"So, you two served together for six years?" Derek leans back in the uncomfortable hospital chair in Meredith's room, talking to both of the Marines now inhabiting his hospital.
"She had been in the Navy for a year when I first joined. We were under the same CO and bonded from there." Teddy nods from her spot sitting on Meredith's bed. "I was also injured in the same attack that leads to her whole leg situation. We were at UCLA together for months recovering before making the joint decision to transfer to the Marines."
"Leg situation?" Derek raises an eyebrow at Meredith.
She shrugs. "You saw the scans, I have a metal rod instead of a fibula in my left leg. That was thanks to a collapse on a Naval battleship that took a missile."
"I almost drowned, shattered a couple ribs, and screwed up a whole mess of organs." Teddy lists her injures nonchalantly. "Anyway, it's the whole reason we transferred to the Marines. Neither of us wanted to be back living on a ship anytime soon after that."
"Well, I can understand why. I think you're crazy for going back after that."
"It's not something we can just give up, Derek. It doesn't matter how much we risk our own lives, because we both know how important our work is."
"Are you going back?" He turns to Teddy.
"No, I revived an honorable discharge when they ended my tour."
"We're stuck here together." Meredith cracks a smile.
"At least it's Seattle, I'll never again take rain for granted."
"It rains all the time here, it's kind of annoying." Derek glances at the window, out of which he can see that rain is lightly sprinkling the city.
"Try not having any rain for months at a time in a desert, then see how annoying it is." Meredith follows his gaze.
"Fair point." He nods. "You have any interesting stories?"
"I have enough stories to last a lifetime."
"What did you do for fun? I mean, it wasn't just work twenty-four-seven, was it?"
Both women burst out laughing at this, leaving Derek completely confused.
"Sorry, sorry. You'd think Marines are big, badass, no-nonsense people but we really played jokes on each other constantly at base." Meredith smiles.
"Remember when we threw an MRE Bomb in your tent at night?" Teddy snickers.
"Yes." Meredith's face is unamused, remembering that night very vividly. "I put you all on trash duty, night patrols, and made you run medical stock for a month."
"You found it so funny until it happened to you." Teddy rolls her eyes.
"You threw a bomb into Mer's tent?" Derek cuts in, horrified.
"Just an MRE bomb. We make them out of a plastic soda bottle, an MRE heater, and a little thing of Tabasco sauce. They're just like, rudimentary tear gas." She informs him, quickly clearing up his wrong idea. "Death didn't get hurt, but she sure was pissed. It was worth it though to see her run out of that tent in a panic." Teddy laughs again.
"Don't forget I outrank you still, Major." The blonde says firmly, meeting her friend's gaze with a smile.
"Did you just call her Death? The general called her that yesterday too and I thought I heard him wrong," Derek glances between them, feeling stupid.
"Nicknames are kind of a thing too, everyone has one or two. We're uh," she bites her lip, smiling, "we're known as Death and Die."
"I don't want to know the story behind that."
"I wouldn't tell you if you asked," Meredith smirks.
"Can I ask about something else, then?" He stares at the blonde patient.
"Depends," She narrows her eyes.
"That scar, the one on your neck," he points to his own neck, mirroring where her scar is. "Is that from a surgery or something? There's nothing about it in your file."
Her fingers instantly move to the right side of her neck, feeling the rigid skin. This is a question she doesn't want to answer.
To Meredith's relief, Derek's pager beeps before she can, interrupting the conversation. He glances at it, seeing major incoming traumas.
"I've got to go, some big cases headed to the ER." He stands, glancing at the women apologetically.
"It's okay, go save some lives." Meredith sends him off with a weak smile, and once he leaves, Teddy sprawls out on the bed even more. The major knows the story and changes the subject.
"You've been here for what, three weeks?"
"Four."
"Can you walk?"
"Relatively."
Teddy hums in acknowledgment. "Have you..." she starts, then trails off, turning to face Meredith, "have you had any dreams or anything?"
The colonel is quiet for a moment, then nods slowly. "The first big thunderstorm I woke up and thought it was a bomb. A couple of other times there will be a big sound or smell or something..."
