A/N: So I should probably leave them as is, and it's not a big deal...but I'm a stickler for formatting and I really wanted the line breaks to be there and clear, and so if you've already read the chapter, then don't read it again. I edited chapter 2, 3, and 4 too so you don't need to reread those. If you haven't read the chapter, disregard this.

She knows she's going to die today.

It started when she got up this morning. As she opened her eyes, she got a feeling. An icy-cold feeling of foreboding; of impending doom; of apocalypse; the kind that made her want to lie in bed all day so that there was no occasion for that feeling to become reality. She would have done it too, had Cristina not dragged her out of bed and to the hospital, because, regardless of what happens to everyone else, she—Meredith Grey—is going to die today.

Derek told her the feelings normally pass. He made it sound like he gets those feelings all the time, and, as she heads to the OR to meet Dr. Burke, she hopes he's right, because she really wants this feeling to go away. No one likes to feel like this is their last day on Earth. Especially when they can't spend it the way they want to. Not since Derek's married anyways. Meredith doesn't want to be a home wrecker. It's the one thing she promised herself she'd never be, especially not after what happened with her parents. Even if she dies today, Derek and Addison will still be here, and their home will still be wrecked. She'll still be the home wrecker. Besides, if she's gone, things will be easier between him and Addison if he can say that he hasn't slept with anyone other than her while she's been in Seattle. Meredith knows that she drives a wedge between them, and try as she might to stop, they seem to be drifting further and further apart. That, and Addison thinks of her as the dirty mistress. Or maybe dirty ex-mistress is more appropriate.

There's no reason for this feeling, no logical justification for why she feels like she's going to die today. So far nothing has happened that is remotely out of the ordinary. Nothing other than the fact that the patient she's currently taking to surgery—who's probably going to need to have his aorta repaired—has the hand of a brand new paramedic stuck in the abnormally huge, unexplained cavity in his chest. Her hand is stemming the bleeding and keeping him alive so that Burke can operate. It's unorthodox, but certainly not dangerous. Yet this feeling of Meredith's keeps intensifying, like every step towards the OR is one more step towards the end. Part of her wants to scream and run away, but the bigger, rational part of her steels herself against these impulses. You're a surgeon, Meredith, she tells herself. You're the one saving lives, not the one in need of saving. So get a grip and go save this poor bastard's life.

"You ready to scrub in, Dr. Grey?" Burke asks, as they wheel the patient into the OR.

Meredith takes a deep breath and shoves the feeling down. "Yes."

"Well wash up and let's get started. I'll bet you want to take your hand out, don't you, Hannah?" This last is directed at the paramedic with her hand in the guy's chest.

She nods, looking relieved. "Yes, sir."

Meredith watches them prepping the OR and putting the patient under anaesthetics while she washes up, and is helped into her gloves and smock. Dr. Burke is the best cardiothoracic surgeon in the west half of the country. Nothing is going to go wrong with this procedure. She's just being silly. It's all this stuff with Derek; it's got her confused. Her hormones are going crazy. That's all.

"I'm ready." She sidles up to Burke. All decked out and ready to operate, she can see what Cristina sees in him. He's so calm and confident. He probably never gets feelings. He probably never doubts himself.

Burke nods. "All right. Let's get started." He rolls his neck and she can hear it crack; it's his standard pre-surgery ritual. "Scalpel."

Meredith hands it to him, marvelling at how steady his hands are, just like Derek's. He probably never gets the kind of feeling she has. She needs to stop thinking about him. Especially when she's in surgery. She needs to be on top of her game. Calm. Focused. Derek Shepherd doesn't inspire either of those feelings.

Burke is talking to Hannah, telling her that he's going to count to three and on three she can pull her hand out, but Meredith isn't listening. She should be paying attention; she's the student and Burke is the teacher. Surgeons are supposed to be on top of things, on the ball, not freaking out about whether or not they're going to die in a matter of moments.

"One." Burke's voice is so sure, so steady it breaks through the haze of Meredith's brain. He watches Hannah, scalpel poised and ready. Meredith takes a deep breath and tries to keep her eyes on Burke. There's no need to panic. Everything is going to be fine. Derek promised.

