Ok I totally changed this story … I just wasn't happy with it. Before Meredith was the patient but I've given up on that and now I'm making Meredith the doctor working on Derek's case … which also means that I have to change the second chapter. So for all you guys who were reading the first version, sorry that I changed it but I think it'll be better this way. Enjoy!

Sometimes, you just have to take that leap of faith and hope that something's going to catch you on the way down. If nothing does … well then I guess you're screwed. But most of the time we honestly can't say for certain that something's going to break our fall; that something's going to be there to pull us back up to our feet again. Or someone. We can't always rely on someone else to be there to clean up our messes, to catch us when we fall. Sometimes, that leap of faith involves standing tall and strong, even if it means standing alone.

The morning was routine, down-pact, solid as anything. And for some strange reason that bothered him. It had never bothered him before. He had liked the solitude of it, the dependency it carried. Now it was just downright annoying. Addison walked into the kitchen and placed a kiss on his cheek, as usual, and he slid her the cup of coffee he made her every morning. And as always, she grabbed the sugar jar and added a spoonful more than what he had already put in. At first it had just been a mistake, a habit he had forgotten since they moved back to Manhattan. Now he just did it to annoy her.

She smiled faintly across the table at him as he slid her the crust from his toast. She took the plate obligingly, just like every other morning, and raised it to her lips, a few light crumbs sticking to her morning lips. From somewhere in the living room, the phone rang. They both looked up from their papers, startled by the interruption in their annoying morning ritual. Derek pushed back his chair, the legs scraping against the cold tile of the floor as he left the kitchen and answered the phone.

"Hello?" His voice was still somewhat groggy from his lack of sleep the night before. Addison had been tossing and turning all night, mumbling things in her sleep that sounded all too much like, 'Oh Mark!'

"Dr Shepherd?" a somewhat familiar voice said from the other line. He scrunched his face up in concentration, trying to put a face to the voice.

"Dr Yang," he said suddenly, turning his back to the kitchen so Addison wouldn't overhear. "It's been awhile."

"Ya it has," she said, her voice sounding far off and distant as though something was on her mind.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, walking back into the kitchen and mouthing the word 'work' to Addison as he passed her and walked up the stairs for better privacy. It had been two years since he had left and if Christina was calling, then something must have been really wrong.

"Ya actually you can," she said, shuffling with a piece of paper in her hand uncomfortably. "The chief wants you back. Not permanently, although he would keep you here if he could, but he needs a neuro-surgeon on a case right away. The longer we wait the lesser the patient's chances of survival. He sent the tickets to you through email and you should get them any minute," she said in a hurry. Of all the people to do this … it had to be her.

Shepherd remained silent. There was something Christina wasn't telling him, he could tell by the strain in her voice. But he decided not to push the matter. After all he had chosen his wife over Dr Yang's best friend and then decided to move back to New York with Satan herself. He had no right to pry into their business.

"What's her status?" he asked, snapping out of his reverie and pulling a suitcase from his closet, dumping it on the bed, and filling it with clothes as she talked.

"Woman in her late twenties, presented two nights ago with severe head trauma from a car accident. We believe there to be inter-cranial haemorrhaging and bleeding in the brain but we need a surgeon qualified for the procedure. Webber wants you."

Derek finished stuffing the last of his clothes into the suitcase and slammed it shut, sitting on it to get it to close all the way. "Is she conscious?" he asked, clamping the lock down heavily and jumping off of the case, hoping to God that it wouldn't spring open.

"In and out. She's in bad shape."

Derek nodded on the other end of the phone, unaware of the fact that Christina couldn't see him.

"Dr Shepherd?" she prompted.

"Oh, right!" he said. "I'll be on the next flight out," he said. "And Christina?" he asked, hesitant on asking the question. "How is everyone?" he flinched, wondering whether she would see right through his question.

"Meredith's fine," she replied, smiling slightly to herself, glad that Derek couldn't see her.

"Right. Well … I'll be there soon," he said as he hung up the phone and hoisted the suitcase from the bed. He stopped at the top of the stairs, wondering how he was going to explain this to Addison. Figuring he was just going to wing it, he took slow steps down the hardwood staircase, pausing at the bottom long enough to register the sound of the shower running down the hall.

Thanking God, he quickly scribbled her a hurried note explaining that he was needed on a consult on the West Coast, not giving any specific details. He knew that Addison would see right through his vague details and would probably come after him but right now, he couldn't have cared less.

