The hallways are silent. Most of the other surgical staff has gone downstairs to be on standby out of harm's way. Meredith's told them that she'll page them when Burke needs their help, but she knows that by the time they get up there, there won't be too much left to do. Burke doesn't have time to wait for everyone to get to the OR. He needs people to be there right away, or that guy's going to bleed out on the table. Besides, Meredith isn't afraid to wait up here. It's easier to wait in the quiet because there's nobody else's panic to contend with her own; feeling safe won't happen anywhere. It doesn't matter where she waits, that feeling isn't going to go away.

The elevator doors open and Meredith looks up hopefully, expecting the bomb squad or maybe Derek coming to keep her company though that's highly unlikely: he's probably got patients, or maybe he's with Addison; if it's his last day on Earth, he must be spending it with her. Instead it's Cristina who comes tumbling out, her face full of concern and excitement. "Where's Burke?" She sounds so desperate, and Meredith can understand why: she would feel the same if it were Derek in that OR; part of her feels that way even now, except it's not him that's in danger of being blown up, it's her. "Shepherd said you would be up here and that I could assist Burke with the surgery, and there's a Code Black, and someone said something about a bomb?" Meredith has never heard Cristina talk so much ever. It's nice to have someone to wait with though; Cristina, surgical junkie and girlfriend of Burke, is hardly going to pass up on a surgery like this.

"The crater in that guy's chest was a GSW. He got shot with a homemade replica of some anti-aircraft rifle or something and the ammunition—also homemade—never exploded. And that paramedic with her hand in his chest? She's holding the bomb in place."

"No way." Cristina slides down the wall beside Meredith. "And if Burke—"

"Alex got there just in time," Meredith replies hastily, not wanting to consider the alternative. "You know, if we all survive this, you're going to owe Alex big time." Cristina groans and runs a hand through her wildly curly hair. "Don't remind me. Hey, did you say that thing he shot himself with was homemade?"

Meredith nods. "Yeah and apparently that's his 'hobby'. He and his buddy put on uniforms and fire things that they built themselves—with ammunition they built themselves—in the backyard. Crazy, huh?"

"Stupid is what it is. Seriously." Cristina shakes her head. "Well, at least we get a cool surgery."

"Yeah, if we don't get blown to pieces." That feeling is starting to get to her.

"Do you really think we'll die?" Cristina's voice is quiet and almost vulnerable.
Meredith sighs. "I wish I knew, Cristina. Believe me, I wish I knew."

There's a moment of silence before Cristina finally shakes her head. "Damn. You got a bomb in a body cavity and all I got was Bailey's husband's brains." So much for being vulnerable.

"How is he doing? Derek didn't say much."

"You saw Shepherd?" Cristina watches Meredith intently, like she's afraid that Meredith is going to have some kind of breakdown or something. She wonders how to answer this question while appearing to remain totally impartial, when Cristina continues: "He had a lot of bleeding in his brain and stuff; Shepherd thought he was going to die, and he almost did, but then he was okay…"

"Bailey's husband almost died?" Meredith can't believe that Bailey's husband is even here in the first place. As a surgeon, you feel bad when a patient dies, but you get over it quickly. Their deaths are unfortunate, but there's always a chance of that happening. It's just another patient. You can't save everybody. You never think it's going to be someone you know because you're untouchable. You save lives; so it's like everyone you love is immune to accident, injury, and disease. You never think it's going to be you in the waiting room, counting the seconds until the surgeons come and see you, hoping, praying that everything will be fine, until it is.

"Yeah." Cristina chuckles. "It was amazing. Scary as hell at the time, but now that it's over…it was amazing. His heart stopped beating and we tried compressions, but they were absolutely useless, and Shepherd got so frustrated that he just pounded his fist against the guy's chest, because he was pissed at the guy for dying, and then suddenly, there's a heartbeat."

"Wow." There really isn't anything else to say. If Bailey's husband had died…Well it would have been catastrophic. Especially since she's in labour right now. But he's fine. And the bomb squad is going to come and Burke is going to save the patient and nobody's going to die. Everything is going to be fine.

