AN: I want to hear more from you guys! Please leave reviews as they do inspire me to update and keep this story going.

I have the next few chapters mapped out with clear goals. You will be meeting a new character that I feel will be instrumental to this story's development. As much as I have the idea as the writer of how I want this story to develop, ultimately, it will take on a life of its own and tell us how fast or how slow our characters need me to move to make this story have the heart that I want it to.

I want to make it abundantly clear that I am always team MerDer but in my story, Meredith is strong and she's untrusting of Derek no matter how much she loves him. He is not going to get what he had back easily or in a short period of time. They have to build their relationship back piece by piece and that starts with a foundation of friendship.

I want Meredith to date and be young and maybe feel something real outside of Derek in order for her to ultimately fall back to him.

Please be patient as this unfolds.

Meredith's POV

I was hopeful that I would be enjoying my clinicals more than I am. Besides my new friendship with Cristina, it's a little boring constantly observing and not getting to do anything more. Plus the residents and interns get the real view. I mostly have to stand in the back and can barely see any procedures getting done. At this point, I'd rather be fetching coffee. Strangely, Derek and I rarely cross paths at the hospital which may be a good thing. Probably best that we don't act as a distraction to the other.

Today has been especially long as things are slow and extra interns piled into a tumor resection surgery I got assigned to. I could barely see anything. I decided I would find something good from the coffee cart, that would at least perk me up for a while.

"Pretty boring, isn't it?" a deep voice interrupted my thoughts, pulling me out of my thoughts. The line to get coffee was too long and people were taking their time figuring out what they wanted.

"Hmm?" I mumbled, turning to face the voice that had startled me. He stood tall, his dark hair perfectly tousled, framing deep-set, intense eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. His light blue scrubs did little to hide his muscular build, and I found myself momentarily distracted by the strong, defined lines of his forearms.

He smiled, a hint of mischief in his expression. "Hospital rotations as a student—it's mind-numbing, right? I was in your shoes just last year."

"Right," I sighed, feeling a bit sheepish. "I just wish I could do more to help."

He nodded knowingly, his smile softening. "I'd love to say it gets better, but it doesn't," he said with a chuckle.

I smirked, appreciating his honesty. "Well, thanks for that. I was kind of hoping to stay in my delusional bubble, pretending this would somehow get more exciting."

"Sorry to burst it," he replied, his grin widening.

There was something endearing about the way he spoke, so unfiltered yet comforting. I couldn't help but laugh. "No, you're not."

He grinned wider, extending his hand. "I'm Rory Fallon, by the way."

I reached out to shake his hand, noting how firm and warm his grip was. It felt good, reassuring in a way I didn't expect.

"Meredith Grey," I replied.

"Hi, Meredith," he breathed, his voice low. He didn't seem eager to release my hand, and for some reason, I didn't mind at all.

Rory's gaze held mine, and I felt a strange warmth begin to spread through me, a comfort in the midst of an otherwise sterile environment.

But before either of us could say another word, a commotion erupted down the hall, pulling our attention away from each other. The sharp clang of a metal tray crashing to the floor, followed by hurried footsteps and frantic voices, shattered the moment.

"Code Blue, ICU!" a voice barked over the intercom, echoing through the corridors and sending a ripple of tension through the hospital.

Rory's hand slipped from mine as he turned, his expression instantly shifting from playful to focused. "That's me," he said, his voice firm and steady now.

Without another word, he started toward the commotion, the coffee line long forgotten and I found myself following close behind, adrenaline kicking in as we both broke into a brisk run.

As we neared the ICU, the scene unfolded with controlled chaos. Nurses and doctors were converging on a patient's room, the crash cart already in place. The beeping of monitors blended into a cacophony of sound, each one signaling a life on the edge.

Rory threw me a quick glance, his earlier lightheartedness replaced by a calm determination. "Stick close, Meredith," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

I nodded, heart pounding as I stepped into the room alongside him. The patient, an elderly man, was unresponsive, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. The team moved like a well-oiled machine, but I could feel the underlying tension in the room, the stakes suddenly so much.

"Step back, Dr. Fallon," Dr. Hartman, the attending on duty commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. Rory nodded and moved aside, but his focus never wavered, his eyes trained on every move the attending made.

"Get me 1mg of epinephrine, stat," Dr. Hartman ordered, as he positioned himself at the head of the bed, taking charge of the situation. The nurses moved with precision, handing him the syringe within seconds.

"Paddles ready?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the patient.

"Ready, doctor," one of the nurses confirmed, passing him the defibrillator paddles. The room fell silent, everyone holding their breath as Dr. Hartman placed the paddles on the man's chest.

