Chapter Text
After the funeral she does not go back to her house for the wake. She cannot bear the thought of Derek’s family crowding around her, crying and hugging one another and trying to comfort her-
She doesn’t want their comfort. She doesn't want them here, these strangers, in her house, in her life with their kind words and their grief. She wants Derek-
Instead she finds herself sitting by his graveside drinking a cheap bottle of tequila she bought from the grocery store two blocks away. Her black dress is damp from the grass and her feet are bare after she kicked off the ridiculous high heeled shoes Amelia insisted she should wear. “You look beautiful,” Derek’s little sister had said to her, a pained smile on her lips as she tried to find common ground with the woman her brother loved, but Meredith had nothing to give this stranger other than a mumbled thanks to a woman she doesn’t need nor want to know.
A pair of dark shoes fills her vision and suddenly he’s sitting by her, his Armani suit trousers forgotten about as his knee touches hers in silent companionship. She doesn’t look up as she wordlessly hands him the bottle.
“He loved you.”
“Yes.”
Mark takes a long swig from the bottle and from the corner of her eye she sees him pull a disgusted face at the cheap liquor though he makes no comment. Any other day she would have teased him for being a snob, but not today. Not today when things like teasing and laughter feel like something she will never be able to do, not without Derek-
“A week ago I had a husband. We were going to have a baby.” She swallows painfully and snatches the bottle off of him. She feels blue eyes watching her carefully and she finally meets his gaze, his sad, sad gaze that makes her heart break even more-
She brings the bottle to her lips once more and she realises that she’s drunk and has to suppress a snort. Drunk at her husband’s graveside. How classy.
Derek would laugh at her, she’s sure of it. If she closes her eyes she can see his amused smile and his eyes dancing fondly and she can almost hear his bark of laughter echo in her ears-
The world is almost spinning and she tries to remember when she last ate something and she can’t remember. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters-
A hand gently covers hers and tears prick her eyes. “Now, I have nothing,” she hears herself saying, her hand curling around Mark’s desperately because he gets it and he loved Derek too and he knows her and he’s her friend too.
“It doesn’t matter that he loved me,” she breathes, tears finally escaping. “I’m alone-”
“You’re not alone,” Mark interrupts, and he pulls her to his chest, his cheek pressed against the top of her head as she cries and just for a second Meredith believes him.
-&&-
Cristina does not leave her side for a week after the funeral. Her dark eyes watch Meredith's every move, her every breath and Meredith is too busy drowning in her grief to realise that Cristina is drowning in her guilt.
They’re lying in bed together late at night when Cristina turns to her, tears clouding her eyes as she whispers, “Meredith I’m sorry-”
“Don’t,” Meredith hisses, her hands clutching together desperately because she doesn’t want to do this, not now not ever. “Just don't.”
“If I was better, if I worked faster I could have saved him,” Cristina says, her mouth twisting as she lets out a sob and Meredith’s broken heart breaks a little bit more. Hatred for him burns through her. He ruined her life, he took the love of her life away from her forever and he made Cristina Yang, the strongest, most confident person she knows, doubt herself.
He didn’t just ruin her life that day, Meredith reminds herself.
So Meredith grabs her best friend’s hand and pulls her to her side and holds onto her. “You didn't kill him,” says Meredith, her voice soft and gentle. “That.. monster who pointed a gun at his chest killed him, not you.”
She meets Cristina’s tormented eyes and realizes that maybe Meredith has lost Derek, but Cristina is losing herself and she will be damned if she lets that monster take one more thing from her.
-&&-
She goes back to work two months later and she thought she was ready, she really did, but it’s been an hour and she’s still standing in the middle of the parking lot and she can’t get her feet to move.
Licking her dry lips, she pulls out her cell phone and her first instinct is to call Cristina so she can knock some sense into her but Cristina can barely function herself and she can’t hold herself up and Meredith. For a brief moment she longs for George and his unshakeable confidence in her and aches for a pep talk from Izzie but they’re not here. They left her just like-
“Admiring the view Grey?” a smooth voice calls from behind her and Meredith jumps a foot in the air before spinning around to meet Mark’s amused gaze.
