Nicole's A/N: Hi, all! We're back, and guess what? After this chapter, there are only two chapters remaining of Eye of the Storm. Thank you to our patient readers who've stuck with us for 4 ½ years of the "Storm" saga. After chapter 40, we're planning a sequel to this (story #3), which will share our version of MerDer's life After the Storm.

We hope you enjoy these last three chapters. Brace yourself for an emotional ride this chapter. I had a blast writing it last summer.

Chapter 38

A soft, "Meow," rouses Meredith from her sleep. Four pawprints press down on her bosom, and a slightly louder "Meow" blares into her ears as her eyes open, following. Sunny Wyatt is standing on her chest, her beady green eyes staring at her with hopeful determination. She headbutts Meredith's face, a loud purr roaring from the tabby's throat.

Meredith sniffles, a sniffle she's grown used to every morning before she takes her non-drowsy allergy meds. She's on a two-pill a day regimen to combat the dander, and it allows her to live in harmony with Sunny Wyatt and her kittens.

"Mmm," she hears Derek stirring.

"She's hungry," Derek groans. Meredith sighs, knowing Derek has to be at work in a couple of hours. Having never owned a cat in her life, Meredith had no idea what hour cats expected their mealtimes. Alex had been the one to explain that cats expected their morning meal bright and early, just as the sun rises. Evidently he and his siblings had rescued numerous cats when he was growing up, doctoring many sick and injured kittens and cats back to health. Who knew Alex had considered being a vet before entering med school. When Meredith asked why he chose humans over animals, Alex had said he hated the Cyclones and couldn't imagine being one.

When she looks at those cute kitten faces, and Sunny Wyatt's furry face—in all her glory—Meredith decides they're worth it. The early mornings to boot.

However, she has no idea how she will ever get used to the five a.m. wake-up call if she returns to work.

If. A big if.

Derek hasn't dropped the subject of her big, exciting return to surgery, one she still isn't sure will ever happen. He brings it up constantly, never skipping an opportunity to drop the hint, even if a "subtle" hint. Although, Meredith never considers his hints subtle.

"I'll feed her; I need to take my allergy med anyway," Meredith sniffles, figuring Sunny Wyatt needs to stay nourished to feed her babies. Though the babies are also starting to eat solid for too, and Meredith figures it won't be long before they're all on the bed one of these mornings. Fortunately, Sofia will be able to take her two babies home in a week, and they'll be down to just Sunny Wyatt and the kitten they've told Zola she can keep.

Meredith only hopes she'll grow used to the cat dander, holding onto the vet's word that people can get used to their own cat's dander. She's not sure what will become of Sunny Wyatt, though, since Meredith can't imagine ever letting her outdoors again where she could possibly encounter danger. It's possible they will need to find a new home for Sunny after her kittens are able to manage on their own, but a tinge of sadness touches Meredith's heart when she thinks of that. She's grown attached to the tabby; the cat has become a token of healing through the grief she's swallowed since losing Eli. When she sees Sunny Wyatt with her babies, she feels like everything will be okay.

After she stumbles into the bathroom to swallow an allergy pill, followed by Sunny Wyatt the whole time, she pushes the bedroom door open to find three little kittens rolling out of the cat bed. They begin chorusing a soft "meer", signaling they're also ready for breakfast.

Meredith opens a can of wet food, recommended to them by Alex. He informed them that cats generally prefer wet food, and it's better for their hydration since cats usually don't drink enough water. Alex was right about one thing: the cats love wet food. She puts the food into two bowls, one for Sunny Wyatt, and the other for her kittens. She watches as the cats chow down on their breakfast. She also tops the dry food off that they leave down all day with fresh food.

She follows the kittens with her eyes, noting how much bigger they've become in just a few weeks' time. It won't be long before Sofia will get to take her kittens home. She feels bad for their sibling who will be staying with the Grey-Shepherds, though. Surely she'll miss her brothers. Maybe they'll have to arrange playdates with Sofia. She wonders if cats like playdates with their siblings. They sure play with each other a lot now. Meredith enjoys watching the kittens romp around.

