This is just a short fanfic about what I want to happen in the next season of greys. I hope you can connect to this the same way you connect to the show even though this might not do the show justice.

Now, I know the first chapter is short but I'm out of time. Please review!

We're all broken. In some way, we're all broken. Some of us are more fragile than others, we break more easily. Some of us are stronger, but we break all the same.

'Meredith, are you okay?'
'I'm fine,' I told Derek in my flat voice.
'Are you sure?'
'Yes Derek!' I said rather impatiently, 'I am fine!'
'Meredith, it's okay you know. To be not fine, just for once.'
I sighed, 'I. Am. Fine.'

There was a long silence as he looked over me with those big dreamy concerned eyes of him.
'Alright then,' he said, finally taking his eyes of me and leaving me alone.

As surgeons, we want to be strong, we pretend to be strong. But somewhere, along the way, somehow, we all break.

Previously…

Meredith is standing over John Doe, who is writing on her palm with her finger.

I tried to hand him my pen, 'D'you want to try write again? Can you hold this?'
He ignored the pen and started writing on my palm, 'O. O. … 7?'I was confused, what was he trying to tell me?He started again, 'Double O…,' He traced the outline of seven onto my palm.
Suddenly it hit me. John Doe was George. My George. Our George. I gasped and started crying out, 'Oh God! Oh God.'

'Alex, what are you doing?' Cristina asked trying to keep an eye on everything, 'Alex it's not what she wants. She signed a DNR.'

'I don't give a crap what she signed!' Alex exclaimed in frustration, trying to set up the incubation tray, 'Get a crash cart, get a crash cart!' he cries in desperation, as Izzie flatlines and he starts CPR.
Alex looks around franticly as the chief makes a decision on weather to resuscitate Izzie.
'Screw the DNR! Hand me those paddles,' Chief Webber says.

End flashback.

I kept lying in my bed, not moving, not speaking, just thinking. Suddenly Derek burst into the room.
'Are we going to talk about this Meredith?'
Oh god, I told myself, he was in the mood.
'Are we going to talk about this?' he repeated.

I stayed where I was, not giving him any indication that I was listening to him.

He walked over to me, clearly pissed, 'We are married. Me and You, husband and wife. We're supposed to talk about things. Talk to me Meredith! Talk to me.'

I sat up, waited a while for him to calm down before saying in a quiet voice, 'George is dead. Izzie's alive on life support. What more is there to talk about?'
I watched as Derek climbed into my bed and moved a bit to make room for him.
'Meredith, I'm sorry about that … but, we should talk, we should- '
He was cut off by my pager's beeps.

I groaned and rolled over to get it, seeing the message, I got out of bed and got dressed quickly.
'It's Izzie!' I told Derek, 'I'm going to the hospital.'

Yes, we're all broken. But sometimes, someone, something comes along, and fixes us. But scars do remain, of what happened to us. The thing that made us all fragile and broken down, scars remain.

Reviews make me happy and give me the urge to write ;)