The echoing slap-slap of Meredith's footsteps was all that kept her company as she headed down the empty hallway towards the cafeteria. Her stomach growled rudely yet again, reminding her she hadn't fed it since that morning when she'd taken a few bites of cold spaghetti before hearing Carolyn's voice on her answering machine. After that, she hadn't felt up for eating. Derek was still restricted to a liquid diet, but her growling stomach had eventually grown so loud that he'd sent her down to the cafeteria despite her protests.

It was well past the dinner rush, and a lone cafeteria worker kept watch over old slices of pizza shoved beneath a row of heating lamps. The sight of them turned her stomach and she was usually one who made a beeline straight for junk food, but under that light, the cheese looked like rubber. She decided on another cup of coffee and just as she was about to go pay, she snatched up a ham and cheese sandwich wrapped in cellophane. It appealed to her only slightly more than the pizza had, but Derek wanted her to eat, and she would do anything he asked right now. Anything except tell him about the thing, she remembered dully as she paid for her sandwich and coffee.

She tried to ward off the pang of guilt that brought, but it came and she winced inwardly, struggling to smile at the graying woman working the register. The woman wished her a good evening and Meredith nodded. She was exhausted. Her muscles ached all over from the sleepless night in the chair by Derek's bed and the stress of the day before. The cuts and scratches she had gotten in the earthquake had started stinging again when she took her shower and hadn't stopped yet. The only good thing she could think of was that she had the next five days off. Bailey had found her in the hallway earlier that day and told her as much. She had a sinking suspicion it was because she'd come across as a total basket case that morning. Or maybe she really did look as tired as she felt and she was beginning to feel like the walking dead. Either way, it didn't really matter. It was time off to be with Derek. The whole hospital could call her a zombie basket case and she wouldn't care.

Meredith was walking in a dull fog across the cafeteria when she stopped short. Alone at a far table by the window sat Cristina hunched over a pile of charts, her curly black hair pulled up in a messy bun and held in place by one very well chewed pencil. She stared at her best friend, feeling as if she was made entirely of shattered glass. Not quite sure of what she was doing, she shuffled across the cafeteria and plopped down in the empty chair beside Cristina.

"Hey," she said, more than a little shyly. Cristina looked up but said nothing. "I, about earlier, that was…" She hesitated and filled the silence with the crackling of cellophane as she unwrapped her sandwich. Cristina just kept on writing.

Meredith sighed and yanked on her hair. She felt utterly exhausted. Even stringing sentences together took a monumental effort at this point. 'Cristina, I'm trying to apologize here," she said, her voice rising and shaking unexpectedly. She hadn't sat down meaning to apologize. She hadn't sat down with any real plan at all. All she knew was that she felt like she was drowning again and the only thing she wanted was her best friend back.

When Cristina remained silent and stony-faced, she closed her eyes against the sudden sting of tears. The words came spilling out. "Derek asked me to marry him."

There was a long pause and then, "Congratulations," said Cristina flatly, still not looking up from her work. "Now was this before you screamed at me to get out of the room or after?"

Meredith shook her head, chewing on her lower lip. The tears in her eyes became harder to keep away. "He asked me yesterday," she whispered, staring out the window at the darkened sidewalk and the black, endless night. It seemed to be rushing towards her through the glass to swallow her whole. "Right before he collapsed," she continued, still staring straight ahead. "I said yes and now he…now he doesn't remember any of it."

"Oh." Cristina's voice was soft and surprised. Meredith watched raindrops run down the wide windowpane in front of her. They echoed in the tears on her cheeks. When she finally looked over, Cristina was studying her closely.

"And you're not going to tell him," she said. It wasn't a question.

Meredith shook her head. "I don't know," she said, a little louder than she'd meant to. "Besides, you think I'd be better off without him, and he doesn't even remember anyway, so whatever. Maybe it's just not the right time."

"Fine," said Cristina with an abrupt shrug.

"Fine? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's up to you."

"It's not just up to me! Derek could still remember. He could," she said emphatically. She wasn't quite sure who she was trying to convince.

