Meredith Grey knew what she was going to do when she woke up. Or rather, she knew what she wasn't going to do when she woke up. She wasn't going to enter the bedroom without knocking, and almost destroy her friendship with Derek Shepherd, like she had done a few weeks ago. She was planning to knock this time. Except, when she woke up, she found that no knocking would be necessary.
There was a ten dollar bill next to her phone, as well as a light blue post-it note that apologized for leaving so early, and said that she should get a taxi or bus to the hospital. At seven in the morning. Seven was early enough to leave, nevermind whenever he left.
So she sighed, and looked up bus times to the hospital.
Meredith was in desperate need of a toothbrush. She'd been in such a rush that she hadn't brushed her teeth yesterday morning because she was disorganised, and didn't have anything to brush them with last night either.
She sighed as she looked around his bathroom. There were bottles lining the edge of the bathtub, a cup with his toothbrush and paste on the side, and a pile of towels ontop of the counter next to the sink, but that was it. She dropped down, and opened the double doors to the cabinet, only for her throat to force a heavy swallow.
There were enough pills to kill off half of Seattle via overdose.
She noted the pack of new toothbrushes, but she didn't even care about that anymore.
She bit her lip, slammed the cupboard's doors closed, and walked away before she let her curiosity get the best of her and investigate why the hell he needed so many pills.
"You- you said you got here early to chart and I don't want to interrupt you from your charting because I know it's important to do and to keep up to date and I get why you always want to do it at a certain time every day because I like doing it at a certain time too because otherwise I'll get behind but I think-"
"Derek. Breathe." She begged as she stood from her desk and walked to him.
He cracked the knuckles on his right hand with his left. "I need to talk."
"You bottled." Dr Sears concluded. She may have wanted to roll her eyes or sigh because she'd told him so many times how damaging that was to his mental health, but she didn't want to make him feel guilty.
"Meredith was upset." He explained as he watched her move to shut the door before returning to stand in front of him. "And I just- I couldn't- I had to be there for her."
"Why was Meredith upset?" She asked with creased brows. She'd heard an awful lot about Meredith in the last few weeks. That meant she got both his loving, sparkly-eyed rambles about how incredible she was, but also all of his stress as he tried to navigate love for the first time since his accident.
"We rescued a dog together last night."
"A dog?" She repeated, surprised. That was the last thing she was expecting him to say.
"It was hit by a car."
She swallowed at that admittance. Now she got it. Meredith was upset because it was a poor trampled dog and she was like any descent person, and Derek's mind had exploded because finding a dog like that had precipitated massive, horrifying levels of anxiety for him. Problem was, despite the fact that Derek's thoughts were worse than Meredith's, he was too nice to ask for help. "You didn't tell her?"
He shook his head.
"So what did you tell her was wrong?"
He shook his head again.
"Words, Derek. You've got to use words." She reminded him. The worse it got, the less he spoke, until he wouldn't say a single word to anyone.
She wasn't a hundred percent sure why he didn't speak when he was overwhelmed. It could be linked to his speech disorder and the fact that it took him more brain power to speak which he just couldn't access when emotions were swirling, or simply that he was a changed man. That didn't, however, mean he didn't feel emotion. He threw things and pushed things over in anger, which wasn't much better, if not worse, than shouting.
He didn't speak for a second, thinking, before answering, "I'm good at hiding how I feel."
"She didn't notice anything at all?"
"She was crying over finding a dog in the road. She had no reason to be worried about me."
"On a scale of one to ten, how worried do you think she should have been? Or should still be, right now?"
He swallowed. "Um- three?"
"How many hours did you sleep last night?" She asked, analysing his dark undereyes and the thick creases of his lower eyelids.
"I...I didn't."
"Panic attack?"
He bit his lip.
A yes, she very quickly concluded. She didn't push him for words this time. "Right. So, on a scale of one to ten, how worried do you think Meredith should have been?" She repeated.
He stared at her for a long moment before lifting both of his hands to her.
She sighed. Derek had spent a very, very long time signing at her like that. "In words, Derek."
He gulped, and coughed out a number. "Six."
"Which means ten."
He didn't reply to that, but she took it as a yes.
"What was it this time?"
"I was um- lying on the floor."
"Waiting for the ambulance?" She guessed with a soft voice.
