didn't answer me. I thought he was being an ass and ignoring me. Then I got a call from the chief."

"Worst phone call of your life?"

"He told me there was an accident, and I hang up in a rush because I think someone's lost their face in a fire and I need to get here stat to help them but-" Mark bit at his lip. "It wasn't that kind of accident."

"So...not the worst phone call?" She presumed. At least he wasn't told that over the phone and had to rush to the hospital in tears, she supposed.

"No. But it was the worst day. And the worst week. And the worst month. And the worst year." He replied before stating, "The worst phone call was made by me."

"To Carolyn?" She guessed. All next of kins became distraught when she talked to them about injuries, but mothers were often the worst.

"The pain in her voice that day-" He sighed.

She nodded, and swallowed before guessing, "Worst conversation too?"

"That one would be with Derek. Well...top 50 worst conversations, actually, would be with Derek. We didn't talk about good things often that year."

"I can't imagine. I mean, when he has cramps or spasms that freaks me out enough. And then- you know, he's rather insecure-"

Mark smiled. "Yes, I know."

"Psychologically-" She sighed. "I mean, it's hard enough for me to convince him nowadays to smile when he thinks a little bit too much, but- looking after someone- supporting them mentally right afterwards."

"Yeah, it...it was horrible." Mark said. He couldn't lie about that. "Waiting, then- I mean, we were glad when he woke up but- not so glad that that meant telling him things- things like 'you have brain damage' and 'you're paralysed' and 'you've got a very possible life of literal nothingness after you finally get out of the hospital'."

"Mmm." She muttered. She didn't even think about that. She'd thought about before he woke up and how much that could have hurt, and what it was like afterwards for Mark to help Derek through rehab, but she totally missed that in her mind.

"He took it like a champ though. Well, mostly."

"The paralysis being the exception, I assume?"

"No- it was the screwed up speech that got to him. The paralysis, actually-"

"Can you squeeze my hand?"

His hand tightened around Mark's.

He gave the man a small smile at that. It was the same fairly weak squeeze as it was everyday, but he always made sure to smile for reassurance, even when things were the same. Sometimes, he'd even do it when things got worse. Anything to encourage him. "Now...I want you to give your toes a little wiggle, okay?"

His toes didn't move. Not a millimetre.

Still, Mark gave a brief smile again. However, he couldn't completely lie to the man. "Okay. Just want another hand squeeze on this side, think you can do that?"

Unlike his left hand, this one didn't move, even though it was the one uncovered by a brace.

"Derek-" He breathed. This had never happened before. "Can you squeeze my hand? I need to check your hand is okay."

He refused again.

"Derek, can you not move your hand?" He asked again. "It's really bad if you can't move this hand so you need to move it if you can. If you can't, I need to call a doctor right away. Okay? Do you understand? You have to tell me whether I need to get help or not."

He continued to stare at the man for another second before looking to his hand, and then to his legs.

Mark swallowed. "You're saying something. You're trying to tell me something. But...not about your hand."

Derek squeezed his hand now. That told him the answer.

"Pain? Are you in pain?" He guessed.

His lack of response told him no.

"You...you looked at me, then your hand, then-" He paused.

Oh God.

Nothing actually changed in Derek's expression. Not the way his mouth was sat, not the tension in his brow, not where his eyes were looking. Nothing. But Mark could tell that something in him had changed.

Mark swallowed, hard. They were always very brief with Derek about his injuries. He knew he had been hurt a lot, and very badly, but they didn't really bother telling him whether it was a compound fracture or a simple fracture or whether there had been soft tissue involvement or anything like that. And they hadn't really talked about his spine either.

"Do...do you remember, from before, do you-" He paused. "Do you what a spinal cord injury is, Derek?"

The man didn't give any kind of reply before a long, long time before he pulled his hand out of Mark's...and placed it on his chest. He was gesturing to himself. He associated those words with himself.

He bit at his lip. Most people would be able to infer that he asked that question for a reason, but Derek didn't make inferences. He wasn't at that level yet, cognitively. Some days Mark wasn't convinced that he'd ever be at that level.

But if he didn't infer that, it meant he knew.

Which meant every day when Mark and a hundred other concerned doctors asked Derek to wiggle his toes and he couldn't, he knew what that meant.

He knew what not wiggling his toes meant.

He knew.

He freaking knew.

"He was okay when you told him?" Meredith asked, a little surprised.

He swallowed, "I didn't tell him."

"Who did tell him then?"

"He already knew." He said, his throat dry. "I don't know if...he overheard us, or whether he figured his injury out from what we were asking, or whether he remembered from just after that accident, or that he realised he never felt any pain in his legs when he should have, but...I didn't say anything. I asked him if he knew what an SCI was still and he gave me this look. It told me 'yes', but it also- it was like he was telling me that it was okay- that he was okay- that I could be okay."

"And it is okay. And he's okay." She replied before hesitating and asking, "And...you're okay?"

