Cristina stayed at Meredith's side, as ordered, but there was no change. She had enough brain activity to avoid being declared brain dead, and yet she still wasn't waking up. Trauma. Cristina told herself. She's been through a trauma. Yesterday, she was operating, and now, she was recovering from surgery herself. It always seemed somewhat ironic when doctors ended up in their own rooms.

Derek had been caught on the ICU several times, enquiring about a neuro consult on the crash victim, and Cristina had drawn the blinds on Meredith's room so that he couldn't see in. He was sent away every time, and when he was chased away by Bailey again, he started to get rather suspicious.

He got even more suspicious, when he called Meredith, and her cell phone was out of service whilst her home phone was just playing the answer machine.

Going down to the nursing station, he saw Bailey looking over a folder. It was 3pm now. In a few hours, he should be going down to Labretta's, with Meredith, but something was telling him that he was going to be cancelling that plan.

He approached Bailey, and took the folder out of her hands.

"Give me that back." She demanded, but Derek held it out of her reach.

"Not until you tell me what's going on." He said to her.

She gave him a very unamused look. "You're not in junior high, McDreamy, now give me back the damn file."

Derek stood his ground, however, and matched her determination. "Don't lie to me, Miranda. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell." She said simply, and took the folder from him easily. "Now, you do that again and I'll stick your head in a microwave." She went to walk away, but he called out to her before she reached the door.

"Everyone's avoiding me." He said to her, making her stop, but not turn around. She had stopped though, and that was enough incentive to make him carry on talking. "Everytime I get near the ICU a thousand excuses are made to get me out of there. I called Meredith, and there's no answer, and her cell is out of service. The phone hasn't been answered all day, and there's something in my head thats adding all this together and telling me that something isn't right. Now, are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to find out the hard way?"

Miranda stood motionless for a while, and then turned back to him. "Come with me." She said simply, and he followed her.

--------------------------------

Cristina had jumped slightly when the door opened, and instantly lept up from the chair she had been sitting in impatiently. She hadn't expected Bailey back again so soon, but there was still no chance in Meredith to be considered. Bailey's head came through a tiny gap in the door.

"Yang, you can go now." She instructed.

"What about watching-"

"She's still your patient. Go down to the pit, there's some sutures that need doing, but keep checking back here anyway."

Cristina nodded, and left the room, but soon passed the reason that Miranda was asking her to leave. He looked at her, confused, but Cristina avoided his eyes, heading for the elevator without looking back.

Miranda held the door open, and motioned for Derek to enter. He did so, but when he saw who was lying in the bed, he stopped walking, placed his hands over his face and exhaled loudly.

"Oh, God." He murmured into his hands, as breathing became difficult for him. He swallowed hard. "Oh, Jesus, no. No, no, no. Please, no."

Miranda stood by silently as Derek tried to compose himself. She closed the door behind him when he had entered but she had a feeling that no one would be coming in here anyway. They had all seen her lead Derek into the room when she had told them not to let him near.

"Oh, God, Meredith." He repeated, going over to the bedside and putting his hand on her cheek before turning back to Bailey. "What happened?" He asked her in a broken voice.

"Her and O'Malley were up on the freeway this morning. A truck driver lost control of the truck, and it slammed into the side of the car." Derek looked at her helplessly. "Her side."

He inhaled shakily, and collapsed into the chair beside the bed before his legs gave way beneath him. Meredith. Accident. Truck. Her side. Oh, god. He'd seen accidents like this before, and they had never turned out well.

"A truck?" He asked, tearing up as he said the word, and his voice coming out in a desperate cry. To Miranda, it sounded like he was a child who'd just lost his puppy, but instead, he was Derek, who was facing losing Meredith.

Miranda nodded. "Hit them pretty hard. It wasn't their fault. They were in the right lane, crossing no lines, breaking no tules, but the driver of the truck was drunk. O'Malley just got a concussion, he'll be released in the morning after a night of observation."

Derek nodded, glad that George was okay, but his worry for Meredith was too great for him to show that. He leaned forwards, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down, but it wasn't working. He was still feeling his heart beating erratically in his chest, although he was so sure that at any moment, it was going to stop completely.

"Is she okay?" He asked her.

Miranda said nothing.

"IS SHE OKAY?" He repeated, louder this time.

"She's in ICU, what does that tell you?" Miranda said to him.

"Oh, God." He repeated again, sounding like he was about to cry at any moment. "She was in surgery with Cristina this morning...when I was outside...?"

Miranda nodded. "That's right."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

"You would have burst in there and overcomplicated an already dangerous surgery. That's why we got another attending to do the neuro consult." Miranda told him, and he believed her. He would have been at her side in a second.

"I had a right to know." He said, almost to himself.

"Well, now you know."

"Has she...has she wo...woken up, since the surgery?" He asked, stumbling over his words slightly, afraid of the answer.

"No." Miranda told him quietly. "She was unconscious on the scene of the accident by the time the paramedics arrived, and hasn't woken up since." Derek looked at Meredith desperately, as if, at that moment, she would choose to wake up just because he was there. "They declared her comatose after the surgery, and as you know, that's not good."

Derek looked up at her. "Not good? It's a whole lot better than dead!" He told her, before looking back at Meredith.

"The next twenty four hours are crucial." Miranda told him. "I'm not going to lie to you." Derek snapped his head up, and stared at the wall directly ahead of him for a moment before he turned his eyes up to Miranda. He knew what she was going to say, but was trying to find every other meaning in his mind, just so that he wouldn't have to hear those words.

"There's a high chance she won't make it through the night."

He choked on the air that he had been forcing himself to breathe, and let out a half-strangled sound. He didn't care that Miranda was still watching him, because it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Meredith was hurt, and if she didn't make it...

"She'll make it." He said firmly, gripping her hand tightly and bringing it up to his lips, where he kissed her knuckles. "She'll be okay. She'll make it." He held her hand tightly, hoping that feeling his touch would be enough to make her wake up.

Miranda stood by for a moment, until she realised that she had been there for ten minutes now, and Derek had made no move to leave the room. Although, someone could walk in and declare that he was needed for a surgery that would give him lots of publicity, and save a very valuable life, and he still wouldn't move from his spot at Meredith's side.

"Doctor Shephard..." She started, but he spoke without turning to her.

"Get the Chief to take me off the board." He said simply, his voice sounding empty and deprived of the spring it had held when Miranda forced him away from the OR earlier. "I'm staying here with her."

He didn't turn to see if Miranda had left, but he knew that she was gone when he heard the door open, and then shut behind her. He knew that Richard wouldn't be happy with him being taken off the board, but this was Meredith. She could die, and he didn't want to be anywhere than at her side.

"She'll be okay." He whispered again, bringing his forehead to rest on their clasped hands. "She just has to be."