Chapter Eight
They had stayed up much later than they should have, beside each other in Meredith's bed, with the bathroom door closed. Derek was having a hard time just looking at the bathtub. They traded stories until the wee hours in the morning when they both dropped off to sleep. Derek was amazed that Meredith hadn't snored . . . not the whole night . . . or at least not loud enough to wake him.
Derek sighed. The morning had fallen back into their old routine. It was so natural, almost as if they never stopped . . . that all the bad choices and the awful things they had said to one another had never happened . . . but he knew better. They drove in together, in his car, and were both surprised to see Mark waiting for them in the lobby. "What's wrong," Derek asked.
"Nothing," Mark said, distractedly.
"You know, staring at the door isn't going to make her get here any faster."
"I know that," Mark snapped. "I just need to talk to her, alright?"
"About what," Derek questioned.
"None of your business," he said. "Grey, do you want to scrub in or are you going to be making goo-goo eyes at Shep all day."
"Me and my world class neurosurgeon have a clinical trail patient today, Dr. Sloan," Meredith said, smiling. "I have to go run the labs." She kissed him quickly and ran off to get on the elevator.
Derek couldn't contain his smile. Mark rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You two are disgusting," he said, not sounding all that agitated. "Emma is supposed to be in around lunch. Do you think you'll have time to join us?"
"Page me," Derek said and walked off, looking for the Chief. He heard around from some of the interns and lower level residents that Dr. Hahn was sometimes hard to get along with. It wasn't that Emma couldn't hold her own against a "bully," but Derek wanted her stay to be pleasant, so she'd visit again.
She and Travers were supposed to arrive in the afternoon. Which gave Derek plenty of time to get started on his new patient. He also had a craniotomy scheduled in an hour. He found Meredith outside the patient's room, waiting for him. "How's everything look," he asked. He noticed she had already changed into her scrubs and had thrown her lab coat on. Her interns, minus George, were standing around looking nervous. "What's wrong?"
"Huh? Nothing," Meredith looked around, following Derek's gaze to her gaggle of interns. "Hey, get to work. Dr. Bailey needs some help in the clinic if you can't find something to do."
"Ohh," Derek whispered, pretending to read the chart over her shoulder, "Bossy Meredith is back. I like bossy."
"I know," she whispered back, closing the chart and handing it to him. "I have to go talk to George real quick, I'll be right back." Derek nodded and called one of the interns over to retrieve the results from the labs.
He was in for a long morning.
Mark Sloan had never been so mad to be called in for an incoming trauma. Yes, he knew it was irrational and a waste of time to wait for Emma in the lobby, but the whole idea made him feel better. He had been having a bad couple of days and Callie Torres was not helping manners by constantly telling him to meet her in an on-call room.
He looked up from where he was operating, doing skin grafts on a patient with third degree burns on his arms. Chief Webber walked in followed by two doctors. Mark glanced at the clock and noticed the time was ten after twelve. The second, shorter doctor (obviously female) wore a custom-made black scrub cap with a white heart and a set of crossbones on each side. He knew it was custom made because he had been there when she ordered it.
"Dr. Riggs," he said, looking back down at the patient, "come assist me."
He heard her scoff. "Dr. Sloan, do I look like an intern," she asked. Mark smiled behind his mask. Even though she was slightly offended by the implication she had put on his statement, she still came off as professional and polite – not an easy task. He glanced back at her. "Dr. Sloan, you do realize that Seattle Grace is a teaching hospital, right? And that my chosen field is Cardiothoracic?"
"Yes."
"Then maybe you should teach one of the many interns or residents in the OR that may actually have some interest in Plastics instead of having me assist you with something you taught me years ago," she suggested, not sounding so professional.
Mark laughed. "Dr. Riggs, come assist me."
He heard her sigh and he was sure that one of the nurses was now helping her gear up for surgery. A moment later, she was standing beside him. "You two might as well continue on, it's unlikely Dr. Sloan will let me out of his clutches now that he has me."