"I'm okay when Derek's okay. And right now, other than his blown-up girlfriend, he's fine."

"You're a really good friend, Dr Sloan. Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"From the sounds of it, he may have gotten you through your childhood and med-school, but you got him through a horrible, life-changing accident. You really did. And I wouldn't have met him if he never recovered and then...we wouldn't be together. I wouldn't have him." She explained. "So thank you. So much. For everything you did for him."

He stared at her for a second before his lips upturned a fraction. "Thank you, too. I didn't think people like you existed. But I'm really freaking glad you do."

"How's the ear?" Derek asked as he heard the front door open, glancing round briefly.

"17dB." She stated, knowing that's what he really wanted to know when he asked.

He smiled. That was pretty good, considering what had happened to her. "Great."

"He said I should get back the other 2 soon enough but, if not, obviously 2dB is not very much so I'll be fine either way." She said as she settled at the table so she could be by him while she cooked.

"Anything else?"

"He said it looked good inside. Good progress and all that."

"So Mark did a good job on the surgery?" He asked as he finally finished what he was doing, and turned around to join her.

"Well he'd say that even if he didn't, wouldn't he? He wouldn't insult his own work."

"Mark did your audiology test?"

She forgot she hadn't mentioned that. She was talking as if he knew. "He said you'd kill him if an idiot did it so he thought he'd do it, just incase."

He smiled. That was kind of him.

"And then we also did some talking. Actually- a lot of talking. I kind of feel bad for anyone who was waiting for that room, they're probably still sat their now."

"What did you talk about?"

"Our common factor."

"And what did you say about me?" He pondered. "Or- what did he say about me?"

"He said that he used to make fun of you when you were a little kid, and you'd turn around and ask him whether he wanted to play with you."

"Oh, the story of our friendship." He muttered. "Mom talks about that often- obviously neither of us remember as we were so young, but it's a cute little story."

"Mmm."

"We also talked about your accident- Mark's side of your accident. How much it sucked, what it was like for you, how guilty he felt."

"Guilty?" He repeated.

"Yeah. You...you mentioned it before- that you thought he felt guilty about the accident and that's why he was so commuted to helping you through recovery." She replied, alarmed by his tone. "That...that is what you said...right?"

"He said that or you said that?"

"I did." She said, her voice really quite slow now.

"You told him?"

"That was a secret?" She asked.

"It- I mean, it wasn't a secret-secret, it was an observation not something that happened that I was lying about or something but- I haven't talked to him about that. I...I haven't asked him about it. Ever. It was just...a working theory."

"Oh-" She breathed, feeling her cheeks flush. "God, Derek, I'm so sorry. He...didn't seem surprised though. I thought he would if you hadn't told him before."

"It...it's okay."

"Are you sure? Because...I'm not sure I'd be okay. Are you sure you're not mad?"

"I've told you this, I don't get mad."

"But you're upset?" She pressed.

"I love you, Meredith. It's okay. People make mistakes. I didn't tell you not to tell him because I didn't imagine you two really having conversations." He replied. "My fault, actually. I'm the one apologising. I was just...surprised."

She swallowed, "You're apologising to me now? I thought I was apologising to you?"

"My mistake, not yours. I should have been more clear."

"Or I should have kept my mouth shut?" She suggested.

"Let me take the blame, Meredith. It's fine. I was just- you know, surpirsed in the short-term. But it's fine."

"Stop saying it's fine." She begged.

"Mer-"

"It's not fine. Because people say it's fine, and then the next day they're not fine and they say the reason is the same thing that yesterday they said was freaking fine. It's your fault again. You just...got a day to feel good."

He didn't reply to that. He couldn't.

"Say something then. Tell me I'm right. Tell me you're actually mad after all because I'd rather have that than lies. Just shout. Please."

"Who did that to you?"

"What?"

"That thing that you just said- you do something wrong, they say it's fine, and then they bring it up later on and beat you with it - who...treated you like that? Who made you think that that was what people do?"

"That's...not what people do?"

"Not people who truly love you. Never. Never, ever, ever."

"You'd never do that?" She asked after a second.

"I just...you have an argument if you want to fight. You-say stuff, then and there." He replied. "If not, you're either in a relationship with bad communication...or one of you - the person who is doing it - is...not a good person. Not a good person at all."

She licked her lips. "So...you're telling the truth? You actually think it's fine?"

He sighed. "I wish your mom treated you better, Mer. I wish you knew how things are supposed to be. I wish you knew...bad lives aren't normal lives."

She swallowed. "Hug now?"

He smiled. "Definitely."

A/N:

Now, from the opening A/N, I know at least a few of you want Love to keep going for many, many 'seasons', and I'm definitely going to write some stuff in the far future, but I'm currently trying to decide whether I want that to be a separate fic, or whether I want to do a few ficlets and one-shots, or whether I want this to just be super long. Any thoughts?