All Along The Watchtower - Part 25 - Scene 6
Title: All Along The Watchtower
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Pairing: Mer/Der
Rating: M
Summary: S6 continuation. Immediately post Sanctuary / Death and All His Friends.
Thank you so much for the feedback, all, and thanks especially to my beta readers for dealing with draft after draft of this. I had a lot of trouble getting this sub-chapter fixed up. I'm a bit nervous about it because of that. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy it. Feedback is appreciated!
For those of you who may have missed it, I wrote a fundraiser fic for the Dempsey Challenge featuring MerDerOla and Stewart (yes, Stewart from LST!). I've included more information about the story and how to obtain it here: http://ariaadagio.livejournal.com/176001.html
All Along The Watchtower - Part 25
Scene Six
They stood in a tight clot of bodies that barely fit into the room. Hulking bookshelves lined the dingy white walls of the windowless office, making the room seem even tighter around them than it should have been. Opposite the door rested a mahogany executive desk that gleamed under the overhead lights. Behind the opposing desk sat a man. A short, heavyset man, no taller than Dr. Bailey, with a bulbous nose, nostrils exploding with bushy salt-and-pepper-colored hair, and a poof-y dead raccoon, or something, sitting on his head. Maybe, not a dead raccoon. But it was... something. Something seemed to be an apt description. And Meredith couldn't tear her eyes away from it for the longest stretch of silence.
The little man glared back at them with a disinterested sniff. He brushed his sleek black robes with his hands as if to primp like a cat. His desk was stacked high with papers and books and other official-looking things. Even a fancy gavel and a round striker plate. Like, perhaps, in his spare time, he whacked the thing on the desk for fun.
Did judges even use gavels in weddings?
“Crap, I'm sorry,” Meredith said. She glanced at Derek, but he said nothing to help her. He seemed more focused on his shoes than anything else. Ever since he'd told Alex, Lexie, and Cristina about his drug problem, he'd acted like a shrinking violet who didn't know English around them, which was neutral at best, but at times like this, extremely. Freaking. Irritating.
Damn it.
She sighed, frustration making her teeth clench. “Can't we just--?” She waved her hands in a useless gesture. “Forgo the party limit this time? I mean we're all already here...” The butterflies playing tag in her stomach - why were butterflies playing tag in her stomach??? - and the shiver of excitement and last minute nerves compounded her frustration. Made it hard to think.
She was getting married. Really legally married. They would need a lawyer to undo it. Not that they would ever undo it. But... yeah.
It was a Big Thing.
The judge shook his head and looked down his nose imperiously at them. “Rules are rules,” he said in a booming bass that belied his tiny frame. Meredith glanced at the shiny nameplate sitting on his desk. Honorable Ian Cobblebodum. She couldn't help snorting despite her irritation as he continued, “Only six people in the wedding party are allowed in the room.”
Meredith turned to face said wedding party. Owen, Chief Webber, Mark, Lexie, Alex, Cristina, and Derek's mother fanned around her. Meredith felt squished between them and the desk.
“Well, what should we do?” Meredith said.
“You can start by removing three people,” said the judge behind her.
“How did you get this job?” Lexie said. “You're upholding an institution of love, a culmination of romance and happiness, and you're being a crotchety old fussbudget.” And then her face flushed bright red, her eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth, like she couldn't believe what she'd said. “I mean...”
And then she gave up trying to explain what she meant.
Judge Cobblebodum peered imperiously down his nose at Lexie. “Young lady, I am what you get when you sign up to get married at the last moment in the last appointment slot of the day. All the happy judges are done for the day, and I got pulled out of an office birthday party for this.”
“Oh,” said Lexie.
“I'm missing chocolate cake,” said the judge. He crinkled his nose and gestured between Meredith and Derek. “They'll just divorce in a few years, and I'll probably miss chocolate cake for that, too.”
Lexie stared, mouth agape. Meredith frowned.
“And I thought I was cynical,” Cristina said.
“Try not to be when you've done this for fifty years,” said Judge Cobblebodum, grumbling as he shifted in his chair. “Can we get on with this, please?”
“Um,” Meredith said, swallowing. “Well...”
She couldn't ask one of them to leave, let alone three. How was she supposed to pick something like that? Especially after she'd dragged all of them there on a last minute phone call, and they'd waited with her for an hour in the waiting room downstairs while the frazzled clerk had penciled them into the only open slot of the day. And she was really getting married. Right the hell now. This was...
“I'll wait outside,” Owen said before she could resort to eenie-meanie.
Meredith glanced at Cristina, who shrugged. “But--” Meredith began.
“It's fine; trust me,” Owen said. He smiled and reached forward to shake Derek's hand. Derek flinched. Not much. Enough for Meredith to feel his body twitch beside her. Owen didn't call attention to the movement. He shifted his smile smoothly to Meredith. “Congratulations,” he said while Derek collected himself. Owen shuffled back one step, two. The doorknob clicked as he pulled on the heavy door. Noise from the outside hallway rushed in. Voices. Bustle. And then he slipped out of the room.
“That was very nice of him,” Carolyn said as the door slid shut. Quiet covered them once more like a soft blanket.
The Chief nodded. “It was.”
“Sorry,” Derek muttered. The first word he'd spoken in an hour, almost.
“Whatever. We've all got stuff,” Alex said.
Meredith looked at Derek. Really looked at him for the first time since this chaos had begun. Derek had been quietly following her lead since she'd decided the wedding must proceed early. He'd made phone calls when she'd asked him to. Gotten directions when she'd asked him to. Driven when she'd asked him to, so she could worry about planning. He'd seemed excited and sedately pleased with the situation, but then everybody had started to arrive, and he'd melted into the chaos, forgotten.
From the tight, straight line of his lips, to the small dots of sweat on his pale brow, perhaps his reticent behavior didn't have so much to do with shyness after all. Or maybe shyness was dancing hand-in-hand with another problem. He was having a bad day, and the press of the crowd couldn't be doing him and his peace-of-mind any favors.
“There are still too many people in this room,” Judge Cobblebodum said as if to echo her thoughts.
Alex nodded. “I'll wait outside, too.”
“Alex...” Meredith said.
“I'm just here for you,” he said with a shrug. “I can be here for you in the hallway with Hunt.”
He gave her a pointed look. The world seemed to spin on that moment, and Meredith swallowed.
We're not hopeful, Dr. Weston had said.
What do you mean, you're not hopeful? she'd practically growled into the phone.
I truly very sorry, but I mean you might want to come and say your goodbyes.
He can't die.
Dr. Grey--
My husband has spaghetti for insides, and he can't even sit up. Alex can't die right now.
Dr. Grey, I'm--
He can't! she'd snapped. She'd hung up the phone, unable to think about Alex when she'd barely been processing the very real possibility of Derek's death. She hadn't gone to visit Alex until over a week later. Lexie had stayed with him. Day and night for weeks. To the point that their house had seemed like a ghost town when Meredith had brought Derek home from the hospital.
The room seemed to blur.
People had always left her. Always.
Except they hadn't left her this time. Nobody had left her. And, now, she was getting married. And it was...
Big.
It was really. Really. Big.
And permanent.
“Alex,” she said around the sudden lump in her throat. “I'm getting married.” The words were a bare, cracking whisper she could barely hear.
Alex grinned at her. “Is that why we're at the courthouse?” he teased.
“Shut up,” she muttered softly, blinking through the wet blur filming her eyes.
“Please, please don't go crazy hormonal right now,” Cristina said. “I'm still recuperating from yesterday.”
“Leave her alone,” Lexie said.
“Are you okay?” Derek said softly beside her.
“Yeah,” Meredith said. She wiped her face, and the backs of her hands came away sticky. “I'm not crazy,” she added.
“But definitely hormonal,” Cristina said.
“Only I'm allowed to say that,” Meredith said. “If you say it, it's mean and judge-y.”
“Seriously?”
Meredith nodded, sniffling. “Yes.”
“You realize how ridiculous that sounds,” Cristina said, in a tone that was not a question.
“Yes,” Meredith said. “If you ever have a baby, you'll understand.”
“I'll never have a baby,” Cristina said.
“Well, join me in the land of the hypothetical!”
