Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dylan had wanted to hate her, the intern in ER who foolishly stuck her hand in the chest cavity after that paramedic ran away, but he couldn’t. Because hating her for that would mean hating that part of himself, and Dylan had long grown past hating parts of himself that would never change. And he knew really why he wanted to hate her:

She put herself in harm's way. It was as simple as that. She was a civilian. Young, supposed to be selfish, and instead of running like a sane person, like a normal person, she had done what he and the other people he worked with were trained to do, not run from the danger but weather it.

He wonders how she is as he sits in the hospital bed, nothing wrong with him other than a few scratches and the most minor of concussions he’s ever had or heard of, from when the bomb went off and how hard his head knocked into his arms when he threw himself down. Instincts that will never go away or fade, kicking in at the exact right time.

He straightens as best as he can in the hospital bed at the sound of a light knock, “Come in.” He calls, voice slightly rough from debris entering the air, the dryness of the air in the OR.

The door opens slowly and there she’s standing, a nervous look on her face. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He can’t help but smile, “I’m alright. For what it could have been, I’m very lucky.”

She nods, stepping in and closing the door behind her as she slowly approaches his bed. “I also wanted to say thank you.” She struggles with the next words. “You kept me calm.”

“Of course.”

They stare at each other, and he nearly laughs at how her eyes also dart towards his vitals just as much as they dart around his body, clearly cataloging everything. He nearly tells her to go for it, to read his chart, to knock herself out, but stops as the last phrase enters his mind.

“I’m Meredith, by the way. Meredith Grey.”

“Intern at Seattle Grace.” He smiles at the way her cheeks turn a bit pink. He hadn’t realized before, never realized these sorts of things when in high stress situations on the job, but she was beautiful. More beautiful than he thought doctors could be. “Dylan Young.”

“Head of the bomb squad.”

He laughs at the dryness in her voice and then immediately coughs. “Fuck.” He tries to breathe, to clear his throat but can’t and then there’s a cup of water being put in his hands.

“It’s from the debris, right?” She says as he drinks, but before he says anything else, she continues. “And the dry sterile air in the OR? It gets all of us at first when we do our first full time OR shifts.”

“Us? But not you?” He sets the cup on the tray.

“Maybe.” She shrugs and there’s something sad in her eyes even though she’s somewhat smiling. “My mom was a surgeon, this place was my playground.”

He nods but doesn’t reply. There was something there that hurt her, and he wasn’t about to pry.

“So, what do people do when they aren’t allowed to work for two weeks?”

She grimaces. “I have no idea. You're off for two weeks?”

He nods. “Usually I'm just always on call in case of a bomb threat, but after this,” he waves a hand. “Two weeks off.”

“I’m off for two weeks as well. Apparently, putting your hand in a chest cavity and then getting knocked out by an explosion earns even interns two weeks off.”

He sits up a bit more midway through her sentence. “You got knocked out?”

Her hand flies up the back of her head as she nods. “Small bump on the back of the head.”

He hisses. “I think I prefer my concussion.”

Dylan eyes her, the dark bags under her eyes, mostly likely from being an intern, the wariness in her body, the constant shifting of her weight between her feet. It was all familiar. “Do you live alone?”

Her face sours, nose wrinkling and mouth pursing. “No.”

The immediate sourness makes him hesitate before he speaks again. “You shouldn’t be alone for a while, a few days at least. Your body is still on high alert, and it might take more than just one crash before you come down, and you’re not going to want to be alone for any of that.”

He knew that from experience. The Navy had prepared him for it, but it still made the comedowns hard. He had thought when he left and joined SWAT in Vegas that the adrenaline rush wouldn’t affect him anymore, not after two tours, not after nearly ten years of being in the Navy. But he had been wrong. The come down had hit him hard, nearly smacking him in the face, since he hadn’t been expecting it. He hadn’t made that mistake again, and it had partially earned him a spot on the bomb squad there after two years of SWAT as he simultaneously went through all the training needed for being a part of the bomb squad.

“I have two roommates, interns.”

