When the alarm clock chirped to announce it was time for her to rise and shine, Meredith was already awake.
In fact, she had been awake for some time. The uncomfortable feeling she had awoken with in the very early hours of the morning, which she had originally dismissed as loneliness from sleeping by herself for the first time in many weeks, had intensified. It had grown and bubbled up inside, leaving her bereft and uncomfortable and...something else.
She wasn't anxious.
She wasn't nervous.
She wasn't nauseous.
But she was something.
Because she had developed the unmistakable knowledge that something was going to happen today. Something she couldn't prevent; even if she had any idea of what that something may be. Something was going to happen. She knew.
She had a feeling.
Meredith sighed and reached blindly for the alarm clock, only swiping across her nightstand twice before her fingers landed near enough to the off button that she could find it. She sighed again and reached her hand across the far side of the bed, where the sheets were far too cold for her liking.
She had been on late the night before, and Derek had realized it had been two weeks since he had been out at his trailer. He had opted to drive out to check on it, and pick up his mail, and would see her in the morning. She hadn't been scheduled off until very late, so really, there was no reason for him to drive all the way out and back just so they could sleep in the same bed.
She had really believed that the day before. She had really believed it wasn't a big deal; that she could spend one night without him. Without his strong arms wrapped around her. Without his even breathing lulling her to sleep. Without the added warmth of his body under the sheets. It was just one night. Not a big deal.
But that had been before she had a feeling.
And now all she wanted was for the sheets next to her to be warm, heated by his body, keeping her warm. She wanted to have woken in the first hours of the night, only to burrow deeper in his arms and fall back to sleep. She wanted to have been woken up the second time by her alarm clock, and have him smile groggily and make a lewd suggestion about sharing the shower. She wanted him beside her right now. Because right now, she felt cold.
She very reluctantly pulled her stiff limbs out of bed, and padded across the hallway to have a shower alone. And very silently she showered, brushed her teeth and dried her hair. Once she had crossed back into her room and pulled on a set of fresh clothes, the bed looked too inviting and she couldn't help but tuck herself into the left side, inhaling the masculine scent that still lingered on the pillow that, in her mind, now belonged to him.
And so, she lay there, basking in his scent, wishing he was there, and wishing she didn't have a feeling. And wondering why she felt the need to revel in her memories, why she suddenly felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her issues and insecurities, that had been plaguing her less and less these days, were suddenly swelling inside her at an overwhelming force.
Her door swung open, revealing her roommate. Her roommate who was far too bright and perky on normal mornings.
"Meredith!" Izzy exclaimed. "What are you still doing in bed? We have to leave soon."
Meredith groaned and burrowed her head into the pillow.
"Seriously, Meredith. Get your ass out of bed," Izzy demanded as she approached the bed.
"I don't think I want to go today."
"Are you sick?" Without a moment of hesitation, Izzy stuck her hand down onto Meredith's forehead. "You don't feel warm."
"I'm not sick, just... I don't want to go."
"We'll see about that," she muttered as she left Meredith alone.
But she was only alone for a moment to two before Izzy came back with reinforcement.
"Okay, Meredith, why don't you want to go to work?"
"I don't know." She sighed. "I'm just not going."
"But you have to go. You're an intern, saving lives is not optional."
"Yes, it is. I'm staying home," Meredith shot back.
"You're supposed to be helping," Izzy muttered to George, who had remained silent, glancing uneasily back and forth between her and Meredith.
"Uhhh," he stammered, approaching the head of the bed. "Mer, maybe there'll be a horrible accident near by the hospital... cut a bunch of people open... sternotamies, crainitomies...that'd be fun, right?"
"I don't care about surgeries right now." She grumbled, pulling the covers over her head.
There was a faint thump and an 'owe' as Izzy shoved George away from the bed and crouched down. And to Meredith's despair, Izzy pulled the covers back. "Mer," she said softly. "Is this about Derek? Did you two have a fight?"
"No," she said flatly.
"Mer..."
Meredith sighed. "Really, no, Izzy. We didn't have a fight."
"Oh, okay, that's good. It's just...he's been here like every night for a few weeks now and..."
"There was no fighting," Meredith repeated. "He just had to go out to the trailer to get his mail and stuff. It's no big deal." But it was a big deal. Because she could really use a hug from him right now.
"Then why don't you want to go in today?"
"Because I have a feeling." And with that, Meredith pulled the pillow from the other side of the bed overtop of her head, her hand coming down on top to prevent it from being taken. Quiet footsteps thudded out of her room, and for half an hour, Meredith believed she had won.
000
"You have a feeling?" Christina's exasperated voice rand out as she entered the bedroom.
Meredith groaned and pulled the pillow off her head, coming out of her hiding place. "Yes," she conceded.
"What kind of feeling?"
"Like...I might die or something..."
Christina scoffed. "Today? Tomorrow? In fifty years?" She huffed. "We're all going to die eventually! And now we're going to be late! Let's go."
"Christina, come on," Meredith begged. Just leave me to my feeling for the day.
Christina sighed and collapsed onto the side of the bed. "Fine. This is me being supportive."
"Really?"
"Yeah, totally supportive," she stated, her tone belaying a slight wonderment of why Meredith may doubt her intentions, oblivious to the scowl across her face and her rigid posture. Any other time and Meredith would have laughed. "Go," she prompted.
Meredith sighed, inclining her upper body on her arms. "Fine. I feel like..." She huffed. "I hate McDreamy right now, because he's so freaking perfect all the freaking time. And he does things and he says things and he's always...here. And I never needed any of that before, but the jackass makes me want things. He makes me want to be around him all the freaking time. And...one night! I have to spend one night alone, and I couldn't sleep. I woke up like an hour after I went to bed, and I couldn't sleep. And I have a feeling like I could die today. And I don't like that I want him to be here to make me feel better. And I don't like that I apparently can't handle one night without him. And I don't know how much of this freaking feeling is because he's not here, or because I actually have a feeling..."
