Mournful whispers and the faint scent of lilies filled the funeral home, wrapping around Meredith as she stepped through its doors. Her hands were tightly held by smaller hands, familiar warmth that she was hesitant to bring. But they had insisted the minute they had heard the news about their nana. She was loving towards them. She called and checked in. They received Christmas and birthday presents. Visits were rare but when they visited with their dad, they always returned to Seattle with dozens of stories about their time with Nana. Her homemade cookies, her knitting, the pictures she showed them, how she spoiled them. She was everything Ellis Grey could never be. Something she never aspired to. At least that's what Meredith thought.

And Meredith never really knew what having a grandparent was like anything. Thatcher picked up his things and left far too soon to ever ask him and Ellis never spoke of her own mother. Perhaps it was another skeleton well hidden in her closet.

But her children did know what it felt like. It was the one piece of traditional normalcy that she and Derek had managed to provide.

So denying them of saying their final goodbye couldn't and wouldn't be an option no matter how much Derek had insisted. He didn't want their children to be surrounded with so much grief, he'd argued. But when Meredith had explained they had asked and insisted, he reluctantly agreed.

The soft murmur of the gathered crowd echoed in the room where every pew was occupied, every corner spoken for, with people who had come to pay their respects to Carolyn Shepherd. She searched amongst the pews until a small group had moved away to reveal The Shepherd siblings—Derek, Amelia, Kathleen, Nancy, and Lizzie, their courteous smiles never reaching their eyes. Next to them a small table with a pale urn- a contrast to the Catholic traditions loosely held by the Shepherd household.

"Mom, can I go up? I want to go see Dad," Bailey's small voice cut through Meredith's mind. His hand trembled slightly in hers, but his gaze was fixed on Derek.

"Okay," Meredith whispered, releasing him. He darted across the room until he was swept up into his father's arms. Derek's startled eyes softened, crinkling at the corners as he held his son.

Zola remained by Meredith's side, her young fingers clutching her mother's hand. Torn between the two figures that anchored her world, she wavered. With a gentle squeeze, Meredith softly ran her hand up and down her back, "You okay, Zo?"

Zola nodded, and slowly, she released Meredith's hand. Without another word, she moved toward her father until she reached him. Derek smiled as she wrapped her lithe arms around him. His lips gently pressed at the top of her head.

Meredith watched as Derek's eyes scanned the room. He stopped the instant he saw her, his face softening with relief.

She was right. Of course she was right. The kids needed to be here. Not just for their own closure but selfishly, for himself.

Derek's lips formed a warm, thankful smile before he mouthed, "Thank you."

She smiles back and slowly makes her way to sit in the back pew. She watches him gently talk to their children for a moment and she recognizes what she sees.
Derek Shepherd is holding it together. He's politely smiling and making conversation. He's letting everyone else shatter as he holds it together because that's what he's always done. Because it's the right thing to do. It's the greatest battle he's ever had.

And ever lost.

And Meredith knows that deep down, he can't hold it together too much longer.

Some things are just inevitable.


The atmosphere hums with anecdotes and quiet laughter, punctuated by the clinking of glasses. Derek feels adrift amidst the swelling sea of relatives and friends he hasn't seen in what feels like eons. He's just drowning in pleasantries and condolences. He's caught up in conversation after conversation and excuses himself with a stupid excuse only to be caught up in another conversation with someone else. Someone else he doesn't recognize. Someone else he has to mask for.

His mother's friends tell him stories about their youth. Relatives he hasn't seen in years ask him endless questions. His nieces and nephews introduce significant others and catch him up on their lives. Lucas, his favorite nephew, catches him in a conversation about surgical internships and dreams, which Derek encourages with half a smile. Others approach and share memories of Carolyn—a woman who walked among them as both a friend and a confidante.

Bailey shadows Derek's movements, a constant presence until curiosity draws him toward Lucas and Derek is thankful for the silent moment to himself.

He finds himself sitting on the outdoor patio for a moment. The cold air numbs him even further and he sighs when he hears the door open. He's kept himself composed for weeks now but he swears that if the person who has crossed the threshold starts another conversation with him, he will explode.

But to his surprise it's Zola who slips beside him, her small head resting against his shoulder in a gesture hauntingly reminiscent of her mother. "You okay, Dad?"

Derek melts as he rests his own head against hers. His daughter, his eldest, his precious Zola who's been upset and angry at him and the world is sitting beside him. And the world suddenly makes some sense.

"I will be," he replies, the words as much a promise to himself as to her, "I'll be okay, Zo."

He goes back inside as guests begin to leave. Zola disappears once more and hasn't seen Bailey. Or Meredith for that matter. His sisters leave Nancy lingering, insisting on staying.

"You should be with family, you should come home with me-"

"Nancy-"

"I mean you alone in this big house?" she says, her voice piercingly high.

"I need to be alone," Derek says, his voice firm despite the exhaustion that seeps into his bones.

Nancy sighs before gently kissing her brother's cheek, "I'll call you in the morning."

He shuts the door behind her, leaning against the solid wood. It's quiet. Too quiet. He's left alone with nothing but his thoughts and suddenly the thing he's heard several times is a reality.

The loneliness becomes real when everyone goes home.

He pulls on his tie and considers his options. He can find a meeting, go and be in the company of the people broken just like him. Or he can simply sleep and let himself dream of the darkness his life is currently consumed by.

He pulls on his tie and checks his watch. Screw it, he thinks, screw it all. He storms towards the old study, confident that there will be a forgotten bottle stashed somewhere.

