"You can't go in there."
Miranda Bailey was standing guard outside Meredith's doorway. She crossed her arms over her chest and despite that fact that he towered over her, Derek felt very small.
"I have her CT scans," Derek said, brandishing the large manilla folder he was holding. His hand shook slightly as he held it out - he wouldn't be surprised if he left behind five sweaty fingerprints.
Bailey raised a critical brow. "Scans are not usually personally delivered to patients in their bed, Dr. Shepherd."
"This is an unusual case, Bailey. You know that," Derek murmured, frowning.
Sighing, she gave in and stepped aise. "Five minutes. And don't you dare work her up, Shepherd, I mean it. That girl has had enough for one day."
Nodding his thanks, Derek slid past Bailey into Meredith's hospital room. She smiled at him weakly from her bed. There was a huge navy comforter over her lap, and even so, her fingers and lips still held onto the terrifying blue she had been when he had pulled her out of the sound.
"Hi."
Derek smiled softly at her. God, it was so good to see her alive. "Hi back." He crossed the room quietly and sat in the chair beside her bed. "I, uh… I have your scans."
Something on his face must have given it away, because Meredith frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Um -" Derek cleared his throat. "I - why don't you look for yourself."
As he passed her the envelope, he felt like the executioner, handed over a death note. He could only watch as Meredith removed the scans and examined them with an expression of intense concern.
A few seconds passed. "Oh my god," she breathed. She glanced at Derek. "These are mine?"
"Yeah," Derek said solemnly. He reached over her and tapped the name in the bottom right corner - GREY, M. There was no denying it.
Meredith pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut. "What are we going to do?"
"I… don't know." Derek gently removed the scans fro Meredith's hands and slid them back into the envelope, sealing it shut. He didn't want to look at them anymore. "But it will be okay. We'll figure it out."
Meredith shook her head incredulously. "Don't say that. Don't lie to me." She inhaled, deep and shuddering. "If I were anyone else you'd be giving me a six month prognosis and telling me to finally take that trip to Europe." Remarkably, she laughed, and reached up to wipe her eyes.
Derek simply watched her, at a loss for words. Meredith exhaled loudly and smoothed out her comforter. "Just don't tell anyone, ok?" she mumbled, very quietly. "Not Cristina or Izzie or George or anyone. Just - I'll do it."
Numb, Derek nodded in agreement. "Alright." He stood, unsure if he should stay or go. He got his answer when Dr. Bailey stuck her head into the room.
"Time's up. Out, Shepherd."
Meredith smiled faintly and waved at him as he left. He brushed past Bailey into the hallway, tightly clutching the envelope containing Meredith's scans in his fist. Its contents were burned into his mind - a healthy brain with no lasting damage after three hours without a heartbeat.
Healthy, except for the massive tumor currently pressing on the frontal lobe. At least the size of a baseball. Derek had never seen anything like it.