"You're completely sure about this?" Michael says in a low voice to Meredith as she pulls a sweatshirt over her head.
"I am. He's a good guy, Mike. He won't take advantage, if that's what you're worried about. And besides, I'm a Marine, I can take care of myself. You taught me how." Meredith replies. She's being discharged from Seattle Grace the day after the fire, and the two Marines are alone in her room together.
The previous day, Kellin had only decided to stare down Derek, as if to assert his dominance. After, he settled into the chair beside Meredith's bed and talked, which left Derek both confused and shocked.
"And he actually does care about you? He's not just doing it because he feels obligated?"
"We've been on one date. And he saved my life once already, so it would be a real shame if anything were to happen to me again now." Meredith bites.
"I've saved your life too, doesn't mean I want to make out and move in with you."
"Oh, ew," she scrunches her nose at the thought of kissing Michael, "and don't pretend like I haven't saved your ass either."
He shakes his head slightly, a smirk on his face. "I have a couple of meetings at Puget Sound later, so I have to go." He starts towards the door.
"Let me know where you're staying, maybe we can grab lunch or something while you're here," Meredith replies, waving him off. Micheal nods and leaves, and not ten seconds after, Teddy walks in. Meredith smiles. "Well, look who finally decided to show up."
The cardio surgeon is in scrubs but looks tired and disheveled. "I knew you were fine, we've survived worse."
Meredith stops to study her friend and raises an eyebrow with a sly smile. "What were you doing all night?" Teddy turns pink, and Meredith laughs. "I guess that's a valid excuse for not coming by to see me. I assume you and Hunt are getting along well, then?"
Her best friend is getting laid. A lot. All the time. Jealousy flashes through Meredith.
Teddy nods vigorously, and Derek walks into the room with multiple boxes and bags. He lets them drop on the bed.
"Andy Herrera, the firefighter from last night saved whatever she could from your room. Here's your stuff. I can put it in the car when we drive back to the house." The neurosurgeon says, and Meredith brightens instantly.
She may not have had much, but everything important to her was in that hotel room. After digging through the boxes and bag, she's shocked to find that everything is still intact. Most importantly, her awards and uniforms.
"Thank you," she smiles, and she pulls him in for a quick kiss. Derek is in street clothes, and has the day off, as he was paged in the middle of the night the day before and hasn't been home since.
In a whirlwind, Derek gets the car packed and Meredith says goodbye to Teddy. The colonel doesn't have PT again until tomorrow. They get into Derek's car, since Meredith still doesn't have one, and drive the short drive back to Derek's house.
"It's all woodsy up here. You told me about this, but- holy shit." Meredith cuts herself off when Derek pulls into the gravel driveway and parks. She gets out, limping slight,ly and takes in not only the house but the view surrounding it.
"Amazing view, right?"
"All this is yours?"
"And I have no idea what I'm gonna do with it."
They stand in silence for a long few minutes, mesmerized by the beautiful land around them.
"How much for rent?" She asks abruptly.
"What?" He faces her, confused.
"How much do you want for monthly rent? This place is amazing, and probably not cheap."
"Meredith," he laughs and steps close to her, "you're not paying rent to stay with me. I won't let you."
She gazes into his eyes, illuminated by the rare sun in Seattle. "Are you sure? Don't pity me, I have enough money-"
"I don't pity you, and I don't doubt that you have money, but you will not be paying rent. It's the least I can do."
She studies him for a long minute and wants to argue again, but he leans forward and cuts off any protests with a searing kiss.
When they pull back, he smirks at her. "Let's get your stuff inside and I'll show you around."
Many hours later, all of Meredith's belongings are neatly placed in the guest bedroom, and the dressings on all her different injuries have been changed, which is a real pain in the ass.
"I'm exhausted, I think I'm going to take a nap." Meredith stands from her spot on the couch next to Derek, where they had been talking.
"Do you want anything to eat first? It's almost dinner."
"I'll eat whenever I wake up," she shrugs, pecks him on the lips, and heads into the guest bedroom to take a long, much-needed rest.
"Major, let's move!" Colonel Michael Kellin yells over the sound of gunfire. I glance up, raising a hand to shield my sight from the heavy Afghan sun.