"Clear!" he shouted, pressing the button. The patient's body jerked violently, then slumped back onto the bed. All eyes darted to the monitor, where the erratic line continued its deadly dance.

"Again," Dr. Hartman said, his voice steady, unflinching. Another jolt, another tense pause, and then—miraculously—the line on the monitor steadied, finding a rhythm, a heartbeat.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room as the man's vitals began to stabilize. Dr. Hartman handed the paddles back, his demeanor still calm and composed, though there was a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Good work, everyone," he said, looking around the room. His gaze landed on Rory, who had been silently observing the whole time. "Dr. Fallon, take over monitoring him. We'll need to keep a close eye on his progress."

"Yes, sir," Rory replied, stepping forward once more.

I stood back, watching the exchange, both awed and inspired by the seamless teamwork that had just unfolded before me. It was a stark reminder of the stakes we faced every day—of the lives that hung in the balance, and the skill and dedication required to save them.

As Rory began adjusting the monitors, ensuring everything was set, he glanced over at me, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The lightness from earlier was gone, replaced by something deeper—a shared understanding of the gravity of what we were here to do.

Dr. Hartman gave the room one last look before turning to leave. But as he passed by me, he paused, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. "You did well to stay out of the way," he said bluntly, but there was no malice in his tone—just a simple observation. "Pay attention, and you might learn something."

I nodded, too overwhelmed to respond, but his words stuck with me as he exited the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

Rory moved to the other side of the bed, checking the patient's IV lines and adjusting the oxygen mask. "Welcome to the real deal, Meredith," he said quietly, glancing up at me with a knowing look. "This is where the work gets interesting."

As the chaos of the day finally began to wind down, the adrenaline that had fueled me for hours slowly started to ebb away, leaving behind an almost surreal sense of exhaustion. I wandered down the hospital corridors, the fluorescent lights casting long shadows as I made my way toward the exit, my mind replaying the events of the day.

The image of Rory lingered in my thoughts, more vivid than anything else.

As I stepped outside into the cool evening air, the sky a deep indigo, I found myself replaying our brief interaction before the code had interrupted us. The way his hand had felt in mine—warm, firm, almost reluctant to let go—lingered in my mind. There was something about him that was both disarming and comforting.

I paused for a moment, letting the cool breeze wash over me, trying to sort through the conflicting emotions swirling inside. Perhaps, I had a crush. Perhaps, it would be okay to crush on an intern doctor that took notice of me and gave me a thrill much more exciting than what I had been experiencing day to day as a student observer. Today was a good day.

Derek's POV

I stepped out of my jeep and glanced down at my watch—5:45 a.m. It was a miracle I'd convinced Meredith to join me for a sunrise hike, let alone bring Mia along. Discovery Park seemed like the perfect choice: easy enough for a four-year-old, with enough natural beauty to charm even Meredith into thinking this was a good idea.

Lately, I'd been spending all my time getting to know Mia, which was incredible, but I'd missed being outdoors. I wanted to share that part of myself with Mia, to let her see some of my favorite spots in Washington. This seemed like the perfect start.

I shot Meredith a quick text so I wouldn't wake Susan and Thatcher. Then I waited by the porch swing, listening to the early morning sounds—birds waking up, the distant hum of the city beginning its day.

A minute later, Meredith opened the door, Mia asleep in her arms. I stepped forward immediately, reaching to take our daughter from her.

"Hi," Meredith greeted me, her voice a soft whisper.

"Good morning," I replied, matching her tone, careful not to wake Mia. I knew better than to disturb her when she was in the middle of a deep sleep; waking her up abruptly would be a disaster.

As I took Mia into my arms, Meredith followed me to the jeep. "This better be worth it," she muttered, but the corners of her mouth were twitching in that almost-smile I knew so well.

"I brought coffee," I said with a grin, nodding toward the thermos in the cup holder.

Meredith rolled her eyes, but I could see the amusement there. "You don't need to bribe me, Derek. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah," I said, gently buckling Mia into her car seat. Her tiny body nestled into the padding, still fast asleep. "But coffee never hurts."

The drive to Discovery Park was quiet. The city was just waking up, the sky still dark. I glanced in the rearview mirror, watching Mia sleep, her little curls bouncing with each bump in the road. My chest felt tight with a strange mix of happiness and something I couldn't quite name. Maybe hope.

"She's going to love it," I said softly, breaking the silence. "The park's perfect for her. It's got trees and trails, and there's even a beach. Plus, I packed snacks. Good ones."

Meredith turned to look at me, "She's excited. She doesn't stop talking about you."

I couldn't help but grin at that admission.

