WARNING: May contain season 11 spoilers. Some aspects of this story are based on speculations for episode 11x15.

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Grey's Anatomy characters/places, including Seattle and Washington DC (I have been to DC, though, and it's a lovely place. Never been to Seattle, but I hope to one day).

I should also mention, I've been working on this since before 11x9 aired. I've tweaked and edited it, though, in attempts to keep it somewhat canon as of 11x10 or so.

This story was inspired by Kenny Chesney's, "Don't Blink," and a January 28, 2015, NPR article: Is An Identical Copy You, You? I strongly encourage you check it out, it's very interesting. I'm a huge NPR junkie.

Best start putting first things first.

Cause when your hourglass runs out of sand

You can't flip over and start again

Take every breath God gives you for what it's worth

- Kenny Chesney

"Don't Blink"

PART 1

"What if we could clone our brains? Would you be comfortable dying if you could know that all of your memories and traits could be housed in someone else's brain? There would be an identical copy of you roaming the Earth, long after you have passed."

Dr. Kenneth Hayworth, president and co-founder of the Brain Preservation Foundation, brilliantly explains his new research to Dr. Derek Shepherd and his fellow BRAIN Initiative colleagues, including President Obama, via video conference. Derek's head spins, he's elated and one hundred percent engrossed in what Dr. Hayworth is describing. His ideas truly blow Derek's mind.

In recent months, Derek is unable to count the number of times he's wished he could simply clone himself. If he could clone himself, so much of the conflict in his life would cease to exist. All of his problems - the major ones, at least - would go away.

Cloning has been a hot topic for decades. Large amounts of controversy surrounds the topic, and rightfully so. Even if he could clone his thoughts and memories into another human being, though, he and that person wouldn't be one. Perfect measurements in science do not exist. There's always room for error.

Maybe cloning himself can't solve his family and work issues. Although it's fun to think about, and Dr. Hayworth presents an interesting case.

Derek has been in DC for almost three months. He's barely talked to his his wife and kids during those three months, due to their misaligning schedules. He misses Meredith and the kids every single day.

Meredith is advocating for him to stay in DC, though, and he realizes now that she's only looking out for him. She knows him so well that it scares him. Derek knows he'll never be happy just clipping aneurysms again, and Meredith knows that too. The BRAIN Initiative, on the other hand, is an open book that calls for potential greatness.

The BRAIN Initiative is asking questions he's been asking his entire life, and they're providing him the resources to find the answers. He's never had access to these levels of resources before, and he'll never have them anywhere outside of DC.

He has the opportunity to change the face of medicine, and it's miraculous. Being here in DC is truly a godsend, a dream come true, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying every minute here, diving his hands directly into brain mapping.

He loves his job, and he tries to spend as much as he can on the floor of the NIH, partaking in as much brain mapping as he can, because going home - to the empty hotel room he sleeps in - is absolutely miserable. It's too quiet, sans the kids he hears running in the hallways at all hours of the night, and every now and then he hears a couple in the room next to or above him having sex.

Needless to say, it's lonely. His hotel room is definitely not home. No diapers to change. No Zola sticking toys up her nose. No fancy wine collection. No Amelia or Meredith to fight with. Just hollow, desolate emptiness. It's just a place to sleep, when he can sleep. He doesn't sleep much these days. It's hard to sleep when his wife isn't next to him.

It's not like they sleep together every night, anyway. They've spent almost as many nights apart as they have together since they wrote their vows on that little blue post-it. Meredith was still a resident, so her schedule was sporadic and they were seldom home on the same nights. After they adopted Zola and her residency ended, she cut back on her time in the OR, and their lives fell into a regular beat that allowed them to sleep together on most nights.

And it was too good to be true. The unexpected birth of their son turned their lives upside down. Who knew raising two children could really be so much more difficult than one? It makes Derek wonder how his mother managed raising five children on her own.

He wanted everything for Meredith and his kids. He wants to be there, he wants to be present in their lives, which is why he stepped back in the first place. It's why he refused the job not once, not twice, but three times. When she called him before he got on the plane, he was ready to turn around and come back to her.

But she'd told him to go, that they could do this, and now he's here in DC. All alone.

That's why he has to occupy himself at work, which is the only reason he's in DC in the first place. It's his dream job. He's working for the President of the United States and has the chance to change the face of modern medicine. These people are trying to find the answers to questions he's had forever, really. It's a dream come true that enthralls him with every single breath.