Her voice breaks him out of his thoughts and now his face sours, “Anyone who can stay with you? Or you can stay with them? Friend, boyfriend, family?”

Something flashes across her face at the last word, something he’s seen countless times before on others faces, and she shakes her head. “No. Being an intern doesn’t leave time for friends and no boyfriend, either.”

He doesn’t mention her not saying anything about family as he tries to think of something. It’s not like she could just take up a bed here while she came down from the aftershocks of adrenaline, and he doubted that she’d want to stay here any longer in the first place as something other than a doctor.

His mind flashes to his house, it was large for just one person and while he had neighbors, no one really talked to each other. It was a fairly quiet neighborhood, no kids, no loud noises, no random parties. It was a weird sort of haven that he managed to find himself nearly three years ago between Seattle and Renton. It made for a bit of a commute, but he knew that he’d have the same if he lived in the actual city and the noise day in and out, no escape even when home, would have driven him away.

“Stay with me for a few days.” The words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

“What?” Her mouth drops open and then suddenly she’s looking at him amused. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“And I thought you didn’t like me.” He returns.

Her eyes narrow. “We barely know each other.”

“We don’t. But you obviously don’t want to deal with your roommates, and I feel more comfortable knowing that for the next few days someone is with you.” Dylan then smiles at her, “Besides, we both have a whole two weeks off and no idea what to do.”

Her eyes stay narrowed at him, but he can see her thinking about it. “I can’t cook, and I’m terrible at cleaning. And I’ll probably talk about surgery more than you’d like.”

He shrugs, “I like to cook, and you’ll be a guest, you won’t be cleaning. And as long as you don’t try to operate on me, we’ll be okay.”

—

Meredith had pictured her two weeks off very differently. She had imagined badgering Bailey to come back earlier, bugging Cristina about cases, ignoring the weird worried looks from Izzie and George when they couldn’t remember to be mad at her, Alex’s snark about doing barely any work while he nudged at her to eat more, she hadn’t expected what actually happened.

Really, she hadn’t expected Dylan to happen.

And as she enters the locker room for the first time in two weeks, her eyes immediately search for Cristina. With Meredith out, Cristina had happily taken on a bunch of extra work, which meant that Meredith hadn’t been able to see her, and it didn’t feel right to tell her what happened over text or a call.

Cristina is her person. You don’t tell your person important things over the phone. She remembers telling Dylan that and waiting with bated breath for him to laugh, roll his eyes, but he had nodded. Asked her to tell him how it goes after she did it.

“Meredith.” Cristina sounds so relieved that she has to smile as she joins her at their lockers. “Please tell me you have a meal bar?”

Her hand easily dips into her bag and presses two into her outstretched hand, already knowing she’d want some. “Brought extra. Thanks for covering me.”

She scoffs. “A bomb went off near you. The hospital couldn’t have you work after that. I’m just surprised that you didn’t show, begging Bailey to let you back.”

“It wouldn’t have worked anyway.” She says with a slight sigh, as she opens her locker up and throws her bag and her jacket in, the latter which she had pulled off when she had first walked into the hospital.

Her eyes dart upwards to the clock in between the bathroom doors, three minutes left till the shift starts, and for once Cristina isn’t rushing to go and the locker room isn’t crowded. It felt like a miracle.

“You remember bomb guy?”

“The guy that saved your life?” Cristina throws her a look, an eyebrow piqued in interest. “Vaguely.”

“He didn’t save my life.” She half-heartedly protests as her bottom lip finds itself between her teeth for a second, before releasing it. “I stayed with him for the past two weeks.”

“You slept with him!”

“Shh,” Meredith hushes her as Cristina starts to laugh. “And yes, but it wasn’t like that.”

“Like what?” She snorts. “Like sex?”

They start to walk, to meet with Bailey. “No, like just sex or like Derek.”

“So, he’s not married.”

“First question I asked.”

Cristina gently pushes her shoulder. “Look at you. Bomb goes off, you get two weeks off and come back with a boyfriend.”

