A/N I couldn't help myself. I know I still have a fic to finish with Just One Second, but I just had to write something in response to the fifth season finale, and this is the result.
I have to say, this practically wrote itself. In one form or another it has been banging me over the head since last weekend, so the only thing to do was write it. It will have a second part, one which covers the events immediately after the finale finished, and it will get it quickly, especially if you review.
I want to also say that my references to Catholicism and the rituals within the Catholic church are by no means intended to offend or distress anyone, so please don't review just to flame me for that, but please do review.
Holding On
It was funny how often the sun shone on funerals, Derek mused, standing at the graveside. A dim memory of another funeral, years ago, went through his mind. There was the dark oak coffin, the flowers and the mourners, all dressed in black, some weeping softly, some outright sobbing, and others, for whom the pain ran too deeply to be expressed in anything other than watching the coffin being placed in a hole in the ground, whilst the people left behind tried, first of all to understand how this could have happened, and then fought, with gritted teeth and tears that still refused to fall, the urge to jump right into the hole with the lost one, perhaps to plead with them to come back, or to hope that when they came to finally refill the hole with earth, no one would notice the living amongst the dead and they would get to stay with the loved one forever, and the sun shone.
Now, Derek withdrew from his memories, the taint of them sticking in his guts long after the images had faded as if they were a worn, faded photograph, this day, there were two coffins, and instead of his father, they held two of his fiancée's, no, he corrected himself, his nearly wife's, closest friends, two of the people she thought of as her family, and still the sun shone.
At the thought of Meredith, Derek felt her slight weight against him. She stood to his left, leaning against him somewhere between his side and his chest. Her left arm was across her body, anyone looking would have thought she was hugging herself, but Derek knew different. The hand that lay on his chest, right over his heart, knew different. Surrounded by death, Meredith was holding on to life, clinging to a spark of light even on this darkest day. All the time her eyes hovered between the two coffins. It was like she was watching her friends have a rapid conversation, one where each of them fired words at her and she was expected to understand what each was saying and come up with a response that would make each of them happy, except this time there were no words, there was no one to please or piss off any more with an answer that didn't suit. There was no way of understanding what the hell was going on here, because even though practically every one of the people surrounding these graves was a doctor, a man or woman of science, there was no way to take in how two people that had been part of them could be gone, one from cancer and the other because he'd saved someone he didn't even know from being hit by a bus. The absurdity of the situation seemed to wash over Meredith and Derek felt the sigh that passed through her body. He pulled her closer, held her tighter in the arm that was around her waist and breathed in the scent of her hair, the warm lavender smell reminding him she was still there, alive. In response, the hand that lay on his chest seemed to press a little more firmly, like it needed some confirmation of its own, and then she sighed again, softer, a little more at peace. Just a little. It was enough.
Derek tried to take in what the priest was saying over the graves, but his eyes kept being drawn to the others around him. Next to Meredith stood Alex Karev, his head bowed, staring down at just the one coffin, his eyes drawn to it like a magnet. Of all the mourners, it was only Alex who had cried all the way through the service. He didn't wail or whimper, or give out any of the usual sounds associated with being in such awful pain. Instead, as he stood watching the coffin that held the woman he loved, Alex Karev shook with silent sobbing. Only briefly, when the sun seemed to suddenly shine a bit brighter for a second, Alex looked up, his eyes turned towards the unusually clear Seattle skies. He glared at the sun as if the golden rays it threw over the coffin of his love had committed a mortal sin, and Derek could feel the waves of agony pouring from him. Alex Karev looked like a scared little boy, lost and alone in some endless nightmare. He trembled as he stood, shaking because his foundation was gone and he couldn't see how he could go on without her. It was a feeling Derek knew, though he'd been reprieved from it when Meredith came back. The thought made him pull her even closer into his side, place his free hand over hers as it lay on his chest and grip, his fingers automatically entwining with hers.
Cristina Yang stood on Alex's other side, Owen Hunt behind her, one arm around her waist, the other with its hand on her shoulder in a grip that was sure to leave bruises. Cristina's hands gripped the arm around her waist in response and turned her head up a little to look at the man behind her. A flash of something passed between them, understanding, comfort, strength, love, and Derek watched as the hand on Cristina's shoulder slid around and rested on the other shoulder, lighter, more gentle, but still a constant presence. The change in position seemed to spark something in Cristina and suddenly she turned completely in Owen's arms, her back to the graves. Owen, taken by surprise for a moment by Cristina's movement, looked into her eyes, and then Derek heard Cristina begin to sob. The sound made Meredith raise her head from Derek's chest and turn towards her friend, though any movement she could have made was stalled by Alex between them. Then, within a second, the sound coming from Cristina Yang was muffled when Owen Hunt hauled her into his arms and held her for all he was worth. Both Derek and Meredith watched the other couple clinging together, each becoming a lifeline for the other, Cristina's face half concealed by Owen's jacket, and Owen closing his eyes while his mouth moved in whispered words of reassurance and love.
