"C. . .Crisis."

"What-What-What happened?"

Meredith pulls me in through the foyer of her home, leading me directly into the kitchen where Lexie is.

"Did you run here or something?"

"Maybe. . ."

"Leven, you can't do that with C.O.P.D.." She shoves a glass of water into my open palm. "Drink and tell us what happened."

In one gulp, the water is gone. "Derek and I were laying in bed — actually laying bed, not having morning sex — and he brought up kids."

"What kids?"

"Our kids."

"Oh."

"What's so wrong with that?" The younger Grey tosses a bright red apple towards me.

"I am in my prime of my medical career, and he essentially wants me to stay home, pop out a few kids, and take them to soccer practice."

". . .did he say it in those exact words?"

"Well, no. But I knew that's what he meant."

"You don't know that, Lev."

"He's a man. They're all stupid and arrogant."

"He's also your husband."

A sarcastic laugh bubbles.

"Exactly! Who in their right mind would settle down with a basket case like me?"

The two sisters share a similar look before turning their gazes in my direction. I huff a silent sigh.

"I sound insane, don't I?"

"Yes. Yes, you do."

The hospital is just as stressful as home when my father removes the tumor out of a woman who may have stroked out.

"Oh, the patient had a massive hemorrhage." Derek glances through the C.T. scans taken earlier. "Look, you see here? The left temporal lobe? The hemorrhage, it looks like. . ."

I glance towards him when he trails off. "Would you like to continue with your observations, Dr. Shepherd?"

"You look even prettier in your scrubs."

He lets his eyes rake freely over my figure.

"You're an absolute flirt."

I nudge his shoulder lightly.

April clears her throat from beside us. "What are you going to do about her stroke?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah, Mrs. Clark has a left temporal lobe hemorrhage that's extended into the ventricular system. There's nothing we can do." The neurosurgeon declares.

"Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?"

"Only if you'll let me keep telling you how pretty you are."

I curl an arm around his as we walk out of the x-ray room. He leaves little butterfly kisses against my cheek and jaw.

"Sorry for running out of the apartment in the morning."

"I thought we both wanted kids, Leven."

"We do. It's just. . .Derek, we should talk about this later."

"When?"

"Back home. When we're back to being husband and wife, not just a pair of doctors."

Dr. Webber, April, Lexie, and I line up alongside Mrs. Clark's bed to break the news to her husband.

"She could wake up, right?" Mr. Clark begs. "I mean, people wake up from comas all the time."

"I'm sorry. Your wife's coma is irreversible."

Derek turns towards me.

"Dr. Phoenix, would you explain it, please?"

I nod once. "Mrs. Clark's scans showed a massive hemorrhage in her brain. And the E.E.G. showed minimal brain activity."

"But that means there's hope, right? 'Cause at least there's activity. And-And her heart is still beating."

"Only because the mechanical ventilator is breathing for her." April jumps in. "When we turn the machine off, the heart won't get the oxygen it needs. And it will stop."

"Why would you turn it off? People can live for years on these machines."

"Your wife had already signed an advanced directive specifically that states no mechanical ventilation, Mr. Clark."

But no matter what any of us medical professionals tell him, Mr. Clark is still resilient to the idea of his wife never waking up.

"She filled that form out three years ago when the cancer was first diagnosed. The doctor told her she had six months to live, and she held on for another three years. She'll come back from this, too. You'll see."

Tears well in his eyes.

"You can't unplug her."

"Legally, we don't have a choice, sir."

"Wh-What? She's my wife. It's my choice."

"It's your wife's choice. And she made it three years ago."

His gaze trains on Lexie. "You said the surgery went fine. That's what you said."

"I did, but —"

"No. No, you're not a doctor, you're a child! And you're useless. I'm done talking with you. I'm done talking with all of you."

Mere hours pass when Derek requests to speak with Mr. Clark and the doctors involved in his case.

"Mr. Clark, I'm deeply sorry for your. . .for your loss."

"No, don't-don't speak about my wife as if she's dead." His thick accent peeks through. "She's still here. She could wake up."

Derek folds his hands over the front of his desk. "She's not gonna wake up, Mr. Clark. Not with the brain damage she suffered."

"You don't know that." The husband stands his ground with a firm shake of the head.

"Mr. Clark, if we don't obey your wife's directive — if we ignore her wishes —"

"She signed that form three years ago."

"Her health will deteriorate. She'll lose body mass. She'll have no immune system."

"She'll require around-the-clock care, and that can become very expensive very quickly."

"I don't care about that."

"It'll be no life for either of you." Derek shifts his eyes to me for only a few seconds. "And that's why your wife signed the advanced directive. She didn't want to have to live her life this way. And she didn't want you to live your life this way either."

"Don't you speak for my wife. Don't you dare speak for my wife."

But at that very moment, I know Derek isn't speaking for Mr. Clark or his wife: he's speaking for us — for me.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Clark, but the ethics committee has reviewed your case. We are bound by law to obey her wishes."

"If you unplug my wife, you'll be killing her."

"I'm sorry."

Without a word, April stumbles out of the room, only for Lexie to follow suit. Dr. Webber leads Mr. Clark back to his wife's room to say one last goodbye, leaving me and Derek all alone.

"I don't want to leave you alone with the kids."

". . .what?"

Propping myself on the edge of his desk, I run a gentle hand through his dark, gelled hair.

"I don't even know if I can carry to full-term multiple times with C.O.P.D. and H.C.M., Der. And if I do, there could be complications, and. . ." A single tear drops down my cheek. "I don't want you or our kids to be alone."

"Nothing is going to happen, Leven."

He turns his head to kiss the palm.

"You don't know that."