Meredith presses their shoulders together at the way Cristina just knows that she and Dylan are together now. Didn’t need to hear the exact words.

It’s quiet between them as they get closer to where Bailey will appear any second when Cristina speaks again. “What does Derek think?”

“He doesn’t get an opinion and there’s no reason for him to know. He’s married, maybe not happily, but they aren’t separated, so my personal life isn’t his business.”

“You actually mean that.” Cristina looks a bit in awe, and a little shame fills Meredith. Her person had never hid her disdain for Derek and the hold that he seemed to have had over Meredith, but she had also supported her despite that. “Good. He wasn’t good enough for you. And I don’t know much about bomb guy yet, but so far I like him better already.”

“Dylan. His name is Dylan.”

“Dylan.” Cristina repeats, nodding. “I like him already.”

—

“How’s it been?”

“I’m on scut.” Meredith pouts, head leaned back against the wall, as she watches people get in and out of their cars. The cool air felt nice against her skin after being in the ER that had been more overfilled than normal.

“I’m on paperwork.”

“So we’re both having bad days.”

“Hey, these are what my days usually look like.”

She sighs, letting her eyes flutter shut. “I’ve missed this.”

“Even though it's scut?”

“Even though it’s scut.” She wishes that he could see that she’s smiling. Because he didn’t assume she meant him, he knew that she meant the hospital, that it was work. Though she did miss him a bit, not that she’d tell him that now, over the phone.

“Burke asked for me, though.” She tells him. “I think he just wants to put the bomb situation behind him. Make sure I’m not a jinx in his OR.”

Dylan snorts at the hint of humor in her words. “I doubt you're any sort of jinx.”

“Maybe, but you never really know, do you?”

“That’s true. Now, tell me about this case that Burke is having you on while I try to finish some of this paperwork.”

She straightens at his request, at the way he wants to know, even though he doesn’t fully understand it.

—

Meredith watched Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd as she handled the small baby and couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. Children were never something she had been too good with. Had mainly babysat a few times as a teenager to get away from being all alone while her mom worked, but Dylan had made her realize that even though she hadn’t been good with them, she did want them, more so she wanted them with him. Some day, though, not for a good long while.

“You're good with them.” She finds herself saying.

“What?” The redhead's eyes look away from the baby in her arms to her for just a second.

“Babies. You’re good with them.”

The older doctor looks at her again, “Thank you, Grey.”

Silence fills the room again, and Meredith can’t help but speak again, not knowing when or if she’ll get to apologize again. “I want to tell you I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet, but she looks at Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd. Wants her to know that she means it. “I should have apologized to you sooner and stopped with Derek as soon as you showed up. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry I didn’t do either sooner.”

She carefully sets the baby back down, arms crossing in front of her as she looks at the intern. “What’s this about Grey?” Her voice is filled with confusion and exasperation.

“You deserve an apology.” Meredith looks away as she speaks again. “I know what affairs can do to people,” her breath hitches a bit as she's reminded of her childhood, reminded of who exactly Chief Webber is. “And if I had known that he was married, I would have never let what happened happen.”

“I thought you knew.”

She looks up and is surprised by the softness on the older Doctor's face, some of her usual sternness having melted away at her admission. “I had no idea.” Meredith tells her. “But that doesn’t excuse what I did after you turned up and after I found out. We never continued or did anything, but I still thought of him when I shouldn’t have.”

She sighs, “Meredith, you can’t control your thoughts and I haven’t been fair to you either. I can’t off a clean or fresh slate, but I can offer to treat you fairly.”

“You have treated me fairly.”

“No, I haven’t.” She winces as she remembers requesting Meredith for her service, not to prove a point, but to make her uncomfortable, to make herself feel better. “But starting now I will.”

The room goes silent again and Meredith can’t help but watch fascinated as the baby makes a small grumbling sound as its eyes flutter shut, sleep finally settling over it.

“Can I ask why now?”

Meredith doesn’t ask what she means by it. “I didn’t know when I’d get the chance. And I met someone, and before we even got together he made me realize a lot of things. This was one of them.”

