"When I was little, the one person I could always count onwasn't my mother, or my father. It was my mom's father, my papa. He was always arguing with my mom that it was impossible for her to raise me when she spends a hundred hours in the OR a week. The thing about my papa was that he visited me whenever he could, and until I was about seven, they were the best days of my short life. He told me once that someday I would love someone with my whole heart, but that love is full of trials and obstacles. It was how we overcame these obstacles that defined who we were."

~*GA*~

Beep.

She was running through the halls of the hospital trying to get to the catwalk. Every second she wasted, the more blood he lost. She was losing him.

BeepBeep.

She ran by a window, and when she looked through it her heart stopped. He was back, on the catwalk once more, pointing a gun at his head. She ran faster.

BeepBeepBeep.

She rounded the corner, just as she heard the gunshot. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, dramatic and intense. Her heart stopped, she felt the blood splatter across her face as she fell to her knees. The man with the gun turned his attention to her, but she didn't care as she dragged herself to her dead husband. She barely felt the bullet pierce her abdomen…

"She's tachycardic!" Someone screamed, pressing the button for a crash cart. Christina Yang sprinted in, immediately taking control of the situation, trying to ignore the fact that her best friend was dying, and no one knew why.

Once the cart came in, she wasted no time grabbing the paddles, thankful that someone had already stripped Meredith's chest.

"Charging,"

"Clear!"

The shock jolted Meredith. She'd been here once before, in worse condition. Christina was determined to keep her alive for her husband, who was stable and due to wake up at any moment.

She looked up at the monitor, then back down. "Charge to two hundred."

"Charging,"

"Clear!"

Her chest jumped once again, and Christina breathed a sigh of relief. "Heart Rate steady, BP's increasing. Okay…" she set the paddles down, then sank into a chair.

"Doctor Yang," a familiar voice came from the doorway, reprimanding but kind as well. "Take a shower, get some sleep. I'll keep an eye on Grey for now, it's been twelve hours since they both came out of surgery, they'll be fine."

Christina turned her head to look at Doctor Bailey, raising an eyebrow. "Does it seem like she'll be fine?"

Bailey walked in, picking up Meredith's chart and scanning it and shaking her head. "She's a trauma patient, it's expected at least once. She's been through a lot, and—" bailey stopped, a look of shock and pity crossing her features. "She had a miscarriage a few hours ago?"

Christina sank lower into her seat. "Yeah, the bullet missed her uterus but not by much. Still…"

"She went through a lot," Bailey agreed, setting the chart down. "Does Shepherd know?"

Christina shook her head, watching the monitor in case Meredith went into tachycardia again. None of them had deserved this, Meredith had finally been happy and despite Christina's jealousy over her happy relationship, she knew she needed to stay bright and shiny Meredith, not return to dark and twisty Meredith. "She was going to tell him this morning, well-" she looked over at the clock, which showed it was nearly one in the morning, "-yesterday morning."

"It's a shame," Bailey said, shaking her head and placing a hand on one of Meredith's. "Get some sleep Yang. I'm going to check up on Shepherd, and when I get back you better be in an on-call room."

~*GA*~

Meredith moaned, moving a hand onto her stomach. It felt more like dragging actually, and her mind felt groggy and slow. She felt bandages under what she knew to be a hospital gown, and she suddenly remembered it all, everything.

"Derek," she moaned, trying to sit up.

"Oh!" someone gasped, and small hands were gently pushing her back down. "Meredith, you have to stay in bed."

Meredith blinked open her eyes. Her vision was a little blurry, but she recognized the fake blonde hair anywhere. "Lexie?" she mumbled, blinking furiously. "Where's Derek? What happened to him?" Suddenly scenarios that did not end well for her husband burst into her mind and she started to panic. She heard the monitor that kept track of her heart rate speed up.

"Shhh, Meredith calm down, Derek's fine." Lexie said, anxiety leaking through her voice as she tried to calm her sister. "Meredith, you'll have a panic attack, deep breaths, come on." She pleaded, and Meredith did her best to slow down. She took deep breaths and closed her eyes, concentrating on the fact that Derek was okay….

"What happened… to Mr. Clarke?" she asked, hating that she even spoke his name, the man who shot her and Derek, who killed their child….

Lexie hesitated, and Meredith opened her eyes to stare her down. She needed to know, she wanted the man brought to justice after everyone who had been hurt because of him.

"He… he managed to get around the police somehow, he's still out there somewhere. But don't worry—" Lexie said quickly, watching the monitor apprehensively, "Its on the news that Derek is, well, dead. He wont be coming back for either of you."

Meredith closed her eyes, they felt so heavy… "I want to… see him," she mumbled, but she was asleep before she could get a reply.

