123. Chapter 123

AN: Sorry for the unexpected delay. My dad ended up in the hospital (again) for almost two weeks. He's doing okay now, but I wasn't able to get any writing done hanging out at the hospital. This chapter was almost finished before all this happened. It was kind of nice to be able to read it after such a delay in writing it; it allowed me to see it a little differently and make a few tweaks that were for the better. The next chapter (which will be Christmas Day) is in the works and will be up long before real-life Christmas (Can I just say that I cannot believe it's already December?)

One more thing: As the story is quickly approaching the end of Season 4, I'm trying to make decisions as to what of Season 5 to include and exactly where is the plot of season 5 to end it. I welcome any suggestions/feedback at this time and will do my best to include what you want to read.

Thanks for reading!

Derek jolted as the door to his office flung open. It hit the wall loudly and then shook on its hinges. He looked up to see his wife standing in the doorway, scowling darkly. "Are you ready to go home?" She practically snapped.

He stared at her for a moment, feeling his heartbeat slow back down to normal after the shock of her dramatic entrance, before glancing at the time. He hadn't expected her for another twenty minutes, at least.

"Uh, sure," he said carefully, looking back to Meredith, who was still scowling. She was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved top, her coat clutched in a ball under her arm. Her hair was pulled haphazardly into a ponytail and her eyes were red, making her look harried. He stood. "I didn't expect you this soon." It had become routine for Meredith to meet him in his office when she was finished with her sessions with Dr. Wyatt. He would finish with his patients and then go to his office to work on paperwork. She would get changed first and then meet him there. Sometimes they would talk through her session in his office, and sometimes, especially when she'd had a tough session, they'd wait and talk it through at home.

After several weeks of therapy, he was starting to understand better why she needed this. She had discussed each session with him, and eagerly accepted support and encouragement every time she needed it along the way. He had encouraged her to allow Wyatt to ask questions about her past. He had held her for an hour while she cried after struggling to tell Wyatt about just the basics of her childhood. He had laughed with her as she told him about trying to explain to Wyatt how she had called his mother while high on morphine when she had been suffering from appendicitis. He'd patiently listened to her rant when she was frustrated with the lack of progress.

This, however, was new. She'd never been angry before. She'd ranted in that rambling Meredith way that he couldn't help but find adorable, but she'd never looked like this.

"I didn't expect to be done this soon, either," she said flatly, not offering any more information.

He hesitated before continuing with, "Is there a reason-"

"I fired my shrink," she snapped, cutting him off. "I'm done with therapy. It's not helping."

Derek wasn't sure he agreed with her last statement, but he knew now was not the time to argue. She needed to calm down before she could discuss this. He reached for his coat. "Okay," he said simply.

"Okay?" She echoed. "That's all you have to say?"

He sighed, trying not to react to her mood. "What do you want me to say?"

"You just don't want to gloat that you were right. I never should have done this in the first place."

"I never said that."

She scoffed. "You've been against this whole thing from the start. You never wanted me getting therapy. Well, guess what? You get what you want. I'm not going anymore."

He didn't want to have this conversation here, but he wasn't about to let her twist his feelings and reaction into this. "Don't you put words in my mouth," he snapped, catching her by surprise. Her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but she didn't. Taking the opportunity, he walked up to her and placed one hand on each shoulder. "If you want to stop therapy, that's your decision. Just like it was your decision to start it. And I will support that decision, too. So don't you dare tell me I've been against this for a moment." The words came out harsher than he had expected, and clearly harsher than she had expected as well, as evidenced by the film of tears developing in her eyes. He sighed, and every ounce of frustration fell away. Despite her hesitance to tell Wyatt much about her past, she was slowly opening herself up to the therapist. He had noticed that even though she was more stubborn than usual, she was also more vulnerable. "Mer..."

She inhaled a shaky breath as she successfully fought off tears. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, looking down, all of the previous anger and tension gone from her body.

He shifted his hands closer to her neck and rubbed her collar bones with his thumbs. He remembered how much she had struggled to tell him about her childhood, especially in the beginning. It had been months before he'd been able to broach the subject and much longer before she had divulged the worst parts. He remembered her near-hyperventilation when she had told him about Ellis's suicide attempt. He also remembered how profound an effect just one short comment from her mother had had on her. No more than ordinary, Ellis had called her. Meredith had been crushed.

"You can do anything," he told her. "You're the strongest person I know." He stepped closer and pressed a kiss to the top of her downturned head.

"It's not helping. It's been a month and I'm not better."