"And if he doesn't? You'll just, what? Forget you got engaged?"

Meredith shrugged and picked at her sandwich. It was soggy and tasteless but she forced herself to take a few bites to keep from answering. Cristina just kept watching her, waiting for an answer. "I don't know," she mumbled at last, growing uncomfortable under her constant stare. "Maybe."

"Maybe," Cristina scoffed. "So you didn't really mean it then?"

"Mean what?"

"That he was going to be your husband one day."

"I meant it!" said Meredith indignantly. "I did. But I didn't know he was about to propose to me and then forget about it. I had no idea, Cristina. Why are you making this my fault?"

"Because it is your fault. You have everything you claim to want sitting right in front of you, and you're refusing to take it!"

"So now you want me to marry Derek? I thought you hated him."

Cristina stared at her for a long time and when she finally spoke, every trace of her usual sarcasm was gone. Her voice was quiet and even. "I watched you fall apart over him. You weren't okay. For a long time, Meredith. You really weren't okay."

It was what she'd said after the earthquake, only this time, the anger didn't come in response. Meredith stared down at her sandwich, squishing a thumbprint into it. "I know," she mumbled. "But that wasn't all him."

"He helped."

"He helped me get better too."

"I thought it was therapy that made you all shiny and new," said Cristina, the sarcasm back in full force.

"It helped, but Derek's helped too," muttered Meredith, still staring down at her squashed sandwich. "He's different now. We're both different. I told him some stuff about my mother and—" She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking of how he'd found her in the shower and somehow still loved her. "He's helped," she said again.

Cristina sighed. "Well what are you trying to get me to tell you?" she asked. "That I think you should go running into Derek's arms, tell him about the proposal and get married tomorrow?"

"I don't know," moaned Meredith, letting her head fall forward to rest in her hands. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to wake up and find this had all been a very bad dream. "I just don't know what to do."

She felt Cristina reach over and lay a hand lightly on her arm, fingers just barely touching her. "Look," she said flatly. "I want you to be happy. And I don't know if marrying Derek will make you happy, but I do know you won't be happy if you keep this huge secret from him for the rest of your life."

Meredith looked up. "The rest of my life?"

"Or whatever," amended Cristina.

"No, not whatever. The rest of my life. You said it. You believe it now, that Derek and I could be together the rest of our lives?"

Cristina narrowed her eyes. "Do you need me to?"

"Well, no… But it'd be nice to know you don't think it's a horrible idea."

"Fine. It's not the worst idea you've ever had," said Cristina with a small smile. There was genuine warmth in her eyes, and Meredith understood all that wasn't said. They would be okay. She hadn't lost her best friend.

"Thanks," she said, but then her smile faltered. She collapsed once more towards the remains of her sandwich. "Oh what am I going to do?" she moaned.

"Wait, you're seriously still considering keeping this a secret? After I went and said nice things about McDreamy?"

"Well how do you sit someone down and tell them they forgot proposing to you?" demanded Meredith. She picked up her coffee cup only to put it back down when it shook in her hand. "He's sick. He's recovering from major surgery. What if this is too much for him right now?"

Cristina snorted. "Oh you are so afraid."

"Am not," she said emphatically, snatching up a napkin. She twisted it around and around her fingers and then began ripping it to shreds. "I love Derek. Derek loves me. We're very happy people here, okay? What could there possibly be for me to be afraid of. That's ridiculous!"

Cristina just leveled a look at her. "Did you say yes because you thought he was dying or did you say yes because you're really ready to be his wife?"

"I…" Meredith's mouth gaped open. "I, um…I said yes because—" She shook her head. There was whirring white noise inside her mind where the answer was supposed to be. "I don't know," she said quietly, staring down at the tabletop. "It's irrelevant."

"It's not irrelevant," began Cristina, but Meredith cut her off.

"It is. He asked. I said yes. End of story." She stood up abruptly, the chair screeching against the tile floor as it skidded back from the table. Her hands shook as she gathered up her sandwich and coffee cup. "It's so irrelevant that I'm going to tell him right now. I'm just going to tell him and it's gonna be fine."