Christina blinked twice after Meredith's rant. Then she went into action. "Oh, for..." she muttered as she stood up. "You're not seriously making me late because you miss your McDreamy..."
"Christina..."
"No, Meredith. You're upset because you're happy. Do you have any idea how twisted and...pathetic that is?" She paused and ripped the covers off of the bed, leaving Meredith even colder than before. And then she jumped onto the bed, stepping over Meredith, and started kicking. "There are people in this world who have real problems. Get your ass out of bed and get to work. Now!"
And Meredith no longer had any say in the matter, as she was forced to stand before her body was kicked off the bed to the floor. And knowing Christina, she would have been jumping on her until she got up.
000
"I miss Dr. Bailey," George muttered as he followed Izzy, Christina and Alex onto the floor, not taking part in their discussion about who was to be their resident that week.
Meredith found herself alone, suddenly caught in an eerie calm; like she knew the storm was coming. Her fingers toyed with the strap holding her gown around her waist and she shuddered. The feeling wouldn't go away. If anything, it was growing in strength, ready to hit at any moment.
"You alright?" The perfect, dreamy voice she had been missing rang out from beside her. She hadn't expected him in so early. He normally took advantage of the extra hours to sleep on the morning they didn't commute together. And for a second, the feeling gave way to the hope that he had come in early to see her, that he had somehow needed her as much as she needed him.
She turned and offered him a small smile as he approached. It was uncharacteristically empty in the halls around them, so he hooked his arms under hers and pulled her close, pressing his lips against her forehead in greeting. "Good morning."
"Morning," she responded, holding on a little longer when he tried to pull away.
"Meredith," he said softly, his hand finding her cheek. "What's wrong?"
She sighed. "I have a feeling..."
His lips flattened as he nodded. It was still too quiet. "I get those," he whispered, dropping his hand to latch onto hers.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
She tilted her head. "And?"
He offered her a light smile. "If you wait long enough, it'll pass..."
She felt the corners of her lips twitch. "Vague much?"
He shook his head at her. "I'm trying to help."
"Thank-you," she told him quietly. "I'll...wait for it to pass. I don't really have any other options..."
He pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'm here, if you need..."
"I know," she nodded.
"Good."
She sighed. "I should go and catch up to everyone."
He squeezed her hand. "You want to have lunch later?"
"Yeah, that sounds nice. I'll page you?"
He nodded, releasing her hand. "I'll see you then."
"Yeah." She offered him a gentle smile, but was disheartened to realize she wasn't feeling much better; or warmer.
000
Derek wasn't in his normal, upbeat mood. He had, very literally, woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning; the side that should have been occupied by someone else. And it had been harder to fall asleep alone than he had expected. Times where he was forced to sleep in an on call room, or he was alone at his place or hers because she was in the hospital were different. There was a very valid reason to be sleeping alone. But sleeping alone in the trailer, knowing she was alone in her room... He had had trouble getting to sleep. And he had awoken before dawn and had opted to head in to the hospital early.
And then there was the whole issue with the quiet board. He wasn't nearly as superstitious as his old mentor, but years of working in a hospital had taught him to respect certain things. Surgical deaths occurred in certain numbers. If you say it's too quiet, you'll regret it. The ER is always a little more crowded on a full moon. Routine is important. And most importantly, a quiet board did not bode will for the hospital.
He sighed, his mind working back over the conversation with Richard and Dr. Burke. Not Richard and Preston, Richard and Dr. Burke. Because, apparently, Derek was not allowed to call the cardio surgeon by his first name. Even though they had worked together for some time. Even though they had performed many successful surgeries together. Even though their girlfriends are best friends.
Derek had come to Seattle to start over. And so far he had fallen in love with a wonderful woman, and that in itself was fantastic. But he missed having a sense of male camaraderie. Back in New York he had had Mark, four brothers-in-law, all of whom he talked to on a regular basis, and an array of friends in and around his practice. There was no way he was speaking to Mark any time soon. And he was far away from his brothers-in-law, meaning if he called them, he would be forced to speak to his sisters all the time. And in the hospital...well, Dr. Burke was obviously out. And Richard, a man whom had once been his mentor, seemed to regard him with an air of disappointment regarding his relationship with Meredith, which made Derek bitter, as he wasn't doing the same with Burke and Christina. And the department surgeons tended to stick to their own; but the other neurosurgeons were reluctant to be anything more than professional around Derek. He assumed it was because he hadn't risen in the ranks to his position, but had simply been recruited as department head.
He sighed, running his hands through his hair, ignoring the growing sense of distorted calm in his gut. Meredith had a feeling. And now he had a feeling. And he hadn't slept well. And the board was too quiet. And Dr. Burke was always going to be Dr. Burke. And it wasn't passing.
Today was going to be a long day.
000
Stepping up to the nurse's station in the delivery ward, Derek passed some paperwork across the counter to the head nurse, requesting she pass it on to Addison. He had already spent a few hours in his office that morning, catching up on case reports, included the unborn baby with the spinal tumour from the week before.
It had been the first time he and Addison had worked together since their talk. And to his surprise, it had gone rather well. He was finding his anger with her actions dissipating. He didn't hate her anymore. And she, true to her word, was staying out of his way; letting him be happy.
"Hey, guys, what's going on?" He asked, spotting Richard and O'Malley flanking the doors to a patient room.
"Bailey's in there," George spoke up, offering him a nodded greeting.
"Oh, Bailey's back?" He asked happily. It had been too quiet in the hospital since the short resident had been sent home on bed rest. She may be terse and short tempered and straight to the point, but Derek liked having her around. She was a competent surgeon and a truly compassionate person. And he adored her no-nonsense attitude; how she would stand up to anyone, regardless of their position in the hospital, or how much taller they were. "That's excellent," he stated, stepping up the door and peeking through, his mind not correlating the fact that Bailey was pregnant and he was in the delivery ward fast enough.
