Disclaimer: If I wrote it, I wouldn't be a sobbing mess right now. You had to know this was coming. The title, "Unarmed," belongs to Mariah McManus.

This is Part One of a multi-part mini fic; it'll probably be no more than two or three chapters, but I wanted to get this posted. The first two paragraphs are from Shonda's blog. It helped me when I was writing this, so I figured it might be helpful when reading, too. Anyway, hope you like this. Part Two should *hopefully* be posted later on today.

…

Meredith is whole and healed. I love the scene where she tells April that it took her forever to find Derek and then it took her forever to realize she wanted to be his wife, have his kids. That's a changed woman. The very fact that being pregnant makes her happy makes her a changed woman. And then she lost the baby. It took my breath away. That wince that Meredith gives before she says she is having a miscarriage, it took away my breath. Reed dies and Charles dies and it's sad. But the miscarriage, that's devastating. For Mer. For the audience. For everyone. But you don't know how much you wanted something until you have lost it. You don't know your true feelings until a thing you have is gone for good. And that's what I wanted for Mer. I wanted her to realize just HOW BADLY she wanted a baby. Because Mer is me in a lot of ways. And I always thought I did not want a baby. Until I did. And then suddenly a baby was everything. I wanted her to be sure. Absolutely sure. See, she is a character who spends her life trying not to repeat the mistakes of her mother. She is trying to overcome. And so I needed her to be sure. I've said that Mer will never have kids but then I started to think of that as a challenge. How do I make Mer TRULY WANT to have kids? And so I told this story. It's horrible and it's sad.

It is also what I refer to as the bill. You eat a delicious meal at a delicious restaurant, you get a bill. You buy the expensive bag online, the bill comes due. You want in, you gotta pay. Same with life (or at least life as it plays out in my head). The scales have to be balanced. It's the hideous game of fate our characters always play. She gets to keep her Derek but the very thing that makes it okay to keep him, that hideous stressful moment where she believes he's dead? That's the very thing that makes her lose the baby. The bill was due. And the collection agents came calling. I hate it but it's the only way I know to do it – let the universe hand Mer a shiny pony and then kick Mer in the face. You don't get to have everything. There's always a price.

- Shonda Rhimes

…

As Meredith walks down the hall toward Derek's room in the ICU, she bites her lip, trying not to cry. Her husband is alive. That's more than she can say for the others that died today. It's a miracle that Derek made it through. She's grateful for that. She will always be grateful for that. The love of her life is alive.

But the tiny little miracle they made wasn't. Life is cruel that way, she thinks. She only knew that baby existed for a few hours, and yet, she loves it as much as she loves Derek. Even now that it's gone. Nothing more than a washed away trail of blood running down her legs. Bile creeps into her throat thinking about it, and she makes a beeline for the bathroom. Once she's within projectile range of the first stall, she vomits into the toilet, hot tears burning her eyes and trailing down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she says as she gasps for air, clutching her belly. The empty, childless womb that no longer contained the little person she loved so completely. "I'm sorry."

"Meredith." She hears Cristina's voice and then sees her kneel down next to her from the corner of her eyes, blurred over with tears that haven't fallen yet. "Mer," she says again. "Meredith. Breathe. What happened?"

"Gone," she pants, running her hand through her hair, her fingertips coming in contact with the clammy, sweaty skin of her forehead.

"He's fine. He's right down the hall. What's going on? Mer, breathe," Cristina instructs, grabbing a wad of toilet paper from the roll and handing it to her friend. She flushes the toilet, gets Meredith to lean against the stall, then takes her hand.

"I lost the baby, Cristina," Meredith exhales, her arms limp at her sides, the ball of toilet paper clutched in the hand Cristina wasn't holding.

"Meredith," Cristina sighs.

Panic rises in her and more tears spill from her eyes. "Derek," Meredith begins to pant again. "I need. Just—I need to see him, please. I need Derek."

Cristina nods. "Okay," she says, gently helping Meredith off the floor and onto her feet. She notices the dried blood on her friend's shoes and shakes her head in realization. Derek's blood, and her own. "I'm so sorry, Meredith."

"Me too," Meredith murmurs shakily, finally wiping her eyes.

Seconds later, she's standing in the doorway of Derek's room. It's surreal, the beeping and the wires and the IVs snaking from the crook of his arm to the silver pole at his bedside. She swallows back more bile in her throat. But even if she wanted to get sick again, she couldn't. There was nothing left. Her hand wanders to her abdomen. She never realized how much she appreciated the morning sickness until now. Until there was no baby, no little life inside her that protested every time she ate breakfast in the morning.

And if it weren't for the small smile Derek gives her, she would've fallen to the floor in defeat then. But her husband is alive. Even in a hospital bed, he's the one giving her hope.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," she echoes, her voice cracking as she speaks. It's the first time she's spoken to him since before his surgery. Before there was a gun pointed at her as she signed her life away to save her husband. Before that same gun was pointed at her friends. Before she lost the baby they made.

Meredith walks over to his bed and kisses his forehead. "How are you?" she asks.

"I'm fine," Derek says with as much confidence he can muster, probably more for her sake than his. He studies her face, her pale skin, red rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks, for a few seconds and frowns. "It's okay. Everything's okay now," he whispers, taking her hand.

Only it wasn't. But he's in no shape to hear what she needs to tell him. And she's in no shape to share it. He's alive. It can wait.

Meredith manages to smile at her husband and she squeezes his hand. "Yeah," she says. "Everything's okay now."

"Come here," he whispers, slowly moving over on the small bed to make room for her.

She kicks off her blood-stained shoes, maneuvers herself next to him, and exhales when she feels his body heat pressed against her. "I love you," Meredith tells him, comfortingly smoothing her fingers through his hair.

Derek rests his head on her shoulder, breathes her in. Lets her know that he's here for her, just as much as she's here for him. "I love you, too."

After he falls asleep, she weeps quietly, letting her tears fall and splash onto her scrubs. She cries for herself, for her husband, and their baby. A family of three that was so close to losing all its members today. Only two made it out alive. It was their tiny miracle that paid the price.

Meredith's lets the hand that Derek isn't holding rest atop her belly again, linking the three of them together. Three. The baby they lost will always be theirs, a symbol of how much they love each other. The baby that was created out of love, and died out of love.

Derek sighs in his sleep and she looks over at him. Her husband is alive. That's when it hits her. Without Derek, there would never be the chance to make another baby. They could still be parents one day. Today, even for a few hours, they were. And one day, they would be again.

"I'll always love you," Meredith says quietly. "Both of you."

She falls asleep at her husband's side, embracing her grief. It would linger on, she knew. But accepting it was the only way she'd ever be able to let it go.

...

I have a thing I'd like to say to you

Put down your guns and listen to me

I am unarmed and I have no fear

I will not budge or steer clear of you

So just say the words and I'll fade away now

Give me a match and I'll burn it all down

Pick up your feet and take me home now

Cause it's dark inside and I'm all alone

Part Two to follow.