Derek's brain is focused solely on Dr. Hayworth's presentation when one of the president's assistants enters the room and hands him a blue post-it note. Meredith pops in his head long before he reads the black scribbled note.

His jaw hangs wide open when he sees her name in dark blue pen.

"Call Dr. Hunt at GSMH. It's Meredith."

He's quick to excuse himself from the meeting, a million possible scenarios running through his head.

Change is inevitable. It's part of life's natural course. Some changes are erupt, they're thrown at you unexpectedly, whereas some changes are much more sudden. Days pass, and nothing appears to change, but then you look back one day and suddenly everything is different. Gradual changes occur every day.

The changes that are much more noticeable are the ones that happen in an instant. Those changes are the most recognizable and unavoidable.

For weeks, Meredith's life has been centered around work and her children. She goes to work, she comes home and tries to dedicate as much attention to her kids as possible. Each day is a repeat of the last. Derek is in DC. He's a very busy guy, and their relationship has been on the rocks for a while now. They're trying to make it work, though. At least she really wants it to work. This can't be how they end. She doesn't want it to be, and neither does he.

She wants to believe that they can make it, that they're strong enough to get past this, but she doesn't know that for sure.

She doesn't know anything for sure.

Every day is a crisis. Every day something comes up. That's the story of her life. It's been the story of her life for what feels like forever. She can't remember her life being anything besides chaos.

Zola asks when her daddy is coming home every day. She knows how to use Skype on the computer, so she calls him sometimes. Seldom does he answer. Derek is busy. He doesn't have time to spend hours Skyping them. When they do Skype, their conversations are brief, and the kids have grown used to their briefness, but that doesn't make it any easier. Every single time they end a call, Zola bursts into tears.

It's heartbreaking to see her kids missing their daddy. Meredith feels history repeating itself, she sees so much of herself in her kids, what life would have been like if Ellis had kept Maggie. She needs to fight for them.

Zola and Bailey are lucky to be surrounded by family and friends who will fight for them, too. Amelia living with them has only proved to be a godsend. When Meredith's pager called her to the hospital at five a.m. this morning, Amelia happily stepped up, volunteering to finish getting the kids dressed and fed, then take them to daycare.

Her focus is gone. Everything is blurry. Orange and pink splotches, the first signals of sunrise, fill the horizon. Her eyes ache with exhaustion. Sleep is something so foreign to her now. It's hard sleeping alone. She's slept alone plenty of times, but it's different with Derek on the other side of the country. He's gone. Really gone.

Sure, he'll come back some day. At least she hopes he will. She doesn't know when that "some day" will be, and that's enough to keep her up at night worrying. Sometimes she finds herself staring dumbfounded at the blue post-it that hangs above their bed, her eyes almost always focused on the word forever and their scrawny signatures.

Meredith is withdrawn from the road, and that alone is a recipe for disaster. She blinks, lubricating her eyes. By the time she sees the car coming at her, it's too late.

Skid. Screech. Bam. Boom. Crack. Pop.

She's upside down, and sharp noise is piercing her ears. It happens all so fast. One blink, and she's upside down. Literally.

Everything is spinning. Her ears are ringing. Her temples pound. Her head feels like it's about to implode.

Racing heart. Shaky breath. Flashing lights. Everywhere spinning.

When she opens her eyes, her surroundings are a blur. It takes her a moment to realize that she's actually conscious, and this isn't some hallucination or dream. She blinks the scene into focus, until she sees the other car just inches in front of her. They hit her head-on, and now she's trapped inside her airbag. barely able to breathe. Meredith is still in shock, not in tune with what injuries she has sustained and if she's in any pain, though she knows the shock won't last long.

A dark-haired woman is slouched over in the driver's seat, and a terrified small girl is in the backseat. They're both wearing seatbelts at least.

Tears are gushing out of the little girl's eyes. "Mommy," Meredith hears the little girl sob. "Wake up, please! You gotta wake up! I need you!"

Meredith's heart crushes, thinking of her own little girl. She's so grateful that her kids were not in the car with her.

"It's okay," she calls to the little girl, trying to calm her down. "What's your name?"

"Gloria," the little girl replies hoarsely, Meredith can barely see her through the car rubble.

"Hi, Gloria. I'm Meredith. I'm a doctor. Does your mom have a cell phone?" Meredith asks calmly, hoping the answer is yes.

"Yes, it's in her pocket," Gloria replies.