"Sir?" I've only been in the Marines for a year, and my current commanding officer has been with me through it all. We're like brother and sister. I'm not a rookie, I spent three years in the Navy before this, but after being in a huge ship collapse and nearly losing my leg, I transferred.
"There's a humvee waiting for us with ten soldiers. We have to get back to friendly territory or we're all dead. Move your ass, Marine!" He yells back.
This is only my third mission out as a Marine field surgeon. Some of the time I spend is at camp, where my patients are brought to me so I can operate there. But, when they need doctors out in the field, I'm always first to volunteer.
Without hesitating any further I swing my pack back onto my back. My bag is full of medical supplies and water, compared to the real soldiers', who have weapons and other essentials. There are however, two Beretta M9s strapped in holsters to each of my legs.
Learning how to fire guns was not what I expected when I enlisted as a surgeon, but being able to defend myself has proved quite useful.
Without a second thought, I sprint out of my shelter behind an old building to the cover in the middle of the sand where Kellin is waiting for me with another soldier.
"Get to the humvee, I'll cover you." Corporal Liam Michnny, nicknamed Mickey, tells us both from his spot on the ground, firing his larger machine gun into the distance. I can't tell where the bullets flying at us are coming from, but I know we've been ambushed and have to get out of here.
Sweat rolls down my face, but I have gotten used to the heat by now. That, and finding sand in every single crevice of my body.
"You first, Grey," Kellin tells me and I know better than to argue. So, I nod and wait for his command before making a mad dash through about twenty yards of sand to a trench where our escape vehicle awaits. I jump down into the cover, instantly greeted by two other men.
"Is anyone hurt?" I demand, looking around. Nine men are around me, four of them already in the humvee. No one speaks up, and a thud on the ground behind me alerts me that Kellin made it safely into the trench as well.
"Start loading up, we gotta get outta here." Kellin orders and everyone starts into the large, tan hummer. As I'm getting into one of the back seats, I hear a yell, followed by sickening thuds. I turn and find Mickey on the ground, clutching his leg which is quickly soaking with blood. Acting on instinct, I leave my spot and run over to him. I check his leg quickly before dragging him with the help of another soldier to the vehicle.
"Through and through GSW to the left thigh," I announce and space is cleared in the back for the injured soldier to extend his bad leg so I can tend to it. As soon as we're in, the humvee starts rolling.
We keep cover as best as possible, but I'm not paying attention to where we're going. My focus is on my patient as I do my best to treat his gunshot wound until we get back to a medical camp.
"Four hundred yards through the town and we're good." I hear someone yell.
"Can we make it?" Someone else asks. Through the old town we're nearing, there's no cover, therefore nothing stopping us from being shot.
"Is there anyone in the town?"
"Affirmative."
"We don't have a choice. Drive, Sargent." Kellin effectively ends the conversation and my body jerks forward as whoever is behind the wheel steps on the gas.
"Two hundred yards." Someone says. My heart is pounding as I wipe a bit of sweat from my brow, focusing on Mickey.
That's when everything stops. Before I know what's happening, we're flying through the air. Everything around me happens in slow motion. Most of the guys have seatbelts on, but I don't. The impact of the humvee slamming on the ground causes me to go flying towards the ceiling.
I'm thrown around the back of the vehicle like a ragdoll as it flips. Somewhere along the way, we lose two men. I feel the heat and power from a blast as it pushes us further. All sense of direction abandons me and I close my eyes, waiting for it to be over.
The screams reach my ears next. When I open my eyes again, our humvee is upside down, soldiers with seatbelts hanging from the ceiling. The screams aren't from us, though. They're from children. The children in the town we just drove through.
I try to move, which launches dizziness and stars into my already blurry vision, but I push through it and manage to drag my body out of the open side door of the hummer. The smell of burning invades my nostrils and I lift my head up enough to see the flames.
I put together that there must have been an IED that we ran over and activated, which caused the explosion. I turn my attention back to the humvee, assessing the soldiers I can see.
Everyone is either unconscious or dead. I pull a knife out of one of the many pockets in my pants and struggle to my feet. I approach the vehicle and begin sawing away at the seatbelts holding the soldiers into their seats- upside down.
First one done, I help the limp body of the Marine to the ground and check for a pulse.
Nothing.