His stomach lurched at the sight before him and he quickly pulled his eyes away from the glass, shaking his head. "And her cervix is being examined by my ex-wife...which is a visual I will never get out of my head. Thanks for the warning." George had the decency to at least look sorry, but Richard didn't seem to care.
000
The page was not one he wanted to get. Even before he knew the relationship of the very injured patient to the resident he was so attached to, Derek had a feeling. Or rather, his feeling was growing. He had been wheeling his patient towards the OR, knowing he needed to get there as quickly as possible, when Izzy Stevens had come screeching towards them, the patient's cell phone still in her grasp.
"It's Bailey's husband!" She had called, her long legs pumping to catch up to the gurney in time to jump into the elevator with them.
"What?"
"It was George, who was calling," she stuttered. "He was trying to track down Bailey's husband. It's him." She stared wide-eyed down at the patient between them.
Derek had sworn and kicked the wall of the elevator, remembering the conversation he had had with Bailey so many months ago.
"You're married?"
"Ten years today."
It had been a turning point for him. It had made the decision easy. He and Addison had made it to ten years. They had gone out for a fancy dinner. His family and hers had called to congratulate them. He had bought her the requisite diamond earrings, packaged in a tin box to represent ten years. But it hadn't felt special. He hadn't been beaming and proud like Bailey had been. It had just been another day to him. Going out for dinner wasn't special. They did it once a week. Ten years hadn't made him proud. But the thought of tens years with Meredith...that had made a smile dance onto his face. And he had shoved all thoughts of obligation out of his mind, and his decision had been easy. Obvious. Not a decision at all.
But now the husband of the woman who was partially responsible for his happiness was injured. Badly. He had seen patient's die from less. But he knew he couldn't let this man die. Because he had a wife who loved him. And a son who didn't need to be born into the world the same day as his father left it. Derek had grown up without a father. He didn't wish it on anyone. He had to save Bailey's husband.
000
Meredith watched the charge nurse's face pale from her words.
"A...a code black," he tested the words. "Dr. Burke is sure?"
Meredith nodded. "He said to tell you he was sure, and to call the bomb squad." The moment Dr. Burke had turned away from Alex and let his eyes fall on Hannah, Meredith's feeling had doubled, and then immediately settled into a low lying, creeping, hiding sense of 'I told you so.' It had its chance to show its purpose and would now lay dormant for as long as it wished. There was still something more to come
The nurse took a deep breath, calming himself as an ounce of blood returned to his features. He had worked in surgery for a long time. He was well experienced, and although he had never experience this, he was trained for it. He reached for the book of emergency procedures, laughing hesitantly when the pages fell open, landing ominously on the tab labelled 'code black.'
He quickly punched the required number into the phone and held the receiver to his ear. "What's the situation exactly?" He asked Meredith.
"I'm not sure. Dr. Burke just told me to come to you. But I think...I'm pretty sure there's something in the patient."
"Unbelievable," he scoffed. "Just unbelievable." He glanced around, his eyes taking in the empty desk, and then pushed the free phone towards Meredith. "Can you call the main nurse's station for me?"
Meredith nodded, picking up the receiver and pushing the button for the station. "What do you want me to tell them?"
"To page every OR, and demand they evacuate. And then page the chief."
Before she had a chance to ask anything further, the charge nurse began speaking into the phone, and Meredith couldn't help but admire the tone of his voice; calm and rational, with a side of urgent. It was exactly what was needed to be taken seriously and gain a quick response.
Meredith quickly made her phone call, pushing the phone back towards the nurse when she was done. And she stood, stalk still, for several seconds. She had not been trained for a code black. She had, however, known what it was. As a child, she had read her mother's procedure books, often imagining herself working in a hospital. She had memorised every coloured code before she was ten.
But it still didn't mean she knew what to do. She didn't have a resident to report to. And her attending was a little preoccupied. And the chief would be preoccupied soon enough. She knew she should probably return to the main floor to await instructions, but there was something dark and controlling in the pit of her stomach, pulling her back towards the OR.
And so, she returned to the OR, joining the rest of the surgical team outside the doors. And when Dr. Burke demanded they all leave the area, she refused. She had woken up with a feeling. She had known something was going to happen. And now she had to see it through. She would stay.
000
The two way door swung shut behind the head of the bomb squad, swinging ominously back and forth in smaller iterations, until it came to a gentle stop. And for a moment there was silence. Complete, utter silence.
A real code black.
Not a drill.
He had been commanded to evacuate. But there was no way he would leave a patient to die with an open skull flap, especially not Bailey's husband. So he had allowed his team to leave. And he had ordered Dylan Young out of his OR.
He nodded his appreciation at the two individuals who had opted to stay with him. "Well." He cleared his throat. "Let's get this completed as quickly as possible."
"Of course, Dr. Shepherd," the scrub nurse next to him answered.
"Thank-you, both, for staying," he heard himself saying. "But, at any time you want to leave, you go. I will not be responsible for keeping you here."
She shrugged. "It's Dr. Bailey's husband," was her simple answer.
He nodded. "It is."
After a pause and a deep breath, he got back to work. He was going to save Bailey's husband. And he was not going to think about the bomb in the OR next door.
000
All she could do was concentrate of breathing in and out. In and out.
In and out.
The feeling in the pit of her stomach had erupted. The calm was over.
She had had a feeling. And it hadn't been because she had slept alone last night. And it hadn't been because she hadn't been able to sleep. And it hadn't been because she was cold.
She was still cold.
And all she could think about now was that she could die at any moment, and last night she had thought that sleeping alone wasn't a big deal. She didn't want to die knowing she had spent her last night alive cold and alone. What she wouldn't give right now to feel his arms around her , holding her, making her warm again. But Derek wasn't there. He was far away, likely on the main floor, safe from danger.
"What did I do?" She whispered for the umpteenth time.
"What did you do?" Christina demanded. She was wrapped in a protective jacket, scowling as she squeezed the ambo bag. "I'll tell you what you did, Meredith. You did the stupidest, most reckless thing I have ever heard of-"
"Dr. Yang," Dylan said quietly, but very firm. "I let you stay to keep her calm."
