29. Season 3 premiere

The sun was barely coming up on the west coast, casting an uneasy glow across the damp and dreary landscape. Derek sighed heavily as he collapsed onto the bottom steps of the staircase by the OR board, exhaustion clinging to him with every weary intake of air he took. It was quiet still in the hospital, not quite late enough for a shift change, but time for the night staff to be beginning their final rounds on checking their patients and making their notes.

It was the time of day where he could sit in the middle of the hospital and have privacy.

He unenthusiastically pulled his phone off of his waistband and dialled the familiar number. It may be early on the west coast, but the sun would be up and cheerful across the country, well into its daily ritual through the sky.

His mother answered after only three rings.

"Hi, mom, it's me."

"Derek!" She exclaimed. "Is everything alright? It's early for you to be calling."

He nodded to himself, even though he knew she could not tell. "Yeah, I just...I'm sorry, mom..."

"Sorry about what, dear?" Her voice was full of concern for her only son.

"I don't think we're going to make it tomorrow." He and Meredith were supposed to board a plane at ten the next morning, but when he had talked with her fifteen minutes prior, she had told him Izzy hadn't ventured off the bathroom floor yet.

"How come? Is something wrong?"

He felt his chest tighten at her concern. Derek had been looking forward to going home; he had never expected to feel homesick, but right now, he wanted his family. And he wanted Meredith to meet, and integrate with, his family. He needed a sign that said he had found a new life that would last him forever. Things could change in an instant, and he couldn't lose his grasp on this wonderful new life he had made for himself. "One of Mer's best friends...and our roommate, her, uh...her fiancé passed away last night. And she doesn't have anyone else to be here with her..."

His mother inhaled sharply. "My goodness, I'm so sorry. Was he ill?"

Derek closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool steel of the railing next to him. "He had chronic heart problems." His mother was not a doctor, and wouldn't understand any more than that. "And he had a heart transplant yesterday morning. Everything was good. He was awake and recovering nicely..."

"So, what happened?"

"Life," Derek answered. "Life happened. Things just happen, that you can't control. One minute he was fine, with a new heart and a fiancée and a future, and the next..." He didn't finish; he didn't have to.

"And...your roommate? How is she?"

Derek sighed. After driving Meredith home, he had only seen Izzy once, as Meredith had attempted to comfort her in the bathroom. His girlfriend had knocked twice before silently turning the knob. The door had opened just far enough for Meredith to squeeze her tiny frame through. But it had been enough. The small sliver of light coming through the doorway lit up their broken roommate in an almost stagnant glow. The scene of the blonde laying across the floor, broken, still dressed in her prom dress, haunted him, playing behind his lids every time he closed his eyes. "Not good."

"And Meredith?"

He almost smiled at his mother's concern. "She's..." He could still picture the crushed expression on her face as she staggered back out of the bathroom, fresh tears falling from her cheerless eyes. She had fallen into his arms and cried for the better part of an hour. And he had held her and cried a few tears of his own, silently into her hair. Denny's death had hit too close to home for all of them. "Not good either."

She sighed on the other end of the phone line. "And how about you, Derek? How are you coping?"

He was exhausted, but couldn't sleep, because he was afraid that if he fell asleep without Meredith in his arms that he would dream of losing her. He felt like crap, as he hadn't slept for the past two nights. His throat was starting to ache. His legs and back were screaming protest from the number of surgeries he had performed in the past forty-eight hours. He was still concerned for his friend, who was lying upstairs in a hospital bed, nursing an injured arm and acting strange. He was worried about his girlfriend and her friends. He wasn't going to get to see his family the next day. And he was sitting on the stairs in the middle of the hospital, completely dishevelled, fighting the urge to find a quiet place to lie down and cry. And Derek Shepherd wasn't one to cry. "I...I don't know how I am."

"Derek..."

He should have known she would see through that. "I just...please, don't push right now, mom. I can't..."

"Okay, Derek," she comforted. "I won't push. But remember, it's okay to not be okay."

"Okay."