I move on, one by one, pulling out the soldiers and after removing eight of them, only three are alive. Corporal Michnny, the lucky son of a bitch made it. They're all critical, so I'm rushing back and forth between the three of them, trying to do what I can to keep them all alive.
My brain is working slowly, I definitely have some type of head trauma, and my old leg injury is beginning to act up again. I ignore the pain. Mickey is about to bleed out, so I sit on top of him, holding pressure to whatever wounds I can find.
"Grey?" A voice slurs behind me and I turn my head to find myself staring into the gray eyes of Michael Kellin. His helmet is gone, his dirty blonde hair astray.
"Call it in. You got a radio?" I reply, and he nods, collapsing into the sand next to me. I visually assess him, he's bleeding profusely from his scalp, the crimson liquid dripping down his face, and I know he's got a bad head injury. Go figure.
His movements and speech are slow, and he doesn't seem to be processing. My own body is screaming at me, burning and hurting in multiple places, but I ignore it. Mickey is not going to die.
"Kellin, you need to go hold pressure on Michnny's wounds, okay? You gotta keep him alive." I tell my CO, and he stumbles towards the other two men right next to me, stopping in his tracks when the radio comes to life and I hear incoherent mumbles from him. "Mission team seven to base, come in?" I take over, shouting at the radio instead.
"This is base. What's your status?" Someone replies.
"This is Grey, emergency, code red. Requesting immediate backup and medical evac." I continue. "Five dead, five injured and two unaccounted for."
"Roger that, stand by." I wait, shifting to try and get more pressure on the bleeding man under me.
"Kellin! You have to get over there and hold pressure or he'll bleed out!" I shout, and he stares at me for a moment, then obeys. We switch spots, and I crouch by one of the other living Marines with the radio by my side.
"Ten-four, what's your twenty?" The radio whirrs again.
"Unknown. Somewhere around Town Fox." I reply, using the codenames we had developed for every area near base.
"Hey!" A raspy, male voice that I don't recognize sounds behind me, and I turn so quickly I'm afraid I'm going to puke, my eyes widening as I see a dark-skinned man wearing dirty, ripped, robes heading towards us, with a giant gun in his hands. "Get away from him and put your hands up!" He commands, aiming the gun at me. He's about thirty yards away, but if I move and get shot or taken, these guys are all going to die. "I said move!"
Kellin is completely unaware of the situation, he looks pretty sick as he attempts to hold pressure on Mickey's puncture wound. The radio crackles next to me once again.
"Backup coming ASAP, look for air support. Over and out."
I can hear crying and burning from the town next to me, but my thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang and excruciating pain erupting from my arm. I bite my lip so hard I taste blood to muffle the groan of pain.
"Next one goes in your head if you don't get up!" The man yells.
I glance to one side, where a line of bodies now lay on the sand. Some of the faces of the men are unrecognizable due to the damage from the blast. I don't know what I look like, but I tear my eyes away from my fallen comrades. Two of our unit are still unaccounted for, I have to do this on my own.
I try to shut out the sound of screams, as I don't need to turn around to know what damage has been done to the town from the explosion. But I also know that smell, that sound, that sight, the horror I'm witnessing right now is going to stick with me forever.
I slowly stand and turn to face the man, raising my good arm. A plan is formulating in my mind, but I don't have much time. He smirks and starts coming closer, but I don't make my move until he relaxes his grip on the gun and aim at me. I reach down to my leg and pull out the M9 from its concealed holster.
Without hesitation, I pull the trigger and fire three rounds into the man's chest. Blood soaks his shirt and he collapses to the ground. I run over to him, grabbing the machine gun and checking for a pulse.
None. I feel a rush of emotions but push them away. I need to get back to my people.
I drop the gun and quickly return to my place with the injured Marines, ignoring the warm blood I can feel creeping through my clothes and trying to save him. Every time I move my arm it sends another wave of pain.
I shout off instructions on how to help Mickey to Kellin, who, after puking, tries to obey. His head injury is bad, probably a hematoma from blunt trauma.
It's only when I look up and see the air support as well as two other humvees making their way towards me that I allow myself to cough- the cough I'd been holding back- let the darkness creeping into the corners of my vision take over, and collapse onto the ground.
Meredith jolts upright in bed, searing pain shooting through her midsection, but she doesn't realize it. Panic has set in.