Cristina crossed her arms. “Fine,” she said. “I'm hypothetically pregnant. Solidarity. Can we get on with this?”
“Shut up,” Meredith said once more.
Cristina rolled her eyes.
Meredith turned to Alex. “Are you sure you don't mind?” she said.
Alex gave her a cheerful wink. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'll be right outside with Hunt.”
“Me, too,” said Chief Webber.
Meredith's jaw dropped. “But, Chief!”
The Chief glanced at Lexie and Cristina. “Family is important,” he said, his voice honey rich and soft. He squeezed Meredith on the shoulder. His gaze lasted long enough to make her blush and look awkwardly to the threadbare, orange carpet. “I'm very proud of you,” he added. He glanced at Derek. “Both of you.” Then he followed Alex out the door.
The fan of people around her and Derek loosened, and along with the lower people density, Derek loosened up, too. He took a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled beside her as if he'd just been removed from agony. Perhaps he had been. She felt a bit claustrophobic in this tiny room herself. She could only imagine how he felt, and all at once, she was glad they'd opted for a small Big Gigantic Permanent wedding. She couldn't imagine the Shepherd family zoo in addition to this. This was cramped, and Dr. Bailey hadn't even arrived yet.
“Thank you,” Judge Cobblebodum said. “That was most irregular. A party of nine. Hmph.”
“I should have read the stupid website,” Meredith said. “Stupid, stupid spontaneity.”
“It's not stupid,” Derek said.
“I dragged a ton of people out of surgery to not be my witnesses,” Meredith said. “How is that not stupid?”
Lexie rifled through her purse. “I can record it with my iPhone, so they can still see it.”
Meredith frowned, looking pointedly at the black camera dangling from Lexie's neck by a thick strap that had turned some of her skin a blushing, irritated red. “I thought you were taking pictures,” she said.
“I can take pictures,” Mark offered.
“But you're my best man,” Derek said.
“I'll take pictures,” Carolyn interjected. She stretched out her hand toward Lexie. “Hand me the camera, please. You can do your phone... thing.”
Lexie handed her iPhone to Mark and attempted to twist out from the camera. One of the thick buckles caught on her purse strap, which then stuck to her loose hair. “Ow,” she said, the camera in one hand. She didn't move, as if she thought she might disturb equilibrium and rip off her scalp if she did. Mark shuffled closer and tried to disentangle the disaster, a look of consternation crossing his face as he did so.
“This is like juggling,” Cristina said.
Mark snickered as he extracted Lexie's hair from the mess. “With fewer broken plates,” he said.
“Ow!” Lexie snarled. “And more pain!”
He flinched and squeezed her shoulder gently. “Sorry.”
“I didn't break any plates,” Derek said as Mark struggled with the camera. “Only you did.”
“Wait a minute...” Cristina said.
“You two juggle?” Lexie said.
Mark nodded. “For hand-eye coordination. In college.”
“Seriously?” Lexie said. Liberated, she spun free of the camera. Mark passed it to Carolyn and handed the iPhone back to Lexie in a one-two shot of motion.
Meredith raised her eyebrows. “Do you knit, too?”
“Derek knits?” Cristina said.
Meredith frowned. “I didn't say that.”
“You implied it by association,” Cristina said.
Lexie sniggered.
“Also,” Cristina said as she swept her judging gaze over Mark and Derek, “neither of them is saying no.”
Derek reddened. “Mom...”
“Sorry,” Carolyn said, grinning. “I couldn't resist.”
“When on earth did you have time to tell Meredith I used to knit?” Derek said.
Carolyn shrugged. “You slept a lot after you were shot, dear.”
“Shot?” said Judge Cobblebodum.
Derek bristled and then relaxed, as if the reminder of his ordeal had slid off of him like water. He gave his mother a wavering smile that lasted for a nanosecond, but it was better than what he would have been able to muster for her only a few weeks before. Without thinking, Meredith touched his shoulder. His soft shirt slid underneath her fingertips as she moved her palm down his bicep, past his elbow, along the soft hairs of his forearm, and interlocked her fingers with his. His larger hand closed around hers. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed her hand in return.
They shared a look. Had a conversation in silence.
I'm okay, he said but didn't say.
I'm glad, she replied. This is really big. Like hugely gigantic big.
It is. Are you sure you're okay with this?
Yes, she said.
The world fell away as she peered at his eyes and lost herself in the deep blue. He had an older expression than the one he'd worn in the days preceding his injuries. She hated that Gary Clark had taken what little had remained of Derek's innocence. Hated the bloody, open wound Gary Clark had left behind in Derek's optimism. But Derek was doing better. So much better. She saw so many glimmers where she hadn't seen them before, and she felt hope.
He said he was here, now. Not okay, but here. She believed him.
And she did like that.
Mark cleared his throat, breaking the moment. Meredith had no idea how long she and Derek had been staring at each other all freakishly moon-eyed. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, and she swallowed. Maybe, she'd made a mistake, pushing this along. Derek had only just started to iron himself out, and she didn't want that to get messed up. His family thought he was rushing things to the point of mental incompetence. Were they rushing things? Except they were already married. This was no different. Other than needing lawyers to undo it if things went entirely to crap.
Why did this feel different?
“So, should we start without her?” Mark said.
The judge raised his eyebrows. “Without who?” he said, sudden alarm tingeing his tone.
“Derek?” Meredith said, ignoring Cobblebodum. She took a short breath and exhaled, trying to relax. “What do you think?” She wasn't sure whether she was asking for his opinion about Dr. Bailey, or something bigger.
The judge slapped his desk before Derek could answer. The man's robes rustled as he shifted. Meredith still had to look down, even though he'd stood up. “There can be no more people in this room!” he said. “We only allow parties of six, to include the bride and groom!”
Cristina glanced at her watch. “I have surgery in two hours,” she said. “Can we move this along?”
“Did she say she was coming when you called her on the phone?” Lexie said.
Meredith sighed. “She mostly just yelled at me for interrupting an appendectomy.”
“Well, an appendectomy is short,” Lexie said, her tone hopeful.
“I don't think it was laparoscopic.”
“Well, it's... it's less long than lots of long things!”
“Oh, god,” Meredith said. “She's going to kill me if she comes. She'll find a way to get me stuck on scut work for a week.”
“She can't do that,” Lexie said.
“She's Bailey,” Meredith said. “She'd find a way.”
“But why?”
Meredith jabbed her thumb at Cobblebodum. “Because McJudge only wants six people in the room!”
The judge looked most affronted. “Those are the rules,” he said. He brushed his sleeves and sniffed.
Mark clapped Derek on the back. “I'm sure she'll make it, man.”
Meredith swallowed as nerves became nausea. This was bad. This was bad, bad, bad. “I kind of hope she's too busy,” she muttered faintly. She didn't want to have to explain that she'd been too stupid to read the rules on the website before calling everybody under the sun. Not to Dr. Bailey. Not after the woman dropped everything, including a man's appendix, to witness this very Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent event.
“The cake is probably gone by now. No need to hurry on my account,” the judge said with withering look.
“We're really sorry,” Meredith said. She rubbed her temples. She was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. So was Derek. She'd dragged him here with no forewarning straight from the OB-GYN appointment. This was a Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent event, and they'd shown up dressed for the beach. A cold beach, at least. Her bikini would have been a bit much. Well, a bit little, literally speaking. Not that she wanted a gown or anything. But she could have worn a dress. Or spent some time on her hair. Or anything. “We just wanted--”
“I'll call her,” Mark said. “Maybe, she's on her way.” Mark stepped out of the room, and the outside noise blasted Meredith's ears before the door slid shut. She felt a bit lightheaded.
“Is there a chair?” she asked. Somebody pushed one against her knees, and she dropped like a brick into it.
“Dr. Bailey will be here,” Lexie said. “I'm sure. This was just so last minute.”
Definitely last minute.
And possibly rash.
Was this rash?
“Why did you bump this up, anyway?” Cristina said, as if reading Meredith's conscience like a novel.
“Weren't you just criticizing them last night for the fact that they hadn't done it already?” Lexie said.
“I only pointed out that Evil Spawn's logic was logical.”