"And don't worry about this weekend. I'm disappointed that I won't get to see you and finally meet this girl you're so taken by, but it's okay, Derek. Get this all behind you, be there for your friend, and then we'll reschedule."

"Thanks."

"Are you home now?"

He sighed. "No. I got paged a few hours ago; repaired a ruptured secular aneurism. I just have to round on my patients, and then I can go home. I don't have anything scheduled today."

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah..." He couldn't wait to go home. He needed to see Meredith, to hold her, to kiss her, to press his nose into the crook of her neck and breathe in the smell that was uniquely her. He needed to be in the same room as her. He needed to be near her. He needed to remind himself that she was still there, that he had gained so much more than he had lost in the past year.

"Derek, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, mom."

"Fine, huh? Where did you pick that up from? You definitely don't sound fine to me."

"I'm just..." Exhausted. Worried. Stressed. Going out of my mind.

"Derek, I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I want you to listen to me anyway. It's like you said. These horrible, unexplainable, sudden things happen. They're a part of life. And you never really think it's going to happen to you until it does..."

Derek nodded along to himself, knowing she was speaking of her first husband, his father.

"...But you can't let it get to you. You can't spend your life looking around every corner, waiting for something to happen. You need to live in the now, Derek. I still miss your father, but I'm grateful for the memories that I have. Because I let myself live, and I wasn't waiting for the other shoe to drop." She paused for a moment to let that sink in. "I know you, Derek. I know what you're thinking right now. And I know that you've finally gotten your life back, that you're happy again. Don't let the fear of losing all that you've gained scare you away from living your new life. And don't let the fear push you into destroying your new life."

"I wouldn't-"

"I know you, Derek," she repeated. "And you tend to push people away when you're scared and hurt."

He opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. He could remember sitting alone in his room for over an hour the day of his father's funeral. He could remember watching his sisters huddle together during the funeral; but he hadn't made any move to join them. He could remember stopping for a drink on the way home so many times in New York after losing a patient; sitting alone at the bar as he nursed his single malt, before heading home and telling his wife nothing of his day. And he could remember packing up all that would fit in his car and driving across the country when he had found his wife in bed with his best friend.

"Be there for Meredith," she prompted. "But let her be there for you, too. That is what a relationship is about, Derek."

"Okay," he breathed.

"Good. I love you, Derek."

He sniffed suddenly. "I love you too, mom."

"And I'll see you soon."

"I'll let you know."

"Good."

"Bye, mom."

"Goodbye."

000

Meredith sighed and rested her forehead down on the table, taking comfort in the feeling of the cool wood against her skin. She was exhausted. She hadn't slept in three days, and the emotional overload was getting to her. Normally, she was good at swallowing her emotions; she had had an entire lifetime of experience with it, and her mother had been a master teacher. But now...Meredith was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She had changed in the past eight months, and now her emotions were approaching overwhelming.

She had depended on Derek's closeness for the hours he had spent by her side before he had been paged. She had lost count of the minutes and hours she had spent crying in his arms, the number of times he had held her or kissed her or whispered something comforting to her.

But he had been paged, and after an apologetic goodbye, he had left her alone with George and Alex. Cristina had shown up several hours later, having spent most of the night in the hospital with Burke. And when the sun had begun to rise, Alex and George had been forced to head into the hospital for their shifts. Meredith hated the waiting; waiting for Izzy to get up, waiting for Derek to get home, waiting for something to happen. Anything.

Cristina appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and ambled across the bare floor to sit up, on the counter across the room. She had just come down from her latest shift in the bathroom. No one had ever vocalized it, but somewhere in the past hours, they had worked out a system where one of them went to check on Izzy every half hour. But, so far, the blond had not begun to get up, off the floor. And so, they were waiting.

Eventually, Meredith regretfully lifted her head and went back to making sandwiches. She needed to be doing something. The sitting around and waiting and doing nothing was killing her.

"Why are we making sandwiches, again?" Cristina asked.

