Endless Summer Nights

45.

Derek stumbles through the door sometime before dawn. His eyes are blurry and his head is already aching. He somehow makes his way to the kitchen and opens the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and not even noticing the frozen figure sitting at the bar eating black olives.

He doesn't notice her until he turns around, the light from the open refrigerator illuminating the whites of her wide eyes. He grunts a rude acknowledgement before allowing the door to fall shut.

"What are you doing up?" he asks a bit harshly.

Meredith blinks slowly as she stares at her black olives. "I...and...the baby...black olives..." she stutters as tears sting her eyes.

Derek narrows his eyes as he watches her hand run slowly over her swollen abdomen. "Right," he mutters as he takes a long swig of his water.

Meredith's eyes narrow as she looks up at him. "What the hell is your problem?" she whispers angrily.

"My problem?" he asks indignant as he takes a step forward. "My problem is that you knew and you didn't tell me. I might have had a son that I didn't know about. That is my problem!" he practically yells, causing Meredith to flinch.

"But you know. You do know now! Just get over it and stop being as ass," she tells him as she pops a black olive into her mouth.

"That's easy for you to say. You don't happen to be in love with someone who can't trust you farther than she can throw!" he says as he slams his bottle of water onto the counter, water splashing everywhere.

Meredith's eyes widen as she stares at him in shock.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" a tired and angry voice asks.

Meredith turns to Dr. Shepherd. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Shepherd," she whispers as she stands up and looks at him apologetically.

Mr. Shepherd smiles at her. "You are fine, dear. I was directing that question at my idiotic and obviously drunk son," he says warmly before turning to glare at Derek.

Derek throws his arms up in the air. "Fine. Take her side," he says angrily.

"There are no sides here, Derek. How old are you again?" he says in a low voice.

"Whatever," Derek mutters as he attempts to walk past his father, but he doesn't get far. His dad grabs his upper arm, halting his exit. "What the hell?" Derek slurs.

Mr. Shepherd turns to Meredith. "Why don't you take your black olives upstairs, Meredith? I will like a word with my stupid son in private," he says as he tightens his grip on Derek's arm.

Meredith nods mutely as she grabs her black olives and heads upstairs, her heart sinking at Derek's words and behavior.

"What the hell are you doing, Derek?" Mr. Shepherd asks tiredly as he releases his hold on Derek's arm.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Derek responds before taking another drink of water.

"I am talking about you ruining what could possibly be the best thing that has ever happened to you. I am talking about you storming out of the house like an infant throwing a tantrum and then drowning your problems in scotch like an alcoholic. That is what I'm talking about," he father tells him angrily.

Derek sighs as he sits down in the seat previously occupied by Meredith. His head falls forward onto the marble bar. "I don't know," he mutters tiredly. "She didn't tell me. She knew and she didn't tell me," he whispers.

Mr. Shepherd sits down next to his son. "And why do you think that is?"

"She didn't trust me. She didn't want me in her life," Derek says sadly.

Mr. Shepherd laughs. "If she didn't want you in her life, she would have aborted the baby. She was hanging on to you the only way she knew how. You know her mother, Derek. She has trust issues that have nothing to do with you."

Derek sighs as he lifts his head and looks at his father. "Yeah," he mutters.

"Get your head out of your ass before its too late," his father tells him as he pats him on the back.

"I'm still angry," Derek tells his father's retreating back.

His father turns back to him. "And you have every right to be, but that anger isn't going to go away by brooding. Talk to her about it, calmly, and tell her how you feel without accusing her. Don't hurt her, Derek. She has been hurt enough," his father says softly before leaving the kitchen.

Derek sits alone in the dark, thinking about what his father said. He can't help but smile at the cute look on Meredith's face as she angrily popped a black olive into her mouth. She is a force to be dealt with, he just has to figure out a way to approach her without letting his temper get the best of him.

As he rests his head on the cool marble, his eyes begin to drift closed. His last thoughts before drifting off into a drunken slumber are the things he has to be thankful for as the light dawns on his first Thanksgiving as an expectant father.