"Good. That's great. Sweetheart, you need to reach into her pocket and take her phone, then dial 9-1-1," Meredith breathes shakily. She's losing a lot of blood. She can't move her neck to see it, but she can feel it. Meredith knows it's only a matter of time before she will lose consciousness. Her head is pounding, and she wouldn't be surprised if she has a concussion.

"I know how to dial 9-1-1. I'm nine," the girl answers raspily.

"That's good," Meredith says, her voice weakening, the picture blurring. She knows she won't be able to hang on much longer. She needs to, though, for Gloria. "Do you have the phone, Gloria?"

Silence, and a beat later, Gloria responds, "Yes. I'm calling 9-1-1."

"Good," the word comes out so faintly before everything turns black.

Derek's breaths hitch when he hears the words: "Meredith has been in a car crash," followed by, "Amelia is operating on her," followed by, "It doesn't look good."

His intestines squeeze together, he feels nausea swarming him, his thoughts loom endlessly, his brain coming up with worst-case possible scenarios.

It took him three phone calls to find out what was happening. He first called Hunt like the post-it note instructed, but received no answer. His nerves in a frenzy, and his gut telling him it must be pretty serious if Owen Hunt was telling him to call, so he decided to call his sister. Amelia would know what's up with Meredith, probably. He wasn't too worried when Amelia didn't answer, though. She dodges his phone calls ninety percent of the time because he's her big brother, so apparently his calls aren't her number one priority. Plus, he has a feeling that she's still angry with him over what happened the week before he left.

It was Alex Karev - Alex Freaking Karev - who answered the call and explained the situation.

His wife has been in a car accident, and he's on the other side of the country, a five hour direct flight from Seattle. The chances he'll find a direct flight to Seattle on such short notice are slim.

He needs to go home. Now. He needs to freaking clone himself, but that's not possible. He can't be here in DC if Meredith is in Seattle fighting for her life.

Meredith Grey is a fighter. His wife is a fighter. She's survived a bomb, a drowning, a shooting, a plane crash, and nearly dying after giving birth to their son. She's a fighter. She can survive anything. Right?

He's standing outside the meeting room shaking. He can't think, all he knows is he needs to get home. Who is with their children? And suddenly he's overwhelmed with guilt of having missed so many of Meredith's and the kids' Skype calls. He really wanted to answer them, but his job is demanding and he was rarely sitting near his devices to answer when they called. He would never intentionally avoid their calls.

Derek tries to calm himself down. Maybe it's not as bad as it sounds. Maybe everything will be all right. Maybe it's just a minor bleed. Even minor bleeds can have major complications.

His sister is operating on his wife. He gulps. Amelia is operating on Meredith. Typically speaking, the hospital would not allow Amelia to operate on Meredith because they're family. The only way...the only way that would be permitted is if it were a dire situation and no one else was available.

A tear lingers in his eye as he attempts to picture his wife lying unconscious on the operating table, his sister's hands in her brain. He can't picture it. It can't be happening. It doesn't make sense. This can't be their reality.

This isn't how we end, Meredith's own words echo in his head. The last time he saw her in person, they yelled at each other. A lot. He deeply regrets yelling at her. She'd pushed him to his breaking point, she definitely knows how to do that.

The image of her lifeless body after she'd drowned is permanently permeating his brain.

Amelia is freaking out. Her hands are in Meredith Grey's brain. Meredith Grey, her sister-in-law, her only brother's wife. She knows she'll never live this down if she kills Meredith or leaves her brain damaged in any way, shape, or form. Derek will murder her. He'll never forgive her. She won't ever forgive herself, either.

Heck, Amelia knows she has no business being in this operating room. There's a reason why family members don't operate on family, and she considers Meredith to be her sister. In fact, she's pretty sure she likes Meredith more than any of her sisters. It's kind of funny how both of her sisters-in-law ended up being so much cooler than her biological sisters. Derek clearly has amazing taste in women.

She's going in blind, because Meredith had coded twice on the way to the hospital, leaving no time to run scans. She needed to get in there now.

"Clamp!" Amelia can see the source of the bleed, it's clear as day, and it's making her heart beat erratically. Then she blinks again as something else comes into the picture. No freaking way.

She to her side, taking a deep breath. She'd specifically requested the OR with no gallery. They didn't need interns and residents gawking at Meredith's brain. Meredith didn't need that, either

"What is it?" he asks, they lock eyes, his radiating blue eyes permeate her soul. His presence isn't helping. Her body pulsates as his eyes search hers for answers.

"It's a tumor," she mouths, allowing her gaze to sink into his. "This is not good."

