Author's Note: This story picks up immediately after "Didn't We Almost Have It All" (Season 3 Finale) so there is much damage to be repaired. I need to clear away all of Shonda's "Burn it all down" debris to build it back up. Please know from the outset that I am a huge MerDer shipper, so I will make things work for them. It's just going to take a while. Lots of things to repair and loose ends to tie up…
When Meredith opened her eyes to look at the alarm clock, she didn't mind that she had only had a couple hours of sleep, if that. Although exhausted from the previous day's events, her body simply refused to sleep any longer. Her eyes were wide open and her mind was racing to places far, far away from the calm of sleep.
It's over. It's so over.
She rubbed her hands over her eyes, helping them slowly adjust from the deep blackness of sleep to the intrusive red digits beaming from the alarm clock. She still couldn't comprehend exactly what had happened the yesterday. Even though she had witnessed Burke's conversation with Cristina, she couldn't believe that they weren't going to have their happily ever after. And the march up the aisle toward Derek to announce that everyone should go home had been the longest walk of her life. She had been looking forward to the wedding, to the sense of relief she would feel when it was all over and she and Derek would follow Cristina and Burke back up the aisle to the rear of the church, celebrating their best friends' marriage. She expected to have a great time at the reception, knowing that her friend had made it and that she could finally be with Derek. They would laugh and dance and drink, and she had no doubt that after the romance of the evening she could lure him back home to bed with her for a long overdue marathon of sex. But instead, she found herself sleeping in the cold space normally occupied by Preston Burke on an overly hard mattress with a broken friend.
The night had been painful and awkward. Surreal almost. Cristina sobbed uncontrollably, a sight that caused Meredith's stomach to clutch in anger and disbelief at the situation. And although Cristina didn't try to talk about it, Meredith imagined her pain acutely, envisioning how she would feel if Derek had done the same thing to her. In some ways, he had. He had asked her to let him go…to end this and put him out of his misery. To release him so he could go flirt with girls he met at Joe's. The bright and shiny Merediths like the one he had fallen in love with a year ago, not the dark and twisty one that he was with now.
I make him miserable. I have to let him go, Meredith thought to herself, and she felt the tears that she had exhausted the night before begin to replenish themselves. She looked over at her friend, still sound asleep next to her, and began to imagine the ways they'd get through this together. Maybe they could take up jogging again, or engage in some retail therapy during their rare moments off. And tequila. Lots and lots of tequila. Still, none of this sounded too appealing to Meredith, and she wiped her eyes defensively as she rolled out of bed, careful not to wake Cristina.
5a.m. I can be at the hospital before 6 and find a way to make myself useful. Maybe check on Adele and see if the chief is still there or find a good surgery for the day. Meredith bit her lower lip as she imagined herself arriving there so early, trying to think of some excuse for the extra time spent there. Surely everyone knew by now what had happened at the wedding, maybe no one would expect her to talk about it. But deep down she knew that even if no one confronted Meredith directly, everyone would be talking, whispering, and speculating. And they would confront her, because they liked gossip and talking to Meredith was far easier than talking to the abandoned bride.
I'll go and defend Cristina. I'll stop the whispering before she goes back to work. Feeling more determined that she needed to go, she quietly slid out of the bedroom, found her keys, and made her way out the door. Cristina would instinctively know where her friend went when she woke up, so a note was unnecessary. She decided that she wouldn't even stop home to change out of the old sweatpants and t-shirt she had borrowed from Cristina. She would just shower once she got to the hospital. She was feeling indescribably claustrophobic, and she urgently needed to leave.
Derek sprawled on the couch in his office, his legs dangling over the arm of it since he was too tall to fit comfortably. His tie and jacket functioned as an acceptable makeshift pillow as he stared up at the ceiling and watched as shadows occasionally danced along it from nurses walking through the hallway. He hadn't felt like taking the ferry home to his trailer that night, and to be honest, he hadn't planned on needing to. He expected that he'd just spend the night at Meredith's. He had even packed a change of clothes so he'd be ready for work the following day. But all of those plans shattered for reasons he couldn't begin to explain. He felt numb, and he began to wonder if this was how Meredith had felt when she had given up in the water. The cold dark water that he had pulled her from and that made it impossible for him to be near ferryboats the same way he had when he first came to Seattle.
Dammit... Why can't I make this work? he thought silently as he slowly covered his face with both hands and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. He was certain that his eyes would be bloodshot from the night without sleep, but he wasn't sure he even cared. He wasn't looking to impress anyone anyway. And with his spiky black hair going in all directions and a day's worth of stubble plastered on his face, he was certain he wouldn't. With a final groan to indicate that insomnia had conquered his evening, Derek found the momentum to sit up and reach for his duffel bag. It was nearly 6am, and he figured he might as well check in on his patients and start his day. He checked his Sidekick one last time for messages. Nothing. He sighed wearily and tossed the device back onto the couch. He hadn't expected anything, but a small part of him hoped there would be a text message at the very least. Maybe she'll call later today and apologize for yesterday in her own fumbly, rambly way…The corner of his mouth turned upward in a small but fleeting smirk as he imagined her trying to apologize, but as reality returned he knew that it was unlikely. If he had learned one thing from Meredith, it was that she was pretty damn stubborn when it came to expressing feelings one way or another, and god knows he had tried to break through to her. All he could do now was try to focus on work, and that meant getting dressed.
Ordinarily Derek didn't mind being at the hospital so early in the morning. The building had a quiet to it as it was slowly penetrated by doctors, nurses, staff, and patients all arriving throughout the morning. He even considered himself a morning person. But today felt different to him. The sounds of people walking by irritated him, and he knew that he would need an extra strong coffee to get him through the morning hours or else he was certain to take out his frustrations on some unsuspecting nurse or patient. He coursed through the corridor and headed toward the hospital bridge so he could make his way down to the lobby coffee cart. His body was on automatic pilot now, and as he turned the corner to approach the bridge, he almost didn't notice the obstacle standing in the middle.
