He'd heard that it was a doctor in the room. He saw everyone rush into the room one by one and there was a tug in his chest that told him he needed to go in there. A tug that told him that something was wrong and he needed to find…
No. He couldn't. The last time they had worked together had ended…badly. It ended with blame and pointed fingers. With yelling and screaming and tense smiles when he picked up the kids from her house.
So he'd made a choice. And she seemed to approve of it.
They would no longer work together. He would no longer answer her pages and she would no longer answer him. It was done. Their relationship- if there was any- would be strictly about the kids. Nothing more.
So when Ben Warren had approached him and said Dr. Grey needed a consult, he'd simply sighed.
"Did you try Dr. Shepherd?"
"Well, that's why I'm coming to you-"
"No, I meant Amelia," Derek shook his head, "Page her. Unless it's urgent and presenting with signs-"
"Dr. Shepherd-"
"Or Nelson," Derek opened a different trauma room before leaning in to quietly remind him, "You know I can't work with her. Find someone else."
Ben never looked for him again. So he went off with Hunt for another patient. And then another for Bailey.
Some time had passed and he spotted Hunt from the corner of his eyes rush into a trauma room. Then Webber.
And then he'd heard the whispers.
He just never imagined that it would be her on the table.
Derek's phone rang with a page from Hunt.
And everything changed.
There was chaos as soon as he entered. Everyone- Hunt, Kepner, Karev, Webber, interns- was hovering over the patient.
"Alright, I'm here what's-"
He froze in his place and stared at the person he was meant to heal.
This was bad. This was very bad.
"Force blunt trauma to the head and neck," Owen began, turning toward him. He hesitated, sympathy flickering across his face, "It's- it's her. I'm sorry I thought you knew. A patient was postictal and...Look Amelia is in surgery otherwise-"
The rest of Owen's explanation faded into static. It all went in through one ear and out the other. There was a piercing ringing noise he could hear and suddenly the figures around her blurred. All he saw was a woman, with red toenails, short ash blonde hair, a swollen knee, a battered face, in distress, and in pain.
"Meredith," Derek whispered, almost to himself, "That's-that's-"
"Derek?" Richard's voice grounded him back to the present, "Derek!"
The command snapped him back to the present. He blinked, forcing himself to focus.
He couldn't be her… ex-husband. Meredith Grey needed him to be her doctor and needed his help. And damned he'd be if he didn't try to take away the pain. Not when he already hurt her enough.
Still the screams and moans she released were painful to hear.
Derek shoved his coat off after pulling out his light pen and approached her. Her eyes widened as he hovered over her. Her green eyes locked on him, wide and desperate.
Richard shook his head, "Derek, you can't- she's your-"
"Hunt just said Amelia was in surgery, I'm here, I'm doing this," he yelled back as he angrily looked up. He scowled at Richard before his face softened towards Meredith, her green eyes implored him to help her, "Hey, you're gonna be alright okay? I got you. Follow my finger."
Her green eyes tracked him. Her left eye was red and swollen. She'd taken a blow to the head and he could hear how painful it was with every groan she released.
And she was terrified. He recognized that look from every nightmare he once woke her up from.
Behind him, voices clamored. Owen shouted about her creatinine levels. Maggie mentioned a chest tube. Someone handed off scans, and the room filled with urgent analysis.
But Derek's attention stayed locked on Meredith. Her bruised face, her battered body. The way her lips trembled in pain.
It's awful. Every bit of this is awful.
Meredith Grey was on the table. A patient has hurt her in unspeakable ways. There's bruises on her face, her arms, and her legs. She's groaning loudly and there's blood splattered on her brow bone.
"She needs a chest tube," Maggie ordered, "It's gonna sting but she needs it."
"You can't work on your family!" Richard insisted.
"Everyone in this room is her family!" Alex yelled.
He watched as everyone invaded her body to save her and tried to blink away the tears that blurr his vision.
He needed to focus. He needs to get her back to their children.
His children need their mother. Zola needs her soothing voice and Bailey needs her warm hugs.
And Derek…
He's her ex-husband. He's not supposed to need her. But he does.
He clicked his lamp pen off and blinked quickly.
"No-no, evidence of, um, traumatic brain injury. No-no focal deficits-", Derek swallowed a lump formed in his throat. He knows everyone in the room can sense his unusual lack of self-confidence. Still he tries. He has to try. He owes that to her, "M-M-Meredith move your fingers."
There's no response.
That's not good.
"Meredith, move your toes."
She doesn't.
That's not good at all.
Derek could feel the blood rush from his face as he desperately scanned her body for any signs.
It's covered in blood and marks that'll be bruises within hours.
"Meredith, move something!" Derek shouted, his desperation boiling over.
His heart stopped. He missed something. He's sure he's missed something.
And knowing that he's missed something is killing him. He grabbed the penlight once more.
"That doesn't make sense! She responded to the painful stimulus!" Alex shouted back.
He turned to Alex and paused for a second. It's possible. He dropped the penlight and reached for her, placing both his hands on either side of her head, forcing her eyes to meet his.
