If I Knew Then

This Time

By Absent Heart

This is just an introductory chapter that gives little away, it just lays the first piece of groundwork for this story, and i am posting this to find if there is any interest for it as I am currently on Chapter Five ... So if you would like more, hit me with a review...

So here goes, I own nothing, never have and never will etc...

This Time

Part One

The act of closing the Shepherd's heavy front door silently was an art form Meredith Grey had mastered as a necessity by the age of sixteen. It took a sharp flick of the left wrist on the handle to stop the latch catching, as the right hand kept it steady. All muscle memory now fourteen years later, as her body leaned back to guide the door into the frame smoothly rather than the scrape, and slam it was notorious for. Meredith only allowed herself to breath when she was away from the front porch, and had reached the fence that separated what had once been her childhood home, from the Shepherds. The well lit drive, the more obvious route to the street was off limits. Numerous near misses over the years had taught her that she would be left wide open to any of the house full of people happening to pass either of the large bay windows, and that was the last thing she needed.

The particular panel she wanted, looked like all the others to unknowing eyes, and she doubted the current owners of her mothers old house even knew it was there. However to her it stood out as if a huge flashing neon light was attached. It was still what it had always been, physical proof she was wanted. A reminder that there were people who loved, and wanted her in their home. Michael Shepherd had fitted the hinges, and turned it into a makeshift gate for her twenty five years ago, within weeks of Lizzie first bringing her home. In use without fail nearly every day for nearly a decade, it had been her own escape from the cold, sterile atmosphere she had thought was normal, into what had seemed a magical world of love and laughter. The gate had become obsolete when Ellis had died, and Meredith who had just turned fifteen had her whole world turned upside down. The birthday had been like many before that Ellis had forgotten, which had lead to them not exchanging more than two words in the days up to her death from a massive heart attack.

Still to this day she could remember the seeping cold that had settled into her body the day before her mothers funeral when Carolyn had called her downstairs to find Thatcher had arrived with his new wife Susan. It was like being awoken abruptly from a dream, and cold hard reality shoved down your throat before you were ready. There had been no thought prior of what would happen to her once the dust was settled, and Ellis was laid to rest. Her whole mind had been set on the fact, her mother was dead. The Ellis Grey who had always seemed so strong, formidable, almost indestructible was actually gone. That that was how their story ended. There would never be a chance to show her mother who she was, to prove to her that she was the force of nature Ellis had wanted her to be. They would never fix the relationship, and she would never get the chance to make Ellis proud.

Sat with a Shepherd on each side, both of Carolyn's hand clasping hers, with Michael resting a hand on her shoulder, Meredith had known they were both not only showing support, but trying to stop her from bolting. So Meredith had sat rigidly straight, expressionless, and listened to Susan talk about the whole new life waiting for her in Seattle with her two half sisters. The words meant kindly had barely made an impact, compared to the reality of having her father in front of her for the first time in a decade. To this day she had only ever trusted Derek with how up until that very moment she had still clung onto the childish daydream that Thatcher hadn't left her willingly. How it had been her mother who tore them apart, and for all of those years he had been trying to find a way to come back to her. She had whole heartedly believed somewhere there was a drawer full of unopened cards, that he had never gotten over losing his daughter.