A/N September 25, 2011 – Another story, even a one shot, was definitely not in my plans – ever. But, after watching season premiere last night,( yes, not on Thursday) as with every story I've written, I needed some Meredith and Derek therapy. I've written in its entirety tonight, but I'm going to post in two parts. After the premiere, it's my fear we are in for a roller-coaster ride, and the end is not necessarily what most of us MD fans of seven seasons would like to see unfold.
I can't say I'm as inspired as with the others, but, I had to put something in writing, and the last sentiment expressed by Meredith(Part 2) is something I've been pondering since she tampered with the trial, but I've not read or heard any mention of it. Hope this bit of "communication" between them offers a glimpse of hope and healing for a couple I know we all want to see reconciled and working on nurturing their relationship.
Whether good or bad, would love to read your comments. Warm regards, Jasmin
Post it vows - link to Y - tube not allowed. You can access with the usual www dot you tube dot com slash followed by watch?v=FRj1LHZHYVo
"I want to be with you forever, and you want to be with me forever. In order to do that, we need to make vows, a commitment, a contract. Give me a piece of paper."
"I have post its."
"What do we want to promise each other"?
"That you'll love me, even when you hate me."
"To love each other, even when we hate each other.
No running. Ever. Nobody walks out, no matter what happens."
"That we'll take care of each other, even when we're old and smelly and senile. And if I get Alzheimer's and forget you."
"I'll remind you, who I am every day."
"To take care when old, senile, smelly. This is forever."
"This is our wedding…a post it?"
"If you sign it."
"Now, I kiss the bride."
Broken Vows … Unfulfilled Promises – Part 1
Tears pooled incessantly in the blue irises, often reflecting shades of grey or green, as dawn drew near, minutes symbolically ticking away, while red rimmed-eyes matched the numbers on the nightstand clock signaling the promise of a new day; one certain to be filled with heartache.
Meredith stirred slightly, the bark of a neighbor's dog breaking the deafening silence of a night void of a baby's cries; of Zola's babbles…her daughter's smiles; gone, possibly forever.
"I promise you," she became lost in thought, much of how she'd spent the night; in the past, immersed in memories of a day not long ago in the elevator. "I will make sure we have a baby. I promise you, one way or another, you and I will be parents. I promise you."
That was one promise he'd fulfilled; others, she thought, past and recent to remain unfulfilled.
Tears allowed to flow freely, intermittent and intermingled with heartbreaking sobs throughout the night, gave rise to a myriad of emotions; thoughts of Derek's absence and detachment turning to painful reminders of years of abandonment. Anger toward him for running away, and at herself for avoiding and allowing him to perpetuate the inevitable confrontation, propelled her from bed, a resolve that wouldn't last very long, and hours before she was due at the hospital ran the shower.
The all too familiar sounds of the ferry docking disrupted his train of thought; effectively giving momentary pause to the tumultuous emotions that had kept Derek from sleeping the night before; anger, resentment, disappointment…and in the depth of his soul… regret, forced him to face the inevitable; the painful moment in the middle of the dark cloudy night when he faced the truth that fueled his anger. Those old fears resurfaced making his chest tighten, adding new ones, the fear that their child, their baby girl was gone, possibly forever.
The first ferry of the morning, normally on time, took exactly thirty five minutes, and on this day; one surely destined for additional heartbreak, the journey had ended too quickly; as quickly as he envisioned the potential fate and demise of his marriage. Now, he delayed the inevitable as he sat in his car and waited for signs of life from their bedroom window.
The usual warmth of the much loved red robe, in part for the many memories created when Derek had playfully discarded it and indulged her every desire, was noticeably absent. Meredith shivered as she looked longingly across the room at the empty crib, then to their bed and her gaze settled on the increasingly blurry blue of a post it note framed by wood.
Derek stood silently outside their bedroom door, wondering where Cristina was; surprised when Alex came out of his room and glared at him with obvious contempt before shutting the bathroom door behind him.
Meredith turned quickly at the sound, and stood unmoving as she met her husband's gaze accusingly.
"I came to get my things." Derek stated exactly the opposite of the reason he'd come. His comment a defensive reaction to the judgment he found in her gaze.
Meredith lifted her chin and sighed deeply, then nodded; unwilling to risk additional heartbreak, the almost unnoticeable quiver of her lips momentarily breaking his barriers.
"We'll get her back," Derek said simply, the smallest attempt at comforting her.
Meredith nodded as she bit her lower lip, and slightly turned away from him as she wiped away her tears. "I think," she faced him again, and met his gaze. "I don't think…that's going to happen."
The sadness in her eyes and defeat in her voice instinctively making him want to reach for her, but refrained. "Meredith," he cleared his throat. "We don't know that."
"I wouldn't be a good Mom," her eyes filled with tears, and she spoke ever so quietly, acceptingly. "Janet…she realized that…like you did."
"Meredith," he stepped toward her, but her next words stopped him.
"It's ok," Meredith told him, resigned, echoing years of self-doubts and abandonment. "You were right…Derek," and then she broke him, "I am a lemon…there's no fixing me."
"Don't you dare," Derek began, his rough tone not matching his emotions; or the overwhelming needs to make amends, to heal the wounds his words had caused. The need to show her, prove to her, his continuous remorse over that statement long ago, over what had been one of the most shameful of his actions in the course of their relationship. Had been, the words of his heart would echo loudly, as now that moment had been replaced by another even deeper wound he had inflected when he questioned her abilities, and reinforced her doubts she could be a good mother.
"Why not," she said defiantly, "it's obviously what you think of me," and the conversation taking a life of its own; so unlike her earlier predawn resolve to stop avoiding and further driven by the mutual suppressed emotions of the last week, erupted like a dormant volcano.
A/N - judging from number of comments, not much interest, please let me know if anyone wants to read part 2. Thanks.