Thanks so much for the follows/favourites and reviews! This was going to be a 3-parter, but it may be 4 or 5 chapters now as I've added in some drama that I wasn't planning to put in this when I started.
Anyway, as always, enjoy! :)
"Hello?"
"It's open!" A voice called from the other side of the door.
Meredith opened the door to find the last thing she expected to see. Derek, still in his pyjamas. "You're not ready?" She asked, half confused and half outraged.
He smiled as he shook his head. "Nope."
"You said to pick you up at ten-to-six for a six-thirty start. I start at six-thirty too!"
"I know. I don't have any work today."
"Then why did you ask me to pick you up?"
"Because you eat leftovers for breakfast, and we all know it's the most important meal of the day, and my house is between yours and the hospital, so I made the conclusion that a quick pit-stop for some breakfast wouldn't hurt." He explained.
"You-" She started, only to realize her brain wasn't quite ready to speak. "You told me to come here to give me breakfast?"
"As a thanks for last night."
"I ate your popcorn and most of your chocolate, that was the thanks."
"I know. But you really freak me out with by eating cold pizza for breakfast. I assume you like pancakes. Are there people out there who don't?" He asked as he gestured to the side of the kitchen near the oven.
She approached, and he could see the smile spread her face at the sight of them. "Jesus, you cook."
"They have this cooking and baking class in rehab for people who have forgot or who had to relearn motor functions, but I never actually learnt to cook, because I didn't have time with med school and all. So now I know. Not really how I would have liked to have learnt, but I have to say they are good pancakes. I have syrup, and some other stuff. What do you want on top?"
She smiled. "The uh- lemon saucy stuff if you have it. Don't worry if you don't."
"Well, I don't have any 'lemon saucy stuff', whatever that is, but I can turn the plain pancake into a sugar and lemon pancake, if that's what you're trying to request."
She giggled and rolled her eyes. "Yes, fine."
"Anyone want another drink?"
"Why do you keep offering to bring us drinks?" Addison couldn't help but ask as she watched Mark stand.
"Honestly?" He asked before smiling. "There's a hot chick by the bar, and every time I go, I get one step closer to sleeping with her."
Derek chuckled. He should have guessed that. "Of course."
"You're just jealous."
"You know I'm not." He replied honestly.
"You still planning on doing that whole dying-alone-because-I'm-a-cripple thing then?"
"Don't call him that." Addison said, treading hard on his foot and making him wince. She would have jabbed him in the ribs, but he'd already stood.
"It's fine-" Derek reassured her. Mark was one of the few people he'd accept that kind of language from. "-and yes. I do still plan on doing that."
"You have plenty to offer, you know." She returned with a smile. They'd dated in med school briefly, but didn't stay together. There wasn't anything wrong with him, he just wasn't right for her, but she knew he would be for someone out there. Problem was, he had cut himself out of the dating world.
Derek was glad, in a lot of ways, that him and Addison split because, although it certainly hurt her to have to sit with him in hospital and help him through rehabilitation, she didn't have the commitment of a girlfriend. As a doctor, he knew how many relationships fell apart in the face of trauma, and he was glad to still have her as a good friend.
"It's not about what I have to offer, it's about what I have to...hinder. I know I'm wildly attractive-" Derek said, making the pair smirk. "-but I just...I don't think it's the best idea."
"You think you're going to survive the next like- forty years without falling for someone once? What if someone likes you? If someone asked you out, what would you say? What if they were like- the most perfect person ever?"
He swallowed. What if this, what if that. They were saying all of these things as if they were years away. But the real question was what was he supposed to do now, when he'd found someone his heart loved, but his brain wouldn't let himself be with? "I don't know. I just..."
Neither of the pair reacted for a good five seconds when Derek abruptly stopped talking, assuming he was just struggling to express his feelings, but did when the silence went on for too long.
"You okay?"
Derek smacked Earth with a thud when he landed back on it. If he could speak to who he had been staring at, he would have said he was pretty sure he was in heaven before that, seeing as he was watching an angel. That would have made her do that little giggle thing he loved so much. "What- uh- yeah. Fine."
"Are you sure?" Addison asked, concerned.
