Let It Go

15.

Derek wandered the halls of the hospital. He wasn't thinking. He was moving. He was moving through a heavy fog. The fog made it hard to see, hard to breathe. It filled his mind, stopped his thoughts. The fog wasn't so bad. The fog made reality unreal. It hid things. It hid his premature nephew. It hid his injured sister. It hid Harrison's surgery. It hid everything. He liked having things hidden.

He found himself at the visitor's entrance to the NICU. He hesitated at the door before letting himself in. He washed his hands at the sink just inside the door, not feeling the cold water on his hands nor the silky feel of the soap as he rubbed it in. He dried his hands, moving on autopilot. He pulled one of the yellow gowns worn by visitors to the NICU off of a shelf and put it on. He added a face mask and gloves and walked into the heart of the NICU, searching for his newborn nephew.

"Dr. Shepherd!" Derek turned at the sound of his name. "Dr.... Boyle," Derek replied. It was the fog. The fog made him forget the name of the Head of Neonatology, a man he'd worked with countless times. Dr. Boyle took in Derek's gown, mask, and gloves. "You here on a consult?" he asked curiously. He couldn't think of a single child who needed a neuro consult and he knew everything that went on in his NICU. The fog made Derek slow to respond to the question.

"No," he said. "My nephew... He's here..." Dr. Boyle felt stupid. Of course. Annie's baby. He'd heard about the accident, the whole hospital had. He had known Annie since the day she'd been born. He'd known all of Frank Shepherd's kids since the day they'd been born. He wanted to ask how Annie was. He wanted to ask how Harrison was. But he didn't. He could ask the other Shepherds but he couldn't ask Derek. Derek was a brilliant doctor. He would quite possible go down in history as better then his father who was legendary. But once Derek stepped outside the hospital, once he became just Derek, he was a train wreck - a well-hidden train wreck.

"Of course, he's in Pod A, bed four," Dr. Boyle said. "Pod A," Derek repeated. He walked blindly towards Pod A. The NICU had four pods. A was for the most critical babies. As they got stronger, they moved to other pods, D babies being the strongest, most of them on their way home within days of becoming a pod D baby. So of course his nephew was a pod A baby. Everything else had gone as bad as it could go. Why shouldn't his nephew be anywhere other then pod A?

He walked up to the forth incubator. The fog lifted just enough for him to see his nephew clearly. He was tiny, barely bigger then Derek's hand. His skin was see-through, something common in preemies. A tube was helping him breathe. There were lines and wires running to him. A bright light shined over his isolate to help pigment his skin. A small, padded blindfold covered his eyes to prevent the bright light from doing damage to his small eyes. Derek breathed in. He saw babies like this all the time but it was different when it was his nephew in the incubator, not someone else's child.

"He's a fighter." Derek jumped at the sound of his mother's voice. Derek looked over the isolate to see her sitting on the other side. The fog had prevented him from seeing her. "How is he?" Derek asked. "Like I said, he's a fighter. He's doing well - for a baby born two months early. I don't have to explain the risks to you though." Derek nodded. He knew all the risk. He knew the complications of prematurity.

"What about Annie?" "I'm sorry honey. I don't know anything. Your father is waiting. I didn't want the baby to be alone." Derek nodded. That's why he was here. He hadn't been planning on coming here. It had just happened. But it had happened because he couldn't do anything for Annie or Harrison. If he couldn't do anything for his sister and his nephew, he could at last make sure Annie's son and Harrison's brother did not spend his first day alone.

Ginny Shepherd watched her son as he gazed at his new nephew. In a few short hours, he had been destroyed all over again. It broke her heart to see him like this. He had only recently started to resemble himself again. She'd finally gotten him back home, gotten him where she could keep an eye on him, make sure he was eating and had clean clothes. Frank said she babied him and maybe she did. But he was her only son, placed right here in the middle of her four girls. She didn't worry about her girls. They were successful, happily married, mothers. They had an inner strength that kept them moving forward. Derek though, he wasn't his sisters. He was successful - the most successful of her brood. But he didn't have that inner strength. Not anymore. Watching him now, she knew that he was right back over the edge he'd finally managed to come back from.

"How are you doing honey?" she asked softly. "Fine," he answered shortly. "Derek Michael I'm your mother. I know better." "I said I'm fine!" Derek snapped. "Don't worry about me. Worry about Annie. Worry about Harrison. Worry about this baby. But do not worry about me." Ginny bit her lip to keep herself from saying any of the things she wanted to say, things she hoped would bring Derek back over the edge again, despite knowing it was too late.

"Go wait with dad," Derek instructed his mother. "I'm fine here..." "No. Go wait with dad. Go sit with him. Go wait for news on Annie - and Harrison. Just go. I'm going to sit with him." "Derek..." "Go mom!" Derek snapped. Ginny sighed. She stood and looked down at her new grandson. "He's a fighter," she said again. Derek nodded slightly. Ginny picked up her purse from the chair she'd dropped it in earlier and started to leave. She stopped and looked back at her son. "Derek?" "Yeah?" Derek replied, his back to his mother as he watched his nephew. "You aren't alone."

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

Buttons flipped. The bypass machine turned off. The room held it's breath. Nothing happened. No one breathed out. They waited. "Cristina?" Meredith asked, her voice full of panic. Nothing was happening. The monitors were flat. Something had to happen. The monitors couldn't stay flat. Cristina didn't reply, her eyes trained on the monitors. "Cristina!" Meredith snapped. She still didn't respond. "He's not coming back. We need to do something. Dr. Kern, push one of epi...," Meredith began. "Wait for it," Cristina interrupted. Meredith's jaw dropped. Wait for it? Seriously? Harrison wasn't coming back. She needed Harrison to come back.

"Wait for it," Cristina said again, her eyes still on the monitor. "We don't have time..." The monitors beeped. Meredith snapped her head to look. It beeped again as the straight line broke a second time to reveal a heartbeat. It happened again. And again. Again.... Meredith looked at Cristina. "Told you to wait for it," she said smugly. Meredith smiled. "Let's close up and get him to recovery," she directed. She released Harrison's hand, realizing for the first time that she'd been clinging to it much more tightly then she'd intended. She moved to the head of the table to begin the process of closing Harrison's brain. Before she began, she leaned down to Harrison's ear. "Told you you were going to be okay." She straightened up and began her work. Losing him had never been an option.