Author's Note- Okay, guys. So first of all I just want to say that I owe all of you a HUGE apology. I know it has taken forever to get this chapter out and that I ended the last chapter with a huge cliffhanger. Life has been insane though and this chapter in particular contains a lot of medical terminology etc. I'm not a surgeon or a medical professional at all in real life, so I had to do a LOT of research to make sure that everything in this chapter made sense. There is a chance, of course, that I still made some mistakes so please excuse if at all possible and know I worked very hard on this. And no matter what, it should have less errors than the real Grey's Anatomy (which I don't own)! Okay, enjoy (if possible) and try not to hate me too much!

"No… no, that's definitely not supposed to happen!" Meredith shrieked and in that moment, it was like her body forgot about all of its still-healing injuries. She jumped up and sprinted to the doorway; thankfully, a lot of doctors, including Owen, were still congregated in the hallway. "SHE'S SEIZING! BP IS 188 OVER 122!"

The Chief of Surgery rushed into Lexie's room. "I need you out of the way right now, Mr. Grey!"

Thatcher was standing next to Lexie, wailing. Molly tugged on her father's arm but it was not until Meredith got on his other side and forcibly dragged Thatcher forward that Owen was able to work.

Crouching over Lexie, who was still shaking violently, he grabbed a hold of her shoulders. "Help me get her on her side!"

Maybe there were other doctors nearby. Maybe Meredith was not supposed to treat family members but right now, the laws of medicine were the last thing on her mind. Meredith got on Lexie's other side and assisted Owen in rotating her so that she would not injure herself worse.

"Were there any other symptoms?" Owen asked as they held Lexie steady.

"N-Nothing… she hadn't woken-up yet or anything," Meredith said. "No history of seizures… do you know what's causing it?"

Usually, all of the employees at Seattle Grace were well-rehearsed at keeping their facial expressions neutral. No matter the situation, worrying family members and putting false-scenarios into their heads did nothing. But this time, Owen was undeniably frantic. "I… I have a hunch. I just hope I'm wrong."

"What is it?!" Meredith asked. She did not get an answer because just then, the nurses and techs were pouring into Lexie's room.

Owen was barking at them. "Push two of Lorazepam! Start sedation now! WE NEED A GURNEY IN HERE, PEOPLE! CALL AHEAD TO CT AND MAKE SURE THEY'RE READY!"

The truth dawned on Meredith. "You think she's having a STROKE?!"

"I… don't know; I don't know anything yet," Owen admitted and then he pushed Meredith out of the way as well; the gurney had arrived.

Everything was moving so fast that looking back, Meredith barely remembered anything. She knew that she had been standing in Lexie's room, watching her little sister be stabilized on the stretcher. The next thing Meredith knew, she was running down the ICU hallway beside the medical team, fighting to get onto the elevator with them.

"Grey, you know you can't be here now. Get back with your family; I'll keep you updated!" Owen ordered.

"I'M COMING!" Meredith screamed back, louder than she thought herself capable.

"No, you're not and the longer you fight me, the longer you're keeping your sister from getting the medical treatment she needs," Owen said and this statement stalled Meredith just long enough for the elevator doors to close without her.

Still unable to feel her injuries, Meredith ran for the nearest set of stairs; hopefully, she could meet Lexie and the others at CT, but before she could do so, a hand grabbed her arm and Meredith spun around to see Molly.

"Meredith, you need to stay here right now. Didn't you hear Dr. Hunt? We all have to stay here."

"BACK THE HELL UP RIGHT NOW!" Meredith screamed. Molly did not move and then another set of hands took hold of Meredith's other arm; it was Richard.

"Come on, Meredith. You know Dr. Hunt will send someone up here as soon as he can with an update."

There was no way out… not unless Meredith wanted to join Cristina in the psych ward. Forced to accept her fate, Meredith allowed Molly and Richard to guide her back into Lexie's room.

Thatcher was already there, sobbing hysterically. "Oh, God… I just can't believe it… I just can't believe it, my poor baby girl…"

"It's okay, Dad. We don't know what's going on yet… maybe it's just some kind of medication reaction. You know Lexie; she's allergic to everything," Molly said.

Meredith doubted it. They had not given Lexie any new drugs. But she kept her mouth shut because the last thing she wanted was to make Thatcher more emotional.

Everyone sat in complete silence for five, ten, fifteen minutes. And then, there were rapid footsteps in the hallway and one of Meredith's favorite ICU nurses, Mary-Katharine, appeared in the doorway.

"What's going on?!" Molly asked and Meredith noticed that this entire time, the two biological sisters had been gripping each other's hands.

Mary-Katharine took a deep breath. "We detected a small bleed on the left hemisphere of Lexie's brain. Judging from the major thoracic surgeries she has recently undergone and her blood pressure spike, our primary diagnosis is a postoperative intracerebral hemorrhage."

"Is… is that… can you fix that?!" Thatcher begged.

"Yes, absolutely. There are no guarantees, of course, but strokes are treatable and the good news in this scenario is that we caught the stroke extremely quickly. They're sedating Lexie as we speak and then one of our outstanding neurosurgeons is going to use an endoscopic evacuation to stop the bleeding. Do you want to better explain what that means, Dr. Grey?"