"I'm sure." He said, as his eyes slid over from her face, to the person he really wanted to watch.
"Who we looking at?" Mark asked as he finally realized why he had zoned out.
"No one. Nothing. We're not looking at anyone."
Mark turned back round to him with an open mouth. Derek Shepherd had a crush. "Dude, you literally just said that you weren't doing relationships and here you are, creepily staring at a-"
"I wasn't looking at anyone!" He exclaimed.
"At least tell me she's one of the hot ones." He pleaded as he glanced back over to the general direction he had seen his friend looking in. There were seven, maybe eight women in that area.
"I'm not doing relationships or- I'm just- I'm not. So it doesn't matter."
"But you do like someone?"
He sighed as he submitted; they were going to keep pressuring him until he spoke, and he knew he'd tell them eventually. "So what if I do?"
"Does she like you?"
"I uh- I think so. It's been a while since I've had to figure it out though." He admitted.
"How is she with the rest of it?"
"I make lots of jokes. I don't know why I do it so much around her but...it makes her laugh." He smiled at the thought of her. "And then she started making jokes too. So...I think a serious talk would freak her out, but she can do the jokes."
"Jeez, not the jokes." Mark sighed. "How did you get a girl with your stupid, stupid jokes, and I haven't slept with anyone in two whole days. Do they actually work?"
"On her, I guess." He shrugged.
"So she probably likes you, and you definitely like her, and she's- well, okay with the chair, and could feel better about it if you were more open. So, what do you want to do?"
"What do I want to do?" He repeated, confused.
"If you don't want to date because of the chair, but she's okay with it, what's stopping you from being in a relationship with her?"
He sighed. That was a good question. "Supposedly...nothing."
"Ah, Dr Grey. You got those labs?" Mark asked as she walked into the radiology room, chart in hand.
"Yeah." She agreed as she passed the chart over. Her eyes very quickly left him to glance to the other doctor in the room, and the scan he was looking at. "Woah. Half a brain!"
Derek smiled as he looked over at her, as if he'd only just noticed she was in the room. In reality, it took every last fibre of strength he had not to turn around the second Mark said her name. "Mmm mmm."
"That's so cool, did you do that?"
"This morning. A two-year-old with Rasmussen's encephalitis. The empty half will fill with cerebral-spinal-fluid, and, since she's still a kid, the functions on the half removed will relocate due to neuroplasticity. She should function pretty normally after a little bit of recovery."
"Jesus." She sighed. "It's cool, but that poor kid."
"See, that I would get." Mark muttered, breaking the pair's moment.
"What?" Derek asked, confused.
"If you had a boyfriend who had seizures every five minutes and you had to live your life in constant fear and go to the hospital like everyday, I would get that. I mean, surely you couldn't have any kind of intimacy."
"Mark-" He sighed.
"Dr Grey, you date men, right?"
"Not currently but- yes, I'm straight." She answered, supposing that was what he was asking.
"So, if you found the most perfect man for you ever, obviously you'd want to be with him, right?"
She swallowed. If she did. As if she hadn't already. "Yeah."
"But there's a catch. He's paralyzed from the waist down, so therefore cannot walk."
"Right." She just about coughed out as she felt her heart beat a little quicker in her chest. Now she was the one who was so desperately trying not to look at him.
"Would you still want to be with him? Because Derek is convinced he's going to die lonely and sad-"
"Mark-" Derek tried to interrupt.
"And I think he's wrong. I think he just hasn't found the right woman yet. So, if Derek was your perfect man-"
She swallowed.
"-would you date him?"
"Uh-" was all she could manage.
"Dr Grey, you don't need to answer that. It's inappropriate."
"Derek-" Mark sighed.
"You can't ask interns - any of your colleagues even - that kind of question. I know you're desperate to prove your point, but that isn't what Meredith is here for. I imagine she's here for a patient, which both of you should go and see."
Mark sighed as he straightened himself up from the table he had been leaning against, and headed out the door, Meredith trailing after him. She flashed a quick smile on the way out, as a thanks for an escape from the conversation. The problem was, she didn't know the answer. If she said no, then she'd be lying and Derek would think that she didn't like him. But if she said yes, that could imply that he wasn't her perfect man as they weren't yet together, which was not at all the impression she wanted to give.
