Derek watched as the headlights of Meredith's jeep trekked down the muddy gravel road towards the clearing. For a moment, he wasn't even paying attention to the architect's running commentary of ideas for their future home. The only thing he could focus on was Meredith and how happy he was that she'd arrived, even if she'd missed the majority of their meeting.

"Is this your wife?" the architect asked gruffly as he followed Derek's stare.

"Almost. Fiancée," Derek replied.

Meredith waved as she parked the jeep next to his Denali and quickly climbed out. Her small feet plodded plaintively against the ground, dodging puddles here and there, and she clutched a bag tightly to her side as she ran up to them.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she apologized more to the architect than to Derek. He'd already heard her apologies when she called thirty minutes earlier rambling about needing to take care of something at the house before she came. He'd just assumed they'd been having problems with the fuse box again, and Izzie tended to call Meredith in to act as landlord rather than troubleshooting things herself.

"It's not a problem, but I think we're done here actually," the architect replied as he scrawled a couple more words on his clipboard and capped his pen closed.

"Oh," Meredith sighed with disappointment.

Derek shrugged and rubbed her back soothingly. "Don't worry," he assured. "I was very thorough with our requests."

"Indeed," the architect agreed. "And I'll courier my first draft of the plans over to you within four weeks."

They shook his hand and watched as the architect retraced Meredith's tire tracks back up the road.

"You told him everything?" Meredith asked, her voice laced with doubt.

"I think so," Derek assured her as they started to wander toward the center of the clearing and look out at the city that stretched out for miles below them.

"Our bedroom's going to be on the west side?" she continued.

"Yes, with a small balcony to boot," he responded.

"And the porch? You told him how we want the porch?"

Derek smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead and watched as Meredith's jaw dropped in panic.

"You should call him. Quick," she insisted. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and offered it to him, prompting a deep, throaty laugh in response.

"Mere," he chuckled, "I told him about the porch."

She rolled her eyes at him as she stuffed the phone back in her pocket. "Ass," she grumbled.

"Don't worry. We'll see the plans soon, and if there's anything that I left out, we'll tell him to fix it," Derek assured her. "We're good. Better than good even."

She looked at him skeptically before heaving a sigh. "We're good," she echoed.

He took her hand and led her along the perimeter of his property, savoring the crisp, damp air rising out of Puget Sound and into their mountainous terrain. It was hard to believe how much their lives had changed – in many ways for the better – in the last year.

"How did it go this morning?" she interrupted the silence to ask.

"It went well, actually. Richard said the job was hers if she wants it, and I think she does," Derek explained.

Sarah had flown in the night before to interview for the head of cardiothoracic surgery job, and Derek felt increasingly confident that his sister and her children would be relocating to the West Coast before Christmas. He had gathered from her comments that her husband was just as anxious to get out of the marriage as she was, and while the process was certain to be stressful and heartbreaking, she knew she needed to do it.

And Derek supported her fresh start in Seattle enthusiastically.

"It'll be great to have her out here," Meredith mused.

"Yeah, I think so, too," he agreed. "Oh, and I forgot to mention – I made dinner reservations for us tonight at the Italian place you like so much."

"Il Bistro?" she prompted.

"Yeah, and I'm inviting Sarah and Mark," Derek added.

Meredith giggled impishly. "You better warn Sarah about that place."

He looked at her quizzically, trying to figure out what she found so entertaining.

"Derek," Meredith elaborated with more than a little exasperation, "that place is one of the most romantic restaurants in the city, and you've functionally set your sister up on a double date with Mark. She's going to kill you!"

"She'll be fine," Derek laughed. He had to admit that he was looking forward to watching that play out, though. There was no question that Mark would exhibit far more enthusiasm about the occasion than Sarah would. "Besides, she would much rather have him go than play third wheel to us."

Meredith's mouth twisted in reluctant agreement. Derek had sensed that Meredith was far less comfortable showing affection toward him with Sarah spending the night in their apartment, and much of that, as Meredith later explained, was out of respect for Sarah's situation. Meredith didn't want to show off how happy and in love they were when Sarah's life seemed particularly low in that department.

"Besides, I thought you liked the idea of Sarah and Mark together," Derek commented.

"I do," Meredith replied. "But you could be a little more subtle about that. Drag her to Joe's or something, but don't thrust her into Romance Central."

