missingthekeep | (no subject)

Somehow, hearing Meredith validate his idiotic little wants and insecurities makes them somewhat easier to bear, and Sean finds himself relaxing again. It doesn't make any of it better by any stretch, but it's also nothing new. Besides, it isn't as if there's anywhere they could run that could magically make them immune to life; everyone leaves eventually and there's an infinite number of ways out there for it to happen. She's got the bruises to prove it. He's got Maeve.

"Someday," he says with a small nod, since it beats giving voice to the rest of it. "Someday it will be. Sorry 'bout all that."

Meredith shakes her head, relaxing again just a little. "No," she says, "no, don't be sorry. I told you I want you to talk to me and I meant it." If this is what happens, then she'll just have to deal with it; it's not like the sentiment's really anything they haven't felt a thousand times before, even if she'd rather have held onto that sense of security just a few minutes longer. He's still here with his arms around her, still warm and hers and perfect in all his imperfections, and in the face of the thought of losing him, it's security enough, if only just barely. She sighs and turns her head to look up at him, thumb running along his cheek. "Someday. We just have to keep believing that." Even if they sometimes have to take turns at it.

"This isnae talkin', it's..." Sean says, turning his head toward her touch but not actually looking at her. He can't seem to come up with the right word to finish the thought, though, so he leaves it be and just trails off with a sigh as his mind wanders. It's worthless, is what it is, and he has a feeling that she's going to have to do most of the believing for the both of them from here on out.

"It's something," Meredith says, leaning up to kiss him. Mostly it's just being unsatisfied with their lot, but she feels they're due a little of that with the way things are these days, even if, right now, when it's just the two of them, no matter how down they are, their lot isn't much to complain about. She pulls away enough to turn onto her other side, trying to ignore the way her ribs protest as she presses back against him. "It's bad, I know it is. Everything lately is just... but we're here. I'm here. And I know it's not perfect, but it's still pretty damn good."

"Right," Sean says with a slow nod, but he doesn't sound all too convinced of it. Nevertheless, he brushes a kiss across her forehead as she settles in again, doing his best to reconsider and mustering up the smallest of smiles as he does so. "We've ne'er been the problem."

"I know," Meredith murmurs, eyes falling shut again as she tries to savor every stray moment of feeling alright. Mostly she just sounds tired. All of this hurts in more ways than one, and that old sense of inadequacy always finds its way back in when she needs it least. "I know that. But I haven't made things better either. I've just made you worry all month and take care of me and I... I just wish I knew how to do the same. How to fix everything."

"No, no, no, no," Sean fervently mutters, leaning back and gingerly pulling her over him, his arms around her protectively. Everything's all muddled in his head right now, but the way he rebels at hearing her talk like that manages to cut through the clutter, even if he's not sure what point he's trying to make, his mouth running ahead of all his thoughts. "Ye make everything better. I'd be so lost without ye, it's jus', it's too much t'fix. That's nae yer fault, it's jus' me, I, I break things, but you... ye're still here. That's all that matters, all I c'n ask from ye."

"You don't," Meredith says slowly, shaking her head. "You don't break things. Not more than I do. Sean, you put me back together." She sighs, settling her head on his chest. She can say it however many times she likes, but he's enough like her for her to know it probably doesn't accomplish anything. No matter how badly he needs her, she still doesn't really see why or feel like she's doing anything at all. Still, as long as he believes it, in this case anyway, that really is what matters. "And I know there's nothing I can do. I just still wish there was."

Sean bites his lip as he stares blankly up at the ceiling, unsure how to reply. He understands that she means it and that it feels unspeakably good to hear, but beyond that, he's having trouble making a connection to her words, assigning any real meaning to them. "I know," he finally says, glossing over the more confusing parts. "But it's al-" he continues before cutting himself off. He can't bring himself to say that it's alright again. Not right now. "We'll get through't."

Meredith lets out a sigh, eyes closing. "We will," she says, quietly emphatic, hand moving slowly along his side. If there's anything she's sure of, at least today, it's that they'll survive this, whether or not anything else does. Dead wives and near murders, drownings and a thousand issues she's never known what to do with and all the rest — they've handled everything else about as well as anyone could be expected to. Anyway, they're still here, so it's close enough, and even if it weren't, it wouldn't matter. They're hopeless without each other. "And in the meanwhile," she continues after a moment, turning her head up to him with a little smile, "at least we know there are still some things we're good at."

Sean can't help but return her look, something in that smile always making him want to start right back up again, whether it's a physical possibility or not. No matter what else is said, no matter what he can come up with to kill the mood or set them back, she's right. "What, each other?" he asks with a chuckle, some of the desperation going out of his voice, though traces linger in his kiss. "When ye're right, ye're right. Speakin' of, how's yer side?"

The slight dimming of her expression is answer enough, but Meredith just shrugs. He doesn't need more weighing on him, some needless guilt for hurting her or whatever when she made her own choices here, and anyway, it's not wholly selfless. The more she says, the less likely it is this'll happen again as soon as she'd like. "A little sore," she admits. It's not quite the right word, but it'll do. "Not too bad. Definitely worth it."