“I wanted to do it now,” Meredith said, her voice faint. Her hand wandered to her bellybutton and lower, and she rubbed in a slow, soothing circle to calm herself down. She didn't realize what she was doing until half-a-rotation into the motion, and by then it was too late.
“Oh, no,” Cristina said. “You saw the blob squirm on the ultrasound and got all goopy, didn't you?”
“It's not goopy.”
“It's kind of goopy,” Cristina countered.
“I'll have you know I'm still very dark and twisty!” Meredith responded.
Cristina sighed. “I think you lost the dark and twisty handbook.”
“There's a handbook?” Lexie said.
“If there is,” Derek muttered, “I haven't found it.”
Meredith's stomach flip-flopped again. This wasn't a mistake. Derek was feeling better, and they had a baby on the way, and she loved him more than her own life, and he loved her, and what was mistake-y about that? They'd only bumped things up by a few days, anyway.
Nothing was mistake-y, she told herself angrily.
This was just jitters.
Wedding jitters.
Oh, god. Cristina was right.
How had Meredith gotten to a point in her life where she could have wedding jitters? Men were merely bed warmers until a few years ago. But, now, she was marrying one in a Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent sense. She was pregnant and thinking goopy thoughts about babies.
Babies!
And why did she have to freak out at such inopportune times?
Mark stepped back into the room, cellphone in hand. “She's--”
Dr. Bailey stepped into the room behind him, her arms folded across her chest. She looked like she'd just stepped out of surgery. Literally. Her swept back hairdo had a dent from her surgical mask ties. She wore her scrubs and her white lab coat, which had a red stain on the sleeve that could only be dried blood. She looked at the room's occupants, gazing from Mark, to Lexie, to Cristina, to Carolyn, to Derek, to Meredith, and then to Judge Cobblebodum in the space of an eye blink. Her gaze didn't betray any reaction to the raccoon thing on Cobblebodum's head. She was tough as stone. “Well?” she said.
“Here already,” Mark finished as he pocketed his cellphone.
“You made it,” Derek said, a curious blend of relief and disbelief wrapped around his tone.
“Of course I made it,” Dr. Bailey said with a dismissive shake of her head. “Why wouldn't I make it?”
“No reason,” Derek said. His lips ticked upward at the edges. A hesitant, wavering smile. “Thank you,” he said warmly.
She glowered, as if to say, Don't get mushy, you big mousse head.
Judge Cobblebodum made an irritated clucking sound. “I cannot abide by having a seven person party in this room!”
“Well, that's a stupid rule,” Dr. Bailey said, turning to the judge. She pushed through the crowd, deftly dodging Meredith's char as she marched toward the desk, her arms still folded. The judge's gaze paused when he spotted the blood on her sleeve.
“It's a fire hazard to--”
Dr. Bailey's eyes narrowed. “We all survived a shooting four months ago by keeping clear heads. Do we look like people who panic?”
Cobblebodum blinked. “Well, no.” His gaze shifted to Dr. Bailey's state of dress, to her lab coat, where it said Seattle Grace Mercy West in blue embroidery, and then back to her face. “A shooting?”
“Yes, a shooting. Do you really expect us to trample each other if your waste paper basket suddenly catches on fire?”
Judge Cobblebodum reddened. “I--”
Dr. Bailey glared and leaned closer. “I know you didn't make me come all the way down here to kick me out of the room.”
“I most certainly did not,” Judge Cobblebodum said.
“Good,” said Dr. Bailey with a pert nod. “I'm glad we have that settled.”
“I didn't mean--”
“Didn't mean what?” Dr. Bailey said.
Judge Cobblebodum stuttered. Opened his mouth and closed it. With a slight sigh, he pulled an embroidered hanky from his robes and wiped his round face. The raccoon something on his head shifted to reveal a hairline that had retreated to the point of surrender.
Lexie's bubbly laugh made the little judge freeze.
Dr. Bailey peered at Lexie. “Do you have something to add?”
“No, ma'am,” Lexie said. She looked at her shoes as her face turned stoplight red.
Judge Cobblebodum sighed. “Let's just continue,” he said, the fight in his tone lost to resignation as he hid the hanky somewhere in his robes. “Do you two have rings to exchange?”
Meredith froze in her seat. “Um,” she said. Great. “We never really talked about rings.”
The judge frowned. “Vows, then?”
“Crap,” Meredith said. “Vows. I didn't do those, yet.” She looked at Derek helplessly.
Derek shrugged. “I wasn't going to write mine until tonight.”
The butterflies in her stomach picked up mallets, and suddenly she felt herself fighting back tears again. This was huge. Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent. They'd shown up in t-shirts after she'd gotten goopy and hormonal about a freaking baby. They didn't have rings. They didn't have vows.
Judge Cobblebodum sighed. “I assume this means we're just repeating the canned vows, signing the paperwork, and then I can go back to my empty plate?”
“No, we should totally have real vows,” Meredith said. She struggled to her feet. Her teeth chattered with nerves, and she wiped her face, conscious of free-flowing tears. “It's not real if there aren't any real vows.”
“Who on earth told you that?” Derek said, a touch of horror in his tone.
“Nobody,” Meredith said. “I just...”
She didn't have a chance to finish her thought because he pulled her into his arms. He pressed his forehead against hers. Kissed her. It was easy to forget she was standing in a room with a crotchety old judge and all of her friends.
The things in her orbit went dark around her except for him.
Just him.
She could pretend they had privacy.
“Maybe, we should wait,” he said, the words soft against her face.
“No!” she blurted, her fingers tightening like talons against his shoulders. “I want to marry you. Right the hell freaking now. I don't care if it's Big. You were shot in the chest while I watched, and then you almost died again from complications that arose from fixing that. You were so sick, and they treated me like your neighbor, and I don't want to do it again. If you die on me, I don't want it to be like that, and if I die on you, I want to know you can do the things I couldn't when you were sick. I don't care if it's rash or that we need lawyers if this all goes wrong; I need this. I love our Post-it. I love what it means, and that, in our little denial bubble, it was enough. But the Post-it isn't enough in real life. Real life freaking sucks.”
And there it was.
Silence stretched.
“What Post-it?” Cobblebodum said curiously.
Derek stared at her, gaze searching her face. His thumb brushed her skin. The side of her face. His lip twitched. Like he wanted to say something, but didn't know what it should be, yet. He settled on rubbing her back.
She panted, fighting off dissolution into completely crying all over him. She felt better, now. Calmer. All those jumbles of nerves had exploded out of her mouth. Jitter vomit. The butterflies had died. Her panting became longer breaths became deep, even inhalations and exhalations.
“Real life does suck,” he said. “Doesn't it?”
“I hate it,” she admitted miserably.
“Me, too.”
The bald honesty in his tone slayed her. Derek Shepherd shouldn't be dark and twisty. She closed her eyes and rested against him. “It sucks less like this.”
“It does,” he agreed.
“You're sure this counts with canned vows?”
“My fifty cynical years of experience say it counts,” Judge Cobblebodum assured them with, for once, no sarcastic bite in his tone.
Meredith sighed as their surroundings intruded, and the bubble she'd built popped. Derek's arms tightened like a cocoon around her briefly, and then he let her go. She wiped her face and clawed her messy hair out of her eyes.
“We could just repeat what we have on the Post-it,” Derek said, ignoring the judge.
“What Post-it?” said Cobblebodum. There was something different hovering in his eyes. Something less... bored.
“It was a thing,” Lexie said when no one else leaped to explain. “They planned to come here last year, but George died, and Izzie was sick with cancer, so they signed their vows on a Post-it note instead.”
“A literal Post-it,” Cobblebodum said.
“Yes,” Lexie said. “And don't you dare comment. They're finally here, and you're ruining it!”
“I was only curious,” the judge said indignantly. He glanced at Meredith and Derek. “Please, continue.”
“But I don't know what to say,” Meredith said, feeling helpless.
“You don't need to write paragraphs,” Carolyn said. “Why not just say something simple?”
Meredith frowned. “Like what?”
“Well, Derek, sweetheart,” his mother began, “what's the one thing you really want Meredith to know before you sign the paper?”
Derek blinked, as if the question had caught him by surprise. “I--”
“Wait!” Lexie snapped. She raised her iPhone and hit the record button. “Okay. Action!”