"Mer! Mer can you-"
Her groans were muffled and her tears ran down her face. And then it struck him. It struck him like lightning and everything was worse than he imagined.
"You're right," Derek looked up, "She can't hear us."
Jackson looked up, "What?"
"Are you sure?" Jackson pushed him away to get closer to her.
Ben shouted something about her pulse-ox. It was dropping and they were wasting time. She needed surgery. She needed to breathe.
Derek's mind raced.
This was Meredith Grey on the table.
This was his ex-wife.
The mother of his children.
The love of his life.
Jackson pushed him away and Derek couldn't help the way her eyes panic when he disappeared from her eyesight.
Jackson checked her ears and shouted, "I-I see evidence of Barotrauma possibly from the blows. I think you're right-"
"What are you gonna do?" Derek asked. Desperation laced in his voice.
"Her jaw is locked," Jackson continued his evaluation, "There's a possible dislocation here, possible fracture-"
"You need to get a tube in," Maggie mumbled nervously, "You have to preserve her airway or you'll have to trache her-"
He watched as Jackson's mind raced. A part of him wanted to grab him and yell again. Derek needed to know. He needed to know that Meredith was going to be fine one way or another.
She'd been through enough.
Bombs. Drowning. Shootings. Plane crashes. Storms. Heartbreak.
She'd gone through so much heartbreak. So much loneliness. So much pain.
She needed….peace.
"If- if we can reduce the dislocation we can probably get her mouth open long enough to get a tube in," Jackson explained, "We're gonna have to pop her jaw open."
"What?" Derek snapped.
"If we don't want to-"
"You're gonna have to pop her jaw," Derek echoed as he turned to her. His hand gently caressed her temple as if it would suddenly fix everything, "It's gonna hurt like hell. She's gonna hurt like hell."
Jackson swallowed, "It's gonna hurt like hell."
The sounds she released were unforgettable. And he can't do much but watch as she's taken to the O.R. with everyone racing behind her.
But his job is done. There was no evidence of traumatic brain injury and no evidence of paralysis. A neurosurgeon is not needed.
And he's not her husband. He's not her next of kin. He cannot be in there.
Still, Derek waited outside the O.R. They're long hours and he doesn't leave for one second. Not to eat. Not for water. Not to check on his children.
He picked at the skin around his thumb as he sat on the disgusting floor of the OR hallway. Surgeons walked by and no one bothered to ask. They quickly glanced at the doors and shuffled down to their destination.
Alex stopped by and stared into the door before turning to Derek, "If you want-"
"I'm gonna wait," Derek shook his head.
"Look Shepherd," Alex rubbed the back of his neck, "If you want to go check on the kids-"
"Alex," Derek snapped, his jaw tightening, "I am not leaving."
Alex exhaled sharply, shifting his weight. Derek knew he meant well. He understood why Alex was offering to relieve him—he was Meredith's person now, the way Cristina had once been. He'd helped Meredith move out of the home Derek had built for their family. He'd delivered messages on her behalf, even when Derek knew Alex hated it.
"I know," Alex sighed with resignation.
They both waited in silence until Alex was paged to the ER for a trauma. He stayed until Richard Webber finally emerged from the O.R. Derek scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest.
"How is she?"
"Stable," Richard sighed, "We're about to take her back up to the ICU."
"Good," Derek swallowed a lump in his throat as he looked down at his feet, "That's- that's-"
"Derek?"
He looked up to meet Richard's gaze.
"I had a resident look through her file. I know it's complicated with how messy the divorce was-"
"Richard-"
"But there's something you should know."
"What? What is it?"
"You have her power of attorney," Richard says, "She designated you as the person who would help her…She'll be under for a while. And there's a chance that you'll have to make some decisions. I thought you should know."
She opened her eyes to the bright fluorescent lights of what she was sure was the hospital. Meredith squinted her eyes and looked around the room and spotted the blurry shape of Callie's body.
She smiled. Her mouth moved but nothing came out.
Realization settled upon her. She couldn't hear anything. Maybe temporarily and maybe not.
Meredith stared at Callie as she adjusted to the pain and soreness of her body. She smiled once more and continued with her work, carefully cutting the casts surrounding her arm.
He tilted her head slightly and spotted another figure. She blinked slowly until her vision cleared a little only to recognize the man hovering over a tablet.
Derek looked nothing like his usually composed self dressed in neat trousers and pressed shirt. Instead, he wore a pair of overworn jeans and a gray sweatshirt, his hair slightly disheveled as if he had run his hand through it many times. He glanced her way and quickly made his way towards her.
She watched as he opened the sliding door and moved his lips before making his way to the bed.
But she didn't want to see more. So she felt around for the PCA pump she knew was next to her and pressed on the button.
And let the world go black.
The next time she saw the fluorescent lights, they're less bright. Someone has dimmed them. She slowly tilts her head again to see Richard and Derek shouting at each other by the nurses station.
Still, she can't hear them. And they're far too out of sight to try to read their lips.
She stared until she saw another figure step into the room. Alex. He smiled before he reached for her hand.
