𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

eighty five | mer

Lightning cracks through the overcast night sky of Seattle, the beginnings of a storm brewing throughout the city.

"You okay?"

"Hmm?"

I glance up at Derek from one of the cots we'd just set up in the lounge area, eyes slightly drooping with the fatigue of pregnancy.

"I asked if you're feeling alright." He presses a gentle hand to my forehead. "And from the looks of it, you're not."

I push myself further to the edge of the bed. "How come?"

"Baby's been dropping lower and lower the last two weeks, you've been fluffing pillows all throughout the hospital —"

"Of course you would blame me for wanting to fluff the pillows."

His nose nuzzles my cheek. "Lev, it's a sign of nesting."

"Yeah, so — oh."

I press a hand to the small of my back, a dull ache radiating around the region. Derek pauses his movement and knits his brows with concern.

"Everything's okay. I'm just more uncomfortable than usual."

He tugs me up to meet him for an embrace while his hands linger at my lower back so as to decipher the cause.

"We're at the hospital, you know." His words come across as a gentle whisper. "This could be early labor, and I'd prefer it if you were laying in a bed screaming at me than having our baby in the middle of the E.R.."

"I promise you, it's not early labor. And even if it was —"

"Which it most likely is."

"Even if it was, it'll take hours for early labor to progress into active labor, which means I won't be popping out a baby anytime soon."

He breathes a sigh of defeat and merely kisses my cheek. "Go take your prenatals, 'kay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

Mere moments before I take the short walk towards the cubbies, a trickle runs down my right leg, leaving a darkened mark over my scrubs in its place.

". . .uh, Derek —"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

And he sits me back down on the bed before dialing a page to whom I can only assume is Cristina.

"Oh, God."

"What? What? What's wrong?"

"I'm having a baby. We're gonna be parents."

Tears prick the corners of my eyes.

"I used to be such a badass, and your kid made me an emotional wreck." I sob into his comforting shoulder. "Jerk."

"I love you, too, Lev."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Labor, Leven? Are you kidding me?"

Cristina enters the room with a pastel pink jug of water and a similar pink cup of fresh ice chips. I lean against my forearms on the bed, with Derek pressing deep into the small of my back and cupping my shoulder. She sets them down on the little table attached to the bed before placing her hands on her hips in a stern manner.

"We're in the middle of a superstorm, and your body said this was the right time to give birth?"

"B-Blame the-the kid." I huff out towards the end.

"Are you cold?"

"Do you want a blanket?"

"No."

"What about the ball?"

"Do you wanna go back to bouncing on the ball?"

"No."

"How about the bed?"

"Do you want to lay in —"

"Can the laboring mother have a second to get through this contraction?" My voice cracks painfully as my head falls against the sheeted mattress.

Neither person says another word as the contraction finally subsides.

"How's your pain now?"

"Seven. M-M-Maybe eight?"

And in that very second, another contracting wave parts through me.

"Nine. Definitely a nine."

And before I know it, the lights go out across the hospital, and the backup generators fail to bring them back.

I lean against Derek's side for support while clinging to the I.V. pole. "You. . .you should go help. Interns and the dark are not a good combination."

His lips flutter against my temple. "The hospital isn't going anywhere, and the other doctors can hold up on their own. I am not leaving your side."

"Derek, I'm. . .I'm scared." The quietest of whimpers falls from my lips. "Giving birth in the dark? I-I can't do that?"

"You can."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because we're talking about the woman who survived a pacer malfunction, a bomb, a plane crash —"

"Could you imagine if labor was the one to take me out?"

The wry laugh that leaves my mouth sends no reassurance to the father-to-be while he strokes a hand through my hair.

"Der, it was a joke. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know. It's still. . ."

"Scary. I know."

All of a sudden, a sudden gush splashes under my gown. The crimson red staining the tiled floor spins my entire body into a panic.

"Are-Are you kidding me?"

My fingers clutch the tops of Derek's arms, the lower half of my body suddenly feeling weak.

"Hey, hey, stay with me. Stay with me."

- - - - - - - - - -

The gentlest of cries breaks in the O.R.. A cry of innocence from having to leave the comfort of their mother's womb.

"How is she? How's Leven?"

Derek glances over his wife's unconscious form laid across the O.R. table, a sight with which he's become far too familiar.

"She'll be waking up soon."

"And the baby?"

Cristina lightly smiles from behind the mask, her hand still holding onto Leven's.

"You have a baby girl."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Another girl in the family."

"Face it. You were meant to be surrounded by girls."

Derek perches himself next to me in my recovery bed while I feed our daughter for the first time. He nuzzles a finger against her full head of hair, something he takes credit for.

"Were you able to think of any names while you were unconscious?"

"Actually, I was."

I glance down at her with the same emotional grin that refused to disappear.

"Amera. Apparently, the name is a symbol for rebirth, just like Phoenix. Dad would have loved how unique it is." My eyes shift to meet his, and the first of many tears fall. "Amera Iona Shepherd."

"Your mom." His hand reaches to cup my cheek and swipe away stray tears.

I nod slightly whilst leaning into his touch. "She deserved to be happy. And so did Meredith."

A shaky breath leaves my lips, and I look down at my daughter with pure joy and pride.

"Which is why we could nickname her Mer."