Prologue
6 AM, Derek Shepherd sat at the breakfast table in the kitchen of his house. The silence was only interrupted by the sound of his own chewing. Cause he couldn't stand it he got up and turned on the radio. But he turned the volume down a bit. He didn't want to wake her. His little girl, still sleeping up stairs, the only thing that kept him going these days. Elisabeth Mackenzie Grey Shepherd, his two year old daughter. Still too young to realize she was the reason why he was still alive, too young to realize that he was only a shadow of the man he used to be. The only thing he had that came close to her mother. Since that car accident just over a year ago, it was just the two of them.
He walked upstairs. He hated to wake her up so early, but Meredith didn't want her child to be raised by nannies. She wanted to be better then her mom and actually be there. That was why they had gone to different schedules so that one of them would be home. But right now, it was just the two of them. He didn't hire any nanny for Elizabeth, but that meant he had to take her to day care. And sometimes that meant waking her up at 6 AM. He softly picked her up from her little bed. She woke up, but didn't start to cry. He smiled at her. He hardly smiled these days but he had one for Elizabeth. For Elizabeth, that was his mantra now, he needed to be there for her.
He didn't bother to change her clothes. At the day care they would put her straight to bed again. They would dress her when it was a better time to wake up.
The hospital halls were empty. Sometimes he saw a single doctor or nurse pass by. He could have scheduled this operation a couple of hours later. But then he would have to miss his daughter's lunch. That was his life now, scheduling his surgeries so he could feed her at lunch and dinner and take her home on time. He blocked the thought that he missed her breakfasts from his mind. Elizabeth was yawning when he reached the door of day care. Lilly was already there waiting for them. He placed the bag on the floor and kissed his daughter on her head. He handed her over to Lilly and waited till they both disappeared through the doors towards the sleeping rooms. He turned and walked away.
He entered the operation room and everybody was waiting for him. He walked towards the table and sighted silently. They were all waiting for his line, the one thing he always said before a surgery, a line that had lost of his meaning since that dreadful, rainy Monday morning.