This could be our last day on Earth, Meredith muses to herself. The thought seems absurd, but it's true and it makes her start to think about if it actually is her last day on Earth, and if it really is, then why is she sitting here doing nothing? "If this was you last day on Earth, how would you spend it?" she wonders aloud.

Cristina pauses to consider the question. "No judgement?"

"No judgement." Knowing Cristina, it's obviously going to be something that most people would consider to be weird and unnatural; most people won't understand why Cristina would want to spend her last day on Earth the way she does, but Meredith gets it. She gets Cristina.

"In surgery." Cristina states this as if there is no other plausible answer, as if everyone should spend their last day on Earth this way. "I'd get all the really good surgeries, and I'd do them solo. Think of it: twenty-four hours of uninterrupted surgery."

Meredith smiles. "Wouldn't you get awfully tired? And what would Burke say?"

"Well I'd take breaks to have wild sex with Burke, of course." Cristina appears shocked that Meredith hasn't assumed this.

"Surgery and sex." Meredith considers. Not bad for a last day on Earth.

"It's the only way to go. Hey, what about you? Are you on board for sex and surgeries, or am I going to have to do everything solo?"

Meredith sighs and fiddles with her gloves. If she was going to die today—and she very well might—how did she want to spend her last day? With Derek, obviously, but his being married makes that impossible. Then again, Cristina isn't having mad sex and performing wild and extravagant surgeries, is she? No one seems to think they're going to die today, except her. And Derek being married doesn't matter, because Cristina is asking how she would spend her last day on Earth if she knew it was her last day. She doesn't know if today is her last day. "I'd spend it with my people."

Cristina raises her eyebrows. Sentimental Meredith is an uncommon occurrence. "You wouldn't want to spend it with McDreamy? And besides, I thought I was your person."

"You are. And I didn't say that I didn't want to spend it with Derek, I just wouldn't spend the whole day with just him. I'd want him to be there the whole time, but I'd spend time with other people too. And do some surgeries. Cool, solo surgeries. And Addison would be gone somewhere far away. Better yet, she wouldn't even exist."

"Yeah, well you're not the only one who wishes she'd disappear," Cristina mutters.

Meredith wants to ask what exactly that means when the elevator doors open, revealing many official-looking men in all black. The bomb squad has finally arrived. Meredith and Cristina both scramble to their feet, not wanting to miss out on any of the action. The guy at the head of the pack, a very tough looking guy with dark hair, who is obviously in charge says, "Are you the surgical team?" Meredith knows right away that she doesn't like him. His tone is too aggressive, too arrogant. He's an ass. She can tell.

"Yes." He's striding off down the hall, obviously expecting them to follow. Who does he think he is? "Dylan Young, bomb squad. The floor's been evacuated?"

"With the exception of Dr Burke's OR, yes." Meredith glances at Cristina and raises her eyebrows. Cristina nods slightly. They are obviously on the same page.

"Good. Make sure all the rooms have been evacuated." This is directed at the rest of his team, with the exception of one man, who hovers in the background like a dog waiting for a bone. Meredith can't believe it. They'd told him the rooms were evacuated, and he has them checked anyways. Ass. "You want to take me to see Dr Burke?" The way he says it makes it seem as though the question is just a courtesy. There is no real choice here; Dylan Young has made it very clear that Meredith I to take him to see Burke no matter what happens. Why ask me? she wants to ask him. We all know you're an asshole. Hell, you probably even know you're an asshole. So what's the point in pretending to be all nice and polite? You'd be less of an ass if you just acted like one. This whole pretence of niceness make everyone hate you even more. But instead of saying anything to him, she just nods and says, "He's in OR3."

Nobody says anything for a while. The hallways echo with the sound of their footfalls. There are a million things Meredith wants to say to Cristina, but the silence is so stifling that she remains silent. After a few moments, Dylan Young breaks the silence.

"Who are you?"

