Aftermath

Part 7

I shuttered and squeezed my eyes shut. I traced the halls of the hospital in my mind, and came to the conclusion that I had to get across. This was the only way to Derek's office. There was no one around me, I was safe, I was fine. I tried to push the images out of my head and focus on my breathing. I had to calm myself down. After a few minutes, I felt my heart rate come back down to normal.

 Slowly, I took steps across the catwalk. The police tape and blood stain from my husband were gone. It was clean, it was normal. Only it wasn't normal. And it was probably never going to be normal again. 

I started quickening my pace, until I was at a run. I sprinted across the catwalk, not wanting to be there for any longer than I had to. Finally, I reached the office. I opened the door and slammed it behind me, pressing my back to it and breathing heavily, trying again to calm down.

Once I had collected myself, I found a box and started slowly packing things off Derek's desk into it. A picture of his family, and a few of me. I looked at them for a long moment before packing them away, taking in how happy we looked. I wondered if we would ever be like that again. 

When the top of his desk was cleared, I opened the drawers and started to empty them as well. I found mostly supplies and random little things. In the last drawer, there was a bag with a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and a razor in it. I smiled, knowing he would appreciate these.

I sighed and picked up the box, now heavy with his belongings and walked out of the office, leaving the door open behind me. I shut my eyes and walked alongside the railing of the catwalk at a fast pace. I couldn't even manage a glance at the ground where Derek had been. When I reached the elevator, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, but my heart was still pounding. 

Eventually I reached Derek's room, which was empty now except for him, laying in his bed staring at the ceiling. 

I shut the door behind me when I walked in, drawing his attention. I set his things down on a small table that was also in the room and turned to face him. He frowned, looking into my eyes. I was sure the fear was still present, no matter how badly I wanted to or tried to hide it.

Derek opened his mouth to ask me something, probably what was wrong, but before he could ask I cut him off.

"The catwalk," I managed. 

His face softened, and he shifted in his bed, patting the now open spot next to him for me to sit down. I obeyed, and cuddled against him.

"The only way I could get to your office was by crossing the catwalk," I whispered as he stroked my hair.

"But you did it."

"Barley. I almost had a panic attack right then and there," I admitted. 

The arm he had wrapped around my squeezed, pulling me in closer.

"But you didn't. You calmed yourself down, and you did it," I could feel him smiling. 

I took a deep breath, not responding. Talking was hard. It was all hard. Growing up, no one had really cared about my feelings, so I learned to push them back down or conceal them, and I was pretty damn good at it, except for when it came to Derek or Christina. 

He pressed a kiss on my forehead, and I felt his stubble.

"You need a shave," I giggled. 

"I know, I know. Sorry," he laughed back.

I pulled myself from his arms, fishing the bag with his clothes in it out of the box of belongings I had retrieved for him.

"Clothes, toothbrush, razor," As I listed the contents of the bad, the smile on his face grew.