He said something and she could barely register what he was saying. Something about Derek. And not leaving. Something about kids. Maybe her kids? Richard, pushing, and leave are the next words she was able to decode.
Then it registers. Richard is pushing Derek to leave to see the kids.
Derek was fighting back.
But Richard was right. Derek needed to see the kids. Their kids.
She turned to Alex again and made out another set of words. Doesn't and leave.
He doesn't leave.
She glanced at the glass doors and noticed that he's still dressed in the same clothes she last saw him in. And she knew it had been days since she last woke because the gauze she once felt around her jaw is gone.
She wanted to ask Alex to send Derek home. The kids needed him now more than ever and she'd be fine.
But the thought of Derek not being there when she woke up next made her chest ache more.
So she presses the pump again. And fades into darkness once more.
She still can't hear the third time she's awake.
She reached for the pump again because her body ached more than usual but there's nothing there for her to grab.
And the once still fluorescent lights are moving. No, she was the one moving.
Meredith blinked and realized that she was no longer in her room, she was moving.
She glanced until she made out a blue scrub cap. It's adorned with ferryboats and waves and is hiding salt and peppered hair. She can see the overgrown curls peeping under it and then he turns.
Derek smiled and reached for her hand. He squeezed it gently and continued to hold it until the bed made an abrupt stop.
Callie stood next to him and she had the stupid smile she'd slowly come to resent. Owen stood on the opposite side and she could see the sympathy in his stupid eyes.
They smiled at her and said something. Something she didn't care about because she didn't even try to make out what they said.
When they walked away, Derek squeezed his hand gently once more. His blue eyes met hers but his mouth didn't move. He simply grazed his thumb over her hand, and pressed his lips against her temple.
She didn't press a pump this time, she simply watched him disappear when the OR doors closed behind her.
And she'd never felt so alone.
Derek was buried in paperwork when the door to his office swung open, revealing Meredith. Her jaw was set, her shoulders squared, and her expression unreadable as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
"Did you sign them?" she asked, her tone sharp and clipped.
Derek glanced up from his desk, setting his pen down with deliberate slowness. "I did."
Her eyes narrowed, as if she hadn't expected that answer. "Then why haven't I gotten them back?"
"They're with my lawyer," he said simply, leaning back in his chair. "You'll get them soon enough."
"Soon enough?" she repeated, her voice rising slightly. "You've had weeks, Derek. Weeks. Why are you dragging this out?"
"I'm not dragging anything out," he said, his tone calm but laced with irritation. "I signed them, didn't I? What more do you want from me?"
"What more do I want?" She let out a humorless laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. "I want you to stop playing these games. I want you to stop acting like you're doing me a favor by letting me go when you're the one who left in the first place!"
Derek's jaw tightened as he stood, his chair scraping back against the floor. "I left? Are we really going to do this, Meredith? You pushed me out! You made it impossible to stay!"
"Oh, I made it impossible?" she shot back, stepping closer to him. "You left! You made a choice! You wanted the job and you went after it, remember? It was everything!"
"I came back!" he fired, his voice rising now. "I came back, and you made it perfectly clear there was no place for me here anymore. You said you could live without me and you walked away! You pushed me and when I came back, you walked away!"
Meredith flinched but didn't back down. "I walked away because I couldn't keep doing this—this cycle of you leaving, me waiting, you deciding what's best for everyone-"
"I didn't-" He let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. "I can't- I can't keep doing this Meredith."
"Neither can I!"
He stared at her and swallowed, "So then leave my office."
"Fine," she bit out, turning sharply toward the door. Her steps were quick, determined—an escape. But just as her hand reached the doorknob, she stopped, unable to hold it in any longer.
Her words hit him like a blow, his expression shifting from frustration to something almost wounded. "That's not fair," he said, his voice low, as if the weight of her accusation had knocked the fight out of him, "And that's not true and you know it
And with that, she walked out, leaving Derek alone in the silence of his office.
The second the door closed behind her, Meredith felt the weight of her words crash down on her. Her breath hitched, and she paused in the hallway, her hands trembling.
She hadn't meant it.
She knew it wasn't true—knew it the moment the words left her mouth. He had loved her, deeply, completely. Maybe he still did.
And she had loved him. God, she still did, even when it hurt too much to admit it.
But she was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of trying to piece together something that always felt just out of reach. It was easier to push him away, to let anger shield the part of her heart that still ached for him.
She pressed her back against the wall, closing her eyes as she fought the sting of tears. All she could hear was his voice in her head: That's not fair, and that's not true.
And he was right.
For a fleeting moment, she wanted to turn back, to walk into his office and take it all back. But the thought of facing him again, of unraveling everything, felt too overwhelming.
So she straightened her shoulders, pushed down the regret threatening to consume her, and forced herself to keep walking.
But as she moved down the hall, a quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered the truth she couldn't outrun. She was scared. Scared that no matter how much she loved him—or how much he might still love her—they would never find their way back.
Meredith stared at the empty hallway. No one's there. Not Alex or Maggie. Not Richard or Bailey. Or Jackson or April. Not Hunt or Amelia.