She left with little more than a determined smile and marched herself back to the ICU only to end up sitting alone on the floor outside Derek's room, her courage dying an abrupt death. The tile was very cold and she stared at her knees. She could do this. She could tell him the thing. Because she was absolutely, completely ready to be a wife-type person and Derek wanted to marry her even though he'd gone and forgot they were engaged.

Except she couldn't so much as touch the stupid doorknob.

Meredith leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She could do this. She could. She could. Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away. This wasn't supposed to be so hard.

She stared at her knees and tried to blame it all on the earthquake. If it hadn't happened, Derek would be fine. There would be no forgotten proposal. He'd ask her to marry him two or six or eight months from now, and he'd probably do something sweet and cheesy because he was Derek and he liked that kind of stuff. And he wouldn't almost die right after it. But it was no use because she could already hear his voice inside her head, saying those words. The words.

Marry me, Mer.

There was no forgetting them.

She chewed on her lip and sat there feeling sick for the longest time. Nurses and orderlies gave her strange looks when they went by, but no one said anything. She was Meredith Grey after all. People seemed to expect her to be a bit of a mess.

She held her left hand out in front of her and stared at her naked ring finger. All she needed was a sign. Maybe a ring could fall from a crack in the ceiling and land right on her fourth finger. Or a spare fairy godmother could wander through the doors of Seattle Grace and tell her what to do. Anything. She laughed miserably, her head falling forward to rest against her knees. She just needed some way to know she wasn't about to screw up everything she had with Derek by opening her mouth.

But the hospital was apparently all out of fairy godmothers and magically appearing rings because nothing freaking happened. There was no sign. She wasn't any closer to knowing what to do. Instead, she wrapped her arms tight around her knees and tried not to think at all.

Her legs had fallen asleep by the time her pager went off, buzzing insistently against her hipbone. She frowned as she turned to check it; she was supposed to be off work. She shouldn't have to hide the freaking pager just to get a day where she wasn't troubled by the hospital. But when she focused on the screen, she recognized the number as a 911 to the PICU, and that could only mean one thing. Sarah. She leapt up, wincing at the pins and needles in her feet as she shook the life back into them for a second or two before taking off at a run.

This could not be happening. It was the only thought in her head as she ran. Sarah couldn't die. She just couldn't die. Meredith ran faster, the air burning its way into her lungs. She dodged nurses and patients and doctors, only aware that she had to go faster still, faster and faster, that she had to be there in time. She thundered through the PICU and skidded to a stop in front of the room she'd visited the night before. The door stood open and Hess waited right outside.

"What is it?" she gasped, clutching at her side. "What's wrong? I came as fast as I could."

Hess just smiled and tilted his head towards the open door. "I didn't want you to miss this," he said, giving her a little push. "This is Dr. Grey," he added, raising his voice a bit to address the whole room. Meredith looked around, blinking as she took in the overwhelming contrast between all the machines needed in any ICU unit and the bright, exuberant wallpaper choices that belonged to the PICU. Two figures stood over the bed and they both turned towards her as Hess spoke. She recognized Olivia by her messy blonde hair. Tears were streaming down her face. Meredith took a deep breath. This was it. The moment they made her look at their dead daughter and see what she had done. Except, when she looked past Olivia to the bed in the center of the room, she saw a tiny girl, her head swathed in bandages, blinking at her with big, beautiful eyes.

The next moment, Olivia had flung herself into Meredith's arms and was clinging fiercely to her as she wept. "Thank you," she cried. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." She said it again and again, her voice cracking with joy, and Meredith hugged her back, too stunned to do anything else.

"Okay, Liv," said a man after a little while. His voice was gentle and it sounded like he smiled as he spoke. "Let the doctor breathe."

Olivia laughed self-consciously and pushed back a little, holding Meredith at arm's length as she gave her a watery smile. "I'm sorry, it's just you don't know how much you've done for us. You gave us back our baby. I can't even think right now I'm so happy! Meredith—" She hesitated a moment and raised a questioning eyebrow. "I can still call you Meredith?"

