A/N: This is the first fic I've posted here. If you haven't seen episode 4.04, this will contain spoilers for you. After Derek's little speech, I felt like Meredith deserved her turn to lay everything on the table, too--and she had spent the whole day trying to get better at yelling. It would be a shame if she didn't put all that practice to use. And poor Derek is getting a hard time over the not-knowing what he'd do thing, which was, granted, a pretty stupid thing to say, but I don't think he meant it as a threat. So...this is just a little one-shot immediately after 4.04. It turned out a little fluffier than I meant for it to, but...I tried to make it somewhat balanced. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Oh, and title comes from "Trying", by Lifehouse.

As she drove off the ferry, Meredith still wasn't sure she knew what she was doing. This was probably a little crazy. The clock-radio, emitting an eerie green glow from its display, read 10:37. She'd gotten off work a half-hour before, two hours after him. Two hours since she'd heard what she could only describe as his ultimatum. Two hours that she'd been unable to focus on anything but his words, and her own response to them. Rationally, she knew this could wait until morning. The Bainbridge ferry took a half-hour each way, and that wasn't even factoring in the drive to his land and the trailer. The trailer she could only assume he was staying in tonight, since he'd made it clear he wouldn't be waiting when she got home. Realistically, this could wait until morning, but Meredith had had two hours to pull herself together, and she wasn't sleeping until she said her mind.

She'd felt more like herself lately, more like the confident, bossy Meredith she'd been at the start of her internship—the passionate force of nature, as her mother would say. Before Addison, before her mother's condition had worsened, before Finn and her bout of appendicitis, before her mother's lucid day and the deep damage her caustic words had left on Meredith's psyche. Before the ferry crash and the drowning and the dying and the dead mommy, before thinking that her father might actually be coming back, before losing a fake mommy and a father, too, and then losing her faith in her and Derek. Before the intern year from hell had beaten her down and broken her spirit, Meredith had held it all together pretty well, but when the flood gates opened, there had been no stopping the waves of self-doubt and loathing from swallowing her whole. Derek had saved her from drowning once, and since she'd come back from Hawaii with Cristina, he'd been her life raft. Not her savior—she was capable of swimming on her own—but something to hold on, some little piece of familiarity and deep down, though she was reluctant to admit it, a hope.

It wasn't just sex. She knew it wasn't. She wanted it to be, or thought she did. Right now, it was all she could handle. She wasn't ready to let go of him—their "break-up" in the on-call room had proven that—but she couldn't do the relationship thing. He was trying to pull her in before she'd gotten a good hold on the rope—it had been too much, but she knew if she let go completely, she'd be lost. So, she was content, for now, to bob along, holding onto the life preserver until she was strong enough to let him draw her back. Sex kept them connected, but he wasn't demanding more—not too much, anyway, and bit by bit, she was feeling more secure, more confident that he would hold her up and not drop her back under.

This morning—it seemed like years ago now—but just this morning he'd wanted to take her away for the weekend. Forty-eight hours with Derek. Just Derek, and her. It was a couple-y thing. He made it sound like it was about sex, but she knew it wasn't. Derek was good. Really good. But even he couldn't last forty-eight hours. It wouldn't—couldn't—be only about sex, and even she couldn't delude herself to think it would be. It was forty-eight hours of togetherness, of meals and sharing beds and all the other things Meredith adamantly insisted they were not about, but she'd agreed anyway. Because forty-eight hours of Derek, even if they weren't all about sex, was an offer she couldn't refuse. So she'd talked to Alex and gotten him to cover her shift, and she'd caught herself grinning at the butterflies in her stomach all day.

And then it all came crashing down. He was there, and said things. He said things that…she'd suspected, but never heard from him. Things about forever. And he was right—she'd wanted to run. Because he'd promised her, just four days ago, that he'd slow down, but then again, she'd promised him that he could tell her anything, and she wouldn't break that promise to him. She was trying. She wasn't ready, he knew it, but she could be ready, maybe. One day. And she offered him that. But what if? That if stood between them—if he found someone else, someone who was ready, someone who could be whole and bright and shiny and everything that dark, twisty Meredith wasn't? What then? He didn't know.