The sudden clank of dishes pulls him back. He freezes and listens to the sound again. Amelia, he thinks, Amelia must be lingering.

"Dammit," he mutters. He takes weary steps to the kitchen and stops at the entryway. He loosens on his tie as he follows the clatter of glasses and dishes, "Amy, I told you I was-"

There, amid the aftermath of condolences and casseroles, is the last person he'd ever expect. He stares at the blonde, lithe figure dressed in a black knee length dress. He'd recognize her anywhere. Suddenly, everything stops.

"Wh- what are you doing here?"

Meredith jolts. Her gentle blonde curls frame her face as she looks up from the dishwasher where she's stashed some plates and glasses.

"Just...A-Amelia took the kids back to the hotel. She was leaving and they were tired so she took them with her. Something about all of it being too much and," her voice falters ever so slightly before she added, "I- I- I was just putting some things in the dishwasher. And I-"

She stops unsure of how to continue. She sees the exhaustion in his face. The bags under his eyes tell her he hasn't slept and her instincts ring true. He needs someone. And when she needed someone, he was there.

Unconditionally.

So it's the least she can do.

Meredith sighs as she watches him step closer to her. He leans against the counter and waits for her

She shrugs, "I didn't want you to be alone."

Any composure Derek has shatters. He nods as he crosses his arms across his chest. He looks around and swallows a lump in his throat. He shifts against the island counter across from her and is unable to verbally thank her. Still she knows he is. It's just one of those things she can read off his face without him needing to be verbal.

She finally steps towards him, offering solace in her familiar embrace, and lets him break.

He slacks against her, wrapping his own arms around her waist. His back heaves under her hands as she glides them up and down in soothing strokes.

"I'm so sorry, Derek" she murmurs, her fingers tangled in his curls, and he lets himself be held, finally allowing the dam of his emotions to break, "I'm so sorry."

This is…rare. He's never let himself be so vulnerable around her. As far as she's concerned, the only times she's seen him be so vulnerable, so hurt, so unfathomably broken, have been the times he's numbed himself with alcohol.

Derek Shepherd you are drunk! And you're angry. And I've been there, so I get it but that does not give you right-

Just go home, Meredith!

You don't get there to just stand here and just tell me-

This is what you want? I'm giving you an out!

I'm not going anywhere-

I said leave! Meredith-!

Vulnerability has never been his strong suit. And truthfully it hasn't been hers either.

Derek Shepherd has spent his entire life holding things together—his family, his career, his pride. But here, in the quiet of his childhood home, in the arms of the woman who has always known how to put him back together, the woman he couldn't hold on to, he finally lets go.


Derek loosens his tie further, the fabric hanging aimlessly around his neck as he sat on the plush couch, feet propped on the coffee table. He looked weary but was making an effort to seem at ease for her sake. A failed effort but an effort nonetheless.

"It was quick," he says, breaking the silence. "She didn't suffer. Not for long." His voice wavers slightly, betraying the pain beneath the clinical detachment. "My sisters are pissed about her stopping treatment, but... she believed she'd see Dad again."

His eyes stop at a photograph hanging on the wall. The Shepherd clan standing happily on a ferryboat with the New York skyline behind them. He sighs, "I want to believe she was right."

Meredith sits opposite him, her body angled toward him. She's kicked off her black heels and she's pulled her legs under. She shifts to a more comfortable position. She's not sure how they got here- how they went from being in each other's arms to sitting next to each other on the old couch Carolyn refused to get rid of. There's a rational part of her that is screaming at her that she should leave. She's no longer his spouse and she has no reason to be here.

But there's a part whispering at her. It's whispering that he needs someone to show up. Someone who'll listen unconditionally. Who won't judge and won't force anything or anyone upon him. And she decides to listen to that part. Because abandoning him in a time of need is not something she could do. And it's something he didn't do.

She's not sure if she's suffocating him or if she's helping but being here feels…right.

She shakes her head and waits for a moment, "You could've told me. I would've tried to-"

"I would not put that on you," he turns to her, "Ever. I know your skill. I know you're the best. But I would never -"

"Derek," she insists, "I would've done everything-"

"I know you would. I don't doubt that," Derek gave a half-hearted shrug, his ocean-blue eyes staring off into some unfocused distance. "Besides I didn't know until it was too late. Mom's orders."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he rubs his face with both his hands before he closes his eyes. He opens his eyes suddenly and turns to her, "Where's Ellie? Is she back in Seattle with-"

"No, uh" Meredith shifts, "She's back at the hotel. She threw a full tantrum about how Bailey and Zola get to see you so Maggie flew out with us and she spent the day with her. I thought it was still a little to be here."

"Sounds like your kid," he smiles, "Thanks for bringing them. You were right. It's good that they came."

Her lips curl up slightly, "You'd do the same for me. You've done the same for me."

She reaches for his arm and squeezes it softly before pulling away. It's strange, she thinks. They've spent years fighting and avoiding each other. Years keeping a respectful distance to remain as cordial as possible for the sake of their children. And yet, over the last several months, they've both gone through nearly impossible circumstances and it's each other that consoles the other. It's him that opened his home and moved the world for consistency in their lives. And it's her that's sitting with him as he tries to make sense of losing a parent.

"Hell of a year," he exhales, as if he's read her mind.

"Yeah, hell of a year," she agrees. She watches as he rubs his forhead, "You know it's not your fault right?"

"What?" Derek turns to her with his brows furrowed, "What isn't my fault?"

"Your mom not telling you about the cancer and stopping the treatments. I know you're trying to figure out how you could've stopped it but it wasn't and isn't your fault."

