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[derekwiththegoodhair]

Derek is finally back in Seattle, underweight and quite honestly not mentally sound, either. His vision is almost constantly blurry, his head always pounding, but he still makes his way back home, knocking on the door with shaking hands. He’s all prepared with a lame joke about how he forgot his keys, a small premature smile on his face, and then a man answers. “Can I help you?”

Comments

[grieftograce]

Meredith is getting ready for work, expecting the knock on the door to be an early salesman of a friend of Chris. She comes downstairs all the same, and promptly faints at what she sees.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

She faints, and honestly he’s close to passing out as well. The man is wearing sweatpants and no shoes, clearly at home in the home that Derek built for his own family. Still, he kneels next to her, his neuro instincts kicking in even after being dormant for so long.

[grieftograce]

Meredith remains unconscious for about five minutes, and when she opens her eyes the reason she passed out to begin with is staring her straight in the eyes, overwhelming her all over again. “No, no,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re dead.”

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“It’s a long, shitty story,” he says, mostly staring into her eyes, though he does throw a glance at the man hovering on her other side. “I think you hit your head,” he says, frowning.

[grieftograce]

“Should I take her in for an examination?” Chris asks, looking anxiously between Derek and Meredith and seeming anxious, if clueless.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“Uh, I can handle it,” he says, realizing that this stranger has no idea who he is, looking back down at Meredith. He asks her several questions, makes sure she can follow his finger with her eyes, and eventually pulls her to sit up. “Are you dizzy?”

[grieftograce]

"I'm seeing dead people, that's a little beyond dizzy," she says, and then she turns to her side to immediately be sick, right there on the floor, because this is both her worst nightmare and a dream come true.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“Hey, you’re okay,” he says softly, basically edging the other man out of the way as he holds her hair back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have a way to warn you, I haven’t had a phone in a long time.”

[grieftograce]

"I don't understand," Meredith says, wiping her mouth and sitting up straight. Chris stands back, starting to realize what's going on, and it makes Meredith's stomach hurt. "I don't understand!"

[derekwiththegoodhair]

The way she looks at him for reassurance almost kills him, and he drops his hand from his hair, instead balling it into a fist. “Like I said, it’s a long, shitty story,” he says, defensive. “Who is he?”

[grieftograce]

"He's my – we're dating," she answers, and that's when Chris steps forward, suggesting that maybe this should happen on another day, because Meredith seems upset.

"I'm not upset!" she counters, and she looks Derek in the eyes: "I am ripped apart."

[derekwiththegoodhair]

He just looks into her eyes, feeling every bit as devastated as she is, though for entirely different reasons. Tears sting his eyes as his chest tightens, thinking instead he might have to head to a hospital for a panic attack. He scrambles to his feet, wanting to get the hell out of there.

[grieftograce]

"It's been four years, Derek," she says, her own throat tightening. Chris looks utterly confused as for what to do, clearly wanting to leave it in the hands of his girlfriend who, frankly, has always been the one in control. "I buried you! I buried you six feet in the ground, covered with flowers. How are you here?" She grabs his arm, shouts: "How are you here?"

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“I was comatose!” he yells back, angry. Made even angrier that he has to do this in front of his wife’s ‘boyfriend.’ “Unconscious, for years, until they used me as my own test subject, and sent me away with nothing but a plane ticket when they were done with me!”

[grieftograce]

"But I buried you!" She can't get passed that part, past that day, how she'd chosen what he would wear when he was in the coffin so carefully but for some reason or other wasn't allowed to see him. Was this why? No. This only happens in movies, bad movies, Meredith tells herself. She bursts into tears, starts sobbing: "We all did."

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“I don’t know what they did!” he says, and now he’s shaking with anger as well as exhaustion. She starts to sob but he doesn’t move to comfort her, because he recognizes that he has no right to, or any ability to calm her down. “I’ve been locked up, for years.”

[grieftograce]

"This is – I can't breathe," Meredith announces, and Chris comes to her side then, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"I think we should get you checked out for shock, sweetheart," he says, and Meredith just keeps staring holes in Derek's eyes.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“I’ll go,” he says bitterly, knowing that will fix her problems, because his arrival is what started them in the first place. “I - can I just, I mean, are there any pictures of the kids I can have? They can be old...”

[grieftograce]

"No!" she says, not regarding the pictures but regarding his absence. "Please, just, stay until they get home. I need – they need to see you."

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“Right,” he snorts, “because it’s going so well with you?” He wipes his hands on the too-big pants he was given, at a loss. “Besides, I’m pretty sure your boyfriend here doesn’t want me hanging around.”

[grieftograce]

Chris gets defensive, then, standing up and in front of Meredith. "I don't have a problem with you being here, as long as you're not upsetting Meredith."

[derekwiththegoodhair]

“Look, you don’t have to protect my wife from me,” he says, irritated with his display of dominance. He looks around , desperate for a glimpse of his children, even in a tiny photograph.

[grieftograce]

"Please just stay," Meredith says, because she doesn't know what she'll do if he walks out and she never sees him again. Chris looks stricken, turns and heads upstairs without a word.

[derekwiththegoodhair]

He perches on the edge of the couch with a pointed look in her direction, folding his arms across his chest. This can’t possible go well, he knows, at least on her end, but he can’t force himself to leave the one place he wants to be.

[grieftograce]

“I have photos,” she blurts out, heading toward an album that she’d had processed recently. She carries it over to Derek, her hands shaking.