Not Derek.
Someone mouthed that he had gone to see the kids.
She should be the one with their kids. She should be home with their children, cuddled in bed, reading bedtime stories. With Zola's arms around her and Bailey kicking her while he sleeps.
It's the first time in a very long time that she feels truly alone.
And she wept. She couldn't hear how loud her sobs were and she didn't care.
She didn't realize that time had passed until the door slid open and Derek stepped in. She didn't know what he said. Her vision was so blurred from her tears that she didn't even attempt to understand him. He sits next to her and reaches for her hand but all she wants is for him to embrace her and hold her tightly while telling her it'll all be okay.
He was always good at that.
"Th…a…wh…y…are… an… wh…momma…coming…h…I t….Zo..that you'll be home soon but I don't think she believes it anymore," Derek reached for a tissue and ever so gently swiped her nose, "Hang on, let me…Bailey does the same thing when he cries. His snot is just the worst. It's gross and-"
Meredith laughed. Meredith Grey laughed.
"Meredith?"
"Hmm?" she mumbled through her wired mouth.
"You can hear me?"
Her eyes widened and her grip on him tightened.
It was his idea. He brought up the fact that maybe what she needed was to see the kids. Maybe it would give her some encouragement after being so upset at the lack of progress. It wasn't really a lack of progress, it just wasn't enough for her. So he offered to bring them in and Arizona had offered to cover some of the bruises with light makeup.
Meredith heard voices down the hall. Meredith reached for Arizona's arm in anticipation.
"Oh," Arizona grinned, "That must be them! Now remember, keep smiling to a minimum. I know Derek talked to them but still it's scary for the little-"
Meredith furrowed her brows. What did Arizona mean Derek spoke to them?
Arizona sighed, "He thought that if he just brought them in, they'd freak out. And he's right. The kids should be prepared for what might happen. Their momma is a little bruised and scarred but she's healing so she can go home soon. I promise you it's the best thing he could've done."
Meredith nodded and again, the voices echo down the hall.
"Okay Zo remember," She heard Derek's voice right outside the door, "Momma has a wire that's closing her-"
"Mouth!" Zola finished for him, "It's so her jaw can be better!"
"Exactly," Derek continued, "And you have to be gentle. You can hug her just be careful. Very careful."
"Can I see her now?"
Meredith swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on the door as it creaked open. Her heart thudded as Zola stepped in first, her dark curls bouncing and her brown eyes wide. For a moment, Zola froze, her gaze taking in the sight of her mother.
Meredith's heart shattered. Zola was scared. Zola was scared of her.
"Momma," Zola whispered, her voice quivering slightly. She glanced back at Derek, who gave her a soft nod of encouragement.
Meredith's lips curved into the smallest smile, her eyes filling with tears. She extended her hand toward her daughter, her fingers trembling.
Zola took a tentative step forward, her tiny hands clasped together. Then, as if summoning all her bravery, she reached out and grasped Meredith's hand.
"Hi, Momma," Zola said softly, her lips trembling but her grip firm.
Behind her, Bailey peeked in, his big blue eyes darting nervously around the room. He clung to Derek's hand, his lower lip jutting out in uncertainty.
"It's okay, buddy," Derek murmured, crouching down to meet his son's eye level. "You can go to her. Just be gentle, like we talked about."
And when they were both in her arms, Meredith felt some hope. She looked up at Derek, thanking him silently. He leaned against the frame and nodded.
To anyone watching, it seemed like a perfectly normal family reuniting after weeks of the children's mother healing. But to Arizona, who quietly left the room, she knew it wasn't Meredith the only one healing in there.
Days passed since he last brought the kids and she felt irritated again.
The cast on her right leg itched. She'd come to resent the smoothies the interns brought for her. She hated hearing Alex talk about Jo and Maggie. She hated watching Richard come in with a new song to sing about how the day was beautiful and sunshine and rainbows. She hated the chief for rubbing it in her face how her patients were doing better and all the great surgeries she was doing. She hated everything. And everyone.
And they were well aware of it the morning they had each walked in and she'd greeted them by lunging ice chips to their faces.
Derek had watched it all from a distance before finally mustering the courage to step in.
"Are you gonna throw ice chips at me too?" he asked, his voice light but cautious.
Meredith growled, her eyes narrowing, and reached into the styrofoam cup. She pulled out the last ice chip and, without hesitation, hurled it at him, just missing his chest.
Derek watched it fall to the floor and frowned, crossing his arms. "Are you done?"
Meredith slammed her hand on the table in frustration.
He chuckled, "I think you need a break."
Meredith's brow raised as she watched him leave the room and return only when he had a wheelchair.
Derek smirked at her, mischief well in his eyes, "Want to make a break for it?"
She could hear herself giggling as they rolled down the hallway. She had no idea where he was taking her and she didn't really mind. She'd come to hate the hospital walls she'd grown up in and being free for only a brief moment in time was a welcome change.
He'd taken her down to a bench, distanced from the hospital. Away from the sounds of machines and the wide gazes of sympathy and sorrow.