"I beg you're pardon?" Meredith is hoping she misheard. Did that guy seriously just ask her who she is? Is this a nice kind of want-to-get-to-know-you question or a bitchy who-the-hell-do-you-think-you-are question? She wonders for a nanosecond if he's flirting with her, and dismisses it almost as quickly. Flirting with her? Really? Why would he be flirting with her? He's probably married with kids. Even though he's an asshole, he strikes her as the married-with-kids type of guy. And even if he were flirting with her, why would she care? She loves Derek. Who happens to be married and didn't pick her, but oh well. Love is love. It wasn't like she asked for it. He was supposed to be just another one-night stand. Have great sex and then never see him again. He wasn't supposed to be her boss, or her boyfriend, and definitely not the love of her life. But he is, so why should she care whether or not Dylan Young, asshole, is flirting with her? She doesn't even like him. She hates this guy—who she's known for all of like five minutes—with a passion.

"You a surgeon or something?" Young scrutinizes her face.

Are you a surgeon? Who does this guy think he is? Does he think she's not qualified? Is he afraid she's going to accidentally set off the bomb or something? Asshole.

"Well? Who are you?" His tone is way too aggressive. Definitely not interested. "I'm Dr Grey," Meredith replies curtly. "I'm a surgical intern."

"And you are?" His gaze slides over to Cristina. It's obvious he thinks she shouldn't be here.

"Dr Yang, surgical intern." The contempt in Cristina's voice is obvious. She hates him, too. Young raises his eyebrows. "Two interns?" Cristina's glare could probably freeze Hell over. "Dr Shepherd told me that I could assist Dr Burke with the procedure."

"This is a bomb we're dealing with, Dr Yang, not some cool surgery," he says with an obvious air of superiority that makes Meredith want to slap him. She can see that Cristina wants to slap him too, or worse. "What are you saying?" the challenge in her voice is undeniable.

"I'm saying that I don't think you're treating this very seriously."

"You think I'm not treating this seriously?" This guy has serious balls, Meredith says to herself. Cristina is seriously pissed. "This is one of the most serious procedures that Seattle Grace will probably ever see. It's complicated and highly risky. I'm the best intern in the program and Dr Burke is going to need all the help he can get, so Dr Shepherd has reassigned me to his service. No offense," she adds quietly, looking at Meredith.

"None taken." Meredith can barely keep the smile off her face. The asshole is getting a taste of his own medicine.

Young gives Cristina a look that says he thinks she should probably go wait by the elevator, but says nothing, maybe because of the tongue-lashing he just received, but more likely because the door to OR3 looms large in front of them. "Burke's in there," Meredith says curtly.

Young nods. "Stay out here." Without another word, he heads in.

"Stay here?" Cristina splutters. "Who does he think he is?"

"An ass," Meredith replies. "I hate him."

"Stay here." Cristina shakes her head in disbelief. "And he thinks that I'm just in this for the surgery."

"Well, admit it, you are," Meredith can't help but tease, despite all the tension.

"Well, yes, but I wasn't about to tell him that, was I?" Cristina slides down the wall by the door. With a sigh, Meredith joins her, because, regardless of whether or not they hate Dylan Young the Asshole, there isn't anything else to do but wait.

The hospital is in a state of silent panic. No one wants to admit that this could be it, that today could be their last day, but everyone is thinking it. They all work in silence, pretending everything is okay, trying not to alarm the patients. Derek sits by Tucker Jones' bed, because there's nowhere else for him to go. He has no other patients, and there are no new ones coming in. He has nobody to spend this day with either; Burke is upstairs with the bomb squad, Addison is delivering Bailey's baby, Mark is—well, Mark is out of the picture—and Meredith is upstairs, waiting with Cristina to help Burke with the surgery. So all he can do is sit here and wait. Wait for Tucker to wake up, wait for Meredith to come down, wait for Addison to be done.

It's quiet in here. Too quiet. Normally, Derek likes these moments of peace and quiet, since it's so rare that he has a moment to himself, but today is not a day where he wants to be alone with his thoughts, because all he can think about is Meredith, and how she could die today and never know how he feels. Things are never going to work with him and Addison. He knows this. He's known it for a while. He can't love her. Not the way he loves Meredith. If she survives, he tells himself, if we survive this I'll tell her. I'll end it with Addison. He half-heartedly wishes his pager will go off or something, so that he'd at least have something to do. Because sitting here is killing him.

"Derek?"