"Hello."
"You're here before me." He noted as he shut the on-call room door behind him.
She smiled. "I am. Surgery finished a little early so I headed straight here."
He smiled back as he paused by the bed, then passed Meredith his lunch.
"What's it like?" She asked with a tilted head as she watched him grasp one leg and move it, then the other.
He looked up from his legs. "What's what like?"
"Like- not being able to control your legs." She elaborated, her voice small. She had kind of blurted her first question, and now felt a little bad. She knew she was allowed to ask questions - he'd reassured her of that - but she never felt very confident when she did.
"First of all, weird." He said as he moved to the bed to sit besides her. "And also really, really freaking annoying."
She smirked. "Can only imagine."
"Now I get to ask you a question, why are you on my bed?" He asked as he got into his regular position. Normally, Meredith would sit on the chair next to the bed, and he'd take it, because it was important to change how and where he was sitting as often as possible, seeing as that was all he ever did. The bed was soft, and he could prop himself up with pillows rather than forcing his back to have to support his upper body for twelve hours a day. He'd done it every lunch break since returning to surgery, but only just started having a friend to talk to him while he did so.
"There's room for both of us."
"There's not."
"If I just-" She picked up his feet, and put them on her lap. "There we go. Now we both fit."
He smirked, and rolled his eyes. "Just give me my lunch." He sighed.
She chucked him the box of salad before returning to her own lunch. "So if I get a question and then you get a question, is it my turn again?"
He shrugged. "Sure."
"Why don't you tell people what happened to you?"
His eyebrows creased. "Why do you ask?"
"Someone was talking about you- not in a bad way, don't worry but- he just asked me if I knew why. I said no clue but just...it got me wondering why." She explained. "Oh- and who, actually."
"As for the who, anyone who knew me before knows how."
"Does anyone that you've met since know?" She couldn't help but ask.
"Nope."
"So I shouldn't feel that rejected then?" She asked with a smirk.
He shook his head.
"Is it because you did something stupid and it's embarrassing?"
He snorted. "No."
"Are you sure?" She pressed with a teasing smirk.
He smiled. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Can you tell me when if you can't tell me why?" She pondered. Through her month of detective skills, she'd concluded that he was definitely able-bodied once in his life (although she had no idea whether that was from age zero to ten, or zero to thirty) and that whatever happened injured more than just his spine, so therefore wasn't something like a spinal stroke or tumour.
"Four-hundred-and-seventy-six days ago."
Her eyebrows couldn't help but ascend at the answer. "Specific."
"I count." He explained.
"Do you have a tally chart on your wall? Like a prisoner?" She teased.
"It helps me be grateful for every extra day I've had." He said with a simple smile.
She stared at him for a second, speechless. She was making jokes, and he'd replied by saying something that she could tell meant something to him. "I thought you were a rock, but you're more of a hard-shell, soft-middle guy, huh?"
"I do not have a soft middle."
"Are you sure?" She asked. "Because that sounded a little bit too...poetic for you to be one of those cold, stone-faced men."
"I'm sure."
"What if the person you're talking to is super nice and hot?"
"Why would that matter? Besides, I'm not around anyone nice or hot right now-" He started, pausing when she chucked a pillow his way with enough force go almost (pillows couldn't do that much damage no matter the force) hurt. "No hitting the guy in the chair!"
"Okay, what happened to you not milking it?"
He sighed, but was also smiling. "Let's just go back to what we were talking before."
"Oh, yes, please." Meredith muttered hopefully. "You were just about to tell me about what happened to you."
He chuckled. "I wasn't. I distinctly remember telling you that I don't tell people I've met since."
"Fine. How..." She paused, thinking. "How many days were you in hospital?"
"What are you going to do, research the average amount of time spent in hospital for each injury and figure out which one I had?" He teased.
"Derek-" She prodded.
"Okay, okay. I was in hospital for ninety-seven days."
"Three months." She quickly calculated.
"And rehab for two-hundred-and-twenty-four."