The lights were on in the trailer when she pulled up next to his car. He wouldn't be asleep yet. He'd be in bed, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants, because the trailer was notoriously cold at night and he'd only sleep naked with her next to him for warmth, and probably reading whatever novel he'd picked up most recently, because he tried to avoid bringing medical journals and work home with him. His hair would still be just a little damp near the roots from the shower he would have taken when he got home, and an empty mug of decaf would be on the counter. He might not have heard her car pull up, if he had music on, and he wouldn't see her approach through the windows, but she knew he heard when she rapped on the metal door.

Her stomach lurched as his footsteps grew louder, and she bit her bottom lip out of habit. She inhaled sharply as he opened the door and stared back at her with wide-eyed surprise.

"Hey," she breathed. "Can I come in?"

He stepped aside and freed the doorway. "Of course. Is everything okay?"

"No," she said flatly. He quirked an eyebrow in reply, but she pressed forward before he could speak. "No, everything is not okay. We need to talk."

"Meredith—"

"Shut up," she interrupted. "You say Meredith and I yell. That's the way this works. It's my turn now, and I've been practicing my yelling all day and figuring out what to say to you for hours, and trying to convince myself that it was worth driving out here to say it to you, so shut up and let me talk."

He pressed his lips together and blinked in disbelief, but the creases around his eyes betrayed a hint of amusement. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall as she took a deep breath.

"You said things to me tonight. You said…really, really big things, Derek. And you're right, I fought every single instinct I had to turn and run, but what matters is that I didn't run. I said you could tell me anything, and you did, and even though what you said terrified me, I didn't run. That's a step, Derek. It's a baby step, I know, but it's a step. I didn't run from you, and Derek, seriously? Marriage and kids and forever—that's scary. I don't do families. You know that. You know what those things mean to me, and you want that from me…with me…and I don't know if I can give you those things. You want a lot, and I'm not ready. And you said you were okay with that; you said you would wait for me. You said you'd wait until I was ready.

"I can be ready, Derek. I can do this. I can't do it overnight, and it's going to take time. There's a lot to get past. I was screwed up long before you met me, and you made a lot of things better, but you also did your own share of messing me up. You've left me more than once. You've walked away more than once. I'm a girl with abandonment issues, and trust issues, and communication issues, and I told you I needed you to stay. You promised me you would, but you haven't always. You're not innocent in this, Derek. There are pieces that you broke, and now I have to fix them before I'm ready for all these perfect things that you want. I can do it. But I can't change myself for you, Derek. I can work on my daddy issues and the mommy issues, and the abandonment issues. I can work on trusting you again. I can do all that, but it has to be for me. If I only do it to please you and keep you, then all I'm doing is repeating the mistakes Cristina made with Burke. She didn't change for herself; she changed for him, and it didn't work. I don't want you to leave me at the altar, Derek. I don't want us to wake up one day and realize that we're miserable because I gave you what you wanted but never made myself happy for me."

The lines on Derek's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Meredith, I—"

"I'm not through!" she shook her head. ""Do you know what I did today, Derek? I spent the entire day being yelled at by Mark Sloane because I didn't double-check a chart and an intern made a mistake that cost the hospital a few hundred thousand dollars. If I'd done the charts myself, it wouldn't have happened, but I had an intern, and I'm supposed to teach the interns even though that's not supposed to be my responsibility for three more years, so I let the intern do the charts. But you know what the real kicker is, Derek? It wasn't my intern—it was Alex's intern that I'd taken on for the day. Do you know why I had Alex's intern? Because that was the deal I made with him so he'd cover my shift this weekend so I could go away with you. I wanted to go away with you, Derek—you invited me, and we both know that it wouldn't have just been about sex, so me agreeing to go? That's a step, Derek. I know you want more than I can give you right now, but you asked for this and I gave it to you, but now—what, you take the offer back? When I push myself and give you what you want, and I'm actually excited about it, it's still not enough?"