"Maybe you're not where you want to be, where you think you should be, but you are improving." He'd seen signs over the past month of sessions. She may be more emotional and more vulnerable now that she had opened herself up to her past, but she also smiled more. And smiled brighter. She was more confident and she talked about the future a lot more and a lot more easily. He wasn't sure if the change was due to the therapy or simply due to the knowledge that she was in therapy to change herself for the better. From her synopsis of each session, he suspected it was the latter. She'd made a decision by herself and for herself. She was taking her life into her own hands.

It was about control.

He'd come to this realization slowly since she had first told him about her therapy. She didn't like to feel out of control, and the behaviour she couldn't explain happened in times when she would likely feel the most out of control, like a trigger.

Growing up, she would have been overwhelmed with the feeling of her life being controlled by people who didn't have her best interest at heart. Ellis and Thatcher had made decisions that had affected her without actually considering her needs. They'd failed at being her parents, her protectors and her advocates. They'd abandoned her, neglected her, scared her and hurt her, and Meredith had been a defenceless child. Then after she'd grown up, her mother had gotten sick, which had been out of her control. She'd gone to medical school because that's what she thought Ellis wanted. And every time something bad had happened in the last year and a half that she'd reacted unfavourably to, it had also been out of her control; she couldn't save Susan, she couldn't do anything to stop Burke from leaving, she couldn't make Thatcher want her.

But now, she was fighting to take control of the behaviour she didn't understand. The act of seeking help alone had empowered her.

"I am?" She asked quietly, looking up to meet his eyes.

He offered her an encouraging smile.

"Yes. You seem more determined. More confident. More in control," he added. He hadn't explained his theory to his wife, because he wanted her to be able to figure it out on her own, but that didn't mean he couldn't drop a hint or two.

She smiled at the last comment. "I've felt more in control. I thought I was improving, but..." She huffed. "I don't understand how this is helping anymore. Why does she have to know every single thing about me? She knows what the problem is; shouldn't she be helping me fix it instead of dragging it out?"

Derek had his own theory about this as well. She had complained several times that Wyatt was focusing on the wrong things; was asking for more information instead of proffering a plan to fix things. He suspected Meredith's incredibly strong determination to not talk about certain things was much more telling to Dr. Wyatt than Meredith realized. And was probably very important to her eventual recovery. Meredith had only provided a skeleton explanation of her childhood to the therapist and had baulked at providing additional details. He was certain for Wyatt to fully understand the behaviour, and to then help Meredith control it, she would need to know the things Meredith didn't want to share.

"I'm sure she has her reasons," he said evenly, not wanting to end the conversation, but wanting to pause it so they could pick it up later. His office at the end of a long week was not the right place to have this conversation. She needed a push from him, and he was pretty sure that she was looking for one, but he knew her enough to know she needed to be in the right frame of mind to accept it. And that wasn't right now.

With a sigh, she leaned into him, wrapping the arm that wasn't holding her coat around his middle.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Despite his earlier anxieties about her therapy, he understood now how needless they had been. He still felt important. He still felt like her husband. She still needed him. And he understood now that she was not only doing this for her, but also for them. "Let's go out for dinner," he suggested.

She looked up to meet his eyes, clearly contemplating the merits of his suggestion.

"Come on," he encouraged, "Wine, steak and carbs in a basket? How can you say no to that?"

A smile fluttered onto her lips and she nodded. "Okay."

He ducked his head to kiss her softly. "Okay."

An hour later, Derek smiled across the table at his much calmer wife as she chattered on happily about her morning surgery. The tension had disappeared from her shoulders and the darkness from her eyes. She had relaxed noticeably the moment they left the hospital together.

He chuckled when she reached for her third roll of bread from the basket their waiter had left to tide them over while they waited for their entrées. The restaurant was busy; they had had to wait for twenty minutes for a table. With a little over a week to go until Christmas, a mass of people were taking a break from their shopping to have dinner.

Meredith shot him a playfully glare, daring him to mention her appetite.

He simply smiled back and said nothing.

"I'm glad we got our shopping done early," she commented. "I hate shopping on a normal day, let alone when the stores are overrun with people."

He nodded his agreement. With his family being across the country, he had to shop early so he could have everything wrapped and shipped before the holiday. She had let him convince her to tag along several times this year, and even had her help with the wrapping. And he had smiled every time he had written from Uncle Derek & Aunt Meredith on a tag or card.

A year earlier, he had been as certain as he could about a future with the amazing new woman in his life, but it had only been months at that point. It was different now. Better. Permanent. She was his family now. Presents to the Shepherds were from them now.

She smiled softly at him before releasing a long sigh. "I'm sorry I was a basket case earlier."

He smiled back and offered her a shrug. "That's okay."

She raised an eyebrow. "You weren't exactly supposed to agree with that..."

Derek chuckled. "You make a cute basket case."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm glad I can amuse you."

"Me too," he quipped.

She pretended to huff at his comment, but her eyes softened as they met his.

"What?" He urged.