No, I'm not a doctor today; I'm the family of a patient, Meredith thought but she did not say this out loud. She nodded. "Yeah, um… an endoscopic evacuation is where they drill a small hole in the skull and drain the bleed endoscopically with… with a small instrument. I know it sounds scary but trust me, it's minimally-invasive and a much more solid option than a complete craniotomy."

"Can't you just give her drugs? Won't that fix it?" Thatcher asked Mary-Katharine. "I've heard this minimally-invasive crap before. My wife's surgery was supposed to be minimally-invasive, too, and she left this hospital in a body bag."

"This is so completely different than that, Dad," Meredith said. "Susan got bacterial endocarditis and went septic. Come on, you've got to trust the doctors to do their jobs."

Thatcher did not say anything; he just started crying again and Molly hugged him tightly. Meredith sighed and turned back to Mary-Katharine. "Thanks, MK. Do you happen to know who's operating?"

"Yes, we paged Dr. Nelson. I'll send him up here to speak with you as soon as the surgery is over."

Meredith thanked Mary-Katharine and then once the nurse had wandered back out into the hallway, Meredith did her best to smile at Molly. "It's okay. Nelson is the very best we have."

"Better than Derek?"

"I… yeah, I think so, but don't tell him I said that."

That was a lie, but at this point, Meredith did not need to defend her husband. She needed Molly and Thatcher to believe that Lexie was going to survive because Meredith could not take much more of this soppiness.

In the meantime, the waiting resumed. Meredith stepped out into the hallway momentarily, to update Callie who was keeping Mark informed. She also bought three bottles of water at a nearby vending machine, one for herself and one for Thatcher and Molly, respectively. They were both crying so much; if they did not consume fluids, they were going to become dehydrated.

"Do you think that Lexie's going to have to be sedated again when this is over?" Molly asked. "I mean, just for the pain and everything since she's allergic to opioids?"

Meredith could not answer that question; she was not on Lexie's treatment team. "Maybe… but they'll probably try to wake her up briefly, just to check her neurological status."

Thatcher sighed heavily and wiped at his eyes. "But she'll be okay, right? God, she's… she's got to be okay…"

"I… I hope so," Meredith whispered.

Lexie had had a stroke… Lexie had really had a stroke. Lexie was 28 years old, healthy and stable with no pre-existing medical conditions. Lexie was the last person in the world that Meredith would have thought capable of having a stroke.

Suddenly, Meredith had another flashback but this one had nothing to do with the plane crash. It was from her third year of residency, when Thatcher's liver was failing and Lexie was begging Meredith to save him. Meredith had suggested Molly as a potential donor, but according to Lexie, Molly had a history of DVT blood clots and therefore, could not donate.

"Hey, you've had blot clots before, haven't you?" Meredith said to her youngest sister.

"Yeah, I've had three DVT blood clots, once when I was a teenager and then again after each of my kids were born," Molly said and her face went pale. "Wait, do you think I could have done this to her, like, genetically?!"

"No, you aren't Lexie's parent. It just sounds like it might be something that runs in the family."

"So I did this to her?!" Thatcher cried.

"Er… no, probably not. I don't have a history of blood clots. Maybe it comes from Susan's side but try to remember that no matter whose side it comes from, you guys have all survived your blood clots," Meredith said.

Neither Thatcher nor Molly had time to reply, because just then, Owen rushed into the room, his face bright red from running. "Good news, Grey family… they just finished Lexie's procedure. Everything looks good. She should be back up here in the ICU shortly."

Thatcher and Molly sighed with relief. Meredith hesitated, leery thanks to the years she spent dedicated to neurosurgery. "What part of the brain was the bleed located? Does Nelson anticipate any lasting damage?"

"I'm not sure of the specifics but Nelson will be up here soon with a more thorough explanation," Owen said. "Regardless of the location, though, Meredith… we caught the bleed extremely quickly."

"It wasn't in the brain stem, right?"

"No, it was not. Left hemisphere. Somewhere in the temporal lobe is what I heard Mary-Katharine say."

The temporal lobe. It could be worse. It could be better, too. Meredith's mind was having a difficult time choosing one area of Lexie's brain that she would most like to be compromised. Anything that helped store memories was bad. Photographic memory or not, Lexie was brilliant and Meredith did not know what she would do if her sister could not recall the last five years of her life.

What if someone needed to tell Lexie that her mother was dead? What if they had to tell her over and over again?

Meredith was getting ahead of herself. The temporal lobe could be forgiving. Brains, as a whole, were resilient, unique in the way they could learn to rewire themselves.

Taking a short, steadying breath, Meredith nodded and thanked Owen. There was nothing more that he could do. There was nothing more that anyone could do, not until Lexie woke-up and her neurological function was assessed.

"Hold on," Molly gasped after Owen had left the room. "He didn't say whether we'll still be able to wake her up or not. Do you think she'll still be able to wake-up, Meredith?"

