Outside of Fear

Chapter Thirty-One

Meredith bursts through the front door of their house nearly in a full-blown panic attack.

Derek, who was sitting at the table, is up and at her side instantly. He provides her space, not touching her, but tries to make eye contact.

She's breathing heavily, uncontrollably, fear wild in her eyes. "Derek-"

"Meredith, calm down. You need to breathe. Look at me, okay? I'm here, you're here. We're both safe." He maintains a calm, low voice, one he knows usually does the trick for situations like these.

"Derek- I'm afraid- I'm terrified- I can't-" she stutters, unable to form a complete sentence.

He steps closer to her. "Can I touch you?"

Meredith gives him a tiny nod, and Derek instantly pulls her into his arms. She's so tense, he pulls her head down to his chest, making sure her ear is resting over his heart. This, he's learned, also usually does the trick.

"What are you afraid of?" He soothes, rubbing his hands up and down her back gently, grounding her.

Meredith doesn't answer, still struggling to breathe in his arms. He takes deep, exaggerated breaths, encouraging her to do the same. Meredith mimicks them to the best of her ability.

When she can finally speak clearly, she forces her words out, "I'm afraid...I'm afraid of me."

Derek frowns, pulling back abruptly to look at her. "You're afraid of yourself?"

Embarrassment flushes through Meredith as she nods, still catching her breath as she sinks into a chair at the kitchen table and puts her head in her hands.

"I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you."

Derek's confusion deepens. "What? You? Hurt me? I'm at least twice your size."

Meredith's expression darkens and hardens. "Just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you can beat seven years of training and experience in hand-to-hand combat."

He steps back again. Why the hell didn't he know she was trained in fistfighting?

"I have flashbacks all the time, Derek. When I'm there...I have no idea what's happening here. I always, always search for my gun first. How fucked up is that? I search for my gun. Then, when I can't find it, I prepare to defend myself with my hands. I'm so terrified of waking up and thinking you..."

"I'm a bad guy, and you try to hurt me?" Derek finishes for her. Meredith only nods.

They fall silent. There's not really anything Derek can say to that. He opens his mouth and closes it again, trying to come up with something. But Meredith says something first, looking up at him with teary, guilty eyes.

"I-Teddy gave me this brochure...it's a support group. For injured veterans. They meet tonight. I think-I think I'm gonna go. I think I need to go. I can't feel like this anymore."

That night, Meredith takes a deep breath, then slowly pushes open the door and steps into the cool room. She stands in the back for a moment, taking in the soft conversations of about twenty people standing or sitting throughout the room. On the back wall near her is a long table with coffee, refreshments, and other small snacks. The chairs are scattered in an imperfect semicircle in the center of the room, facing a podium.

Derek drove her here, and she knows he's going to sit out in his car until she's out of sight just in case she changes her mind. 

Unsurprisingly, Meredith suddenly wants to leave. She steps back, feeling stupid for even wanting to come in the first place. She swallows thickly and turns to go back out the door when an amused voice stops her.