Endless Summer Nights

18.

Meredith opens her eyes, only to be surrounded by the darkness. The thick covers and the central heating are protecting her from the biting cold that she has grown so used to. She isn't sure why she is awake. She doesn't feel the need to vomit like she has the other times she has been yanked from her blissful return to her endless summer nights in the arms of Derek.

She turns and looks out of the window and sees the large snow flakes slowly descending to the earth that is already clothed in a layer of white. Everything in the outside world looks so pure and smells so clean, but she sees it as desolate. She sees it as dead. She sees it as suffocating.

She used to love the snow. She used to love going outside by herself and plopping down on her back as she extended her arms and legs before moving them back and forth in her attempt to make the perfect snow angel. Her nanny would stand at the door and watch her. Her nanny would make her a hot cup of coca after she came inside. Her nanny would tuck her in to bed snug as a bug to keep her from getting cold.

She gasps as a sudden sharp pain travels from her back to her abdomen. It is a tightening sensation and a pain unlike any she has ever felt. She clamps her hand down over her mouth, fear taking hold of her. She doesn't want to wake up the Shepherds. She doesn't want to be a burden, but she knows that she needs to get to the hospital. Maybe she can call a cab.

She throws the covers off of her body and swings her legs over the side of the bed, praying that her son is okay. Needing for their son to be okay.

She plants her socked feet firmly on the cold ground before forcing herself off of the bed. Even though she has only suffered the intense pain once, her legs are already weak and begin to shake violently under her weight. She places her hand on the bedside table to support her weight. She inhales deeply as he tries to force herself to move. She needs to get downstairs. She needs to get to the hospital. She can't wake up the Shepherds.

She slowly begins to make her way around the large room, walking next to the wall so that she is able to support herself. She makes it half way to the door when she feels another sharp pain. She covers her mouth with her hand as it rips through her abdomen, stifling the whimper that escapes as her frail frame shakes as the earthquakes ripple through her body. She leans her forehead against the wall as she waits for the pain to subside. Fear now holds an even tighter grip on her as the pain has increased in both intensity and in time.

She remains leaning against the wall even after the pain has subsided, tears trailing down her cheeks. She is alone. She is all alone. The Shepherds may be in the next room, but her lover her is lost like Waldo in one of those damn "Where's Waldo?" books. Except he can't be found on every page, but only once throughout the entire book that consists of thousands of pages.

Her breathing is somewhat labored as she pushes herself off of the wall some ten minutes later and continues her journey across the guest room. She finally reaches the door after what seems like forever. Her hands tremble violently as she turns the knob and walks out into the dark hallway of the strange house. She shuffles her feet as she crosses the hallway to the opposite wall, hoping to find support in their structure. She doesn't even think about how she is going to get down the stairs, all that she knows is that she has to.

She takes a few steps and is right in front of the Shepherd's door when another pain shoots through her body, this one even worse than before. Her knees give out under the strain of the pain and she can no longer stifle her cries as she meets the floor on her hands and knees. One hand immediately finds her cramping stomach while the other supports her upper body weight. She sobs violently as the pain continues to ripple like crashing waves.

Her chin is tucked down into her chest, so she does not see it when the door next to her is opened quickly. Her own sobs and the throbbing of the blood vessels in her head occupy her hearing, so she doesn't hear the stunned gasp or the shuffling feet of the room's previous occupants. She doesn't become aware of their presence until she feels a comforting hand on her back.