"Speaking of thrusting," he laughed as he paused, "About here is where our bedroom will be." He blanketed his arms around Meredith and stood behind her as they took in the view. Lush green forests extended out on either side of the mountains rolling out to the sound, and the valley in the middle was freckled with residential areas, farms, and other developments. It was their own isolated piece of heaven overlooking Seattle.

"You're so dirty. I'm not so sure that I approve of you spending all this time with Mark after all. Bad influence or something," she teased.

"What, and your friends are better Mrs. I-Can-Outdrink-Everyone-Let-Me-Prove-It?" he fired back. He didn't mind it actually. He was happy that she was less interested in tequila since settling in with him, but he wouldn't begrudge her occasional overindulgence.

"Whatever. It's not the same. You're seriously gonna be one of those old men who makes dirty comments all the time and gets away with it because you're old." Her giggle seemed shrill as it pierced the otherwise serene environment before ending in a small snort. Still, it was one of Derek's favorite sounds.

"I'm sure you'll keep me in line," he responded. "Besides, it's not like I make comments to everyone—just you," he reassured. "And I'm not convinced you mind so much."

"Maybe not," she sighed as she leaned back against him.

"So, your house? Was everything okay when you went there this afternoon?" Derek inquired. He was genuinely curious what disaster had befallen her property since most crises ended up involving him in the solution one way or another.

"Everything there is fine," Meredith dismissed coolly.

"Oh," Derek answered. "I thought something was wrong and that's why you were late getting here."

"Nothing was wrong," she answered. He could feel her body tensing against him, and instinctively held her tighter. "I just needed to take care of something."

"Okay," he voiced hesitantly, hoping she'd elaborate without needing additional prompts.

"I just…" she sighed. She started fidgeting with her hands, wringing them nervously, before clutching her tote bag. She worried the long canvas straps between her fingers, tracing the little contours in the fabric as she shifted against him.

Derek dropped his hands into his pockets, effectively releasing her from his grip.

"What is it, Mere? You can tell me," he encouraged.

She took a deep breath and turned to face him.

"I…I wanted to get this," she explained. She reached into her bag and extracted a large Ziploc bag of a powdery gray material.

Derek's eyes shifted from Meredith to the bag and back again as he tried to discern the bag's contents. When it finally registered with him, his eyes grew wide and his eyebrows lifted, forming large creases across his forehead.

There's an urn in my closet, and she died…

"Is that—Is that your mom?" Derek gasped.

Meredith quickly nodded with tear-filled eyes. "I thought the urn might spill so I put her in a bag," she explained.

"I see," Derek murmured in shock. Part of him wanted to chuckle at how innocent and adorable she looked holding up her bagful of mommy, but he knew this was not a moment to make jokes. This was a gargantuan leap for her, and he was willing to do whatever she wanted or needed.

"What do you want to do with it—her?" he stammered. He silently cursed his slip up, although he wasn't actually sure what her attitude was toward her mother's ashes. Were they just pieces of dust that represented Ellis Grey's physical embodiment? Or did Meredith think it was her mom? This was the kind of spiritual discussion they'd never engaged in.

"I think I want her here," Meredith announced tentatively. She trembled a bit, and Derek wasn't sure if it was from the cold breeze or the emotion of the moment. Either way, he squeezed her shoulder and felt himself flooded with warmth as she forced a weak smile in return.

"You want her here?" Derek asked. He was slightly skeptical of her decision-making process given all of the unhappy memories Meredith associated with her mother, but he tried not to let his skepticism filter into his voice.

"I know. I'm crazy, right?" she huffed. She started stuffing the baggie back into her tote, but Derek stopped her.

"You're not crazy at all. I'm just curious why you chose here. It's not like she was ever here or anything like that," Derek explained as he held onto her fist and massaged it soothingly.

Meredith's eyes grew hazy and distant as she stared across the landscape. She bit her trembling lower lip, and her skin paled to a ghostly white that made her mouth appear more crimson than ever. A tear escaped her red-rimmed lower lashes and trickled down her chin before landing in an unceremonious plop on her navy blue coat.

"My whole life, I'm pretty sure I was a disappointment to her," Meredith started between muffled sobs.

"Meredith—" Derek interrupted.