Feeling sleepiness subside her, she grabs her laptop and browses the internet. By default, she visits the grief forum she's been visiting often and checks her messages. She sees she has a new one from JackCohn. They've been talking a lot lately, almost messaging back and forth at least once a day. Their messages are long, practically novel-length. Their conversations have been cathartic for Meredith. She reads Jack's latest message:

I can tell from your messages that you are a beautiful person, both inside and out. You are braver than you know, and I think others find you an inspiration. I know I do. I was wondering if you would like to continue our conversation through email? It might be easier than logging into the site every day. It might be a good first step to stop visiting this site, if you know what I mean. It can be difficult reading everyone's sad stories. My email is jackcohn at email dot com. I'll be waiting for your email.

Best regards,

JackCohn

An intrinsic force sets fire to the walls around her heart. Logging into the grief forum has become part of her regular routine. She scrolls through the posts of other users, reading their own stories of loss and commenting when she feels compelled. At this point, she can't imagine her life without the forum. Jack has just been another perk of the forum, someone to vent to, someone to tell the things she could never feel comfortable telling Derek.

Her heart warmed reading you are a beautiful person, both inside and out. She feels guilty for allowing it to feel so warm in a way it hasn't warmed in such a long time. She shouldn't be allowed to feel this way, especially from a man's words who isn't her husband. It feels like she's cheating.

She has to put a stop to this.

Hi Jack,

I'm sorry. I don't feel it would be fair to either of our partners if we started emailing each other. In fact, it's probably best we stop writing to each other so often. We really should focus on rebuilding our relationships with our respective partners rather than writing messages to each other.

She gulps a harsh breath and hits send.

She looks up and sees Derek. He's wearing a blue polo she loves that matches his eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" he asks.

"You know the answer to that," she replies. Derek's sparkling eyes dim. Meredith thinks back to her past message to Jack. She holds her fists, trying to contain herself. It's hard, considering how often Derek has been nagging her to go back to work. She can only take so much nagging. Jack had suggested she try to listen to Derek, because his intentions are good. She knows Jack is right; it will be better if she returns to work, but the memory of her last day still stings. She doesn't know if she'll ever be able to handle the sad cases.

Of course, it's not like every day is sad. She saves lives too. That's the whole reason most doctors become doctors in the first place.

"It would be good for you," Derek says.

"I can't today," she says, leaving out her plans to go to the bank. Her online banking password isn't working, and she worries her account has been hacked. The last time she logged into the account was before she went into the hospital, aware there were funds left in the account.

However, now she's used up most of her sick time and PTO, so she must calculate how much longer she can afford to not work before deciding what to do. Plus, it won't be long before they receive the medical bills from her surgery and Eli's neonatal care. Insurance will cover some, but not all. She's been slapped with so many medical bills over the years, although she knows they're more financially stable than most Americans. She needs to keep it that way, for Zola and Bailey's sake.

Derek's look of disapproval rips her apart, but thankfully he doesn't make another remark.

Meredith's sunglasses shield the bright August sun as she drives off the ferryboat deck into Seattle. She hopes the bank isn't busy, so she can get in and out quickly.

She wishes her bank would build a location in Bainbridge. Going to the bank with two small kids isn't ideal, and she had considered sending them with Derek to daycare, but then Derek would have pressed for more information. If Meredith had mentioned going to the bank, she knows he would suspect what she's doing and would continue on his soapbox of her returning to work, which, in his mind, will solve all their problems.

Except hacking. She can't shake the thought of her account being hacked.

The logical side of her figures she's just forgotten the password or has mistyped it too many times since the login page tells her she's locked out of her account from too many attempts. She could have simply called the bank, but she hates phone calls and prefers to deal with these situations face to face.

The illogical, anxiety-ridden side of her believes she's been hacked. The news is filled with stories of hacked accounts. She's always known it could happen to her. Sometimes she doesn't pay enough attention to the links she clicks. She's backed away several times from a sketchy-sounding webpage.

She pulls into the bank parking lot at precisely 9:00, opening time, figuring they won't be busy yet. She parks and unfastens the kids' car seats. Both kids were unusually quiet during the ride.

"Mommy, can we get ice cweam?" Zola asks, hopping from her car seat, her purple unicorn tennis shoes hitting flat on the pavement.

