Do you take thee...?

Your Hand In The Palm Of Mine

I was wheeled into his room and every feeling of guilt and regret filled my brain. I was drowned by mixed emotions. I wanted to, I needed to, see him and make sure he was okay but then I would have moments in the short period of time it took to get to him, where all I wanted to do was forget it had ever happened and not have to speak to him. There he was, so helpless, all the surgeons and doctors in the world couldn't do anything more for him. He had to pull through on his own. He was the only one who could save him. Inside I was ruined and had every bit of pain finally roll out of my eyes and into our space. There we were. Just Meredith and Derek. Bailey and Webber had now left the room and were stood outside, still being cautious of his state but with their backs to us giving us privacy and giving me space to grieve. I didn't need to hear what he had experienced internally, I knew enough to bring me enough dread and guilt of just seeing him. I wailed silently just staring at his peaceful yet unconscious face. The tube that was in his mouth allowing him to receive oxygen and live was the only sound that could be heard. The quiet in the room was deafening. Not like how a hospital normally was and the contrast from what we had heard hours before was unbelievable. I picked up my hand from my lap, wiped away what tears had already fallen from my eyes and gently placed mine on top of his, making sure not to move his IV. His hands still as soft as the had always been. But there was still blood underneath his fingernails. My blood. The blood that had seeped through my hair from my head and now laid under his nails. I slid my fingers subtly under his palm and held his hand in mine. My eyes having switched focus, were now staring at his closed eye lids, hoping for a miracle.

'Derek, you've got to be okay. You have too much to live for just to give up, do you understand me? You saved my life and I wish with all my strength that I could save yours but I can't, this is up to you.' I said whilst trying to hold back my tears just enough so that I could actually speak. Bailey must've heard me or witnessed my lips moving. She came in and explained to me, as much as I didn't want to hear it, I knew I probably should so that I understood everything that was going on.

'He had an intracerebral haemorrhage as a result of the blunt trauma to his head from both the force of the car and the force that you were both thrown to the ground. He had a seizure just before we put him to sleep and he had no oxygen getting to his brain until we managed to stop the brain bleed successfully. You know what the prognosis of a good outcome is. 20% Meredith. That's his main issue but he did experience broken bones obviously and he had also coded on the table but thankfully we were able to save him. Everything is so uncertain Meredith.' Bailey informed me with the most sympathetic voice. I got angry from the news and blamed myself so much that I took some of it out on her.

'Get out! Go!' I yelled at her and in the present moment did not feel any regret from it even though I knew she was only doing her job. The job that I was going to eventually be doing. Giving someone the worst new of their life. The news that would determine the outcome of that person's life. Possibly the news that would bring down their life was unimaginable to anyone that wasn't in that person's situation.

'Derek you've got to live because then I would've killed you. I didn't let you go. You were dead in my arms and I didn't let you go. I didn't let them help you. So I would've killed you if you don't wake up. I needed to help you myself and now I can't so you need to do this for yourself. Please Derek. Derek come back to me, we've got our whole life ahead of us and you need to be in mine.' I sobbed to an unconscious being, now gripping his hand tighter and tighter with every tear that fell. My head dropped to his bed side with my forehead resting on his arm. The same arm that I had performed my first ever actual sutures on. He was my first patient and here he was again. A patient but on his death bed. 

Whilst my hand's were still securely wrapped around his, trying to make him as much comfort as he had made me feel when his arms were wrapped around my waist, I felt something on my hand. With my eyes still closed, I rolled my head up off his arm and watched my hand in case anything happened again. He rubbed his finger up against my palm and at that moment, I had never been so relieved in my life. The slightest of movements brought me so much joy from what I had been and it made me feel like things might be okay. 

I guess I was wrong. Very wrong.

I didn't say a word but I turned my eyes just in time to see those dreamy eyes again. His blue eyes barely open but just enough so that I knew he wasn't dead. He wasn't breathing on his own but right at this moment it didn't matter that that was a step he hadn't yet overcome. He was alive. And I was alive. Or so I thought. He used those dreamy, blue eyes to show me affection and trust. I found myself replacing my hand onto his chest and my other on his forearm. I quickly changed the position of my hand so that it was back in his. So that I could be there for him and he knew that I was there. His palm again in mine and the comfort overwhelmed me that I began to cry. Then we were interrupted and it was over. Just like that, he was ripped from me once again.