"Thanks," she said quietly. "This was a really nice idea, going out for dinner."

He nodded. "We should do this more often now that we have some more time." With their hectic schedules, they had rarely had the time or energy to do much together outside the hospital, but now that they had settled into their new home and Meredith's interns were much more independent, suddenly they found themselves with the odd evening together.

"We'd have a lot more time if I wasn't crazy," she said flatly.

Derek sighed. "You're not crazy," he assured. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"There's a lot wrong with me," she countered, looking down at the table. Her fingers picked nervously at the folded napkin set before her.

He reached across the table to lay his hand over hers. "There's nothing wrong with you," he repeated. "You've been through more than most people can imagine, and you're looking for help now. That makes you strong. I know what you're trying to do isn't easy, Mer, but I'm proud of you for doing it."

She glanced up at him, her eyes showing more vulnerability then he'd seen from her in some time. "Do you really think that?"

"That you're strong? Absolutely."

"I don't always feel strong.

He squeezed her hand. "I know you don't. But you are." He offered her the best smile he could.

She smiled back for several moments before biting down on her lower lip.

He cocked his head. "What?"

Her eyes flickered, but stayed on his gaze. "Do you ever feel...not strong?"

Despite his own personal growth over the past year, Derek had to fight against the fleeting urge to deny admitting to it. But his wife needed him to be open. "Yeah," he admitted, "I do. A lot, actually."

"Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel less like a basket case?"

He chuckled. "I'm not just saying it. Don't you remember how much of a basket case I was after your accident?" He could still acutely remember the utter desperation that had gripped his heart and mind for weeks after he'd almost lost her, but still couldn't believe that had led to him basically demanding she marry him on the spot.

"That was different."

He shrugged. "Depends how you see it, I guess. And it was just one example." He paused before admitting, "I struggle sometimes. I worry I'm not enough."

"Not enough for what?"

"Not enough for my patients. Not enough for my family." He met her gaze, "Not enough for you."

"That is not true," she said immediately. "You are more than enough for me."

He squeezed her hand again, amazed at how supportive she was of him even though they were talking about her. "I know you feel that way, and most of the time I believe you, but I still have my moments." He offered her a smile. "Just like I know that you know that in my eyes you're the most amazing person in the world, but you sometimes have moments."

She returned his smile, and her strength in that moment tugged at his heart.

"It's more than just moments for me," she whispered, "Especially now."

"You've opened yourself up," he acknowledged.

"I don't like it," she said flatly.

"I know." He chuckled at her tenacity.

She sighed and turned her hand over underneath his so she could grip tightly to it. "I want to be better. It's been a month."

He nodded, and briefly debated verbalizing what was on his mind before actually doing so. She was much more open to suggestion now than she had been earlier in his office, and she'd lost the defeated look in her eyes. It was time to set up for the push. "It has been a month," he agreed, "But in comparison to how long it took for you to develop the behaviour that's not actually that long."

A film of moisture appeared on her eyes, but she didn't look away. Her hand gripped tighter to his. "Do you think it's going to take years to fix?"

He shook his head. "No, I really don't."

She inhaled a shaky breath, but still didn't look away.

His heart tugged again at her strength. "Meredith," he said softly, just saying her name for the sake of saying it. He loved saying her name.

Her eyes closed in an extended blink, as if relishing the sound of her name on his lips.

"Meredith," he said again, just because. "You're amazing. Extraordinary." He knew how important that word was to her. "Think of how much you've overcome. You're a surgeon and one of the best residents in a top rated hospital. You have so much compassion for other people. You've been there for me every time I've needed you." He took a breath as he gave her a moment to absorb his words. "And don't fall into the trap of thinking you're not strong and capable. Yes, you've got some...behaviours that you want to change. That's all. The behaviour doesn't stop you from being the best resident in the hospital. It doesn't stop you from showing compassion to other people." He squeezed her hand. "And it doesn't stop you from being my wife."

She smiled at that.

"Okay? You take as long as you need for your therapy, but don't think that means your life – our life – is on hold. You can go to therapy and still be fighting for every surgery you can get at work. And you can still go to therapy while we build a life together. Don't think it stops you from having a life, or being incapable of having a life, because it doesn't."

Her smile grew and the sheen of tears in her eyes all but disappeared. She sat up a little straighter. Her chest rose and fell evenly as took a steady breath.

Derek felt his heart swell with pride as he watched her reaction to his words, knowing he'd gotten through to her. She'd heard him and his words had made her feel good about herself.

"You're right," she said at last. "I'm still me. I'm just not the me I want to be."

"You will be," he promised, before smiling warmly at her, "Just remember that I love the you that you are. I don't need you to change."

"I know." She squeezed his hand. "But I need to change for me."

He squeezed her hand back. "I know."