He watches her for a moment, "Then why do I feel like it is?"

"Because you're you," she answers sincerely, "You take on everyone's problems and make them your own. You try to fix everything and make things better for everyone. You did it your whole life. Your mom, Amelia-"

"Yeah except I didn't fix anything, did I?" he closes his eyes again and rubs the space between his brows, "I never fix anything. I just break things."

"I think I fix things but I don't. And then I end up blaming it on everyone else. I did it with Amelia. I told Mom I'd take care of her and I tried- God I tried. But she just, I just," he pauses, unsure of how to continue, "And our marriage. You. Our kids. I-"

Meredith stares at him. Waiting for him to finish. But he doesn't.

"Sorry," he grimaces, "My sobriety program says that I need to actually say the things that are bothering me and not just shove them down my throat. It's why I tend to lash out and drink."

"You don't need to apologize," she whispers, "You can…you can say anything to me."

He hums again, unsure of how honest he can be. Of how honest he should be.

"You can talk to me, you know?" she gently offers, "If you need to- if you need a- you can talk. I can listen. I can be here for you."

He ponders for a moment, "Thanks."

"Why didn't you tell me all of this before? Why didn't you-?"

"I guess because you didn't ask," he whispers, "I uh- nevermind."

"Honesty, remember?" She reminds him.

He chuckles. She's still bossy. Still keeping him in line even after all these years.

"I guess I thought if I told you these things, I'd be adding more to," he shrugs, "You drowned and I didn't want…I was scared. It was better to pretend it didn't exist."

She understands. She had closed herself off like a book. And suddenly it clicks. This? These silent omissions from each other have contributed to the demise of their marriage. And it seems that he's also realized this because what he says next surprises her.

"Sorry," he apologizes, "I should've…sorry."

She's filled with regrets too.

"Yeah," she whispers, understanding what he's apologizing for, "Me too."

They're silent for a moment before he asks once more, "Zo? I heard about the panic attacks-"

Her eyes widen, "I didn't want to add-"

"I know," he leaves out the fact that he would've liked to know because right now what matters is how they will help their child and not a petty fight. Her intentions were good as far as he knows, "Is she okay?"

"She's okay," Meredith nods, "Dr. Williams- her therapist- says it's a storm of things and she's better. I think she's better."

"Bailey?"

"He misses his dad," she chuckles slightly, "He's in a house full of girls and no one to bail him out. He misses you. They all do."

"I miss them too," a faint smile graces his features and for a brief moment, the world lifts off his shoulders. His children- their children- are everything. He'd walk through fire for them and he's certain she would too. They are what's driven him forward and in the darkest of times, they are the guiding lights in his life.

And he has her to thank for that. Because despite the mess they've made, Zola Grey, Derek Bailey, and Ellis Carolyn are a product of the depth of love Meredith and Derek once had…have…had?

"Do you remember the last time you saw me?" he shifts his body to face her, his elbow leaning against the back of the couch, "That night that you called me? When you were... drunk?"

A blush creeps onto Meredith's cheeks, "I don't..I-I- what- I don't remember much,"

Derek shakes his head as he chuckles lightly. He's always found it charming the way she stumbles into her words.

Meredith exhales, "But thank you for taking me back to Maggie's. She- she told me you took me back to her place."

"Of course," he replies with a nod, "I'm glad you called me and didn't try to go home yourself."

"Give me some credit, I'm not that stupid," she scoffs.

Derek chuckles, "I'm saying thank you for trusting me."

She does trust him, she wants to say. But the last nearly decade has proven otherwise. So instead she asks, "Did I- do something? Or say something?"

Derek studies her thinking back to the way her green eyes glistened as she confessed things he's not sure she completely meant. He could tell her the truth. He can tell her she told him she still loved him and she tried and is trying to forget it. He can tell her that of course he feels the same and he's sorry he's let so many years go by and he's sorry he's just a drunk.

Or…

"You said you wouldn't go to bed with me," he decides to tell her, watching as she covers her face with her hands, mortified. He smiles at the shade of red on her face "And then you called me an alcoholic."

"I'm so sorry-," she mumbles from behind her fingers.

He waves it away, dismissing the need for apologies. He reaches for the glass of water on the table, "Stop, it's the truth. I am an alcoholic."

"Derek-"

"If I hadn't found you in the kitchen," he twists the glass in his hands, "I probably would've looked for whatever bottle there was left. Scotch, brandy, wine. I probably would've gone off and found a bar. You saved me tonight."

She blinks. Years ago, he would've done an excellent job at hiding his drinking from her.

"Do you want to find a meeting?" She reaches for his hand and squeezes it, offering solace and comfort, "I can go with you or take you or-"

He stills, surprised at her offer. And at the warm feeling of his hand in hers.

"The last one that's nearby was at midnight. It's the one I usually go to," he looks down at their intertwined hands and smiles, "but you- you being here helps. Thank you."

They're silent for a while, the hum of the old refrigerator in the kitchen echoes through the walls.

"It's late," He stands up and releases her hand.

Meredith shifts, "Oh, I should get- "

He stuffs his hands into his pocket, "There's a guest room with clean sheets. It's late, the drivers out here this late are pretty sleazy. You should stay."

She shakes her head at his incessant overprotectiveness.

"I shouldn't, I-," she begins.

"Your ex-husband and the father of your children just told you that he was tempted to have a drink moments before he found you lurking in the kitchen. And he picked you up at the bar and dragged your ass to your sister's house. I'd say you owe me one," he says, a shadow of a playful smile crossing his face.