"Two." The scalpel is poised above Mr. Carlson chest. Meredith feels like she's hanging by a thread that could snap at any second. It's not working. It's not passing. Despite Derek's promise, the feeling isn't going away. It's all Meredith can do not to run away and hide until this is all over. Somehow she knows that if Burke makes this incision, it's all over. She'll be gone. Dead. Obliterated into a million tiny pieces. It'll be like she never existed.

"Dr. Burke, I need to speak to you."

Burke freezes, his lips about to form that fateful word, scalpel hovering millimetres from Mr Carlson's chest.

Alex Karev is standing in the doorway, mask pressed over his face. Looking at him, Meredith knows something is wrong. Alex knows better than to interrupt an operation in progress, so this has to be something big.

Meredith glances at Burke. The anticipation in the room is almost stifling; everyone is waiting to see how he is going to react. Meredith can't help feeling a stab of pride towards Alex; it takes serious balls to interrupt Burke in surgery. Burke looks furious. "I am in surgery, Karev." His tone is like ice.

"You want to talk to me, sir." The urgency in Alex's voice is clearly audible. This must be a big deal; Alex, who never goes anywhere quickly unless it suits his purposes, looks—and sounds—like he's just run a marathon.

All eyes are on Burke. Go see him, go see him, Meredith begs silently. She doesn't want this to be the end. She doesn't want this feeling to be anything more than a feeling.

"This had better be good, Karev," Burke mutters, setting down the scalpel and striding over to Alex. Meredith breathes a sigh of relief, as if the crisis has been averted. She hears him begin to say something to Alex; it sounds like Burke is angry.

"He's cute," Hannah says quietly, leaning closer to Meredith. "Is he single?"

Meredith is considering the best way to answer this question when she notices that they're now whispering to each other and looking over at Mr Carlson. All the relief she feels evaporates as she sees the look on their faces. Burke's is calm, too calm, but the calmness doesn't touch his eyes. She can see the shock there, and the resignation. As everyone watches he gives a small nod and turns away from Alex.

"Hannah?"

"Yes, Dr Burke?" Hannah's voice is calm, almost eager. It's obvious she has no idea that anything is amiss.

"What do you feel? Inside of Mr Carlson, what is your hand touching?"

The focus of the whole room shifts to the young paramedic. Meredith's mind is reeling. Is there something in his chest? What could be in his chest that could cause so much alarm?

Hannah looks at Burke uncertainly. "What do you mean?" she asks, and there is less calmness in her voice.

"Is you hand touching anything hard?" Burke's voice is so gentle, so calm that it unsettles Meredith more than if he were yelling. She wishes he were yelling.

"Hard," Meredith repeats, wondering if she has heard Burke correctly. Why would there be something hard in his chest?

"Like metal." Metal…in his chest?

Hannah looks equally confused. "Um, I don't know," she says in a small voice. She starts to shift her fingers, obviously probing for something. "Don't move your hand." Burke's voice is sharp, and the tension in the room escalates. "Just tell me what you feel."

"Dr Burke? What's going on?" Meredith's voice seems to echo in throughout the room. All eyes are riveted back to Burke, waiting for his verdict. She watches Alex, trying to get some indication as to what's going on, but he's watching Burke too. Beside her, she can practically feel Hannah trembling, probably wondering what the hell she's touching, what the hell she's gotten herself into. She knows that Burke can see her too, he's looking right at her, but he ignores her. "Hannah?"

"Um." It's clear she's on edge. "My fingertips are touching something kinda hard." She pauses. "Yeah. Definitely." Her voice is getting stronger.

"Oh my God," the anaesthesiologist whispers.

"Dr Milton," Burke says sharply.

Meredith can feel Hannah beginning to panic. "What?" The paramedic's voice quavers slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Hannah I don't want you to move." The calm in Burke's voice is obviously forced; it's his soothing doctor voice. "Not your hand, not your body, not an inch."

"Okay." Her voice is shaking now. "You should know you're starting to scare me."

"Don't be scared. Everything's going to be fine." Meredith can feel the fear in the room, the uncertainty. Everyone is wondering what has flapped the unflappable Dr. Burke. Hannah's face is the worst: she's clearly terrified, which is understandable since it's her hand in the guy's chest. Meredith knows that everyone wants to know the same thing, but they're all either afraid of Burke, or afraid of what it is he'll say. Well, she's not going to sit here and do nothing. She hates being kept in the dark anyways.