"I had a dream about the missile attack on the flight back to the states. It was terrifying."
"It's PTSD." Meredith states softly, dropping her gaze. "We've seen it in soldiers before. It's PTSD."
Teddy nods, and they fall quiet. Meredith knows it will probably get worse for her before it gets better, and so does Teddy.
Some time goes by and Alex appears in the doorway. He and Cristina had stopped by the previous day to admire Meredith's award for a while.
Meredith's hand is still on the scar. Somehow, she had forgotten about it for the most part until Derek brought it up.
"I need your help." Alex says, and both women look up from the game of Spades they're playing.
"What?"
"I have this kid, grade three liver lac. I had to do a bowel resection and repair damage to his kidney but he's gonna bleed out."
"Okay?"
"I asked Robbins, she said that I should just pack him and see if his stats improve, then bring him back in."
"Arizona Robbins? The fetal surgeon?"
"Yeah, but she trained me, remember? She ran peds before me. Anyway, the kid's gonna die if I pack him. And they just saved his mom so I need to save him, but I don't know what to do."
"You want me to consult?" Meredith raises an eyebrow.
"You're double board-certified in trauma and general, you're a decorated military surgeon. If anyone can think outside the box, it's you."
"Do you have his chart?" Meredith asks instantly, already growing excited at the thought of being able to practice some sort of medicine again.
Alex hands over the binder and Teddy stands up. "I'm gonna get some coffee. You have fun."
As Teddy leaves, Meredith and Alex dive into the patient, working quickly with limited time.
There are techniques that are completely unheard of to anyone who hasn't worked in military trauma. Meredith spent her first years learning them, then teaching them and developing them, which is exactly what she's doing with Alex right now. She knows just how to save this kid.
Hours later, Meredith is dozing on her side in bed. Teddy left the hospital for a hotel a street or so away from SGMW. Derek opens the door to her room quietly and steps in. She greets him with a smile, and he comes to sit next to her on the bed.
"I heard you helped save a kid's life today."
"I just taught Alex a couple of military tricks, he did the saving." She nods. "How about you? In surgery all day?"
He nods.
"I like the scrub cap. What's your deal with ferryboats?"
"New York didn't have ferries, Seattle has water on three sides. I have a thing for ferryboats." He shrugs, suddenly blushing a bit.
"I didn't know that," she smiles. "Why'd you never mention it until now?"
He shrugs, leans against her, and pulls off his scrub cap to fumble with it in his hands.
"Rough day?" She asks softly.
"Yeah."
She doesn't push him any further, knowing exactly how he feels. They're quiet, he simply needs her company, and she's so tired that before either of them knows it, Meredith is asleep, snoring lightly.
"We have five minutes to get out before this whole place blows up." Corporal Leavey says, stepping away from the bomb he just placed.
"Where the hell are we?" Corporal O'Connor glances around.
"God, these halls are so confusing."
"We can't get blown up, O'Connor still owes me twenty bucks." Sergeant Guerrero snickers. I stifle the urge to roll my eyes.
"Shut it! All of you! I don't want to die, and I'm pretty damn sure you don't either so let's get out of here." I cut in, my heart pounding in my chest, but I don't show it.
"Why are you even here, Colonel? I mean, you're a surgeon, not a soldier." O'Connor makes eye contact with me. His voice shakes slightly, and I feel a little bad, he's scared, but we all are.
"I'm asking myself the same thing." I shake my head. "Daniels, can you get us out of here with that transmitter thing?"
"I can try, ma'am. Follow me." The young private replies. It's his first mission.
"Don't get us killed, Probie."
"Guerrero. Enough." I silence the Sergeant next to me sharply. He's a real asshole, but he's good at what he does, so I have to put up with him.
I'm the highest ranking Marine here, putting me in charge, even though I'm technically not a soldier. I'm also the only woman on our team at the moment. Guerrero is my second in command for the mission, Leavey is a bomb specialist, ex-SEAL, and O'Connor and Daniels are here for extra eyes and hands. Daniels is a nerdy guy, new to the Navy, but he's really techy and has all these devices that have come in pretty handy.