Derek stared at Meredith, an unreadable look on his face.
“Something you maybe haven't told her that you think she should know,” Carolyn prodded.
“I... only knitted the one scarf,” Derek said. “It wasn't an actual hobby.”
Meredith laughed and she felt herself loosen like an uncoiling spring. Derek's eyes twinkled. He'd done that on purpose. To put her at ease. Make her feel better despite how self-conscious she felt. He'd known to do that, and she hadn't asked.
She loved him. She really, really loved him. In a big, share the last piece of cheesecake way.
“Did you really not break any plates?” she said, staring at him.
“I juggled apples,” he said. “Bruised them all to hell, but didn't break anything. It's what you should know about me, I guess.” He winked. “I'm an undercover clown.”
“Not Batman?”
“Oh, I'm him, too,” Derek said.
Meredith laughed.
“I have got to hear this story later,” Cristina said.
“It really does help with hand-eye coordination,” Derek said.
Meredith smiled. “Being Batman?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
The judge cleared his throat. “Must we?” he said.
“Meredith,” Carolyn began, “what would you like Derek to--?”
“Wait,” Derek said, interrupting her. Mark, Cristina, and Lexie stared in a way that made Meredith think they should be shoveling popcorn.
Carolyn's eyebrows rose. “Yes?”
He shook his head, and he swallowed. “What I really want Meredith to know is... is...”
“What?” Meredith said.
“What I haven't told you that I think you should know is...”
“Yes?” she said, exasperated when he couldn't seem to find the words. He tilted his head to the side in that way he did when he considered her. He took in her face with his gaze as though he were memorizing every feature, which seemed weird, because she knew he already had it all memorized. He cupped her chin. His lower lip quivered.
“I'd do it again,” he blurted.
She frowned. “Do what again?”
“Get shot,” he said. “If it meant you would be okay, that you would be safe, I would do it.” His voice got thick and low, like he was fighting a deep swell of emotion. He swallowed. “Without hesitation. No matter what future it meant for me.”
“Oh,” she said, and gravity swept in. She didn't think she'd ever meant that much to anyone. Ever. “But--”
He took a deep breath. “Thank you for being patient with me,” he said. He pressed closer, eyes watery, but never breaking his stare. “It means more than anything to me that you're still here, and you still believe in me, even though I can't figure out how to believe in myself most of the time. Every day we're together, I find more to love about you. You're like a lightning strike. Whatever happens between now and the day I die, I'll never find another you, and I wouldn't want to. You're the love of my life, and I'm really looking forward to spending my future with you.” He swallowed and took a short, hitching breath. “That's what I want you to know.”
“Oh,” she said as her innards sank into her shoes. She blinked at him. “Crap.”
“Crap?” Derek said, eyebrows creeping upward. His voice was thick and hard to hear. Like he'd almost been swept away in the emotional sea that had already capsized her.
She shook her head. “I can't match that...”
He smiled. Cleared his throat. “You don't have to match anything. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to.”
“I want to,” she said. She took a breath.
“One moment,” said Judge Cobblebodum.
Everybody turned toward him.
“Do you all know Detective Wolff?” he said.
For a moment, Meredith couldn't place the name, though it sounded familiar.
“Yes,” Derek said, the word soft.
And that was when it hit her. Detective Wolff had tried to interview her after the shooting, but she'd been less than helpful. She'd been too wrapped up in Derek nearly dying to deal with Alex nearly dying, and there'd been way too much nearly dying in general for her to want to recount her experience to a third party. She'd just... snapped in two when he'd called. The Detective had been warm with her, though, warm and understanding, and had never bothered her again.
“He tried to interview us,” Meredith said.
Cobblebodum nodded. “My son-in-law,” he said. And then he fell silent for a long time. He fiddled with his embroidered hanky, which, at some point, he'd pulled out of his robes again. He twisted it in his hands until it wrinkled.
“Sir,” Derek said. “I--”
“Shh!” said Cobblebodum. “I am deliberating.”
And the silence stretched. And stretched. Meredith glanced at Derek, who looked back at her and shrugged, a curious frown on his face. The gavel crashing on the striker plate was a loud sound in a small space, and the thunder of the motion made him flinch and bump into her. He reached for her shoulder with a shaky palm to steady himself.
“I've decided,” the judge announced, oblivious to Derek's discombobulation, though Derek seemed to unwind in moments. Meredith ran her palm against Derek's spine. The warmth of his skin seeped through his shirt into her palm, and he relaxed against her. The judge turned to Lexie. “Young lady,” he said. “Why don't you show the three gentlemen back into the room?”
Lexie gaped. “But I thought it was a fire hazard,” she said.
The judge peered at her. “Would you like me to change my mind?”
Lexie shifted toward the door, no further encouragement needed.
“Ray would be really happy to hear you're doing well,” Cobblebodum said simply after she'd stepped out. “He worked... very hard on that case.”
Meredith stared at Coddlebodum. “Thank you,” she said, the words thick and low. “Thank you, I...” She could barely contain the ready-to-cry that had lodged itself in her throat like a giant melon. And then a thought bounced in her skull. She looked at Derek. “Will you be okay?”
He looked at her with his bright blue eyes and winked.
She watched him as Owen, Richard, and Alex filed back into the sardine can behind Lexie. Derek stiffened. She felt it in his muscles. Saw it in his frame. But he kept staring at Meredith as though she were his life boat, as though he'd taken her existence and made that, alone, his replacement thought to carry him through the moment. He inched closer to her, as if he were trying to preserve a small bubble of untouched space around his body. Nobody in the room begrudged him that bubble. In fact, people seemed to be squeezing against the bookshelves and the furniture and each other, just to give him space, like they knew, even if they didn't know, what he needed. When the door whispered shut once more, he seemed mostly on an even keel.
Just by looking intently at her.
This man who would die for her.
She wasn't used to feeling like she was worth so much.
“The faith you put in me is freaking terrifying,” Meredith whispered. She reached for his face. Twisted a soft, curly lock around her index finger.
They shared another endless look.
I don't want you to be scared, he said but didn't say.
I'm trying not to be, she replied.
He winked at her. I'll be patient.
She laughed aloud, breaking the spell. Everybody stared at her. “Sorry,” she said. “It's nothing.”
“Meredith,” Carolyn said, prodding. “Is there something you'd like Derek to know before you sign the papers?”
“Um.” She struggled for a thought. Any thought. Anything half as nice as what he'd said about her. “I really hope our baby has your hair. That gene would be a shame to waste.”
Derek chuckled, and she blushed. She needed something better. Something that would mean something. This was their wedding. Their Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent wedding.
“You make me want to be better at all this goop stuff,” she said. “But I'm not. I'm dark and twisty and me, and it means a lot to me that that's okay with you.”
His gaze softened.
“You're worth it to me, Derek. But if you ever get shot for me, I'll kill you.”
His eyes sparkled when he said softly, “I'll try to do that sparingly then.”
“Good,” Meredith said.
He picked up a pen off the desk. “Should we sign, now?”
Judge Cobblebodum gestured mutely at the paperwork.
“I love you,” Derek said as he signed. He handed her the pen he'd used.
Meredith gripped it. Felt its weight in her hands. And then she signed the paper, too, relishing the whisper sound of the ballpoint sliding on the paper. “I love you,” Meredith said, an echo of him. She leaned into his arms after she relinquished the pen and watched the next few moments stuck in a haze of pleased lethargy.
This was really it.
Mark signed the document next. “I don't love either of you,” he said. “I'm just the witness.”
Cristina followed. “Yeah,” she said as she scribbled her name. “What he said.”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “They're lying.” The judge frowned. Lexie pointed to Mark and Cristina. “Them,” she clarified.
“Do you ever take a break from ruling the Land of Sickening and Sweet?” Cristina said.
“You'll find out if you keep snarking, you big pessimist,” Lexie replied.
“It's good that we all love each other,” said Judge Cobblebodum, only a hint of sarcasm riding on his voice as he signed on the last line. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
Meredith looked up. Met Derek's eyes. He smiled at her. Their fingers intertwined. He leaned closer. They kissed, and the flash of the camera captured the first moment of the rest of their lives.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Pairing: Mer/Der
Rating: M
Summary: S6 continuation. Immediately post Sanctuary / Death and All His Friends.
