"Do you guys do this all time?"

I plop down on the green grass below, still wet from the morning dew. But I can care less as I try to regain my breath.

"No." Meredith drops to her knees. "Cristina just wanted to show off to you."

"I did. . .not." Cristina heaves out in one heavy breath. "I thought we could try something new."

The muscles in my legs cramp up every so often when I sit up. "Why couldn't we just. . .stay at home and. . .try a new flavor of coffee?"

"Or make a new type of cookie."

"Yeah. We should have done that."

At the hospital, we change into our scrubs and follow behind Bailey for our runs, starting with Cristina and Mr. Gaston.

"Mr. Gaston is scheduled for a resection non-small cell carcinoma today. He did well overnight, has remained afebrile." Cristina looks directly at Dr. Burke. "He's had a dose of ceftriaxone this morning, and his pre-op labs are unremarkable. His chest x-rays are unchanged from the previous."

The patient clears his throat gently. "I own a couple of dry cleaning stores. I never believed what they said about inhaling the chemicals, but. . ."

"We're gonna do everything we can for you, Mr. Gaston." Burke assures him. "Did oncology see him yet?"

"Uh, they're waiting for the surgical path." She answers after a long pause of silence.

"Thank you, Dr. Yang."

"You're welcome, Dr. Burke."

On the way out, Meredith and I split off from the group to join Cristina.

"I think you should tell him about the baby because he could at least have the responsibility of having to pay." Meredith leans back against the desk.

I nod my head in agreement. "He could be paying as much as a thousand weekly."

"No." She shuts both of us up rather quickly. "Look, he will never know. It's over."

Some nurses pass by, causing her to quiet down. But only for a few seconds. She puts away Mr. Gaston's case file and stands back up.

"Once the pregnancy's taken care of, Burke won't even be a blip on my radar." We walk away from the stand. "He'll be a smudge."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"Hey, newbie. Leave the sarcasm to me."

A short bathroom break later, I head down to the pit only to see Meredith cowering behind a corner wall, peering out onto the floor.

"Amateurs! You're amateurs!"

Some patient yells, her gurney surrounded by Bailey and the interns. From across the room, Cristina mouths Ellis Grey.

Now, in my entire life, I have heard the name uttered two times, the second being this. I grab Meredith by the shoulders and lead her to the locker room for some privacy.

Bailey finally arrives, her posse in two. "Leven, both Dr. Shepherds need an intern up in the N.I.C.U.."

"Are you sure, I —"

"Go."

"Wait, hold on, they're both there? With each other? You're sending me up to assist the two exes who —"

"Go."

Upstairs in the labor and delivery wing, I watch the small preemie resting in an incubator, her little chest rising and falling.

"Mother's gone." Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd stands beside me. "She stuck around long enough to get the kid strung out and then took off."

Dr. Shepherd paces directly behind us, the infant's file in his hand. "Addison, I —"

"I know it's a longshot, Derek." Her gaze doesn't shift from the baby. "I know that."

"You told me that you had a newborn with an invasive mass." He shuts the file harshly. "You failed to mention that she's premature, underweight, and addicted to narcotics."

Moving away from her, I take the patient file.

"There is no way that this baby's gonna survive spinal surgery."

"You don't know that."

"Even if she does, she's a mess." Shepherd slips his hands through the holes. "Look at her. She's got meningitis seizures. She's just gonna live a short and painful life."

"You don't know that." She repeats with more emphasis.

"It's my job to know that."

"You're not God, honey. I'm sorry, but you're not. You don't get to decide —"

"Did you just call me honey? Don't call me honey."

This goes on for a few more minutes before I finally cut in.

"I'll just. . .I'll check on the labs." I rush out of the room as fast as I can.

When I return, Dr. Shepherd has already left, and his ex-wife is standing in the same position as before, hovering over the dying newborn.

"She's got a really strong grip." I nod towards the doctor's pinky finger and the infant wrapping her entire hand over it.

"Yeah." She pulls away.

A deep exhale leaves through my nose. "I. . .it's not looking good for her." I hand her the file.

"She's got a resistant strain of pneumococcus. The antibiotics aren't working." She sighs, lifting her head up. "You may want to get yourself reassigned, Dr. Phoenix. I don't think we'll be operating today."

"Are you. . .are you saying Dr. Shepherd was right?"

"It's just too far gone. Even though she has a good grip."

Before I know it, I'm running through the halls, searching for the correct room. Once I do, I see Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd standing at the foot of the bed while Bailey stands beside Cristina.

The neonatal doctor presses the transducer against Cristina's abdominal area. "Oh, man."

"What-What is it? What's going on?"

Their heads snap up at the additional voice.

"You see that?" She points to the ultrasound monitor. "It was an extrauterine pregnancy. The tube burst, and now she's bleeding out."

"What do you mean was?" I cut in once again.

She wipes off the gel. "Looks like you're gonna be scrubbing in on a surgery after all."

We make it up to an empty O.R. for Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd to cut her open and remove the ectopic tissue.

"How attached was she to this pregnancy?" She glances up at me from above her mask.

"I. . ." She practically stares me down, waiting for my answer. "I'm not sure. She's kept to herself for the short amount of time I've known her."

The woman watches me from the corner of her eye.

"She's losing a lot of blood." She declares. "But I'm in control."

My fingertips press against the scrub cap holding Cristina's hair. Unlike this morning, she looks somewhat at peace.

"Phoenix." Bailey charges into the room, already scrubbed in. "You need to leave. Now."

"What did I —"

She nudges me towards the entrance, pushing me past the sliding door. Her body blocks the pathway, prohibiting me from coming back in.

"Oh, come on, Dr. Bailey." I rip the mask off. "Just because I'm the new girl here doesn't mean she's isn't my —"

But Bailey cuts me off. "Your friend. I know she's your friend." She closes her eyes for a couple of seconds. "But right now, she's a patient. And she deserves to have all the privacy I can give her. You're not going in there again."

"I have a lot of respect for you, Dr. Bailey. But right now. . ." I just shake my head.

"That's okay. I can take it."

The door closes, and I watch as she takes my spot behind Cristina, holding her head exactly as I had done before.

Later, I find Meredith sitting all by herself in an empty gallery. The lights have been dimmed to a bare minimum. The only sounds come from the sobs choking at her throat.

"I'm. . .I'm exhausted." Her words break as soon as they leave her mouth. "My mother's exhausting. . .and what happened to Cristina. . .and hiding every damn feeling I have in my entire body. . .because I work with him."

My arms circle her shoulders as I let her sob into my shoulder. "Work with whom? Shepherd?"

"No." Her hands tremble as she tries to wipe away her tears. "George."

"George? As in George O'Malley?"

"Are you mocking me or just that clueless?"

Her sobs turn into short chuckles, hiccuping in the back of her mouth.

"You guys would make cute babies."

She smacks my shoulder, her laughter growing slowly. Soon, she's practically rolling on the floor, full-on belly laughing.

"Was there something wrong with what I said?"