Don't mess with the Grey.

Chapter 35

An unusual stillness reigned in the hospital lobby for several long minutes. No one dared to move, rigidly clutching whatever they had grabbed for support. Or was it really for support? The aftershock of the explosion wasn't even as strong as to shake a stumbling toddler off balance. It was sudden, but gentle in its stealth. However, every single person seemed to be grasping at something with desperation, a wall, a counter, someone else's hand. Not to fall? Maybe. Or rather to put the world at ease, to prevent the unavoidable change.

The ensuing silence hung in the air, heavy, suffocating. According to a popular saying, ignorance was bliss. But when you were too far-gone, it became torture. Finally, numerous hands started to shake or twirl their fingers absentmindedly, heads turned to exchange anxious, questioning looks. And then followed first shy whispers which ultimately morphed into uncontrollable buzzing.

Meredith locked her wide eyes with Addie's for an instant, a raw panic coursing through her body, overwhelming her as she posed in her mind the same questions everyone else asked. What exactly happened? Did they manage to remove the explosive on time? Were there any casualties? An unspoken foreboding told them there must have been. The ammunition wasn't supposed to go off on the hospital premises, much less so inside the hospital, which meant... something must have gone wrong...

The phone rang out of a sudden, silencing the room all over again. The nurses at the station eyed the it warily and looked up at Meredith insecurely. The shrill sound seemed to bring her back to reality as she willed her muscles to complete the simple tasks like walking up, picking up the receiver and learning someone's fate. That was her job which she couldn't escape.

She felt dozens of eyes on her as she moved up and pressed the cold plastic to her ear.

"Chief Grey," she spoke clearly, awaiting the news in tension.

She heard indescribable noise on the other side mingled with frantic attempts at conversation and the only word she managed to fish out was "coming".

"What the hell is happening down there?" she demanded. "Who's coming up?"

"Two of your people," muttered a masculine voice more clearly than before. "... let you know as soon... assessing...".

Before she could ask for any more details, her interlocutor hung up.

"All right, people!" she called on, banishing the nervousness from her voice. "They're coming up!"

She hurried down the corridor halting several feet from the elevator door while the people previously scattered all over the lobby now gathered flanking her sides. Seconds passed as they stood together, arm in arm, in nervous anticipation.

The metallic sound announced the arrival of the elevator and the door slid open. Meredith's breath hitched in her chest, she could hear the blood rush violently in her veins making her dizzy as her eyes swept the interior of the lift. Derek... Derek was here. He was safe. He must be, right? If he stood in the elevator with his back pressed against the wall, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes cast down. Owen Hunt was right beside him, looking equally drained, but that was a minor point for Meredith right now. She was coming back to life along with this elevator.

Finally, Derek lifted his regard and met the crowd of people before him with a small concerned frown. He raised his arm to drag his lucky surgical cap off his head leaving it messy, but in this exact moment he didn't care much about one of the most valued elements of his anatomy. He and Owen pushed themselves heavily off the wall and started walking forward in a steady pace.

Mrs. Carlson, the wife of the patient who had brought about all the trouble, was the first one to break out from the huddled mass as she approached Owen cautiously.