"Derek-"

"You know if my mother was here, she'd insist on you staying. She'd actually be upset that you would think you and the kids had to stay elsewhere," he said. The smirk on his face told her he knew exactly what he was doing, "You really want to disappoint my dead mother?"

"Using the dead mom thing," she nodded approvingly. She sees it then. The gentle mischief and charm that he'd always encompassed. She sees it briefly in the glimmer of his blue eyes and in the way his smile curls up, "It's a little dark for you but it's a good one"

"I learned from the best," he smiled, "C'mon, I'll get you something to sleep in."

As she follows him to the guest room, a secret knowledge holds firm.

Her heart sinks, her mind runs. Because she remembers every slurred word, every tearful admission from that drunken night before he left.

And in the silence of her own mind, she whispers the words she had spoken, the true confession she had dared to utter only when shrouded in inebriation.

She remembers but she's just too much of a coward to repeat them in her sober state.


Meredith leaves the ratty Bowdin t-shirt and blue sweatpants he had offered neatly folded on the bed when she heads back to the hotel early the following morning. He doesn't even notice until he wakes to a text message with the location of the hotel she's supposed to be staying with the kids. He showers, eats breakfast, and drives out to the hotel determined to make the most of the short time he'll have with his children before they head back home.

They sit like spectators, the lobby's orange couch a stand-in for stadium bleachers as they watch guests flood the hotel entrance. Ellis counts the luggage carts as they zoom past, while Bailey fidgets, his body all restless anticipation. Zola stares out the windows, eyes fixed on the grey New York sky next to her Aunt Maggie.

Meredith glances at them as she waits by the concierge desk, making arrangements for their departure later in the evening. She glances down at her watch and fidgets before the man helping her makes his way back towards her.

"Daddy!" Ellis shouts, her voice cutting through the noise of arrivals and departures. She leaps from her seat and zooms towards him. Bailey follows and Maggie chuckles at the sight.

Derek smiles. Any and all signs of grief are swallowed by the joy his children give him. He crouches to his youngest's level and chuckles as she crashes into him. Bailey envelopes him tightly before he notices that one Grey-Shepherd has decided to stay back.

Zola's mouth curls up before making her way towards him. His youngests let go and let their older sister greet their father.

"Daddy, you came!" Ellis gleefully shrieks, "I missed you!"

"Are you kidding me? You came all the way to New York to see me," he says, wrapping them all in his arms, "I wasn't gonna miss out on spending a day with you three."

They laugh as they pull away.

"Are you okay?" Zola asks, concern etched on her delicate features

"Hey," Derek reaches for her cheek and gently caresses it, "It's my job to worry. I'm the dad. You're the kid. I'm okay. Are you?"

Zola's mouth twists into an unconvincing smile "She told you. Mom told you about-"

"I was gonna find out one way or another," he cups her face, "Are you okay? I heard they're worse this time."

"I'm fine," she shrugs him away before making her way to sit with her aunt, "Dad, I'm fine."

He blinks. Zola never shrugged him away. Zola never pushed him away. This is a first.

"What's the first thing we're doing?" Ellis asks, unaware of the way her father's face crumbles in confusion.

"The ferryboat," Bailey declares, convinced that it was the most important, the best. Derek chuckles as he tries to lift the spirits up again.

"You'll have to wait and see," Derek teases,

Amelia enters the lobby, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail, a small carry-on wheeling behind her. She watches the scene unfold, watching Derek being the center of their universe, the gravity that pulled them all together. Watching him be a father. Sometimes reminding her of the man she didn't get to know, but loved truly and deeply. He's a lot like him- like their dad.

"Aunt Amelia, are you coming with us?" Bailey asks, curious but indifferent. He hadn't noticed the suitcase.

Amelia shakes her head, a lighthearted refusal, "Not this time, kid. I've got a plane to catch. Uncle Link and Scout are waiting for me."

"You don't like New York?" Ellis asked, the surprise clear in her voice, as if the idea was the most foreign, the most unlikely thing in the world.

Amelia laughed, ruffled Ellis's hair. "Not as much as I like Seattle."

Ellis wouldn't give up, wouldn't let it go without a fight. She crosses her arms, a pose that means business, "Then, I think Mommy and Aunt Maggie should come. We can have fun together!"

"Oh," Maggie grimaces, "I uh, I'm also taking a flight back with Aunt Amelia. I have to get back to a surgery."

"Oh," Ellis frowns, "Is mom leaving too?"

"She is not," Maggie responds, "In fact-"

Meredith's footsteps echo as she approaches the group. She offers a slight smile to Derek as their eyes meet, "Hey."

"Hey," he smiles back, "I got your text. Thanks."

"Of course," she whispers.

They don't notice, but Zola watches them from where she sits. She eyes the pair and closely pays attention to the way her mom's hand seems to want to reach for her dad. But instead she shoves it into the pocket of her jeans.

"Dad says we're gonna spend the day exploring New York," Bailey announces.

As if on cue, Ellis excitedly adds, "Momma! You have to come with us! You have to come see the ferryboats!"

Amelia watched Derek's reaction, watched the way hope and fear flickered across his face. She grabbed the suitcase handle, her smile knowing and sympathetic.

"Well, you guys have lots of fun for me, okay? I'll see you all back home," Amelia announces before turning to Maggie, "You ready?"

"I am just gonna go get my suitcase," Maggie awkwardly turns to Meredith and Derek before reaching for her nieces and nephew, "You guys have a lot of fun okay? I'll see you all back in Seattle."

