Fever.

February 15, 2017.

Seattle, Washington.

The precious quiet of the room almost lulled her to sleep. She was alone, tucked away in a quiet corner meant for new mothers, a warm newborn snoozing in her arms. Ellis breathed every few seconds, cooing to herself, and every few minutes she stretched out and repositioned her tiny arms. Cristina rocked back and forth in a padded chair, following a trail of baby animals that marched into a barn on the far wall. Someone had dimmed the lights when they had stashed her in here, so the whole place was dreamlike. It contributed to her hope that this whole day was one long nightmare, and that she would wake up soon. She would wake up, and everything would be fine.

It had been twenty minutes since Owen had left for news. She was beginning to think he had fled the country. She was glad when someone knocked on the door, but she frowned when Alex poked his head in. He looked uncertain. He slipped inside, only allowing a small fraction of the nursery light to pour across the floor, and then he shut them in together.

"Hey," he said, coming to crouch by her chair. He put his hand on the armrest. He was using his doctor voice, the same one he used on the little kids he operated on. "Callie said you wanted news."

She was unsure about his tone, and the weird grief in his eyes. He had seemed much more confident earlier when racing down the hall with the breathless newborn earlier. It was like the fire had drained out of him now. It was liked Cristina was looking in the mirror.

"I do," she responded, matching his quiet tone. "Uh, not that I don't appreciate your big sad eyes, but where's Owen?"

He smiled, reaching over to place his hand delicately on the baby's chest. He seemed enchanted with her. It was the only word that could describe the look in his eyes. "He was with Callie. I think they went to the cafeteria to get Collin something to eat."

She waited, wishing she had a free hand to smack him. "So?"

"I did a trach on Lexie and rebuilt her airway. We called in somebody from plastics but he won't touch her until she's had at least a day to cool down. I think she'll come around."

She was almost afraid to prod him for more.

He sensed her indecision. He shifted his hand from the baby to her arm, squeezing it lightly. "Mer is doing great. Addison had to do a hysterectomy, but it was vaginal, so she won't have a scar and she'll heal up in no time."

"Uteruses only caused her trouble anyway."

He laughed. "She said the same thing."

Her heart jumped. "She's awake?"

He twisted his lips. "She was for a little while, but we put her on a heavy morphine drip when the pain kicked in. She asked about the girls."

"I want to see her."

He stood up, hunching over her, and put his hands out for the baby. "Can I hold her?"

She passed Ellis to him, realizing that he was one of the few people in the world she would trust to hold the newborn. He sat in the chair beside her, holding the baby snuggly in one arm while he dusted her hair back with his free hand. She wondered about that look on his face, that paternal protection he seemed to offer. It reminded her of how he had looked after Zola when she was sick, when her parents weren't even allowed to visit her.

"Hi, beautiful," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Your mom is gonna be fine. She can't wait to meet you. And your sister is a fighter. You got a hell of a family, kid."

Cristina watched them for a few moments, glad to see him happy, and glad to see something that wasn't dismal and gray. She hated to interrupt it. "I would go on my own, to see Meredith, but I almost ate tile earlier. If you could just find me a wheelchair…"

He smirked. "Relax. I heard you. Wait here."

He left with the baby, letting the door shut behind him. Cristina wiggled her way out of her chair, turning to hold onto it when the room spun. She could feel her pulse thrumming in her forehead, and deep within her arms. Her blood pressure must have been through the roof. She tried to settle herself, flattening her hair and smacking her cheeks to get a little color in them.

Alex returned with a wheelchair. He helped her into it, appearing amused while she pouted. "You gonna cry, Yang? You want me to get you a tissue?"

"I want you to kiss my ass, evil spawn."

He took her the long way to the ICU, letting all of her coworkers see her being escorted in her little black wheelchair. She glared at everyone they passed, daring them to make eye contact. Her newest set of interns, barely out of medical school – currently under the supervision of the man pushing her wheelchair – skittered off in every direction when she passed by, like little roaches in the beam of a flashlight. She only dropped her glare when they made it upstairs.

It was much quieter in this area, the silence only permeated by the constant beeping of machines. For once it was not full. Cristina glanced into the empty rooms, wondering if people had suddenly learned how to drive in the snow. She really doubted it.

Meredith was in the room right across from the nurse's station. She was lying flat, her hands resting at her sides, her head off to the right. She was pale from losing blood, but not as pale as she had been the day she had almost drowned. Cristina was glad for the difference. Her breathing was strong and her eyes moved beneath the lids, signaling activity in her brain. She was thinking. She was probably worrying about her kids. She had no way of knowing what was happening.

Alex wheeled her to the right side, and he went to the left. Together they leaned over their friend, holding onto her hands, watching her face. Cristina sensed a deeper affection in Alex, and a deep, boyish fear in his eyes. It made her wonder how close they had gotten when she'd left. She wondered if more than friendship drove him. He had been so sweet with the baby, and now he was gazing at the mother like his whole world was falling apart.