Meredith shifts her weight slightly and looks at Burke pointedly, as if to remind him that there are a dozen or so people still here, waiting to know what's happened. Very few people pressure Preston Burke when he's thinking, mostly because he's revered as being some kind of god. But Meredith has never been for rules or gods, and besides, now is not the time for long considerations.

"Dr Grey, can I, uh—" Burke trails off. Hannah glances at Meredith, panicked and her eyes seem to plead: You're not going to leave me here all by myself, are you? Meredith feels bad for her; she's so young and it's her first week on the job, and something horrible like this has happened. Meredith knows what it's like when you're just starting out, you just want to do well and impress everybody. Something like this is the last thing that she would want to happen on her week. It's like when Meredith found out that Derek was her boss, or when she thought that Katie Bryce was going to die because she hadn't been fast enough answering her pager. She touches Hannah's shoulder reassuringly. "Everything's going to be fine," she says gently, even though both of them know that nothing is going to be fine.

She can feel the eyes of the whole room on her as she crosses the OR to Dr Burke. The tension is stifling; she feels like she's walking to her death or something.

"Whatever you do," Burke says quietly, so that no one but her and Alex can hear, "do not panic, do you understand me? Do not panic." Meredith nods uncertainly. She's never been the panicking type to begin with, and Burke knows this, so it must be something bad.

"Burke," she whispers, not wanting to wait any longer. "What's going here?" The feeling's not just a feeling is it? She's actually going to die today. This is her last day on Earth. The last day of her existence. And Derek is married. Of course. Of course he's married. Fate always deals Meredith the crappy hand.

"I want you to walk out of this room—walk. Do not run." Burke's voice is scarily calm. "Go and tell the charge nurse that we have a Code Black."

Meredith frowns in confusion. Code Black? What's a Code Black? "I'm sorry, Code Black?"

"Code Black," Burke repeats, and she can tell that he's starting to loose it a little. "Tell him that I am sure, and then tell him to call the bomb squad."

It's like the pit drops out of Meredith's stomach. Bomb squad? Here? At Seattle Grace?

It's not until she and Alex are out of the OR and walking towards the elevators that she dares ask the question that's been hovering in the back of mind ever since Alex interrupted the surgery. "Is there a–a bomb in his chest?" It sounds absurd, even when she says it.

He shakes his head, and she feels a momentary stab of relief. "Then why—"

"The guy shot himself with a bazooka and the ammo never exploded," Alex interrupts quietly. "Since it's homemade it's highly volatile so it's even more dangerous. That thing could go off at any moment."

"Jesus," Meredith whispers. She can't believe it. It seems so impossible and yet—it's happening. "Poor Hannah." Suddenly, Meredith's first week on the job doesn't seem nearly as bad. "She's got her hand in Mr Carlson's chest…" She freezes as something occurs to her. "Alex, what if Burke had cut him open?"

Alex doesn't say anything for a long moment. "I don't know, Meredith," he finally says. His voice is quiet. "I don't know."


Derek Shepherd tries really hard to focus. He's good at what he does—one of the best—but when the husband of a co-worker in labour whom you hold in the highest esteem is lying on your operating table with his skull flap open, resting at your mercy, it can be a little nerve-wracking. More than a little nerve-wracking, actually, especially considering what Bailey will do if her husband dies on his watch. So when his pager goes off just as he's about to begin closing up, it's all he can do not to jump or react in any way. "Yang, could you get that?"

Wordlessly, Cristina crosses the room to the phone. Derek turns his attention back to Tucker Jones' open skull flap. The page is probably nothing; just another patient in need of a consult; just another place he needs to be, another thing he needs to do to keep him busy so that he won't have to think about Meredith. Or Addison. Or marriage.

"How's he doing?" Izzie asks.

Derek sighs. "It's touch and go, but I think he's going to be fine. Go and tell Addison that he's doing better than I thought, but I don't know if he's going to wake up." Izzie nods and leaves the room, just as Cristina hangs up and comes back over.