Meredith smiled back. "You can."

"Well, Meredith, I want you to meet my husband, Mike." She gestured towards the man that had interrupted the hug. Meredith found herself looking up at a brown-haired man with a friendly face. Tears glistened in his eyes as well.

He grasped her hand, almost swallowing it in his larger one, and squeezed it tightly. "It's an honor to meet you," he said. "Dr. Hess told us what happened during the surgery, and it takes an extraordinary person to do what you did. I'll be in your debt the rest of my life."

Meredith nodded, at a loss for words. She'd done it. Saved a life. She felt like she was standing in the middle of some perfect dream and even blinking might make it disappear. "Thank you," she managed at last and turned to stare at Sarah in disbelief. The child was alive. Awake and looking right back at her, a shy smile on her face. She held a bandaged teddy bear tucked into the crook of her arm. Meredith smiled back at her, feeling so happy she thought she might start crying.

"Could I," she began quietly. "Would it be alright if I said hello to her?"

"Of course," said Olivia as Mike chimed in with his agreement. She led the way towards Sarah's bed and Meredith followed a little behind her. "Sarah," said Olivia as she sat down on the edge of her daughter's bed. Sarah leaned towards her a little, her small hand latching onto her mother's arm. "I want you to meet someone very special. This is the doctor who did your surgery. Her name is Dr. Grey."

Meredith smiled at Sarah again, but this time the child didn't smile back. "Not Dr. Shepherd?" she asked in a little voice still hoarse from so long under intubation.

"No, ah…" Olivia smoothed a gentle hand over the bandage on her daughter's head and looked to Meredith, deferring the answer to her.

"He got hurt, Sarah, so he couldn't do your surgery," said Meredith.

"He has an owie too?"

"Yes," said Meredith. "But he's going to be okay."

Sarah just looked at her skeptically, pursing her lips together in a frown. "How do you know that?"

"Um, he's…well, he's someone important to me. Someone I love very much," she said softly.

Sarah frowned at her a moment longer but then nodded her head, apparently satisfied with the answer.

"How is he doing?" asked Olivia. "That must have been terrifying for you." Meredith pushed at her bangs. Terrifying didn't begin to do it justice. She stared down at her lap and struggled to keep away the horrible, queasy feeling that washed over her every time she thought about his collapse in the OR. He was okay now. He was absolutely fine.

She looked up and took a deep breath. "It was hard," she said and her voice cracked unexpectedly. Olivia reached over and laid a comforting hand on her arm. Meredith forced a smile back onto her face, still fighting against the image of Derek's body on the OR floor. She felt like she now lived perpetually on the verge of tears. "But it's over now," she said firmly. "He's doing much better. And I know he'd love to come visit you," she told Sarah.

"He could come to my room to play?" asked Sarah, smiling a dimpled smile.

"Sure," said Meredith with a glance at Mike and Olivia. "If that's okay with your mom and dad."

"That would be wonderful," said Olivia.

Mike nodded his head. "Absolutely."

But Sarah had gone back to studying Meredith, her eyes sharp and inquisitive and bright with questions. She leaned forward a little like a tiny detective. "You could get Dr. Shepherd to bring him to my room to play?" she asked slowly.

"Yes," said Meredith. She couldn't stop the smile that spilled across her face. Derek would be delighted.

"How?"

"Well…" She hesitated a moment, not quite sure of what the child was asking. "I'll bring him with me. I know he'd love to see you again. He's going to be so happy when I tell him that you're awake."

"Are you and Dr. Shepherd like how Mommy and Daddy are?" pressed Sarah, her small voice full of innocence and curiosity.

"Are we, umm," stammered Meredith. She could feel her cheeks flush and she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Kind of." At least, they could be.

She looked at Mike and Olivia seated on either side of their daughter's bed, holding onto her and each other. A tiny, perfect family. Their love for each other and their daughter was written plainly in their eyes, and it made her heart hurt in the very best of ways. It was suddenly so easy to see why Derek had gotten attached to Sarah. Why he had almost imagined her as their daughter. Because she felt it too. Wanted it too. All of it. The whole family, forever thing.

