Author's Note: Thanks for the great reviews! I love you all too!

I don't own any part of Grey's Anatomy.

George sat bolt upright. Sweat dripped down his nose and his eyes darted frantically around the room, before closing as he struggled to remember what had terrified him. Callie yawned and sat up, her eyes half-closed.

"What's wrong baby?" she asked sleepily.

"Be quiet." he snapped. Her eyes widened and she stared at him.

"What? Why…"

"I mean it Callie. Hold on." George squinched his eyes even tighter as he searched his mind for the images. What had it been about?

But instead of images came the memory of a sound. Screaming. But whose? Then he remembered the smell. It was as if he could smell it right there. But no, Callie used a raspberry scented spray. He could smell lavender…

Throwing off the covers George leapt out of the bed he and Callie shared. His girlfriend watched, bewildered, as he searched in the dark of the hospital room for his pants. Finding them he reached into the pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He pressed three and waited.

The phone rang and rang again. Come on, George thought, Pick up, pick up! Finally it connected and Izzie's annoyed voice came on.

"What the hell is the matter with you George?" she asked in a quiet deadly tone. "It is a 3:00 in the morning."

"Izzie," he said urgently. "Is Meredith there?"

"You called Meredith?" Callie asked, her dark eyes snapping. George ignored her.

"I think so, why?" She sounded impatient.

"Could you check for me please?" he asked, "Just please do it for me."

"Fine, but you owe me a mocha latte tomorrow," she grumbled, furious. She wasn't the only one.

By now Callie's mouth was hanging open and her hands were balled into fists. Why was her boyfriend calling his ex-lover at 3:00 a.m.?

Izzie knocked on Meredith's door and when she didn't answer she turned the knob and pushed it open. The bed was made and there was no sign of her friend. Frowning Izzie put the phone back up to her ear.

"George? She's not here?"

He felt his heart plummet.

"Izzie," he said quietly. His voice seemed on the edge of panic. "Call Alex and Cristina and tell them that I think something's happened to Meredith. Just ask them if they know where she was going tonight. If they don't know anything…call Dr. Shepherd and ask him too. I'm going to go look for her. Just trust me Izzie."

He switched off and turned around to see Callie standing before him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"What the hell are you doing George?" she asked furiously. She sounded almost in tears.

"Callie you've just got to trust me," he pleaded, "I think…"

"No!" she cried, "No! You can't just call her at 3:00 in the morning and just tell me to

trust you" George." She turned her back to him.

"Callie!" George said, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her around to look at him,

"When I was eight years old I had a dream that my aunt had died. The next day they called to say she had been murdered in an accidental drive-by shooting. When I was 15 I swear I knew about my cousin's car crash before it happened. Last week I had a feeling, only minutes before they say Denny died, that something was wrong. Callie I think something happened to Meredith. Please trust me!"

She studied his eyes for a moment before dropping her gaze and nodding her head slowly. "But I'm coming with you."

Five minutes later they pealed out of the hospital parking lot.

"So where are we going?" Callie asked him.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "I'm following my gut right now."

He felt himself being pulled to the bad side of town, despite the fact that it seemed to be the last place Meredith would ever go. He drove slower and scanned the streets and sidewalk for…for what?

Suddenly George began to doubt. He even felt a little bit silly. Why would Meredith be out here? Perhaps it was just working too many hours at the hospital was finally getting to him. Or maybe he was just still shaken by last week's shooting scare. He had just made up his mind to turn back when he heard Callie gasp. He spun around and what he saw made his heart stop.

"Allison's wearing my shoes." The rape victim was wearing her shoes.

A tall, dark figure with a long, lethal looking object in his hand was crouched over a smaller heap on the ground. A heap that wore leopard-spotted shoes…

AN: Heh, heh, heh, what's going to happen to dear old Meh? Review and find out!