Thank you so much for the feedback, all, and thanks especially to my beta readers for dealing with draft after draft of this. I had a lot of trouble getting this sub-chapter fixed up. I'm a bit nervous about it because of that. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy it. Feedback is appreciated!
For those of you who may have missed it, I wrote a fundraiser fic for the Dempsey Challenge featuring MerDerOla and Stewart (yes, Stewart from LST!). I've included more information about the story and how to obtain it here: http://ariaadagio.livejournal.com/176001.html
All Along The Watchtower - Part 25
Scene Six
They stood in a tight clot of bodies that barely fit into the room. Hulking bookshelves lined the dingy white walls of the windowless office, making the room seem even tighter around them than it should have been. Opposite the door rested a mahogany executive desk that gleamed under the overhead lights. Behind the opposing desk sat a man. A short, heavyset man, no taller than Dr. Bailey, with a bulbous nose, nostrils exploding with bushy salt-and-pepper-colored hair, and a poof-y dead raccoon, or something, sitting on his head. Maybe, not a dead raccoon. But it was... something. Something seemed to be an apt description. And Meredith couldn't tear her eyes away from it for the longest stretch of silence.
The little man glared back at them with a disinterested sniff. He brushed his sleek black robes with his hands as if to primp like a cat. His desk was stacked high with papers and books and other official-looking things. Even a fancy gavel and a round striker plate. Like, perhaps, in his spare time, he whacked the thing on the desk for fun.
Did judges even use gavels in weddings?
“Crap, I'm sorry,” Meredith said. She glanced at Derek, but he said nothing to help her. He seemed more focused on his shoes than anything else. Ever since he'd told Alex, Lexie, and Cristina about his drug problem, he'd acted like a shrinking violet who didn't know English around them, which was neutral at best, but at times like this, extremely. Freaking. Irritating.
Damn it.
She sighed, frustration making her teeth clench. “Can't we just--?” She waved her hands in a useless gesture. “Forgo the party limit this time? I mean we're all already here...” The butterflies playing tag in her stomach - why were butterflies playing tag in her stomach??? - and the shiver of excitement and last minute nerves compounded her frustration. Made it hard to think.
She was getting married. Really legally married. They would need a lawyer to undo it. Not that they would ever undo it. But... yeah.
It was a Big Thing.
The judge shook his head and looked down his nose imperiously at them. “Rules are rules,” he said in a booming bass that belied his tiny frame. Meredith glanced at the shiny nameplate sitting on his desk. Honorable Ian Cobblebodum. She couldn't help snorting despite her irritation as he continued, “Only six people in the wedding party are allowed in the room.”
Meredith turned to face said wedding party. Owen, Chief Webber, Mark, Lexie, Alex, Cristina, and Derek's mother fanned around her. Meredith felt squished between them and the desk.
“Well, what should we do?” Meredith said.
“You can start by removing three people,” said the judge behind her.
“How did you get this job?” Lexie said. “You're upholding an institution of love, a culmination of romance and happiness, and you're being a crotchety old fussbudget.” And then her face flushed bright red, her eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth, like she couldn't believe what she'd said. “I mean...”
And then she gave up trying to explain what she meant.
Judge Cobblebodum peered imperiously down his nose at Lexie. “Young lady, I am what you get when you sign up to get married at the last moment in the last appointment slot of the day. All the happy judges are done for the day, and I got pulled out of an office birthday party for this.”
“Oh,” said Lexie.
“I'm missing chocolate cake,” said the judge. He crinkled his nose and gestured between Meredith and Derek. “They'll just divorce in a few years, and I'll probably miss chocolate cake for that, too.”
Lexie stared, mouth agape. Meredith frowned.
“And I thought I was cynical,” Cristina said.
“Try not to be when you've done this for fifty years,” said Judge Cobblebodum, grumbling as he shifted in his chair. “Can we get on with this, please?”
“Um,” Meredith said, swallowing. “Well...”
She couldn't ask one of them to leave, let alone three. How was she supposed to pick something like that? Especially after she'd dragged all of them there on a last minute phone call, and they'd waited with her for an hour in the waiting room downstairs while the frazzled clerk had penciled them into the only open slot of the day. And she was really getting married. Right the hell now. This was...
“I'll wait outside,” Owen said before she could resort to eenie-meanie.
Meredith glanced at Cristina, who shrugged. “But--” Meredith began.
“It's fine; trust me,” Owen said. He smiled and reached forward to shake Derek's hand. Derek flinched. Not much. Enough for Meredith to feel his body twitch beside her. Owen didn't call attention to the movement. He shifted his smile smoothly to Meredith. “Congratulations,” he said while Derek collected himself. Owen shuffled back one step, two. The doorknob clicked as he pulled on the heavy door. Noise from the outside hallway rushed in. Voices. Bustle. And then he slipped out of the room.
“That was very nice of him,” Carolyn said as the door slid shut. Quiet covered them once more like a soft blanket.
The Chief nodded. “It was.”
“Sorry,” Derek muttered. The first word he'd spoken in an hour, almost.
“Whatever. We've all got stuff,” Alex said.
Meredith looked at Derek. Really looked at him for the first time since this chaos had begun. Derek had been quietly following her lead since she'd decided the wedding must proceed early. He'd made phone calls when she'd asked him to. Gotten directions when she'd asked him to. Driven when she'd asked him to, so she could worry about planning. He'd seemed excited and sedately pleased with the situation, but then everybody had started to arrive, and he'd melted into the chaos, forgotten.
From the tight, straight line of his lips, to the small dots of sweat on his pale brow, perhaps his reticent behavior didn't have so much to do with shyness after all. Or maybe shyness was dancing hand-in-hand with another problem. He was having a bad day, and the press of the crowd couldn't be doing him and his peace-of-mind any favors.
“There are still too many people in this room,” Judge Cobblebodum said as if to echo her thoughts.
Alex nodded. “I'll wait outside, too.”
“Alex...” Meredith said.
“I'm just here for you,” he said with a shrug. “I can be here for you in the hallway with Hunt.”
He gave her a pointed look. The world seemed to spin on that moment, and Meredith swallowed.
We're not hopeful, Dr. Weston had said.
What do you mean, you're not hopeful? she'd practically growled into the phone.
I truly very sorry, but I mean you might want to come and say your goodbyes.
He can't die.
Dr. Grey--
My husband has spaghetti for insides, and he can't even sit up. Alex can't die right now.
Dr. Grey, I'm--
He can't! she'd snapped. She'd hung up the phone, unable to think about Alex when she'd barely been processing the very real possibility of Derek's death. She hadn't gone to visit Alex until over a week later. Lexie had stayed with him. Day and night for weeks. To the point that their house had seemed like a ghost town when Meredith had brought Derek home from the hospital.
The room seemed to blur.
People had always left her. Always.
Except they hadn't left her this time. Nobody had left her. And, now, she was getting married. And it was...
Big.
It was really. Really. Big.
And permanent.
“Alex,” she said around the sudden lump in her throat. “I'm getting married.” The words were a bare, cracking whisper she could barely hear.
Alex grinned at her. “Is that why we're at the courthouse?” he teased.
“Shut up,” she muttered softly, blinking through the wet blur filming her eyes.
“Please, please don't go crazy hormonal right now,” Cristina said. “I'm still recuperating from yesterday.”
“Leave her alone,” Lexie said.
“Are you okay?” Derek said softly beside her.
“Yeah,” Meredith said. She wiped her face, and the backs of her hands came away sticky. “I'm not crazy,” she added.
“But definitely hormonal,” Cristina said.
“Only I'm allowed to say that,” Meredith said. “If you say it, it's mean and judge-y.”
“Seriously?”
Meredith nodded, sniffling. “Yes.”
“You realize how ridiculous that sounds,” Cristina said, in a tone that was not a question.
“Yes,” Meredith said. “If you ever have a baby, you'll understand.”
“I'll never have a baby,” Cristina said.
“Well, join me in the land of the hypothetical!”
Cristina crossed her arms. “Fine,” she said. “I'm hypothetically pregnant. Solidarity. Can we get on with this?”