"No, let me say this and get this out. My therapist thinks it's good for me," she snapped.

Derek wasn't about to argue. Meredith's attempt to see a therapist was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to their relationship. It forced her to start opening up to him and restart their relationship at a time he thought they were doomed.

"Ellis never seemed happy for me or proud of anything that I accomplished. She made me feel like a failure, and I've struggled to forgive her for that," Meredith confessed.

Derek nodded sympathetically, but he still wasn't sure why that meant Meredith needed to bring the ashes to the site of their future home.

"And I know she was a jerk to you and probably said a million things to make you hate her, but I want to believe that she only did those things because she thought it would help me somehow," Meredith continued. Her posture straightened and her voice became more confident with each revelation.

"I didn't hate her," Derek argued. "I mostly felt sorry for her. And I was angry that she hurt you," he added.

"I know," Meredith answered. "But the thing is, now that we're getting married and building this life together, I'm starting to feel like I'm accomplishing things—" her voice cracked suddenly, and she cleared her throat before starting more softly. "I'm accomplishing things she could be proud of. And if our future together is here, I want her to see that."

Derek felt like his heart was breaking in two at Meredith's sincere rationale. After all of the awful things her mother had put her through –comments she'd made, experiences she'd denied her only daughter—Meredith continued to exhibit more compassion and love than he thought possible. It was certainly far more than he thought Ellis Grey deserved.

His head tilted slightly to the side and his eyes crinkled sadly as he stared at the woman he loved more than anything. If this is what she wanted, he would oblige. He always would.

"Oh, Meredith," he sighed. He reached forward and cupped her face in his hand, smoothing away any remaining traces of the tears on her cheek.

"I'm crazy, right? A certifiable nut job?"

"Not. At. All. You're amazing, actually," he answered slowly.

She kissed his hand gently and lifted her hand to cover his. She held his hand in her own, drawing it back to her side, and started leading him toward a large tree. She continued to clutch the bag of her mother's ashes in her other hand.

"I was thinking of spreading her around this tree," she mused. "She'd be able to see Seattle and our house, and if we go to the lake, we'd walk by her."

"I think it's perfect," he encouraged. He watched as she knelt down on the cold, damp ground and opened the Ziploc bag. She reached in the bag and delicately withdrew a fistful of the dust, sprinkling it around on the ground beside her like a child funneling sand at the beach. The gray dust mixed with the black dirt and dead pine needles lining the ground.

He knelt beside her and rubbed her back gently as she continued withdrawing her mother one handful at a time. Eventually she caught his gaze, and he nodded toward the bag, asking for her permission to help. She smiled sadly and lifted her head up and down in agreement. Derek withdrew his own handful of ashes and started sprinkling the dust beside them.

"She'll get to hear about what an amazing surgeon you are and how many lives you save when we sit out on the porch at night and talk about our days together," he commented. He had no doubt that Meredith's surgical potential far surpassed that of her legendary mother, and he was pretty certain that was based on an objective assessment of everything he'd seen, not one colored by his love for her.

Meredith blinked slowly and smiled, clearly appreciating his gesture.

"And someday," she started, "maybe she'll get to see us playing with her grandchildren out in the yard."

The comment made Derek's heart stop. It meant the world to him to have her suggest the idea completely unprovoked. He wanted to wrap her up in a tremendous bear hug and never let her go. Maybe spin her around the clearing a few times as he shouted with glee. But he simply nodded, unwilling to belabor the issue or push too much. Sarah was right; it wasn't a race. They had a lifetime.

Meredith finished spreading the last handful, and then dumped the few remaining contents of the bag onto the ground. She folded the plastic baggie neatly and shoved it back into her tote before withdrawing a bottle of water they could use to rinse their hands before they stopped back at the trailer to use actual soap and running water.

The cool water trickled over their fingers as they washed away the remnants of Ellis Grey from their hands. Meredith dried her hands against her blue jeans, and Derek followed.

"I guess," Meredith began again softly. "I guess I just want dead mommy to be proud of me," she confessed.

Derek closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a protective hug. His eyes burned from threatening tears as he thought about all they'd been through in the past few weeks. He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting the soft lavender scent of her hair permeate his nostrils as he held her tightly.

The words he found himself thinking revealed themselves in a whisper.

"I'm pretty sure dead mommy already is."