"Yeah, I… I mean, it might not be for long, depending on how much pain she's in," Meredith said. "After something like a hemorrhagic stroke, though… it's important to get her at least semi-conscious and make sure everything's working okay."

"What wouldn't be working okay?" Thatcher pressed. "I thought this Nelson guy fixed Lexie."

"Well, I… he fixed the bleeding but with neurosurgery, you never know…"

Thatcher's eyes were growing big and watery. "You never know… what?! Her brain might not work right?!"

"I… I mean it's just a possibility. But you heard Dr. Hunt. We caught the bleed fast and it was small and… and the surgery went well. She's probably going to be fine," Meredith said, convincing herself as much as she was her father.

"Well, I want to talk to this Nelson guy myself. I want a doctor's opinion on all this."

"I am a doctor, Dad," Meredith said; the air was awkward and silent.

Luckily, just then, the Grey family was saved from further humiliation. The gurney carrying Lexie was rolled back into the original ICU room; Thatcher, Molly, and Meredith regathered around her.

"What are we thinking, Doc? She's going to be okay, right? Or did you screw up her brain somehow?" Thatcher asked.

Nelson, who had accompanied Lexie, sighed. "It's hard to say. We caught the bleed early but it was a hemorrhagic stroke. We never know what kind of neurological deficits were suffered. Have you talked with your other daughter about these types of bleed? I coached her myself in the neurosurgery department for a couple years; she would have been great in the field if she hadn't opted to follow in her mother's footsteps with general."

Thatcher stuttered, uncomfortably. "Er… well, of course… and thank you for that, Dr. Nelson. Of course, we're all very proud of Meredith but you must understand right now, my main concern is Lexie. In your professional opinion… is Lexie going to be alright?"

"I can make no promises but I will tell you that the odds are in our favor. I'm going to get the EEG up and running, make sure her brain activity is strong and steady… that will at least give you some peace of mind prior to Lexie waking," Nelson explained.

"How long should it take for her to wake up this time?" Molly inquired.

"Again, it… it's hard to say. Whenever you're dealing with the brain, anesthesia tends to be metabolized slower. If I had to guess, though… I would be looking for some kind of motor response from Lexie within the next few hours. Once we get that response, whether it's a squeeze of the hand or her saying one of your names, we will, in all likelihood, sedate again. Lexie's going to be in a lot of pain and the last thing we want is for her blood pressure to go back up, for her brain to swell again."

This was suitable information; Thatcher and Molly conceded. Nelson did as he had illustrated and reconnected the EEG wires to Lexie's tender skull. He lifted her eyelids, gently, and shined a flashlight in each of them.

"Everything look good, Doc?" Thatcher asked, unable to restrain his frantic mind.

Nelson was fiddling around with the EEG wires, as if something had gone askew. Meredith's pulse increased; the neurosurgeon flipped a switch. "I think so…"

"You THINK so?!"

"Well, her brain activity is a little inconsistent but there are a million possible explanations for that. Lexie is still coming out of heavy sedation. Let's just give her some time to wake-up," Nelson said.

"You stay right here with us," Thatcher ordered. "Whenever she wakes up… I don't want her to be in pain, not for a second."

Meredith checked her phone, briefly. She still had no messages from her husband, despite Derek's promise to keep his wife updated. "Derek's probably wondering where I am."

"You're not going to leave now, are you?"

"No, I… of course not," Meredith answered her father. "Derek's a big boy. He can get by without me for a few more hours but I probably won't be able to spend the night."

"That's okay. I don't think we're going to be leaving this room anytime soon," Molly said. "God, I can't wait for her to wake-up. I can't wait to tell her that I love her."

"Maybe we should start trying to talk to her again," Thatcher suggested. "I know she's still snoozing but… I don't know… can she hear us, Nelson?"

Nelson shrugged. "It's impossible to know. Every case is different. Go ahead and talk to her, though. There have been plenty of instances where the presence of loved ones has helped pull patients out of anesthesia."

So that is what they did… Meredith stayed quiet, for now, but Thatcher and Molly began gabbing about Lexie's childhood and college years and boys that she had dated. According to Molly, Lexie had one really awful relationship with a guy named Rohan and the family giggled about the memories.

Meredith did not realize that it was 9:00 until Mary-Katharine looped around and informed the Greys that quiet hours were beginning, which meant that they needed to keep their voices down.

"Hold on; it's been two hours already?" Molly said. "Dr. Nelson, I thought you said that Lexie was supposed to give us something by now… some kind of response?"

Thatcher nodded, rapidly. "You did! You did say that! What's going on; is something wrong?!"

"There's not a specific deadline. Sometimes it takes people an hour to wake-up after brain surgery; sometimes it can be several," Nelson said. "My only concern is…"

He trailed off. Meredith knew the direction of his mind, though. "The lack of brain activity?"

"Shut up and let the doctor talk, Meredith," Thatcher spat angrily.

"No, your daughter is correct, Mr. Grey," Nelson confirmed. "Actually, to be perfectly honest with you… the more time that goes by, the more concerned I'm becoming with the EEG."