Mark snickered. Emma was always good for a laugh. "Damn straight."
"Oh, well, Shep is doing an operation for one of his Clinical Trial patients," Richard Webber said, "I thought we could head over there."
Emma glanced at Mark and then back at Richard. "Alright, I'm coming," she said. "Dr. Sloan, if you insist, I can assist you later."
"I do insist," Mark said. "I'll even find something interesting for you."
"Sure, like Plastics is interesting," Emma said. "Bye, Mark."
"Bye, Emma. Oh, and tell Shep that you're mine today."
Emma shook her head and followed the two Chiefs of Surgery out of the OR and down the hall.
"Dr. Shepard," Richard greeted, walking into the OR, "Dr. Grey, how is everything going?"
"Fine chief," Dr. Grey said.
"We're just about to inject the virus simultaneously on both sides of the tumor," Derek explained.
"Who's idea was that," Emma spoke up.
"My apologies, may I introduce Doctors Edward Travers and Emma Riggs," Richard interrupted.
"We came up with the idea together, Dr. Riggs," Derek said.
"How very ingenious of you, Dr. Shepard," Emma said. "Dr. Grey, you should be very proud."
"Suck up," Travers muttered, teasingly.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Please, proceed." Derek nodded and turned to Dr. Grey – Meredith – and together they injected the virus into the tumor. Emma smiled to herself. They may be working on a medical break-through but she could see the love in their gazes as they sent the virus to attack the tumor. It was sweet in a creepy, morbid sort of way.
As soon as the virus was injected, things started going downhill fast.
"Time of Death, 13:10."
Derek tore his mask off and walked out of the OR. Emma and Meredith shared a slightly confused look before Emma took off after him.
"Derek," Emma said, following him into his office.
"Don't," Derek said, running his hands through his hair.
"Derek," Emma said, more firmly, "look at me." He did. "What went wrong?"
"The virus attacked the brain instead of the tumor."
"Why," she asked, as if she were a teacher.
"I don't know."
"Find out," she said. "Derek, you were the one to make sure that I understood before my first day as an intern that you can't save everyone and that you learn from your experiences. Yes, it's true, you haven't had success with this clinical trail so far, but you will. You're learning from each patient. They know the chances aren't good to begin with, but it's their best shot."
"Sometimes it feels as if we're just killing them," Derek said, sitting down, "as if there's no real hope and we're just killing them faster."
"Nonsense," Emma said, sitting down beside him. "Now, you have to talk to Meredith and the family and then you and I are going to talk."
"I have a craniotomy scheduled for this afternoon."
"And you're going have to fight Mark for me," Emma said, not missing his implication. "If this trail is getting to you . . ."
"I'll be alright," he said, giving her a small smile. She hugged him, shook her head, and left him alone to collect his thoughts before going to find Meredith and the patient's family.
When he found Meredith, fifteen minutes later, she was talking to the family of their latest patient. ". . . there was nothing else we could have done." He watched as the family accepted the news, still unsure what it all meant in the grand scheme of things, as Meredith turned away, spotting him. "Where's your sister," she asked.
"With Mark, I'm sure," he said. "Travers is pretty good about letting her do what she wants," he smiled. "I would have told them with you," he said, quietly.
Meredith shrugged. "You looked like you could use a breather," she said. "We'll get this, don't worry." Derek sighed. "Are you alright," she asked.
"I just feel like I'm failing you, failing them, but more importantly, failing you."
"Derek," Meredith said, gently, "you aren't failing me. We're close, I can feel it."
Derek's heart swelled at her enthusiasm. She didn't feel like he was failing her. That would get this right; Derek would make sure of it.
Author's Note:
Alright, it's been a while since I updated. Before I go on, though, how about the scene with the candles at the end of "Freedom"? Awesome, right? Right. Anyway, I'm trying to work things from the show in and still make all of this semi-believable. And Emma's in Seattle