Meredith glanced up at her best friend and then back down. "It's what you do when someone dies, you cook," she said absently. She didn't actually know what to do when someone died; she had never experienced it first hand. Her mother had cut all familial ties before any relatives had had a chance to die in Meredith lifetime, and had taught her daughter not to form emotional attachments. Meredith had never had anyone so close to her die before, but cooking seemed like the right thing to do.

Cristina picked up a magazine, but paused with it open across her chest, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I know what to do when someone dies. I am a Jew. It's Shiva."

Meredith pursed her lips and halted her task. "Is it Shiva even if she's Catholic?" It felt good to be talking, regardless of the subject.

Cristina thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Well, Shiva is what I know how to do, so...yeah, it's Shiva. And if we're setting Shiva for Denny, then we should order in, because making sandwiches is not cooking."

"It's closer to cooking than ordering in," she countered.

Cristina glared at her.

"Come on, sandwiches are comfort food." She took a large bite to emphasize her point.

"What's wrong with you?"

Meredith swallowed hard, the bread in her mouth feeling like a lump of wet sand as it passed through her throat and oesophagus. "How can you be so...fine?"

"Excuse me?"

"Denny died. Burke got shot. Life can change in an instant. How can that not be getting to you?"

Her best friend shrugged. "Denny did die, but we did everything we could for him. He had his heparin, but he clotted anyway. There was no way to have saved him. And Burke got shot, but he's going to be fine." She paused, before continuing in an uncharacteristically supportive tone. "And Derek is fine, if that's what's on your mind."

Meredith squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, wishing she wasn't so emotional all of a sudden. "I just can't handle any more change right now," she admitted. "Too much is changing. Too much is happening, too fast."

"Talking about the family thing again?"

"It's not just that. It's that suddenly I'm realizing that I'm in love, I'm living with Derek, planning on moving out with him when I'm done my internship, planning a future with him, flying across the country to meet his family...and it's only been eight months."

"So?"

"Doesn't that seem fast to you?"

Cristina shrugged. "I'm living with Burke, and we haven't been together as long as you and McDreamy."

"It seems fast to me."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course." And she really did.

"Do you have doubts about being with him?"

"No."

"So, what's the problem?"

"I..."

"See, you don't even have an answer for me. Who cares if it takes eight weeks or eight months or eight years to get to your point if it still feels the same?"

The tension that had been plaguing Meredith's chest for days seemed to lessen with Cristina's words. "I guess you're right. I just wish it would all just slow down a little. I feel like I'm trying to catch my breath, but can't ever quite do it."

"Nothing changed between you recently," Cristina pointed out. "Okay, so you officially moved in together last month, but it was unofficial for months before that. And the man totally loves you. It's pathetic, really."

Meredith cracked a smile. "You really think so?"

Cristina grumbled. "Please don't make me do the thing."

Meredith had to bite back a smile. She was so grateful that Cristina was here with her, helping with Izzy. If Derek had been shot, Meredith doubted she would be able to leave his side at the hospital. "Fine." She sighed. "I think it's the official stuff that scares me. Meeting his family means something. And it...leads to other things..."

"Like marriage?"

"Yeah..."

"Has he asked you?"

She shook her head. "No. He knows I'm nowhere near ready for that. And he's fine waiting for now. But one day..." She trailed off and shook her head. "How about you and Burke?"

Cristina shrugged. "Haven't talked about it, haven't thought about it. I'm not the marrying type. I assume he's the same."

"So, you're just going to continue exactly as you are?"

She shrugged again. "I guess; haven't really thought about it."

Meredith sighed and laid her head back down on the table. "I wish I could just stop thinking. I'm so tired..."

"Okay, let's talk about something lighter."

Without actually lifting her head off the table, Meredith twisted to meet her best friend's eyes. "Like what?"

"Anything. Tell me something." It was the first time that Meredith could see that Cristina was struggling too.

With only slight hesitation, Meredith lifted her head, a hint of a smile playing across her lips. "I, uh, lost my panties, last night..."

