Mostly a one -shot, set after the explosion in 2×16, The End of The World.

I know it's laughably short, but I'll write another chapter unless I get feedback to the contrary.


" Where is she? "

" She's right here. " Richard soothes, and then she is, turning the corner into his arms.

" Oh thank God. " he whispers , and he holds her close, her heartbeat pounding against his chest the only thing he can feel.

There's a rumble, somewhere above them, screams, the sound of glass shattering and windows blowing out, but all he can hear is her breath in his ear.

" Thank god you're safe. "


She's stiff, eyes glassy with shock, blood that's not hers crusted down her cheek and on the soot stained blue gown that he's still wearing, and all she can say as he pushes her gently into the stream of water is he's dead.

Izzie and Cristina are there too, wringing their hands, unsure what to do, so he lets them take care of her, wipe her face and rinse her hair.

" Bailey had a boy. " Izzie says, giggling at how ridiculous it is that on a day like this there is still something to celebrate.

" Came into the world with a bang. " Cristina snorts, and then they're all three of them laughing, collapsing against each other under the water.


He changes into a fresh pair of scrubs, dumps his sweaty pair in the laundry.

They've given her a mild sedative, for the shock, and since she refused a hospital room with the only real emotion she's shown since the explosion, he tucks her into the bottom bunk in an on call room and spoons her close, breathing in the scent of her hair and pondering just how close he came today to losing what has become his entire world.

The sound of the seventh page gets to him, tinny and shrill, cutting through the fog of exhaustion and he reaches blindly for the pager.

Trauma Two. 911.

He leaves her wrapped in blankets and sleeping soundly with a kiss on the cheek, heads down to the ER, cursing whoever the hell had the nerve to need him tonight, to take him away from her when she needs him.

" Where is he? " Richard is demanding, he can see frantic movement in trauma two behind him, a body being resuscitated, words flying thick and too fast for him to hear.

" Here. " He says behind him, assuming that he's the one being asked about.

" Where the hell have you been?" His mentor asks, fist clenching.

" She needed me. " he protests, registering belatedly that Adele is there too.

" Honey, that is not the she who needs you." she says quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder like she's bracing him for something.

He shrugs her off, impatient.

She's always been closer to Addison, anyway.

" They needed to ask you. When to - stop. " Richard forces out the last word like it's choking him on the way up his throat.

" Stop what, Richard, I really don't have time for this right now, I need to -"

The older man silently wrenches open the door to the trauma room, and only then does he see that the hair spread across the pillow is a shade of red he knows sparkles with gold and auburn and burgundy in the sun, that the rings they are cutting off her fingers are rings that he put there, that the faint scar across her thigh exactly two fingers above her left knee is from a sailing incident at age sixteen and that this is what it feels like, to have your entire world taken away from you.


So. ... another chapter?