Christina silenced herself and stewed.
"You do realize how stupid that was?" Dylan conceded, turning his attention to her as he strapped a protective jacket to her body.
"It was, Mer, incredibly stupid," Christina said, jumping onto the words once again.
"Okay," Meredith found herself saying. "You know when you don't need to be made fun of? Like, when you've got your hand in a body that's got a bomb in it, and a stranger is velcroing a flap jacket to your boobs."
"You've got a sense of irony," Dylan stated, his chin right above her shoulder his arms around her waist, in a position that would be intimate if it weren't for the situation.
"Only when things are really ironic," she snapped back.
Dylan remained silent, his hands working methodically over his body as he did his best to keep her protected. But his hands felt cold against her, even through the clothing, surgical gowns and flap jacket. She was cold.
"I had a feeling," she whispered to Christina.
Her best friend's expression softened, no longer scowling, but...maybe a little worried. She didn't say anything, but she understood.
"What's that?" Dylan questioned, not missing much in his close proximity.
"Nothing," Meredith mumbled. She and Christina had an understanding. They guy who was trying to save her didn't need to know she had woken up knowing she could die today.
Once Dylan was finished with her jacket, he stepped across the room, keeping a close eye on them. He wasn't going to let the situation repeat itself again by leaving the surgical team by themselves. As soon as he had taken his place, Burke pushed through the door. Determined.
"It's time for you to go," he whispered to Christina, reaching for the ambo bag.
And Meredith proceeded to watch as Christina fought to stay, but was slowly denied by Burke. She would have loved for her best friend to be able to stay, but she understood. She wouldn't be able to stay calm if Derek had been in the room. And when Christina finally conceded, and she and Burke shared a quick moment together, Meredith felt her stomach drop out.
She had spent the night alone. The previous day had been busy. They had made their plans for the evening in the hallway in a matter of seconds. She couldn't even remember if she had kissed him goodbye before he had left for the trailer. It had busy and crowded and they didn't like making displays of their relationship at work, so probably not. They must have kissed the previous morning when they had woken up. But she couldn't remember it.
She couldn't remember the last time they had kissed. And they had thrown their last night away. And now she was cold. And there may not be a tomorrow. And all she wanted was to remember what it felt like to kiss him, to fall asleep in his arms, to feel loved. All she felt right now was cold.
000
She honestly felt like she was in a trance. She no longer felt the fear; maybe a defence mechanism, her body protecting itself from the severity of the situation. Right now she was cold and numb and uncomfortable. She wanted this situation to be over, one way or another; she needed this to be over. She needed to get her hand off of the bomb.
But they had to move to a new OR before anything further happened.
Her hand was on an unstable bomb. The OR was sitting above the main oxygen line. The whole hospital could blow up. They couldn't let that happen.
So they were moving, painfully slowly pushing the gurney down the hall. Each step was a chore, careful and deliberate. Dylan's hand was pressed firmly atop of hers, keeping it still, and she found, for the first time, a gratefulness of having the man around. He was talking to her. He was right there beside her, even though his hand wasn't stuck on a bomb. And for a fleeting moment she realized he would have been a good surgeon. He had very steady hands.
"You're doing great," he told her, his hand still preventing hers from moving.
"Let's go over it again," she requested. It was too quiet.
"The device is shaped like a rocket, about eight inches long. We have everything ready; Dr. Burke's team will be in place. My team will be in place. And I'm going to ask to you take the hand that you have in Mr. Carlson, wrap it around the device..."
"And pull it out," she finished, swallowing hard. Even though she felt numb, she knew she should be terrified.
"While keeping it level," he added. That was, apparently, very important. He had said that many times; something about not allowing the insides to shift along the outer walls of the device. The device. She loved that he was head of the bomb squad and he was calling the bomb a device.
"You know I don't like you very much," she told him. Call a spade a spade. It was a freaking bomb under her finger tips.
"I don't like you, either."
And she almost smiled at his honesty.
"What are you doing?" Cristina came running out in front of them, still dressed in surgical garb. She obviously hadn't evacuated the area like Burke had requested.
"We're moving to an OR further away from the oxygen line," Meredith answered flatly. "You know, in case we blow up."
"I distinctly remember Dr, Burke telling you to leave," Dylan spoke up, as she and Cristina had ignored his quieter demands.
"Where is he?" Cristina asked.
"He's prepping the OR."
"Then he'll never know, will he?" Cristina challenged, for the first time glancing towards Dylan.
After a moment, he conceded and let her stay, far away, but still...it was something. And Meredith needed something right now.
"Tell me something," Meredith found herself demanding. She couldn't take the silence. And she definitely couldn't take another run down of what was about to occur. She would live it soon enough.
"What?"
"Cristina. I have my hand on a bomb. I'm freaking out. It's too quiet. And most importantly, I really have to pee. Tell me anything."
"He told me he loved me. Last night. He thought I was sleeping, but I heard him say it."
Meredith sucked in a breath. When was the last time Derek had told her? "Burke loves you."
"Yeah," Cristina stated, before telling Dylan to mind his own business.
"Burke loves you," Meredith repeated. When has she last told Derek?
"Okay, everybody has problems..."
And in that moment, Meredith was grateful for her best friend. Because Cristina wasn't looking at her like the poor girl who was about to die. She was looking at her like her friend. And she was acting as such. "Well, are you going to say it back?" Meredith needed to conversation to continue. She needed the focus to be on something else. And she was getting further and further away from her friend, even at their glacial pace.
"Of course not," Cristina sputtered. "He didn't say it to me me, he said it to the sleeping me. Reciprocity is not required." She paused. "Plus, he might blow up..."
Meredith almost smiled. "Excellent point." They were getting too far away. Meredith needed the moment to last a little longer. She looked back at her friend, only to be jarred to a stop when the wheels of the gurney suddenly stopped moving.
And silence reigned again.
