I opened the front door to the house and stepped into the foyer with Derek. I took a deep breath, enjoying the fact that we were finally home. It was around noon now, and I turned to face Derek, who was doing the same thing I was.
"Let's get you settled upstairs and I'll make you something for lunch," I offered.
"You? Make me something for lunch?" He teased.
"Shut up! Sandwiches aren't that hard," I laughed.
"Hey! You guys finally made it home!" Jackson appears out of the living room.
"Yes, we did." I smile.
Derek and I made our way over to the stairs and I wrapped my arm around my husband to steady him as he grasped the railing and me to slowly make his way upstairs. When we reached the top, he was breathless and I quickly helped him into our room.
Instead of laying right in the bed, he went over to the dresser and pulled off his shirt to change into some new clothes. In a mirror I could see the reflection of his scar, and it sent shivers through me.
He glanced up at my reflection in a mirror that sat in the corner, doing a double take when he saw I was staring. Quickly I dropped my gaze and turned around, pulling off my own shirt to change as well. When I was done changing I turned back around to face him.
Derek was standing there, still topless, watching me. I looked away as he stepped closer.
"The scar, right?" He asked softly.
I nodded, still avoiding his gaze. He stepped even closer, now only a few inches away from me. I felt his hand in mine and he gave it a squeeze. I finally risked a look at his face, trying to avoid the chest.
I frowned when I felt him moving my hand upwards. Upwards towards his chest.
"Derek," I said, gently trying to pull away but he held on.
He used his other hand to cup my face, forcing me to look at him as he slowly put my hand on the scar.
I gasped and shut my eyes when I felt it, making another attempt to pull away, but he held me there. I felt tears sting at the back of my eyes, and a lump rose in my throat. I pushed it back, slowly opening my eyes to again look at his face.
For once, I couldn't read him. I just stared into the pools of bright blue, slowly starting to relax. He pushed my hand a little harder into his chest before he dropped the hand that was holding mine there.
My first instinct was to pull it away, but instead I kept my hand there, drawing in steadying breaths and running my fingers along his skin.
"It's okay," he whispered, "I'm okay."
I wrapped my other hand around his body and stepped in to kiss him, passionately. He held me close to him as he deepened the kiss. Before it could go any further, I pulled away.
"You should, uh, get in bed. I'll make lunch and bring it back up here. We can watch a movie or something," I say, easing him down into the bed.
I reach over and grab a shirt out of his dresser, tossing it to him before I went downstairs. I leaned against the island, running my hands over my face and through my hair for a minute.
"You okay?" Jackson asks, and I look up to see him leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
"I'm fine." I reply with a fake smile.
"You want me to make something? I'm not very skilled in the kitchen either, but probably better than you," He jokes.
I nod and chuckle. Jackson opened the pantry, finding a can on chicken noodle soup.
"Soup?" He asks, waving the can for me to see.
"Come on, I could heat up some soup if I needed to,"
"You'd find a way to burn it," Jackson laughs, pouring the soup into a pot and sitting it on the stove to heat up. We sat in silence until he tasted it, deciding it was hot enough he got out three bowls and set them on the counter.
"Oh no, just fill up two. I'm not hungry," I tell him.
Jackson shoots me a questioning glance, opening his mouth to question me, but thinks better of it and just puts the third bowl away. I thanked him and grabbed one bowl for Derek, and headed back upstairs to found Derek under the covers in bed, remote in hand watching the T.V.
"Jackson heated up some soup," I said, handing him a bowl before settling into bed beside him.
"Soup is good," He said. "None for you?"
I shook my head, "Not hungry."
I could tell he wanted to talk more, but luckily decided not to press the issue.
We started a movie, and spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies or reading until I heard the door open downstairs.
"Hello?" A voice called.
I hopped out of bed and looked down into the foyer over the stairs to find my sister.
"Hey Lex, Derek and I are up here,"
"Oh, hey," She smiled, kicking off her shoes and coming upstairs to face me, "I brought pizza, you hungry?"
"Leave some down here for me!" Jackson called from the living room and Lexies disappeared for a moment, probably to give him a slice before reappearing in the foyer.
"Yeah, bring the rest up," I smiled, grabbing the box from her when she was halfway up the stairs and heading back into my room, beckoning her to follow.
I made enough room in the bed for her to sit with Derek and I, and all three of us dug into the pizza and laughed at the comedy show we were watching. I only ate a slice, but I ate it slowly, hoping it would make it seem like I was eating more.
When it got later, Lexie took what was left of the pizza and put it in the fridge before going into her own room.
Derek turned off the TV and slowly laid back in bed on his side so he could face me. There was a dim light coming from my bedside lamp, so I could just barley see his face.
"You didn't eat much today," He observed.
I shrugged, "I just wasn't hungry,"
"Usually you're like a human garbage disposal, Mer, you have to eat,"
"I am eating. I do eat." I insisted before snapping off the remaining light and settling back into bed, facing away from him.
I heard him sigh, but soon I could hear his breathing and I knew he was asleep. I rolled onto my back, studying the ceiling. Somehow, I wasn't tired either.
I knew it wasn't healthy, but I just felt like my body couldn't function. I didn't realize I was drifting off until I actually was. Finally, sleep came over me.
Meredith walked up the stairs at Seattle Grace Mercy West hospital, with Cristina at her side. The hospital was supposed to be on lockdown, but the two figured it was just a drill. Meredith had a hand resting on her abdomen, unable to wipe a smile off her face, thinking about the life that was growing inside of her.