“Does he have a brother?”

She laughs at the joke, looking at the other doctor with amusement. “No. Only child, I’m afraid.”

She hums. “Is he a doctor?”

“No.” Meredith’s voice is soft, filled with understanding, as she realizes why exactly she wants to know. “He’s head of the bomb squad, actually.”

Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd’s eyebrows raise, “Does Derek know?”

“I only talk to him in a professional capacity anymore, so probably not.”

—

She lets out a moan as she collapses face first onto the bed.

Fingers touch her right ankle, and she doesn’t even flinch, just sighing as the fingers carefully tuck themselves in between her sock and ankle and peel the fabric away before doing the same to her left.

“Long day?”

She turns her head to the side, “twelve-hour surgery.”

He makes a hissing sound as his hands go up to her waist as he carefully turns her over. “You alright if I get you comfy?”

“I can do it.” She murmurs, smiling at him. “Just need a minute.”

Dylan shakes his head. “Let me do it. Relax.”

She can’t even protest, just gives a nod.

As he undresses her, he does his best not to move her too much and her heart swells at the attention, at the delicate way he’s treating her.

When she’s down to just her underwear and tank top, he sits down by her feet, making her frown, but before she can say anything he’s taking her left foot into his hands and massaging the sore limb, and she melts from the contact, a happy sigh leaving her.

“I love you.” She mumbles, staring at him with eyes that are eager to close, with a mind that’s ready for sleep.

He smiles at her, bending to press a kiss to the delicate bone of her ankle. “I love you too.”

—

“Y’know,” Alex starts, making her look up from the chart in her lap. “I could kick O’Malley’s ass for you.”

She raises an eyebrow, glancing at his hands before looking back down.

“I said kick for a reason.” He laughs, nudging at her to scoot over before joining her on the gurney. “You were right about Izzie.” He says after a moment.

She shuts the chart. “You could do better than Izzie.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I want her.”

“And she wants Denny.”

Alex’s face screws up at the reminder. “Yeah.”

“Is he good to you?”

She just barely manages to not startle at the question. “Who?”

“The guy. And I know there’s a guy.” He says before she can interrupt. “I watched you and Shepherd, and then O’Malley got butt hurt. So, is he good to you?”

Meredith smiles as she thinks of Dylan, and she nods. “Yeah, he’s good to me.”

“Good.”

—

“Where the hell have you been? I mean honestly, Meredith.”

Meredith stares at the blonde before looking at George, who immediately looks away from her. “Gone.” She finally responds to Izzie as she pushes past her and goes further into her house. She hadn’t really wanted to come back, not when she knew that Izzie and George would be here, but she needed to get some more clothes and remove the last of Ellis’ surgery tapes.

“Gone?” Her voice is shrill, “You’ve been gone?” Izzie laughs. “You’re joking right? That’s all you have to say. You haven’t been here in like two months.”

She rounds to face her, scowling, “I have been here. How do you think the bills get paid? How do you think you two still have water and electricity in my house?” They both flinch at the last two words.

Izzie straightens, arms crossing over her chest. “Well, other than the hospital, I haven’t seen you. And I think,” she then gestures between George and her. “We think that we deserve an explanation.”

Her eyes narrow, and all thoughts of Dylan waiting outside for her in his car leaves her mind. “An explanation?”

She stares at the two, not quite gobsmacked but close. “You think you deserve an explanation? And why? Because I let you continue to live here, even after you let people believe we slept together,” she points at George, “and you happily ran around protecting his feelings like he isn’t an adult and calling me a whore to anyone who would listen?” They both stare at her with open mouths, guilt shining in their eyes, but she continues. “Or is it because we’re coworkers? All fellow interns suffering together? Or is it just to make yourselves feel better? Pretending to care where I am.”

“We’re friends, Meredith.” George whispers, hurt dripping from his voice.

She shakes her head, “No. I’m not friends with people who call me a whore or pretend they slept with me because I didn’t return their feelings.”