Addison is silhouetted in the doorway. She looks calm, but Derek knows her well enough to be able to pick up the slight indications that indicate she's barely holding it together: like the fact that her face is pale and tight, or that her hair, which is normally so immaculately groomed, falls loose around her face. Even in her distress, though she still manages to look beautiful, and he feels a stab of guilt for not being able to love her enough.

She crosses the room and sits in the empty chair beside him. "How's he doing?"

"He'll be fine when he wakes up."

Addison relaxes slightly. "Good."

"How's Bailey?"

There's a long silence. Derek studies her. Her face is still and impassive; she's considering the best way to answer this, which tells him that something's wrong. "She's refusing to give birth without her husband." There's a slightly accusing tone to her voice, as if this is all somehow his fault.

He knows enough about babies to know that this is not a good thing, but that doesn't make any of this his fault. "Even if he does wake up soon, Tucker's in no fit state to be with Bailey when she gives birth. She's going to have to do it without him." He can't help but let a slightly defensive note creep into his voice.

Addison shakes her head. "It's not so simple, Derek. This is a big deal for her and she wants her husband to be there for her. She's scared and she needs him."

"Well I can't magically make him better, Addison," Derek snaps. Addison flinches at his harsh tone. "I know it's hard, but Tucker's not going to be there. Bailey's strong. She'll get through this. She has you," he adds softly; he feels bad for snapping at her, but it's not like she didn't provoke him.

Addison sighs. "I know. I shouldn't have insinuated that it was your fault; you saved his life. It's just with the Code Black and everything…" She runs a hand through her hair, combing it out of her face in agitation.

"I know." Derek can feel the worry clench in the pit of his stomach, as he thinks about Meredith upstairs with that bomb, which could go off at any second. And now it's not only Meredith that he worries about. Bailey could kill herself and her baby.

"I'm going to have to take her to surgery in a few hours if she doesn't cooperate," Addison says quietly, as if reading his mind.

"Can you? Richard's closed off all the ORs."

"It's Bailey, Derek. I'll make an OR if I have to."

He nods. The chief will do anything to help Bailey. And Addison isn't going to let either of them die. "I should probably get back." She gets up quietly, but looks uncertainly at him, as if she expects him to ask her to stay. "You go," he says instead. "I'll let you know if there's any change." Her face falls slightly, but she nods and heads out.

Derek puts his head in his hands. There's nothing left to do now but wait.

Meredith is back at the elevators again The bomb squad came out pretty quickly after they went in; they need X-Rays to see how big the thing is so that they can figure out how best to proceed to get it out without blowing everyone up. Burke told her and Cristina to wait, and then went off with to get the X-Rays. That was easily half an hour ago. They've got to have the X-Rays done by now.

"Do you think they're done?" Cristina is the first one to have said anything since Young kicked them out.

"They must be." All this waiting is getting tiring. Meredith gets up; her legs cramping up from all this sitting. She's tired of sitting and waiting helplessly. She's a surgeon for God's sake.

"Where are you going?"

She turns, startled. She's been walking down the hallway, without even being aware of it. "I don't know. I need to stretch my legs."

"Good idea. We can check in with Burke on the way."

The OR wing seems eerily quiet. In all the time Meredith has been here, she's never seen it completely dead like it is now. It's unnerving.

"Is her hand shaking?"

She freezes. Cristina is peering into OR3. Meredith looks too; Hannah is all alone, her hand still in Carlson's chest, but with her other hand—which is trembling—she is ventilating.

"Oh my God," Cristina whispers. "It is!"

"Where's Milton?" The anesthesiologist should be here. Hannah shouldn't be in there by herself, much less ventilating. Having her hand in that guy's chest is stressful enough.

Cristina shakes her head and pushes the door open.

"Hannah? Are you okay?" Where's Dr Milton?" Meredith and Cristina crowd into the doorway, neither of them wanting to get too close. Hannah looks like she's trying very hard not to cry. Cristina's right, her hand is shaking, and despite the brave face she's putting on, Meredith knows she's terrified. Her hand is in some guy's chest, touching a homemade bomb that could go off at any second. Just the fact that she isn't panicking proves what an excellent paramedic she is going to make.

"He left." Hannah's voice trembles. "He didn't want to die, so he left" Selfish bastard. His life is important, but the patient's life is even more important. And he should know better than to leave someone like Hannah alone in a situation like this.