Cristina was going to be the baby's godmother, and they were on their way to Derek's office to tell him that Meredith was pregnant. They were both laughing, until Cristina abruptly stopped and grabbed Meredith's arm, causing her to stop as well.
Cristina pulled Meredith back behind the staircase and crouched down. Cristina's eyes were wide with shock, and Meredith turned to see what she was looking at. There was a man holding a gun out, pointing it directly towards Derek, not ten feet away, who had his hands raised and was slowly trying to back away.
Fear and horror shot through her, and if Cristina hadn't shushed her, Meredith would have screamed. Terrified, she watched the scene unfold in front of her. Derek was trying to talk to the shooter, get him to lower his weapon.
Then, Derek stepped back. Too fast. The gunman shot, directly into Derek's chest. Meredith screamed. Cristina tried to hold her back, but Meredith ran up the stairs to where her husband lay on the ground.
The shooter raised his weapon and shot again. Twice, three times. Meredith ran to her husband's side, trying to stop the bleeding as she cried over him. There was too much blood. Blood was everywhere, it was soaking through her scrubs. Meredith screamed for help, but Cristina had disappeared. She looked into her husband's eyes as the life drained out of them.
She turned around, only to be faced with the shooter. He had reloaded his gun and pointed it at Meredith. With no hesitation, he shot. Pain scorched through her as she collapsed next to Derek's body. There was more blood. She felt like she was drowning, the smell was thick in the air and the sticky, thick liquid surrounded her. Her lungs burned as she was engulfed in blood and just as the darkness took over her she screamed once again.
"NO!" I jolted upright in bed, in a panic. I was covered in sweat, and my heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. My eyes were wild and I was gasping for air, my throat sore from screaming.
I looked around my room, trying unsuccessfully to calm myself down. It was 3:30 AM, and when I heard movement next to me I jumped out of bed in fear, struggling to breathe.
Derek sat up quickly, immediately wide awake and he turned to face me. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly aware of the tears streaking steadily down my cheeks. Derek got out of bed and came over to me, but each time he took a step closer I took a step back.
Before I knew it, I was against the wall. I sobbed and gasped for air, slowly sinking to the floor. It registered in my mind that I was having a panic attack, and I had screamed out loud, which had awoken me and my husband.
"Meredith," He called softly, slowly approaching me.
"Derek," I responded between gasps, my voice sounding broken, "I can't- I, I don't... I can't," I struggled to speak.
He reached my and crouched down in front of me. The doctor in me knew that I had to breathe and focus on the things in front of me to calm myself down, but the PTSD me was still soaked in Derek's and my own blood.
He reached out and grabbed one of me shoulders with one hand and cupped my face with the other. At first I flinched at his touch, but eventually eased into it.
"I'm here. I'm okay. Focus on me. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," He commanded, speaking softly but firmly.
I could feel my heart rate starting to slow as I stared into his eyes, but the tears didn't stop and I was still gasping for air.
"Breathe. Just breathe. Focus on me, breathe with me," He said, taking deep breaths, which I tried to mimic.
"I'm so sorry," I tried, "I can't, I-I..."
He hushed me and pulled my body towards his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around me. It was becoming easier to breathe, I felt safer in his arms.
"I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," he repeated, "It's okay. You're okay, I'm okay,"
Slowly, I calmed down. Derek didn't stop whispering to me, nor did he relax his grip. I allowed one sob to escape me, then held the rest in, forcing it down. I forced myself to stop crying. I moved my hands to my face, wiping my eyes and cheeks. Then, Derek moved his arms away from me and I slowly stood up, trying to collect myself.
He also tried to get up, but a pained look crossed his face. I immediately went down and helped him back to his feet.
"Oh, god. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," I apologized, helping him back to the bed.
"Stop it. Stop apologizing. You witnessed a shooting. You almost died. You're allowed to have some problems after that," He said, pulling me to sit down on the edge of the bed beside him.
"I was dreaming. I watched you die. Then he shot me, I felt myself dying. There was so much blood. I was drowning in the blood," I whispered, my voice coming out high-pitched as I might start crying again.
Derek pulled my into his embrace and kissed the top of my head. "It was just a bad dream. Only a dream. I'm here now, and we're okay. We'll get through this."
I purposefully left out the part about the baby. Guilty, I opened my mouth to tell him, but closed it again. Enough had happened. I had just put him through enough that night.
Maybe he never had to know. I pondered as I welcomed the warmth of my husband around me. Maybe I could just never tell him. I would keep it to myself, so he would never have to feel the pain I felt. He had enough pain on his own.
"Do you think you can go back to sleep?" He asked tentatively.
I shook my head and stood up.
"No, but you should rest. I'm gonna go get some water," I say, leaving him sitting on the bed looking after me as I open our bedroom door to go downstairs.
I take a few steps only to see a figure appear from the bedroom down the hall. I jump, audibly gasping until I recognize Lexie. Her hair was messy and she yawned, blinking sleep from her eyes.
"I heard screaming. Everything okay?" She asked.
"Yes, everything is fine now. I'm fine," I told her, "Go back to sleep,"
She obeyed, closing her bedroom door as I made my way downstairs to get something to drink and knowing there was no way I would be able to sleep again, maybe finding something to watch on T.V.