"We'll see," Meredith says, feeling a desire for a cold sweet treat herself, but she doesn't want to get Zola's hopes too high. If Derek found out how many times they've had ice cream in the past month, he'd have a cow. Are you trying to make our kids diabetic? She hears her husband's voice reverberate in her head. No, I'm trying to make sure our kids get their calcium, she reflects on a response she'd give him.

Creating conversations with Derek in her head has become a new hobby for her with all her new-found free time. She has more conversations with him in her head than in person. Dr. Wyatt had suggested it was good to roleplay conversations. She was supposed to write them down and bring them to her therapy sessions so she and Dr. Wyatt could act them out, but something about writing them down made her uncomfortable. After all, once it was written, she felt closer to reality.

Meredith unfastens Bailey and walks toward the bank's entrance with her son in her arms, Zola skipping beside her.

"Mama potty," Bailey says, tugging at Meredith's ear. "Gotta potty." She feels both annoyance and relief. After Bailey's regress with potty training, she's been working hard with him the last weeks to get him back on track. He's been doing really well lately, with only a few accidents. Even though it means she'll have to spend more time in the bank, she's not going to miss the opportunity for her son to show her what a good boy he can be.

"Okay, we'll find a bathroom," she says. She enters the air-conditioned lobby and her eyes search the place for a restroom sign. She sees a sign pointing to the left in the corner of the office, so she quickly drags the kids over there. There's only one stall, so she brings Zola in the stall too. She unfastens Bailey's jean shorts and puts him on the toilet while Zola stands near the sink.

A tinkle sounds from the toilet.

"Good boy, Bailey!" Zola praises her little brother.

Bailey's blue eyes light up, the same way his father's do when he's made a new discovery. In Bailey's case, his new discovery is going potty gets him compliments, and compliments feel good.

"Yes, Zozo's right. You are a good boy, Bailey," Meredith reaffirms her daughter's words, patting his head gently.

"Good boy!" he repeats. "I a good boy."

"Yes, you are, Bails. Mommy is proud of you."

"All done!" He signals her sign to help him put his pants back on. She takes him over to the sink and puts soap on his hands. She turns on the water, singing Itsy Bitsy Spider with her son while they wash. It's a tradition she and Derek started when Zola was a toddler to teach her how long she needs to wash her hands.

She has Bailey in her arms, Zola is still in the bathroom when she hears, "Give me all your cash or everyone here is going to die." Her heart freezes, and she sets her son in the bathroom next to his sister. She unlocks her iPhone with her thumbprint and hands it to Zola.

"Stay here, Zo, and watch your brother," she says in her quietest voice. "And text Daddy. You remember the letters we text when there's an emergency?" She lifts her fingers above her lips to signal Zola needs to speak quietly.

"SOS?" Zola whispers fearfully.

Meredith nods. "Zo, you are strong. You can do this for Mommy. Mommy's going to see what's going on, and she'll be back soon. All right, Lovebug?"

Zola nods with wide eyes, then looks at the phone screen. Meredith just hopes Bailey doesn't start crying. She leaves the kids and hopes she isn't lying to her daughter. She prays to whatever higher power there might be that this won't be the last time they see her alive.

Derek sips on his morning coffee, scrolling through his emails—mostly marketing emails inviting him to attend the latest neuroscience classes and webinars. Some of them looked appealing. He made a habit of reading through as many of the emails as he could during his free time. One had particularly caught his eye—a conference put on by the Society for Neuroscience. It's in October in Chicago.

He sighs, not sure if traveling is in his cards right now. He figures he'll be smart to stick to webinars and online classes that he can do from Seattle. As tempting as it is to want to avoid Meredith, to look for an excuse to get away, he knows it's not in their best interest. He needs to stay close, in order to rebuild trust in their relationship.

Derek clicks away from his email box for a moment to look at another account, one that he's not sure if he should be checking at work, but curiosity kills the cat.

The words appear before his eyes:

Hi Jack,

I'm sorry. I don't feel it would be fair to either of our partners if we started emailing each other. In fact, it's probably best we stop writing to each other so often. We really should focus on rebuilding our relationships with our respective partners rather than writing messages to each other.