"I was um-" He looked at his left arm, the one full of scars. "I couldn't feel my arm." He smirked to himself. "Or my legs."
"But arms over legs, right?"
He smiled. It was something they'd come up with a long time ago as part of his plan to be more optimistic. He got to keep use of his most important limbs so that was...something. "Mmm. And um-"
"And?" She pushed when he didn't finish. "Derek?"
"Should I just tell her about it?"
"It being the accident and her being Meredith?" She assumed.
He nodded.
"I'm not going to say yes, but I'm not going to say no either." She paused, and picked her mug up from her desk. "Now, I know you love my metaphors so...this is the average person."
"Right."
She picked up the jug of water that she always put beside her client incase they needed a drink. "And this is you. Now, this mug can hold a serving of coffee. Right now, it's pretty much empty. Meanwhile, this jug can probably fill four or five good cups of water. And right now it's full."
"Okay." He agreed hesitantly.
"You have an excellent capacity for stress, and the mug has a terrible capacity for stress but-"
"But I'm already full of stress." He concluded with a sigh. "And the mug isn't."
"The jug lives it's life on the edge. It's great that it's so big because if it was a mug it would have been put on the psych ward years ago. But, right now, it's living it's life on the edge." She explained.
"I'm a jug."
She nodded. "You're a jug. But you're also a jug with quite the psychological medical history. So when you overflow with stress, it's bad. We both know how bad it can get for you. Now, that's all I'm going to say about Meredith. I think she should know that- well, that you're a jug...but I'm not sure she's going to understand if you can't tell her everything. And, you know, hopefully, one day she'll asked to be your girlfriend, and you'll have to share your life with her. But just remember that includes what happened to you, and what happened afterwards."
"And the girls." He sighed.
"Lily and Rose, yes, she'll need to know about them somewhen." She agreed regretfully, knowing that was the last thing that he wanted to hear. "And that is really damn scary, right?"
He swallowed. "Absolutely terrifying."
"You didn't come home last night."
"Huh?" Meredith asked, not quite catching what she had said.
"I said, you didn't come home last night." Izzie repeated.
"No, I didn't." She agreed.
She didn't speak for a second, expecting an explanation, only to be met with silence. "So- are you going to tell us why?"
Meredith glanced to Cristina, who was tying her hair up on the other side of the locker room, but definitely listening. She knew what the woman was thinking, but she was wrong. Kind of. They hadn't snapped, confessed their love and had sex. They'd just found a poor dog on the side of the road, rescued it, and then sat in a vet's waiting room for quite a few hours. Well, there was also the crying on his lap and the hugging and the hand holding, but she was trying to block that out. "It- it's complicated, Iz."
"But you didn't sleep in a ditch."
She smirked. "No, I didn't sleep in a ditch."
"Just tell us if you getting some or not." Alex said. "You know that's what she was trying to ask, right?"
"I wasn't getting some, no." Meredith sighed. "I slept on a couch. Alone."
"But in someone else's house?" Izzie suggested.
"Well, yes, obviously in someone else's house, seeing as I don't have two." She sighed.
"So, this house- was it your boyfriend's house? We know you have a boyfriend, by the way."
"No. It wasn't my boyfriend's house, because I don't have one. If I did, I'd be sleeping in his bed, wouldn't I?"
Izzie sighed. "Suppose so. Now, are you going to tell me where you were or not?"
"It's a long story. But I...I might not be as home as much as I have been for the last few weeks."
"You haven't been home much for the last few weeks anyway. Now you're going to be home less?" George pointed out.
"Yeah, I know. Now, I'm on neuro today and I've got to-"
"You know Shepherd isn't in today, right?"
"What?" Meredith asked, and she knew she looked around too quickly for Cristina not to roll her eyes or sigh at her behaviour.
Izzie shrugged carelessly, clearly still not catching onto what Cristina had discovered. "I saw Bailey in the elevator today and she mentioned it. Dunno where he is, but you're not on neuro."
"Karev, you're on General-" Bailey started as she walked into the locker room, pausing infront of her interns. "Stevens, you're on Cardio. Yang, pit. O'Malley, you're on paeds. Grey, you're on ortho."
"No neuro?" Meredith couldn't help but ask. She wasn't expecting it for herself, but she was expecting at least one of her friends to get the service.
