Aftermath

Part 15

We drove home in silence that night, holding hands as we walked in the house and made our way to the bedroom. Derek went to start changing and I hopped in the shower quickly. 

When I got out, Derek was just sitting in bed, in only the dim light from one of our bedside lamps. He looked tired and sad. Exactly the way I felt and probably looked the first few days after the shooting.

I got in bed next to him, pulling the covers up to my shoulders and laying my head on the pillow so I could look at him.

"You okay?" I asked quietly. 

He glanced at me, then went back to staring off. 

"I could've helped you," He murmured. 

"What?"

"If you had told me, I could have helped you,"

I propped my head up with one of my arms. 

"You needed to focus on yourself, you getting better. I couldn't have you worrying about me all the time,"

"You were alone, Mer. I can't even imagine how hard it must have been,"

"Cristina knew. And Jackson, April, and Owen,"

"You told them before you told me?" He turned to look at me, anger flashing in his eyes.

"No. Owen was shot. April and I took him into the OR next door to treat him and that's when it happened. They witnessed it. When we were finished treating Owen, we went back to you and I asked to sit by your head. Everyone saw the blood, it was obvious,"

The anger disappeared and was replaced with understanding. I sighed, knowing what I had to say next.

"The only reason the gunman didn't shoot me...after I begged him to, he pointed the gun at me, and Cristina yelled that I was pregnant. This was before the miscarriage, and he wouldn't shoot a pregnant woman. He shot Owen instead, and then Jackson unplugged your leads to make it look like you died to get rid of the gunman,"

"Oh, Mer,"

"My world fell apart Derek. I watched you die on that table. I couldn't tell you that I lost our baby while you were laying in a hospital bed trying to recover from being shot,"

My voice started to break as I spoke, but I refused to let myself cry again. 

"When the gunman left, that's when we took Owen to the other OR to treat him and...it happened. I guess, all the stress or whatever from that day caused it,"

Derek stared at me, pity in his eyes as well as tears. I swallowed back my own, putting on a tough front for him. 

"Don't look at me like that, I don't want your pity," I whispered. 

He shook his head, wiping the tears off his cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed me deeply. A long, desperate kiss. A kiss full of love. Gratitude to be alive, to have each other. 

When he pulled away, he turned off the light and I inched toward him in bed. He pulled me into his arms and I felt safe. Hopefully he did too. 

"So your nightmares, are they about the baby?" He whispered.

It took me a long time to figure out how to respond to that. I didn't want to talk about the nightmares. I had done enough emotional talking and crap that day.

"Yes. And you. You always die, and so does the baby. Sometimes I die too," I whispered back.

He squeezed me in his arms when I said this. 

"We're okay. We survived,"

"We survived," I repeated. But so many others didn't. We were lucky. Even our unborn baby died.