His heart both drops and warms. Well, it's refreshing to know that Meredith isn't interested in confiding in Jack, a kind-hearted, gentle soul who's been willing to listen. At the same time, Derek has enjoyed picking his wife's brain through the persona of Jack. He knows it's wrong, but it feels like the only way to talk to his wife sometimes.

It all started when Meredith left the grief forum tab open on her laptop when she went to the bathroom. He had been wondering what his wife was doing on the computer and was startled to discover she was on a grief forum. Figuring it might benefit him too, he joined and began reading her comments. It was refreshing for once to know exactly what was going on inside Meredith's mind.

He couldn't stop himself from taking advantage of the opportunity to present himself to her, in the form of JackCohn.

He's deep in thought when his phone buzzes. Assuming it's a page to consult on a trauma, he quickly grabs the phone and reads the text message.

Meredith: Sos

This isn't the kind of trauma he was imagining.

He instantly remembers when Zola was learning her alphabet, he and his wife had told her the importance of the letters "SOS".

"If Mommy or Daddy is ever in trouble and can't use our phones, you need to text the letters S O S," Meredith had told their daughter, taking her phone and showing Zola on the keyboard where the letters were. Zola had practiced several times sending the letters from Meredith's phone to Derek's.

Zola has never had to use the letters in a real life emergency, though.

His heart pounding viciously in his chest, like it's about to erupt at any moment, he taps the FaceTime icon, needing to see his kids and wife.

It doesn't take long for Meredith's phone to answer; he sees Zola and Bailey, but the room is dark. "Zola, Bailey, what's going on?"

"Daddy… it's bad," Zola whispers, then he hears a loud voice command in the background.

"WHO'S IN THERE? Open up now, or I'll shoot you through the door."

He feels like he's just swallowed his heart. "Zola, where are you?"

"Bank" is all he hears from Zola, and the screen goes black.

His face is white, his hands trembling. He needs to call the cops. Meredith never mentioned going to the bank this morning, but that doesn't mean she didn't. He wants to be in denial, that this isn't happening, but he heard the voice in the background as clear as day threatening his children's lives. And where was Meredith? Was she already dead?

He turns around and sees Amelia.

"Derek, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost?" He stares at her point blank, trying to find words. "Derek, what's going on? What can I do?"

"Call the cops. I think Meredith, Zola, and Bailey are hostages in a bank robbery."

The little color left in Amelia's pasty skin drains.

She hears the loud sound of her iPhone's ringtone. Crap, why isn't her phone on silent? She should have known Derek would have tried to call Meredith as soon as he received that text. It hadn't crossed her mind when she handed the phone to Zola.

When the robber returns with her kids and a gun pointed at them, she feels like she's just been shot. "These two belong to anyone?" the robber asks.

"Mommy, help," Zola pleads fearfully at Meredith, tears painted on her cheeks. Bailey is bawling. He releases them and lets them come to her. Both kids fall into her arms and squeeze her tightly.

"Please, can you let them go? They're just kids," the teller says.

"Not until I get what I came for," the robber points the gun at the teller. "Give me the money, and no one dies." Before the teller can respond, the robber's face twitches, and he falls to the ground and starts seizing. His gun is still in his hand.

Meredith registers what's happening immediately: the man must have a brain tumor. Surely someone so stupid to rob a bank in broad daylight must have a brain tumor.

Not thinking twice about the gun in the man's hand, or the evil surrounding the situation, Meredith approaches him. She turns back to the teller and the only other customer in the lobby. "I'm a doctor," Meredith says.

"I wouldn't help him," the teller says snarkily.

"I took an oath. I have to help him," Meredith says, knowing that it's the right thing to do. She just hopes she doesn't get shot in the process. "Call 911, immediately, this man needs immediate medical attention, and luckily my husband and sister-in-law are two of the best neurosurgeons in Seattle."

The man shakes. Meredith senses genuine fear in his eyes.

"I'm afraid you're having a seizure. I'm a doctor. We're going to turn you on your side, and call 9-1-1…" Before the teller picks up the phone, Meredith hears sirens.

A loudspeaker erupts, "We know you're in there! Please open up the door and let the hostages out."

The teller runs over to the door, and in the process of doing so, a gunshot explodes hitting the woman's ankle.

"Oh, for the love of God, we're trying to save your life." Meredith rolls her eyes. The woman pulls herself to the door and pushes it open.