All she could hear was the deep hammering of her heart beat, throbbing against her chest wall. She wasn't numb anymore. The fear was inching its way back into her being. It was too real. She swallowed hard; silently following commands as Dylan bravely led his team onward.
"Cristina," she found herself calling back, once again risking a glance over her shoulder. Her best friend was getting distant. "I..." She felt tears prick the back of her eyes. "If I..." She didn't need to finish the sentence, "Will you tell Derek for me?"
Cristina nodded.
And that was the last she saw of her friend. Her moment was over. Reality was setting in like sharp knives striking deep into solid wood and remaining; impossible to remove.
It was almost time.
000
"How's it going out there, Yang?" The intern had disappeared unexplained into the halls for far longer than Derek had liked. Something was going on.
"Everything's fine." There was something in her tone, a vulnerability that wasn't in her character.
"How's the girl with the bomb?"
"How's he doing?" She countered, her attention falling on Tucker.
"He's almost there," Derek responded. "You didn't answer my question."
"Sir?" She asked, but the tone of her voice told him she was avoiding something.
"How is the girl with the bomb?"
There was a pause before she answered; a horrible, elongated, painful pause. And in that moment he knew what she was going to say before she opened her mouth. He didn't know how that was possible, but it happened. He suddenly knew Meredith wasn't far away, on the main floor, safe from the danger. But it didn't make it any easier to hear.
"It's Meredith. The girl with the bomb is Meredith."
Derek felt his head spin to meet Cristina's gaze, searching for some sign of deception, even though he knew.
This had to be a mistake.
But before he could respond, a portentous tone filled the room.
Bailey's husband was losing his fight.
000
Tucker should have been dead. He had coded for too long. He had been unresponsive to too many rounds of epi, too many compressions.
But he had come back. And Derek had fixed the remaining damage. And now all he had to do was close. But he couldn't.
For the first time in his career, Derek's hands were shaking too hard to hold a scalpel against human flesh. Meredith's hand was on a bomb. She was seconds away from him, but he couldn't get to her. He couldn't save her. He couldn't take her away from the danger.
He also couldn't close.
"Dr. Shepherd?" His scrub nurse asked, concern lining her voice.
He nodded. He needed to finish so that he could let them out of danger. He needed to close. "I know. I'm sorry. I..." He shuddered, taking a step back from the table.
"I'm sure Dr. Grey will be fine," she offered quietly.
He squeezed his eyes shut, silently counting to five, forcing his diaphragm to stop contracting on its own accord. "Dr. Yang," he said when he opened his eyes. "Could you go and get us an update?"
Cristina nodded and turned for the door.
She was half way across the room when the ground shook. Light emanated down the hallway, flashing through the small window like a strike of lightning. A blast echoed through his ear drums. The lights flickered.
And he was out the door of the OR faster than he processed what had happened.
He didn't stop to put down his instruments, must have simply dropped them on the way, followed by his gloves. Afterwards, he would have had no idea how he had removed his head light. Or how he had beaten Cristina to the door. Afterwards he would have had no recollection of screaming her name.
It was dark in the hallway. The back up power wasn't connected to those lights. Small pieces of debris floated downwards from the ceiling. The windows to the center desk were blown out, tiny shards of glass lay everywhere. The air had a tinge of pink to it.
But Derek didn't see any of that.
He only saw the small, crumpled form lying prone on the floor before him. Silent. Still. Broken.
"Meredith!" He skidded to a top, dropping to his knees, not even feeling the small pieces of glass that cut through his scrub pants and bite into his knees. "Meredith," he repeated her name, quieter, his fingers falling to her neck, searching for a sign that she was alive.
Cristina dropped to her knees on the other side of Meredith. The door opened down the hall and one of Burke's scrub nurses came out, eyes wide.
Again, Derek didn't notice.
The artery under his finger throbbed. And he found he could breathe again.
"She has a pulse!" He practically yelled. "She has a pulse. She has..." He choked on his words. "It's even. And strong." His thoughts were being vocalized. He couldn't think in his head right now. Everything was going in slow motion. Everything was overly simple. "She's alive."
He moved his hand upward to cup her face. A drop fell from his. And it was then that he realized he was crying. "Oh, Mer..." He carefully brushed the dirty hair from her face, cringing at the cut along her forehead. It looked shallow. Not enough to warrant stitches. Not enough to indicate head trauma.
She still wasn't moving.
"I need a gurney," Derek commanded, without looking up. She was on the floor. She had obviously fallen, been forced off her feet by the explosion. There could be head trauma against the back of her skull. There could be a counter coup against her frontal lobe. She could have damaged her spine. She could have-
She moaned. And opened her eyes. And blinked.
"Meredith?" He leaned over her, trying to meet her eyes, but disconcerted when she didn't meet his. "Mer, it's me. Tell me what hurts."
She blinked again, but said nothing.
He held back a sob. She wasn't responding. Her beautiful face was covered in blood. Her body could be broken. Her eyes were distant.
"Mer, please..." He shuddered.
Her hand twitched, and then her arm lifted, reaching towards him, wobbly, uncertain, but deliberate.
He latched onto it, both figuratively and symbolically. He threaded his fingers through her and took this as a sign of hope. Movement of the upper extremities. That was a good sign. That ruled out an upper spine injury. She was responding to him. That meant her limbic system was still on line.
He squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back.
And it was all he could do to stop himself from collapsing right then and there.
She groaned again. And then made a small noise that could have been a cough. And then another. And she cringed. But her other arm was moving, sweeping slowly over her torso as she re-familiarized herself with her body, reassured herself it was still there.
Then she sucked in a breath.
And her eyes seemed to come alive. And they finally met his. "Derek..." It was barely a whisper. But it was there.
He offered her a small smile. "There you are."
She squeezed his hand again.
"Don't try to move. We're going to get you on a gurney and get you to the floor. Okay?"
She closed her eyes, and he knew she understood. He pressed his free hand against her cheek again, trying to transfer some warmth into her cold skin. "You scared the hell out of me."