000

Cristina was upstairs, probably lying on the bathroom floor beside Izzy, when the doorbell rang. Meredith sighed and picked herself off the kitchen chair to head for the front hall. It was early afternoon, and the last remnants of her energy levels were draining by the hour. Izzy still hadn't picked herself up, off the floor. Derek hadn't come home yet, meaning, Meredith assumed, he had been pulled into an emergency surgery without a chance to call her first. And George and Alex were still working, leaving Meredith and Cristina as the only two to hold down the fort.

Cristina was being uncharacteristically helpful and supportive, and Meredith was grateful for it. She knew her best friend would always come through for them when she needed to. But she also knew that Burke was lying in a hospital bed and Cristina would need to leave eventually.

When Meredith pulled open the solid wooden door, she was surprised to recognize Callie's face peering out over twin bags of groceries. With memories of being caught by the older surgeon the previous evening at the front of her mind, Meredith cautiously opened the glass door.

"I brought food," Callie offered.

Meredith blinked, her mental processing speed lagging behind her auditory system. "Uh... George isn't here..."

"I know." She shook her head. "He's in a quarantine because of a thing... And I was off duty and worried about him and going crazy and thinking about Izzy, so I brought food."

Food was the first word Meredith processed fully. "For the Shiva."

Callie furrowed her brow, and stuttered slightly. "Are you going to let me in?"

Meredith sputtered as she stepped out of the way. "Yeah. Yeah, come in. Sorry, I'm..." She shook her head. "I'm exhausted."

Callie nodded in understanding and stepped into the front hall, sending Meredith a second glance. "And don't worry; I'm not going to mention it...the sex and the exam room...I'm not that girl."

Meredith felt her cheeks heat ever so slightly. "Thanks, Callie. I just...thanks. We've never done that before."

Callie regarded her for a long moment before nodding. "Okay."

She shook her head, and carefully took one the grocery bags. "No, I mean it. We've never even had sex in the hospital before, ever. I swear. Last night was just a...a thing. A new thing. Unplanned..."

"You're not seriously telling me you two have never used an on-call room?" Callie asked as she followed Meredith into the kitchen. "That's like a right of passage in a hospital..."

Meredith shook her head. "Never." She set her bag down on the table.

Callie followed suit. "How, I mean if you don't mind me asking, but how did you two first get together then?"

Meredith was taken aback. She had assumed her and Derek's first meeting was general knowledge. "Oh, we didn't even meet at the hospital. We met at Joe's...before either of us started. And we...didn't exactly talk about work..." She trailed off. "Wait, did you say quarantine?"

Callie's eyes widened, and it was the first time Meredith realized the older surgeon was trembling ever so slightly. "Yeah, I did. There was a couple with severe flu symptoms in a car accident. Turns out they had been in contact with the plague."

"Oh...Callie, I'm sorry. Do they know anything yet?"

"They're still running labs. I'm surprised no one called you."

"Why would someone call me? I mean, George is my roommate, but..." She trailed off as she met Callie's eyes, and she just knew. "Oh. Crap..."

Callie nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you didn't know."

She felt her heart race. "Are they... I mean...are they...sick?"

"No, not as far as I've heard, at least."

Meredith nodded, blinking furiously as tears stung the backs of her eyes. Nothing more could change. Derek couldn't get sick. She needed him. He needed to be okay.

"Hey." Callie reached out and clutched to Meredith's upper arm. "Even if they do get sick, we'll have caught it super early. They'll be fine."

Meredith nodded again, thankful for the support. "I can't lose him," she whispered. She hadn't spent a lot of time talking with Callie before. And she wasn't one to share her feelings on a normal day, but she was completely drained, physically and emotionally. Denny had died. Izzy was crushed. Burke had been shot. Cristina was distracted. Alex and George weren't there. And Derek was the only thing keeping her going, just the thought of him being home soon. But now... "He said he'd be here. He said he'd always be here..."

"He will be." Callie squeezed her arm reassuringly before releasing her. "They'll both be fine."

Meredith met her eyes, recognizing worry that mirrored her own. "Okay. Okay..."

Soft footsteps entered the kitchen, revealing a surprised Cristina. She glanced questioningly between Meredith and Callie, taking in their sombre mood. "Okay, what did I miss?"