"Yes," she said and her voice came out stronger than she thought it could. "We're like how your Mommy and Daddy are."

She grinned at the three of them, her eyes filling with tears. She was certain she looked like an idiot, but it didn't matter anymore. There was nothing left to be afraid of.

"I'm sorry, I have to go do this thing," she said. "It's really important. But I'm, I'm so glad Sarah's okay." She kept grinning as she backed towards the door. Olivia just smiled warmly at her and Meredith thought not for the first time that the woman was almost painfully nice. "I'll come back and visit. Derek and I, we'll both come back. As soon as I do this thing."

And then she was gone out the door and running down the hall, her footsteps pounding in time with her heartbeats. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, panic wasn't rising swiftly inside her as she ran. Instead, she felt almost lighter than air and all she could think was that it felt so freaking good to have something to run to.

She came to a stop outside Derek's room and, still struggling to catch her breath, she pushed open the door. It wasn't so hard this time.

Derek sat upright in bed, flipping through the channels on the TV. He looked up at the sight of her, but his smile fell away immediately and he turned off the television.

"Meredith, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, laughing a little. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all."

"You're crying."

She raised her hands to her cheeks and felt the tears streaming down her face. She hadn't even noticed. "Oh. I'm okay. It's okay."

But he sat up a little straighter, his eyes dark with disbelief. "What is it? Where were you?"

"I was—" Meredith laughed again. The words waited on the tip of her tongue and it felt wonderful. "I was with Sarah. Derek, she's awake."

Tears filled his eyes to match hers and he smiled brighter than the sun in her eyes only she never wanted to look away. "Say that again."

She laughed and wiped at the tears on her face. "Sarah is awake."

That time he laughed with her and she swore it was the most beautiful sound in the whole freaking world. "You're incredible. You're absolutely incredible."

"I had help," she said softly.

Derek shook his head. "No. That was all you, Meredith. You did it. You saved her."

"Not without you. I never would've picked up the scalpel if I didn't know I had you behind me the whole time. We did it."

He hesitated a moment as if about to contradict her, but instead he relented and smiled at her again. "We make a good team."

"We do," said Meredith, her voice breaking. The tears started coming harder and her shoulders trembled, but she couldn't stop smiling.

He sat up straighter at that, leaning towards her. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," stammered Meredith. "I just, I have to say something, and I think it can still be okay. Because we got through an earthquake together. And a secret wife. And all the crap from my mother. And if we can get through all of that, we can get through anything, right?" Her voice was trembling, but she went on without giving him time to answer. "And because Sarah's with her parents and they're all smiling and they're happy. Derek, they're this family, and something about that makes me so—" She raised her hands in the air, shaking her head. "I wasn't sure, but now I know. I want that. I really freaking want that. And I think you do too. So I'm just going to be brave because if I don't do this now, I'll regret it forever. And I really think it could be a good thing. And if it's not, I think we'll get through it too. We have to, right? I mean—"

"Meredith," said Derek, interrupting her. "What are you talking about?"

She swallowed hard and held her breath and looked him straight in the eyes. "You asked me to marry you, Derek. That's the thing. That's what you forgot."

His jaw dropped open a little and he blinked at her. "I proposed?"

"Yes."

He hesitated a moment and then spoke. His voice was very quiet. "What did you say?"

"Yes."

He blinked up at her in wonder. "You said yes?"

Her smile brightened and grew a little bolder. "I did."

"So we're engaged?" he said slowly.

"Yes. If you want to be."

Derek just nodded and stared at his lap. His face grew troubled, his eyes very dark. The air felt electric against her skin. The happy rush of the moment before fell away and she learned then just how loud silence could be. It roared around her and she trembled on the inside. Her voice shook when she spoke. "Say something. Please."

"How could I forget that?" He raised his eyes to hers and they shone with a blue fire, hot with anger. "How could I do that to you?"

She shook her head. "It's okay. You were hurt."