Derek smiled at her as he locked her wheelchair in place and sat on the bench next to her, "Are you cold? You okay?"
She shook her head before reaching for a marker. She deftly unscrewed the lid and wrote on the white board The sun feels nice.
"Good," Derek nodded as he crossed his arms, "The air should be good for you. You know, you've been cooped up in that hospital for so long, I was worried you'd forgotten what it looked like out here."
He watched as she giggled. Her hand moved with precision as she passed the marker back to him, silently asking him to screw the lid back on. He did, and when he handed the board back, she watched as she wiped away the words she'd written just moments ago.
"You want to see a funny video of Bailey spilling flour all over himself? Maggie sent it to me last night," he reached for his phone, "I was gonna show it to you this morning but you were so busy throwing ice chips at everyone-"
Meredith's smile faded as her brows furrowed.
"Oh shut up," Derek smirked, "Watch your kid, it'll make you laugh."
She reached over, eager to see Bailey's antics. The video started to play, and within moments, she found herself laughing—as best as she could. The sight of Bailey, covered in flour, trying to wipe it off without realizing he was just spreading it further, was exactly the kind of humor she needed. It was simple, silly, and full of life—the kind of thing she had missed.
Derek's gaze softened as he watched her, the lines of stress on his face fading as he saw her so relaxed, even if just for a few moments.
"I know you can't talk right now," he said softly, as he pulled his phone back,"So I'm taking advantage of it because I don't know if you'll ever let me say these things otherwise."
He glanced at her, but her expression was unreadable.
"I've been thinking a lot since...since the accident," he began, swallowing hard. "About us. About everything I got wrong."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as she reached over and pulled on the breaks.
"Meredith-"
She pulled on the second set and attempted to roll away before he pulled her back and locked her brakes again, "Will you stop? You undo them and I'll lock them again!"
She grimaced at him before turning away.
Derek sighed, "Listen, I know it's a long list. A fucking long list of all my fuck ups."
Her right fingers tightened around the arm rest. The others were trapped in a cast. And she was trapped and forced to hear his long list of fuck ups.
Derek sat back, letting out a shaky breath. "You deserved better than the anger, the blame...all of it. I was selfish. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you. I know I did."
Her eyes softened just a fraction, though her lips remained pressed tightly together.
"I think..." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I think I convinced myself that if I didn't take the job in D.C. I would be a failure. I think I've always done that. And maybe a shrink might agree and say it's because I escape and hide behind the job- and I do. But, I shouldn't have blamed you. I made a choice. I let my guard down. And it's my fault."
She shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze lowering to the ground.
"I know I can't fix what's already broken," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "But I can't lose you, Meredith. Not completely."
He leaned forward again and rested his elbows on his knees, "Our kids are everything. Everything. And they deserve better than what we had. No matter what it looks like, our kids deserve that their mom is happy. You deserve that."
His voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "They deserve the childhoods we didn't have."
The words hung in the air for a moment, the weight of them pressing down on both of them.
He turned to her, his blue eyes searching hers. "And for the record, I never loved the idea of you. I loved—love—you. All of you. And I hope you do know that."
Her breath hitched slightly, her lips parting as if she wanted to speak, but the wires held her back.
"I don't expect anything to change overnight," he added, his tone softer now. "I'm not asking you to take me back, I'm just… if you need me, I'll be here."
Her gaze met his, and for the first time in a long time, the tension between them seemed to ease. Slowly, she released the arm rest, her hand reaching for his.
Jackson and April are getting a divorce.
At least that's what she's heard. She's heard a lot. She's heard how Jo asks about Alex. How Maggie has called her mom several times. How Amelia and Owen have been bickering.
She's heard Derek ask for updates. She's heard the nurses- the ones who have always fawned over him- and their colleagues tell him every detail. She should be pissed. She should be angry because he's no longer her husband. He doesn't have a right to this level of access.
But she's designated him her power of attorney. He's supposed to know these things.
So she watches as they tell him. And she listens when he comes in and tells her. And when the crowd of doctors hover over her and repeat everything he's told her.
She hears her kids on the other side of the phone ask about her. She listens to Zola talk about school and the art craft she's made. She hears Bailey babble about pre-school and ask when momma is coming home. She's heard Derek lie.
"Soon," he says softly, a practiced reassurance. She hears him tell them, "I love you forever, and Momma loves you too."
He's strong and steady. And that's the Derek she recognizes.
But at night, when the quiet took over, she saw the cracks in him.
He didn't know it but she watched the tears slowly trickle at night when he thought she's asleep. She watched him stare at the ceiling with his arms crossed biting his lip, waiting for sleep to take over. As if he's quietly reprimanding himself over everything. And she knows he is.
He's blamed himself over this.
She tries to reach for the velcro on her boot and huffs out in frustration.
"I heard you're getting bailed out today."
Meredith turned to the source of the voice and smiled. Derek leaned against the door frame with his hands in his pocket.