000

"I don't know what to say to you..." Meredith whispered, lying on the floor beside her roommate. She had long since given up trying to get Izzy off the floor. But every time she lay down beside her, her heart went out to the broken woman. She just didn't know what to do or say to make it any better. If it had been Derek who had died, and Meredith who was on the floor, she doubted there would be anything anyone could say or do to make it any better.

"I don't know what to say to me either," Izzy responded, her tone flat and low. At least she was speaking now. Only a handful of words had escaped her lips after she had laid herself down so many hours before. "When Dylan died...when the bomb went off...how did you feel?"

Meredith sighed, the memory of that horrible day only a little more than a month before rushing back. "It's not the same. We weren't...he wasn't..." Like Derek and I. If it had been Derek, she was pretty sure she would still be on the bathroom floor, unable to function. She forced her thoughts away from that area. Derek would be fine.

Izzy ploughed on. "But...when he died, did you feel...?"

"What?"

"Like you were moving in slow motion?"

Meredith breathed. "No. He was there, and then he wasn't; like I blinked and he was gone..."

Izzy shuddered. "I feel like I'm moving in slow motion. Like I'm moving in slow motion and everything around me is moving so fast, and I just want to go back to when things were normal..."

Meredith wasn't touchy-feely. She had been raised to avoid as much physical contact as possible. And yet, right now, all she wanted to do was pull her roommate into a tight hug and tell her everything would be okay. But everything was not okay. Denny was dead. And this was the most Izzy had spoken to her in a day, so she had to let her keep going, even if it was hard to hear.

"When I wasn't poor Izzy," she continued, "Laying on the floor in her prom dress, with her... Her dead fiancé..." If it were possible, Izzy's complexion paled further. "But I am," she whispered, "So, I can't. And I'm just stuck. And there's all this pressure, because everyone is hovering around me, waiting for me to do something, or say something, or flip out, or yell, or cry some more. And I'm happy to play my part. I'm happy to say the lines and do whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing if it will make everyone feel more comfortable. But I don't... I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be this person. I don't... I don't know who this person is..."

"Izzy..." Meredith was overwhelmed with empathy for her roommate, unable to process or understand it.

"How did this happen? How did we end up here? Why am I alone? Where's Denny?"

Blinking back tears she hadn't realized to be pooling behind her eyes, Meredith reached out for Izzy's hand and addressed the only question she could begin to answer. "You are not alone, Iz," she told her firmly, grateful when her roommate squeezed tightly back, clutching to her like a lifeline. "And we're not trying to pressure you. We're not waiting for you to do anything. We're just hovering because we're worried...because we're your family, Iz. We love you. And we're not expecting you to do anything. You can stay on the floor as long as you need, and when you're ready, we'll be here for you. You are not alone," she repeated.

Izzy nodded, the expression in her eyes still heartbreaking. "Thank-you."

000

It was dark out when Derek left George in the front hall with Callie, shaking his head at the younger man's inability to say those three special words, as he searched out his own girlfriend. It had been a long, hard day. Derek had expected to be home hours earlier. And, although he had put on a calm face for George, he had been worried when the quarantine had stretched hours and hours into the day and evening.

The kitchen door was still swinging on its hinges from Callie's rushed exit. Derek caught it on a forward swing and pushed into the quiet room. His chest caught when he spotted Meredith's deflated form by the sink, washing up the dishes. He could tell by the way she held herself that she had been on her feet for far too long. Her rigid, hunched back and lowered head told him she was exhausted.

Padding carefully across the nearly silent room, he came up behind her, not pausing for a moment to wrap his arms around her small frame, pulling her back into his chest and burying his nose in her hair.

Her breath caught and damp hands left the sink to clutch onto his. "Derek..." She murmured.

He tightened his hold, stretching his arms as far around her waist as he could, trying to mould his body to hers. "I missed you," he whispered.

And suddenly she was crying. Gut wrenching sobs escaped her lips as her chest heaved within his arms. She turned in his embrace, her hands reaching over his shoulders to hook behind his neck so tight that he thought she may never let go.