Nine hours later Derek arrives in Seattle. He caught the first flight to Seattle, which - unfortunately - had a four hour layover in Phoenix. However, it was the fastest route to Seattle, and he simply had no other choice.

He hadn't even gone back in the meeting, nor had he bothered to explain why he was leaving. There wasn't time for that. He'll contact the NIH later and explain, he can only hope they'll understand.

His wife and children need him.

When he gets off the plane and takes his phone out of airplane mode, he's terrified when he sees fifteen missed calls from a various people: Owen, Alex, and Amelia are among most of the calls, Bailey and Webber each called him once. Callie and Maggie had each called him twice. He's admittedly puzzled when he sees Maggie's name, his nerves drive into a heavier frenzy.

It's not good. He knows it's not good, and he hasn't even talked to anyone yet. Derek can feel it in his gut.

Instead of returning phone calls or listening to his umpteen voicemail messages, he decides to go straight to the hospital. He can't be bothered to return phone calls right now. If Meredith is in critical condition - or worse, he can't possibly think about a worst scenario right now - he would rather not find out over the phone. He needs to see her for himself.

Half the hospital is positioned outside Meredith Grey's room in the SICU. Amelia frowns at the mass of doctors and nurses as she turns to him. Owen Hunt seems just as displeased by the large amounts of personnel outside Meredith's room.

"Where is Derek?" she mumbles hastily, grimly watching over Meredith Grey's unconscious mangled body.

"He called me back earlier, but we were in surgery," Owen explains. "I tried calling him back and no answer." He groans as the voices outside of Meredith's room get louder.

Amelia is disgusted. She understands that Meredith is one of the most well-known people in the hospital, hence the name on the hospital, but this is absolutely ridiculous. She pushes the door open and shouts, "Okay, you all need to go. Now."

"Is she… is she brain dead?" a resident she doesn't recognize calls out. Amelia clenches her fists together tightly, disgusted.

"We'll know more in the morning. Right now, you need to let her rest. Please, leave. All of you. There's nothing to see here. We will have updates tomorrow." Her voice raises higher than she'd planned it to, and to her relief, the hall begins to empty out. The figures of five individuals remain: Alex Karev, Miranda Bailey, Callie Torres, Richard Webber, and Maggie Pierce. They all look as grim as she feels. Owen motions them to come into Meredith's room.

"Has anyone spoken to Derek?" Owen asks the group.

"I left him voicemails," Webber and Bailey say in unison.

"So did I," Callie and Maggie say at the same time.

"I talked to him for a couple minutes," Alex says gruffly.

"You did?!" everyone in the room cries.

"And you failed to mention that, why?" Amelia scowls, annoyed.

"Sorry I forgot to mention it. There's been a lot of crap going on today. The line went dead after I told him what was going on, and he didn't answer when I called back, so I don't know if he's on his way or…"

Before Alex can finish his sentence, Derek Shepherd's figure appears in the doorway.

The receptionist in the main lobby told him which room was his wife's. Derek was just grateful to learn that his wife had a room, his worst fear was he'd come all this way to find out it was too late.

Before his eyes land on his wife's dismembered figure in the mind, the first thing he notices is the sounds coming from the heart monitor. He hears her heart beating. She's alive.

Being a neurosurgeon, however, means that he knows that a heartbeat is not the only signal of life. He knows he has so many more questions to ask, questions he's afraid to hear the answers to. He looks around the room, focusing in on the somber crowd.

It's his sister he locks eyes with first. Her crisp, somber blue eyes send swords through his heart. "Amy," he mouths.

"Derek, I-I'm so sorry," she says, and her eyes fill with tears. The liquid spills out of her eyes as she falls into his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist. Her tears force his tears to set loose too, and he's crying onto her hair.

They were all at the hospital. Mom was talking to the doctors and nurses. Nancy, Kate, and Lizzie took off, leaving Derek to comfort her. He kept looking at Mom, studying her face, trying to figure out what was going on with Dad.

He saw the doctor mouth what looks like, "I'm sorry."

And it was then Derek knew. He knew that his dad wasn't going to make it. He didn't need to hear the words to know.

Before Mom could come over to tell them that their father was gone, he draped his arm around Amelia, tears already filling in his eyes. He felt her tears start to bleed into his shirt, and he buried his face in her soft dark hair.

"I'm so sorry, Amelia," he mumbled into her small five-year-old head. He didn't know why he was apologizing to her. Deep down, he knew that there was nothing he could have done to prevent their father from being shot, but he still felt bad. Amelia was only five years old. She was just a little girl, and she would never know her father like the rest of her siblings had known him.