An officer sees the woman and opens the door. "What's going on in there?"

"He's seizing, and he shot me. The bastard is dying, and he shot me," the woman croaks.

The officer appears, and moments later Derek, Amelia, and Maggie barge through the door. "What on earth is happening?" Derek asks, his eyes on Meredith who is crouched beside the seizing man.

"The robber is having a seizure. I think he has a brain tumor, which clearly explains his actions. We have to save him, Derek. We need to get him to Grey-Sloan immediately."

"First, he's going to have to let go of his gun. Sorry, buddy, I don't think you're going to be doing any robbing today. Give it up now," the officer says with a smirk on his face. Maggie runs to the bathroom and gets some towels to press on the injured teller's wound.

The robber sighs, and releases his gun to the cop.

"Come on, we have to get him to the hospital immediately," Meredith urges Derek.

"After he threatened you and the kids?" Derek doesn't look so convinced.

"We took an oath, we have to help him. I have to help him," Meredith insists.

"You want to go to the hospital?" he asks.

"I have to help him," Meredith repeats confidently, a burst of confidence filling within her that she hasn't felt in a long time. She hates admitting that Derek was right all along, but when she saw the man seizing, she knew what to do. She knew she had to do no wrong, even if this man threatened her and her children's lives. It's the right thing to do, and it's important that Zola and Bailey see their mother doing good, even for a man whose intent was to hurt them.

"Derek, go help him. I'll stay with the kids," Maggie offers. "Amelia, do you think you could press this wound? It's not deep, barely grazed the surface. A resident should be able to remove the bullet without a problem. You'll be good as new in no time."

"Great, my mother didn't want me to take this job for this exact reason," the teller moans. "She's going to kill me when she hears I got shot."

"Counterintuitive, don't you think?" Amelia remarks, taking wound coverage from Maggie.

Meredith tosses Maggie her keys and kisses the kids.

"Mommy, you going back to work?" Zola asks.

"I am," Meredith smiles, hugging both her kids quickly and wiping a tear still stuck to Bailey's cheek.

"The man won't hurt you, will he?" Zola whispers.

"He can't hurt me anymore, but I'm going to save his life and maybe when he's tumor free he won't hurt anyone ever again. Tumors make people do bad things."

"I hate tumors," Zola says.

"Don't hate them, Zo, embrace them," Meredith says. "Plus they're kind of fun to take out." She winks at her daughter then kisses her cheek.

Derek watches his wife in awe, feeling completely mesmerized by her mere existence. They've just finished closing on the gunman after diagnosing him with Astrocytomas. She had insisted assisting on the procedure, despite it being a neuro procedure, and in light of everything that had happened today and the past several months, Derek hadn't had the heart to argue with her. If his wife wants to work, he's sure as hell going to let her, even if it's on a patient he would rather see die a slow, painful death.

He knows he should have some sympathy for this man, who's been suffering with the unthinkable. It's not his fault his brain grew a tumor. However, he can't forgive this man for instilling fear in his wife and children. He certainly can't forgive him for threatening his children, and holding a gun in their faces. How could he?

The face of the man who murdered his father circles his head. He was wearing a mask, so Derek never had the torture of being taunted by the ugliness that had taken his father from his life. He feels an overwhelming hostility for men who carry a gun with the intent of harming others, tumor or not.

They never caught the man who killed his father, so he'll never know if the man had a tumor. Maybe he died a painful death, like his father.

Derek marvels at his wife, a far more forgiving person than he ever will be. He remembers the prisoner they treated many years ago, and how Meredith was so kind to him. He never understood how Meredith, who wasn't his wife yet, could be so kind to such an evil person.

It's one way they differ. Meredith has sympathy for serial killers. He does not.

He can't think too much about that now, because Meredith is alive. A seizure saved his wife and children's lives, and that is everything to him. Meredith, Zola, and Bailey are everything to him, and they are alive. Everything seems so crystal clear now.

Life is short. Too short, sometimes. He can't waste time holding grudges and being mad. One thing is for certain, he knows he owes not just Meredith an apology.