"What did they want?" Derek's eyes don't leave Tucker's open skull. He's almost finished here. Another half hour, max, and they're good to go.

"Sir, they said they want us to evacuate."

Derek turns sharply. "Evacuate? Did they say why?"

"Uh, no, but your pager said Code Black?"

The whole room freezes. Derek stops, hardly daring to believe his ears. It must be a mistake. He misheard, or Cristina misread it. That's all.

"You're sure they said that?" he asks, quietly, waiting for her to say something different and confirm that he misheard her because it can't be a Code Black. It just can't be.

"Yes." Cristina glances at him uncertainly, holding out the pager for him to see. "What's a Code Black?"

Derek takes a deep breath. It's a drill. It has to be. But he can't help thinking about what Meredith said about having a feeling. He needs to know where she is; whether or not this is a drill, he needs to know that she is safe. "Could be a drill," he says calmly. "Even if it's not a drill, I can't evacuate, I've got a patient with an open brain on the table. I'm not leaving Bailey's husband on the table with his skull flap open, so, if anybody wants to go, they should go. Anybody want to evacuate? Going once," he adds, as nobody moves. "Going twice. Going three times." There's a moment of deliberation, and then everyone starts to file out. Everyone, that is, except the anaesthesiologist and Cristina.

"You're sure they said Code Black?" Derek says quietly, turning his attention back to her. She nods. "Yes, sir."

"Are you sure you want to stay, Yang?" he asks, watching her carefully. She's strong, and she loves her job, but she must know that something is wrong here. He's sure she doesn't believe it's a drill. Hell, he doesn't even think this is a drill, he'd only said that to avoid total chaos in his OR. If it were a drill, the Chief would have notified the attendings this morning, wouldn't he?

"I'll stay," she replies quickly, too quickly. Derek frowns slightly. Why won't she leave? Derek knows she loves surgery, but shouldn't she at least be a little concerned? Does she really love surgery that much, or does she really think it's a drill? Or maybe…

"Burke's in the OR isn't he?"

Cristina's head snaps up. "Is that why you're staying, Cristina?" Derek keeps his voice kind. Situations like these are tough. He knows that. He knows exactly how she feels. He feels the same way about Meredith.

She looks away quickly, and he knows he's hit the nail on the head. "Meredith's his intern," she snaps.

He freezes. "What?"

"Meredith. She's scrubbing in on Burke's surgery." Cristina refuses to look him in the eye.

So Meredith is Burke's intern. So she's in the OR down the hall. No big deal. She may not have stayed. She probably hasn't. Burke probably hadn't even started his surgery yet. Either way she's fine. Everything's fine. It has to be. Derek can't think about this know, he'll drive himself crazy and Bailey's husband needs him. "All right everybody, let's finish up so that we can get out of here. Suction." He gestures to the scrub nurse beside him.

It seems to take years, but Tucker's head is finally stitched up. Derek wraps his head in bandages; it looks like he's got a large white turban on. Derek takes a deep breath and steps back from the table. It's done. It's over. Tucker Jones is going to be fine. Bailey is going to be fine. He's fine. Meredith is fine. Everything's fine.

"Can you go tell Dr Montgomery that I think Mr Jones' prognosis is better than anticipated, Dr Yang?" Derek asks, trying to remain calm, while fighting the urge to run and find Meredith, because telling himself that she's OK just doesn't seem to be doing any good. "I'm sure Bailey will want to know that her husband's going to be fine." If she knows that is; Addison may have chosen not to tell her.

Cristina nods, but her face is tight and he realizes that she's suppressing the same urge he is; she wants to know that Burke is OK. "You can check in with Dr Burke after," he adds quietly. "He may need some help with his surgery."

She ignores him and hurries out. Obviously, she still hates him because of what happened with Meredith. Derek knows she's probably never going to forgive him. Which is fine. He's never really liked her anyways.

"You can take him down, Bokey." He turns to the scrub nurse and gestures to Tucker. "You'll have to ask Dr Webber where to put him since they may have evacuated the surgical wing. I'm sure it's just a drill and it will probably be over by now," he adds calmly, seeing the startled look on her face, "but you should check with the Chief just to be sure." The words are barely out of his mouth before he's gone, out of the OR, ripping off the surgical gear as he goes and leaving it flung on the ground beside the door, and washing up as fast as he can because he needs to go find her. Make sure that she's OK.

