A/N: Sorry about the delay, but I was kinda discouraged. So many hits and so few reviews! But thanks to the ones that did review, particularly loves2writestories and sparklepop77. I really appreciate it. Btw- I didn't mention it before, but the title's from a Dave Barnes song off of his "Brother Bring the Sun" album. Please review this one... the little purple button's getting lonely there.


Stop this train
I wanna get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's movin' in
I know I can, but honestly, won't someone stop this train
-- John Mayer, "Stop This Train

December 18, 1944—Ardennes Forest, France

"Medic!"

The scream jolted Mark and Derek out of their semi-asleep state. They sat up in their foxhole and craned their necks over the edge, looking around.

"Medic!" Another scream pierced the cold night air.

"I got it," Derek muttered as he adjusted his helmet and hopped over the side. Mark watched until Derek disappeared, and then settled back into the warmest spot he could find.

Derek ran low to the ground, making sure he didn't attract any attention from the waiting Nazi line. He knew he was close to the front lines, and though the trees were thick, they weren't thick enough. Seeing someone running toward him, he slowed down slightly.

"Doc!" the figure yelled.

"O'Malley? Is that you?" he whispered back. "Keep your voice down, for Christ's sake. You wanna get your Irish ass shot off?"

Corporal George O'Malley came alongside Derek and grabbed his arm. "It's Karev, Doc. He's hurt bad." George pulled him toward the wounded soldier. Private Alex Karev lay unmoving on the ground, the snow around his body growing red from the blood pouring out of his arm. Derek knelt in the snow next to him and started pulling things out of his satchel.

"Damn artery," he muttered. He quickly tied a tourniquet onto the wounded arm, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. Karev's platoon commander, Lieutenant James Fuller, gravely watched the medic. "What happened?" Derek asked as he pulled out some morphine.

"Kraut patrol," Fuller said quietly, holding Karev's head up.

"I'm sorry, sir," Karev said, in near hysterics.

"Hey, hey, it wasn't your fault," Fuller soothed, lightly stroking his hair.

Derek injected the morphine into Karev's other arm. "Hey, just relax, Alex. You're gonna be okay," Derek whispered quietly. As Karev calmed down, Derek pushed an IV into his other arm and handed the bag to Fuller. "Where's the transport, sir," he asked softly.

"I radioed for it as soon as I got over here."

"Damn it," Derek muttered. "He's gotta get this sown up now." He glanced down at the wound. It was deep, clear down to the bone. Blood pumped out of it by the cup. Derek shook his head and stuck a finger into the hole. He grimaced as he felt the blood seep through.

Just then, a Jeep pulled up a few yards away.

"Get him up," Derek ordered. O'Malley and another soldier, Bill Cattore, made a cradle for him with their hands, and Fuller and Derek pulled him to his feet. "Keep that arm level!" They carried him to a stretcher on the front of the Jeep and, once he was tied on, Derek and the driver took off toward the aid station.

Boom! Suddenly the ground erupted in front of them. The driver swerved quickly, and Derek threw himself onto Karev. Rocks and dirt rained down on them from the newly formed crater in the snow and earth. "Sorry 'bout that," the driver muttered as they passed it. "Germans have been shelling us for the past couple of days."

Derek shook his head. It would have been almost funny if that one hadn't been so close.

They screeched to a halt in front of the aid station. Meredith ran out to meet them. "This way," she said, grabbing the IV from Derek. She led them to an empty bed. Derek moved to get around her.

"Damn," she whispered, getting a good look at Karev's wound. She looked up at Derek. "How long ago?"

"About thirty minutes."

She shook her head. "Shoulda gotten him sooner."

"Look," he shot back, his voice rising, "you try doing stabilizing someone in a war zone."

Meredith ignored him, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. "It's not the time," she muttered, "to get into a pissing fight. He's had morphine."

Derek inhaled deeply. "As soon as I got there. He was freaking out."

"Okay. Cut his sleeve back."

Derek did what she ordered.

"He's lost way too much blood." She grabbed a scalpel and some sutures. Derek looked up to see a man making his way toward them. "Dr. Webber," she said, barely glancing up.

Dr. Richard Webber quickly took the sutures from her. "Brachial artery," he said, looking up at Derek. "Good job on tying that arm up. We'll take care of the rest."

Thirty minutes later, Meredith came over to where Derek was sitting impatiently outside the tent. He stood quickly. She stopped him as soon as he opened his mouth. "Before you ask, he's okay."

Derek exhaled deeply.

"And before you say anything, I forgive you for what you said in there."

"Forgive—what?" he sputtered.

She grinned at him and stuck out her hand. "Meredith Grey."

He shook his head and took it. "Derek Shepherd."

She motioned to the box next to the one he had been sitting on. He nodded and they sat down, in silence for a couple of minutes. "So," she said, breaking the ice, "is it rough out there?"

Derek looked off and nodded. "Yeah," he said simply.

She glanced down at her hands. "How did you get to be a medic?"

He shrugged. "Figured I'd rather save lives than take them." He paused and glanced at her. "You?"

Meredith looked him in the eyes. God, it was so easy to get lost in the deep blue irises, and the concerned furrow of the brow. "Well," she said, clearing her throat nonchalantly, "I had to get away from my parents somehow."

Derek chuckled. "That bad, huh?"

She laughed, a pleasant sound to his ears. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

"Try me," he said in a way that was a challenge, at the same time, a gesture of genuine interest.

"My mother's not your typical mom. She'll stop at nothing to get ahead in the world." Meredith sighed. "Even if it means giving up a family."

"Real ambitious, huh?"

Meredith nodded.

"Sounds like a terrific lady."

She chuckled.

Derek glanced at his watch and stood. "Hey I gotta get back to the line. You got some supplies?"

Meredith stood and led him back into the tent. "Whaddya need?"

"I got two vials of morphine." She handed him a box. "Uh, bandages." She handed him another two boxes. "Some more plasma."

She shot him a dirty look. "You're really trying to clean us out."

He shook his head. "Sorry, but I'm out." She quietly handed him another box. "I think that's it for now."

Meredith followed him back into the frigid winter air. "It was a pleasure, Derek Shepherd."

Derek stepped onto the Jeep and smiled at the pretty nurse. "Pleasure's all mine, Meredith Grey."


Well, whatcha think? Next chapter's Maddison, I promise!