She opens her mouth to reply but no sound comes out and slowly Mark’s amusement fades. His head tilts to the side slightly as he studies her and something clenches in her chest painfully because it reminds her so much of Derek and his impenetrable gaze that always seemed to know what she’s thinking.
“There’s no shame in taking more time off, Grey,” he says casually as though he is commenting on the weather and not her inability to walk into the building where her husband was murdered. “If you’re not ready-“
“I am ready,” she interrupts, and she really freaking is. If she stays at home one more day she’s going to go insane. She’s ready to be in a hospital again, to be a doctor again. She just needs a little push-
Mark clears his throat, his lips curl into a smirk and he says, “I’ve got a Rhinoplasty booked in two hours. Fancy scrubbing in?”
Gratitude floods through her, and all she can do is nod and smile for the first time in weeks as he grins.
-&&-
People treat her differently now. They don’t mean to stare and they don’t know what to say to her and people spend more time giving her careful, sympathetic smiles these days than actually talking to her. The first week she ignores it. She gets it, she really does. Even she wouldn’t know what to say to the widowed doctor who willingly returned to the place where her husband died.
She focuses on surgery. She logs as many hours in the OR as she can until the Chief tells her to go home.
Eat, sleep, surgery, repeat.
It’s twisted. The one place that she can find any solace these days is in the place where Derek took his last breath. And yet she can’t bring herself to go back to her empty house and her empty bed so she lives her empty life within the walls of the hospital.
-&&-
“You can talk to me, you know,” Alex says three days after Cristina quits the program. She doesn’t know what to do or how to help her friend and Meredith barely has the strength to keep herself together but she’s trying to help her person, she really is but she can’t be around Cristina and Owen and not hate them a little for being in their happy little bubble despite the fact that all of their lives falling apart.
Most days Alex seems to be her only source of comfort in her mundane post Derek life. He doesn’t look at her in concern and pity and asks if she is alright every hour of the day like Lexie who smothers her with her love and worry. No, Alex acts like she’s a person
It’s three in the morning and a patient died on the table in front of her today and for an awful moment Meredith thought she was going to cry because all she could see was Derek, her husband, her future cold and dead and gone-
“What?” Meredith mumbles through numb lips, her fingers curled around an untouched glass of Derek’s favourite Scotch. Her eyes flick up to meet Alex’s and she doesn’t see the pity that everyone else looks at her with. No, he understands. He’s been left behind too, but perhaps it was even worse for him because his wife chose to leave him.
Derek didn’t leave her by choice. At least she has that.
Alex heaves a sigh and sits next to her. He snatches the glass from Meredith and drains it, a content sigh escaping his lips. “Damn, Shepherd had good taste.”
A smile tugs at Meredith lips and she rests her head against Alex’s shoulder. “Of course he did. He married me.” Alex snorts but offers no reply and this is why she loves him. He lets her know in his own way that he has her back without having to go all warm and fuzzy.
She hesitates for a moment, guilt gnawing at her as she speaks the words. “How did you do it? How did you move on?” It almost feels like a betrayal, but she can’t carry on living like this. It’s been months and she can’t keep drowning in her grief any longer-
Alex curls his arm around her shoulder. “You just do.”
Meredith snorts. “That’s a shit answer,” she says and his laughter echoes in her ear.
“I know, but it’s the only answer I’ve got.” He pauses as he thinks through his next words, his voice uncharacteristically gentle when he finally speaks. “You’re alive, Mer. You miss him, and yeah, you always will and it sucks. But it’s okay to live.”
Meredith doesn’t reply, and if Alex notices her tears against his shoulder he doesn’t say anything.
-&&-
It’s Derek’s birthday and she doesn’t remember until after lunch and she spends an hour crying in the bathroom because what kind of wife doesn’t remember her dead husband's birthday?
“Come for a drink with me Grey,” Sloan demands in her ear that evening, long after her tears have dried up and the soul sucking guilt has kicked in. When she looks up from the chart in front of her, his smile is as charming as any Disney Prince she grew up watching as a child.
Derek’s smile could break her heart. In the early days, back when he chose his wife over his mistress, that friendly little smile he would send her way everyday just about broke her but it’s also what got her through the day-
Jesus Christ she needs to stop this before she drives herself insane.