“Shut up,” Meredith said once more.
Cristina rolled her eyes.
Meredith turned to Alex. “Are you sure you don't mind?” she said.
Alex gave her a cheerful wink. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'll be right outside with Hunt.”
“Me, too,” said Chief Webber.
Meredith's jaw dropped. “But, Chief!”
The Chief glanced at Lexie and Cristina. “Family is important,” he said, his voice honey rich and soft. He squeezed Meredith on the shoulder. His gaze lasted long enough to make her blush and look awkwardly to the threadbare, orange carpet. “I'm very proud of you,” he added. He glanced at Derek. “Both of you.” Then he followed Alex out the door.
The fan of people around her and Derek loosened, and along with the lower people density, Derek loosened up, too. He took a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled beside her as if he'd just been removed from agony. Perhaps he had been. She felt a bit claustrophobic in this tiny room herself. She could only imagine how he felt, and all at once, she was glad they'd opted for a small Big Gigantic Permanent wedding. She couldn't imagine the Shepherd family zoo in addition to this. This was cramped, and Dr. Bailey hadn't even arrived yet.
“Thank you,” Judge Cobblebodum said. “That was most irregular. A party of nine. Hmph.”
“I should have read the stupid website,” Meredith said. “Stupid, stupid spontaneity.”
“It's not stupid,” Derek said.
“I dragged a ton of people out of surgery to not be my witnesses,” Meredith said. “How is that not stupid?”
Lexie rifled through her purse. “I can record it with my iPhone, so they can still see it.”
Meredith frowned, looking pointedly at the black camera dangling from Lexie's neck by a thick strap that had turned some of her skin a blushing, irritated red. “I thought you were taking pictures,” she said.
“I can take pictures,” Mark offered.
“But you're my best man,” Derek said.
“I'll take pictures,” Carolyn interjected. She stretched out her hand toward Lexie. “Hand me the camera, please. You can do your phone... thing.”
Lexie handed her iPhone to Mark and attempted to twist out from the camera. One of the thick buckles caught on her purse strap, which then stuck to her loose hair. “Ow,” she said, the camera in one hand. She didn't move, as if she thought she might disturb equilibrium and rip off her scalp if she did. Mark shuffled closer and tried to disentangle the disaster, a look of consternation crossing his face as he did so.
“This is like juggling,” Cristina said.
Mark snickered as he extracted Lexie's hair from the mess. “With fewer broken plates,” he said.
“Ow!” Lexie snarled. “And more pain!”
He flinched and squeezed her shoulder gently. “Sorry.”
“I didn't break any plates,” Derek said as Mark struggled with the camera. “Only you did.”
“Wait a minute...” Cristina said.
“You two juggle?” Lexie said.
Mark nodded. “For hand-eye coordination. In college.”
“Seriously?” Lexie said. Liberated, she spun free of the camera. Mark passed it to Carolyn and handed the iPhone back to Lexie in a one-two shot of motion.
Meredith raised her eyebrows. “Do you knit, too?”
“Derek knits?” Cristina said.
Meredith frowned. “I didn't say that.”
“You implied it by association,” Cristina said.
Lexie sniggered.
“Also,” Cristina said as she swept her judging gaze over Mark and Derek, “neither of them is saying no.”
Derek reddened. “Mom...”
“Sorry,” Carolyn said, grinning. “I couldn't resist.”
“When on earth did you have time to tell Meredith I used to knit?” Derek said.
Carolyn shrugged. “You slept a lot after you were shot, dear.”
“Shot?” said Judge Cobblebodum.
Derek bristled and then relaxed, as if the reminder of his ordeal had slid off of him like water. He gave his mother a wavering smile that lasted for a nanosecond, but it was better than what he would have been able to muster for her only a few weeks before. Without thinking, Meredith touched his shoulder. His soft shirt slid underneath her fingertips as she moved her palm down his bicep, past his elbow, along the soft hairs of his forearm, and interlocked her fingers with his. His larger hand closed around hers. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed her hand in return.
They shared a look. Had a conversation in silence.
I'm okay, he said but didn't say.
I'm glad, she replied. This is really big. Like hugely gigantic big.
It is. Are you sure you're okay with this?
Yes, she said.
The world fell away as she peered at his eyes and lost herself in the deep blue. He had an older expression than the one he'd worn in the days preceding his injuries. She hated that Gary Clark had taken what little had remained of Derek's innocence. Hated the bloody, open wound Gary Clark had left behind in Derek's optimism. But Derek was doing better. So much better. She saw so many glimmers where she hadn't seen them before, and she felt hope.
He said he was here, now. Not okay, but here. She believed him.
And she did like that.
Mark cleared his throat, breaking the moment. Meredith had no idea how long she and Derek had been staring at each other all freakishly moon-eyed. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, and she swallowed. Maybe, she'd made a mistake, pushing this along. Derek had only just started to iron himself out, and she didn't want that to get messed up. His family thought he was rushing things to the point of mental incompetence. Were they rushing things? Except they were already married. This was no different. Other than needing lawyers to undo it if things went entirely to crap.
Why did this feel different?
“So, should we start without her?” Mark said.
The judge raised his eyebrows. “Without who?” he said, sudden alarm tingeing his tone.
“Derek?” Meredith said, ignoring Cobblebodum. She took a short breath and exhaled, trying to relax. “What do you think?” She wasn't sure whether she was asking for his opinion about Dr. Bailey, or something bigger.
The judge slapped his desk before Derek could answer. The man's robes rustled as he shifted. Meredith still had to look down, even though he'd stood up. “There can be no more people in this room!” he said. “We only allow parties of six, to include the bride and groom!”
Cristina glanced at her watch. “I have surgery in two hours,” she said. “Can we move this along?”
“Did she say she was coming when you called her on the phone?” Lexie said.
Meredith sighed. “She mostly just yelled at me for interrupting an appendectomy.”
“Well, an appendectomy is short,” Lexie said, her tone hopeful.
“I don't think it was laparoscopic.”
“Well, it's... it's less long than lots of long things!”
“Oh, god,” Meredith said. “She's going to kill me if she comes. She'll find a way to get me stuck on scut work for a week.”
“She can't do that,” Lexie said.
“She's Bailey,” Meredith said. “She'd find a way.”
“But why?”
Meredith jabbed her thumb at Cobblebodum. “Because McJudge only wants six people in the room!”
The judge looked most affronted. “Those are the rules,” he said. He brushed his sleeves and sniffed.
Mark clapped Derek on the back. “I'm sure she'll make it, man.”
Meredith swallowed as nerves became nausea. This was bad. This was bad, bad, bad. “I kind of hope she's too busy,” she muttered faintly. She didn't want to have to explain that she'd been too stupid to read the rules on the website before calling everybody under the sun. Not to Dr. Bailey. Not after the woman dropped everything, including a man's appendix, to witness this very Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent event.
“The cake is probably gone by now. No need to hurry on my account,” the judge said with withering look.
“We're really sorry,” Meredith said. She rubbed her temples. She was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. So was Derek. She'd dragged him here with no forewarning straight from the OB-GYN appointment. This was a Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent event, and they'd shown up dressed for the beach. A cold beach, at least. Her bikini would have been a bit much. Well, a bit little, literally speaking. Not that she wanted a gown or anything. But she could have worn a dress. Or spent some time on her hair. Or anything. “We just wanted--”
“I'll call her,” Mark said. “Maybe, she's on her way.” Mark stepped out of the room, and the outside noise blasted Meredith's ears before the door slid shut. She felt a bit lightheaded.
“Is there a chair?” she asked. Somebody pushed one against her knees, and she dropped like a brick into it.
“Dr. Bailey will be here,” Lexie said. “I'm sure. This was just so last minute.”
Definitely last minute.
And possibly rash.
Was this rash?
“Why did you bump this up, anyway?” Cristina said, as if reading Meredith's conscience like a novel.
“Weren't you just criticizing them last night for the fact that they hadn't done it already?” Lexie said.
“I only pointed out that Evil Spawn's logic was logical.”