Meredith's gaze shifted to Mia, her eyes filled with the adoration she always wore when she looked at our daughter "It's working" she said quietly. "With her. With everything." she admitted.

"It's working." I agreed.

We pulled into the parking lot just as the first light of dawn brushed over the park. I carefully unbuckled Mia, lifting her into my arms. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, and she looked up at me with a sleepy smile.

"Daddy?" she murmured, her voice soft and small.

"Hey, Mia," I whispered back. "Are you ready to see something really cool?"

She nodded against my shoulder, still too sleepy to say much more. Meredith grabbed the backpack with the snacks and the coffee, and we headed toward the trail. The morning air was crisp and fresh, filled with the scent of pine and earth. I took a deep breath, feeling the calmness of the park settle over me.

We walked slowly, Meredith and I side by side, Mia resting comfortably in my arms. The path wound through towering trees, their leaves whispering in the breeze. Our footsteps crunched on the gravel, the only sound breaking the morning stillness. I could feel Meredith glancing over at me, stealing quick looks when she thought I wasn't paying attention.

"Remember when we used to take hikes like this in Boston?" she asked quietly, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

"I could never forget," I said, smiling at the memory. "That summer I used to drag you out hiking before dawn, just to see the sunrise. You hated it and you loved it"

She laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "Well, it was always so early, and you know I don't do mornings. But-"

"It was worth it," I finished for her. "It always was."

We fell silent again, walking together in the pre-dawn light. I could feel the unspoken words hanging between us, the things we were too afraid to say. About how much I missed moments like these. About how much I missed her.

As the trail leveled out, we reached a small clearing. I set Mia down, and she blinked up at us, her sleepiness fading as she took in the scene around her.

"Look, Daddy!" she exclaimed, pointing at the horizon. The first rays of the sun were just peeking over the treetops, casting a golden glow across the clearing.

Meredith stood beside me, her face bathed in the soft light of the sunrise. She glanced at me, her expression unreadable. For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed—like we were still the same Derek and Meredith we'd always been, standing together at the start of something beautiful.

"This was a good idea." Meredith told me as she peered out.

I nodded, my heart full but heavy with everything we weren't saying. "Yeah," I agreed.

"Daddy, why are the trees so tall?" Mia asked, her voice full of wonder.

I smiled down at her. "Well, they grow really, really slowly over a long time. They reach up high to get as much sunlight as they can. Kind of like how you stretch when you wake up."

Mia giggled, stretching her arms above her head. "Like this?"

"Exactly like that," I said, laughing softly. "Except they don't stop. They keep growing their whole lives."

Meredith leaned down, brushing Mia's hair from her face. "And you know what else? The trees help make the air we breathe, and they give homes to birds and squirrels. They're really important."

Mia looked up at the canopy, trying to see the tops of the trees. "Do they ever reach the sky?" she asked.

"Not quite," Meredith answered, sharing a quick glance with me. "But they try their best. And that's what's important."

Mia's face turned thoughtful. "Can I tell them my secrets?"

"Of course," I said. "Trees are good listeners. They don't talk back, but they're always there."

Mia nodded, seeming satisfied. Her gaze shifted to a fallen leaf on the ground. She let go of our hands and ran over to pick it up. "Mommy, Daddy, look!" she called, holding the leaf up to us. "It's so big!"

I crouched down to her level, examining the leaf together. "That's a maple leaf," I told her. "And you know what? In the fall, these leaves turn bright red and orange. It's like the whole park catches on fire, but in a good way."

Mia's eyes widened. "Really? Can we come back and see it?"

"Definitely," Meredith said, reaching out to touch the leaf. "We can come back and see the leaves change colors."

Mia smiled, clutching the leaf close to her chest. Then, with the seriousness only a four-year-old could muster, she said, "I'm gonna keep this leaf for you Mommy since you likes pretty things."

Meredith's eyes softened, a tender look passing over her face. "I do like pretty leaf is extra special because you picked it."

Mia beamed up at both of us, her eyes shining. "You know what, Mommy? You know what, Daddy?"

"What's that, Mia?" I asked

"I love you," she said simply, her small hands reaching up to take each of ours again.

I felt a lump in my throat as I squeezed her hand back gently. Meredith did the same, a soft smile on her lips. "We love you too, Mia. So much," I said.

Meredith nodded, her voice just as soft. "More than anything."

Mia nodded back, satisfied, and started to skip along the trail, her little hands holding onto ours. We walked together, a family in the quiet of the morning, the sun beginning to paint the sky with its golden light.

We walked on the path for awhile before Mia shared that she was hungry and only chocolate chip pancakes would do.

We found a cafe in town that was buzzing. Mia practically bounced in her seat as we walked in, her excitement contagious. We found a small table near the window, and Mia climbed up on one of the chairs, looking at the menu like she was making the most important decision of her life.

