Dreams On Fire

Swallowed In the Sea

Their friends had all pitched in to send them on an actual honeymoon, since they hadn't gone on one the first time, so that's why Sunday morning Meredith found herself in first class on a flight to Cabo. Derek was next to her on his laptop, doing some research and typing furiously beside her so she laid her head back and closed her eyes. She still hated flying; it completely freaked her out, especially if she thought about how much she had lost that day in the woods. She tried to shake it off and pulled down the hem of her dress and closed her eyes.

Soon enough they had landed, and the pair waited for their luggage at baggage claim. It was beautiful and sunny, and she couldn't wait to get out on the beach. With their baggage in tow, they hopping on the shuttle to the airport and settled in, not knowing how long it would take.

An hour later they arrived at the hotel, which really only consisted of the main room with the front desk and such, and behind it were private bungalows with their private stretches of beach. They checked in and got their keys to their bungalow, and continued on outside, rolling their suitcases along the pathways until they reached Bungalow #2. Derek unlocked the door and they stepped in – it was absolutely stunning. It had a full kitchen and dining room, a huge living room, two bathrooms, a giant fluffy bed, and just outside there was a pool attached to the deck, which had two lounge chairs. The beach was at the bottom of the deck stairs, with the ocean not even 100 feet away. Meredith was in heaven.

She put her suitcase on the floor and opened it, pulling out a black bikini and changing into it rather quickly. She was anxious to get on the beach with a good book.

"Hey Der, you coming to the beach with me?" she said, finding her sunglasses in her purse and sliding them on the top of her head. To her dismay she found him on his laptop, hooked up to the Wi-Fi. She sighed and scrunched up her nose at him. "Der, it's our honeymoon," she said, a bit whiney but she had a pointe. Derek sighed and looked up at her, feeling guilty.

"I'm doing research so we can do a new Alzheimer's trial," he admitted to her. While she was touched that he was beginning preliminary things and she wanted to be a part of it, this was their honeymoon and she wanted to do things with him.

"Okay," she said, feeling defeated as she grabbed a beach towel and headed outside. It was hot and as she lay down on their private beach with her book, she couldn't believe she was far from Seattle, where summer was 75 degrees with a chance of rain every single day. She spent most of her day on the beach, and when she felt she was probably burned to a crisp she headed for the pool outside the bungalow, where the water was cool and felt great. She could see inside the living room and sighed; Derek was still searching away on the laptop. She was trying so hard not to let it bother her but she couldn't help it. The never got away from the kids or hospital, and here they were with no kids or no hospital, and he was sitting on the computer.

Climbing out over the pool, she squeezed out her hair and wrapped the towel around her so she didn't drip all over the place. Heading inside the bungalow she stopped beside Derek, trying to be sweet.

"So how's everything coming?" she asked, dropping the towel. Despite her C-section scar, she had a tiny, lithe body and she was trying to distract him, to no avail. He glanced over at her before looking back at the computer, and she tried not to blow up at him.

"I've only found a few things, it looks like we're going to have to start our own project," he said with a small sigh. Meredith nodded slowly.

"Well, I'm going to take a shower," she said coolly, flitting off to the bathroom in frustration and showering. They had dinner reservations at another resort that night and part of her wondered if he was going to show up.

After her shower she put on her bra and underwear, blow-drying and styling her hair before picking out a silky blue halter dress and sandals, carefully doing her makeup. She entered the main room to discover Derek had changed while she showered and she had to smile.

"Hey you, I'm ready," she smiled, and he stood up and gave her the McDreamy smile, which she knew forgave everything, the smile she loved and hated at the same time. He took her hand and they left their little home for the next week, heading to the main building to catch a car to the other resort.

Much to Meredith's dismay, the entire week was like the first day. Derek sat on the computer doing work, and she sat on the beach, getting angrier and angrier as the days passed. She felt like she was on a honeymoon by herself. She'd had enough by now. Storming into the house she slammed the outside door, storming over to Derek and slamming his computer shut.

"Look here, Derek. We have a week off without the hospital or kids. We're in one of the nicest places in Mexico, and you've spent the entire fucking weep cooped up in the house doing research? Seriously? You have got to be fucking kidding me. For fucks sake, we're in paradise. Get of your computer and go outside. Make love to your hot wife on the beach. Or in the pool. Or in the shower, or maybe on that insanely sexy bed we've been sleeping in. I don't give a fuck what you do, but you're not going back on that goddamned computer," she spat out angrily, before storming back out of the house and onto the beach, where she threw a dress on over her bikini and sat in the sand, her hair blowing in the wind as hot tears ran down her face. She loved Derek but hated when he pulled this crap.

It didn't take long for Derek to find her crying on the beach. He sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him, letting her cry. This was his fault; he had fucked up on their one chance to be by themselves and have a romantic vacation and he blew it. Sighing, he ran his fingers through her hair and spoke.

"I'm sorry I fucked up," he said quietly, as she glared at him.

"You're damn right you fucked up," she said, but she didn't move away. She was just angry. There was no romance, there was no fun, no excursions, it had just been her sitting on their lonely private beach for a week while he typed away at his computer.

"Let me make it up to you Mere, please?" he said, practically begging. She looked at him, tears staining her cheeks, her mouth tight.

"How? How could you possibly make this up to me!?" she shouted, standing up and yelling at him. "You acted like I didn't exist, Derek. We've been married five years and together for eight and you acted like I didn't exist, like work is more important. Work could've waited a week until we were freaking home!" She turned around on her heel, kicking up sand as she stormed into the house. Changing into pajamas she slammed the bedroom door and climbed into the bed. That was all for tonight, she felt like, as she raged under the blankets. She felt all she was going to do was yell at him if she was near him. Tears ran down her face again as she cried herself to sleep, hoping he figured a way out of the deep hole he had dug for himself.