"Is she…?" Derek starts to ask, but he can't bear finish the sentence.

Amelia's sobs prevent her from answering coherently. It's Owen who speaks up, "We won't know for sure until tomorrow."

"W-Where are the kids?" he stumbles for words, swallowing thickly. Meredith might be all right. She's a fighter. She's survived so much, so she can survive this too. She has to survive. Not just for him, but for their children, too. The image of five-year-old Amelia on the day of their father's death roams violently in his head. Their children are both younger than Amelia was then. He can't imagine telling them that they're never going to see their mother again.

"They're in daycare," Maggie explains, her face solemn but composed. "I was going to pick them up, take them out for dinner if that's okay."

Derek nods soberly in approval. "That would be nice."

Maggie nods, starting to leave Meredith's room.

"And, Maggie?" He has one more request.

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell them, please don't tell them," he pleads desperately.

"I won't," she nods sadly.

He lets go of Amelia and walks toward his wife. He turns to everyone else in the room. "Can I…"

"Of course," Richard and Owen both nod, and they motion for the others to leave. Both follow suit, giving Derek this time alone with Meredith.

He sits in the chair next to Meredith, finding it excruciatingly painful to look at her face. There's a huge bruise that covers her forehead. He breathes shakily, memories of pulling a hypothermic Meredith out of the freezing Elliott Bay come sinking back. She was so blue and cold then. He grabs her bandaged hand, tracing the IV in her arm. He strokes her knuckles and sighs deeply, his face soaked with drying tears. She looks pale, but not blue, and thinner than she had when he left. Meredith is a tiny woman, so it's not like she had much weight to lose in the first place. Laying in the hospital bed, she looks so fragile.

Derek shakes his head sadly. After she'd drowned, he'd been so scared that she would never come back to him. He'd been terrified that, if she did wake up, she would be brain dead. The fact that she wasn't is a miracle in its own.

"Come on, Meredith," he whispers. "You're a fighter. Come back to me."

She has to come back. Meredith always comes back. She might take her time, but she always come back on her own terms. Somewhere, she has to be in there, waiting to come back to him when the time is right.

"I should have never gone to DC," he admits, "but you told me we could make this work. I don't know about you, but this isn't my definition of making it work." His lungs rattle when he sighs.

Even unconscious, even with bruises all over her body, she looks ethereal. She's beautiful, and he feels his heart breaking into a million tiny pieces as he kisses the bandages covering her hands.

"I was worried that you'd stopped loving me," Derek confesses, opening up his heart to her lifeless form. "You know, you've been especially complicated these past months. More complicated than usual. You pushed me to go to DC, and I thought maybe it was because you didn't want me around. When I was here, you didn't seem to want anything to do with me, but I guess it's because when we were together, we fought. We fought a lot, and I'm not proud of that. I'm sorry, Meredith. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to fight with you, but you're so damn stubborn. You make it so damn hard."

He ravishes in his confessions to unconscious Meredith. In DC, he's had plenty of time to think about his life and where he's going. Those lonely nights in his empty bed provided him plenty of time to ponder, especially when he and Meredith have barely spoken since his move.

"You're complicated. It's what I love about you. It's also what I hate about you, but love is supposed to conquer all. I'm supposed to love you, even when I hate you. It's in our vows on the blue post-it that hangs over our bed," he tells her softly, stroking her cheek. "Come back to me, Meredith. I'm not ready to stop loving you." His voice cracks. He leans over her bed, listening to the ventilator that's breathing for her. Sighing, he hovers his lips over her cold, chapped lips, and he presses his lips against hers. It feels weird not to feel her kissing back.

"I'll be here waiting," he tells her, grabbing hold of her hand. "I'm not going anywhere, not now."

And then her eyes open. It's slow, although sudden enough that the sight of her irises take him by surprise. His heart leaps in his chest as he meets her blue-grey eyes for the first time in what feels like an eternity.

"Meredith," a wide smile comes across his face, before noticing the sudden panic that comes across hers. "Meredith? Are you in pain?"

She blinks twice and starts to choke. His heart is pounding fervently inside his chest as he disconnects her from the ventilator.

"Meredith, say something," he begs. Please don't have brain damage.

There's a long pause, and then she opens her mouth to gasp. A blank, confused expression is frozen on her face. His anxiety rises, fearing for the worst.

At last, she speaks, but her question is definitely not one he had anticipated:

"Who the hell are you?"

He feels like he's just blinked his entire life away.