She opened her eyes. "Sor..." But the words died on her lips.
He shook hid head gently. "Don't try to talk. We'll have plenty of time to talk later."
She squeezed his hand.
"Just know that I love you."
She squeezed it again, harder.
He smiled. "I know."
"Dr. Shepherd? I got the gurney."
Derek turned his head to see Burke's scrub nurse behind him. He hadn't even heard the gurney being wheeled up to him. The three of them carefully lifted Meredith onto the gurney. She barely moved during the process.
"Okay." Derek took charge once she was settled. "We'll take her upstairs. You can go back to Dr. Burke," he told the scrub nurse with a nod. "Thanks for your help."
"Okay, Dr. Shepherd." She replied with a smile. She turned for the door.
"Wait!" Cristina called out. "Don't tell Dr. Burke that I was out here."
She scrunched her forehead, but nodded. "I won't, Dr, Yang."
Derek walked along beside the gurney, holding tightly to Meredith's hand, as Cristina pushed it along. They reached the elevator, and Derek pushed the button.
"This is as far as you go, Shepherd."
He turned to Cristina, surprised. "What?"
She shook her head. "You need to go back and finish with Tucker."
Derek started. "I didn't even..." remember. He swore under his breath, glancing down at Meredith's prone form.
"She's fine. We'll take care of her. Just finish with Tucker. Nobody else needs to die today."
He breathed. "Okay." He nodded. "Okay." He leaned down, his face close to Meredith's. He eyes were closed, but he knew she was still conscious, still listening.
"Meredith, I need to finish with Tucker. Cristina will take you up and I'll be there as soon as I'm done. Okay?"
Her eyes opened a crack and she squeezed his hand, held onto it for a moment, and then let go. Her eyes fluttered shut.
"I'll see you soon," he reiterated, brushing his hand over her face one more time. She leaned into his contact.
The elevator opened. Cristina gave him a look. He sucked in a breath and nodded. "Okay." And he watched as the doors closed behind them. "Okay," he mumbled himself. His chest felt tight, like his heart and lungs were too big for his chest cavity.
He stumbled down the hall to his OR, and cracked open the door.
His two remaining surgical team members looked highly relieved to see him.
"How is he?" Derek asked.
"Stable."
"Good."
"How's...Dr. Grey?" She asked carefully.
He nodded. "She's okay, got caught in the blast."
"And the bomb squad?"
Derek started. He hadn't allowed himself to think about how the bomb went off out in the hall with Meredith just out of range. The air had been pink. He remembered that now. His heart constricted. "I, uh, I'm not sure...but I don't think it's good news."
"Damn," she muttered.
"Yeah." He breathed. "I just have to scrub back in. I'll be back soon."
"Of course, Dr. Shepherd."
He paused at the door. "Thank-you, both, for staying through this. We couldn't have saved Tucker's life without both of you."
The door swung shut behind him and he stumbled into the scrub room, his breathing shaky. He was halfway through washing his hands, determined to be as quick as possible, when his breathing hitched violently.
He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked air into his lungs, forcing them to expand. He wheezed. The world began to spin. He staggered into the back wall and lowered himself to the floor, where he sobbed openly.
He had almost lost her forever.
She had come far too close to leaving him.
He ran his wet hands through his hair and clenched onto his locks tightly, willing himself to calm down.
She was fine. She was going to be fine. He was going to finish his surgery, and then he was going to see her.
He just needed to stop crying first.
000
Two floors. They only had to travel down two floors to the main floor. But the elevator felt like it was stuck, unmoving, floating in the air, refusing to take them to their destination. Derek jabbed at the button again, as if that would increase their pace.
"I'm sure she's fine."
"You wouldn't be saying that if it had been Cristina," Derek snapped.
Burke paused. "Yes, I suppose you're right."
Derek felt his body calm. "I'm sorry."
The older surgeon shook his head. "Don't be. It was very close. She..."
"She what?"
He sighed heavily, realizing he was committed. "Right before she pulled the bomb out, she finally cracked a bit under the pressure. She was scared. And she said she wanted to make sure that George and Izzy could stay in the house. And that she wanted you to know that she loved you." He paused. "And that she's glad you jumped off the cliff with her... I assume you know what that means."
Derek swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "I can't believe how close she came to-" He couldn't even say it.
The elevator finally came to a stop on their floor, the doors opening to reveal a crowd awaiting them.
"Derek," Burke acknowledged as they stepped onto the main floor together.
"Preston."
Most of the attention was on Burke when they were engulfed into the mob of people. Cristina would have given an update on Tucker, so his condition wasn't a surprise. Derek's team, which had grown after the threat had no longer been an issue, were taking him to the general ICU. All of the surgical ICUs were still closed and un-staffed. Apparently the entire surgical wing had been evacuated.
"Where is she?" Derek demanded, having swept by the patient's rooms and not caught sight of his girlfriend. "Where is she?"
"Calm down, Derek." Richard commanded.
"No, you don't get to tell me to calm down. I had to see her like that and then send her away with Yang and go back to my patient. Now, where is she?"
"Derek. She's fine. We took scans. Everything was negative. She'll be sore and she probably has a mild concussion. But she's fine."
"Where is she?" He repeated. He was losing his temper.
"Dr. Bailey could really use an update, from you, on her husband first, Derek."
He shook his head. "Absolutely not."
"Derek-"
"Absolutely not!" He repeated.
"Her friends took her to their locker room to clean her up," Adele said quietly, ignoring the glare from her husband.
Derek blinked. He hadn't even noticed her. And he didn't have time to wonder why she was there. "Thank-you." And he was off, ignoring Richard's requests as he ran through the halls.
He flung open the door to the intern locker room. It was empty. He strode through the rows of lockers. There was no one there. He was about to give up when he heard a noise from across the room, and he was shoving open the door to the women's shower before he realized.
