Title: Breathe

Authors: Sara And Lizzie

Rating: T for language, mild sex

Disclaimer: It would be nice to own grey's anatomy, sadly all we own are a lot of high priced shoes and handbags, and both seasons on dvd.

Summary: A month or so after Meredith's near death experience, tragedy strikes Seattle Grace again in the form of a robbery gone wrong. A hostage situation takes place in the OR. Nine lives hang in the balance as they wait to live, die, or just get blown up.

Author's Note: Wow. The last time we updated this? Feels like years ago. This particular little story is giving us trouble. Because we have all these things we want to happen, right? But the execution of them is hard. Because we want it to be in character, believable, etc. So bear with us.

Anyway, we kind of hate this. And we know its super short. Will try to update soon though.

AND REVIEW.

Love is a losing game, one I wish I'd never played.

It was interesting to Burke, this group of interns. Karev had summed them up well; a family. They fought, and they made mistakes and they hurt each other, but in the end, they went through each day knowing that the other four would always be there, no matter what.

He was in awe, and slightly envious. He had his parents, his friends, and he had Cristina, but there was a bond they shared that he didn't have anywhere. A bond that can only be established after you've been through enough together.

He looked down at his hands, the hand he had almost lost. Preston Burke's hands. They saved lives, they made millions. They defined him, or so he thought. "I'll go." He said quietly. He smiled when he felt Cristina tense beside him. "I am a surgeon." He said his tone still hushed. "I believe in medicine with a conviction so strong it scares me. I thought I was defined by my hands. I thought they made me who I was, but who I am is so much more than that." He paused and looked at Cristina.

"You're not like anyone I've ever met. You're certainly not like anyone I imagine I would marry. I imagined marrying someone warm, outwardly friendly and openly compassionate, and you are none of those things." He told her, speaking so everyone could hear, but talking only to her. She was watching him, her eyes bright with an emotion no one could quite put their finger on.

"My world has always been how I pictured it. That was comfortable for me, for my family. But you are my family now. Sometimes, when I'm so frustrated with you that I can't think, I ask myself if this is ever going to work. But I don't allow myself to hope. I'm not hopeful Cristina, I am sure. I am sure that this will work, that this will last. I am sure that I will always love you."

It was silent in the OR. The expression on Cristina's face changed several times until she finally looked back into the eyes of her fiancée. "Okay." She said. "Thank you."

He enjoyed watching the looks of panic set in on all of their faces. He made sure that his face mirrored their own, so as not to draw suspicions, but inside, he was enjoying himself. He reveled in their horror, their obvious dismay, and their guilt.

Kidman and Wilson exchanged a glance. They had been preparing for this throughout their careers, the big moment where one mistake could lead to the fall of a nation. Kidman drew in a breath, summoning all the knowledge she had and all the strength she could muster. She nodded to the Seattle police chief. "Make the call." She said decisively, not allowing any of her fear into her voice.

Wilson turned to the chief. "We're going to call in our team." He said. "We'll try to negotiate with Montcalm for the return of your hostages, but if that doesn't work, we'll have to be more forceful." Richard nodded, trying to remain calm on the outside, despite being anything but on the inside.

Richard turned to Bailey and whispered in her ear. "We need to make contact with that OR. I want to hear from one of my doctors that everyone is okay. Call someone." He told her. Bailey reached into her pocket and dialed Addison.

"Miranda?" she head chime through the airwaves. Bailey looked around the room. The police were interviewing the research team while the national security agents shouted orders into cell phones.

"Addison." She said, relieved. "Are you all okay?"

Addison took a deep breath. "Yeah, we're fine for now. He let us keep our phones. Since, you know, we're stuck. What's going on, Miranda? Be straight with me."

Bailey closed her eyes, trying to compose herself, trying to make sense of all that was happening. "National security is here. The man who took you hostage is a terrorist, and the specimen he's after could be used as a weapon." She said, struggling to keep her voice even. Addison too was trying to stay calm.

"Okay." She said. "Okay. Call me if you know anything new." She said, disconnecting. Bailey looked at the chief and nodded.

"For now, they're all fine." She reported, scraping deep down inside of her for courage, for something that would help her get through this and stay strong for her interns and her friends.

Addison slipped her phone back into the pocket of her scrubs and looked up. "It was Bailey." She told them, even though they knew that already. "Apparently, the guy who forced us here is uh, a terrorist." She said quietly. It was silent as they turned this over in their minds. Meredith felt Derek stiffen a little. Remembering he had been living in New York when the towers came down, she squeezed his hand.

No one spoke until Derek cleared his throat. "If I could say one thing to anyone in this room, I would say that I'm sorry." He said. Addison straightened up a little, allowing herself to think for just one minute that he might be talking to her. "I've done so many things to hurt you." Derek said. "And all I want to do is take them all back.

Derek looked down at Meredith, who was still nestled in his arms, with an adoration that annoyed Addison. "I'm sorry for everything I put you through." He whispered, talking right to her now. I know it was a lot. But you lived. You shouldn't have lived, but you lived. And that's a sign that even though I've screwed this all up, we're going to make it."

Addison's head shot up. "So we get one thing? Fine. I'm angry. I'm still hurt and I'm still angry. You never loved me like you love her." She said, fiddling with the hem of her navy scrub top, not looking at anyone. "You look at her and you see forever, and you never looked at me that way. I'm angry and I want to know why. If you didn't see forever why put me through it Derek?" she asked, her words coming out quickly.

Derek looked down uncomfortably, and Addison pulled her knees back up to her chest and stared ahead of her. And again, no one said a word.

Ten o'clock. Three long hours had passed since she had walked away from the danger of that OR. Four hour left before her husband and her colleagues were blown to pieces. And he hadn't loved her enough to want her with him at the end.

Darkness. It covered the outside, blanketed Seattle with its secrets. Callie had never minded night time, but tonight it choked her. It shrunk the city to an unbearable size and locked her in. She was a prisoner, doomed to never be anything but second best. It was more than she could bear. She heard footsteps in the hallway.

"How are you holding up Torres?" Bailey asked as she sat down next to her. Callie only shrugged. Miranda nodded. "It's a difficult night, and it's only going to get worse. But don't lose hope, Callie." Bailey told her.

Callie stood up and faced her, shaking her head wildly. "I can't." she proclaimed. "I can't. I'm not strong enough Bailey. I can't."

Bailey gave her a stern look. "You can and you will. You will wait here until George O'Malley gets off the elevator, because he will. They all will." Bailey promised with a conviction she didn't truly believe herself.

Callie shook her head. "That's not what I mean. I can't be Callie O'Malley. I can't be second best. It's not enough. I need to get out." Somehow, saying it out loud made it very real, and very tangible. Her freedom was so close all she had to do was take that final step to grasp it.

That's when she found herself walking. One step, then another. "Tell George I'm sorry." She said to Bailey. It was her last sentence, her last conscious thought before she broke into a run. She ran outside the doors of Seattle Grace. In a frantic state, she turned on her car and went to the hotel; loading all of her things into the backseat and trunk of the car.

And then she drove out of the city. As the skyline faded in her rearview mirror, she finally felt free.