"Easy tiger," Cristina remarked.

He glared at her. "Shut up."

"Is that all you have to come back with? Shut up? When I left Seattle you got soft."

"It's not like that," he grunted, returning his eyes to Meredith. "She's… my best friend."

"She's mine, too," Cristina reminded him. She tried to drop the possessive tone in her voice. She was acting a bit like a toddler. He looked genuinely upset, even as Cristina managed to come to terms with the situation. "Alex, I didn't mean-"

"There you are!" Suddenly they were not alone. Addison appeared in the doorway, a little out of breath. She beckoned Alex. "Robbins wants you down in the NICU."

"What happened?" Cristina demanded, rolling her chair backward.

Alex jumped up. "Is she crashing?"

"No, no," Addison surveyed them, and held up both hands. "Oh, no. She just developed a fever. Robbins wants you down there to monitor her."

"Why are you out of breath?" Cristina asked.

"I took the stairs. Big mistake."

Alex headed for the door, and then turned to Cristina and groaned. "Stay here."

"Yeah, that's happening," Cristina responded, struggling to get out of her wheelchair. She had lost most of the dizziness that had grounded her earlier, but her chest and back still ached from giving Meredith CPR that morning. Her stomach felt like it was going to detach and roll away.

Addison stepped into her path, guiding her gently back into her chair. "We are not dealing with more twins today. You need to rest."

"I have to-"

She crouched suddenly, putting her hands on Cristina's knees. Her face was annoyingly sincere, and her voice was gentle and patient enough to negate any opposition. "The only thing you have to do right now is take care of yourself and those babies. Robbins and Alex will take care of Lexie, and Meredith is going to be fine. Just give yourself a break, okay?"

Cristina sighed. She glanced at Alex, grumbling, "Call me if anything happens."

He rolled his eyes, vanishing down the hallway. She rolled up to the door to watch him, wishing, for just a moment, that her twins didn't exist. She would be jogging right beside him, like when they were interns. She hadn't moved like that in months.

"Soon you can just get up and slap him," Addison assured her.

Cristina smiled, invoking her whiney voice. "But I wanna slap him now."

Addison went to Meredith's bedside, lifting her gown slightly to glance at her thighs. She nodded to herself. "She did really well. She's still just as strong as she was when we met."

"Long time ago," Cristina agreed, rolling to the other side. She let her arms slump, worn from the simple motion of moving her wheels. "And now I feel old again. Thanks for that."

"Nothing wrong with that."

Cristina remained silent, staring into her friend's face. Eventually she was left alone. She was sitting there for hours, just watching her eyes flicker back and forth beneath the lids. She had begun the day with a nightmare, seeing her friend lying motionless, trying desperately to get her heart to start beating again. She had seen her brought back, and then watched her crash again, watched the blood erupt from her, watched one of her children almost lose her life to her own umbilical cord. Addison was confident she would do well, and Alex seemed sure of it, but Cristina could not share their optimism.

She leaned into her friend's hand, unsure of its coldness, and forced herself to be calm. She felt sad, sort of broken by what she had seen, but she did her best to bring the light back.

She thought of their first days together, the ridiculous stress of internship, the angst all around them, and it brought a smile to her face. "Look at how far we came," she whispered, rubbing her hand up and down Meredith's arm. "We kicked ass. We are kickass surgeons, with kickass kids, and we… we are gonna keep being kickass."

"Very motivational."

She looked up, smiling at the handsome men coming into the room. Owen looked a little jittery, and Collin looked like he had just woken up from a nap. He held his arms out for her immediately, his little lip quivering, and she pulling him into her side. It felt good to hold him again, like she had become a whole person once more.

"I went down to check on Lexie," Owen said, pulling up a chair beside her. He sunk into it, his eyes on Meredith. "She has a fever, low-grade right now, but it's been steadily rising. She might have caught something from the hospital."

Cristina took Meredith's hand again, comforting her even though she was unconscious. "How bad is it? What did Arizona say?"

"She might not make it, after all," Owen sighed. He crossed his arms and shook his head, his eyes downcast. "I just don't know."

"She'll make it," Cristina said. "She's strong."

"What if she doesn't?" Owen asked, his voice becoming louder all of the sudden. It made her jump. He held up his hand. "Sorry. I just keep thinking…" he glanced at her stomach, and then stood, sending his chair skidding back a few feet. "I have to take care of something. Just take it easy here, okay? Call me if anything changes."

"You don't have to go," she said, but her words fell on nothing. He was already gone. She stared at the door, expecting him to swing back in and apologize. "Owen?"

Collin wriggled a little, also watching the door. He was frowning. His face had been stuck on that all day. "Sad," he stated, poking her cheek with one little finger.

She shook her head, grabbing his hand and kissing it, provoking a giggle. She could not help a smile, and then she looked at Meredith again. "Mer, you and me are the only sane ones left. How about that, huh? We're the normal ones!" She laughed, pulling her spirits back up. "You, me, and Collin. Who would've thought?"