"You're okay, Hannah. You're not going to die. No one's going to die. Dr Burke is going to get that thing out and it's going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine," Meredith says, keeping her voice steady. It's easier for Hannah to believe her if she acts like she's perfectly calm.

"You're doing great, Hannah," Cristina adds. "The bomb squad is here; they know what to do. This thing is going to be out before you even know it." Hannah still looks uncertain. Meredith can see that they are losing her to the panic; she needs to try a different tactic.

"Your hand is keeping Mr Carlson alive," she continues. "You're saving his life. His wife is going to want to thank you personally when all this is done."

There's a moment of silence before Hannah takes a deep breath. "Right. I'm saving his life," she echoes, but somehow, she doesn't seem convinced. Meredith can see the fear in her eyes mixing with the uncertainty.

"Everything is going to be fine," Cristina moves closer to Hannah and gently slides her hand under Hannah's and begins to ventilate for her. "The bomb squad is figuring out how to get this thing out."

Nobody says anything for a minute, and Meredith breathes a sigh of relief. The crisis has momentarily been averted. Everything's going to be okay. She turns to Cristina, about to tell her that she's going to go and find Burke and tell him that they better hurry the hell up before thing's get even worse.

"No." The word comes out very quietly.

"What?" Both she and Cristina look at each other, unsure of what just happened. Slowly, she turns to look at Hannah, and can see that her eyes are squeezed shut. Meredith feels like she should say something, anything, but she can't bring herself to form the words. It's like her mind has gone blank. She knows what's going to happen now.

"No," Hannah repeats. "I'm too young to die. I'm not ready."

Meredith pushes down the panic welling in her chest. She has to do something. It may not do anything to help the situation, but she has to try. She promised Derek she would be okay; she has to try her damndest to keep that promise. "You're not going to die, Hannah."

"Don't worry, everything's going to be fine," Cristina says at the same time. Their voices rise, like an orchestra; suddenly they're all speaking at the same time: Meredith, Cristina, and Hannah. Meredith can feel the tension rising; it's stifling. "You need to go get Burke," she whispers to Cristina.

Cristina glances at her questioningly. She doesn't want to leave Meredith alone with Hannah, not when she's like this, and Meredith knows this. They're each other's people, they're supposed to look out for each other, but both of them are way out of their depth here and if someone doesn't go and get Burke soon, they won't need to look out for each other anymore. She nods slightly, as so not to alert Hannah. "I'll be fine. Go."

"No. It really needs to come out," Hannah is saying as Cristina slips out.

"Hannah." Meredith's voice is very quiet. She's moved to take Cristina's place, ventilating. "Hannah. I need you to listen to me." She stares at the young paramedic, needing her to look, to hang in there for another few minutes, just until Cristina comes back with Burke, but Hannah's eyes remain squeezed shut. "Hannah. Look at me. Look at me, Hannah!" she snaps. Hannah opens her eyes, startled. They are wide and terrified. "I know it's scary. I know Dr Milton probably said all these horrible things about bombs and dying, and he shouldn't have, but he was scared. We all are. And it's so much easier just to take your hand out and run away, Hannah. I know it is, because I'm thinking it too. But doing that won't make it easier. Your chances of dying are so much higher if you pull your hand out and run, Hannah; chances are you wouldn't even make it to the door. But if you keep it in there, if you hang on, there's a very good chance that you won't die, that you'll be okay. Dr Burke and the bomb squad are on their way, they're going to take that thing out and they're going to fix Mr Carlson. They know what they're doing, Hannah. You just need to hang in there a little bit longer."

"No!" Hannah's voice is rising; she's practically hysterical. "No, it needs to come out, it really needs to come out." She's chanting like it's some kind of mantra, eyes squeezed shut again, and Meredith knows she's going to get nowhere. She's not good at this stuff. Derek is, or Burke, but they're not here. And unless they get here now, Hannah's going to pull her hand out, and they'll probably all be dead.

Cristina where are you?

And in that moment of panic and desperation, her mind clears, the way it always is in a crisis. She's not frozen, she's not panicking, she's not praying for Cristina to come back anymore. She knows what she needs to do.