Who Would Have Thought

Chapter 1

flashback 12 years ago

The key shook in his hands as he stood at the door of his apartment, another wave of nausea coming over him. Tonight was the night. Derek Shepherd didn't have a choice anymore. Tonight was the night. Mark and Addison were at the hospital, he had somehow managed to get home before midnight, her shift at the bar had ended an hour earlier. No matter how bad her day had been, this was it.

It. It was never supposed to get to the point where it was it. It was never supposed to get this bad because he loved her. He had fallen for her the day they had met and he loved her still. He kind of figured he always would. But this was it. This had to be it. Even as he swallowed back another wave of nausea and squeezed his eyes shut, he knew he had to end it. There was no choice in the matter.

For weeks he had been trying to find another way. He had tried to talk to her, had tried to get her to talk, had tried to be there for her. But she was a mess. She was a mess and he just...he didn't know what to do anymore. He loved her. He loved her desperately, but love wasn't enough. Not now. He couldn't try to clean her up, not when it hurt this badly.

He was tired, he was more tired than he had ever remembered being. His internship was killing him. His relationship was killing him. His relationship that was supposed to be perfect and at some point it had been, some point it had been everything he wanted. And now it just hurt, it hurt constantly. Loving her was exhausting and it had to end. He had to walk away even if it killed him

He just had to walk into his apartment, where she was probably curled up on the couch, possibly already drunk after a long night of bartending, of men buying her drinks. Or, if there was any luck, it had been a hard day with her mom and she would be sober, but completely unresponsive. Neither choices were ideal, but he knew it was all he could expect from her right now. And it was exhausting.

He wanted her to be better. He wanted her to be the cute giggly girl that had served him in the bar ages ago, that for no reason he had given his number to. He wanted that girl back. Instead he got tears and drunkenness and going into some dark place in her head where he didn't get any access. He wanted to fix her, he wanted to help her but she wasn't letting him. And he was fed up.

He slipped the key into the lock, turning it carefully as he tried to breathe. He had to do this. It was going to hurt, it was going to kill him, but he had to do it. He had to end this. She was probably expecting it. There was no way she could think this was normal. The fights, the avoidance, his sheer need to stay at the hospital longer than necessary...she couldn't think this was normal.

She would be okay without him, she would get through this mess even if he walked away. She had to. Because this couldn't be helping her. They had stopped being a happy and healthy couple so long ago he could barely remember the good times. Or he could, he remembered them in painful detail. But that's all they were, memories. So she'd be okay after he left.

"You're home," she said as the door opened to reveal her coming from the kitchen, a tub of ice cream in her hands.

"I'm home," he nodded, trying to smile but failing miserably. He looked at her carefully and frowned when he realized he had no idea how she was feeling. There had been a time when he could read everything in her eyes.

"Hmmm," she nodded slightly, moving to the couch, pulling her legs up under her. It wasn't the first time the need to grab her and shake her had come over him, but he couldn't believe how violently it rose up in him tonight, forcing him to tighten his hand over the handle of his briefcase. There had been a day when she had kissed him hello, had welcomed him home with a kiss so seductive, his clothes had been off in seconds flat. He couldn't even remember the last time it had happened.

"So umm..." he cleared his throat, dropping his briefcase and shrugging his jacket off. "How was work?"

"It was work," she shrugged, taking a bite of her strawberry ice cream. "You?"

"It was work," he echoed. He couldn't remember the last time he had sat down and told her about his day. There had definitely be a time that after the welcome home sex that she would curl up beside him and they'd spend hours talking about how their days had been.

"Are Mark and Addie still there?" she asked softly, shifting slightly. She was uncomfortable. They were uncomfortable around each other.

"Yeah, they are," he nodded, dropping on the couch and staring at his hands. He couldn't touch her. He couldn't remember the last time they touched.

"Oh," she breathed. "I um...my...I saw my mom today."

"Oh...umm...how is she?"

"Stupid question, Derek."

"Sorry, just...asking," he shrugged.

"You're into neuro," she shrugged. "A patient comes in with a brain tumor the size of a baseball in her temporal lobe. How do you think she is?"