"Bailey is getting the paperwork," she nodded, "Alex is uh, supposed to-"
"Yeah," Derek sighed as he stepped in, "He actually got pulled in for a surgery. He asked if you would wait. Or if it's okay with you I can-"
"I'd-" she paused, "I'd appreciate it, thanks."
"Of course," he closed the door behind him and stepped forward, "Are you excited to see the kids?"
"Oh," she exhaled with a smile, "Is it weird that I'm about to say that I can't wait for Bailey to kick me in bed?"
"I always said he was gonna be a soccer player," Derek laughed as he helped her tighten the book protecting her leg, "But don't let him sleep in your bed yet, your knee still needs to heal."
She watched as he pulled on the velcro. He looked up and smiled before reaching for the cane resting against the bed. His build was slightly slimmer. His face sharper and the bags under his eyes told her he was exhausted. But he had stayed.
Derek had stayed when Richard insisted he let the nursing staff take over. He'd stayed even when Alex would offer to switch spots. He'd stayed when Amelia insisted he go home to the children. He stayed when Maggie suggested that perhaps she should be making decisions and not him. She meant well. They were divorced and perhaps this was too much. He politely declined and reminded her that out of the pair, Derek is the one she's had conversations that involved the phrase, 'what if' or 'in the worst possible scenario'. Maggie hasn't.
He stayed through it all and it was so much more than she could ask for.
"Derek?"
"Yeah?"
"I," she swallowed a lump as she mustered courage, "Thank you for- for making the hard decisions when I couldn't. I know it wasn't easy but I-"
"Don't apologize," he shrugged, "I'm sure you meant to remove me as your POA but-"
"No," Meredith shook her head, "I uh, I trusted you to-"
She paused, "I trusted you to know what I would have wanted. Even if it hurts you. You wouldn't have let me be a vegetable. Or let me go without knowing it was the right thing."
"Yeah," he quietly replied, "I'm glad you didn't make me make those choices."
"And about what I said-," she whispered, "The day before the accident. What I said about you only loving the idea-"
"Oh, Meredith," he sighed, "We talked about that. I-"
"No, you talked about it," she smiled softly, "I had my jaw shut with wires, remember?"
"Fair point," Derek nodded.
"I shouldn't have said the things I said. I wish I could take it back. You don't" she swallowed, "I know you. I know you're not selfish and I know you and I know you were hurting when I pushed you away to D.C.- I am also to blame. I told you to leave without trying."
"Mer-"
"You stayed here night after night waiting for me to get better. You slept on the chair and on the crappy sofa every night while going back and forth between me and our kids. You dealt with Amy and her problems and you were here," she whispered, "You were here. You are here."
He leaned in and gently pressed his lips against her temple before sitting next to her, "You know, just because you and I are divorced, just because we aren't married, it doesn't mean I'm ever going to let you be alone."
Meredith nodded, "I know."
"I know you have Alex and Maggie and if you were to call Cristina she'd drop everything because she's your person but I," he tilted his head, "Meredith I care about you. I still.."
Her heart squeezes.
"I will always care about you."
All was forgiven between the two. Maybe not how she expected or how she wanted. But that was a step.
Forgiveness.
"I will too," she whispered.
Derek opened his mouth as if to say something but he didn't. Instead he nods once and squeezes her hand, "Let's get you home."
Months have passed. Many months. Months where they've forgiven and forgotten.
Months of check-ups and therapy. Months of modified schedules with the kids where they spend his weekends with her and he stays more than he should to make dinner when Maggie or Amelia are unavailable.
Months where they have lunch in the cafeteria or she hides out in his office because everyone is hovering and they just don't understand that she just wants to move on.
He jumps at the slam of the door and looks up.
"Hey," she says as she sinks into the black leather couch he's kept in there. She adjusts until she's laying and staring at the ceiling.
"Hey," Derek responds wearily as he watches her every move, "Are you okay?"
"They don't leave," her voice breaking as she swallows the lump in her throat, "And they don't leave me alone!"
"Um, who are we-"
"Alex, Maggie, everybody!"
"They're worried, Mer-"
"They never leave the house. The shrink says I can tell them to leave. He says that I should tell them to leave if that's what I want-"
He shifts through the papers in his hands, "You're seeing a shrink?"
"Mandated therapy," she explains, "A few sessions and I should be cleared for surgery."
He hums.
"He says they don't want me to feel alone," she continues softly.
"Mer, I know I'm a brain surgeon, but I'm not that kind of doctor—"
"I told him you didn't leave. After the accident. All the nights I spent here," she shifts until her eyes are on him, "I told him about you."
She fails to mention that the shrink brought up the fact that maybe there's lingering feelings about him. She doesn't tell him how the therapist brought up the fact that maybe her dependence on Derek is some sort of Nightingale Effect—rescued, she fell for the rescuer.
"This isn't that," she told her shrink, "he's just…Derek. It's what he does, he helps people. It's offensive to him to say otherwise."
"So why did you divorce?"
She had no answer for her shrink.
"Can I hide here? For a few minutes? Can I…I can just sit here. Quietly and just…sit."
"Yeah," he quietly answers. He goes back to his paperwork while she stares silently at the white tiles on the ceiling.