Meredith's eyes widened at her sister, as if silently pleading her to stay. But Maggie would not be anyone's savior today. Instead, she quickly made her way down the lobby and disappeared into an elevator.

Derek nods at his sister, "Call me when you land?"

"I will," Amelia embraces him tightly before releasing him and walking towards the door. Her departure leaving a sudden emptiness within him.

"Please, Mommy?" Ellis repeats, her voice a combination of hope and certainty, as if she'd already won.

Meredith's heart quickens, the question hanging like a fragile thing between her and the kids. She doesn't want to break them. She doesn't want to raise their hopes up. She doesn't want to make things awkward for her children on a day that should be a day well spent with their father. Still, the offer is tempting.

"I think your dad already has the day-"

"You should," Derek stuffs his hands into his pocket, "Join us I mean. If you want. It'd be nice for all of us to spend the day. For the kids."

Right. She thinks. For the kids. She glances at the way their eyes glimmer with excitement and how Zola's are filled with interest, as if testing which way the pendulum might swing. Maybe, Meredith thinks, this might be a successful day. Or it could end in complete disaster. They never made it a point for family excursions in the first place. Especially since the divorce.

Still, missing moments like these is something she promised herself she'd never do. She didn't have any of them as a child and her children deserved better. They deserved so much better.

"Okay," she finally agrees, catching up to their enthusiasm, matching it. "We'll all go."

Ellis and Bailey cheer excitedly. Zola's smile comes slowly, but when it does, it stays, settling on her face with quiet resolve.

"Are you sure?" Derek asks again. He doesn't want to push, doesn't want to lose the delicate balance, the moment that stretched and held and didn't break.

"Yeah it'll be-," Meredith says, the hint of a smile in her voice, "It'll be nice. It'll be good."

Zola stands quickly, "We should go. Before it gets late."

Derek leads the kids outside the hotel and Meredith falls into step with them, her presence as natural as it was unexpected. She exhales slowly. This is…new. She is probably making a mistake. Thoughts run through her mind. She should stay. She should stay and catch up on work. Catch up on readings. Maybe go to the stupid spa the hotel advertises.

But the excitement and hope on her children's face have won her over.

Derek doesn't know how to show his gratitude without it spilling over, without it becoming too much, so he smiles at her instead, a quiet thank you that holds all the things he can't say, all the things he won't say, not yet.

Maybe not ever if it meant more moments like this


The hour drive down to the city is worth the sight of her children excitedly boarding the orange ferryboat. It pushes through water that was restless and eager, a hundred passengers crowding at the railings to catch the best view. And still, Derek had magically managed to find a near empty area where the five of them could quietly enjoy the view.

She gets it, she thinks. She gets why he obsesses over these damn boats. It's the beauty of the views. The peaceful motion of the water. The way the wind blows away all the problems life has to offer. She understands why he can find peace here.

And apparently so have his children.

The trio stand next to their father by the railing, excitement and curiosity all over their faces. Meredith stands further back, watching, and feels the current pull her too, pull her into something she couldn't yet name.

Derek's energy surprises her. He was all-in, fully committed to each moment, each laugh, each exclamation of joy that escaped from the kids' mouths. He wears the mantle of fatherhood with ease and conviction, his mourning overshadowed by the force of his love for them. Meredith had half-expected to find him brittle, a shell of the man she once knew, but instead he seems more solid than he had in a long time.

This must be how he is when he's with the children. But it's something she can't fully confirm because…well because they've never truly bothered to spend time together. This is…new.

Ellis points wildly at each new landmark, her voice loud and clear above the roar of the ferry's engine. "Look, Daddy! Look!" she calls.

"I see it!" he shouts back, his grin infectious.

Zola leans against the railing, close to Derek but not clinging to him like her younger sister did. She keeps up a stream of chatter, telling him everything that she'd saved up, everything she hadn't had the chance to say. Derek listened intently, nodding at the right moments, answering her questions and offering gentle reassurances where he could. Bailey was quieter, but Derek knew he was there, knew that the nearness was enough.

It's peaceful. Beautiful. A sense of family that was gone long ago.

Meredith feels the need to take a picture, to capture this, to make it last. But the act of doing so would somehow make it less real, less meaningful, and she stops herself before reaching for the phone in her jacket pocket. Instead, she holds it all in her memory, the sharpness of it cutting through her disbelief, through her certainty that this couldn't possibly last.

Her initial reluctance to come along was washed away with the spray of the river. She thought of the morning, of the day unfolding as it was now, of Derek and the kids on their own. Maybe she was afraid, afraid that she'd feel left out, left behind, that the togetherness would remind her too much of what they'd lost.

But they hadn't lost this. They hadn't lost everything. That was the most surprising part.

The ferry horn blasts, signaling its approach to the next stop, but Derek and the kids paid it no attention. They were on their own course, their own time, oblivious to the city and the tourists and the strangers pressing around them.

The kids glowed with energy, with delight, each responding to Derek in their own way. Meredith watches their faces, saw the light in their eyes, and knew it was real. Knew it was true.

Ellis was all motion, all arms and legs and irrepressible excitement. Her joy was as simple and uncomplicated as she was, and Meredith felt it reverberate through the rest of them, through Derek most of all.

Zola was more measured, but her happiness was no less sincere. It grew slowly, filling her expression with the relief of a thousand doubts laid to rest. Meredith had never seen her quite like this, quite so at ease.

Bailey watched the water, but Meredith knew he was watching Derek too, gauging, measuring, feeling out the space that stretched between them and making sure it was safe, making sure it was solid.