She didn't even want to calculate that in months. "That's a lot of days to spend away from home."
"Tell me about it." Derek smirked. Lots of the time when he made jokes, they were just for the sake of making jokes, but that was definitely one that he had made to hide the trauma of it all. Those three-hundred-and-twenty-one days were the worst of his life. Specifically, he supposed, the first few days after he woke up, barely able to comprehend what was going on, nevermind move or communicate with all the people waiting at his bedside.
"Hey, how old are you?" Meredith asked abruptly as their smiles from their last exchange died off.
"Thirty-five." He answered, eyebrows creasing. "Why do you ask?"
She smirked. "Oh- I thought you might give it in days."
Then they both laughed, before both of their pagers exploded with beeps. "Well that's our lunch ruined."
"See you tonight though, right?" He asked as she stood, and headed to the door.
"Yeah, see you tonight." She agreed as she headed out the door, and disappeared.
"Dr Grey-" A voice called to the five interns huddled in the locker room.
The named intern looked round to see her resident stood in the doorway, hands crossed over her chest. "Yes, Dr Bailey?"
"Can I have a word?"
She swallowed as she turned back to her friends. Half had a what's-going-on? look, while the other had a ooh-you're-in-trouble look.
"Meredith?" She called when she didn't move.
She sighed and hurried out the room. Bailey shut the door after her, and noted that the corridor was empty, just as she wanted.
"I believe you were there when I told you and your friends that relationships with co-workers were frowned upon, and, if you're stupid enough to let them happen, they should be reported immediately to the chief?"
"Uh- yeah, I was-"
"I presume you have reported your relationship to the chief then?"
"My relationship with who?" Meredith asked, confused.
"Yesterday at lunch. You were in an on-call room with Dr Shepherd. When you left, you said see you tonight. I was stood there Dr Grey, I saw it all. And I saw him leave just after you, then go in the other direction."
"We're not in a relationship. Me and Derek, we're not-"
"Dr Shepherd." She corrected. "He's your boss, you call him by his surname."
"Me and Dr Shepherd are not in a relationship." She corrected, mentally rolling her eyes. Derek was perfectly happy with her calling him by his first name.
"You've never had sex?" She asked, despite how uncomfortable saying that made her.
"No."
"You've never kissed him?"
"No. We eat lunch together. That's what we were doing in the on-call room."
"Eating lunch?" She repeated, unimpressed.
"Because of his SCI, he eats lunch in there so he can relax for a little bit on a bed. I thought he might be lonely like- a week ago. And we talked about neuro and stuff, so now I do it every day. It's not a big deal."
"You're-" She stopped, eyebrows creasing. She was so sure. "You're not together?"
"No, Dr Bailey. We are just friends. And, if we weren't, I would have, as you have said twice now, reported it to the chief."
"Right." She breathed. "Grey."
"Yes, Dr Bailey."
"If you do like him-"
"Which I don't-" She interrupted, presuming she was going to get another scolding.
"Don't tell him unless you're sure."
"Sure of what?"
She sighed. "I don't want an intern dating an attending because it's messy and confusing and terrible but- if you like him and he likes you, don't- don't hurt him. He's been through so much in the last-"
"Four hundred and seventy-two days." Meredith interrupted with a grin.
"Mmm." She agreed. Clearly, he'd got to Meredith with his stupid numbers too. "So just...if you're serious, you've got to mean it. You've got to be ready to handle everything that being with him would entail."
"I thought you said I wasn't allowed to date him?" Meredith said pointedly.
"I'm not encouraging you too but- Grey, I had- I don't know, somewhere just after four-hundred days of him being a mess. He was good at hiding it, good at shoving on a smile, but he was a total mess. What he went through was horrible, and traumatic, and depressing and- I wouldn't have survived it. But he did. And he's been a lot better recently but...I can't help but notice that he's been quite a lot happier since around the time you joined."
Meredith swallowed. She knew Derek struggled, but had imagined him to be the same happy-go-lucky guy he was today before he met her. Of course, she never knew any different.
"So, in conclusion. Ruin him, and I'll ruin you. Are we clear?"