It's then she realizes that she doesn't want to be alone. She just doesn't want to be with them.
And so, she hides in his office. For days. Then weeks.
And then months.
Months where the silence between them turns into talking.
She listens to him complain about his sister. He listens to her talk about how stubborn Alex is about Jo.
He tells her about the peds doctor Amelia tried to set him up with. He tells her how she brought up marriage and how he made it clear that he is not interested in ever getting married again after two failed marriages. It's probably more information than she asked but then again she coerced it out of him.
If she's honest- which she isn't- she hates hearing about it.
And then he finds a way to get her to tell him about the V.A. surgeon she dated. He was kind. Persistent. But it didn't feel right. It felt like she was forcing herself into something because everyone told her to move on. It felt like cheating. She wasn't ready and she rushed into it.
"Was it like that for you?" she turned to him, "When you divorced Addison? Like it was cheating?"
"No," he says after a long pause, the weight of the past heavy in his voice. "I knew we were done. I felt it. I knew it was over, and... I made a lot of mistakes, but going home with you that night wasn't one of them."
She fails to tell him that her heart skipped a beat hearing that.
He keeps the fact that it's the most honest he's been in months to himself.
It's months later when he invites her to dinner to celebrate her being cleared for surgery. He did promise her steak once she was fully healed, and she's reminded him of it almost daily. Those dinners gradually turned into breakfasts with the kids at least once a week. They'd promised to be better for them, after all.
And then one night, months after she's whole and healed again, Derek arrives to the house and dials her. The kids are asleep in their car seats and he's going to need Alex's or Maggies help.
"Oh," Meredith sighs, "Crap Alex uh, he moved back to Jo's and Maggie is on call. I'll be right out-"
"Crap," he sighs, "Wait, no, I'm worried about your knee-"
"Derek, it's been months, I'm fine," she insists, "You can bring in Zo and I'll bring in Bailey."
He watches her closely as she tenderly carries their son into the house and tucks him into bed. Derek turns into the room painted yellow and sets his daughter down into the big girl bed Alex or a store employee must've set up. The one at his place is also blue but her room is painted purple.
Derek presses his lips against his daughter's temple and quietly makes his way downstairs. He can hear Meredith whisper something to Bailey. He doesn't dare go in—if Bailey sees him, bedtime will turn into superheroes or multiple bedtime stories, and it's far too late for that.
Instead, he drifts into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water.
Meredith steps into the kitchen and shakes her head, "You're gonna hurt your back if you keep carrying her around like that."
He puts the glass of water down on the counter he's leaning against and chuckles, "Are you calling me old?"
"Well the gray hair doesn't help," she smirks, earning another chuckle from him.
"I'm gonna be carrying her until she tells me not to," he smiles, "Or until I break my back whichever comes first."
"I'm sure you will," Meredith giggles, "You wore them out."
"Yeah, they had fun," he smiles, "The house looks good. I like the…lack of a wall. I didn't really notice it before."
"Maggie says it opens the house," she shrugs, "I don't really see the difference."
"It makes the space bigger," Derek points out as he turns toward the now absent wall, "The kitchen opens right into the living room. It's brighter, more connected. You can see everything at once—makes it feel less closed off."
"You never liked closed off spaces," she says quietly, "It's why the dream house had an open floor plan."
The dream house. Their once home.
He sets the glass down and nods, "No, I didn't."
They stare at each other for a moment. As if driven by a force beyond her control, Meredith takes a step closer. The subtle warmth of his body seems to beckon her, and she steps into his space. He doesn't pull away, and the air between them crackles with something old and familiar. His blue eyes do the same dance they did years ago, the one where they'd scan every bit of her face. Down to her lips and back to her eyes.
"Derek," she whispers, her voice barely audible. Her eyes search for any sign of rejection, but she doesn't find it.
Without another word, Meredith leans in, her breath mingling with his as her lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss. For a fleeting moment, everything seems to make sense. The warmth of his mouth against hers, the softness of his touch, all felt like coming home.
Her hands grip at the soft cloth on his chest. He pulls her closer as their lips dance together. It's desperate.
But then he pulls away. And for a moment she's scared he's going to leave and they'll have to pretend it never happened. But they don't. Because he kisses her again and lets her lead them to her bedroom- their old bedroom and he devours her. They let their moans and gasps of pleasure do all the talking because despite the months where they've confided in each other, they're still more fluent during sex. She sighs at the way he's gentle when he explores her body and he groans when she writhes begging for more attention.
And the moment after is still when she feels most safe.
They've been inseparable since.
A few months pass when he arrives home and realizes that their post-it has made its way back to its original place.
Above the bed frame. In a new shadow box.
He doesn't question her about it. He doesn't make it a big deal. He doesn't have to.
They are married.
That's it.
They've been married and technically that post- it says forever.
So forever it will be.
Their kids don't really question it. Well, Zola has a few questions but both she and Bailey are still young enough to let it go. They just know that mommy and daddy love each other.
But now, well over a year later, they find themselves here again.
Back to her being a patient.