He's hesitant to leave Meredith alone with the man who almost took her life, but he's asleep and isn't due to wake up for several hours. A part of Derek can't help but wonder if it was the tumor, or if he's just an evil man. Time might answer that question, but for now, Derek leaves Meredith to monitor the patient to do something he should have done a long time ago.

He searches everywhere for Owen Hunt, until he finds him with Amelia in the attendings' lounge. Amelia's face is stained with tears, breaking Derek's heart, and he wishes for a moment that he had been there to comfort his sister. He pushes the thought aside, though, grateful that his sister has found someone who can comfort her when her brother cannot.

"Derek, is he… alive?" Amelia asks, fear struck. Amelia had been quick to relinquish her role in this case to Meredith, and Derek was honestly not surprised. He could tell from her eyes that she felt the same level of pain as he, in the wake of what had happened to their father so many years ago.

"He made it through surgery," Derek says.

"The cops were asking for him, not that it matters. He'll be able to plead insanity," Amelia sighs. Derek nods solemnly.

"Hey, Amy, do you mind if I talk to Owen for a moment alone?" Derek asks.

Sharing a surprised look with Owen, Amelia says, "Of course." She steps out of the lounge.

Derek takes a deep breath. This is hard for him to do. Admitting he was wrong never has come easy for him. He hates apologizing, because it means he has to let his ego go.

"Thank you," Derek says. "Thank you for being there to comfort Amelia."

"Of course … This day hasn't been easy for her. Of course, I know it hasn't been easy for you either. I was surprised when Meredith was so quick to step up to help. That guy… he could have…"

"...killed her," Derek finishes abruptly.

"You know, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up in your face," Owen says.

"I know, of course not. It's a hard pill to swallow," Derek says. He connects with Owen's eyes and sighs. "I was looking for you. I need to tell you something."

"Oh?" Owen raises his orange brows.

"I'm … I needed to tell you … I, uh, I'm sorry." Derek sits down on the couch and rests his head in his palms for a moment before raising his head again. "It's not your fault… none of it is. Meredith's entire pregnancy was a rollercoaster. She and the baby were very sick… I blamed you, I guess, because I thought if, you know, she had held on just one more day that Eli would have been strong enough to make it… if the stress of us fighting hadn't set her over the edge. It was easier to blame you for seeing Amelia, but I'm the one who reacted the way I did. The only person who should be blamed is me. You're not a bad guy, Owen. Amelia is lucky to have found you."

He swallows thickly, embracing what he's just said. It's the first time he's admitted out loud to anyone that he blames himself, not Owen, not Meredith, for Eli's death.

"I appreciate you saying this," Owen responds. "Really, I do."

"I should have said it sooner. I shouldn't have held a grudge for so long. Meredith tried to talk sense into me, but we all know how good I am at listening. I'm stubborn." Stop screaming and start listening, he hears the TED Talk by Brené Brown he listened to what feels like a lifetime ago.

"Well, yeah," Owen says.

"If there's anything you need, I'm your guy. Just say the word," Derek says.

"Anything?" Owen looks perplexed.

"Seriously, anything. Don't hesitate to ask," Derek replies.

"Well, in that case … well, I know it would mean a lot to Amelia if we could get out of that trailer. Honestly, I've been looking at places because I was expecting you to kick me off your land any day now, but I know Amelia likes being close to Zola and Bailey."

"Do you need a loan for a downpayment?" Derek asks.

"Of course not. I wouldn't ask you for that. I was, well, more interested in something else … I was wondering if I could purchase the land that the trailer sits on and build a house for Amelia and I. We'd move the trailer back to your side," Owen says.

Derek gapes at Owen, his mouth dropping wide open. The land is certainly large enough for them to build their dream house. It hadn't occurred to him when he purchased the land that he might one day have neighbors, his sister nonetheless. He had bought the land with the intention of privacy away from noisy, nosy neighbors, but that was before Amelia moved to Seattle. He grew up watching after his sister, and now they can look out for each other. He extends his arm to shake Owen's hand. "I guess this is where I officially welcome you to the neighborhood," Derek smiles.

"Well, we haven't discussed price yet," Owen says.

"I'm sure you'll be reasonable," Derek smiles.

"And Meredith?"

"I'm sure she will be happy to have you and Amelia as permanent neighbors," Derek says, thinking his wife will just be grateful he's forgiven Owen.