"You're not ready," Derek started. "You're not ready, I was asking for too much too soon—"

"But I would have given it to you, Derek!" Meredith cried. "It would have been a step for us—for me! I get that you're ready to settle down, Derek. You wanted the family and the house and kids with Addison, and you didn't get it. But you know what? I was ready. Before Addison, before everything else, you were it for me, and I wanted all of that with you. But you told me to take it all on faith, and I trusted you, and your wife showed up, and you walked away, and that pretty much killed my faith in us. It killed my faith in me, and I'm trying to get that back. Damn it, do you think Iwant to be like this, Derek? Do you think I like being dark and twisty Meredith, who's so freaking screwed up that she doesn't know how to be happy and let someone love her? I don't, Derek. I want to be better. I want to be happy again, and feel like I did before this entire past year happened to me, and I want to believe that we can be together and work."

She paused and bit down on her quivering lip. A single tear slid down her cheek, and she flinched as Derek reached out and brushed it away. When she found her voice again, she'd lost the fire and could only manage a soft pleading tone.

"I want to be ready, Derek, and I can't…I won't make you wait forever. I just need to know that when I am ready…that you'll still be there. That you'll be ready, too. You told me before the wedding that you could never leave me, and tonight you said that things could stay the same, that you'd wait until I was ready. But then you said you don't know what you'd do if someone else came along who was ready for what you need. I need you to know, Derek. You either love me, or you don't. You want me, or you don't. You're willing to wait for me, for as long as it takes, or you're not. I'm going to put myself back together no matter what, but if there's a chance that it could be too late for you, I need to know that. I need to know if you'll still be here when I'm ready. So what happens if you meet someone else, Derek? What do you want? The life with the picket fences and kids, or me?"

He let out a raspy breath, somewhere between an anguished groan and a frustrated sigh. "Everything I told you tonight about what I want for us is true," he replied. "I want to marry you. I want kids with you. I want to get rid of this tin box I'm living in and build a house for you—to get you out of the house you have so many bad memories in and give you a home for good ones. I want forever with you, Meredith. I want both."

"But you don't know what you'd do if I wasn't ready and you met someone else," she said.

He buried his face in his hands for a long moment, shaking his head before wearily running his fingers back through his hair and letting his arms fall to his side. He looked up to meet her gaze, his eyes a stormy blue maelstrom of emotion and desperation. "I'm an ass, Meredith. I know I am. When I said that earlier, I—I've had all these things I've wanted to say to you, and when you gave me the opportunity—I didn't say things the way I meant to. There's no one else, Mere. I don't want there to be anyone else. I want you. Only you.

"I didn't mean it to sound like an ultimatum, like I'm giving you a time limit to change before I'm done with you, or a threat. I'm not looking for anyone else, and I want to wait for you. I will wait for you, and I will wait as long as I can. But what scares me is that…I wasn't looking for anyone when you came into my life and turned it upside down. I don't think anyone can be what you are to me, but that uncertainty…it scares me, Meredith. I don't know what could happen, but I know that what I want to happen is you healing and getting to a place where we can be together, and I can marry you, and have kids with you, and grow old with you, and everything else I told you tonight."

"You are an ass," Meredith agreed.

"And you're right," Derek continued. "I'm partly to blame for what's happened to us. I haven't always been there when you needed me, and sometimes I've pushed too hard when you needed space. I've left you, I've hurt you, and I'm sorry."

Meredith stared down at the floor, watching the toe of her shoe scuff along the floor. Her fingers toyed with the band of her watch unconsciously and she didn't realize how hard she was biting her lip until she recognized the coppery taste of blood. "So what now?"

