A/N: I'm still working on A Fight to Remember... And all my other stories. Am I crazy to entice my readers with another all-encompassing suspenseful fic.? Well, if you're crazy enough to be my fan... then I guess here's another one. Sorry!

Takes place between after the plane crash. Some season nine elements.

Enjoy!

She has a feeling.

The fine hairs on her spine prickle, and Meredith feels tense. First day jitters, she assumes, shrugging. It's her first day back since the plane crash. Her first day as an attending.

It's nothing. It's fine. It'll pass.

"Page..." she checks the chart for the name of the assigned intern. "Wilson. I need those lab results." She says to the clerk.

Her phone buzzes and she's grateful. She slips her hand around it and checks her notifications. A message from Derek. Pasta or steak and potatoes? It reads and she smirks. He's planning dinner apparently.

Pasta and steak? she texts back.

Hmm, comes his reply

Meredith snorts. Lol. As long as there's wine. :)

She puts the phone in her pocket, ignoring his response for the moment. But as soon as she lets it go, the feeling returns. She shakes her head and blows out a sigh. Seriously. If Mr. Steinam's tumor is benign... there's nothing to worry about. And if it's not... it's nothing she can't handle. Why does she feel at this moment that a giant hole is going to open up and swallow her?

"Dr. Grey?" A whiny intern voice calls over her shoulder. Wilson, Meredith assumes without looking. She ignores it, familiarizing herself with her patient's chart. "Dr. Meredith Grey?" The voice calls again. It's sharper, more insistent, and who the hell uses her first name at the hospital anyway?

She turns, ready for a sharp assault on the intern for using her first name, but stops when she sees she's not an intern at all. A young woman in a sharply dressed black pantsuit and pressed white blouse stands in front of her, a simple beige file folder in her hands.

Off-guard, Meredith stammers, "Uh... that's me." Who was this? Someone in need of a consult?

The woman nods, but her stance is firm. Businesslike. She's small, but there's an intensity that's imminently noticeable, especially with the straight, evenly parted dark red hair to match. "Agent Katie Black, FBI. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

xxx

Half an hour later:

Meredith clutches her stomach and swallows hard as she exits the conference room, leaving Agent Black alone. The hallway tilts, and she blinks to right it. Her heart thuds a thousand miles an hour.

She thought she was done with that chapter of her life. She thought it was over. She'd filed it away, under 'Unnecessary Pain'. Under 'Denial'. Under 'Complicated.' Under, 'Do Not Think About'. But that stupid agent, with her stupid file, and those pictures...

Her mouth warms, her stomach clenches.

"Dr. Grey?" She hears but doesn't acknowledge. Where's the bathroom again? She thinks. Meredith stumbles along, swallowing.

"Dr. Grey, It's Wilson. I'm sorry I'm late with the results, I couldn't find you..." Wilson's voice is far away. "Right, you don't want to hear excuses. Um, Mr. Steinam's levels are elevated, and-"

Meredith pushes the door to the bathroom open and shuffles quickly into a stall. Her body quakes and she retches. Three times. The world is a spinning blurry mess, in more ways then one, and she doesn't know what to do. Somehow, though her knees tremble, and her stomach aches like she did a hundred sit-ups, she manages to balance on the toilet seat, head between her knees.

"Dr. Grey?" Wilson's voice echoes in the otherwise empty bathroom. "Are you all right?"

No, she's not. She's really really not. But she'd be damned if she let an intern know that. Her fingertips find the rough feathery two-ply toilet paper and she yanks enough to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. She tosses the used tissue into the sanitary disposal and flushes the toilet. Ignoring the confused and apprehensive gaze of her intern, she strides to the sink and scrubs her hands. A little too long, a little too rough.

Like that one night, so so long ago. Another lifetime ago.

Shaking her head, the unwanted thoughts tumble back into their hidden file.

"Doctor-" Wilson starts.

"-The results?" Meredith barks, holding out her hand. Wilson flinches but gives in, handing her the paperwork. Meredith glances at it, but the numbers bounce on the page from her trembling. She barges past Wilson, takes several deep breaths, and looks at the numbers again.

It's malignant.

"Schedule Mr. Steinam for surgery," she says.

"It's malignant?" Wilson says as if she'd been offered chocolate cake. For me? "Can I scrub in?"

"No," she snarls without intending to. "Page Dr. Bailey."

"Dr. Bailey? Why?"

"JUST DO IT!" Meredith bellows. Around her, people stop and gawk and whisper. Meredith heeds no mind and heads for the attending's lounge. She fumbles for her phone. Escape. She needs to go. Just for a moment. She wants Zola. Zola's not here though, she's with Derek. Grocery shopping or something.

Meredith jumps when the door reverberates with a loud bang. She drops her phone. God, she thought she was over this.

"Grey!" Bailey's voice is strong and authoritative. "What the hell are you doing to those poor interns on their first day?"

"Mr. Steinam's mass is malignant. He needs surgery."

"I thought you were cleared." Bailey says, approaching her with a glimmer of concern.

"I was. I am. I just-" It's not something she can explain to her mentor. Her eyes water, and she wipes them. "I need my daughter."

Meredith expects a lecture. Ready to fight, she crosses her arms and looks away, preparing herself for it...

It never comes.

"I believe I can work him into my schedule for the day..." Dr. Bailey says softly. "You'll let the Chief know?"

The Chief. Right. "Yes," she nods. "Of course."

"Good." Bailey nods but stays rooted a few steps from the doorway.

Meredith wipes her eyes again. Her phone. Where did it go... she sees it on the floor and bends to pick it up. But Bailey beats her to it, and in the process, picks up a card that dropped with the phone.

Agent Black's card.

Meredith sees Bailey's hesitation and swipes the card and her phone from Bailey's hand. "I've got it, thank you." Quickly she turns back to her bag for her street clothes.

"Meredith..." Bailey breathes softly.

But she only shakes her head. Contrary to well founded evidence of Bailey's omniscient powers, she does not know this. She does not get to know... this.