“I wanted to do it now,” Meredith said, her voice faint. Her hand wandered to her bellybutton and lower, and she rubbed in a slow, soothing circle to calm herself down. She didn't realize what she was doing until half-a-rotation into the motion, and by then it was too late.
“Oh, no,” Cristina said. “You saw the blob squirm on the ultrasound and got all goopy, didn't you?”
“It's not goopy.”
“It's kind of goopy,” Cristina countered.
“I'll have you know I'm still very dark and twisty!” Meredith responded.
Cristina sighed. “I think you lost the dark and twisty handbook.”
“There's a handbook?” Lexie said.
“If there is,” Derek muttered, “I haven't found it.”
Meredith's stomach flip-flopped again. This wasn't a mistake. Derek was feeling better, and they had a baby on the way, and she loved him more than her own life, and he loved her, and what was mistake-y about that? They'd only bumped things up by a few days, anyway.
Nothing was mistake-y, she told herself angrily.
This was just jitters.
Wedding jitters.
Oh, god. Cristina was right.
How had Meredith gotten to a point in her life where she could have wedding jitters? Men were merely bed warmers until a few years ago. But, now, she was marrying one in a Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent sense. She was pregnant and thinking goopy thoughts about babies.
Babies!
And why did she have to freak out at such inopportune times?
Mark stepped back into the room, cellphone in hand. “She's--”
Dr. Bailey stepped into the room behind him, her arms folded across her chest. She looked like she'd just stepped out of surgery. Literally. Her swept back hairdo had a dent from her surgical mask ties. She wore her scrubs and her white lab coat, which had a red stain on the sleeve that could only be dried blood. She looked at the room's occupants, gazing from Mark, to Lexie, to Cristina, to Carolyn, to Derek, to Meredith, and then to Judge Cobblebodum in the space of an eye blink. Her gaze didn't betray any reaction to the raccoon thing on Cobblebodum's head. She was tough as stone. “Well?” she said.
“Here already,” Mark finished as he pocketed his cellphone.
“You made it,” Derek said, a curious blend of relief and disbelief wrapped around his tone.
“Of course I made it,” Dr. Bailey said with a dismissive shake of her head. “Why wouldn't I make it?”
“No reason,” Derek said. His lips ticked upward at the edges. A hesitant, wavering smile. “Thank you,” he said warmly.
She glowered, as if to say, Don't get mushy, you big mousse head.
Judge Cobblebodum made an irritated clucking sound. “I cannot abide by having a seven person party in this room!”
“Well, that's a stupid rule,” Dr. Bailey said, turning to the judge. She pushed through the crowd, deftly dodging Meredith's char as she marched toward the desk, her arms still folded. The judge's gaze paused when he spotted the blood on her sleeve.
“It's a fire hazard to--”
Dr. Bailey's eyes narrowed. “We all survived a shooting four months ago by keeping clear heads. Do we look like people who panic?”
Cobblebodum blinked. “Well, no.” His gaze shifted to Dr. Bailey's state of dress, to her lab coat, where it said Seattle Grace Mercy West in blue embroidery, and then back to her face. “A shooting?”
“Yes, a shooting. Do you really expect us to trample each other if your waste paper basket suddenly catches on fire?”
Judge Cobblebodum reddened. “I--”
Dr. Bailey glared and leaned closer. “I know you didn't make me come all the way down here to kick me out of the room.”
“I most certainly did not,” Judge Cobblebodum said.
“Good,” said Dr. Bailey with a pert nod. “I'm glad we have that settled.”
“I didn't mean--”
“Didn't mean what?” Dr. Bailey said.
Judge Cobblebodum stuttered. Opened his mouth and closed it. With a slight sigh, he pulled an embroidered hanky from his robes and wiped his round face. The raccoon something on his head shifted to reveal a hairline that had retreated to the point of surrender.
Lexie's bubbly laugh made the little judge freeze.
Dr. Bailey peered at Lexie. “Do you have something to add?”
“No, ma'am,” Lexie said. She looked at her shoes as her face turned stoplight red.
Judge Cobblebodum sighed. “Let's just continue,” he said, the fight in his tone lost to resignation as he hid the hanky somewhere in his robes. “Do you two have rings to exchange?”
Meredith froze in her seat. “Um,” she said. Great. “We never really talked about rings.”
The judge frowned. “Vows, then?”
“Crap,” Meredith said. “Vows. I didn't do those, yet.” She looked at Derek helplessly.
Derek shrugged. “I wasn't going to write mine until tonight.”
The butterflies in her stomach picked up mallets, and suddenly she felt herself fighting back tears again. This was huge. Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent. They'd shown up in t-shirts after she'd gotten goopy and hormonal about a freaking baby. They didn't have rings. They didn't have vows.
Judge Cobblebodum sighed. “I assume this means we're just repeating the canned vows, signing the paperwork, and then I can go back to my empty plate?”
“No, we should totally have real vows,” Meredith said. She struggled to her feet. Her teeth chattered with nerves, and she wiped her face, conscious of free-flowing tears. “It's not real if there aren't any real vows.”
“Who on earth told you that?” Derek said, a touch of horror in his tone.
“Nobody,” Meredith said. “I just...”
She didn't have a chance to finish her thought because he pulled her into his arms. He pressed his forehead against hers. Kissed her. It was easy to forget she was standing in a room with a crotchety old judge and all of her friends.
The things in her orbit went dark around her except for him.
Just him.
She could pretend they had privacy.
“Maybe, we should wait,” he said, the words soft against her face.
“No!” she blurted, her fingers tightening like talons against his shoulders. “I want to marry you. Right the hell freaking now. I don't care if it's Big. You were shot in the chest while I watched, and then you almost died again from complications that arose from fixing that. You were so sick, and they treated me like your neighbor, and I don't want to do it again. If you die on me, I don't want it to be like that, and if I die on you, I want to know you can do the things I couldn't when you were sick. I don't care if it's rash or that we need lawyers if this all goes wrong; I need this. I love our Post-it. I love what it means, and that, in our little denial bubble, it was enough. But the Post-it isn't enough in real life. Real life freaking sucks.”
And there it was.
Silence stretched.
“What Post-it?” Cobblebodum said curiously.
Derek stared at her, gaze searching her face. His thumb brushed her skin. The side of her face. His lip twitched. Like he wanted to say something, but didn't know what it should be, yet. He settled on rubbing her back.
She panted, fighting off dissolution into completely crying all over him. She felt better, now. Calmer. All those jumbles of nerves had exploded out of her mouth. Jitter vomit. The butterflies had died. Her panting became longer breaths became deep, even inhalations and exhalations.
“Real life does suck,” he said. “Doesn't it?”
“I hate it,” she admitted miserably.
“Me, too.”
The bald honesty in his tone slayed her. Derek Shepherd shouldn't be dark and twisty. She closed her eyes and rested against him. “It sucks less like this.”
“It does,” he agreed.
“You're sure this counts with canned vows?”
“My fifty cynical years of experience say it counts,” Judge Cobblebodum assured them with, for once, no sarcastic bite in his tone.
Meredith sighed as their surroundings intruded, and the bubble she'd built popped. Derek's arms tightened like a cocoon around her briefly, and then he let her go. She wiped her face and clawed her messy hair out of her eyes.
“We could just repeat what we have on the Post-it,” Derek said, ignoring the judge.
“What Post-it?” said Cobblebodum. There was something different hovering in his eyes. Something less... bored.
“It was a thing,” Lexie said when no one else leaped to explain. “They planned to come here last year, but George died, and Izzie was sick with cancer, so they signed their vows on a Post-it note instead.”
“A literal Post-it,” Cobblebodum said.
“Yes,” Lexie said. “And don't you dare comment. They're finally here, and you're ruining it!”
“I was only curious,” the judge said indignantly. He glanced at Meredith and Derek. “Please, continue.”
“But I don't know what to say,” Meredith said, feeling helpless.
“You don't need to write paragraphs,” Carolyn said. “Why not just say something simple?”
Meredith frowned. “Like what?”
“Well, Derek, sweetheart,” his mother began, “what's the one thing you really want Meredith to know before you sign the paper?”
Derek blinked, as if the question had caught him by surprise. “I--”
“Wait!” Lexie snapped. She raised her iPhone and hit the record button. “Okay. Action!”
