Running Up That Hill

A.N. Hey, sorry it's been so long, uni has been crazy! It's a little short, but it's something! Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Three:

It was like his worst nightmare come true. As he sat on the chair in the small office that had been assigned to him upon his arrival from the East Coast, he was haunted by the visions of her lying on the floor in front of him, completely helpless. And that was how he also felt at this moment, completely helpless to do anything but stare at the wall in front of him. He hadn't even been able to get to his office alone, even stand up from where he had been knelt on the floor in the corridor; Bailey had had to help him, before rushing off to find out what was happening with Meredith. Meredith who deserved none of what he had put her through. Meredith who would have been better off for having never met him. Meredith who was, without a doubt, the love of his life. Meredith who was now lying in a patient bed, instead of being the one to look after patients. He had tried to think of something else, but his mind was stuck on her; Meredith, Meredith, Meredith...

He was so caught up in his own world of thoughts of her that he never heard the door open, and so wasn't aware of another presence in the room until they spoke. Addison. There wasn't a person in the whole hospital who he wanted to see less than her right at that moment. She was shouting at him, but he wasn't actually paying any attention to her; nothing that she could say to him could make him feel any worse than he already did. He knew now that it was time. This had gone on for long enough. He couldn't live a lie anymore. He reached into his desk drawer for the papers that he had never bothered to dispose of, handing them over to her without saying a word. She took them from him, finally stopping the noise that she had been making, knowing exactly what he wanted from her. It was inevitable really; she had always known that he would regret not giving her up when he had the chance, and yet this had surprised her. Still clutching at the papers, she turned on heel and silently exited the room, leaving him to his thoughts again.

He lost track of how much time had passed. It was immaterial anyway. He knew that Bailey would come to let him know what was going on when she found out herself. So he waited, and prayed. He pleaded with God to let her be ok, that it wasn't too serious. He didn't want to think about the possibility of death, but his mind kept betraying him, straying to such thoughts continually.

His head snapped up as the door opened once again and he breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that the figure in front of him was not that of his soon to be ex-wife. Instead he found himself face to face with Richard Webber, Chief of Surgery, who was actually looking at him sympathetically for a change.

"Bailey got an emergency page, so I promised her that I'd come to talk to you instead," He told him, "She's going to be alright Derek, it looked bad, but it was only a concussion, it just appeared worse because she's so weak; she's obviously exhausted and her blood sugar was through the floor when it was tested. Otherwise she's physically fine."

He was understandably relieved; however he also knew what the Chief wasn't saying. Emotionally speaking, there was no way that she could be fine right now. The killer for him was that he knew that this was his entire fault. Question was, what was he going to do now to sort it out? Richard was talking again, but he wasn't really registering the majority of what was being said. In fact, the only phrase that he did actually register consisted of two words; follow me. And so follow he did.

He was vaguely aware that all eyes were upon him as he followed Richard silently through the typically crowded halls of the vast surgical floor, but he really didn't care for the gossip just then. He had more important things on his mind, so he kept his eyes on Richard alone, following his lead as though his life depended on it.

Opening a door up ahead, Richard stepped to one side, ushering him into a private room away from all of the prying eyes. He took a deep breath and focused on the figure lying on the bed in front of him, pale as a ghost, though not quite to the same extent as the last time he'd seen her.

He was vaguely aware of Richard muttering something about having other places to be, as well as the door opening before closing once more, leaving him alone with the woman on the bed, the love of his life. He wandered closer to the bed, drinking in the sight of her, alive, and yet as beautiful as she had ever been. He reached out to stroke her face, relishing the feel of her skin beneath his fingers for the first time in so long. He found that in that moment he finally felt complete. He couldn't believe it had taken so long. Why had this been what it had taken to make him realise just how much he loved and how big of a mistake he had made in letting her go in the first place.

Feeling ashamed of himself, and unworthy of even looking at her at that moment, he turned away from the bed and walked over to the window. Staring out of the window at the Seattle skyline, he tried to get his thoughts in order. Meredith was alive and soon enough she would be back on her feet again. Half an hour ago, that was all that he could wish for, but now...well, now he didn't know what the future would hold; would she even want to have anything to do with him anyway?