It took a few moments for Cristina's sobbing to ease a little, and then Meredith's head was on Derek's chest again as tears began to shine in her eyes. Seeing Cristina Yang break down seemed to confirm the magnitude of the loss they all felt. Cristina was hardcore, tough, hardened through and through, or so it seemed. Most people would never have imagined her falling apart in the way she just had, wouldn't have considered her capable of it. Appearances were clearly deceptive, or, was it just that this thing they were all going through was so enormous, so great, that even Cristina was touched by it?
Standing at the foot of Isobel Stevens' grave was her mother, Robbie. Everyone else attending the funeral chose dark colours to wear, black, grey, dark blue at the most. In comparison, Izzie's mother was wearing a deep shade of pink that made her stand out, but also seemed to separate her from everything going on around her. It was, Derek thought, probably her way of dealing with the loss of the daughter she'd hardly seen for well over a year. It might also be what Izzie would have wanted, he conceded. He took a moment to wonder what Izzie Stevens, perky, upbeat, almost overly positive Izzie Stevens, would have thought of all the muted colours the people she cared about most had chosen to wear to her funeral. Maybe her mother was the one that had got it right and if there was such a thing as an afterlife Izzie was somewhere laughing her head off at the solemnity of her friends.
However, when Derek turned his eyes away from Izzie's mother, he saw someone else, who in comparison was dressed almost entirely in black, with a look on her face that suggested that she was watching the world shatter into a million pieces and she couldn't work out how to fit everything back together and make it all right again. It was Mrs O'Malley, George's mother, and though Derek barely knew her, he knew she was broken. She looked old, Derek thought, smaller than he remembered, as if the loss of her sensitive youngest son had literally worn her down. It was the second funeral this woman would have attended in less than a year, the death of Mr. O'Malley, George's father, coming to the forefront of his mind. Perhaps, Derek thought, there was only so much loss a person could take, and Mrs O'Malley's point of endurance had already been reached, but, he thought, she wasn't alone in her loss. Flanking her were her elder sons, each looking uncomfortable, uncertain. They looked like they couldn't really take in what was happening, couldn't absorb the fact that the brother they'd never really understood, who'd never seemed to really fit in with his family, was really gone.
It was Mrs O'Malley who'd been responsible for the way this funeral was being held. A strong Catholic, she said she wanted her son to go to his grave properly, which meant, at least in her eyes, a long, drawn out church service and a burial, which involved more words and rituals. The idea, Derek knew, was to bring comfort to the grieving, but, he thought, how could it bring comfort when all the words and rituals in the world didn't even begin to reflect the people Izzie and George had been? Watching her again now, Derek couldn't see that Mrs O'Malley, or Izzie's mother, who as a Catholic herself was in favour of what Mrs O'Malley had in mind, looked any better for having gone through with this, in fact they both looked like they were finding it agonising. Derek made a mental note to himself to tell Meredith at some point what he wanted to happen for his funeral. He told himself that as much as his background was Catholic, he wasn't going to put Meredith through this, not again.
Callie Torres stood next to one of George's brothers, silently holding his hand while tears flowed down her face. Derek wondered who it was she was crying for, for George, who for a time she had been married to, or for the O'Malley's and the loss they had suffered. Then, as Derek watched, he realised how alone Callie seemed to be, as if she had no one and had only just realised. Maybe, Derek thought, giving some comfort to the O'Malley's was a comfort to her, from whatever pain she was in.
Lexie Grey was next to Callie, looking almost equally alone. Derek remembered earlier, when they'd taken their places at the graves. Meredith had asked Lexie to come and stand with her. He remembered the rush of pride that went through him when she did it, casting his mind back to times when Meredith even denied Lexie as a sister. It brought home to him how much she had changed lately, though the state of their relationship and their short do-it-yourself, post-it note wedding had already done more than enough to show that. But Lexie, seeing Meredith by Derek's side, already leaning gently on him, had said no, she would stand next to Callie in case Mark turned up. Derek had to force himself not to say that Mark would never turn up, he could be counted on to be unreliable, but he'd held his tongue. He had a feeling that as much as she was trying to persuade herself otherwise, Lexie knew Mark Sloan wouldn't show, but he couldn't help wondering what Mark was hiding from, was it the funeral, or had he messed things up with Lexie somehow?