Derek stared at Meredith, an unreadable look on his face.
“Something you maybe haven't told her that you think she should know,” Carolyn prodded.
“I... only knitted the one scarf,” Derek said. “It wasn't an actual hobby.”
Meredith laughed and she felt herself loosen like an uncoiling spring. Derek's eyes twinkled. He'd done that on purpose. To put her at ease. Make her feel better despite how self-conscious she felt. He'd known to do that, and she hadn't asked.
She loved him. She really, really loved him. In a big, share the last piece of cheesecake way.
“Did you really not break any plates?” she said, staring at him.
“I juggled apples,” he said. “Bruised them all to hell, but didn't break anything. It's what you should know about me, I guess.” He winked. “I'm an undercover clown.”
“Not Batman?”
“Oh, I'm him, too,” Derek said.
Meredith laughed.
“I have got to hear this story later,” Cristina said.
“It really does help with hand-eye coordination,” Derek said.
Meredith smiled. “Being Batman?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
The judge cleared his throat. “Must we?” he said.
“Meredith,” Carolyn began, “what would you like Derek to--?”
“Wait,” Derek said, interrupting her. Mark, Cristina, and Lexie stared in a way that made Meredith think they should be shoveling popcorn.
Carolyn's eyebrows rose. “Yes?”
He shook his head, and he swallowed. “What I really want Meredith to know is... is...”
“What?” Meredith said.
“What I haven't told you that I think you should know is...”
“Yes?” she said, exasperated when he couldn't seem to find the words. He tilted his head to the side in that way he did when he considered her. He took in her face with his gaze as though he were memorizing every feature, which seemed weird, because she knew he already had it all memorized. He cupped her chin. His lower lip quivered.
“I'd do it again,” he blurted.
She frowned. “Do what again?”
“Get shot,” he said. “If it meant you would be okay, that you would be safe, I would do it.” His voice got thick and low, like he was fighting a deep swell of emotion. He swallowed. “Without hesitation. No matter what future it meant for me.”
“Oh,” she said, and gravity swept in. She didn't think she'd ever meant that much to anyone. Ever. “But--”
He took a deep breath. “Thank you for being patient with me,” he said. He pressed closer, eyes watery, but never breaking his stare. “It means more than anything to me that you're still here, and you still believe in me, even though I can't figure out how to believe in myself most of the time. Every day we're together, I find more to love about you. You're like a lightning strike. Whatever happens between now and the day I die, I'll never find another you, and I wouldn't want to. You're the love of my life, and I'm really looking forward to spending my future with you.” He swallowed and took a short, hitching breath. “That's what I want you to know.”
“Oh,” she said as her innards sank into her shoes. She blinked at him. “Crap.”
“Crap?” Derek said, eyebrows creeping upward. His voice was thick and hard to hear. Like he'd almost been swept away in the emotional sea that had already capsized her.
She shook her head. “I can't match that...”
He smiled. Cleared his throat. “You don't have to match anything. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to.”
“I want to,” she said. She took a breath.
“One moment,” said Judge Cobblebodum.
Everybody turned toward him.
“Do you all know Detective Wolff?” he said.
For a moment, Meredith couldn't place the name, though it sounded familiar.
“Yes,” Derek said, the word soft.
And that was when it hit her. Detective Wolff had tried to interview her after the shooting, but she'd been less than helpful. She'd been too wrapped up in Derek nearly dying to deal with Alex nearly dying, and there'd been way too much nearly dying in general for her to want to recount her experience to a third party. She'd just... snapped in two when he'd called. The Detective had been warm with her, though, warm and understanding, and had never bothered her again.
“He tried to interview us,” Meredith said.
Cobblebodum nodded. “My son-in-law,” he said. And then he fell silent for a long time. He fiddled with his embroidered hanky, which, at some point, he'd pulled out of his robes again. He twisted it in his hands until it wrinkled.
“Sir,” Derek said. “I--”
“Shh!” said Cobblebodum. “I am deliberating.”
And the silence stretched. And stretched. Meredith glanced at Derek, who looked back at her and shrugged, a curious frown on his face. The gavel crashing on the striker plate was a loud sound in a small space, and the thunder of the motion made him flinch and bump into her. He reached for her shoulder with a shaky palm to steady himself.
“I've decided,” the judge announced, oblivious to Derek's discombobulation, though Derek seemed to unwind in moments. Meredith ran her palm against Derek's spine. The warmth of his skin seeped through his shirt into her palm, and he relaxed against her. The judge turned to Lexie. “Young lady,” he said. “Why don't you show the three gentlemen back into the room?”
Lexie gaped. “But I thought it was a fire hazard,” she said.
The judge peered at her. “Would you like me to change my mind?”
Lexie shifted toward the door, no further encouragement needed.
“Ray would be really happy to hear you're doing well,” Cobblebodum said simply after she'd stepped out. “He worked... very hard on that case.”
Meredith stared at Coddlebodum. “Thank you,” she said, the words thick and low. “Thank you, I...” She could barely contain the ready-to-cry that had lodged itself in her throat like a giant melon. And then a thought bounced in her skull. She looked at Derek. “Will you be okay?”
He looked at her with his bright blue eyes and winked.
She watched him as Owen, Richard, and Alex filed back into the sardine can behind Lexie. Derek stiffened. She felt it in his muscles. Saw it in his frame. But he kept staring at Meredith as though she were his life boat, as though he'd taken her existence and made that, alone, his replacement thought to carry him through the moment. He inched closer to her, as if he were trying to preserve a small bubble of untouched space around his body. Nobody in the room begrudged him that bubble. In fact, people seemed to be squeezing against the bookshelves and the furniture and each other, just to give him space, like they knew, even if they didn't know, what he needed. When the door whispered shut once more, he seemed mostly on an even keel.
Just by looking intently at her.
This man who would die for her.
She wasn't used to feeling like she was worth so much.
“The faith you put in me is freaking terrifying,” Meredith whispered. She reached for his face. Twisted a soft, curly lock around her index finger.
They shared another endless look.
I don't want you to be scared, he said but didn't say.
I'm trying not to be, she replied.
He winked at her. I'll be patient.
She laughed aloud, breaking the spell. Everybody stared at her. “Sorry,” she said. “It's nothing.”
“Meredith,” Carolyn said, prodding. “Is there something you'd like Derek to know before you sign the papers?”
“Um.” She struggled for a thought. Any thought. Anything half as nice as what he'd said about her. “I really hope our baby has your hair. That gene would be a shame to waste.”
Derek chuckled, and she blushed. She needed something better. Something that would mean something. This was their wedding. Their Big Gigantic Huge Monstrously Permanent wedding.
“You make me want to be better at all this goop stuff,” she said. “But I'm not. I'm dark and twisty and me, and it means a lot to me that that's okay with you.”
His gaze softened.
“You're worth it to me, Derek. But if you ever get shot for me, I'll kill you.”
His eyes sparkled when he said softly, “I'll try to do that sparingly then.”
“Good,” Meredith said.
He picked up a pen off the desk. “Should we sign, now?”
Judge Cobblebodum gestured mutely at the paperwork.
“I love you,” Derek said as he signed. He handed her the pen he'd used.
Meredith gripped it. Felt its weight in her hands. And then she signed the paper, too, relishing the whisper sound of the ballpoint sliding on the paper. “I love you,” Meredith said, an echo of him. She leaned into his arms after she relinquished the pen and watched the next few moments stuck in a haze of pleased lethargy.
This was really it.
Mark signed the document next. “I don't love either of you,” he said. “I'm just the witness.”
Cristina followed. “Yeah,” she said as she scribbled her name. “What he said.”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “They're lying.” The judge frowned. Lexie pointed to Mark and Cristina. “Them,” she clarified.
“Do you ever take a break from ruling the Land of Sickening and Sweet?” Cristina said.
“You'll find out if you keep snarking, you big pessimist,” Lexie replied.
“It's good that we all love each other,” said Judge Cobblebodum, only a hint of sarcasm riding on his voice as he signed on the last line. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
Meredith looked up. Met Derek's eyes. He smiled at her. Their fingers intertwined. He leaned closer. They kissed, and the flash of the camera captured the first moment of the rest of their lives.