And it was that simple. They understood each other. She knew he didn't need her to change, and he knew she needed to change for her. It hadn't been an easy point to get to, but here they were.

Their waiter appeared beside the table with their dinner orders before either could say anything further. Derek released her hand as the waiter set the plates down, looking frazzled as he apologized for the delay, blaming it on the influx of customers and the time of year.

"It's no problem," Derek assured. The waiter hurried away and Derek looked down at his plate. He frowned at the steak before looking across the table to Meredith's plate. She mirrored his expression, having looked up from the chicken and vegetable before her, and then they laughed together. "I think this is yours," he said as he picked up the plate before him and offered it to her.

"And I think this is yours," she echoed, accepting the plate as she passed him his.

Despite the mix-up, the food was delicious. Meredith was halfway through her steak when she sighed and looked up to meet his eyes. She had fallen silent after the food arrived, and he had let her, knowing she needed to process their conversation. She had to internalize her thoughts before she could make sense of them out loud.

"I don't need therapy to have the life I'm living," she said, as if thinking out loud.

He nodded his agreement, glad he had made her see it.

"But I want to change some things so I can live...more fully."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"And you're right. It can take however long it takes," she paused, "But I really don't want it to take forever."

"I know."

She sighed. "I'm already going twice a week. I don't want to be there more."

"I don't think it's so much about the amount of time."

"What do you think would help?" She asked, and though she asked the question lightly, he knew what kind of weight it held. She was asking for the push he knew she was looking for earlier. She was asking for his opinion, was asking for him to be her partner. The level of trust he saw in her gaze almost took his breath away.

"I think, from what you've told me, that Wyatt knows what she's doing."

Meredith nodded her agreement.

"So, if she keeps asking the same questions, they're probably important questions."

She sighed. "I knew you were going to say that."

He offered her a wry smile. "I know you don't want to talk about your childhood with her, but I think..." He trailed off for a moment, not wanting to use the wrong words. Too demanding and she'd shy away, too soft and she'd not get the push she wanted. "I think it could really help."

"I don't like talking about my mom and what she did."

"I know."

"It was so long ago. It shouldn't matter now."

He paused before pushing a little bit harder. "Exactly. It shouldn't matter now. But it does, doesn't it?"

She clearly wanted to say no to his question, but couldn't. Instead, she sighed and closed her eyes.

"What your mother did was awful. I can't even imagine how you must have felt." While they had both watched their parents bleed, his father hadn't had any choice in the matter. Ellis had. That was the point.

"I don't know how to talk about it," she admitted.

Derek may not be able to imagine how she felt during Ellis's suicide attempt, but he definitely understood why she didn't want to talk about it. He rarely talked about his father.

He reached across the table and tapped his fingers until the sound drew her to open her eyes. She quickly placed her hand in his and squeezed tightly. "I know you don't know how to talk about it. I know it's hard."

She sniffed, but her eyes remained dry. "You're the only person I've ever told."

He'd suspected that might be the case, but he hadn't known for sure. It was both gratifying and intimidating that she trusted him, and only him, that much. "It wasn't that bad telling me, was it?"

She raised an eyebrow.

He released a laughing breath. "I meant after. I know that telling me was hard. But it was one conversation. Things didn't change after, right? Nothing bad happened because you told me."

She nodded.

"Do you think something bad will happen if you tell Wyatt?"

Meredith closed her eyes again, but didn't pull her hand away. He gave her time to think about his question. This was probably about control, too. Maybe keeping it a secret meant she could pretend it didn't happen. Maybe Ellis still had some sort of hold on her.

After several moments, she opened her eyes. "I guess I could tell her."

"When you're ready," he said, both agreeing to her statement and ensuring she knew she had control over the decision.

She sighed. "I wish I was normal."

He squeezed her hand. "I don't. Because then you wouldn't be you."

She smiled and squeezed his hand back. "I don't know how I'd be able to do this without you."

"You'll never have to find out," he promised.

Meredith paced back and forth down the hall, passing Wyatt's office with every lap. Her session had been scheduled to begin almost half an hour earlier, but she hadn't brought herself to knock and go in yet. She'd been pacing since before her session was even scheduled to begin.

It was her last scheduled session before Christmas, which was only two days away, and it was so tempting to just go in and pretend like everything was fine. Or to just not go in at all. It was tempting to just leave this conversation until after the holiday, or even after the new year started.

She wanted desperately to not need to do this. She wanted what her mother did to not matter. But Derek's words kept repeating in her head. It shouldn't matter now. But it does, doesn't it?

It did matter. She'd come to accept this in the days since that conversation with her husband. It mattered and it affected her and it limited her. It was something she kept hidden so deep inside herself that she liked to pretend it hadn't happened. But it had happened. She'd never been able to completely forget about it, regardless of her avoidance and her refusal to speak of it.