"Dr. Shepherd!" Izzy cried out in surprise. She and Cristina were dressed in very wet scrubs. Meredith was between them, sturdy on her own two feet, wrapped in a towel. But her eyes were vacant.
The breath was knocked out of him. She was standing. Richard had said she was fine.
"Dr. Shepherd, we'll be done in a few minutes if..." Izzy was saying, but he wasn't listening.
"Oh, Mer," he whispered, striding across the damp floor in three quick steps before pulling her into his arms. She was freezing against him, despite the steam in the air. The cut on her forehead was red and puffy. She was very passive, not participating in the hug at all. Her arms remained pressed tightly around her middle; protective.
But she was standing. And she was breathing. She was alive.
And right now, that was all he needed.
"Dr. Shepherd, seriously, I'm not sure this is appropriate..."
"Oh, shut up," Cristina hissed at Izzy. "He's seen her in less than a towel."
Derek shut them out and closed his eyes, tightening one arm around her waist as the other ran up her back to her hair. He was disconcerted that it didn't smell like it usually did after she showered; flowery and perfectly her.
She moved just a bit in his arms; shifted.
"She hasn't said anything," Cristina offered. "After she got her scans she kind of shut down."
"Cristina!" Izzy hissed. "She can hear you."
"So? She knows. She was there."
Izzy rolled her eyes. "Still..."
Derek sighed and pulled back, searching her empty eyes for a sign of her. Her pupils were downcast, staring unseeing at the floor. He ducked his head and struggled to meet her gaze. There was no response for many moments. And then her irises flickered and he found her staring back at him.
"Derek..." she whispered. Her torso hitched.
"I'm here. I'm here," he repeated, pulling her close again.
She lifted her arms and pushed against his chest, keeping him away long enough to wrap her arms around his neck. "Derek," she said again.
"Hey," he shushed her gently. "You're okay. I'm here."
Her breathing hitched again and she tightened her grip.
"I love you so much, Meredith." He was surprised to feel tears on his cheeks. He had come far too close to losing her.
"I love you." She shuddered. "I couldn't remember the last... I tried but I couldn't..."
"Shhh, it's okay. You're okay."
She was silent for many moments, clutching to the fabric above his shoulders. Derek opened his eyes and met those of her worried friends. Izzy politely averted hers, but Cristina met his gaze evenly. They shared understanding. Meredith meant a lot to both of them. And maybe they were the only ones who knew just how close she had come.
Meredith shuddered violently in his arms, and his attention was back to her. "Hey...you're okay..." He repeated.
"He's gone," she choked out.
"Hmm?"
"The bomb squad guy. Dylan. He's gone. He..." She shook her head. "I watched...I saw him..." Her voice cracked. "He's gone. And the other guy, from the bomb squad. I didn't even know his name..."
"Oh, Mer..." He soothed, even as his heart was constricting in response to her pain. Over her shoulder Izzy's eyes were filling with tears and Cristina was looking determinately stoic. "Nothing that happened today was your fault. You saved your patient."
"And Hannah," Cristina added. "If you hadn't stepped in, she would have released the bomb without any support."
Derek nodded his appreciation as Meredith stilled.
"I saw..." She whispered.
"I know. I'm so sorry."
"I was mean to him."
"Me too."
She breathed evenly and her grip around his neck tightened as she released her hold on his scrub top. "I want today to be over."
"It will be soon. I'm going to take you home. We'll get you away from the hospital, okay?"
She nodded.
The door behind Derek opened.
"Shepherd," Richard's exasperated voice rang out in the small room. "What are you doing in the women's shower?" Meredith burrowed against his chest at the new presence in the room.
Derek ignored him, turning his body to completely hide Meredith from the chief, even though she was wearing a towel, he felt the need to hide her away, keep her safe and protected.
"Derek." He prompted.
Izzy and Cristina looked uncomfortable.
"I'm hugging my girlfriend. Last time I checked, that was allowed after everything that happened today."
"This is the women's shower."
"And yet, you're in here too."
There was a pause. The chief changed his tactics. "I still need you to talk to Dr. Bailey. She deserves to know what's going on with her husband."
"Tucker is fine. She knows that."
"Derek..."
He sighed. Meredith took a breath and slowly withdrew her arms.
"It's okay, Derek. Go talk to Dr. Bailey," she said quietly.
He shook his head. "No, it's fine-"
She pressed a hand to his chest and offered him a brave smile. "I'm okay, Derek."
He nodded. "And I need to take you home."
"I still need to get dressed. Go and talk to Bailey. And then you can take me home."
His heart skipped a beat at her brave insistence. "Are you sure?"
She nodded.
He leaned down and pressed his lips against her lips. And then her cheek. And her forehead. "I'll be back soon."
"Take your time. Bailey deserves it."
000
Dr. Bailey was holding a small bundle in her arms when Derek stumbled into her hospital room. Addison was sitting on the couch.
"Derek," Bailey whispered upon catching sight of him, her eyes welling with tears. "Thank-you."
Derek nodded. "Just doing my job." He greeted Addison with a nod.
She scoffed. "You're one of this hospital's cockiest, most arrogant surgeons, and you pick now to be modest? Addison told me about the code black. And that you..." her voice cracked. "That you stayed. They you refused to evacuate." She took a breath. "Derek, I can't thank you enough."
Derek stepped forward, reaching for her hand and giving it a tight squeeze. "Don't worry about it. I would never leave any patient in that situation, especially not one of our own."
She nodded. "The chief said there were some complications?" She asked quietly.
Derek nodded and proceeded to talk her through the surgery, but maybe not emphasizing just how close it had come when he had flat lined.
"And he's stable now?"
Derek nodded. "His heart monitor barely blipped out of his normal rhythm after that one time."
"Thank-you," she said again.
He shook his head. "You're welcome, again." He smiled, motioning towards the little bundle in her arms. "How's the future surgeon?"
She smiled downward at her son, her attention momentarily off the horrible day. Derek had four sisters, and he knew enough to know that mothers could always be distracted by asking about their kids. "He's perfect," she said, her voice soft and awed like he had never heard it.