I'm pretty sure the General sent me on this mission in case anyone got hurt, the four men I'm with seem to be some of his favorites at our base. I'm not a special-ops soldier like these guys. I can fire a gun and I have two Berettas holstered to either leg, but the only other things I carry in my thirty-pound bag are medical supplies.
We're in the middle of the dark and confusing tunnels of an underground enemy base. Our job was to place the bomb and get out. The part we're in is mostly abandoned, but the explosion will flush out the terrorists into a US Marines ambush. It's going to be bloody, that I know for a fact.
We're running through the halls, following Daniels at a fast pace, but silently. It's surprising how quietly a group of five people with guns and equipment can travel with the proper training.
"Three minutes and counting," Leavey announces quietly.
"This hall doesn't look familiar."
"Shut the hell up," I growl at Guerrero, and he doesn't say another word. Annoying son of a bitch. O'Connor is behind me, bringing up the rear as we travel in a single file line, following Daniels.
After what seems like ages, we reach a flight of stairs leading us upwards. These look like the stairs we came in on.
"Oh, thank God." Daniels breathes as he reaches the surface. The rest of the team follows him, glad to be out of the enemy tunnels.
The Afghan sun beats down, but there's a little breeze and everyone's grateful for the fresh air, even if it means we're walking on gravel instead of pavement.
"One minute, radio General and we gotta get the hell away," Leavey speaks up again. The men crowd around me as I pull my bag off my back, squatting to pull out my radio.
I stand back up and turn around, my back not a foot from the tunnel exit. I tune the radio to the designated channel, holding it up to try and get something.
"Colonel!" Someone shouts suddenly, and all at once, the four men in front of me have their weapons drawn. Before I have a chance to move or react, a muscular, sweaty arm wraps around me from behind. I'm pulled back and I feel the strong build of a man's body against mine. He adjusts his position before I have a chance to fight back.
Now, one arm is wrapped around my waist while the other holds what feels like a knife to my neck.
I hold my chin high, the cold, sharp weapon resting on my skin right next to my carotid.
The man demands something in a language I quickly recognize as Pashto, the official language in Afghanistan. No one answers, because no one knows what he asked. My breath catches in my throat as he presses the knife harder, shouting again.
"English! We only speak English!" Daniels yells.
"Who are you?" The man surprisingly switches to English, his words hard to distinguish under a heavy accent.
"Americans," Guerrero replies simply.
"Why are you here?"
No one answers. I feel my heart pounding in my chest as I make eye contact with Guerrero. I do my best to stay calm, trying to tell him the same thing.
I clench my jaw, holding back a yell as the weapon pierces my skin.
"Tell me or she dies!"
"You have thirty seconds to let her go before we all die," Leavey speaks up.
I groan slightly as I feel pain stab through the tender skin of my neck, and feel the blood well up and dribble down to my uniform.
I close my eyes for a moment, it's highly unlikely I'll get out of this situation. Either my throat is slit or I'm blown up.
"What have you done?" He demands.
"We just," I rasp in a moment of adrenaline-fueled bravery, "we just put a bomb in there. Let me go and go warn your friends." I make eye contact with Guerrero as I whisper, barely able to get my words out for fear of being stabbed, but I think the man gets it.
"A bomb?" At this point, I can hear the fear in his voice and I know our time is running out.
"Let her go." My second in command demands again. "We won't ask again."
I gasp as his sudden movement presses the blade deeper into my neck, then stumble to the side as he releases his hold on me. I hit the ground, knowing what they need to do, then three gunshots sound, and I hear the thud of the strange man's body hit the ground as well.
"We have ten seconds," Leavey says urgently, and the men holster their guns and run over to me, hauling me to my feet.
"Colonel, are you okay?" O'Connor asks, throwing an arm around me for support as we begin to run.
"Guerrero, call it in. We need to get as far away as possible." I take the offered support from O'Connor and follow his lead, the thud of feet behind me telling me that others are following.
It doesn't take long. I hear Guerrero shout urgently into the radio, then the entire ground shakes around us as our bomb goes off.