It happened and it mattered.

That she'd told Derek still surprised her at times. It wasn't something she'd ever planned on telling him, but she'd been caught at an all time weak moment. Her mother had called her ordinary. Her mother had been lucid and called her ordinary, after five years of hard work and progress on Meredith's part. She'd faced her mother as a Dartmouth medical school graduate and Seattle Grace surgical resident. And she'd still been ordinary. She'd still not been enough to measure up to her mother and her mother's expectations.

She wondered briefly if she would have told Derek eventually anyway, and was surprised to find herself glad he knew and hopeful that she would have told him anyway. He was right. Nothing had changed between them after he knew. He'd still looked at her in that way. He'd still loved her. He'd still wanted her.

He didn't look at her like she was ordinary.

And that was all she needed. He loved her no matter what. She had his support no matter what. She'd never be ordinary in his eyes.

She could tell Wyatt and her world wouldn't fall apart.

With a deep breath, Meredith steeled herself for what was to come and knocked on Wyatt's door.

"You're late," Wyatt chastised the moment she pulled open the door.

"My mother tried to kill herself when I was a kid," was Meredith's response, taking both psychiatrist and patient by surprise. She'd meant to say it, but not like this, standing in an open doorway, thirty minutes late to her session and facing an annoyed therapist.

Meredith wrapped her arms around her middle, protective. Her eyes burned, but she refused to let her weakness show through. Her feet itched to run away, but she refused to let them. She was going to fix this.

It happened and it mattered, but she was determined to make it stop mattering.

"Come in and sit," Wyatt said quietly, urging Meredith out of the hallway and into the familiar room.

Meredith padded across the floor to the couch and sat. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She let her eyes drift over to the fish tank.

"Meredith," Wyatt said quietly, comfortingly, after several moments of silence. There wasn't an ounce of her initial frustration left in her voice, as if she understood Meredith had only been late because she had been building herself up to do this. She gave Meredith a chance to respond, and when she didn't, she continued. "Thank you for feeling comfortable sharing that with me." Again, she gave Meredith the opportunity to respond before continuing. "How about we review what we were talking about last week?" She offered.

"No." Meredith knew what she was doing. It was a trick Wyatt had used regularly; one Meredith had recognized and appreciated right from the beginning. But Meredith didn't want it now. She didn't need to be slowly eased into talking by starting with something easier. She just wanted to get this over with. She took a deep breath and shifted her eyes back to Wyatt. "This is the kind of thing you need to know, right?"

Wyatt nodded. "Yes."

"Then let's just get it over with." She took another deep breath. Her eyes stung, but she ignored it. "My mother tried to kill herself when I was five because the love of her life left her."

"Your father?"

She shook her head. "Why my mother and father got married and had a child, I don't know the answer to. All I know is that they weren't happy. My mother had an affair with a colleague for the entirety of her residency. They were both married, but my mother really loved him. When their residencies were over, they decided to each get divorced and be together for real. My mother followed through, but he didn't. He broke up with her at the park when I was five. My mother had taken me there to ride the carousel. I watched the whole thing and afterwards she forgot to come and get me. I was stuck on the carousel for a long time. When the carousel people finally realized, they got me off. She practically dragged me back to the car and she was never the same after that."

"I'm sorry that had to happen to you, Meredith-"

Meredith cut her off by holding up her hand. "Stop. Just...let me talk. You need to know all of this, and it took me a long time to convince myself to tell you. I don't want to stop along the way to talk about my feelings."

"Okay."

"I don't know how much time passed after that. A few weeks, maybe. Then one day she brought a scalpel home from work. I was playing on the floor in the kitchen."

"You were there?"

Eyes still trained on the fish tank, Meredith nodded. "Yes, I was there." She fell silent.

"It's okay to talk about it," Wyatt said soothingly.

"It's not," Meredith countered, finding the strength to finally shift her gaze to the therapist. "My mother slit her wrists with a scalpel right in front of me and I had to sit in a pool of her blood until she passed out so I could call nine-one-one."

"Why did you have to wait?"

Meredith took a deep, shuddery breath before digging down into herself for the strength to keep talking. She was so far outside her element right now, it was all she could do not to physically make a run for it. "I was playing on the kitchen floor. She sat beside me, pulled out the scalpel and made me promise not to call for help. I...I didn't want to get in trouble. I'd been trying to be extra good because I still thought my father might come home if I was extra good." Tears welled in her eyes now at the unfairness of it all, but she ignored them. Dwelling on the emotional control Ellis had utilized as a parent wouldn't do anything to comfort the scared and vulnerable child Meredith had once been.

