(no subject)

[derekwiththegoodhair]

Derek watches out the window for the entire plane ride, jittery and jumping out of his seat every time a flight attendant approaches him. He desperately wants a drink, several drinks, but he knows he can’t show up drunk. It’s going to be bad enough that he shows up at all. He doesn’t even know where to find her, in all honesty, and so he takes a cab to the hospital, hazarding a guess that she might be there since it’s still early enough in the afternoon.

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[grieftograce]

Meredith is overwhelmed, still, managing life as an attending with three young children in her care, so much so that any grief she might be feeling is tucked far away inside her so that she doesn’t have to acknowledge it when someone asks how she’s doing since her husband died over a year ago. She brushes every attempt at sympathy off and focuses instead on her daily surgeries, today wrapping up an appendectomy when she’s told there’s someone in the lobby waiting for her.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

Derek’s palms are so sweaty that he has to wipe them on his pants, feeling like a wrinkled mess after flying across the country. He probably should have changed, or something, but he didn’t exactly waste time packing a bag, so he certainly didn’t want to waste time cleaning up. He’s perched on the edge of his chair, looking around at all the changes, waiting.

[grieftograce]

The moment she spots him, she’s certain she’s having hallucinations, or maybe she’s fallen asleep somewhere in the hospital on one of her limited breaks. She looks around her before coming close to him, and all she can do is reach out and touch his shoulder to see if he’s real.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

He practically jumps out of his skin when she touches him, the electricity almost too much to bear after a year away from her. She looks good, tired, maybe, but beautiful, and he can’t help but smile. “Hey.”

[grieftograce]

“You’re – how are you here?” she asks, begging the tears at the corners of her eyes away. She doesn’t know whether to hug him or slap him.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“I...it was, I was in witness protection, but they let me go...” he says, not sure what she’s thinking for maybe the first time ever. He wants to touch her so badly that his hands ache, and he wishes more than anything that they were somewhere more private, and all he can do is shift his weight. “I’m home now.”

[grieftograce]

“But I buried you. Six feet under the earth, I buried you,” she says, starting to get freaked out and then realising she might be drawing attention to them. She nods towards the nearest room that’s private and draws the blinds.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“I’m not dead,” he says lamely, unsure of how to handle this conversation. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he follows her, because he knows now that touching her is not something she wants.

[grieftograce]

“But it doesn’t make sense!” she says, sitting down and scrubbing her hand over her face. She wants so badly up reach out and touch him, feel him, but she’s scared.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“They wanted my brain mapping software and they wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” he says, looking into her eyes and hating the way his voice shakes. “They were watching me, constantly, I couldn’t get back.”

[grieftograce]

“But we buried you,” she says, and then buries her face in her hands and wonders if she should ironically call for a neuro consult. “I must be hallucinating, I haven’t been sleeping, this is just some... wonderful dream.”

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“I’m real!” he cries, desperately. He reaches for her hands then, grasping them tightly, needing her to believe in him. “Please, it’s me. I’m here.”

[grieftograce]

He grasps her fingers so tight that they almost hurt, and she gasps as she realises then that she’s definitely awake. “Oh my god,” she says. “You’re really here.”

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“I’m here,” he repeats, trying to read her mind. He wants to hug her, to kiss her, to hold her and never let her go, but he’s terrified of making a mistake, and he doesn’t know what she wants from him. He realizes with a start that she might have already moved on, and it makes him sick. “I’m sorry, I...I tried.”

[grieftograce]

“But they wouldn’t let you,” she says, and she hugs him, then, hugs him tighter than she’s ever hugged anyone. She doesn’t know where to go from here but she does know that the love of her life is back, and that’s enough.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“I missed you,” he murmurs into her hair, hugging her back just as tightly. He starts to cry, then, he can’t help it, overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions. “God, I missed you so much.”

[grieftograce]

“I don’t - I didn’t...” she starts, but she can’t find the words. She’d spend nine months in hell in San Diego, denying herself any connection to anyone but her children, and this is almost too much to handle. “You’re real,” she concludes, finally.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“Yeah, I’m real,” he says softly, wondering if she was trying to say she didn’t miss him? He decides that can’t be possible, not based on the way she’s holding him. “I’m right here, Meredith.”

[grieftograce]

She pulls back to cup his cheeks, then kisses him deeply, thinking all kinds of things about how she’s going to tell people he’s back – how she’s going to tell Amelia – but really only caring about his lips on hers.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“Mmm,” he hums softly against her lips, suddenly having no idea how he survived the last year without her kisses. He tangles his fingers in her hair, kissing her back with just as much enthusiasm.

[grieftograce]

Eventually the kissing slows to a stop, and Meredith just rests her head against his chest and listens for his heartbeat. It’s there, strong as ever. “I just, I need some time before we tell everyone. I need to figure out how to tell everyone.”

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“That’s okay,” he says, stroking her hair and holding her against him, grateful for her steady presence. “I’m not really ready for everyone else yet, either. I only came here because I couldn’t wait to see you.”

[grieftograce]

“I’m glad you did,” Meredith says, because Ellis is at home with a nanny and she’d rather explain it beforehand than have him figure out on his own. “I, um, there’s so much... I don’t know where to start.”

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“Oh, uh, it’s okay...” he says nervously, because he really isn’t ready to hear if she’s been dating someone. He swallows, trying to sound calm. “Is Bailey...is he in daycare? Zola’s probably still at school, right? But I could just...I could do see him? I won’t bother him, I can just watch through the window...”

[grieftograce]

“Zola’s at school, yeah,” she nods, her stomach turning at what she says next: “Bailey’s in daycare. And Ellis... Ellis is with a nanny. You can see any of them whenever you want.”