Meredith's heart plunged to the ground, yet at the same time, her body had gone completely numb.

"W-What does that mean?" Molly whimpered.

"Like I said, it could mean a million different things. Right now, it means we need to watch her closely and hope something changes soon," Nelson said.

"Or… what? What if something doesn't change? What then?"

Nelson was being increasingly vague. Some doctors did this when they did not want to personally break bad news to patients' families and this case was surely difficult for everyone involved. Meredith already understood, though. She knew the truth and she did not need to hear Nelson describe it a million different ways. She stood up, and turned towards the door.

"Meredith, sit down. Where do you think you're going?" Thatcher snapped.

"Um, I… I just need to… tell Mark and Callie. I… I promised Mark and Callie I would keep them updated," Meredith said.

"But we don't know what it means yet; Nelson isn't finished explaining," Molly argued. "Come on, sit down. Nelson can go out and update Lexie's friends afterwards."

This was unbearable. Meredith shook her head, desperately. "No, I… I just… I have to go."

Meredith knew that she would not be followed; Thatcher and Molly were glued to Lexie's bedside, far more interested in interrogating Nelson like he was a murder suspect than they were in their inconsistent relative.

Out in the corridor, Callie was sitting on a bench with Mark. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Lex is just… taking a while. I needed a little break from my other family members," Meredith said and tried, hastily, to think of another subject. "Um… where did Owen go?"

"I think he went up to the fifth floor to check on Cristina," Mark replied, darkly.

In all the chaos, Meredith had forgotten about her best friend, her person who had been committed to the psych ward. "Oh… right. I guess I… I should…"

"I was actually about to go check on Arizona and see if Owen needed anything," Callie said. "Mer, while you're escaping your family, you mind sitting with Mark for a while?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "What, do I need a babysitter now?"

"Technically, yes. You're supposed to be resting that ankle and you keep getting up and doing stupid stuff," Callie said. "And Mer needs to rest, too, so just… keep each other company."

They accepted the proposal. As Callie marched off towards Arizona's room, Meredith took her friend's place next to Mark who slipped an arm around her. "You hanging in there, Big Grey?"

"I guess so," Meredith said. "What about you? Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I am resting; I'm sitting down, aren't I?" Mark grinned. "And I could say the same about you. Don't you have like, three broken ribs?"

"They're healing but yeah… I probably shouldn't have helped Owen lift Lexie or sprinted down to the elevators."

"Probably not your finest idea ever," Mark said. "Damn, this has been the longest day ever and it's only 9:00. I'm getting old."

It did seem like an eternity ago that Meredith had said goodbye to Zola this morning. She yawned. "Yeah… maybe not quite as long as that last day in the woods but… still pretty damn long."

Mark paused and sighed. "Yeah, I guess I was forgetting about that day. I'm doing all I can to block those memories out but it's hard because I wasn't even lucky enough to sustain brain damage."

It was intended as a joke but Meredith did not laugh. Brain damage. Lexie had brain damage. Perhaps it was survivable. Perhaps Lexie would wake up and simply have to be taught how to talk and walk and function. Or perhaps death would be preferable…

"What?" Mark prompted when Meredith did not respond.

"Oh… nothing. How does your shrink feel about your coping mechanism?"

"I mean, I'm aware that I'm a mess so he says that's a good thing. I have another appointment with him tomorrow. What about you? How have you been dealing?"

"The same method I used after the shooting… I take care of everyone else and eventually, I'm bound to get distracted by some other drama. It is Seattle Grace Mercy Death, after all."

"Nice," Mark acknowledged.

He was possibly going to say more but just then, Thatcher's agonized wailing could be heard, accompanied by Molly's sobs. Mark's face went pale white. "Is… is that good? D-Did she wake up?"

"I… I don't think so," Meredith admitted.

"Well, you should get in there… get in there and check it out; see what's happening!"

"I… I don't think…"

The door to Lexie's room flew open and Nelson paced out, his face somber. Molly was close behind but Thatcher did not move from Lexie's bedside.

"What happened?!" Mark repeated. "Did she wake up?!"

Molly shook her head, choking back tears. "N-No… something went wrong during the surgery and now… now they don't think she's… she's g-going to wake up at all…"

"No, that's not what I said," Nelson claimed. "Nothing went wrong during the surgery. The procedure was flawless. But Dr. Sloan, I'm sure you know that sometimes, even in the most perfectly executed surgeries… things happen. It's rare but it happens and unfortunately, we're seeing minimal brain activity on Lexie's EEG."

Minimal brain activity. The words that Meredith knew were coming sunk into her mind like concrete.

"B-But… but she's not braindead, right?" Mark pleaded.

"No, she is not. Her brain stem remains intact," Nelson said. "It's only been a few hours since surgery so of course, things could still change but thus far, her brain activity has not progressed. The more time that goes by, the less hopeful I am that… that things will change, unfortunately."

Mark's body had gone perfectly still and when he spoke, it was in a monotone. "Yeah… yeah, I know the drill. It's too soon to call it an actual vegetative state. And chances are, she won't wake-up. But you can't call it brain death because that wouldn't be right and it could get you sued on the legal paperwork. If she does wake up, she… in all likelihood, she won't hold anything close to the neurological function she did previously… because her body's just endured too much trauma. Does that about cover it?"