Meredith shakes her head again before walking to her bedroom. Opening her closet, she quickly shoves in some of her nicer clothes, wincing as she does, because she’s either going to have to pay a good-sized dry cleaning bill or buy a steamer, Dylan thankfully owns an iron.

Opening drawers of her dresser, she avoids the second, that used to be full of her scrubs that now were all at Dylan’s. It’s the second thought of him that makes her curse. Glancing down at her watch, she curses again. She had said five minutes, and it had nearly been ten. She rushes to stuff the bag with everything else she wants, barely remembering to grab the last box of Ellis’ tapes in the hall closet.

Rushing down the stairs, she rolls her eyes at the sight of two of them still standing where she left them. “I’m leaving. And you have three months to find somewhere else to live. I’d like my house back.”

She doesn’t wait for them to respond as she leaves, nearly running smack-dab into Dylan, who's poised to knock.

“Everything okay?” He asks, and she barely notices him taking the box and bag out of her hands as he leans down to kiss her.

“Yeah.” She breathes, shoulders dropping, and she tries to reach for the bag, but he’s throwing it over his shoulder.

“No chance.” He laughs.

Her eyes narrow briefly, but then she’s laughing as well. “Alright. Just this once, though.”

“No chance.” He murmurs, grabbing her hand with his free one as they walk to his car.

—

Elevators, Meredith had decided months ago, meant nothing good. At least not for her or rather, at least not for Seattle Grace Hospital. She had never once had a single significant thing happen to her in an elevator before coming back here, and now it was like the place for things to happen.

Standing on the left side of the machine, she keeps her eyes locked on above the elevator door, looking as it tells what floor they pass as it continues downwards.

“Meredith,” Derek starts, his voice soft and sad. Before she would immediately be looking at him, hoping to ease some of that sadness away. Before she would’ve loved to hear him say her name. Before she would have done and felt a lot of different things, but now it makes her sigh. The day seeming to get worse somehow.

“Dr. Shepherd.” She responds, hoping that the elevator will hurry, but this one has always been a bit slow. It needed a large maintenance check, but that would require it being shut down for a day, maybe two, and it was a struggle to be down one elevator, even if it was a slow one. Just a few months ago she had been grateful, now she was wishing it had gotten fixed.

He chuckles and from the corner of her eye, she can see his body move closer, making her shuffle a bit closer to the front of the elevator. “You don’t have to call me that, Meredith. No one else is around.” His voice drops to a near whisper, “I’ve missed you.”

Her eyebrows press together, a frown tugs at her lips as she turns to face him. “Derek, I’m not interested. Not anymore.”

His mouth drops open, but she continues before he can say anything.

“And I haven’t been. You lied to me a lot. You never told me you had a wife, never even tried. And then when she appeared, you never even tried to tell her that I had no idea about her. Then George,” she shakes her head as she thinks of George, of Izzie, and her jaw twitches, she nearly scowls. “You had no right to comment about that, to call me a whore.”

“No.” He murmurs, “I shouldn’t have. But, Meredith, I still want you. I want to be with you.”

“I don’t want to be with you.”

“I don’t believe that.” He steps closer.

She glares at him, “I’m telling you that I don’t want you. I’m not interested. What we had is done, over, and it has been. Make up with your wife or don’t. It’s not my business.” She tells him as the elevator doors open, and she quickly steps out, wanting to get away from it, from the conversation, from him.

He follows behind her. “Is there someone else? Is that why?”

She continues walking, head tilting up to the sky as soon as she gets greeted by the cold night air.

“Meredith.” He calls, and his fingers are wrapping around her arm, just above her elbow, and she stops, nearly gasping at the tightness of his grip. “Is there someone else?”

She stares at the fingers that are gripping her arm, that are pushing into her skin so tight she knows she’ll have a bruise. She raises her head, lips pressed together, so she doesn’t say that he’s hurting her. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Yes, there is someone else.”

He lets go of her arm like she’s burned him with her words. “What?”

“There’s someone else, Derek.”

