"You realize how stupid that was."
"It was, Mer. Incredibly stupid."
"What were you thinking, huh?"
Meredith snaps her head towards me, a stern expression on her face. All the while, Cristina pumps the ambu bag.
Dylan Young, whom we've grown quite close to, finishes strapping the bomb vest around Meredith, which is mostly there for false hope than actual protection.
Burke forces a reluctant Cristina out of the O.R., and she only agrees when Meredith and I assure her. Once she leaves, I take over with the bag.
"Phoenix." Burke stops beside me. "Your father called."
"What is this, the third grade?" A scoff releases under my breath.
"He wants to know if you've taken your pills."
My body freezes in shock.
"What pills is he talking about?"
"Dr. Burke —"
"I asked her, Grey. Not you."
The back of my throat constricts just as I open my mouth. "I. . .they're for my illnesses. Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy and C.O.P.D.."
"For God's sake, Phoenix. . ."
"Look, it's okay if I skip a dose, Dr. Burke." My lips part, and a breath escapes. "It's not like I'm gonna. . .oh."
Unlike daily vitamins, skipping a dose can cost me my life.
"You have to leave, too."
"Don't make me."
"Leven."
I catch Meredith's glance and see her nod once.
"Go."
A light sniffle tickles my nose, and I slowly walk towards the door. My fingers clutch the handle, and I leave.
I'm met with Cristina standing just outside the door, the same look of shock and fear expressing her face.
"He kicked you out, too?"
"I forgot to take a dose."
Her gaze shifts to lock with mine, and tears instinctively prick my eyes. My hand rips off the mask over my mouth while I chew the inside of my cheek.
"She won't die, will she? Because she can't."
I walk through the rest of the hall, silently eating a candy bar before having to take the two pills. The rest of the O.R.s have been evacuated, but I notice the light still turned on in one of them.
A body lays across the table, while a surgeon works on the head.
Dr. Shepherd.
"This area has been evacuated."
"Then, why are you here?"
He looks up at me, recognizing my voice in an instance. "I have to be here, Leven. You don't."
"I have to." A shaky sigh slips from my lips.
"Leven."
"I have to, Derek."
Paired with the stillness of the room, I feel as if time has stopped. . .every moment I've shared alone with Dr. Shepherd. . .doesn't compare to this.
"You're all alone in here, D-Derek." My voice shakes from the use of his first name. "You and I, we're in need of company."
The surgical gown sits wide over my shoulders since no one else is around to tie me up.
"Meredith has her hand in the bomb."
"What?"
"Hannah, the paramedic, ran off. But before anything could happen. . .Meredith slipped her hand inside the body cavity."
"It's going to be —"
"Don't tell me it's going to be okay. Especially when there's a huge possibility it's not."
Quiet breaths plus the beeps from the machine fill the room as we work. He asks for a surgical tool, I give it to him. If he needs something retracted, I hold the device.
"Micro-scissors, Leven."
I glance back to see Dylan's crew slowly creeping through the hallway.
"Is there something going on out there?"
"I. . .I don't know."
Suddenly, a flash of Meredith's pale blue scrub cap moves into the frame of the thin, rectangular glass window.
"They're moving the bomb."
I move to walk out of the room, to follow after them.
"Leven, stay."
"Dr. Shepherd —"
"No." Even if I can only see his eyes, they hold so much. . .feeling. "I want you to stay right here. . .with me."
Surprisingly, I find myself nodding my head in agreement. "Okay."
A few more minutes of tense silence passes, and my mind keeps drifting to Meredith and Burke, specifically what is going on through their heads.
"Leven, I want you to know that I —"
Beep.
The long tone of a flatline captures our attention, rendering anything Derek was about to say into nothing.
"Damn it, we're losing him."
I press two fingers against his right wrist. "He has a thready pulse."
"Push one of epi."
The needle inserts the I.V. tube, and I push the liquid into his system. The heart machine continues to emit the grueling low tone.
"Nothing." He states after a few seconds. "Okay, get me a wet lap. We're going to roll him on three, got it?"
"Got it."
Still, his status doesn't change. But knowing this is Bailey's husband on the table, Derek refuses to stop trying.
"Come on, come on, come on."
"It's wide complex bradycardia, Derek."
One hand continues to perform manual C.P.R. while the other gathers another vial of epinephrine along with atropine.
"You cannot do this to me, Tucker! You cannot quit on me!" Derek growls at the unconscious man, wanting nothing more than to revive him.
When all else fails, Derek forces the ambu bag into my hand before resuming compressions himself.
"Derek."
"No."
His fist hits the center of Tucker's chest, and the flatline sound stops. The heart rate comes back up to normal, beeping at a rhythmic pace.
After we make sure he's stabilized, Derek closes him back up and sends him into an I.C.U. room for post-operative recovery.
"Aren't you coming?"
He stands in the center of the elevator, dressed down into his standard navy blue scrubs. I glance back at the O.R., where Meredith's about to remove the bomb.
"I'll be right there. I just. . .forgot something."
He flashes a gentle grin in my direction just before the elevator doors shut. I hurriedly rush to the opposite end of the hallway and watch Dylan carry the bomb out slowly.
Keeping my distance, I mutter a soft thank God under my breath. Meredith soon follows, her bulletproof vest and bloodied gloves still on.
"Meredith —"
Boom!
Shards of glass and pieces of debris fly from the center of the bomb, sending Meredith flying back onto the ground. Once the smokey air clears, I notice her unconscious figure lying still.
"God, Mer."
A hacking cough rattles my chest. My knees shake with every step I take towards her before dropping to the floor.
"Help."
----------
"There's someone at the door for you."
Izzie stands at the door to Meredith's room, a somber look on her face. I finally move my stare away from the ceiling, after thirty minutes of slipping into a dream-like trance.
"Me? I don't even live here."
"Well, he's asking for you."
With my body stuffed into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of biker shorts, I start my walk down the stairs. At the foot of the door. . .is Derek.
"How'd you know I'd be here?"
"After what happened today. . .I figured you wouldn't want to go back to your apartment."
Scar lets out a soft whine, his mouth closing after yawning. My fingers scratch him behind the ears, and he leans into my touch.
"I was looking for you today. After. . ."
"After I didn't join you in the elevator."
He nods lightly. "I. . .was afraid."
"That the bomb would explode?" My palms press against my aching hips. "Because it did."
"I was afraid that you were dead."
"Why?"
". . .I don't know."
"Well, I didn't die, okay?" I turn in a circle. "As you can see, I am doing very well on my own."
"Leven, I just wanted to say —"
"Good night, Dr. Shepherd."