Pounding. Thumping. Explosions. That's all I can hear inside my thick stubborn skull. From the pain radiating through my body I know that god is punishing me. Punishing me for being stupid, selfish, hypocritical, and just plain mean. I have been such a bitch worrying about my own problems that I haven't noticed Derek has been dragged through the depths of hell waiting for me. waiting for me to wake up, waiting for me to stop being selfish and raise my kids. our kids. just thinking about my three kids opens the floodgates. Jesus it feels so good to cry just to let every thing out, all the bullshit I've been carrying around. I've never been one of those Hollywood women who cry like they've stubbed their toes, I have an infamous ogre cry. Tied together with a blotchy face, runny boogers, and a howl that dogs in Alaska couldn't bare. I don't know if the liquid running down my face is salty tears or bland boogers, and I honestly couldn't care less. there is a famous saying that 'no matter how strong a woman is, they always have a breaking point' and this is my breaking point. When most women cry they don't cry for one thing, they cry for all the accumulated shit that has been thrown at them. I cry for my broken family, I cry for my broken marriage, I cry for my children, but I also cry for myself. it feels so good relieving any kind of pressure that has been building on my chest, slowly I can feel bits by bits falling down and I can feel my self getting lighter. I don't know where I am and I don't care if I wake anybody up from their slumber, hell I don't even know what day it is.
I feel a big warm hand clench around my frail body, awkwardly pulling our bodies together. I don't feel safe in them. I feel scared and their arms around me feel foreign and hostile. Who has their hands around me? and why was the opportunity presented to them? where is Derek? where am I? I'm as stiff as a board, my sobs are disturbingly loud, my face unusually wet. I don't like how I feel pressed against them and I don't like how I feel emotionally. I shrug them off, but their grip tightens. I do what comes naturally, instinctively. I scream. I release a blood curling, murderer holding you at gun point scream, loud enough to tear the paint off the walls.
"GET OFF!!GET MY HUSBAND!! GET OFF I DON'T KNOW YOU!! PLEASE LET ME GO!! CALL DEREK!! I DON'T WANT YOU TOUCHING ME! please let me go...." The last sentence coming out as a raspy whisper. "Please I don't like you touching me..." and I make my body limp, making myself heavier. when I touch the carpeted floor I curl up into a ball, making myself as small as I can and just cry. I haven't been able to stop since I've woken up, I know I need to stop or I'll get dehydrated, but I just can't they flow out of my eyes like water flowing out of a dam that has been broken. "Call my husband... I want my husband" I sob onto my knees. I can't feel or see the stranger, and i don't know whether to be relieved or scared. I hear hushed voices a soft angelic one and a masculine gruff one. the only thought that enters my mind is, Bonnie and Clyde. the criminal lovers. I think that they are going to rape me and skin me alive. and more sobs come out of my mouth. I sense a light presence next to me, about the same time I hear the soft voice calling out to me.
"Meredith you need to stop crying, you'll get dehydrated." they urge me. but I can't, I need to release all my sorrows and if the only way is through my salty tears then so be it. I shake my head as I cry into my thin hands. they mysterious woman tries to take me into her arms but I don't want to be touched. so I let out another blood curling scream, and cry harder. she immediately releases me and goes to her lover, or so I assume. they are huddled away from me talking in urgent hushed whispers. he rebuttals and she snaps back at him. he stomps away and she comes to my side again. she brings a hand to my head and tries to stroke my honey shoulder length hair. and when I flinch back so does she. I don't want to be touched why can't they understand that?
"Derek!!" I wail. I need Derek, and although I don't want to be touched I strongly hope he can stop my rare water works. Jesus why can't they fucking call him!? Jesus some one sedate me before I die!

YOU ARE READING
Complications
RomanceMeredith Grey is a 28 year old single mother with a beautiful 3 year old baby girl, Alexandra Caroline Grey. They moved to Seattle three days prior to escape her idiotic crazy obsessed husband Finn Rogers , a 34 year old veterinarian. Derek Shepherd...