It appeared that Nelson had been rendered speechless. If that was not the case, Meredith still failed to imagine what anyone could have said to Mark in that moment, to comfort him. This scene, and everyone involved in it was inconsolable so with no one to stop him, Mark ditched his crutches and hobbled away, down the hallway, doubtlessly eager to be anywhere else.

Meredith did not need to hear anymore either. She stood up, avoiding Molly's gaze. "I… I have to go, too, I…"

"No, Dr. Grey, stop. You know there are exceptions and it's not like we're going to discontinue Lexie's ventilator anytime soon…"

That was not what Meredith was worried about, though. In fact, if Lexie was not going to wake-up, then Meredith would prefer to unplug her here, now, today. The worst thing in the world was when a patient's family wanted to keep their loved-one on life support despite their absent brain activity. The worst thing in the world was watching someone die in slow motion.

Two particular cases were flashing through Meredith's mind… Alison Clark, the wife of Gary Clark who had shot up Seattle Grace Mercy West after his wife had a postoperative stroke and minimal brain activity. He had wanted to keep Alison on a ventilator but based on Alison's advanced-directive, the hospital was legally obligated to unplug her because there was no chance that Alison was going to wake-up…

And then Mary Portman… another patient that had been in the hospital on the day of the shooting. All she needed was a simple colostomy bag reversal… Bailey performed it flawlessly, but after the surgery, Mary never woke-up. Sometimes it happened…

Meredith sprinted out of the ICU, past Thatcher and Molly, who were both inconsolable… perhaps they wanted her to stay and cry with them, but Meredith did not have the emotional capability…

She continued running until her fractured ribs could take no more and Meredith ducked into a random, empty patient room and found Mark sitting on the bed, tears streaming from his eyes.

He tried to speak but his chest was heaving up and down. Several minutes passed broken only by the sound of sobbing and then Mark cleared his throat.

"It's… it's so ridiculous. I mean, L-Lexie's young. She's healthy… N-Nelson did an incredible j-job."

"Not as good as Derek would have," Meredith said.

"No, probably not," Mark agreed and bit his trembling lip.

Meredith sat down next to him. She wanted to comfort him, because she knew what it was like to think that the love of your life was going to die, but that was impossible. It was Meredith's sister and she needed Mark to comfort her…

Instead, Meredith reached into her purse. "I have some Clonazepam, if you want…"

Mark nodded eagerly. There were only a few pills left, but this was an emergency. Meredith would find somebody else to prescribe her anxiety medication soon.

Carefully, Meredith passed Mark one of the precious pills and kept another for herself.

"Cheers," Mark said and they humorlessly pressed their Clonazepam together before swallowing them with sips of water from the sink.

Meredith shook her head. "It's not working…"

"You've got to give it time but… yeah, I know what you mean. I don't think anything is gonna work," Mark said. "But you're lucky. At least you've got a shrink who actually prescribes you medicine. Mine won't give me anything until I actually start talking."

Again, Meredith did not say anything. She was not sure if she should reveal the truth or not.

"So… what are you doing now? Are you staying up here with your dad?" Mark continued.

"No, I need to get home to Derek," Meredith said. She knew that she should have stuck around longer and made sure that Mark was okay, but there was nothing that she could do for him. There was nothing that anyone could do.

Meredith got up and resumed her path downstairs, paging Alex to the lobby as she went. All Meredith wanted to do was walk across the street to Joe's and indulge in alcohol. She wanted to drown out the pain of losing Lexie with as many shots of tequila as she could handle and if Derek were not waiting for Meredith at home, she probably would have done just that.

Derek and Zola were waiting, though, so Meredith paced outside of Seattle Grace, hyperventilating until Alex jogged up to her.

"Hey, what's going on? Is Lexie awake?"

"I need to go home," Meredith said, ignoring the question. "Um… I'm sorry if you're not done working but… but Derek needs me and I need to go home."

The expression on Meredith's face must have said it all; Alex instantly fished his keys out of his lab coat pocket. "Yeah, okay… what's going on? Did something happen with Shepherd?"

"I'll… explain later. I just need to go home," Meredith repeated.

It was not until the duo was out of the hospital parking lot, on the main road that Meredith remembered Cristina, who was possibly trapped in the psych ward by now. Maybe Meredith should have gone to visit her before leaving… informing Cristina that one of the plane crash victims was not going to survive was not the ideal way to help her though and suddenly, Meredith knew that she could not tell Derek either… not yet.

Derek was barely back on his feet. He wanted to feel useful; he wanted to be there for Meredith. If he knew that Lexie was virtually braindead, there was a good chance that Derek would derail completely and escape to his trailer in the woods.

Meredith would be normal. Meredith would be mentally healthy. Meredith would smile and be happy…

"Okay, thanks… you can go back to work now; I know you're on-call tonight," Meredith said when Alex dropped her off in front of the house.