"That doesn't matter," he hissed. "Meredith, I am so sorry."

Anger still lingered in the lines of his face and she scuffed the toe of her shoe against the floor. "That you asked me?"

"What?" said Derek. "No! I'm sorry I forgot. I'm sorry I put you through that on top of everything else." He shook his head ruefully and scowled at the intravenous line snaking into his arm. "I'm sorry I don't remember the one moment I should be able to remember for the rest of my life." Tears pooled in his eyes and streamed silently down his face. He left them there as if he didn't even notice.

She crossed to his bed in three steps, tugging him gently towards her. He sat on the edge of the mattress and she stood between his legs and wrapped her arms around him. His head fell forward, his forehead resting in the hollow between her breasts.

"I'll remember it then," whispered Meredith. "For the both of us." Her own words left her cold, and something deep inside her seemed to shiver. They touched too close to the thing she never let herself think about. The dark fear that was never acknowledged but always there like a shadow lurking underwater. She closed her eyes before she spoke, not quite believing that she was telling him this. "But you remember everything else. In case I forget."

Derek lifted his head and looked up at her. "What?"

"My mother. You really want a wife who might get Alzheimer's?"

"I want you forever," he said fiercely. "No matter what that means."

Her heart seemed to lift up in her chest and all she could think was how much she loved him. She laid a hand on his cheek and struggled to speak. "Then I'll remember this one, and you remember all the rest. Just in case."

He pulled her hand from his cheek and flipped it over, pressing his lips to her palm. "I promise."

She was silent for a long time, able to do little more than smile. But then she reached out to toy with the hair that curled over his ears and her voice grew nervous once more. "So you're really okay with this? Being engaged to me?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm the one who asked."

"But you don't remember. And maybe it was just the blood loss talking. And if it was, if you don't want to marry me, I'll understand," she stammered, speaking too quickly. It was a lie. She wasn't sure what she'd do if he wanted to take it back, but she was feeling pretty sure her heart might actually break in two.

"Meredith, I have always wanted to marry you. Always. I was just never brave enough to ask before, and I…" He hesitated a moment, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "I didn't think you were ready."

"I wasn't," she admitted.

He caught both her hands in his and held them firmly. "Are you sure you're ready now?" he asked. "I know it's hard to say no to the guy who might be dying, but I'm okay now, and if you're not ready for this yet, that's okay too. I'll still be here. We can do this later."

"No." She shook her head in amazement, holding tight to his hands. "I used to be scared, but…I'm not anymore. It's, well, it's what I was trying to say earlier. With Sarah and her parents. I had this feeling and I just know now. I want to be that with you!"

He raised an eyebrow, grinning a little. "Parents?"

"Well, yes," she said, surprising herself with how easy it was to admit. She sat down on the bed beside him. "I want to have kids with you. But I mean I want a life with you. All of it. I want to be your wife."

He ran his hands up her arms and over her shoulders until he was cupping her face in his palms. "So we're getting married?" he asked, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

"We are."

She leaned towards him, pressing a cautious hand against his chest as she kissed him. His lips were soft and familiar and perfect against hers, and she was pretty sure that the giddy feeling in her chest was because she was holding the entire freaking world in the palm of her hand. It was her oyster or whatever. She kissed him again and again and again, moaning into his mouth before pulling back abruptly.

"Crap. No more of that," she panted.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "No more kissing your fiancé? Your poor, injured fiancé, I might add." His mouth curved into a delicious teasing grin and all she wanted was to suck on his lower lip. He had the world's most perfect lower lip. But instead she shook her head and scooted back a little, trying to get the needy, whiny part of her brain to shut up and stop demanding sex already.

He leaned in and trailed a line of kisses along her neck. All the heat rushed back and she whimpered, pressing a hand against his chest to push him away. "Not if you keep kissing me like that!" she gasped. "Because then I'm going to want what comes after the kissing. And I know we can't do that yet."

"Sorry," muttered Derek, and she thought she detected an undercurrent of frustration running through his voice. "I'll make it up to you. I promise. I'll make up for all of it."