"Meredith, I was...I'm sorry I asked," he shook his head.

"She accused me of trying to kill her today," Meredith said, standing up from the couch to go back into the kitchen, presumably towards the tequila. "But you know...she's great otherwise."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Yeah," she echoed as she came back in with the tequila, falling back onto the couch.

"We need to talk."

"Derek..." she rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."

"No, not about..." Derek sighed. Rip off the bandaid, it was definitely best if he just ripped off the bandaid. "We have to talk about us."

"Us?"

"I think we should break up," he murmured.

"What?" her hands shook as she tried to pour herself a shot of tequila.

"Meredith, I...I love you," he sighed, swallowing hard as he felt tears prick his eyes. "But this is...it's not working anymore. This...it hasn't been working in a while."

"Seriously?" she stared at him. "Seriously?"

"I know it's crap timing. I know this is the last thing you need right now, I get that," he whispered. "I don't want to hurt you more than you're already hurting but...this is hurting. Being with you and...it's hurting. I need it to stop hurting."

"You...you need to stop hurting? Seriously? You? You need it to stop hurting? Why? Because your life is so crap right now? Because your mom is dying? Because you can't figure out...because you work in some crap ass bar being molested by...you need to stop hurting? Really, Derek? Really?"

"Meredith...I know, trust me, I know," he murmured. "You have no idea how much I know. I don't want to do this."

"Except you're doing it," she rolled her eyes. "I can tell it's killing you, Derek."

"I...I love you, you have to know I love you," he whispered, blinking back tears. "I just...can't."

"Why don't you just tell the fucking truth?" she demanded, standing up. "It's really easy. Meredith, I don't love you anymore. Meredith, I want to be like Mark and fuck the nurses at the hospital. Meredith, I want to see other people. It's really...it's that easy, Derek. So stop trying to be...you and just be an asshole. If you're...just be an asshole."

"Mer...no, no that...do you have any idea how hard the last few months have been?" he hissed.

"No, Derek, tell me how hard the last few months have been. Tell me because apparently I've been missing out on the hardness of the months or whatever."

"When's the last time we had sex? When's the last time you told me about your day? When is the last time we did anything that resembled being a happy couple?"

"We're...we're a happy couple."

"We're miserable," he sighed. "You're...I know you're going through a lot, Mer. I get that. But....you're...you don't let me help you. I don't even know how to help you at this point. I don't know what else to do but end this."

"You might want to consider actually showing up," she rolled her eyes. "Because you made that whole cheesy and...we had sex, Derek. We have sex. And if that's all this is about then...we can have sex. We can have sex right now if that's the problem. Or maybe the problem is that you're just a complete jackass because your girlfriend's life is shit and you just...you don't care. You don't care."

"I care!' he groaned. "I care so damn much, you don't let me care. I try to be here, or at least I did. But you just...you don't talk. Or you get drunk."

"You did. You did care and then...I can't even believe you're...you're such an ass. A complete and total ass."

"Meredith, do you have any idea how hard it is to love you? Because I do, I love you so fucking much. And if I could stop, I would. But I can't. So I have to walk away," he sighed. "This relationship is killing me."

"It's...so it's about you? It's about you and your...what about me? What about the fact that my mom is in a hospital dying and all you fucking do is work. That's it. All the time. It's always work just like...seriously, Derek? Seriously.

"I'm an intern," he snapped. "What else do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know...be around."

"So you can ignore me? So you can go into that little place in your head that I'm not allowed in?"

"You go into the Dereky place all the time."

"You did it first," he shook his head.

"Oh that's really mature, Derek," she rolled her eyes. "Are you going to go run and tell your mom I stole your cookie now or whatever?"

"Meredith..." he groaned, running his fingers through his hair. "Can you honestly tell me that you've been happy with me in the last few months?"

"I...that's not the point."

"Really? You want to be in a messed up relationship?"

"It's not...it's not messed up."

"It's not quite the picture of health and happiness," he rolled his eyes.

