A Fight to Remember

Breakfast Pt. 3 (A Boy In My Bed)

Derek. (Right where we left off.)

After Cristina's talk with me, I remained at the trailer to sober up and to think, prepare. I would need to remember to be patient, and I would need to plan. I called Zola and got some information about Meredith's trial, her doctors, and her meds. Zola also mentioned Meredith had an appointment the day after tomorrow at the Allen Institute.

Then I wrote a list.

I'd win her back, my wife. I'd remind her, in more ways than one that I was her husband, that I loved her, and I wasn't leaving.

On a blue post-it in the trailer, I wrote my ideas down and smiled.

But first, I had to actually show up.

xxx

It was late when I arrived home, and the evening drizzle was enough to sprinkle my hair and dust my shoulders. Bailey was sprawled out on the couch, watching a surgical tape.

"Hey," I greeted.

"You came back," he said, pausing the video.

"Yeah... I um," I hung up my coat and strode over into the living room to sit across from him. "I'm sorry. I just... I needed-,"

"Space?" Bailey finished.

"Yeah... Just... to think..."

"S'cool." My son replied.

"It's cool?" I repeated.

"Just... don't do it again."

I swallowed and met my son's intense grey eyes,"I won't." Bailey nodded and turned his attention back to the tv, turning up the volume. "What are you watching?" I asked.

"Mom's old surgery tapes. The drug trial she worked on... her method... was unique."

"Hm," I leaned back in the chair and watched for a few minutes. "Any progress in the last ten years?"

"It's been slow, and confusing. Nothing significant yet, small animal tests..." he shrugged.

"Mm," I stood up. "I'm going to check on Meredith, and... Bailey..." I looked carefully down at my son, "I'm here to stay."

"I know," he replied, a scarce whisper.

xxx

I went upstairs and stood in the doorway of Meredith's room. My wife stretched out on her side of the bed, her hair askew, one arm hanging over the side, the other over her abdomen. In my love filled eyes, she was an angel that fell from heaven.

I'm a girl with abandonment issues. You have to sleep with me from now on.

Her snores didn't bother me. In fact, as I recalled, it was her absence that used to keep me up at night, not her comforting presence. Sighing softly, I entered the room. Above the bed, as always, was the post-it. I wondered how often she looked at it, how much she'd seen it. It was faded, the blue bleached by the sun, and the once glistening ink now dull and sullen. I picked up the framed post-it and set it on the table by my bed.

After I changed into a pair of sweats, I tugged on the covers and slipped in beside her. Meredith shifted and I stilled, anxious of her fluttering gaze upon me, but a second later she rolled on her belly and her snores continued.

Curled on my side, I watched her sleep, and waited... to drift away.

But as my thoughts quieted, and my breaths shallowed, as my eyelids grew heavy, Meredith turned in her sleep once more, facing me.

I dared to reach across the gap. The pads of my fingertips touched her silky hair and drew the strands behind her ear. With my thumb, I caressed her warm cheek.