The ferry rocked gently, the kind of motion that could lull even the most uncertain heart into a sense of comfort, a sense of security.

She edged closer, still a few feet away, but closing the gap. It was hard to imagine that this was the same man who had fallen apart the night before, hard to imagine that his grief hadn't shattered him, hadn't taken him to the places they'd both feared he'd go. But even she has to admit that being around the kids is…magical somehow. They're optimism and hope in the view is infectious. A quality they learned from him. At least the man he was when she first met him.

You know you keep taking everything on faith. How do you know what's real and what's not?

You just do.

Meredith watches as he mumbles something to the kids and they nod before Derek makes his way towards her. His hands in the pocket of his coat, shielding him from the New York winds.

"Hey, you okay?" He sits next to her.

She blinks as she straightens, "Yeah, I'm good."

"You sure? You're all the way over here. Not enjoying the view?" His voice dances between concern and teasing, that familiar cadence she'd once known by heart.

"I am," Meredith assures him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as the wind attempts to claim it. "Just taking it all in. The kids are so happy."

"Yeah," he smiles as he watches them. They sit in comfortable silence, keeping to themselves as they take in the sight. She wants to turn to him but refrains. Instead she keeps her eyes forward, focused on their kids.

Derek, however, turns to her. He watches how her protective nature is making sure that their children are safe. How the tender side of her is enjoying watching their children be so carefree. He missed this. These moments of just taking her in.

"Thank you," he says finally, his voice barely audible above the wind and water. "For coming today. I know this is..." he gestures vaguely between them, searching for the right word, "...awkward. Different. Not what we usually do."

Ellis has found a small puddle on the deck and is carefully stepping around it while Bailey watches, occasionally offering what appears to be scientific explanations for the water's behavior. Zola stands a bit apart, her phone out now, capturing the Manhattan skyline as it gradually comes into clearer view.

"I'm glad I came," she admits, surprising herself with how easily the words come to her. They needed this after everything that's happened. The fire, losing their grandmother..."

She trails off, suddenly aware that she might be reopening wounds that were still raw. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he shakes his head, "You're right. They needed this. I needed this."

She smiles, "Me too."

Derek turns to her and smiles back before a comfortable silence settles.

"It's... different seeing you with them like this. They're different with you."

Derek's eyes crinkle at the corners as he watches their children, a subtle pride softening his features. "Is that a…bad thing?"

"No! No, no, I just mean they're lighter. It's good. It's a good different," Her gaze follows Ellis as she skips around the puddle, her laughter carrying on the wind. "Bailey's been so quiet lately, and Zola..." She trails off, the unspoken concerns hanging between them.

"She's struggling," Derek acknowledges, his voice low enough that only Meredith can hear. "I can feel it. She's trying so hard to be okay, but there's something..." He shakes his head, unable to articulate the subtle shift he's noticed in their daughter.

Meredith shifts, "When are you coming home?"

His head snaps towards her.

"I mean, t-t-to Seattle," she says nervously, "When are you coming back to Seattle?"

Derek watches the water for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he considers her question. The wind ruffles his hair, and Meredith resists the familiar urge to brush it back into place.

"Not for a while," he admits, his voice carrying a weight she recognizes. "Mom's house... there's a lot to sort through."

He turns to face her, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a mixture of resignation and determination. "The sisters have unanimously decided I'm the executor of everything."

She blinks before turning back. The ferry rocks gently beneath them, spray occasionally misting over the railing. The cold droplets kiss Meredith's cheeks as she listens, her disappointment settling like a stone in her stomach despite her understanding.

"You're mad," he says knowingly, "I know. I'm sorry. You should be. It's been tough with the kids and I want to go home, I do, but I need to get things settled-"

"You're running," she says calmly before turning to face him, "Well no you're not you've already ran you're just…not running back."

"Meredith-"

"I'm not mad," she says softly, "I'm not angry and look, right now things are tough with the kids, you're right, they are. But I can handle it while you're here. I can take care of them, it's my job, I'm their mom."

"You're making it sound like I'm abandoning-"

"I know you're not," she nods, "But I also know that if our kids are going to be okay, we need to be okay."

She points to the space between them. To the distance between them. The distance they've made.

"We need to be okay," Her hand falls back onto her lap. They each need to be okay. And as co-parents…friends…whatever they were…they needed to be okay. If they're children had any chance, they needed to show them what that looked like. And though she selfishly wants him to return to Seattle, she knew this was not what he needed now.

"Hey Mom? Dad?" Zola approaches them with her phone in hand, "Can we, um, take a picture? By the rail? It's just so pretty that I-"

"Oh! Yes, I can take it. Your dad should-"

"No, I meant," Zola offers a small smile, "Like all of us. You and dad and Bailey and Ellis? We're never together and I just thought- never mind-"

"Wait!" Derek quickly stands, "We should take a picture. C'mon I can ask someone to take it for us."

Meredith blinked in surprise before turning back to her daughter, "Zola, what are you up to?"

"Nothing! I just..." she tucks her phone against her chest, "we don't have many pictures of all of us anymore. Not together. And Nana had a lot in her house so…"

The truth of this statement hangs between them like the mist from the water. Meredith couldn't remember the last time they'd all been captured in a single frame—Derek always behind the camera or she behind another. And Zola's right. Photographs are the only pauses in life and as Carolyn's recent passing has proven, life is simply too short.

"It's a good idea," Meredith conceded, rising from her seat.

Derek has already flagged down a friendly-looking older woman, who nods enthusiastically at his request. He motions for everyone to gather by the railing, the Manhattan skyline stretching behind them.