Meredith.
Her image took his breath away and stopped him immediately. Even though he suspected she had received about as much sleep as he had, she still looked stunning in her pale blue scrubs. Her hair was swept back in a ponytail that looked especially golden as the orange sunrise streaming through the window reflected off her head. She was leaning toward the railing, facing the sun, and even from a distance he could tell she was deep in thought.
I need to go to her, he thought. I need her. He had no idea what he would say or whether she would even talk to him, but he knew he needed to at least try. He slowly but casually walked across the bridge to stand next to her, careful not to interrupt her thoughts too much as he assumed a similar position to her right, leaning up against the rail with both hands placed firmly on it, as if he needed it to help keep himself standing.
"Hi," she whispered without even looking at him.
"Hi," he muttered back. He could already tell that this was going to be awkward. He had no idea what to say to her at this moment, and he sensed that she felt the same way. After a silence that lasted far too long to be comfortable, he finally continued. "How is Cristina holding up?"
Meredith looked down at the floor below and shrugged. "Fine, I guess. She's sad and angry and not really talking yet."
"I know the feeling," Derek reacted without even considering the full implication of his response.
Meredith inhaled deeply and bit her lower lip. He could tell that she was trying to hold back tears as her body slumped a little. He immediately felt guilty for the comment as he could tell it had hurt her deeply, like a sharp dagger piercing her as she realized his comment was more of a reflection of his feelings about them, not Cristina.
She shifted her weight from her right to her left, leaning a little further away from him, and cleared her throat. "The new interns start today," she declared calmly.
"Yeah?" he replied nervously, a bit surprised by the change in topic.
"Yeah. Which means, I'm now considered a second year…a resident…and I need…I need to decide on my specialization." She nervously resumed gnawing on her lower lip with such determination he was sure she would be bleeding soon.
"Do you know what you want to do?" he asked cautiously. He had always assumed that she would be a neurosurgeon. She showed tremendous interest and talent in the area, and he was certain that it was genuine—not just an attempt to humor him.
"I thought I wanted to be a neurosurgeon," she confirmed, "but now I'm not so sure."
His heart began to beat more rapidly as an elixir of adrenaline and rage cycled through his veins. He felt his body flush with heat as he stared at her. How dare she do this, first deserting him and then abandoning the career path that fit her so perfectly. He wanted to grab her and shake her and convince her that she was fucking up everything, but all he could manage was an audibly exasperated sigh. His fight was gone. He couldn't keep doing this.
"What do you mean now you're not so sure?" he asked through slightly clenched teeth.
"I just…I don't know if it's a good idea…if it's right…for me…for…us," she stammered, her voice deflating to a whisper as she uttered that last syllable…us... "I mean, I know that if I specialize in neurosurgery, we'd have to work together…a lot…and I don't know if that would be good right now…not…now."
"Meredith…"
"I just think we need to try to avoid situations that will make this…" Her voice trailed off. Worse? More painful? More miserable? She wasn't sure where she was going with the sentence, but she felt like she had needed to keep talking so he wouldn't have to. Still, the more she said, the less reliable her voice was becoming. She looked over at him, her eyes pleading with him not to make her continue, but as she saw the darkness of his expression, she knew this was going much worse than she had rehearsed mentally in the car ride over. His eyes were a deep and stormy blue that matched his scrubs, and she could tell with the wounded intensity of his look that he was taking this very badly.
Just put him out of his misery, Mere, you can do this…
She cleared her throat again and forced herself to straighten up and face him. "We just need to avoid situations that will make this harder for us. I think it's best that we keep our distance for a while."
His heart clenched in his chest as she confirmed his suspicions. She was breaking up with him. "So, yesterday, at the church, you weren't just talking about the wedding. You were talking about us." He felt nauseous as his stomach tightened. His legs began to wobble a little, and he gripped the railing even tighter, making his knuckles turn a pasty white. His whole body felt like it was shutting down from mental and physical exhaustion.
Meredith slumped a little again and looked back down at the floor. She didn't want to do this, and she had known it would be difficult, but this is what she had to do. She needed to end this before it went any further. She didn't want to damage him anymore.
"I'm sorry, Derek. You know I don't want to hurt you…"
"Then don't," he interrupted angrily.
"But this is…this is for the best. We'll only hurt each other more if we keep on pretending…"
Something deep within Derek snapped, and the dam that was holding back his fury could no longer stem the flow. "Pretending? Is that what you've been doing? Because yesterday, when I said that you are the love of my life, I wasn't pretending!" His voice was loud now, and the two were drawing raised eyebrows and stares from people crossing the bridge or standing in the lobby down below. The gossip mongers would have plenty to talk about today. First Burke and Yang, now Shepherd and Grey.
"Derek, I'm sorry…" Meredith choked on her own sobs and quickly turned away from him breaking into a sprint to get away.
"Meredith!" he called desperately, knowing that it wouldn't do anything to stop her from running away from him. "Meredith, please!" But she continued running and he watched her small frame dart out of sight.
He lifted his hands to his face again and leaned against the railing, hoping the metal and glass structure would support the weight he was too drained to support himself.
I need to get out of here. I can't be here now, Derek thought. I'll cancel my surgeries. I'll say I'm sick. I'll go home. And it wouldn't be a total lie. Derek did feel sick – sick that the only doctor he was interested in seeing wouldn't be making house calls anymore.
He mustered up the energy to turn back towards his office so he could leave a message with his secretary, gather his things, and leave Seattle Grace. He was in no condition to be a doctor today.