Sean scrutinizes her expression a little more closely than he otherwise might have, but he has to be able to trust that she knows her own limits. He has to be able to trust, period. "If ye say so," he says, not entirely convinced but not pushing, brushing a feather-light touch across the area in question with his fingertips. "So long as we both enjoyed ourselves, I s'pose."

"I say so," Meredith murmurs, eyes closing briefly at the touch before she pushes herself up a little to look at him more directly. Maybe she'll change her mind later, maybe she'll regret it tomorrow, but she meant it when she said she needed it, whatever that says about her. It's not even just the sex, although god knows that's most of it; it's these moments after, when it's just them and the world's still locked outside and she's relaxed enough, content enough, to genuinely believe things will get better. "And I definitely enjoyed myself. And okay, yes, it does hurt some, but we were careful, mostly, and... I don't know about you, but I feel better. I missed this. I think we needed this."

Sean bows his head with a tiny smile, unable to disagree even as the bit about it hurting still leaves him inwardly kicking himself for being so stupid and impulsive. He knows it's only a temporary fix, but he does feel better, overly emotional outbursts aside. Quick fixes are all he has these days. "Needed you," he says, and while it doesn't feel like as eloquent a thought as the one she's going for, it's all he has to offer. "Still do."

Brushing her knuckles over his cheek, Meredith smiles and bites her lip before leaning forward to kiss him, ignoring the protest of her ribs as she presses against him. "You've got me," she says softly. "Always. I always need you." Though she still knows that'll wreck her one day when he's taken from her, she's long past pretending it isn't true. Whether he believes it or not, she can't imagine having held together this long without him. That just makes it all the more important that she be here to keep him together in return, as much as she can, though she still doesn't understand how.

"I'm tryin' t'be worth it," Sean murmurs, suddenly drowsy. Maybe the trying feels like a lost cause these days, maybe it's been quite some time since he's felt like he's been doing right by her, but it's something to live for, and he has to be thankful for that.

Meredith hushes him, settling against him again to press a kiss to his neck. "You are," she says, head dropping to his shoulder. They both need the reminder sometimes, more than she likes, she gets that. It's a difficult thing to believe and this is a difficult time, and maybe some of it wouldn't be as bad if she weren't with him, but a lot of it would be so much worse. "I wouldn't be here if you weren't. You're more than worth it."

It always sounds, to Sean's ears, like he's fishing for that sort of comment, but the truth is that they always still catch him off guard, no matter how much he should know to expect it from her. Eyes closed, he lets himself relax, silencing the urge he gets to deny it and embracing an opposing one. "Say it again?"

"You're worth it," Meredith says, glancing up as if she can gauge his expression from this angle. If he needs to hear it, she has no reason to hesitate, not when she means it entirely. "All of it, every minute, whatever happens..." She lets her eyes close, voice dropping a little, faintly self-conscious as she still sometimes gets about these things. Needing someone this much feels like tempting fate. "I don't know how I managed before you here, I honestly don't. And I don't care what gets thrown at us, I don't care how bad it gets; if I get to be with you, it's worth it."

It astounds him, even with his life in shambles around him, she can still somehow manage to make Sean feel like the luckiest man alive, but there it is. With a quiet noise of appreciation, since he doubts she'd take well to his thanking her for saying it, he tips his head up to kiss her and reaches for the covers. It's too early for sleep, too late for a nap, but he doesn't care, exhausted as he is in more ways than one. "An' ye, as well."

Meredith huffs out a quiet laugh, pulling the covers close against her before slipping her arm over him again. "Mm, good. It'd better be." Maybe she contributes to the trouble, but if he says she makes it better, then that has to be enough. It doesn't really matter what she thinks when it comes to that, does it? Only how he feels about the matter. As long as she helps, that makes it worthwhile, too. She's more pleasantly tired and less appealingly sore than sleepy, the ache in her side throbbing dully, but the idea of moving hardly even occurs to her. "I thought we weren't taking a nap," she says, drowsily teasing.

"Yer fault," Sean says fondly, his eyes already closed. Usually, he's got a tad more ambition than this, but right now, all he wants out of life is to spend it laying here with her and pretending that nothing else exists. "F'r tirin' me out."

"I can live with it," Meredith says, smiling to herself. If it means he gets a little peace and some rest, she's more than satisfied taking the blame for that. Later she'll have to slip out and find a replacement for the evening, but for now, she just nudges him with her knee and says "Go to sleep," before she turns away to keep her weight off her injured side again. She reaches behind her for his hand to pull his arm around her, not tired enough to sleep, but not about to do anything to disrupt the calm while it lasts either.

Sean's nearly there already, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck as he nods off with a slurred whisper of "So perfect." Even broken, she's still perfect, still his, and for the moment, he really can't ask for more than that. Which is fortunate, since he doubts he'd get it anyway.