"She didn't even flinch when she slit her wrists. She just looked so clinical. And there was so much blood. Then she looked me in the eyes and told me to be extraordinary." She closed her eyes at the memory as a surge of emotional pain washed over her. She so desperately didn't want to be ordinary. She wanted to prove to her mother that she could be extraordinary. "Eventually she passed out. I didn't want to get in trouble, but I knew what all the blood meant, and I didn't want her to die. So, I called nine-one-one. And I got some towels and tried to stop the bleeding. And then the paramedics came."

"Did they bring her here?"

She shook her head. "Mercy West. They took me with them. They wouldn't let me stay with her. They left me in the doctors' lounge. I can remember..." She trailed off as her emotions got the better of her. She swiped at her face and swallowed hard. "I remember sitting alone on the floor because I didn't want to get blood on the furniture. I thought I'd get in trouble if I did."

"They didn't give you fresh clothes?"

"The social worker did when she showed up. The clothes were too big, but they were dry."

"Did the social worker take you to your father?"

"No. She took me to group home. I was there for about a week. No one really talked to me. And I didn't say a word the whole time I was there. I think I thought she was dead. Then she just showed up and it was all over."

"Did she discuss what had happened with you?"

"No."

"Did you ever see a therapist or-"

"No." Meredith cut her off. "My mother valued strength. She'd think I was weak for needing help." She scoffed. "She'd think I was weak and ordinary just for being here now."

Wyatt frowned. "Meredith, being here, needing help, does not make you weak or ordinary. You've displayed a significant amount of strength to tell me these things."

Meredith nodded numbly. "Is there anything else you need to know?"

"What happened with your father?"

"He left. He packed up his things and promised to see me soon. And then he was gone and I never saw or heard from him again until this year. There was a bomb threat last year. I got caught in the blast and afterwards..." She sighed. "I guess I convinced myself maybe I just knew my mother's version and maybe there was a box full of unopened cards somewhere or something. I looked him up and went to his house. But there was no box of unopened cards. He wasn't glad to see me. Then a few months later he showed up at the hospital with his wife and pregnant daughter." She briefly described Molly's pregnancy and Laura's medical scares. She explained Susan's goodness and the relationship between Susan and Meredith that had been developing. She told Wyatt of the hope she had had that maybe she'd found a family. "But then Susan died," she said bluntly. "She was dying and she reached for me and there was nothing I could do to save her.

"Thatcher wouldn't let me go to the funeral. He showed up drunk and angry at the hospital on that morning. He yelled, said he blamed me and I wasn't welcome." She paused before admitting, "He hit me after he found out about Susan. I guess that should have been enough for me to realize how little I mattered to him."

"He hit you? Where?"

She touched her cheek. "He slapped me. In the waiting room. In front of the Chief, my Chief Resident and Derek."

"And what did you do?"

"I ran."

"What did Derek do?"

"He came after me." She allowed herself to remember the comfort he'd given her. She knew he would have wanted to retaliate against Thatcher in that moment, but his will to be with her had been stronger. "Then when Thatcher showed up the morning of the funeral, he wouldn't let him get too close to me."

"And then your other half sister starting working here," Wyatt said, making the connections from the little information Meredith had told her.

Meredith nodded, and proceeded to give a more detailed explanation of Lexie's sudden appearance, their interactions and eventual acceptance. She also explained the conversation she'd had with Thatcher when he had shown up in the ER with an injured hand.

"Did you ever ask about your father when you were a child?" Wyatt asked once Meredith had finished, moving the conversation back in time again.

"A few times. She'd get angry or yell at me. She never gave me an explanation, so I stopped asking. She didn't give me many explanations, actually. She treated me like I was stupid. I'd ask questions and she'd tell me I was too young or too weak to understand. She always made me feel like I was failing to extraordinary." She went on to explain Ellis's neglect and determination to spend most of her time at the hospital. She explained that she had spent most of her time alone at home, not getting enough supervision, food or attention. She'd started to act out in high school to get some attention; knowledge she hadn't even needed a shrink to tell her. She'd been a smart teenager. She'd known why she was acting out while she was doing it; not that it had worked.

She told Wyatt about applying to medical school to prove she could get in, and then fighting with her mother when she didn't want to go. She told Wyatt how she had gone to Europe to get away, and that she'd gotten news that her mother was sick, so she had to go home. She told Wyatt that she'd gone to medical school to make her mother happy, and that she'd tried to turn over a new leaf, but keeping her mother at home during her first year of medical school had kept her from making any lasting connections with other students. She explained the decision to put her mother into a home, and how isolated she'd felt in school. She'd knowingly made the wrong kind of friends in order to have someone in her life.

She told Wyatt that she'd taken the residency in Seattle because she thought that was what her mother would have wanted. She explained how she had initially kept her mother's condition secret, but it had come out. She explained what had happened the day her mother had been lucid and had called her ordinary. She explained how she had felt after her mother had died.