She watches as he struggles to comprehend it, to wrap his head around it. “Goodbye, Dr. Shepherd.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Grey.” She just barely manages to hear him return.

—

Kim lets out a whistle, making Dylan look up from the stupid incident report he had to make sure was filled out properly. “Your doctor is here.” He says, seeing his boss raise an eyebrow. “And she’s got a nasty bruise on her arm.” He continues, watching as the smile that had appeared on Dylan’s face immediately falls, replaced with concern.

He continues to watch as Dylan gets up and quickly approaches her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he guides her into his office and after picking up the incident report that Dylan had left and his notepad and pen, he follows, shutting the door behind himself, despite only a few others milling around.

“Meredith, what happened?” Dylan asks, gently holding her arm to get a better look at the bruise, only to nearly growl as he realizes that it's in the shape of a hand. “Who did this to you?”

Kim raises an eyebrow at the gentle but firmness of the words as he watches the two.

“They didn’t even realize they were doing it.” She says, knowing it was true. Derek wasn’t one for physical violence, he knew how to make his words hurt, and he used that to his advantage.

“Was it a patient?”

“No.” She shakes her head, catching a glimpse of Kim in the process, and she gives a small smile to the second in command for the Seattle bomb squad. “Hi Kim.”

“Doc.” He greets, before nodding at the mark on her arm. “That’s a nasty bruise. You want to file a report?”

“No.” She repeats, and she can picture Dylan’s furrowed brow, can see Kim’s eyebrows press together before he smoothes them out. She doesn’t however see how Kim has a leg slightly bent as he leans, notepad open as his pen moves across a small page.

“Mer,” Dylan’s voice is quiet, a little desperate, and it has her looking at him, looking into his worried eyes. “What happened, baby?”

She turns a little pink at the word baby. She still wasn’t used to that, to being called something so sweet. “Dr. Shepherd, Derek,” she corrects herself, because it was important to separate them for her sanity at work. They were the same person, but had different feelings attached to them. “We had a conversation, it was fine, but he made it personal, wanted to let me know he missed me.” She watches as Dylan’s mouth tightens at her words, but his grip on her, on her arm and waist doesn’t. “That he was still interested. I told him that I wasn’t. That it was over between us and had been.”

She can’t help but place a few fingers over Dylan’s pulse point, feeling the thrum of his heart from the wrist of the hand that’s got fingers curled over her arm. “That it had been over for a while. He wanted to know if there was someone else.” She shrugs, trying to make sure that Dylan knows she’s okay, that what happened was okay. Nothing violent or scary, nothing that required a report to be filed.

“So, he did this to you?” He lifts her arm a little higher, the light catching it, and she winces at the angry color already being showcased.

“No. He followed me outside.” And she winces again at the raised eyebrows she gets from both of them men and how it sounds. “And he grabbed my arm to stop me from walking away. He let go as soon as I said that I was seeing someone.”

“But he grabbed you?”

She nods at Kim’s question. “Yes, but he didn’t realize he was gripping my arm so tight.”

“Did you say anything? It had to have hurt.” Dylan gently runs his fingers over the bruise, watching her face carefully to make sure he doesn’t hurt her.

Meredith flushes, stuttering out a response. “No, I uh, I didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want to get him the satisfaction.” And she’s blinking to try and stop tears from appearing as what happened really hits her.

Dylan’s eyes soften at her words, at the tears he can see about to fall. “Oh, baby.” And he gathers her properly in his arms, the couple not noticing how Kim slipped out of the office at his words.

“I’ve let him know enough that he’s hurt me, I didn’t want him to know this time as well.”

Dylan presses her closer, feeling tears start to soak through his shirt.

“It hurt though.” She cries. “Him gripping my arm. I wasn’t scared, but it hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.”

—

Meredith stares at the bruise the next morning, stares at the ugly mark, stares at what is and will be the last time Derek Shepherd ever hurts her. Not realizing that Dylan is also looking at it and promising himself that he’ll do his best to never let anyone hurt her again.