"Which is completely my fault, right? Completely my fault and I should change and be more bright and shiny for Dr. Derek Shepherd?"

"No, it's not your fault," he shook his head. "With...it's not your fault. But that doesn't make it better. That doesn't mean we should be together."

"So that's it?" she frowned, her hands on her hips. "You're just going to...you're supposed to be good at this. You know I'm crap at this. You know that and you're supposed to be...you said you'd help. You said things, Derek. Big huge things that I...you said you loved me and you know Im crap at the whole love thing and you're just...I can't even believe this."

"I...I meant those things, Mer," he whispered, feeling a tear spill down his cheek and not bothering to wipe it away. "This wasn't how I wanted this to end, this wasn't what I had ever planned for us. I wanted to be there, I wanted to help. But...I'm tired and I don't know what else to do."

"You weren't there. You didn't help. You just...and now you're ending this. You're ending this twelve hours I get the news that the surgery didn't get the entire tumor and my mom...you're ending this when I have no idea...you're ending this. You're ending it and I'm supposed to just say okay? I'm supposed to be okay with this? Because...you're ending this."

"Your...they didn't get the whole tumor?" he breathed.

"No they didn't get the whole fucking tumor."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his shoulders shaking slightly. "I'm so fucking sorry about everything. I...I tried to be there, Mer. I tried so damn hard. I know the last bit I haven't but I was and...I hate doing this to you."

"No you fucking don't."

"You have no idea how much this is killing me."

"Right. It's killing you. Everything...it's you. It's always you."

"Meredith...I don't, this isn't about me," he shook his head. "This is about us and how we're not...we're not us. We haven't been us or healthy or happy. Being with me...it can't be helping you."

"Stop it, Derek," Meredith shook her head. "Just stop...stop pretending you give a shit anymore."

"I wish I didn't give a shit. This wouldn't hurt as fucking much if I didn't give a shit."

"It's easy not to give a shit," she shrugged as she reached for her sweater. "Just...don't. Just be you and be an ass and...just don't give a shit."

"Meredith, I'm sorry. I didn't...this was supposed to be forever, it's just...so hard. So damn hard."

"How do you say that? How do you say...how do you say forever and then just..." she shook her head quickly, slipping her shoes on. "Izzie will come and get my stuff tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice catching. "I never... I never wanted this to happen."

"Stop talking, Derek."

"Okay," he nodded. "I...you hate me now, I get it. It's...I probably deserve it."

"Probably? You...you come home and you...just stop. Stop talking. Stop being you and stop...just stop."

"Okay," he whispered. "I just...I hope...be okay...okay? You have to....get through this."

"Stop it," she hissed. "Just...I said stop talking. Because you say things and it...and I can't just walk out and I need to walk out. I need to get out of here and just not...I need to not see you or hear you or smell you or...I don't need you. So just stop. Stop talking."

"Okay," he nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Okay."

"I just...you can't...and I..." she took a deep breath as a tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly. "You...you did this. You ended it and I...I need to go."

"I know, I know," he nodded.

"I just..." she shook her head again, her finger tips on the doorknob as her small shoulders shook. He hadn't seen her cry. Through out the last few months, as her life had gotten progressively worse, he had never seen her cry. And now she was sobbing. And he couldn't do a damn thing. "I don't even..."

"I'm sorry," he shrugged through his own tears, surprised to hear the shakiness in his voice. "I didn't ever want this to end. I really didn't."

"Stop it," she pleaded. "Stop..." And then she was gone, the door slamming firmly behind her as he heard her run down the steps.

He let his own sobs take over him then, let the tears fall freely as he looked at the bottle of tequila she had left behind. She was gone. Meredith was gone. He had ended it and she had been devastated. He had been devastated. Because he had thought they were going to be together forever. When he had met her, that was supposed to be it. He was supposed to be her forever.

She was supposed to be the woman he couldn't live without. She had been everything to him. For the past year, she had been his entire life. When they had met, ti had been easy. This had all been so damn easy. And now he wasn't sure what was worse. Staying with her while she fell apart in front of his eyes, or never seeing the love of his life again.