"Hold on; don't you want me to come inside real quick? If Shepherd's hurt, I might need to help," Alex said.

"No, he's not hurt. It's… it's something else and we just need some time," Meredith said. "Please, go back to work."

Alex must have sensed that his friend needed to be alone so he did as he was told. Meanwhile, Meredith dashed up the stairs, through the front door and quickly did a lap around the downstairs floor. Derek and Zola were not in the kitchen… or the living room, bathroom, or dining room…

"Derek?" Meredith called and immediately, the images flashed before her eyes… running through the forest that all looked the same… wondering if she was ever going to see her husband again… finding him in a pool of blood…

"Derek?! DEREK!"

"What's wrong?!"

Meredith spun around; Derek was standing at the top of the stairs, his face beyond exhausted. He was not lying in a pool of his own blood, but Derek's day with Zola had doubtlessly been rough.

Meredith swallowed back her tears and took a deep breath. "Oh… there you are. How are you feeling? How's Zola?"

"She's finally asleep. Has she always had this much energy? Because I don't remember her having this much energy," Derek yawned.

"I… I don't know," Meredith said and then made her way up the stairs and placed a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here now and you're tired. Come on, let's go to bed."

She was not sure, but Meredith thought that she heard Derek sigh with relief. "I… I didn't know you were going to be gone that long."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Lexie took a little longer than we expected to wake-up," Meredith lied.

"But she's awake now? Why aren't you up there with her?"

"Oh, my dad's up there and I can only take so much of him," Meredith said and gently helped Derek sit down on their bed. "Besides, you obviously need me right now."

"I'm okay," Derek said but then adjusted his torso and gasped with pain. "I mean… I… ouch…"

Meredith ran her fingers through her husband's hair and kissed him on the forehead. "Shh… it's okay. What hurts?"

"Um… I think it's mostly just my ribs but my chest doesn't… feel great…"

"You're having chest pains?" Meredith clarified, her own heart rate picking up.

Derek shook his head. "It… it's nothing; I'm sure it's… it's just from… the lung surgery…"

That was not reassuring to Meredith, who had once lost a patient less than one hour after he walked into the emergency room with chest pains. She had brought her stethoscope home from the hospital so grabbed it out of the closest drawer, shoved the eartips in and held the diaphragm to Derek's chest. His heart was beating quickly, but not dangerously.

"Am I gonna live, Dr. Grey?" Derek asked.

"D-Don't joke about dying; it's not funny," Meredith said but removed the stethoscope and hung it around her neck as if she was at work. She pressed her hand to Derek's forehead. "Do you feel nauseous at all?"

"No. I'm fine, Mer… seriously, I'm… I'm not having a heart attack. I'm just exhausted from running after our daughter all day."

Meredith pursed her lips. She was probably overreacting, but after experiencing what she had at the hospital, she was not going to ignore chest pains. "You have to tell me if it gets worse, even by a millimeter. Promise?"

"I promise," Derek said.

"And I need you to keep this promise, unlike the one that you made earlier when you said you would give me updates on your day."

"Mer, I… I didn't have time to call you. I'm sorry. I would have if something happened but it took me twice as long to do anything because half of me is completely useless."

"Don't say that; it's not true," Meredith urged. "Now, lay back. I'll get you one of your pain pills. You haven't taken one in the last four hours, have you?"

"I… I don't remember but I don't think so. I don't think I've had time to do that," Derek said.

Meredith was not sure if she was supposed to laugh. Either way, she could not force herself to do so… she turned away from Derek so that he could not see her face as she retrieved one of his Hydrocodone capsules and a glass of water from the bathroom.

"Okay, here you go," Meredith said a few seconds later and handed the goods to Derek who was sitting up in bed, the blankets covering him waist-down. "Did you eat today?"

"Yes, I made Zola some macaroni and cheese for dinner and I ate some of that," Derek said; he swallowed his pill obediently. "What about you; did you eat?"

"Yeah, Mark was there and he sent Callie to the cafeteria to buy us all dinner," Meredith said, fibbing again. "I can get you something else if you want; the mac and cheese probably didn't fill you up…"

"I'm fine, Meredith," Derek insisted. "Come on, I just want to see you. Get over here."

There was no way around it; Meredith would simply have to resist her emotions. She changed out of her uncomfortable outfit from the day and into a soft pair of dark purple pajamas… purple for Lexie…

Meredith had just climbed into bed next to her husband and rested her head on Derek's shoulder when the latter spoke: "So tell me about your day… how was Lexie?"

"Oh, um… Lexie was okay. She was in pain, understandably but…"

"How's her neurological function? Does she remember everything that happened?"

"Er…" Meredith paused. Her throat had closed up completely. There was no way she was going to be able to talk without crying.

"Meredith?" Derek prompted and rubbed her arm, softly. "What happened?"

And all at once, Meredith's guard came tumbling down. There was no way she was going to be able to hide this from Derek. Even waiting a week was not an option; Derek would hear it from Mark by tomorrow. Releasing her husband's hand, Meredith covered her face and let the tears come.

"Meredith?" Derek repeated. "Are you crying?"