Meredith barely gives him a smile. “Why are you being nice to me?”
Mark shoots her a look, his brow furrowed in bewilderment and something flutters in her belly. “I’ve always been nice to you.”
Meredith snorts. “No you haven’t! You’ve flirted with me and you’ve tolerated me for the sake of Derek and Lexie. You’ve never actually been nice to me.”
Mark rolls his eyes, smirk firmly in place. “Sure I have. We’re friends.”
She’s about to reply that they are most definitely not friends but then she remembers his arms wrapped around her at a grave that she cannot bear to visit and his kind, confident eyes as he helped her find the courage to get back into the hospital.
They aren’t friends, not like Alex and Cristina are her friends. He was Derek’s best friend, his brother. But perhaps they could be.
“Alright,” she replies, trying to muster up a smile that feels foreign on her face, but the blinding smile Mark gives her makes it feel real.
-&&-
She’s drunk. Drunker than she has any right to be when she’s supposed to be scrubbing into a Wipple with Bailey in the morning. She tells herself it’s the reason why she’s laughing so much and finally being able to talk about Derek without having to swallow back tears and not Mark with his easy smile and his infectious laugh-
“I forgot his birthday,” Meredith says, and Mark looks at her without judgement in his eyes. She lets out a bitter laugh. “I forgot my husband's birthday and he’s not even been dead a year. I’m a terrible wife.”
“I slept with his wife.” Mark shrugs. “He’d forgive you in a heartbeat.” He raises his drink in a toast. “To Derek, the best man I’ve ever known.”
Tears prick Meredith’s eyes as she quietly murmurs, “Happy Birthday Derek.” She drains her drink and watches Mark, the droop of his shoulders and the grief displayed on his face for her alone to see. It’s easy to assume that Mark is moving on with his life as he settles down with Lexie once more and hangs out with Callie and just lives.
But now she realises that perhaps his eyes are a little too happy and his smile is too wide to be real-
She’s not the only one struggling, she realises with a jolt of surprise.
“I miss him,” he admits quietly, his words only slightly slurred. “I… I don’t know how to live in a world without Derek Shepherd.”
Meredith places her hand over his, and finally, finally, someone understands.
They get a cab home, and she presses a kiss to his cheek when he walks her to the door. “Thank you,” she says softly when he looks down at her in surprise, and she flees into the house before he can reply.
-&&-
She’s unprepared when she bumps into Addison in the lobby at the hospital. Even now, after all these years, she still had to swallow back the urge to apologise to the gorgeous woman in front of her for sleeping with her husband and having a hand in the break up of their marriage. They make awkward small talk, the memory of Addison breaking down in the middle of the funeral fresh in her mind and Derek’s mother comforting her despite her own tears as though Addison was still Derek’s wife-
Yeah, Meredith is still bitter about it.
As they make their awkward goodbyes, Meredith can’t help but ask, “How did you do it? Get over him?”
And Addison can only smile sadly, pity and understanding in her eyes as she replies, “I don’t think anyone gets over Derek Shepherd.”
-&&-
He was just a man. A kind, intelligent man who lit up her entire world, but he was just a man.
She repeats the mantra in silence until she falls asleep, hoping that maybe tomorrow she’ll believe it.
(She doesn’t.)
-&&-
Lexie moves back in and locks herself in her room for three days straight and when she eventually ventures out her eyes are red, mouth set in an angry line and snaps when Meredith asks her if she’s alright.
“Did Mark do something?” she asks even though she really should just mind her own business, but she can’t help herself as she follows Lexie into the kitchen, watches with guarded eyes as her sister slams her cupboard doors shut and has to hide a wince when she turns her angry eyes on her.
“You’d love that wouldn’t you? To tell me you were right all along that he would break my heart-“
There’s more, but Meredith let’s her vent while privately thinking that she had been wrong. Whatever’s happened between them was not something done with malicious intent on Mark's part. A fool could see that Mark loved Lexie more than life itself-
Something ugly and bitter floods through her at just the thought.
I’m jealous , she realises with a jolt of surprise and shame as Lexie throws her a dirty look and storms out of the kitchen.