Re-closing his arms around her in their new position, Derek buried his face against her shoulder and promised himself he would never let her go, that he would never push her away. He loved her. He needed her. He couldn't live without her.

"I thought...I thought..." She stammered through her tears, lifting her head away from him to meet his eyes.

"Hey, hey," he soothed, lifting his hands to cup her face, his thumbs tenderly brushing tears off her cheeks. "It was just a precaution. I'm fine."

"You're fine," she repeated, her chest hitching.

"I'm fine," he echoed.

She opened her mouth, but the only thing that came out was a muffled sob. New tears streamed from her eyes, faster than he could keep up with using his thumbs.

"I'm okay. We're okay," he told her quietly, his hand finding the back of her head and carefully pulling her face to the crook of his neck. "I love you so much."

Her breathing deepened dramatically, bordering on out-of-control. "Derek..." She sputtered. "Too much... I can't... I can't... I...can't..."

"You don't have to," he soothed, not even beginning to care about what the end of the sentence was. All he cared about was calming her down. "I'm here, Mer. I'm here."

She clutched wildly to him, her fingers turning white over the fistfuls of fabric in their clutches, and sank down against him as her legs began to give under the strain of her body. "Derek..." She cried.

Moving his hands to the sides of her waist, Derek lifted her to perch on the counter, before wrapping his arms around her small frame again and just holding her. "It's okay," he murmured into her ear. "It's going to be okay."

Her breathing evened ever so slightly as she hooked her legs around him, pulling him close. Their position mirrored that of the exam room the previous evening so much. But things were so very different now.

It was several minutes before the sobs began to dissipate, turning gradually into painful gasps, and then smaller and smaller hiccups. Her arms and legs remained around him, but her grip loosened. She was clutching to him for comfort now, not out of desperation. "It's not okay," she whispered finally.

"Hmm?" He splayed his hand across her back and ran it up and down her spine, keeping her calm.

"It's not okay," she repeated. "Denny died."

"I know..."

"Izzy's still on the floor. She's...she's...so broken..."

"I'm sorry." He had hoped they would have coaxed the blond off the floor, into different clothes and into bed by now.

"And she quit," Meredith continued, words flowing from her lips like they were escaping from a dam that had given way under millions of tons of water. And they probably were; she had probably been bottling all of this up, all day. She tended to do that, he knew. And he was good at reading her, at knowing when she was withholding. And he was good at listening when he convinced her to spill. But he hadn't been around today. He hadn't been around when she had needed him so much. "She's not coming back to the hospital. And she lost Denny. And Burke...Burke got shot."

"I know." He sighed and held her closer. She had needed him today. And he had needed her. too. His mother had been right when he had spoken to her that morning. He needed to be there for Meredith, but he needed comfort and support from her, too. Derek wasn't good at accepting help, and he was even worse at asking for it. But maybe, with Meredith, he could learn to do it. The feeling of her small hands clutching so tightly to him, and her arms wrapped around his neck, felt good, despite the horror of the past few days. It felt good despite the situation. The needed each other.

"And he may never operate again. And Cristina had to go back to be with him, because he's all alone. And the Chief made my dad go away..."

"Oh, Mer..."

"And you...you..."

"I'm fine, Mer."

She shook her head. "No. No. You spent all day in quarantine. You and George..."

"We're fine-"

"No!" She cried. "No. I can't... I...nothing else can change. I can't lose you, Derek. I can't-"

"Meredith!" He called firmly, breathing in relief when he finally got her attention. She blinked at him, but made no attempt to speak. Brushing his fingers across her face, he cleared the hair from her eyes so he could meet them evenly. "I am fine," he repeated once more. "George is fine. We were protected by masks and gloves in a very sterile area. And they kept us in quarantine as a precaution. And now we're out, because we're fine." He paused for a moment to let the words sink in. "And we're going to stay fine, okay?"

She swallowed, and breathing hard in his arms, nodded.

He offered her a small smile and pressed his lips against her nose. "Okay."