"Come on, Bailey, Ellis!" he calls, and the younger children rush over excitedly.

They arrange themselves awkwardly at first—Derek with Ellis on one side, Meredith with Bailey on the other, and Zola hesitating in the middle. The woman with the phone waits patiently.

"You guys look like you're posing for different pictures,"

she laughs, "Scoot in closer!"

Derek's arm extends behind the children, not quite touching Meredith but closing the gap between them. Ellis wiggles to stand in front of her father, while Bailey leans back against Meredith. Zola settles between them all, her smile genuine for the first time in what feels like forever.

"Perfect!" the woman exclaims, taking several shots in quick succession. "Beautiful family!"


They spend the day exploring. It's his hometown after all and Central Park seemed to be the next practical stop. Its sprawling green spaces are dotted with autumn's first golden leaves- a thing of books, really.

The children walk ahead as Meredith and Derek walk behind them, the space between them filled with awkward silence.

"How's the hospital?" he asks in a vain attempt to start a conversation.

"Oh, you know," Meredith replies with a casual shrug,

"Wild as usual."

Her eyes flickering with amusement.

Derek chuckles softly, "Has Bailey quit yet? She threatened all of us before I left."

Meredith giggles at the thought of the commanding woman barking orders, "No, not yet. But, I'm sure she's waiting for the first pin to drop to fire anyone."

Derek nods, a hum of agreement escaping his lips.

"How about you? You've been taking care of me and the kids this whole trip, I haven't even asked. How are you?"

Meredith's eyes soften as she smiles gently. She recognizes the genuine curiosity in his blue eyes. His earnest hope that she's well.

"I moved back to the house."

"I heard," Derek replies, his voice lifting with excitement, "I bet you're happy to be home."

"I am," she smiles, "And the kids are happy so it's a relief really."

"Good," he smiles before clearing his throat, "Did you manage to fix things with Nick?"

Meredith let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly. "No," she said with a resigned shrug. "He didn't come back and I didn't bother looking."

Derek nodded, his expression sympathetic. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Meredith shook her head firmly. "I'm not."

He turned to her, a hint of pride lighting up his features.

"So then Minnesota is out of the picture," he says knowingly.

She ponders his statement for a moment not believing that there was a time she was ready to leave everything in Seattle and start anew. Now, after everything, after the fire, she can't picture being anywhere else.

"Yes," she affirms. "Seattle is home. It's always been home."

Derek nods, a flicker of something—relief? satisfaction?—crossing his face before he turns his attention back to their children ahead.

"Mom! Dad!" Ellis calls out as she points a few steps ahead, "Can we go on the carousel?"

Meredith stops and a sudden voice echoes in her head.

The carousel never stops turning.

What the hell is she doing? Why is she here? Why is she imposing on her children's time with their father? Why is she pretending she didn't spill embarrassing words at the bar weeks ago? Why is she pretending she can just move on from the wreckage they've left behind?

"Yeah!" Derek happily answers. He turns to Meredith when he realizes she's not following, "You coming?"

She wants to run. She wants to say that she should go back to the hotel and make some phone calls. Make up a patient that needs her and she just forgot. But then she sees her children far ahead and realizes that she can't do that to them. She can't do that to him.

Her mother had made her decisions. She left Thatcher and ran from Seattle in search of greatness. And though Meredith would like to understand that Ellis' career paved the way for her own, she still can't grasp how little she cared for her daughter. At least it seemed that way sometimes.

She's not Ellis. Derek is not Richard. And he's no Thatcher. Their problems are their own and there's no reason why their children should bear it.

So she stays.

She stares at her children. Then at Derek and nods, "Yeah, I'm coming."


As evening approaches, they find themselves at a small Italian restaurant, tucked away from the tourist crowds. The children's excited chatter fills the warm space as they recount their favorite parts of the day.

"And then Dad said we could go on the carousel, but Ellis was scared-," Bailey announces, his voice carrying that mix of big-brother teasing and genuine affection.

"Even though she was the one who wanted to get on," Zola adds.

"I wasn't scared!" Ellis protests, her cheeks flushing. "I just didn't want to go on the horse that went up and down."

Derek laughs.

Meredith watches them, something warm and familiar blooming in her chest. She catches Zola studying her across the table, her daughter's eyes filled with unspoken questions.

"What?" Meredith asks softly, tilting her head.

Zola shrugs, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Nothing," she says, but her gaze flickers between her parents with quiet assessment, "It's just- today was nice. Thank you."

"Yeah," Bailey agrees, "Thanks."

"Can we do this again?" Ellis asks excitedly, "When we're back home?"

An awkward silence falls over the table. The question lingers innocently but with heavy weight. Derek's eyes meet Meredith's across the table, both searching and asking for the right answer.

"Well," Derek begins carefully, setting his fork down, "I'm not coming back to Seattle right away, sweetie."

Ellis's face falls, her lower lip jutting out slightly. "But you said you were coming home."

"I am," Derek assures her, his voice gentle but firm. "Just not right away. Maybe just a couple of weeks. There's still a lot to take care of here."

"Like what?" Bailey asks, his practical nature seeking concrete answers.

Derek sighs,"Like Nana's house, her things. Grown up stuff you shouldn't worry about."

"But you're coming back right?" Zola asks nervously, "You're coming back."

Derek's eyes meet Meredith's briefly before turning to his eldest daughter.

"Yes," he says with quiet certainty. "I'm coming back."

Zola seems to exhale a breath she's been holding. "Promise?"

"I promise," Derek reaches across the table, his hand finding Zola's. "Seattle is home. Your mom was just reminding me of that."

