Title: the space between

Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me. Much to my immense dismay.

Notes: I'm fairly new to the Grey's Anatomy fandom, and haven't read all that much. An apology if this is a popular storyline; either way, I've not read any GA fic that has this plot so it's at least new to me! I've had this idea for a short while now, but only just was brave enough to go with it, so I hope you enjoy, as I plan to continue it. Set late series 4.

Title comes from song by Dave Matthews Band of the same title.

The space between

The tears we cry

Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more

Dave Matthews Band

The space between

XxX

It's just a day like any other day

A beautiful day for an accident, let's say

Zero 7

Waiting to die

XxX

Prologue: a beautiful day for an accident, let's say

XxX

Today is a good day.

There haven't been too many of those recently. But today? A good day.

Derek Shepherd is in his element: a complicated, risky, life-saving procedure that so far is going well. With any luck, he'll be able to publish this case, which will certain win him points with Richard. His adrenaline is pumping; it keeps him focused and attentive throughout the long surgery. If he'd thought about it, he'd realise that he hasn't eaten in at least 9 hours. And that had been a sandwich, handed to him by Rose, as he rushed down the hallways of Seattle Grace. But now, at this moment, hunger isn't a concern.

Meredith is stood beside him now, engrossed in the anatomy of the brain and the procedure he performs.

She stands a little too close for his liking. That is, she is stood in the same room as him.

Rose never seems to distract him the same way Meredith does. It's a problem. Since being more than a little preoccupied with thoughts of Meredith every time he's with Rose, and in fact, during being with Rose, he's been starting to consider the future of their relationship.

But that is something external to the OR. This, inside the OR, this is his sanctuary; his place of thoughts that neither considers the illustrious Dr. Grey, nor any other romantic attachment that might cause a distraction. In theory that is. In reality, with Meredith beside him, looking up at him with interest as he explains his current actions, his eyes accidentally meeting with hers (across an open cranium? No, that isn't the line) and drinking their fascination in, he finds himself a little too focussed on the wrong things. With a cough, he returns his focus to the patient.

A little over an hour later, he is closing up. And then, it is over. The patient is off to recovery, and he, grinning with the success and self-assuredness of a job well-done, is off to complete paperwork before heading home.

Derek exits the OR, takes off his surgical cap, moves his head side to side and rolls his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension that has built.

Meredith follows him. Slightly uneasy; their current relationship is built on polite conversation and unsteady foundations. "I'll go check on Mrs. Hammond," she tells him.

He nods briefly. "Shouldn't you be headed home?" he asks. More the question of a concerned boss than a former lover.

She gives him a smile; nearly reminiscent of the smiles she used to give. "After I check on Mrs. Hammond," she replies, before turning round and walking away.

He watches her, almost unintentionally for a moment before managing to take his attention away and complete the chart in front of him.

And then, the adrenaline high of surgery starting to fade around him into the true weariness and hunger, he makes his way to his locker.

Showered and changed, it is time to go home. Finally.

He steps into the empty elevator, the doors beginning to close behind him. For once, despite any slight urgings for the contrary, it remains empty; no female shouting from behind him to hold the elevator.

It is as he exits the elevator that his cell phone rings.

"Nancy?" he asks, looking at the display. He looks at his watch. 11.12pm. Late. Immediate onset of panic. "Is everything okay?" He continues walking. Breathing on the other end of the phone; uneven. He stops, stands by the chairs. "Nancy?"

He listens for a moment. Nancy is crying, he is sure of it and yet it seems unlikely. A thought. "Is it Mom? Is Mom okay?"

"Mom…" she chokes out. "Mom's okay." There is a brief moment of silence, of words being sought out. And then, "Sarah…"

"Is she okay?" he questions urgently. "Do you need me to come back to New York? I can be there in a few hours."

He barely hears the reply. Just feels it. A punch to his stomach. The sounds of the hospital crowd around him unbearably before the pounding of blood pumping round his head and through his ears begins to drown it out.

And then, a complete lack of awareness of his surroundings. Chairs fade fuzzily as he attempts to sit down.

"Dr Shepherd? Derek?"

There's a sound he can barely make out that could be his name but he doesn't care. An arm grabbing at his, guiding him into the chair.

"Derek?"

Shaking his head, the only response he can manage. Head drops to hands. And then, silence. Nausea. And only four words that repeat through his head. Accident. Sarah is dead. Accident. Sarah is dead. Accident. Sarah is dead.

And two words spoken to someone he cannot recognise in this moment.

"My sister…"

XxX

End prologue