Next time she was awake, she felt better, but heavy, like she'd been sleeping for a very long time. No one was in the room with her, so she tried to sit up, ignoring the stabbing feeling in her abdomen. She reached to the drawer of the night stand and flipped on the tv, the news instantly turning on, the first thing she noticed was that it was Friday morning. Then-

"The search is still on for Gary Clarke, who entered Seattle Grace Mercy West hospital Wednesday morning and took the lives of thirteen innocent people, including the chief of surgery and his wife Meredith Grey—" she turned off the tv, breathing heavy and running a shaking hand through her hair. Her picture had been on the screen, alongside Derek's, claiming the both of them to be dead. Lexie had told her Derek was fine, but she needed to see for herself. She watched the door, which was open, waiting for someone she knew to walk by.

"Doctor Hunt!" She called, two minutes later. The man in question looked up from his clip board and smiled at her.

Owen Hunt walked into her room and glanced at the remote in her hand. "How long have you been awake?" he asked, glancing at her monitor just like everyone else who was in her room.

Meredith shook her head. "Not long. Look, I need to see Derek. They're saying he's dead on the news, please," she begged, trying to sit up all the way.

"He's not dead Grey, it's just a story." Owen assured her, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. "But if you think you can stay awake long enough, I'll ask Christina if she thinks you're up to it."

"Christina?"

"Yeah, she's your attending physician. Teddy took over Derek's case, but Christina did excellent with his aortic repair." Hunt's smile showed a hint of pride, and he reached up to pull off his green scrub cap, then running a hand through his bright orange hair. "I'll page her for you, but I have to get to the OR." He promised, pulling out his pager and with one last smile, he walked out of the room.

After a minute, Meredith got restless. She'd spent a lot of time in recover the past year or two, after drowning, then giving up part of her liver for her father. This was slightly more traumatic in her eyes, since her husband was in a similar room somewhere, instead of at her bedside. She struggled into a sitting position, and reached for her chart that was hanging on the end of the bed.

"Mere!" someone cried, and Christina was there, blocking her way. "What are you doing? You'll tear your stitches." Meredith gave up, silently acknowledging the tugging feeling on her stomach and lying back down.

"Why did Owen page me here?" Christina asked, of course she glanced at the monitor, which was starting to annoy Meredith. Why are they all worried about her? Derek was the one who was shot in the chest.

"I want to go see Derek," Meredith said, but Christina was shaking her head before she was even done. "Why not?" Meredith demanded. "It's been almost two days, I need to see him!"

Christina sighed. "Are you feeling dizzy or lightheaded? Nauseous? Cramps?"

"Cramps?" Meredith asked, knowing that wasn't on the usual list of post- GSW symptoms.

Her best friend put the chart on the end of the bed. "You had a miscarriage about an hour after you came out of surgery. It missed your uterus, so you'll still be able to have perfect haired chatty children, but…."

Meredith took in a deep breath, ignoring the fatigue and dizziness that threatened to drag her back to unconsciousness. "Can I just see him? For a little while?"

Christina watched Meredith for a few minutes, then sighed and left the room momentarily. She came back with a wheelchair that was equipped with an oxygen tank and banana bags. She moved the chair as close to the bed as possible. "come on," she sighed.

It took longer then Meredith believed possible to get into the chair. Everything was sore, but she just had to hold out until she got to Derek's room.

"Where are we by the way?" she asked, really looking at the unfamiliar walls for the first time.

"Seattle pres. Most of our patients were moved here or to the former Mercy West building." Instead of wheeling Meredith into the hallway, she went to a door on the opposite side of the room. Once opened, Meredith heard more beeping of monitors. She looked at Christina questioningly, who rolled her eyes. "An architectural fluke. There wasn't supposed to be a door here, and they usually keep it locked, but Little Grey stepped in when they moved Derek from the ICU yesterday. She thought it was 'romantic,'"

Meredith smiled at her sisters antics, but it disappeared when she finally saw her husband. She acknowledged that it was a good thing that he wasn't intibated, but it was still hard to see him like this. There were three other women in the room, and a small girl around the age of five. She barely noticed them, but knew they were probably Derek's sisters and a niece. One of them said something about coffee, and the four of them left the room.

When she was close enough, Meredith took one of Derek's hands in hers, remembering the last time they had held hands.

Then he moaned.

She watched as all the tiny things that indicated he was waking up happened. His breathing became slightly uneven, a little crease appeared between his eyebrows, making the scar from his motorcycling accident more prominent. She glanced at Christina. "Has he waken up yet?" Christina shook her head.

"Derek?" Meredith whispered, and he moaned again, his eyes fluttering open.

"Mere…" he mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Hey," she said, smiling behind watery eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Are you okay?" he asked instead of answering her.

Meredith nodded, "I'm fine."

"Good." He whispered, his eyes staying closed the next time he blinked. "Love… you."

"I love you too."

"I don't know why my papa thought he needed to give me love advice at the tender age of six. I don't think he knew he was going to get into a fatal car accident. But the thing is, even if I didn't understand him then, I do now. You know the strength of your love based on what you've overcome. Derek and I have overcome so much, it's only made us stronger. We can get through this. We can."