Meredith sighed and flopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "You don't have to make anything up to me," she said gently as he lay down beside her. "Except for the sex. That you can make up. Multiple times." She grinned wickedly at him, but he returned it with a wan smile.

"Derek," she sighed when he remained silent. "This telling each other thing goes both ways, you know. Especially since we're getting married. I'm pretty sure married people tell each other things all the time."

Derek heaved a sigh and ran his hands over his face. "I used to think about it," he said quietly, his voice muffled by his hands. "How I'd propose to you. I wanted you to have a perfect proposal. Not what I put you through."

"Stop it," said Meredith. "I don't need perfect. I wouldn't know what to do if you got down on one knee and gave me roses. I'm happy. The only thing wrong is…" She trailed off and stared at him, tracing the lines of his face with a fingertip. He had no memory of it. He didn't know what her voice sounded like when she said yes. "Ask me again," she whispered.

"What?"

"The only thing that's wrong is that you don't remember."

His face crumpled. "I'm sorry. I want to—"

"Shhh…" She moved her finger down to press against his lips. Their bodies were close together, their sides touching, their feet tangled together. She could feel his breath warm against her skin. "Ask me again," she said, her voice low and earnest. "Right now."

The worry left his face and was replaced by a look of wonder. Softly, he touched her hair. His eyes were close and blue and all around her; she felt she could drown herself in them. His lips parted and she waited desperately for his voice, her heart racing in her chest. He smiled at her.

"Meredith Grey, will you marry me?"

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly as tears pooled in her eyes. "Yes, yes, yes." She whispered the word again and again, kissing him as she spoke. Her hair fell over them like a curtain, and time seemed suddenly meaningless. There was nothing beyond this moment and she had never felt more alive. The word seemed to echo in her heartbeats and race through her bloodstream.

"Yes," she said a final time as she pulled away to lie beside him on the pillow. She knew his smile matched her own. He took her hand, weaving their fingers together, and they lay in silence, simply staring at each other for a long time.

"Thank you for telling me," he murmured. "I know you were afraid."

"I thought…" She closed her eyes. "God, it's horrible what I thought."

He only pulled her closer, his voice soft against her skin. "You thought maybe I wasn't remembering because I hadn't really meant it."

She shrugged and squirmed a little in his arms. It was almost unnerving how well he'd learned to read her. "I'm not exactly the type of woman guys line up to marry."

"You're the only woman I want to marry," said Derek firmly. "Never doubt us. Never doubt how much I love you. It will always be true."

"Me too," she said. She was never as comfortable as he was when it came to declaring things like feelings. Her voice was quieter than his and it shook a little as she spoke, but she meant every word. "It'll always be true."

Derek kissed her softly and tugged her closer so her head was nestled against his chest. She could feel his fingers running up and down her back, soft and soothing, and it became a struggle to keep her eyes open. Now that the constant worrying about the thing had stopped, exhaustion was creeping up on her. She lay in his arms and fought to stay awake as he mumbled things to her about the future. Their future. She managed to follow along for awhile, but then she began to tremble, her aching body begging her to rest.

Derek's hand stilled against her back. "Hey," he said softly, his voice full of concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she sniffled. Tears were leaking from her eyes and the room was a blur.

"Meredith…"

"I'm so tired," she blurted out, her words a wobbly whine of exhaustion.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"I tried," said Meredith. "But I was all… And you were so…" She shook her head and balled her hands into fists, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm good now. I'm awake. You should rest."

Derek just reached over and pulled her hands gently down from her face. "I know you wanted to take care of me. And you did. I couldn't have gotten through yesterday without you. But now, now," he repeated, smoothing the hair out of her eyes. "It's my turn."

"But," she began weakly. He shook his head.

"Sleep, Meredith." His voice lulled her towards something dark and peaceful. "I'm okay. And I'll be here when you wake up." She felt a hand run through her hair. He was okay. They were engaged. It was all okay. "You can sleep now." She could. "Sleep."

For a hazy moment, all she knew was the safety of his arms around her, and then she slept.