Let It Go

14.

Cristina worked with one eye on the clock. She had four minutes. Four minutes and the risk of permanent brain damage would become very real - assuming she got the heart started in the first place. "Temp is at 25," one of the nurses said. "Good," Cristina muttered. His temperature was rising quickly. It was still twelve degrees from normal though. "Just ten more," she whispered. She just needed ten more degrees. She'd already gotten ten. Harrison just needed to give her ten more.

Meredith stood at Harrison's side, her hand again lightly holding his. "Come on buddy," she said, watching as the monitor flipped from 25 to 26 degrees. No one spoke. Every eye it seemed was either watching the timer tick down or watching his temperature slowly climb upwards. Cristina remembered the saying 'not dead until they're warm and dead'. This was going to be her mantra she decided. Harrison was not dead until he was warm and dead. The monitor rolled again, this time from 26 to 27. Eight more degrees to go.

*************

Derek forced himself to breath. He concentrated on the simple task, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth. His chest felt full. He couldn't deal with this. He just couldn't. It was all too familiar, all too real. He had worked through this once. He didn't think he could do it again. He didn't think he could face months and months of darkness again. Things had finally been looking up for him. He was back home with his family, a successful neurosurgeon taking over the department his father had spent years building up. He had been waking up feeling happy lately, smiling even. He had even started falling for Meredith.

But this accident changed things. It had brought back the harsh reality that life was not fair. Not everyone's life was unfair though. Other people had happily ever afters and white picket fences. They had sisters with healthy, full-term babies and nephews who didn't have aneurysms. Right now, they were probably coming home from work, picking their kids up from summer camps and daycares. They would go home, have dinner at their kitchen tables while they discussed what they did that day. After dinner, fathers took their sons out to play catch or kick the soccer ball around while mothers watched their daughters practice ballet moves or played Barbies. Not him though. He couldn't have that. He got to have one heartache after another.

"Derek?" Derek sighed and leaned back against the wall, hoping Mark wouldn't find him. Of course, Mark appeared at the end of the hallway. He didn't say a word but sat down next to Derek. He thought he knew what was going through Derek's head. Old wounds had been re-opened, past memories dragged out of their hiding places in Derek's mind.

"Derek?" Mark asked again after several minutes. "Is there any news?" Derek countered. "Annie's baby is stable. He's intubated and their running tests, but the neonatalogist on his case said he was doing rather well for a preemie." "Nothing on Harrison though?" Mark sighed. "No. Nothing on H." Derek blew out a breath. He could vent. he could vent to Mark and Mark would listen. Mark could be an ass sometimes. He made perverted comments and thought he was God's gift to women. But he was the closest thing Derek had to a brother. He'd been with Derek through everything. He could vent to Mark. He needed to vent to Mark.

"What the hell is she thinking?" he asked, the anger coming back. "Meredith?" "Yes Meredith! She has no business in that OR - not doing a standstill. She needs experience..." "She has experience Derek. She went though her residency..." "So what?" Derek snapped, cutting Mark off. "So she completed her residency and a fellowship! So did I! But I would have never thought so highly of myself as to believe I was capable of doing a surgery like that fresh out of my fellowship!" Mark snorted. Derek would have jumped at the chance to do a standstill fresh out of his fellowship. Any good surgeon would have. Now was not the time to remind him of that though.

"Harrison is going to die and it's going to be Meredith's fault!" Derek stated angrily. "Hold on just a minute," Mark started. "Derek, you know as well as I do that that kid had no chance at survival without this operation. If he dies - and he won't - it will be because the injuries he suffered were too extensive to recover from, not because Meredith opted to do a risky surgery to save his life." Derek shook his head.

"She doesn't know what she's doing. I should be in there. I should be operating, saving him." "Derek, you can't save everyone," Mark said quietly. Derek snapped his head to look at Mark. "Go to hell!" he said before standing up. He stormed off down the hall and disappeared around the corner. Mark remained where he was, knowing he shouldn't have said what he'd said, at least not right then. But it was true. Derek couldn't save everyone. He was barely keeping his own head above water and still had days where he let himself drown. Mark had hoped Meredith coming into the picture would help him. Derek had resembled his old self more this past week then he had in a long time.

Mark dreaded the moment Meredith would emerge from the OR. She would either have to tell them she'd lost Harrison or she'd be able to tell them he'd made it through the surgery and for the time being at least, stable. Either way, he knew Derek was going to have plenty to say to her and none of it would be pleasant. He rubbed his face hard with his hands as if to rub away some of the thoughts running through his full head. Too much had happened at once and processing it was damn near impossible. He stood and wandered down the hall towards Meredith's OR.

"Sir..." one of the security guards stationed at the door started. Mark raised his hand to quiet him. "I'm not going to try and bust the door down. I'm just going to sit out here and wait - that's all." He leaned against the wall opposite the door and slid down it until he was sitting. He didn't know much about a standstill as it wasn't his kind of surgery but he did know they should be getting close to done. They'd know soon.

*****************

The monitor flipped from 33 to 34. Cristina nodded once to herself. It wasn't ideal. Ideally, she'd have the last three degrees. But she didn't have them and couldn't afford to waste the time it would take to get them. She looked across the table at Meredith who was still lightly holding Harrison's hand. Their eyes locked and while neither spoke, Cristina knew what Meredith was saying - 'Losing him is not an option'.

"Start bypass," Cristina ordered. There was movement and moments later, the noise of the machine filled the near silent room. Meredith closed her eyes for a moment. It was time. Time to bring this child back to life, time to see if he was strong enough to survive this. He was, Meredith decided. He was strong enough to come back to them. He would come back to them, build his pirate ship with Derek, play Little League, whatever it was that little boys did. He had to come back to them. Because Meredith knew she could not walk out and tell Derek, Dr. Shepherd, his wife, his mother that they would be burying their little boy.

Hours passed. Not really. Mere minutes had passed. But to everyone in the room, it felt like hours. Time had suddenly stopped flying by. It had slowed down to slower then a crawl. It was odd really. Meredith stood at Harrison's side, his small, limp hand in hers as she watched everyone work quickly, efficiently. As quickly as they worked, it went by in slow motion. She heard each breath each person took. She saw each bead of sweat slowly form on Cristina's head. She saw each move of each tool. Nothing was going fast enough. Everything was going far too slow despite the rapid work of Cristina and the nurses. "You're going to be okay," Meredith said softly to Harrison.

Cristina heard her. She heard her tell Harrison he was going to be okay. She knew it was a long shot. Harrison was only six. His heart was sized for a six year old. It was strong enough for playing from sun up to sun down. It was strong enough for running through the aisles in the grocery store while his mother chased after him. But Cristina didn't know that t was strong enough to come back from the dead.

Her other concern was brain damage. On an adult, 45 minutes was a short enough time span to perform a standstill and bring the person back to life before brain damage became a concern. With a child, she was worried that 45 minutes was too long. That despite staying within the timeframe, it had been too long. The brain had gone too long without oxygen.

A nurse rattled off Harrison's vitals. Cristina swallowed. She took what felt like her fiftieth deep breath that day. "Let's bring him off of bypass," she told the room. This time, it was Meredith who drew in the deep breath. This was it. This was the moment.