XXXXXXXXXX

Izzie held the little girl in her arms, running her finger's through the girl's soft, dark hair, fingering the little curls that lay so perfectly at the tips. The house was dark and quiet, nothing but the noise of the running shower on the next floor to break the deafening silence. Christina was seated beside her, watching in disgust and admiration at the way Izzie handled the child. She showed so much affection, so much love, it almost … almost … made Christina sad.

"Shift starts in twenty minutes. George better hurry up," Christina said, picking a spot on her fingernail. The darkness of the morning and the fact that there were no lights on to allow the little girl to sleep made it increasingly impossible to remove the dirt that was bothering her to no end.

"I'm sure Bailey will give us a little leeway," Izzie whispered, leaning her head towards Christina as to not wake the child.

"What about Taylor? Where's she gonna go while we're working?" Dr Yang asked, reaching over and running a cold finger down the side of Taylor's leg, little goose bumps popping up where she touched her.

"The same place she's gone for most of her life while we work; the daycare centre. I know we all hate sending her there but there's really no other choice," Izzie said, draping the blanket from the back of the couch over Taylor's shivering body to shield out the cold.

The little girl shivered slightly in her sleep, breathing in a huge sigh before turning over and finding a more comfortable spot on Izzie's chest. The blonde smiled at the comfort she felt holding her. Christina pretended to gag. Izzie reached over, careful not to disturb Taylor in her lap, and smacked Christina upside the head. The feisty young, dark-haired doctor was about to hit her back when George walked into the living room, breaking up any traces of the would-be catfight.

He glanced questioningly around the room before shrugging his shoulders and moving to the hall to put on his shoes. Izzie and Christina, who already had their shoes on, followed George out the front door and to the car which was sitting in the driveway.

Izzie climbed carefully into the back with Taylor while Christina took the wheel and George rode shotgun. The day had just begun but they could already tell that it was going to be extremely long.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Izzie still had the almost four year old wrapped up in the blanket in her arms as the threesome walked into the hospital, attempting to shield Taylor from the loud noises and beeping that made up Seattle Grace. But they were attempting the inevitable. Taylor stirred from her slumber and opened her large eyes that everyone admired, taking in the familiar surroundings. Izzie, George and Christina stopped at the nurses' station while George signed Taylor into the daycare centre. Christina suddenly hit Izzie on the arm, hard, all the while staring at a spot a few feet ahead of her. Izzie whipped around, prepared to retaliate, when she saw what Christina was gaping at.

There, standing not ten feet in front of them was Derek Shepherd. Two years had not changed a single thing about the man. Luckily for them, Dr Shepherd was facing the other way, giving Izzie time to walk backwards into the daycare centre. But she wasn't quite quick enough.

Derek wheeled around at the sound of metal hitting floor in time to see Izzie, a little girl in her grasp, staring wide-eyed in front of her to Dr Shepherd, seemingly completely unaware of the fact that she had just walked into a cart of supplies. She quickly turned on her heel and ran, immediately followed by Christina and George. Only O'Malley had to decency to give him a little encouraging smile as he ran off.

Derek shrugged his shoulders, wondering what the hell they were up to. Shaking off his curiosity, he walked to the nurses' station and tapped the counter, receiving the attention of the plump nurse whom he did not recognise.

"Excuse me, hi," he said, plastering a charming smile onto his face. But apparently she was unimpressed by the nature of his good looks and simply stared at him. Derek cleared his throat, unnerved and left wondering whether his charm was wearing off.

"Um …" he started, wondering how to regain his composure. "I'm Doctor Derek Shepherd from New York. I was brought here for a consult from Chief Webber," he said, trying another smile.

The large woman continued to stare at him intently though uninterestedly for another second before pulling a case file from the large stack in front of her.

"Fourth floor, room 209 on your left. Patient is Amber Rainer, twenty- two years old. I'll page the resident on the case and tell her to meet you up there," she said in her monotone voice.

Derek smiled charmingly and took the file, turning on his heel and walking back towards the elevator.

XXXXXXXXXX

Meredith stood with her back to the door, looking over her young patient and listening to the questions Amber was asking her. Meredith flipped open the file, eyes scanning vaguely over the details.

"Amber you have nothing to worry about. The chief just told me that they're bringing in a specialist that has done this surgery many times," Meredith reassured her. "Let me see if I can find the name …" she said, turning another one of the many pages in the file. "Ah here we go," she said, finding the word 'Resident Specialist' and tracing her finger along the blank space to the name. "Dr …" she faltered, turning when she heard the door behind her open. There, after almost four years, stood Derek Shepherd.

"Shepherd," Meredith finished, her eyes still locked with Derek's.