A Fight to Remember

Scared to Lose You Pt.1

Derek, last night.

Meredith fell asleep after we made love, and I softly stroked her hair while I watched over her. She looked so peaceful. She always looked that way when she slept, but this was different somehow. Even the sex had been different, I reflected. Different in a good way. It had been... I stroked my chin, thinking... meaningful. The whole day had been about that.

That I meant it.

To be with her. Even when old, senile and smelly. And when I made love to her just now, it was different than the last two times. Because it wasn't about me wanting her, or her showing herself to me... it was...

A promise to myself.

To keep my promises to her.

I'd run before. Under the guise of 'space,' when we lost Zola.

She pushed me away, too. When I hurt her too much, when my ego got the better of me. When I couldn't get perspective, I let her push me away. I let her dictate the terms, and that almost broke us more than once.

I sighed and rolled over on my back, thinking.

Meredith had Alzheimer's. My wife was really quite sick. I remembered years ago, when she got tested, she'd been adamant that she didn't want to live with this disease. And I'd been just as adamant that we'd figure it out together.

We never got that chance. She lost me instead. And then...

Meredith shifted, her small form curling toward me, and the snores started. She was deep asleep. Finally. With the back of my hand, I brushed loose blonde tendrils out of her face before I kissed her nose, and then I pulled the covers off and got out of bed.

I just needed perspective.

I made my way downstairs to the kitchen, not exactly in the headspace for sleep. Maybe there was some tea or something. The kitchen light was on, and light beamed in from the living room entrance. I shuffled in, wondering who was up.

Zola.

"Hey," I said to my eldest as I sat down at the counter.

Her smile spread soft and slow over her dark skin as she noticed me. "Hey dad..." She poured some water into the kettle and set it on the stove.

"Mm," I sniffed, she was cooking something... whatever it was... it smelled amazing.

"I'm baking muffins. Maggie's recipe. Her mom used to make them all the time. I think the boys will love it."

I blinked, "The boys?" I asked.

"You know, B.D and Julian?"

"Oh," I nodded. "Right. How is B.D?" I knew the tumor extraction had gone perfectly, but I'd been so wrapped up in my own recovery and taking care of Meredith that I'd forgotten.

"He's doing really great. Dr. Peters said he could probably go home tomorrow actually."

"Really?" I smiled. That was wonderful news. The kettle whistled and Zola pulled a couple of mugs down from the cupboard.

"Want some hot chocolate?" she asked, scooping some powder from the can.

"Sounds great," I said. Hot chocolate with my daughter would be great. I watched her prepare the quick drink, adding some milk for creaminess. "Thanks for bringing me back," I said as I accepted the red mug she offered.