Avery's Anatomy

Forty Four

Previously on Avery's Anatomy

Charlie took in the scene, her eyes welling with tears. She sniffled and turned to leave. "I'm going to tell the Chief your son was born, okay?" Without waiting for a response, she stepped out of the room and leaned against the door.

'Brea—

A deafening boom followed by a shuddering of the entire hospital made her stagger.

"Mer!"

Without thinking, Charlie sprinted past the shocked staff in the hallway.

'Please, please... not her!'

******

Charlie felt as though her heart was about to burst from her chest. Medically, she understood that such a reaction was statistically unlikely given her rigorous exercise routine, but that logic faded away as she pushed through the emergency doors and headed for the stairs.

"God, we've never gotten along, but if you're out there watching, please don't take her from me. I don't think I could survive it."

She took three steps at a time, still feeling slow for a neurosurgeon, but any faster and her movements would become uneven, raising the risk of injury. Cracking open her skull wasn't on her to-do list.

Finally, Charlie reached the door to the third floor. Without hesitation, she gripped the handle and swung it open, her chest heaving and her eyes wide as she surveyed the darkened hallway filled with thick smoke.

Instinctively, she grabbed a mask from a nearby cart as she rushed toward Meredith. Strapping it on, her heart raced in her ears, and the scene around her reminded her of something she wished she could forget.

"Calm down," she scolded herself.

But she hadn't moved.

"Move."

Her body felt frozen, fear coursing through her veins, and the adrenaline that had fueled her earlier rush was replaced by dread.

Desperate, she pinched her thigh and screamed internally, "MOVE, DAMMIT!"

After what felt like an eternity, her legs finally obeyed. The smoke made it hard to see, but she could hear the broken glass cracking beneath her feet as she searched the hallway.

"Come on, Mer."

She was desperate for any sign that her girlfriend was alive—a cough, a breath—anything. It wasn't long before the emergency sprinklers activated, soaking her from head to toe, but she didn't care.

Halfway through her search, she heard it—a weak cough.

Reacting instantly, she dashed toward the sound, nearly slipping in her haste. Grabbing onto a nearby cart for support, she muttered, "Crap."

"Help," came a weak but recognizable voice.

Charlie moved closer, stopping short when she saw Cristina trying to wake Meredith while covering her mouth.

Charlie froze, her fear paralyzing her. She knew she should act, but seeing Meredith lying still, her hair matted with what looked like blood and scrapes covering her arms and face, made it hard to think straight.

Cristina noticed her arrival and turned to stare, but all Charlie could see was a vision of her mother in Meredith's place, and she shuddered.

"No, no, no. God, please no."

"Charlie!"

Cristina wondered if she would regret her actions later, but she knew they were necessary. Now, standing on her feet, she slapped Charlie across the face.