"N-N-No!" Meredith shouted but there was no hiding it. Her body was racking with sobs and she doubled over on the bed, hyperventilating.

"Oh, God," she heard Derek say and then his arms were around her. "Meredith… Mer, talk to me…"

She shook her head, wildly. "I… I can't, I can't…"

"You can't… talk to me?" Derek asked but Meredith did not say anything so his healthy hand just continued rubbing his wife's back. "Shh… it's okay. I'm right here. I'm right here, Mer…"

Finally, Meredith leaned her head back up yet kept her eyes closed; she did not want to see Derek's reaction to her face which had to be a mess, covered with tears and snot. "It's… it's L-Lexie…"

"What happened to Lexie? Is it her memory?"

"N-No, it's not her m-memory because… because Lexie didn't w-wake up! She… she's p-probably not going… to wake-up… she… she had a stroke…"

There was a long pause as Derek digested this piece of news. "What…?"

"LEXIE HAD A STROKE!" Meredith screeched and swatted her husband away. "They were… waking her up and… and her BP spiked. She had… a seizure… it was p-probably a… post-operative…"

Derek's face had gone completely white. "Oh, God… was it ischemic?"

"N-No… it was… an intracerebral hemorrhage."

"Dammit," Derek said. "Was it caught in time to operate? Where was the bleed located?"

"Um… left temporal lobe, I think… I don't know the details but yeah, Nelson… he did an endoscopic evacuation. It… it went perfectly but… but there's… m-minimal brain activity… she's… braindead…"

"Hold on," Derek said and put his hand on Meredith's face. "She's braindead? Or there's minimal activity? There's a difference and you know it."

Meredith shrugged and wiped at her nose. "It's… it's like Alison Clark, I think… we w-were able to catch it but… the EEG… it was…"

"It's an entirely different scenario. I will never forget the Alison Clark case. She had a massive stroke and we didn't catch it for an hour. Lexie's was small and you caught it right away. She stands a better chance than Alison Clark ever did. And Little Grey is a fighter; we know that. She's made it this far."

"That doesn't m-mean anything," Meredith said. "Stop trying to make me feel better. Big or small, the end result is the same… Alison and Lexie both ended up with minimal brain activity…"

"Minimal, not braindead," Derek said. "I'm the neurosurgeon. I know what I'm talking about… if you want, I'll go in tomorrow and examine Lexie myself."

"You haven't been cleared to p-practice medicine," Meredith cried.

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm not going to operate or even take her vitals by myself… just let me visit her, as her big brother."

Meredith shook her head. It was not that she was rejecting Derek's request, but she was just empty. She was tired of everything, including having hope. "I… I can't… I don't…"

"Okay, we… we don't have to talk about it anymore right now. Right now, let's just keep you distracted, okay?"

"D-Distracted? You really think you're going to be able to distract m-me from the fact that… my sister is dying?!"

Derek appeared to consider this; he looked around the bedroom. "Look, um… can you get up? Bring me my laptop. It should be on the desk in the study."

"Why?"

"I'll explain when you get back. Please, go get my laptop," Derek begged so reluctantly, Meredith did as she was told.

When she returned, Derek took the computer, turned it on, and opened his professional email account.

Meredith raised her eyebrows. "This is the distraction? Your work emails?"

"Yes, I have a very important email to write and you're going to help me because it's hard for me to type. Do you think you can do that?"

In Meredith's opinion, it was not one of Derek's most genius ideas but he was trying so she went along with it. "I… yeah, I guess so."

"Good, you can take this," Derek said and passed the laptop over to Meredith. "The recipient is already entered so I just need you to type exactly what I say. Tell me when you're ready."

"I'm ready," Meredith said.

"Okay, here we go," Derek said and cleared his throat. "Dear Dr. David Norwillo… Hello, this is Dr. Derek Shepherd of Seattle Grace Mercy West. I am sorry that my communication with you has been inconsistent but as I am sure you have heard, my wife and I were recently involved in a serious accident and we have had a lot of important decisions to make, related to our health and our lives."

Derek paused as Meredith typed and then he looked at her. "Have you got that?"

"Yep… keep going."

"Unfortunately, in this accident, two of the metacarpal joints in my left hand were crushed. I am in the process of undergoing several surgeries to restore use of my hand but there is no guarantee that I will ever operate again. My wife, Dr. Meredith Grey was also injured in the plane crash and both of us have several friends and family members currently in distress. For these reasons, we have decided that at this time, it is not right for either of us to move across the country to Boston…"

"Hold on!" Meredith interrupted. "Hold on, what are you doing?! What are we doing?!"

"You are writing an email for me and you're not done. Continue please, Meredith."

Meredith's mouth was hanging open with surprise but she positioned her fingers back on the keyboard and Derek resumed his speech: "I am aware that I had already accepted the position of Chief of Neurosurgery and words cannot express my regret at having to go back on my word. Please understand that I have the utmost respect for Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and you as a surgeon. If it works out in the future, I would be honored to work alongside you again, but at this time, my wife and I have agreed that our first priority must be ourselves and our health.