The hallway outside the OR is empty. Richard will be pleased, Derek muses to himself. Everyone's very efficient at evacuating. He heads straight to the elevator, because she must already be downstairs. She's fine. He tries to breathe, to be calm and rational. There's no one up here. She must be safe. He's a surgeon, for God's sake, why is he panicking? Burke probably never started; he couldn't have. There'd be no way he could be finished by now, could he? Of course not. What is he thinking? There's no surgery that could be done that quickly, and certainly not Burke's. His was the patient with the huge gaping hole in his chest, or so Derek has heard. That's what Cristina was saying. Burke's got the one with the huge, explained hole in his chest and no one knows how it happened because the wife won't stop screaming. Right. He heard about that one.

There's a group of people gathered by the elevator. There's maybe six or seven of them, and, at first, he thinks they're waiting for the elevator, but then he realizes that they're all standing off to the side. They're talking among themselves, and he can't heat what they're saying, but their tone makes it harder and harder for him not to panic. There's definitely something wrong here.

One of them is sitting off to the side. She's still wearing full surgical gear; they all are, but its' those eyes: green-grey and beautiful and full of tension.

"Meredith?"

A hush falls over the crowd. Meredith's head jerks up, and, despite the surprise, there's something else in her eyes: relief, maybe? Derek can feel the hope welling up from somewhere deep inside him, and it doesn't matter that he chose Addison; Meredith feels relieved to see him, she still wants him. All is not lost. There's still something there.

"Meredith, what are you doing here?" He moves away from the others and she follows. He doesn't like them watching, it makes him feel exposed. Thankfully, they don't; there are more interesting things to talk about today than the latest between him and Meredith, and that's what worries him.

"I had to finish operating on Bailey's husband. What about you? Cristina said you were Burke's intern."

Meredith starts. It's obvious that she has no idea what happened with Tucker Jones. Which is no surprise, since she was probably in Burke's OR the whole time. "Is Bailey's husband okay? What happened?"

"He was in a car accident. Nothing too serious, just some hemorrhaging. He's going to be fine."

"Good." Meredith looks incredibly relieved.

"But what about you?" he persists. He just wants her to leave, as soon as she's out of harm's way, then everything can go back to normal. "Why aren't you downstairs?"

Meredith takes a deep breath. Dread spreads like ice tendrils in the pit of Derek's stomach. "Derek…" The look on her face scars him and he knows. "It's not a drill, is it?" She shakes her head. "Burke's patient...Mr Carlson shot himself with a bazooka and the ammunition never exploded. And the reason he's not in a million pieces right now is because there's a twenty-two year old paramedic who's on her first week of work with her in his chest holding it in place." Her words are tumbling out in a rush now. "The ammunition's homemade and highly volatile, and Burke called the bomb squad and-and—" Meredith takes a deep breath; he can tell she's trying to keep it together. "She's touching it, Derek. She's so young, and she could die today."

Derek sighs and touches her arm lightly, resisting the urge to crush her against him. "She's going to be okay, Mer. The bomb squad will know what to do." Even as he says it, he knows it isn't true; everything isn't fine, no one knows what's going to happen.

Meredith lets out a long breath. "I'm staying here, Derek. Burke's going to need help once the bomb squad gets that thing out, and I'm not just going to leave him," she adds, seeing the look on Derek's face. "That guy's my patient too."

"Meredith, I—" He wants to tell her that she needs to go, that she needs to get away, that he can't take it if she stays, but she cuts him off.

"You should go." Her voice is quiet. "The Chief, Addison, Bailey, they'll be looking for you. And you should check on Bailey's husband. I'll be fine." He knows what she's doing. She's reminding him of reality: he's married and she's not, he's an attending and she's an intern. There is no more Meredith and Derek.

Derek looks at her. That's all he can do now, look but not touch. He knows this. He has to go. "Promise me you'll be okay," he whispers.

"I'll be fine," Meredith promises. "Don't worry about me."

"I wish I could do that," he says quietly before heading down the hallway. Today, he'll take the stairs.