Derek stepped forward and slipped his hands around her waist, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "Now…now you work on healing, and when you're ready to be with me, I'll be here waiting. And things can stay the way they are if you want them to. We can still have our on-call room dates, and I'll do anything you want to help you heal. I'm waiting for you, and you're working on it. Knowing that you want this too—it's enough, Mere. I just…I needed to know that this is what you want, eventually."

She smiled softly. "I'm not ready to give you up, Derek. Even if you are an ass with horrible timing and bad word choice."

He smirked and raised one hand to her face, resting his palm on her cheek as his thumb traced her cheekbones. "I'll work on that, too. I have things I need to get over, and things I did to you that need to be made right. We can do this, Mere. We'll just…take it as slow as we need to, and ultimately we'll find our way back."

"I hope so. And…you know, if you change your mind about taking me away for the weekend, I do have the time off," she added hopefully.

He frowned and slid his fingers back into her hair. "I still think this weekend isn't going to work out," he confessed. "I'm sorry that you went through so much to get your shift covered and I canceled on you. But if that's a step you're ready to take, I still want to take you. I have some time off next month. I'll talk to Richard and make sure you have the same weekend off, so you won't have to hang out with the world's old intern anymore or have Mark yell at you."

She laughed a little at that. "I want to. You promised me wine country and forty-eight uninterrupted hours together, so you owe me. I'd hate to have to add unfulfilled promises of vacations to the list of things you've done to hurt me that I have to get over."

"Hmm, now you're mocking your own emotional handicaps?" Derek teased.

"Sex and mockery," Meredith shrugged. "We're good at the mocking."

"We're good at the sex, too," Derek reminded her with a well-placed kiss. "Are you staying for a while?"

Meredith shook her head and pressed one palm against his chest. "I can't," she said reluctantly. "I don't think we should, not tonight. Not after everything that's happened today and the fighting and yelling. And I should go—the ferry and—"

Derek silenced her with another kiss. "You're right. I understand. Come on, I'll walk you out to your car."

He held open the door for her and she didn't pull away when he laced his fingers through hers. As they crossed the lawn to her Jeep, Meredith remembered the first time he'd brought her here. That had been the night of his infamous request that she take him on faith. She had, then. She'd embraced him and his trailer and his big family and coffee ice cream and motorcycle scars, and she hadn't asked questions or even hesitated, just held out her hand and let him take her inside. Somewhere, that blind trust that she'd had for him then still existed. As many times as she'd been burned, she was either stupid, masochistic, or ridiculously in love with him to still believe that they had anything resembling a chance at making it.

They arrived at her car and Derek stopped her before she could climb in, holding her around her waist in one hand and combing a few stray tendrils of her hair with the other. "Mere…" he murmured her name and hesitated, studying her face thoughtfully. "You didn't run tonight. I threw the rest of our lives at you, and you were terrified, but you didn't run. I ran. I ran from you, but you followed me here. That's…that's a step for us. For you."

He tilted his head slightly and she heard the soft, thoughtful hum that she thought of as uniquely Derek's. Hmm. Nothing more, but that one purring syllable carried more meaning than a dozen words. He understood. He still got her. He did.

"Yeah," Meredith agreed with a wry smile. "I'm trying."

"You're trying," he nodded. After a few moments of silence, he stroked her cheek once more and sighed. "I should let you go."

"You should," she repeated. She turned and tugged open the car door, and accepted his hand as a boost inside. He stood with one hand on the door, ready to close it as soon as she cranked the ignition. "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, well, if you page me, or Callie puts me on your service, or I guess just…around…so…uh…"

He smirked at her awkward babbling. "Good night, Meredith," he laughed. "Thank you for driving out here tonight. I'm glad you did."

"Me, too," she admitted. "Good night." She reached out to pull the door shut, but not before she left a light kiss on Derek's lips. Soft, quick. Like a well-formed and deeply ingrained habit. Like she'd do it again every day for the rest of their lives.