Bailey shook her head. "No Dr Shepherd means no neuro."
"Why no Dr Shepherd?" Cristina asked as she caught Meredith's eye for a second. Unfortunately, Meredith couldn't quite figure out whether it was meant as a joking gesture or a kind one because she knew Meredith was worried.
"He called in sick, end of story. I know you're not nurses but, please, no gossip. Now, you have your services to get to. Scram!"
"Right, I've got a blown pupil on the left side and the right is sluggish, can someone page Dr Sheph-" Mark paused. He was so used to purposefully requesting Derek, because he knew he was the best. "Page neuro, I mean."
"Dr Sloan-"
He looked up to his intern. "Yeah?"
"Is Dr Shepherd sick?" Meredith inquired. "He didn't seem sick the last time I saw him."
Mark sighed. "It's complicated."
"But is he alright?"
"He's...it's complicated, okay?"
That wasn't okay. That was a crap explanation, if she was being honest. But she couldn't protest, because she wasn't going to confess to whatever they had going on to the man. Presumably, from what Mark had said to her after she observed a CT scan of a hemispherectomy, the two men were discussing dating, and she didn't want to drop any accidental hints.
"You could have just suggested a different restaurant, you know?" Addison sighed from the top of the stairs.
"Too easy." Mark muttered with a smirk, although he was unfortunately joking. He had just been an idiot and not done enough research into where they were going.
Addison stepped back when he reached the top of the stairs, and moved to grab the back of his chair in the hope that it wouldn't tip over when Mark placed Derek there.
"How was that?"
He smirked as he shook his head.
"What do you mean you didn't enjoy me carrying you up the stairs?" Mark exclaimed as he kneeled on the floor in front of him, grabbing the underside of his knees to move them to the footrest.
His grin expanded.
"Seriously though, are you okay? Remember you can tell us the second you want to head back, right?"
His face dropped before he just about managed to push the corners of his lips up. "Yes."
"Now, let's go in, shall we?"
"Milk. Milk. Mill-ck. Mill-ck. Milk. Milk." He swallowed. Tea and coffee were too hot for him and he didn't want either of his friends to have to help him, and fruit juice was too many syllables for him to pronounce. Milk was cold, could be drunk through a straw, and was just two syllables. It was perfect. "Milk."
"Hey, Derek, do you want milk by any chance?" Mark teased, jabbing him jokingly with his elbow.
He snorted. "No."
"Do you want to order your own?" Addison asked, a little worried about what he was going to reply.
He swallowed, then demonstrated, "Milk, please."
"Very nice." She said, smiling. "But are you sure you'll manage it?"
"Yes." He said with a simple nod.
"Just remember that when you-" She tried before being interrupted.
"Hey! Welcome to the Smith's family restaurant, are you ready to order some drinks?"
"Think so." Mark said, eyes flickering between Addison and Derek.
"What would you like?" The man asked, looking to Derek.
Milk.
A cold, two-syllable drink that could be drunk with a straw.
The perfect drink, and the perfect word.
Just milk.
Simple.
It was supposed to be simple.
But he couldn't do this.
He stared at menu, as if it was going to tell him what to do, as he felt the stare's intensity grow. He was a jolly, smiling, kind-faced man, but it didn't feel like that.
He couldn't do this.
It was so simple. All he had to do was form the letter M. But he didn't know how to do that. Not anymore.
He. Couldn't. Do. This.
"Milk?" Addison suggested, squeezing his hand.
"Righty-oh." He agreed with a smile, not at all bothered by Derek's complete falter. "Would that be semi-skimmed or whole?"
He shook his head.
"You don't want milk anymore?" Addison assumed. "That's okay, you can get something else. How about apple juice, or maybe just some-" She paused as he just kept shaking his head. "Do you not want a drink anymore?"
"Just um- cancel the order. We'll go. I'm so sorry." Mark said as he stood from his seat. He didn't even watch to see if the waiter left. "Derek, do you want to go back?"
The shaking finally stopped, and he nodded just once.
"Okay. That's okay. This was a big step, remember?"
He shook his head once as his eyes sparkled, lip being bitten into in the hope that it wouldn't tremble.