Her eyebrows couldn't help but lift as this completely new, soft and protective Bailey bounced abruptly back to the one she had been since she met the woman. "Uh- yes, Dr Bailey."
"Great. Now, go and get the other suck-ups for me, we've got rounds."
"Meredith?" He reached the hand opposite her across his body, as she was resting against the other, and tapped her a few times. "Meredith, are you awake?"
No response.
"Meredith?" He muttered again. Their show had finished, and he was interested in the next, while she clearly wasn't. That or she was tired. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if she just passed out of exhaustion; being an intern was hard work. He sighed and smiled at her.
Still nothing.
"Okay, sleepy head. You can stay." He sighed, still smiling.
He did his best to remove himself from the sofa without waking her and, by some miracle, she was still snoozing when he looked back at her from his chair. He readjusted her blanket and did his best to make her as comfortable as she could be before switching off the TV and light, and heading to his bedroom.
She bolted upright the second she realized. For a while, she was half-asleep, rolling around in the warmth that the fluffy blanket she was engulfed in had created. Then she wasn't, when her eyes focused and analysed where she was. This wasn't her bedroom, or her lounge, or even her kitchen or bathroom. This wasn't her house at all.
"Derek?" She called out into the darkness.
Nothing.
She fumbled around the table before she felt her hand grasp her phone. 11:17. Not dreadful, but not great either. She turned her flashlight on before heading to the only door in the whole bungalow. Well, one of two, knowing he had an en-suit past his bedroom.
"Derek, I'm so sorry, I fell to sleep on your couch and I-"
Crap.
Now falling asleep didn't seem like such a bad thing.
"Naked!" She exclaimed as she practically sprinted out the room before slamming the door. "You are naked. I am so sorry. I am so sorry! Oh my god!"
"Hey, hey-" She heard his voice call in that soft, soothing voice that made her heart beat a little faster whenever she heard it. It wasn't that it wasn't soothing; it was just so soothing that it made her love him a little more every time she heard it. The door opened. "I'm shirtless, not naked. It's okay."
Her eyes slowly dropped to his bottom half to find pyjama bottoms. It wasn't that she had specifically seen his lower half, she'd just seen skin and ran the second she did.
"Right." She sighed, feeling her breathing equal out. "Well, I um-" She paused when her eyes really focused on him.
At first, it was his shaped figure that made her trail off. Then, the scars. One down the midline of his chest, two on the right side of his ribs, one on the left, one down his stomach, one across the right side of his stomach, one across his right shoulder.
As she pulled her eyes away, and focused back on his face, she could see that his heart had broken.
"Derek-" She sighed.
"Leave." He instructed as he turned around, heading for his wardrobe.
"No, please, Derek, I didn't-"
"Leave, Meredith."
Of course she was planning on leaving in just a few minutes anyway, but she didn't think it would be like this. She thought they'd leave with a few jokes about how stupid she'd been for falling asleep, and now he was kicking her out. "I'm going but, Derek, your scars-"
"I said leave!" He snapped as he turned round to her, t-shirt in his lap. He didn't have time to put it on, but that didn't matter. He'd already his seen his torn, broken body...as well as agreeing that it was torn and broken.
He hadn't been shirtless nor worn shorts outside or in the presence of anyone expect his mother and Mark since he had gained the twenty-odd scars across his body. Even short-sleeved t-shirts, like scrub shirts, put him on edge because it put the scars across his forearm and elbow on display. He showed as little skin as possible, and always had his hair on the longer side to cover the scar down his neck and across his skull. It was irrational, and stupid - he'd been told that a hundred times by his therapist - but they just weren't something he'd ever stop being embarrassed by.
He thought about it before he opened the door, but his mind dismissed it instantly. This was Meredith, Meredith was kind and lovely and she wouldn't dream of judging him because of them.
Except she did.
She looked at them, and he could see the...disgust. He hated them too. He thought they were disgusting too. But he was just hoping that maybe one day someone would change that, and that the someone who would change that would be Meredith. But it wouldn't be, because she was just as repelled by them as he was. He despised them all. He desperately wished he could change that fact, but the one woman who he so desperately sought validation from had agreed. It was...he was disgusting.