She told Wyatt that she was the second person she had ever told any of this to.

When she was done, she wiped the lines of tears off of her cheeks and met Wyatt's gaze. "Anything else?"

"Only if you have more to tell me."

Meredith sighed. "You should probably know that the man my mother had an affair with, the love of her life, is my Chief of Surgery."

Wyatt started slightly at this.

Meredith shrugged. "I didn't know when I took the job, but I figured it out. I called him on it and he admitted it. It's not just me thinking it's him."

"Okay."

"Okay," Meredith repeated back mechanically. She'd run out of anything to say.

Wyatt offered her a small smile and shook her head. "Thank you for telling me all of that. I know it can't have been easy."

Meredith wiped her cheeks again, but said nothing.

"You say you became a doctor for your mother."

"Yes."

Wyatt pursed her lips in contemplation before asking, "But your mother is gone now. So, why do you keep doing it?"

The question took Meredith by surprise. "I..." She trailed off, unable to come up with an answer.

Wyatt offered her an encouraging smile. "Are you still a doctor because you're still trying to live up to your mother's expectations? Or are you still a doctor because that's what you want to do with your life?"

Realization washed over Meredith with the first question. She hadn't even realized she had been doing it with her mother as well. "I made her a role model," she whispered.

Wyatt nodded. "I think you did. The question is, is she still a role model? Are you still trying to live up to her expectations, or are you living for you?"

Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head. "I don't know," she whispered.

"Maybe that's something you need to take some time to think about."

Meredith blinked furiously as tears began to stream down her cheeks. She'd been crying steadily while she had bared her childhood and family memories to Wyatt, but those had been single tears with space between. The new tears streamed from her eyes one after another as she fought to understand whose life she was living.

"She made me like this, didn't she?" She demanded, suddenly overwhelmed with anger towards her mother. "She made me look for role models because she taught me to twist myself into knots trying to live up to her fucking expectations."

"Meredith-"

"I was never good enough," she said fiercely. "She treated me like I was ordinary. She did this to me!"

Wyatt rose and walked out of Meredith's line of sight for several moments. She then came back into view and passed Meredith a bottle of water.

"Just take a sip and try to calm down. You can't change what she did to you, but you can change how you react to it now."

Meredith tried to take a sip of the water, but started coughing at the first drop of water to hit the back of her throat. She felt her breathing escalate and shut her eyes tight as panic washed over her. She was losing control, just like that time with Lexie after Thatcher cut his hand.

"Slow, deep breaths," Wyatt's calm voice found her in her panic.

The words didn't help, but the tone did, and Meredith managed a single full breath.

A knock sounded at the door before Wyatt could say more. The therapist was quick to her feet. Meredith recognized the voice of the department receptionist on the other side of the door. She'd been surprised to see the light on under door so late. Meredith glanced at the clock on the wall and felt her demeanour fall even further. Her session was supposed to end almost an hour earlier and she knew she was Wyatt's last appointment of the day.

"I'm sorry," she choked out to Wyatt after the therapist had closed the door. "I'm keeping you late."

"It's no problem, Meredith. I'm sure your patients keep you late plenty, too."

She stood. "I'll go. I don't want to keep you."

"Sit down," Wyatt said calmly. "I want to make sure you're okay before I leave. This was a very tough session for you. Do you have to drive yourself home?"

She sat back down and shook her head. "Derek always waits for me." Other than the few times he had been in surgery or with a patient, he had always been waiting in his office for her. She would leave her session, go to the Residents' Lounge to change and then go to her husband's office. He would always offer unconditional love and support, regardless of her demeanour following her session. And he'd hug her.

And right now, she really needed a hug.

"Why don't I page him for you? Then I'll know you're okay and you won't be alone."

Meredith sniffed and nodded at the suggestion. She suddenly wanted her husband desperately. He'd made her feel grounded again. He'd banish the feeling of being out of control. "Okay."

Wyatt moved to her desk and picked up the phone. Meredith could hear her speaking with switchboard, requesting Dr. Shepherd be paged to her office. Just the knowledge that Derek would be here soon helped her to catch her breath. He was coming. He would be there soon. She could breathe.

Wyatt sat back down on her chair and leaned forward, meeting Meredith's gaze. "I'm very glad you told me all of these things, Meredith. The only thing I'm sorry about is that it'll be a week before we can have another session." She pulled a card out of her picket and passed it to Meredith. "I have an emergency line if you need me over the holidays."

Meredith took the card with a nod. "Thanks."

"We will fix this," Wyatt promised. "I know it feels impossible right now, but all of this was necessary. I know you're not comfortable opening yourself up like this, but it is necessary to heal and move forward. You've taken the hardest step, Meredith. I want to stress that point to you. You've taken the hardest step. And that took a great deal of strength. I will help you move forward from this."