I’m jealous of their love for one another, Meredith reassures herself. Not of Mark loving Lexie-
-&&-
She does a good job of convincing herself for the rest of the day, but when she goes to bed that night, she can’t help but slip her hand inside of her panties and when she comes with a silent cry and her fingers pressed against her clitoris, it’s Marks face she sees behind her closed eyes, not Derek’s.
-&&-
Lexie would kill her if she knew Meredith was here with him, but after avoiding him most of the day out of plain shame and embarrassment, Mark finally managed to corner her just as she was leaving the hospital and asked her to go for a drink with him. She almost said no, should have said no, but the defeated slope of his shoulders and the tightness in his eyes made her say yes and the small, grateful smile he sent her way made her belly all fluttery and-
“Callie’s pregnant.”
Meredith looks up at him slowly, the drink halfway to her mouth long forgotten about. “How lovely,” Meredith says, a smile as fake as sin on her lips as something twists in the pit of the stomach.
Mark groans and rests his head in his hands. “It’s mine. She’s pregnant with my kid.”
Meredith’s breath leaves her in a rush. She takes a sip of her beer, tries to tell herself that she doesn’t care that her friends are having a baby, that she’s happy for them, she really is but it’s just that she would have been due to give birth any day now yet here she is, alone once again-
And then it dawns on her what he’s said and she is honestly the worst sister in the world and doesn’t deserve Lexie at all. Meredith narrows her eyes into slits and quietly hisses, “You cheated on Lexie?”
Mark’s head snaps up and shoots her a glare of his own. “No. I wouldn’t do that to her,” he says, affronted. “It happened before we got back together.”
She swallows back an apology and there’s a long silence. “Is that why she’s moved back into my place?”
Mark nods, his mouth pressed into a flat line. He’d known the moment that Callie told him she’s carrying his child that Lexie was lost to him for good. “She walked out on me. Again.”
Meredith sighs. “I’m sorry Mark,” she says softly.
A bitter smile twists his lips. “I finally get to be a dad but I can’t be with the woman I love.” He grabs his glass of whiskey and knocks it back in one. “She didn’t even want to try-“
“You can’t force her to want the same things as you, Mark. And if it were me, I certainly couldn’t have watched Derek have a baby with another woman.”
“I just thought that maybe, just this once, I could have had it all, you know?” he says, looking at her with eyes so sad it makes her heart ache. She reaches out to him, her hand curling around his and a pained smile on her lips.
“Yeah, I know,” she replies.
“To never getting a happy ending,” he toasts, and Meredith swallows back the urge to cry and clinks her glass against his.
-&&-
She wakes one morning and can’t stand the sight of all of his things thrown across the house like he’s still here. So that afternoon, she grabs a bottle of tequila and goes through the process of sorting through his clothes. She texts Mark asking him if there’s anything of Derek’s that he would like to keep but she doesn’t receive a reply and she has to stifle her disappointment. He’s a surgeon and about to be a dad, what does she expect?
She’s drunk when she’s sorting through his office and she finds an envelope with her name on it in Derek’s handwriting.
For a long time she can only stare at it, not quite brave enough to open it because she knows whatever it is will shatter her carefully glued back together heart and she’s not quite sure that she can put herself back together again. That day she thought that she had died with him, that she should have died too and it’s taken all of her strength to claw her way back up to the surface, to fight for a life worth living in a world without him. But Derek wanted her to see it and she can’t let go of him, not yet-
Her fingers tremble as she slowly opens it and her eyes blue fill with tears before she even reads the first words.
Dear Meredith,
There are two scenarios in which you are reading this letter. The first, the one that I hope is real, is that I am 110 and I have stumbled across this letter that I wrote the day after I became your husband and we are about to laugh at how foolish I was. The second is that I am dead.
If it is the first, then you should know by now how much I love you, even when we’re old and smelly. If it is the second, then I can only apologize for breaking my promise. But know that I love you, even in death and what comes next. Don’t be afraid to love again. Find someone who treats you well, better than I ever did. Have babies, be the magnificent surgeon you are but most importantly, be happy.
You more than anyone in this world deserve to be loved, Meredith.
I love you, always.
Derek
Meredith cries.