Where You Belong

26

Derek collapsed heavily into a free desk chair at the nurses' station, silently thanking anyone who was out there listening that Burke had been able to move his fingers. He had been unable to gain perspective before going into surgery, had been unable to properly distance himself. All he could do was empathize with the injured surgeon, all the while wondering what he would have done in the same situation.

Would he have had the surgery?

So much of who Derek was revolved around what he did for a living. He was a surgeon; a very good surgeon. He saved lives. He made a difference. He needed his hands.

Preston Burke was an arrogant man with a God-complex, who hogged the ORs, but he too made a difference. He too needed his hands.

And if Derek had operated and failed...

He sighed and buried his face in his hands, reminding himself again and again that the surgery had been successful. He had removed the aneurism and Burke still had hand function. As long as Burke stuck to a solid physiotherapy program and any problems were detected quickly, he should regain full function. He would be able to operate again. Derek had been successful.

But the expression on his co-workers face in the OR haunted him. His eyes had been glazed from the anaesthesia, but nothing could mask the defeated, terrified look. His mind may have been sluggish and his memory foggy, but he had known. He had known what was going on. He had known the surgery was not going as well as could have been hoped. He had known there was a good chance he would never operate again.

Burke had been lying, vulnerable, on the table, surrounded by co-workers, with the knowledge that he may be about to lose a huge part of himself, that his life and job and everything he had worked so hard for could disappear, right in front of all of the people who respected him for what he did. All the while his girlfriend cowered in the corner, unable to look at him.

Whether Burke had been aware of Cristina's presence, Derek didn't know. He couldn't imagine being in the same situation, couldn't imagine having no control over whether he would ever operate again. And he could only hope that if he ever were, Meredith wouldn't cower in the corner. He hoped that she would be right beside him, holding his good hand and meeting his eyes. He would need her right beside him, holding his hand. He needed her.

She had promised him that she was strong enough to be there if something was ever to happen to him. She had promised that she wouldn't walk away. At the time, when everything was good between them and there were no potential problems like this weighing heavily on his mind, Derek had accepted her promise and been glad. Now, however, he was grateful. Just the thought of losing her from something he couldn't control... Well, that scared him more than the thing he couldn't control.

With a heavy sigh, Derek lifted his head. He needed to go and check Burke in recovery. He wanted to be there when the other man woke up. But first, he really needed to find Meredith. She would be able to calm his anxious mind; even if she didn't know what to say, she would hug him or smile or squeeze his hand, and that would make everything better.

As if she had heard his thoughts, he felt her eyes on him. He looked up and turned to the right, immediately meeting her tired green eyes across the hall. Relief coursed over him at the realization that he would not have to go and find her; that she was not in surgery or with a patient or somewhere else he could not get to her. She was right in front of him. Then he furrowed his brow as he realized she and George were sitting together on the floor, and she had not made a move to get up and approach him.

Pushing himself out of the chair, Derek wandered across the hall to her. Her eyes tracked him the entire time. "Hey," he said softly, and nodded a greeting to George.