AN: So I have over 800 hits and only 2 reviews, come one guys I'm typing this out with fake nails for you!

"MEREDITH!" Derek all but shrieked. If she was dead…

He couldn't move towards her unmoving body, because when he looked up, all he could see were about fifteen men, who were almost twice his size; marching towards him, with their guns out and pointed at him. With a last glance at Meredith, he ran backwards, to join his unit and launched a grenade at the men. The grenade knocked at least eight of them unconscious, leaving about seven men to be fought by the ten remaining people in his unit.

Feeling that he had done his civil duty, he drew back from the crew, and ran towards Meredith. He was a medic, but not much could prepare him for seeing his fiancé with a shallow, but still gaping, hole in her stomach. He quickly took off his shirt, and pressed the dark green, soft, material to the wound. He then lifted her up to his shoulder and sprinted towards the door, with her body slumped and still leaving a trail of dripped, dark red, blood down his chest, legs, and to the floor.

When they were out of reach and volume of the fighting, he pulled her to the ground, pushing away debris and making a quick, makeshift pillow out of the leaves and dirt for her head.

He was no surgeon (at least not yet, that was what his future plan, after his serving period ended, was) but he knew that something had to be done about the hole in her stomach. There was nothing that he could do about the three-month-old baby. That, he knew—without a doubt—was his. It was probably somewhere in baby heaven, not having been able to live out its life, or even be born. He had only known about it for ten minutes, and he still loved it with his whole heard, and would always regret those two seconds—the two seconds that had changed his and Meredith's life, killed their baby, and possibly have made it impossible for her to conceive again—that is if she even made it out of this alive—because the hole seemed to be right on her uterus and the home of their prospective child was destroyed, and the home of the dozens of future babies that they had dreamed of, and even named, was gone.

But there was still a chance that it could be saved—if by some miracle he could pull himself together and bring himself to start the inevitable.

"Meredith, wake up" there was no sign of life from her, other than the slight shifting of her eyes, and the weak, but still there pulse, that he could feel, beating in her wrist. The fact that she was still unconscious was probably for the better. It meant that she most likely would not feel the extent of the pain that he was about to put her through.

"Mer, listen to me, the next fifteen minutes are going to hurt. I don't have any anesthetic so it's most likely going to be the worst pain that you've ever felt, but I won't let you die. I promise you."

Derek pulled out his knapsack while he was speaking, and ripped out the first-aid kit, which contained a needle and thread, as well as five pills of Advil and some gauze. He took three of the pills, and placed them inside her mouth, knowing that eventually they would dissolve; because there was no way that he would be able to make her actually swallow them.

Derek let out a quick sigh, removed the now red shirt from her stomach, rinsed the wound with water from his water bottle, threaded the needle, and started sewing up her skin. After two stitches of complete silence, where the only reaction that he was getting from her, was a slight, unconscious shifting; he saw her eyes suddenly tear open. "Dang it," he grunted. She was awake, which meant that everything that he was going to do to her from then on, she could feel full on.

"Mer, listen to me, you need to lie down and close your eyes; and whatever you do, don't look at what I'm doing. Please. I love you."

Meredith then spent the next second trying to refocus her eyes. When they were focused, she glanced at her wound, not being able to figure out what was causing her pain. All she could see was red.

"Der…"

She was incapable of saying anything more. She then turned her head to the side and wrenched out the few things that she had eaten in the past few hours. With a last glance at his concerned face, her head fell back down on to the pile of dirt and leaves, and fell unconscious. There was no more shifting and he knew that she would stay down for the rest of the procedure.

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