"Yes, Derek. This is big. This is the first time you've been out of rehab. This is really big. And it's okay that you want to go back. That's absolutely fine, okay? We'll just drive you back and have lunch in your room like we normally do, right? It's completely fine."
He closed his eyes, and continued to shake his head.
He didn't like it here, in the outside word.
Rehab was so easy. The walls were light, the decoration were simple, the people were quiet, the lights were dim, the doctors were understanding and patient, and there was never any pressure. It was bland and boring and repetitive, but that meant it was understimulating, which was perfect. And, most importantly, he could breakdown, and it would be okay.
He was allowed to cry, and he was allowed to throw things and, if he had the capacity to, he would be allowed to shout as well. But he couldn't do any of that in a restaurant.
It was quiet now, and the radio playing at the counter could actually be heard for the first time since the bustling restaurant had opened.
He was so glad about that, until he opened his eyes again and realized what had silenced them.
Him.
A grown man on the border of tears and a panic attack at the local diner.
He was what silenced the restaurant.
There were so many eyes. A whole family. A young couple on a date. An old man by himself. A woman sat with her baby. They were all just looking at him. And the more they stared, the thicker the tears in his eyes got and the hotter his cheeks got and the harder it was to breathe.
He couldn't do any of this. He couldn't even leave rehab safety with his two best friends. He couldn't do anything.
So he just shut his eyes again, and preyed the world would be better when he opened them again.
"Do you remember when me and Addie took you out of rehab for the first time?" Mark asked as he sat on the bottom of the Derek's bed. He was hoping the man had gone to bed early, but there was a very real possibility that he had just spent the whole day there. "You were still a patient but they said you could go out for an hour or two as long as you were supervised."
He swallowed. "You think I'd forget that?"
"You stopped talking after that."
"I couldn't talk then."
He didn't respond for a second. That was a very good point. "In the car, you didn't say a word. When we got back, you didn't say a word. You didn't do speech therapy for three days because you wouldn't speak to anyone. You wouldn't even sign sometimes."
"The point?" Derek sighed.
"You didn't phone me. When you don't communicate, everything goes to hell, and you didn't phone me. You've been lying in bed for- how long, and you didn't phone me."
"I went to Sears." He offered, hoping it would make him a little less mad.
"And I'm proud. So proud. But I need to know when you're not okay, alright?"
He swallowed. "Mark."
"Yeah?"
"I'm not okay."
"Hey. If you don't want to answer the door, that's fine. But just- I'm worried about you. You haven't been to work for two days now and I know you don't have any days off so just-" She sighed. "I'm gonna wait for a few minutes, but then I'm going to go, okay? Answer the door if you want, but I know sometimes people just need space so...whatever you want to do is fine."
Nothing.
She sighed, and was just about to walk away when the door clicked. She spun on her heels to turn back to the door.
"I am a jug."
"You're a what now?" Meredith asked, eyebrows creasing.
"I am a jug of water. I hold an awful lot of stress in - more than people who are mugs - but I'm a full jug. Full of stress and trauma. And I have or...had, maybe- I think some of them I still have and some I don't but- um- post-traumatic-stress-disorder, and anxiety, and depression, and social anxiety disorder and- look- I'm just really messed up. I was so embarrassed about the AOS that I couldn't look anyone in the eye or talk to anyone, and I used to just cry all the time, and I could never stop thinking and- I have these nightmares and flashbacks when things get bad."
She didn't speak for a long moment, just staring at him.
"You can leave now you know I'm loopy, by the way."
She continued to stare for a second before sniggering. "God, I'm sorry. Don't mean to laugh."
"You're laughing at-"
"I was trying to come up with some really sweet way to say that everything you just said was fine and what I thought of just sounded super dirty-" She explained through giggles. "And now I've just totally ruined like everything."
He smirked. She was so awkward, but he freaking adored it.
"I was going for like- I will remove the water from your jug so you're not so full but drinking your water sounds vaguely dirty for some reason. But I...I just-" She paused. "God, you know what I mean. I'm saying...I'm saying I still want to be your friend. I'm saying I don't think you're loopy. But I'm also saying I'd like to help you remove some of that loopyness if I can."
His smile expanded.
"And I think before I met you I was a full jug. But I think after meeting you, I'm a slightly less full jug."
Then they both laughed, because neither of them knew what the hell they were talking about.