"Thank you so much for everything you have done for my wife and I in these past few months. Trust me when I say that this was an extremely difficult decision to make, and I wish you nothing but the best in your future endeavors. Please feel free to reach out if you have any questions or need anything. Again, I apologize for the late notice. Sincerely, Dr. Derek Shepherd."

Meredith finished typing and set Derek's laptop down in front of them on the bed, but did not send the email. "Why the hell are you doing this?"

"Because… like I said, this doesn't seem like the right time," Derek said.

"You've been begging me to go to Boston for weeks. Dr. Schacter is going to fix your hand!"

"I know he is," Derek agreed. "And when he does, then I can go back to being the Chief of Neurosurgery at Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital."

Meredith shook her head. "No… no, we need to think about this and… and fight about this some more. You're supposed to tell me that Brigham is the best general surgery program in the country and that I'm supposed to go there because staying in Seattle won't bring Lexie back."

"Are you saying that you want to move to Boston now?"

"No, I… I'm not saying that but I want you to be happy, too, and I don't want you giving up on your dreams for me. I mean… maybe this can just get postponed…"

Derek smiled sadly. "Meredith… I have you and Zola. I'll be happy. We can move into the Dream House that I built for us. I doubt Mark will want to buy it now anyway."

Why? Because he won't have anyone to share it with? He broke-up with Julia and now Lexie is going to die, Meredith thought internally. She pursed her lips and stared at her husband with big, soppy eyes.

"Send the email, Meredith," Derek said.

Meredith picked up the laptop and scanned over the paragraphs she had written once. If she did as Derek asked, she would also have to get on her own personal computer and email Dr. Margaret Goodwin at Brigham. That would be an awkward conversation, considering how many times Meredith had rescheduled her interview there.

She took a deep breath and then glanced at Derek and handed the laptop back over to him. "You send the email. I don't want to give you any ammunition to use against me in the future… you know, that I was technically the one that sent the email and rejected your offer from Harvard."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Derek said but he took the computer and after proof-reading the email himself, clicked the send button.

Meredith looked at him. "We probably should have talked to Owen first… made sure that he was willing to hire us back here."

"I don't think you're going to have any trouble with that. He's been desperate for even one fifth-year resident to stay in Seattle," Derek said. "And I might get off easy. If Dr. Schacter doesn't fix my hand, then I'll just be a full-time, stay-at-home dad."

"You couldn't do that. You're still a doctor. You could be a neurologist or a lecturer and besides, Schacter is going to fix your hand."

Derek pressed a quick smile onto his face; it looked fake. "I know… I know he is… now, let's try to just sleep on that. Are you feeling any better?"

"I feel… distracted, at least," Meredith said. "There's another option if your surgical career doesn't work out. You could be a shrink. God knows I could use one in the family."

"Mentioning shrinks, I'm supposed to go in for my first therapy appointment tomorrow and go over the surgical plan with Schacter," Derek said. "How are your sessions with Wyatt going?"

Meredith had still only seen her psychiatrist the one time. She had a second appointment scheduled, but blew it off, and as much as she wanted to blow off another one, Meredith knew that was not smart. If she continued to no-show, Wyatt was bound to reach out to Meredith's emergency contact, who just so happened to be Derek and he had enough to worry about… plus, without being cleared by Wyatt, Meredith would never be allowed to operate again.

"They're okay but I had to cancel one so I'll probably see if she has any openings tomorrow, too," Meredith said. "And maybe while we're up in psych, we can visit Cristina."

"What happened to Cristina?"

"Um… she was committed to psych today," Meredith said and stared down at the comforter like a coward.

Still, she could see Derek's shocked expression out of the corner of her eye. "She… what?"

"She hasn't made any progress since we were rescued and then today, she threw a vase of flowers at a window and broke the glass. Owen didn't have an option, apparently and… yeah…"

Derek slipped his arm around Meredith's shoulders. "Damn… I'm sorry, Mer. Yeah, we'll go visit Cristina tomorrow, too. Maybe she'll be better. Maybe they have something, some kind of medicine that can help her."

"Yeah… maybe," Meredith said.

"Okay so… until then… sleep?" Derek assumed; according to his eyes, he was fighting to stay awake. "My chest is feeling better. You distracted me, too."

Meredith smiled. She wanted to make some kind of witty remark about how she wished they could have hot sex, but that would be a lie. For once, Meredith did not feel like doing anything like that with Derek. She could barely function and sex would be too much work.

Slowly, she slid down on the mattress next to her husband and curled up against him. She was not going to take any Trazodone tonight. If she did, Meredith knew that she would fall asleep and if she fell asleep, then Meredith knew she would have unrelenting nightmares about her sister's corpse. That would not support Operation: I'm-Mentally-Healthy.

Well the good news is, Meredith and Derek (and Zola) are officially not moving to Boston! But the bad news is… well, that's pretty obvious. PLEASE don't forget to favorite/follow and review because that all means so much to me! And please always remember that as much as it may seem like it, I am not Shonda or Krista. I promise things will get better. Love you guys so much and thank you for sticking with me. Xoxo, merderpedia :)