A/N- This is my first attempt at a Grey's Anatomy fic, and a completely different style so reviews/comments would be really appreciated!

Perfectly Flawed

She's running now. Fast. Faces whizzing past her, blurring in the distance till each one is undistinguishable from the last. Her feet are pounding against the floor, almost painful as she urges herself on. Faster. Faster. Escape. Her lungs are aching as if in competition with the pain in her legs, each trying to out do the other. But she can't stop to think about it, can't ever stop because when she does then it's real, she knows it's all real.

A strange sound meets her ears, and she's tempted to stop until she realises the person making the sound is her. Her gasps for air mixing with the raw emotion she's trying so hard to conceal come out like a guttural cry. A feral scream fighting against the world. Determined, she pushes herself harder, testing her limits and forcing them further. It'll never be enough, but she doesn't want to stop. Can't. Veering around a corner she narrowly avoids another nameless face, she can feel his stare as she escapes from his view but she doesn't care.

Looking ahead she sees it, the shining glow of an exit sign a surreal beacon of hope in her dark world, tensing her jaw she allows what could only be considered a determined grimace as she prepares to throw herself into the cold night air. Time is running out she can feel it, an unstoppable monster chasing her, mocking her even as she tries desperately to fight the inevitable. Gathering her strength she weaves out from behind the last person standing in her way and finally breaks out and into what she had hoped would be a peaceful, still night.

Chaos. There's no other word for it. She can hear them, all the shouts, the pleas, the bone crunching sounds and quiet whispers of the children who never woke up reverberating in her skull, haunting her as she stands still, hands raking through her hair as she sends a prayer to the universe.

Please. Make it stop.

She had tried to continue on, to be strong and not dwell on the thoughts of daughters who would never go home, to the mother who would never kiss her child goodnight again or to any of the boys and girls who clouded her conscience, and tore at her heart as she pictures their frightened faces. Breathing deeply she struggles to keep her balance as a wave of guilt washes over her threatening to drown her.

She's beaten, broken.

Turning her head she can't block out the image of the small boy, lying cold in the morgue. A boy whose name she can't even remember. Ryan? Jacob? It doesn't matter now she concedes bitterly, she has failed him and he'll forever remain a victim, a ghost of her lost battle. A name cast in stone, on a list of the other's she has failed.

Please. Make it end.

But it won't. It never ends. She'll dry her eyes, take a breath and swallow the pain because she won't give up. Can't. This is what she is, all she is. Although she'd never be heard admitting it its no secret to those closest to her that there are times she resents her life, wishes she had chosen different.

Who would choose to watch children die?

Closing her eyes she allows the death, the pain, the grief and the loss that have built up over the years to consume her before she snaps her eyes open to find in that one moment that she wouldn't trade it for the world.

Long after her body remains unmoving in the earth, like the un-named boy maybe she'll be spoken of, maybe mentioned over dinner or at a wedding. The doctor who saved a life, who saved a son or daughter when all hope was lost. But that's not why she does what she does.

She will not be beaten. Not today. Not here because there is hope, joy. Sometimes the ones you can save almost make up for the ones you can't.