Bailey's POV:

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They wouldn't let me inside. They wouldn't let me see him. They wouldn't let me operate. I found him, I was the one who could have saved his life but they wouldn't let me actually save him. I would say to be fair I was screaming at the nurses and the doctors around me on the way to the OR, with tears running down my face, and my eyes wide with fear. But I was the one of the only general surgeons who could still operate, I should be in there.

Meredith had just had her baby she was in no position to operate and if Richard could operate we wouldn't be in this situation, it was because he couldn't operate that we were, because he was potentially dying on that table and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

Ben was by my side but that was irrelevant, he was holding my hand as my whole body shook, he was murmuring comforting words, but my brain blocked them out, my brain blocked everything out. All my brain could do was replay that scene in the basement. I kept replaying finding him, I kept replaying waiting desperately for people to come down.

Then my brain decided to be cruel, it stopped playing the basement scene, it started replaying me calling him a drunk. It replayed me yelling at him, and the sad look on his face. Again and again and again. I was still waiting for another update, but there was no way I could stand up, let alone walk over there, I couldn't even speak.

Usually I start yelling when I'm stressed, but this wasn't usually, this was not something I was used to. I could save other people calmly, I could help strangers, but when it came to people I knew, my interns, my husband, my baby, my Richard. I couldn't do it, I couldn't stay calm or cool or collected. I fell apart, and I was back holding myself together with tape and glue.

As I sat still, waiting, my brain had the mercy to stop replaying me yelling at Richard and changed to good memories, memories that made my heart move out of my chest and up into my throat, then crush it, over and over again. I don't know how long I sat here, waiting, waiting for news, waiting for the surgery to be over, waiting to know if he survived or not.

Finally, thousands of hours later the door opened, a man came out with a dark purple scrub cap on, wearing navy scrubs. I knew who he was, but I couldn't name him, that wasn't what was important right now. I took one look at my expression and I knew, I knew.

"No." I whispered, as I came back to reality, I wasn't in my thoughts anymore, I was sitting on a chair in a hallway with Ben beside me, his breathing fast.

"Miranda.." The surgeon started, he stayed where he stood, he didn't try to approach me, he didn't bother, he knew it would do no good, there was no comfort, no comfort at all.

"Don't say it." I muttered, looking up at him with pleading eyes, he looked over at Ben who nodded beside me, he knew I had to hear it, I needed to hear it to believe it.

"Richard Webber.." He started speaking slowly and calmly, although his voice caught, and paused for a moment.

"No." I muttered, it couldn't be true, this isn't real.

"Richard Webber is dead." He said his eyes fixed on the wall behind us. Silent tears streamed down my face, it couldn't be real, it's not real, I kept telling myself, but I knew, I knew it was real. Ben nodded to the surgeon who turned away from us and headed down the hallway, the rest of the hospital would know in a few minutes.

As the rest of the surgical team filed out I continued to shake, my tears were no longer silent and I was gulping for breath, this couldn't be real this wasn't real. But it was so real, the pain was real.

"Mir…" Ben started, his hands resting on my shoulders, trying to calm me down, like he had been attempting to do for the last few minutes while I sobbed.

"NO!" I yelled, ripping his arms off me and standing up. "NO!" I yelled again, tears still streaming down my face, I could barely see out of my eyes, but I upended my chair and screamed. My voice echoed down the empty corridor as I threw things at the walls, as I turned chairs and beds over, I threw pillows against the walls, but the lack of satisfying crack when they failed to break didn't help me. I needed hard objects, I needed things to break, break like I was broken.

Hands took hold of me, holding me back. I struggled but I couldn't free myself, so I continued to scream as I shook and struggled and kicked. I could hear people talking around me, but their yelling voices were muffled by both my inward and outward screaming, my face was still wet with tears but the tears had stopped coming, I had nothing left in my to cry. But I still had a lot of screaming left.

"What are you looking at!" I screamed at the nurses and doctors staring at me from down the hallway, I could see that they were concerned but why should I care, Richard was dead, nothing else mattered, not anymore.

Still screaming and struggling I saw a nurse out of the corner of my eye with a needle, moving fast I pushed her away from me, she fell to the ground and instead of apologising I kept screaming, wanting to break things, wanting to do something, anything.

I felt the grip on my loosen, I moved to pull away but I felt a sharp pain in my arm. Turning my head, I saw Ben's hand withdrawing a needle from my arm, I stopped yelling 'no' I felt my body stiffen, and my head went black, everything was dark.

Just like that I was put to sleep, I could scream no more, I could no longer kick and struggle, I would have to go wherever I was taken, but at least my mind was quiet, there was no more yelling inside of me, there was no more outward yelling either, I was finally silent.

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