"It does feel impossible right now," Meredith admitted.

"I know. But it's not. You came to me with a vague problem. We were then able to define the problem and recognize its pattern, and now we've identified the root. We can only go forward from here."

"I never realized..." She'd asked herself why she had looked for role models, but never when it had started or what had been the aetiology. Ellis had constantly made her feel like she had something to live up to. She'd made herself larger than life to Meredith, and with that made herself an impossible role model for Meredith, because she'd never be able to live up to expectations it had created.

Meredith had been set up to feel like a failure right from childhood. She hadn't had a chance.

"You're capable of living your own life, Meredith, just remember that."

Meredith nodded, though she wasn't sure if she believed her. The life she'd thought she'd been living was suddenly up for question.

There was a knock at the door. Meredith's heart clenched. She needed her husband. Right now. She had her breathing somewhat under control, but she wouldn't be able to keep that control for much longer without help. His help.

Wyatt answered the door and ushered Derek inside the room. The moment he saw her, his eyes filled with concern and he hurried to sit next to her on the couch. "Hey," he murmured, placing one hand on her back tentatively. "I was getting worried when it got so late. Are you...okay?"

She turned into him and buried her face into his shoulder. "No," she whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She took comfort from his warmth. He had already changed to go home, into a white button down and navy sweater. She loved this sweater. It was so soft. She hated dampening it with her tears, but she couldn't help it. She clutched at him, wanting to be closer.

"What happened?" Derek asked, though from his tone, she could tell he wasn't talking to her. He was addressing Wyatt.

Wyatt said nothing.

After a moment, Meredith raised her head to see Wyatt standing silently by her chair.

"It's okay," Meredith told her. Being a doctor, she realized Wyatt's position. Even though she had paged Derek to her office, she legally couldn't even acknowledge the doctor-patient relationship between herself and Meredith without Meredith's permission. "You can talk to him."

Wyatt nodded before turning to Derek. "We had a tough session. I just didn't want her going home by herself." She offered them both an encouraging smile. "Stay as long as you need. Just turn off the light and close the door behind you. And Meredith, remember what I said. I'll see you next week."

"Okay."

Wyatt left them alone.

Derek turned to her, confusion and concern written all over his face. "This is a tough session? What the hell did she do to you?"

She shook her head. "She didn't do anything to me. I...I told her. Everything."

"Everything everything?"

She nodded.

"I thought you were going to wait a bit?"

"I was. But then..." She huffed. "What's the point in waiting? I just wanted to get it over with. And coming here twice a week knowing that I need to tell her something is useless."

"So, how did it go?"

She raised an eyebrow in question.

He released a laughing breath. "Sorry, it's pretty clear how it went." He ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry," he said again, "I'm not good at this. I want to be. I just don't know what to say. What do you need me to do to help you?"

She leaned closer to rest her forehead against his chin. She angled her neck and inhaled the scent of Derek wafting from his neck. "You are good at this. Honestly, the fact that you sometimes don't know what to say make me feel better about myself."

He chuckled and began to run her back. "Thank you, I guess?"

Surprising herself, she laughed quietly, amazed that he could make her feel so much better so quickly.

"So, you told her," he echoed her earlier words.

"I told her."

"And you're still okay."

"I...am," she accepted. It had been horrible, but now it was over. Her past was out there for Wyatt to know about.

He pulled back to meet her eyes.

"She pointed out some things. It was unexpected. And now I'm...confused."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I do," she told him, "But not now. I need to...digest it. And not here." She took a deep breath and ran her hand across his shoulder and up his neck to rest on his cheek. "I really want to go home."

He covered her hand with his and leaned in to kiss her gently. "Okay." He then kissed her on the forehead. "Let's go home."

They stood and walked together, hand in hand, from Wyatt's office to the Residents' Lounge so she could change out of her scrubs. Meredith was both relieved that the weight of knowledge was off of her shoulders and confused at the connections Wyatt had made her see. Whose life was she really living? Did she even want to be a doctor? Was she only fighting to be a good surgeon to make her mother proud?

She didn't know what was worse; the questions themselves or the fact that she didn't have answers for them.

It would be tough to really face the questions, she knew, but she also knew it would be easier than it had been to face her past and tell it all to Wyatt.

One step at a time, she silently told herself. She squeezed Derek's hand, and smiled when she squeezed hers back, knowing that she had him no matter what.

And he understood now. She'd watched him slowly start to understand more and more as her therapy had progressed, but now she saw no hint of uncertainty or doubt in his eyes. He no longer questioned why he wasn't enough to help her.

She could tell he understood now that he was helping her. His support and love were more than therapy could ever offer.