Back to him pacing the hallway, signing paperwork, and making decisions he didn't think he'd have to make.
Decisions like should Bailey and Zola stay the night with one of their sisters?
Or choosing which first day onesie to select.
Or approving a name he never thought he'd give to his child. And he is still very confused about it. But somehow it makes sense
He shuffles down the hallway and sincerely thanks each nurse and orderly that congratulates him. He can't help the stupid grin when one of them declares, "She is the cutest baby in the entire nursery!"
And he can't help the chuckle that escapes when Chief Bailey sternly chides, "I get that you like babies, Shepherd, but I need my surgeon back!"
"Ready to go?"
Meredith turns to the door and smiles, "What are we gonna do with three?"
Their baby girl lay on inside an acrylic bassinet, swaddled tightly in a pastel blanket. She was so small, so impossibly fragile, that it took his breath away. He had forgotten how tiny Bailey had been, how delicate newborns always looked.
"We'll figure it out," he whispers as he sets the car seat on the bed, "Right Ellie?"
Derek reaches out, gently placing a finger in the baby's tiny hand. Her fingers curl instinctively around his, and he feels his chest tighten in that familiar way—the overwhelming, indescribable love of holding something so pure, so new, that it eclipsed everything else. So new, so precious. A hope of new beginnings.
Meredith watches him. He's hunched over the bassinet and he's fallen in love all over again. It's a sight she's seen twice before with their children.
"You know I was delusional and hormonal when we named her," Meredith zipped her bag as she watched him lost in his own world with his daughter, "Are you sure you're okay with Ellis?"
"Yeah," he whispers, "I'm fine with it."
Derek turns to her, "Are you sure you're okay with Carolyn?"
"Mm," she rolls her eyes playfully, "Are you sure you weren't delusional and hormonal?"
He laughs, "Ellis Carolyn. It's fitting."
Meredith giggles as she reaches for her bag of toiletries. She can feel him creep up and stand in front of her and look up at him.
He smirks at the way she looks at him, with one brow raised as if she's daring him to do something like kiss her thoroughly. This pregnancy had been easy. Yes there was morning sickness but there was no storm the day Ellis arrived.
Ellis Carolyn Shepherd arrived to join the Grey Shepherd family on a bright spring afternoon.
Everything was perfect.
Derek reaches out and cups Meredith's cheeks before pressing his lips against hers.
"I know you're delusional and hormonal but I did something," he swallows nervously as he pulls away, "I uh, let my impulse get the better of me but I think it's the right thing."
"Oh god, Derek what did you do?"
The last time he let his impulses get the best of him, he took a job in D.C. and the demise of their marriage began there.
"I uh," he presses his lips together, "Meredith I put in the paperwork to resign."
"What?"
"They're sitting in my office," he sighs, "I haven't finalized it but I-"
"Derek-"
"I think this is the right thing for our family," he finishes without letting her continue, "I gave it a lot of thought. I can stay on the board, come in locum tenens, and later on teach but for now I want to be home. I need to be home."
"This is a lot-"
"I know," he sighed, "But listen, Ellie was a surprise and I don't want this to hold you back. I don't want our jobs to separate us again. I broke promises and I am not making those mistakes again."
She stares at him nervously. A part of her wants to pull away and tell him to tell Bailey that he is not quitting.
But there is something inside her that tells her that this is true, this is what he wants, and this is what they need. And maybe instead of pushing back she can just…let things happen.
"I don't want you to resent me for this," she whispers, her voice trembling.
"Hey," he says, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. His blue eyes are steady, filled with an earnestness that makes her heart ache. "I am not going to resent you. Not this time. This isn't like D.C. This is about me making a choice—a choice that I should've made a long time ago. Surgery will always be there, but this... us... our kids…our family...it's not something I'm willing to lose again."
Meredith bites her lip,"I've heard this before. I-"
He nods, his thumb brushing gently against the back of her hand. "I know. But I mean it. I want to be there for every moment, big and small. I don't want to miss Ellie's first steps or Bailey's soccer games or Zola's science fairs. I want to be the dad who's there."
She exhales slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. "Okay," she said finally.
"Okay," he echoes. Derek leans in and presses his lips against hers and for the first time in a very long time, he breathes the fresh air he's been given a second time. This time, he won't take it for granted.
A tiny cry erupts from the bassinet, pulling them apart. Derek turns, laughing as he walks over to pick up their newborn daughter.
"Alright, Ellie," he said, cradling her gently. "Let's go home."
Meredith watches them with a smile, her heart full in a way she hadn't felt in years.
This wasn't the life she had imagined for herself all those years ago, but it was better—messy and imperfect and full of love.
And for the first time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could have it all. And they were truly whole and healed.
A/N: Hi. It's me again. I have a problem. I can't stop writing about these morons.
I miss writing one-shots, too! Anyways, I've had this one dancing in my head for a long time! TheShepherds wrote a one-shot a while back and it left me thinking with what if Derek lived during this accident and they had been divorced. And well...this.
Okay, thanks for reading and providing a very much welcome distraction. See you soon with updates on other work!