Disclaimer- I don't own Grey's Anatomy
Summary- Derek and Meredith realize just how far they're willing to go for each other. Post 5.08, These Ties That Bind
A/N- Just a one-shot that wouldn't leave my head after 5.08, which was absolutely wonderful by the way. The MerDer stuff, I mean. I love Denny to death, seriously, but let's just keep him dead, shall we? I hope you enjoy, this has been a joy to write!
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She's snoring again as you bury your face into her hair and breathe in its floral scent. It's comforting, after a long day of ammonium cleaned hallways and sterile instruments. It's your breath of fresh air.
You smile as you remember the stories she's told you about Death and Die. For what seems like the first time in a while, Meredith has told you a little bit about her past, about who she was before she was Mer to you.
You run your fingers over her cheeks, which were bright red with embarrassment and laughter hours before when she told you about when she and Sadie had too much to drink and ended up swimming in the Trevi fountain in Rome in the dead of night. Or the time when they made friendly with a French man in Paris and stole his Vespa for the day. They returned it, of course, she assured you, but you hadn't appreciated that story as much as the pictures she had shown you of them at the wax museum in London. They were tamer, and you don't like having mental images of your Meredith and some French Fabio getting frisky.
You want to laugh at the image Meredith has created for herself in your head. She told you that she didn't want to tell you about Death and Die because she didn't want you to know about what she did. But you know that she's not Death anymore, she's Mer. Meredith, an extraordinary surgeon and friend. Meredith, the love of your life. You know that Death isn't who she is anymore, just like you're not the person you once were with Mark back in Bowdoin.
You promise yourself that you'll tell Meredith about your wilder days in college because she has so vividly told you about hers. But you find it only makes her more interesting, more complex. It explains why she is who she is, and you love that.
She moves, very slightly and her hand curls around your arm that's wrapped around her waist. It makes you feel a strange euphoria that now, even in her sleep, she knows you're there. She's reaching out to you, holding you, just like you're holding her.
You frown when you realize how cold her fingers are, and you pull her closer to shield her from the chill the Seattle rain is causing. You see the knife edge of her smile and you know that she understands what you're trying to do. It's a comforting feeling to know that you can be here to protect her, whether from the cold or French Fabios.
As you replay the day over in your head, because you simply can't sleep with the amount of coffee you had today, you realize how angry you had been when you assumed Mark had hit on Meredith. Again.
At that moment, you had seen red. Literally. As in Mark's blood. And you're scared that you're willing to go that far for her, to draw your best friend's blood again. But as you work through it, you realize you'd be willing do to almost anything for her. Stand in front of a bus, give an organ, give your life.
That thought scares you, a lot. But it only makes this, what you have, more worth it.
On instinct, you pull her closer to you, so that there's barely any space between your bodies.
"What's wrong?" Meredith murmurs and turns in your locked grasp.
"Nothing," you reply immediately. It's a fixed response to the question, like its been programmed into you.
She frowns, and you can see it because of the bolt of purple lightening that decides to strike at the very prime moment. "Then why are you holding me so tightly?" Meredith asks.
You immediately loosen your grip on her, but you still let your arm drape over her waist. "Sorry," you say.
She shrugs. "I don't mind," she admits.
You smile at her and another bolt of lightening flashes, followed by a clap of thunder. Meredith flinches slightly and you see this as a moment to mock her. "What, Death? Scared of thunder?" you ask.
She shoves your shoulder, but you're both smiling. "Shut up," she says and you laugh. "It's not who I am anymore."
You lace your fingers with hers and hold her gaze for what feels like forever. "I know," you say eventually. You wonder when your banter became a serious conversation.
"Tell me about you and Mark," she says eventually and you smile because this is what you've been thinking about before she woke up.
You shake your head, and even though you will tell her anything she wants to know, you want to see if she'll keep asking you.
"Come on!" she says loudly, shoving your shoulder again. "I told you my embarrassing whatevers," Meredith says.
You rub your shoulder dramatically, even though those fists of hers couldn't cause you any pain. "Abusive," you say to her with a smile. She smirks back at you.
"We weren't that interesting," you say. "Definitely didn't have morbid nicknames like Death and Die."
She laughs and you realize you could probably listen to that sound forever. "You must have something," she insists, and because she asks you so nicely, you find yourself telling her all of you and Mark's college stories, including that time you, Mark and the fraternity went streaking across the green.
That was one you definitely hadn't meant to tell her. But when Meredith asks because she assumes you haven't, your face tells it all as you stutter through your lie. She catches you because she knows you that well and you break down and tell her the story.
She laughs and when she does, you smile because what you've told her managed to create that sound.
"Thank you," she says suddenly and squeezes your hand. You can tell she's tired. "For everything."
You frown, one of the times you don't understand what she's talking about. "I didn't do anything," you insist.
"For telling me. You know, streaking, abusing freshmen and pledges. And for talking to Mark today. That was unexpected and sweet, and you didn't have to do that."
She's rambling because she's slightly nervous and you love that about her. "I don't see how streaking is so much more interesting than jumping into Rome's sacred fountain in a bikini," you remark sarcastically. You both laugh and let the silence fill both your ears before you speak again. "You know I'd do anything for you, Mer," you say to her.
She leans in and kisses you, slowly and very softly. "I know," she whispers to you, and you're glad she does know.
"Why did you want me to talk to Lexie today?" she asks you suddenly.
You frown. "Because she's your family. You deserve to have a family, someone that you can take care of and who can take care of you. Someone who isn't Cristina or Sadie," you tell her, and you hope it makes sense to her.
She looks at you strangely for a moment and you wonder if she's going to kick you out of bed for bringing up her dependence of her best friends. "Derek," she says eventually. "You are my family."
She says it as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and you can't help but want to ask her to be your wife in that very moment but you refrain from doing so.
You settle for kissing her instead, slowly, so that you savor every moment of it. "You're my family, too," you whisper to her and you realize how true that statement really is. There might not be a ring on her finger or a piece of paper that states you and Meredith are bonded by the law, but she already is your family. More so than your mother, sisters and even Mark.
She sighs and closes her eyes and leans in close to you. "Thank you for being my family," she says and you understand that the words go deeper than just their literal meaning.
You know what her life has been like, thanks to the boxes you've unpacked and the endless supply of black diaries that keep appearing on her nightstand. You've admitted to her that you've snuck a peek at a couple of pages when she was in the shower or getting coffee and you were shocked at her childhood, much worse than she let on.
No one, besides Meredith's friends has ever stuck around long enough define the meaning of family and you are glad that she has chosen you to be the one to stick around.
You pull her close, burying your face in her hair again. "You're welcome," you say to her simply as her eyes flutter close from exhaustion. Your hands connect together on her stomach and she molds right against you perfectly, like jigsaw pieces.
Throughout the night, all you can think about are those words she said to you. You hope that one day, you'll be able to restore all her faith and trust in you. You hope that she will come to you again and again and ask you to do something for her, because you will. You hope that she understands that you would be willing to do everything for her, to go so, so far for her. Because she is your family and you love her more than she could ever know.
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A/N- So that was my little post-good-episode one shot! I hope you liked it! I realize that jumping into the Trevi fountain and streaking might be rare (streaking maybe not, but I'm not in college yet) but I guess it could happen. I hope that wasn't too out there.
Thanks so much for reading and please leave a review if you have anything to say! I really appreciate them. Thanks again!