"I'm glad to hear it. Does he have a name yet?"
"William. William George Bailey Jones."
He smiled. "That's a good name." He reached a hand out, hooking his pinky in William's hand. The new baby closed his fist automatically. "He's got a good grip."
Bailey glanced at his face and narrowed her eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I'm sorry?"
"You don't look relieved and happy this day is over. You're withholding." She paused. "Is it Tucker? Is there something you're not telling me?" She spoke harshly, but there was a hint of vulnerability behind her voice.
"Tucker is fine," he reassured. "I promise."
"Then what is it?"
He sighed. "Meredith got caught in the blast when the bomb went off." There was a gasp behind him.
"Is she okay?" His ex-wife asked quietly.
He turned and met her eyes. And didn't find anything but concern.
He nodded. "She has a mild concussion. She must have been thrown back twelve feet..." He swallowed. "She'll be fine."
Bailey shook her head. "How did it go off?"
He sighed. "I'm not sure. They were in the middle of extricating it."
"And the bomb squad?"
He shook his head. "At least two members didn't make it."
Bailey closed her arms around her son, and Addison shook her head. "I hadn't heard anyone had died."
"Yeah, well, Meredith watched them blow up right in front of her. So I'm taking that to mean they died," he snapped.
Addison looked shocked at his harsh words. "Derek, I only meant-"
He held up a hand. "I'm sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "That was out of line. I'm just..." He shook his head. "I don't think I've ever been so terrified before."
"Have you...seen her?" Addison asked gently.
He nodded. "Briefly. I wanted to give you," he turned to Bailey, "An update before I took her home."
"Thank-you for the taking the time Derek."
He nodded. "Dr. Krycheck is here now to keep an eye on Tucker. And I'll be close by if anything goes wrong. But try not to worry yourself. Tucker is stable and should be just fine."
Bailey nodded. "Thank-you, Derek." He eyes welled. "Thank-you for saving my family."
He smiled. "You're welcome." He turned to leave, nodding a goodbye to his ex-wife.
"Oh, and Derek?" Bailey called. "Tell my intern she's in big trouble for putting her hand on that bomb..."
He cracked a smile and left her room laughing.
000
She could walk steadily on her own, but Derek found himself matching her sore strides, his arm around her waist. Just in case. He led her up the driveway and front steps. She didn't seem to mind the closeness as she leaned against him. They were the first ones home. Izzy and George were sticking around for a few hours to help out. They would all be given a few days off afterwards. Derek struggled one handed to pick out the right key and easily opened the front door to her house.
"I knew I gave you that key for a good reason."
He smiled at her attempt to make a joke. She had been very quiet on the drive home, only speaking when he prompted her. "Yes," he agreed. "It's come in very handy."
"I'm glad," she told him. "I think you should use it all the time."
"Hmm?" He took her coat and hung it beside his own in the closet.
"Last night sucked. I'm not used to not having you here." Her voice was low and flat, but she was being open. The intensity of the day had been enough to suppress her inhibitions. "And one of the only things I could think about today was that I might die, and we didn't sleep in the same bed last night..." She sighed. "And that may be pathetic; but it's how I feel."
"So, you're saying..."
"I'm saying that I don't want to sleep alone anymore."
"Okay." He leaned close and kissed her forehead. She wasn't saying the words, but he understood anyway. And it wasn't the time to talk about making anything official, but for now he was happy. "I don't want to sleep alone either."
She breathed. "Good."
He threaded his fingers through hers. "Do you want something to eat?"
She shook her head. "No. I just want to sleep."
He nodded and quietly led her upstairs to their bedroom. She changed into her pajamas while he left her to have a quick shower of his own, as if he could wash the horrible day away if he scrubbed hard enough.
When he returned to their room, she was curled up on his side of the bed, dressed in one of his old tees. She was still and silent, but he knew she was still awake. He pulled on his own tee shirt and a pair of boxers and slipped into bed behind her, his arms reaching around her waist as he spooned her, and pulled her as close as he could.
"You're on my side," he whispered into the back of her head.
"It's nice on this side."
He smiled, his fingers slipping over the thin fabric across her abdomen. "And, you stole my shirt..."
Her small hands found his, stilling his fingers. "You have lots of shirts."
"Still..."
She settled closer to him, knowing he was just teasing her. The truth of the matter was he loved seeing her in his clothes. "You gave it to me."
He chuckled. "I did not."
"Well, you should have..."
He pressed his lips against the back of her head. "Whatever you say."
Meredith revelled in the feelings of finally being back in his arms. She could now recall their last kiss, their last I love yous. She felt safe.
"They blew up right in front of me," she whispered.
"I know."
"He was there and then he was gone..."
His grip tightened around her waist. "I'm so sorry."
She sniffed.
"You almost died today," he continued when she didn't respond.
"Yeah, I almost died today." It was a weird thing to say, like she could keep saying it, but would never fully comprehend it. She couldn't die yet. She hadn't been happy for nearly long enough. Derek was beginning to promise her a future.
He buried his face into her hair. "I'm glad you didn't die today."
She squeezed his hands. "Me too."
They were silent for many moments.
"Meredith?" Derek finally broke the quiet moment. "Your hair smells wrong."
"Wrong?"
He inhaled and shook his head. "It usually smells different...better...like some kind of flower."
She smiled. Of course he would notice. "Lavender. It usually smells like lavender, from my conditioner."
"Lavender..."
"I'll shower first thing tomorrow morning; fix it."
"Good." He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was lighter then it had been all day. "I'll even join you if you want..."
She let herself laugh, and it felt damn good. "I think I like that idea."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She sighed and sank into his embrace, letting him support her. A single tear rolled across her cheek in response to her day. Derek's grip tightened and she smiled. "I love you, Derek."
"I love you too, Mer."
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off in his arms, instinctively knowing that she was safe. And for the first time since she had woken up in the very early hours of the day, Meredith felt warm.