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Derek Shepherd was not fat. He didn't care what Mark had said to get him off the couch and running down the street. Mark had said something about him getting fat, right after saying something about endorphins cheering him up. But he wasn't fat. He had gotten a little soft around the edge in the last year because it had seemed like too much work, but he wasn't fat. It didn't even make sense that Mark would call him fat. If anything, he has lost weight. And muscle mass. He didn't need muscle mass, he didn't need to impress anyone, so it didn't even make sense that Mark would think he was fat. Of course, Mark didn't think he was fat. Mark was just...trying to bring endorphins or something. But Derek didn't want endorphins either, he didn't need endorphins

He wasn't fine. He wasn't an idiot or anything, he knew he wasn't doing okay. Not that he expected to be magically happy when he moved to Seattle, he hadn't expected everything to just fade and to slip back into the man he remembered being years ago. But he had kind of figured that it was going to be easier by now than it actually was. Breathing shouldn't hurt. But everything hurt. Over the last two weeks, everything had been hurting more and more. He had tried to think of why. Tried to figure out if it was Amy's birthday, or Sarah's birthday, but it wasn't. And it wasn't his anniversary. That wasn't it at all. So he had no idea what was wrong with him. Except he was starting to figure out that it might be Sarah's first week of school, if she were alive.

He had never really thought of it. When she had died, it had been too early to start thinking about childhood. He hadn't been thinking of what it would be like to get her all dressed and climb into the car to take her to her first day of school. It hadn't even crossed his mind, but it was happening now. Or it would be happening and he could only figure its why it hurt so much. His little girl was supposed to be nervous about school. She was supposed to be asking him thousands of questions and wanting to dress like Sleeping Beauty for her first day. But she wasn't. She wasn't asking questions or wanting to dress like Sleeping Beauty. She was...Derek didn't want to think of what his daughter was as the breath caught in his throat and he stopped jogging, fighting tears. Mark paused beside him and didn't say a word. Mark didn't ask question, especially not stupid questions about whether or not he was okay. He didn't try to make it seem like it was okay. He just stood there and Derek kind of hoped that one day he'd figure out how to thank his brother for all of this. If it ever stopped hurting to breathe, he would do something to make this up to Mark. His hands tightened into fists as people walked by them, pausing to look at him. He wasn't going to break down in the middle of Seattle. There was no way he was going to break down over the idea of his tiny little girl wanting so badly to be a princess. "Breathe, man," Mark said carefully.

"Trying," Derek gasped slightly. "Trying."

"Another panic attack?"

"Starting," Derek nodded.

"Right," Mark nodded slowly, pushing him hard against the wall.

"What...what are you doing?" Derek breathed.

"Getting you out of everyone's way."

"Oh."

"Just breathe, man."

"I know, I know," Derek nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to see nothing.

"Good," Mark sighed, squeezing his shoulder.

"Just...need a minute."

"Giving you a minute."

"I know."

"Breathe," Mark nodded, gulping down his water.

"I am...or trying..."

"Slow down, Shep."

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