It Came Upon A Midnight Clear

5.

The two of them lay beneath the Christmas tree for quite a while, their silent conversation ringing throughout the room as they tried to push aside the butterflies in both of their stomachs.

I'm holding hands with a strange man. Why would I hold hands with a strange man? Well... he seems sincere, polite. He's still a stranger.

Meredith began to withdraw her hand slowly, feeling his fingertips envelop her hand further. His head turned and she could tell that he was looking at her.

"I'll listen to your story, but your hand needs to stay there." He said softly. "Sometimes there are parts of the story that can't be told out loud, but only through body language. I want to make sure I catch everything." He said softly.

He's smooth.

"Okay." She whispered. Her voice was small and nervous, though a quick glance to her side, she could see a mischievous smile. The same one that he had held when she walked downstairs and he had surprised her. "My story." She sighed, turning her face to the tree once again. "I have never had a Christmas even remotely as magical as the one that I witnessed today with your family." She whispered. "My Christmases were usually spent alone... maybe not alone, but with a family friend watching me... bringing me along with their family for their traditions and whatnot." She sighed. She turned her head to face him again. "My mother... is a very busy woman." She shook her head. "It's an awful excuse... to be too busy for Christmas... to be... to busy for your own child on Christmas. I mean... most people in her profession are able to find time for their families... their husbands, their children... but not my mother... her job is her life... it was and it still is, and it always will be. My parents divorced when I was five years old... so any semblance of Christmas before that... I don't even remember. But after that... it was just a day like any other day... I never met Santa... never had the joy of peeking from the top of the stairs to listen for reindeer... or that magical sound of bells... Did you ever notice how magical those jingle bells sound?" She asked, her eye sincere as she watched his eyes.

"I do." He whispered, nodding his head softly as he listened intently. She could feel his thumb softly rubbing the side of her hand, and although it was starting to rise a heat in her like she had never felt before, she refused to move. It was a comforting feeling, a soft delicate thumb softly running across her skin. She could feel her face flushing as she lie there, and was thankful for the darkness of the room.

"I guess... I missed all of those things while I was growing up... and it only became more business like as I grew up, a Christmas card with a gift card inside, or a little extra money in my savings account... very impersonal..."

"The cold wasn't just outside." He said softly, turning his head to face her.

"Exactly." She said, turning her face to him. She smiled sadly, watching his eyes search hers. "What's your story? You have a beautiful family... that obviously loves you. You seem to not be a drunk or a drug addict... Why do you have a sad soul?" Meredith whispered.

"A sad soul? Really?" He asked, his voice sincere as he watched her, seeing her nod as she smiled slightly.

"Yes." She shrugged and looked back at the tree. "Your mother said that you were having a tough year... I listened. I told you my sob story, it's time for yours." She said with a sad smile, her nose crinkling slightly as she turned her face back to him and watched him match her smile.

"My sob story..." He chuckled a little under his breath as he watched her shift to her side, her complete attention on him. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest as she continued to hold his hand with her left, and placed her right hand on his chest as she lay her head down on the carpet. "I... have a non existent social life... a non existent love life, and a non existent... well... life in general." He said sadly. "My whole life has been centered around my family... my loved ones, my friends. I went to college... and then to medical school... and now I'm in my second year of my internship... and its hell... My boss is a slave driver, my teachers at the hospital are rarely free enough to offer any help or advice, and I barely sleep anymore. I was engaged to a woman that I didn't know if I loved... until I found out that she had cheated on me with numerous men on numerous occasions... and my father died in January. I saw my family then... for the two days I was allowed off to grieve... and then I had to get back to work. Before that, I was unable to come home for two Christmases in a row... between med school and work... it was just impossible." He sighed as he turned his head to face the tree, she watched as his eyes filled with tears. "I missed my father's last Christmas." He said, his bottom lip sticking out just slightly as he stared at the lights of the Christmas tree.

"Hey... you can't cry." She said softly, watching him as he slowly turned his head to face her again.

"I can't cry?"

"No." She said, her own eyes filling with tears. "It wasn't part of the deal... I didn't cry during my story, you don't get to cry during yours." She said confidently, her voice wavering slightly.

She watched as his lips curled up into a sad smile, he shook his head a little as a tear fell down his cheek. "No crying?" He whispered.

"No. It's not allowed." She shook her head, her lip sticking out just slightly as she felt a tear rolling down her cheek.

"What if I told you... that Christmas was his absolute favorite holiday?"

"No." She replied, shaking her head, watching as he sat up, releasing her hand.

"What if I told you... that his favorite thing to do for Christmas was decorate the tree... and he would set each one of us up on chairs beside the tree, to decorate a certain level of it... and as tall as you could get, that's as high as your decorations could go... and that he would always lift one of us to put the star on top..." Derek explained, standing carefully beside the tree, he demonstrated how his father held his children. "He would hold us up really high and be sure that we fastened it tightly, and when he was through, he would let us go... into his arms and cradle us softly for a moment before he let us to the ground to see our handywork... and he did it with his children... his grandchildren... and... and... and... he'll never be able to do it with my children." He said with a whimper. "I can't even cry about that?" He asked.

"No... no crying... I don't do crying..." She shook her head.

"Maybe you need to." He said, falling to his knees beside her as he looked down on her. "Maybe you need to... express it and tell your mother how you feel... have you ever told her how you feel? Have you ever told her how much you had missed because of her?"

"What would be the point?" She shrugged. "I can't just tell her that I'm angry that I missed out on all of those Christmases. I can just hope that in the future... I can find someone to make it better... to make all of those lonely times worthwhile. I can find someone that will be able to give me all of the Christmas wishes that I ever wanted, that I could ever hope for. Find someone to share stories with." She sighed, shrugging her shoulder as she watched him stand above her. "You can cry that your father isn't here, Derek... and you can be sad that you missed your last chance to have Christmas with him... or you can take your memories that you have of him and relive them in the future... when you can have children of your own to share them with..."

"Someone to share stories with..." Derek whispered, sitting down beside her again, he lay down carefully on the carpet, instinctively pulling her closer to him. She didn't pull back, and she wasn't sure why. She placed her hand in his, and her other hand on his chest as they stared up at the tree together.

"Someone to hold your hand under the Christmas tree." Meredith whispered, closing her eyes as she began to feel drowsy.

"Someone to hold your hand under the Christmas tree... that you decorated together." He whispered in return, closing his eyes as he too began to feel the drowsiness of the evening closing in.

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