When the waitress came over, Mia looked up with her big, bright eyes. "Can I have pancakes, please? With extra syrup and chocolate chips?"

The waitress smiled. "Of course, sweetie. And for the grown-ups?"

"I'll have the same and coffee," Meredith told the waitress
"Can I have Oatmeal and coffee too?"

Meredith rolled her eyes. "Oatmeal"

"Ewwwwww" Mia commented with a laugh, grinning at her mother.

"Oatmeal is healthy."

"So is enjoying life a little" Meredith chimed.

After the waitress left with a laugh and Mia busied herself coloring on the menu with the crayons she'd brought, her tongue poking out in concentration. I watched her for a moment, then turned to Meredith. I knew this was as good a time as any to bring it up.

"So, my parents have confirmed their flight for next weekend," I said casually, taking a sip of my coffee that the waitress quickly brought over. "They're so excited Mer."

Meredith's smile faltered for a moment, her hand pausing around her coffee cup. She looked up at me, trying to mask her discomfort. "Right, next weekend," she repeated, her tone more guarded now.

"Yeah," I said, keeping my voice light. "I don't think I can keep them away any longer. I thought maybe we could have a family dinner. Just keep it relaxed, you know?"

Meredith nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. "I know. I agreed to it, and I know it's important. It's just… now that it's actually happening, I'm feeling a little-."

"A little what?" I asked when she trailed off.

She shrugged "Uneasy I guess"

I leaned forward, my brow furrowing in concern. "Uneasy? About what?"

Meredith glanced at Mia, who was still engrossed in her drawing, then back at me. She lowered her voice, careful to keep her words between us. "Derek, your parents were like a second family to me. They loved me, and I loved them. But after everything that happened … I just don't know how to do this now."

I reached out and covered her hand with mine, trying to offer some reassurance. "Mer, it won't be like that. Look how we're getting along. We've picked up just like we used to."

"Derek, this is not then at all. We're coparenting our daughter and getting along for her sake." she told me sharply.

It stung, but I tried to keep my tone steady. "I know," I told her simply. "It's different now. But I still believe we can make it work. My parents just want to be a part of Mia's life. They're not here to revisit old wounds."

Meredith sighed softly, her eyes searching mine. "I don't want Mia to feel any tension. She's too young to understand any of this."

I squeezed her hand gently. "They loved you, Meredith. And I don't think that love just disappears. They know how much Mia means to me, and they'll love her because of that. We can take this slow, start with dinner and see where it goes."

She pulled her hand away slightly, crossing her arms. "I just don't want this to be awkward. For anyone."

Before I could respond, the waitress returned with our food. Mia's eyes lit up when she saw the stack of pancakes in front of her, drowning in syrup. "Yay!" she cheered, grabbing her fork and diving in.

Meredith and I exchanged a look, the conversation momentarily set aside. We both smiled at Mia, who was now thoroughly engrossed in her pancakes, syrup smeared on her cheeks.

I took a bite of my oatmeal, a far contrast to Meredith and Mia's breakfast, it was good. I leaned back in my chair, watching Mia enjoy herself. I love seeing her so happy.

Meredith picked up her coffee, staring into the dark liquid as if it held the answers she was searching for. "It'll be fine," she said quietly, more to herself than to me. She still wasn't looking at me. "We'll see how it goes."

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and unease. "Yeah. It's going to be fine," I agreed, though her tone left me feeling less certain.

Meredith finally met my eyes, but the faint smile she offered was tinged with worry. "Okay," she said.

For a brief second, I thought about reaching for her hand again, but the look in her eyes stopped me. She was still miles away, lost in her thoughts. The unresolved tension hung between us, the weight of the past not so easily brushed aside. As Mia happily chattered about her pancakes, I could see Meredith's mind drifting back to all the moments before—moments when things were simpler, before they fell apart. And I couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how much we wanted to move forward, the past would always be right there with us, a shadow we couldn't quite escape, a permanent stain I would never be able to erase.

I drown and she saves me and yet I can't save her. I can't make this right. I can't take back what I did and who I was. I was the man that abandoned the best thing that ever happened to me just like her father, just like her mother, just like my mother, just like my father. I wanted to turn to sand.

"Mer" I felt myself whisper

She looked up "No matter what happens on this trip, I will make sure you are okay and Mia is okay. If it's too much, I'll tell them to leave and if you're uncomfortable for even a second, I'll take care of it. I promise." I told her and I meant it.

She nodded and offered me a genuine smile, it was brief but it was there and then Mia leaned over and kissed her mom right on the cheek as if she knew.