Completing the mourners was Miranda Bailey and the Chief
Bailey stood at George's grave almost directly in front of the three remaining group of her residents. Throughout the service she'd watched the three of them, kept her eyes on them like a mother hen. It struck Derek how much she cared for the group she'd raised from interns to residents, how she took notice of everything in their lives. It made him see how hard it must be for her to see the pain each of them was in and not be able to do anything. He knew how shattered she must be to know that her group of five was reduced to three, right under her nose, and she hadn't been able to do a thing to prevent it, no matter how hard she'd tried.
The Chief was next to Bailey. He stood almost ramrod straight, staring over the coffins, as if he thought that watching them long enough would change something. Then, when it didn't, his eyes would flick to Derek's and then to Meredith at his side. The action made Derek stand up a little straighter, made him tighten the arm around Meredith's waist that bit more. Then the Chief's eyes would fall on the coffins again and he would stand, his jaw making tiny, almost invisible movements as he ground his teeth together.
Eventually, Derek heard the words that indicated that the service was coming to and end. The coffins were lowered into the ground and slowly, people began to slip away, each of them casting one last look towards the graves. Callie went first, hugging George's family in turn, telling Mrs O'Malley that if she ever needed anything she knew where to come. Then she drifted away, wiping tears from her cheeks.
Lexie came round to Meredith and hugged her quickly, before giving her a weak smile, she left. The Chief followed, suddenly unsure of himself. He seemed to take a second to decide what to do, before he went first to Izzie's mother, shaking her hand and telling her how sorry he was for her loss and what a fine doctor Izzie would have been. Then he went to Mrs O'Malley and repeated the same and telling her how much he'd admired George, how hard working he was. Mrs O'Malley's eyes glowed with pride at the words. She looked at George's coffin almost as if she was saying, 'Did you hear that Georgie?' Then, without another word, she turned into the Chief's arms and held him, just for a moment. She released him and then she told her remaining sons that it was time to go and they followed her away from the grave, none of them looking back, even for a second.
The Chief lingered a moment longer. He went over to Alex and patted him on the back. Alex made no response, didn't indicate he'd even heard what the Chief said to him. He continued to stare at the hole in the ground that now held Izzie's coffin, and silent tears still poured down his face.
It was only as she was leaving that Izzie's mother's control slipped. All through the service she'd been dry-eyed. At various points her lips had cracked into something that resembled a smile. Perhaps, Derek thought, she was remembering times from the past, memories of good times, birthdays, Christmases, and the hundred and one other things people share with their loved ones. Now, at this point of final parting, it all seemed to hit the woman. Miranda Bailey moved to comfort her, to say something, but Robbie glared so viciously over the grave at her that Miranda stood back. Then, beginning to sob loudly, Robbie left, alone and isolated as when she'd arrived.
Only six of them stood around the grave now, the three residents, Derek, Owen and Bailey. They all stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, their own loss, and, Derek thought, maybe the three of them, Meredith, Cristina and Alex, were trying to hold on just a bit longer, trying to put off the moment when they wouldn't all be together ever again. He wasn't surprised when he felt Meredith take her head off his chest and stand up straight. It didn't even surprise him when Cristina stirred in Owen's arms and turned towards Meredith, who nodded softly and turned to Derek.
"We're just going to be a minute…We just….Alex and us…It's…"
Derek knew what she was trying to say. The three of them needed a moment. Just a moment to themselves, to think, to talk, to say goodbye to their friends.
"It's okay. You take as long as you need. I'll go and wait over there." He indicated a group of trees on the edge of the cemetery. "Take your time, there's no hurry." Derek leaned down and kissed Meredith softly and she smiled in response, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. Then, releasing her, he watched as she moved towards Cristina, and together they wordlessly retook their places by Alex Karev's side.
A/N So, there we are. I hope it's good, but I will know if you review. A bit more soon, I hope. By the way, I have just started work again on Just One Second, so watch this space, and if you are interested on my views on all things Grey's, including my thoughts on the finale, you can take a look at my LiveJournal. The address for it is in my profile.