Survivor

Chapter Sixteen

I think we need a little MerDer after all that, right?

"Good god," Meredith whispers, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her head is tilted upwards, exposing the blue and purple coloring that now lines her neck. Her throat is sore. It hurts to swallow, to talk. As much as she tries to shove down the memories, push away the thoughts, flashbacks of yesterday constantly invade her mind. And as much as she tries not to think about it, William's words echo in her ears.

You're as good as dead.

A shiver runs down her spine, and she wraps her arms around herself. It hurts to breathe deeply, her ribs seem to be in worse condition than they were before. She takes a little comfort in knowing that William is living out his last twenty-eight days on death row. It's very early in the morning, she woke up screaming again.

Meredith's eyelids are heavy and her movements are slow and uncoordinated. Weeks of little to no sleep are finally catching up with her. All she wants right now, more than anything, is to rest undisturbed by nightmares. But that's not going to happen. So, she quietly shuffles downstairs to the kitchen and opens the freezer.

A hint of a smile appears on her lips when she spots the carton of strawberry ice cream, which she grabs, as well as an ice pack. She moves to the living room, getting settled on the couch. Ice on her torso provides pain relief from her ribs while the frozen dessert she eats directly out of its container helps her throat. 

She finds some documentary on TV and watches it with low volume. Everyone else in the house is still sleeping as the sun is barely up. Before she knows it, the ice cream is gone. She laughs slightly at herself and glances at the clock.

8:00 AM. People will be up soon. Olivia will be over soon too. Yesterday, she had promised to stop by and give a present to Meredith. A congratulations on winning the case. Not that Meredith wants any presents, William got what he deserved, and that's all Meredith needs. 

Footsteps through the house make her jump, her gaze jerking to the doorway, waiting tensely to see who it is. A rugged-looking Derek steps in, blinking sleep from his eyes. 

"You're awake?" He studies her, his brain still clouded and not functioning properly.

Meredith shrugs. "Couldn't sleep."

"Are you okay?" He asks, moving to sit next to her on the couch.

"Not really."

"Physically or mentally?"

"Both." She shrugs again.

Derek nods, looking at the screen of the TV. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends." Meredith cocks her head, looking at him.

"What did he say to you, yesterday in the bathroom?" Derek's eyes are now clear and focused. Since the previous day, all he has been able to think about is what William Dunn told Meredith before he once again tried to strangle him.

Meredith tenses up, closing her eyes. It takes a long minute for her to gather herself before she can respond. "This might sound crazy, but I don't think he was going to kill me."

"What?" Derek shifts, facing her more, showing that she has his full attention.

"He told me we didn't have much time, like he knew that someone was going to find him and stop him. He just threatened me. Empty threats, probably just to mess with me. He had his hand around my throat the whole time, but didn't squeeze until seconds before Olivia came in."

"What kind of threats, Meredith? You know William is still out there." He presses, concerned.

"Nothing. Just...nothing." She avoids his gaze. He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. He's on edge, his gut is telling him that something's up. Something's going to happen. She finally looks at him again. "Can I ask you something?"