There was a time when promises between them were complicated things, weighed down by history and hurt. A history that was stained with ex-wives and mothers with Alzheimer's. They were complicated. Meredith and Derek had been so complicated. But there was a time where they weren't. Where his promises were everything. When she believed them. And then there wasn't.

But this promise to their children is clean. Uncomplicated. True.

"When you come back," Zola says, her voice gaining confidence, "maybe we could do something like this again? All of us?"

I'd like that," he says simply, his gaze still connected with Meredith's. "If your mom's okay with it."

Meredith feels the weight of three children's hopeful stares. She offers a small smile, careful not to promise too much. "Maybe we can all have dinner together sometimes."

It's not everything the kids have asked for, but it's something real, something possible.

And something Meredith can believe in.


She's watched as he's carried Ellis down several blocks. Her lithe arms wrapped around him insisting how tired she was and of course Derek, ever the doting father, immediately providing relief in his arms. Throughout the day, Meredith has observed these moments with a strange mixture of warmth and melancholy. The way Derek's hand naturally finds Bailey's shoulder when they cross busy intersections. How Zola stays close to her father's side, her hand occasionally brushing against his arm as if to reassure herself he's still there.

These are the moments she's missed seeing. Not because they didn't happen, but because she wasn't there to witness them. Their fights and inability to be in the same room without referees for long periods of time eliminated any observations of this kind. But now she sees it.

The night air wraps around them as they stand outside the hotel entrance, a gentle breeze carrying the distant sounds of the city. They've said their goodbyes and now their children have disappeared through the revolving doors, Bailey guiding Ellis with careful attention while Zola lingered just inside the glass, pretending to check her phone but watching her parents with careful eyes.

Streetlights cast long shadows across the sidewalk, illuminating Derek's face in fragments—the curve of his jaw, the tired lines around his eyes, the slight upturn of his mouth that isn't quite a smile but something softer, more vulnerable. He stands with his hands in his pockets, a habit Meredith recognizes from years of knowing him, from years of loving him.

Dammit, she thinks. She's not supposed to think that.

"At what time does your flight leave?" Derek asks a

waving at the children inside with a lingering glance.

"Early in the morning. I pushed the flight earlier today," Meredith replies, "Thanks for today. The kids really- they loved spending time with you."

"Thank you for coming," he smiles.

"It felt..." Meredith pauses, her eyes searching his face for something she can't quite name. She laughs, "Normal."

He laughs with her,"Normal? I don't know if we've ever been that."

She shakes her head, "No but, today was good. It was really good."

They stand in silence for a moment. Meredith tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit she's never quite broken.

"Come home," she blurts out, the words tumbling out before she can stop them. "I know you have things to take care of here, but... come home."

Derek's eyes find hers, searching, questioning. "Meredith—"

"The kids need you," she insists, her voice stronger, underlined with a desperate hope, "And you need them. You said it yourself—Seattle is home."

He nods slowly, his expression softening. "I will."

"You promise?" she asks, echoing Zola's earlier question, though the weight of it feels different now, heavier between them.

"I promise," he says, and for the first time in years, Meredith believes him.

From now on, you can expect that I'm gonna show up.

Derek studies her face in the glow of the hotel's entrance lights, noticing the slight flush in her cheeks from the evening chill. There's something between them. An electric energy or some sort of invisible string between them.

"You should go," Derek murmurs, though his feet remain planted, unwilling to move away, "Early flight tomorrow-"

"I should- yeah, I should go," she agrees before turning back towards the hotel.

"Meredith?"

She instantly turns, trying to ignore the aching pull deep within her heart.

"Thank you. For everything." he says, a tender smile touching his lips, "I'll see you when I get home."

That's the thing about inevitability, she realizes. About things that are just somehow meant to be, no matter the distance or time apart.

"You're welcome," she replies before finally turning back and walking into the hotel where their children wait.

You can't control what is and what isn't.

Three weeks later, she finds herself proving it when the doorbell rings unexpectedly at her house. Just as she's about to head out, she groans inwardly at the thought of unplanned visitors intruding on her day.

She's on her way out and groans at the thought of visitors. She grabs her coat and shoves it on as she unlocks the door, "I'm on my way out! I-"

She stops in her tracks, her words catching in her throat as she blinks in surprise at the figure standing before her

"Hey," she smiles.

Derek stands there, noticeably slimmer and visibly fitter than she remembers. His curls are longer now, and he resembles a shadow of the man who had once promised her he'd show up.

He beams back at her, his eyes twinkling with a familiar warmth. "Hey."


A/N: Ahhhhh!

That's more me screaming that there's finally an update! I wanted this chapter to encapsulate how Derek and Meredith both show up for each other despite the years of battling and the boyfriends/girlfriends and jealousy. They share children and they get each other deeper than others do. And when Meredith had her tragedy in the early chapters, Derek showed up. Now it was her turn. And she remembers the bar. She totally does! I made it clear she does! She's not ready to admit it...if she ever does.

And so now we head to the next act of our story. And we're still Zola here. Hoping, being angry, giving up, and suddenly realizing that hope shouldn't fully go away. Right? Our poor girl. I love her and I was once her.

I loved writing Meredith and Derek at Carolyn's house. I had this visual of the whole thing and it just wouldn't leave my mind so I hope you enjoyed it too. Please let me know your thoughts. I actually really digest them and build on what you think.

Also, MerDer day is coming! I have a one-shot in the works thats- once again- out of my norm and comfort zone but I am EXCITED! I've never done anything for the day. So keep an eye out.