Still breathing hard as the adrenaline began to wear off, she bowed her head and leaned her forehead against his chin, trembling slightly. "I can't lose you," she whispered into his neck.

He pressed his hands against her back. "You won't," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

"Good."

"Good," he echoed.

They fell into a comfortable silence for several minutes as Meredith's breathing slowly came back down to normal and her body stopped shaking.

"I love you, Derek," she finally whispered.

"I love you too, Meredith." He allowed himself a small smile, revelling in her closeness. Despite the past three days, despite the pain and the loss and the anguish, Derek found he could close his eyes and breathe her in and, even if it was just for a moment, everything would be okay. He had found that thing so many people spend their lives searching for. He had found her. "I've loved you forever," he murmured into her hair.

She lifted her head away from his and offered him a brave smile. "I'm sorry..."

He tilted his head. "For what?"

Her eyes flickered, but in the end, stayed on his. "I've never done that before...you know, the whole breaking down thing..."

The corners of his lips twitched before he leaned in and kissed her, soft and sweet. "You're allowed to not be strong some of the time, Mer."

"I know. But that was...very not strong. With crying. Lots of crying." She sighed and pulled at the damp fabric along his shoulder. "I even left a freaking puddle on you shirt."

Derek allowed himself a short laugh. "Trust me, Mer, that's far from a worry in my mind."

"Really?"

He smiled. "Absolutely."

"Thank-you, Derek, for..." She trailed off.

He kissed her again. "That's what I'm here for."

She was smiling softly when he pulled away, her eyes damp, but no longer shedding tears. She tilted her head, a habit he knew she had picked up from him, and her smile dropped a level in intensity as she narrowed her eyes. "You look... Are you okay?"

He wanted to nod and smile and kiss her breathless, and tell her everything was fine. He was fine. She was fine. They were fine. But he wasn't fine. His breathing hitched every so slightly. And then it hitched again. His fingers closed around the soft material of her shirt and he pressed his forehead against hers. "I will be," he mumbled truthfully.

Her arms closed around his neck again, but this time for him, and not for her. "But you're not now?"

He sighed against her. "I'm just..." He lifted his forehead away several inches so he could meet her eyes. "It's nothing that you don't know about; nothing you're not going through as well."

She smiled sadly, her hand brushing up his cheek reassuringly. "I didn't realize..."

His brow furrowed as he regarded her. "What?"

"That you were scared too," she completed. "You're always so...strong."

I'm not scared was what he wanted to say. It was on the tip of his tongue. He wanted her to think he was strong. But...his mother's words echoed in the back of his brain and he nodded. Meredith was the one person in the world he never wanted to be distant from. "I am...scared," he admitted. "It scares me that I could lose you."

She sniffed and tightened her grasp on him. Her expressive eyes told him everything he needed to know. She recognized it was hard for him to be afraid. "It's okay to be scared, Derek," she told him quietly. And he believed her. A weight lifted off his shoulders at the honest tone in her voice; at the way her eyes may be sympathetic, but never lost the quality they always had when she looked at him. The special quality that was mixed with respect, compassion, love and admiration. He was still strong to her, was still the man she had fallen in love with. She still loved him just as much. "It's okay to not be strong all of the time," she said, repeating his earlier words.

With a tight throat, he nodded. "Thank-you."

Her fingers weaved through his hair and she pressed her lips against his.

He lost himself in her, revelling in the closeness and the comfort she offered.

"I'm so glad you're home," she mumbled into his chest when their lips broke apart.

"Me too, Mer," he whispered back. "Me too."

AN: He he he...I couldn't resist the call out to What I'm Here For. BTW, I've added chapter titles to most of the chapters, tagging them with the corresponding episodes or major events. It was taking me so long to find things when I went looking back to check things that I finally gave in.

So, that's my version of the season three premiere. I am so looking forward to writing season three now, as it will be such a different challenge than season two. They were apart in the real season two, and so I had to change some big plot lines. But they were together for most of season three, and so were 'together' for so many of the major plots. And yet, this version will be so much different...

Thanks for reading!