The door opens and Amelia steps in. "Did I hear correctly?" she asks with wide eyes.

"Derek just gave us permission to build a house on the land," Owen reveals.

"Though I thought you wanted to get away from us," Derek chuckles.

Amelia shrugs. "Just because I can't stand to live in the same house as you two doesn't mean I don't want to live on the same land. Howdy, neighbor." She raises her hand for a high-five.

He returns to the gunman's room to find Meredith with two police officers. They're asking her questions about what happened at the bank and the man's condition. "You know, he had Astrocytomas. It's likely it impacted his judgment, yes," he hears his wife saying.

"Now, you were at the bank with your children. Is that correct?"

Meredith nods. "We were leaving the bathroom when we heard him issuing threats in the lobby. I told my daughter and son to stay in the restroom while I checked what was happening. My daughter called my husband, who is a neurosurgeon at Grey-Sloan. We're both doctors here, and we were able to remove the tumor." She looks up then and sees Derek.

"She's not able to say for sure if the tumor is what caused him to act so recklessly," Derek speaks up. "Neither of us are."

"Of course I can't say for certain, but it's a likely possibility," Meredith says.

"Do we have any estimate as to how long it will be before he wakes up?"

"It's impossible to say for certain, but a part of me is still hoping he doesn't," Derek says before he can stop himself. The police officer seems taken aback by his comment. "Oh, did I just say that out loud? I'm sorry. I'm Dr. Derek Shepherd, and yes, I operated on this man who threatened my wife and children. I hope you'll still investigate his background thoroughly and not just blame the tumor."

"Derek…" Meredith warns with a frown on her face.

Meredith knows her husband has every right to be angry about what happened. She's angry, too, that this happened to them, on top of everything else that had happened in recent months. She's horrified that Zola and Bailey had to witness a woman getting shot after seeing a man point a gun at them. What happened is terrible, but it could have been anyone. She feels for the man with the tumor. Even though they can't prove he wasn't a bad person before his tumor, what if he wasn't? What if he was just an Average Joe who happened to one day wake up with a tumor that told him to do bad things?

It puts every criminal behavior into question. How many criminals have tumors and don't know it? She doesn't know the stats off the top of her head, but she knows many criminals get away with insanity pleas. According to Derek, an insane person isn't any less a criminal, but to her, it's not his fault.

"Do you have any more questions for us?" Derek asks.

The police officers share looks. "That will be all for now. We will be standing outside the door until he wakes up and is ready to be interrogated."

She sees a sense of relief on Derek's face, now that he knows the robber will get a full investigation.

"Mer, let's go home. Zola and Bailey need us more than ever tonight," Derek pleads.

"I should stay here," Meredith says.

"We can find a resident to keep tabs on him tonight and update us. Believe me, I'm happy to see you back at work, but I can't stop thinking about how scared Zola and Bailey must be," Derek says.

Her shoulders tense, thinking about her poor babies. Derek is right. She feels bad for leaving them with Maggie, but they're in good hands. Alex had texted her after he heard what happened that he was going to go over to the house to be with them, also; so they would have another familiar face nearby. She had thanked him for being their Uncle Alex.

Meredith pages Jo Wilson and tells her to keep an eye on the bank robber, and to let them know if there are any updates on his condition. She and Derek head to the lounge to change.

Her clothes have blood splatters on them from the teller who was shot when the robber was seizing. She's surprised when she discovers she has a spare pair of jeans and a T-shirt in her locker from before she started showing with Eli. She remembers now. She had worn them to work one day, and they didn't fit after her shift. She'd gone home wearing scrubs that night.

Pushing the sad memory aside, she pulls them up. They barely button. Now that she's been cooking more, she has been eating more. She throws the T-shirt on top, which is baggy because she always wore baggy shirts when she was pregnant trying to hide the belly from nosy passerbys.

"I'm coming back to work," she tells Derek in the car. "I'm ready."

"I know," Derek says. "I could see it in your eyes. Your spark is back."

She smiles, meeting her husband's own spark. "It's long overdue," she confesses.

At the house, everyone is on the couch in the living room. Bailey is asleep in Alex's arms and Zola is resting in Maggie's. Zola immediately perks up when the door opens. Sunny Wyatt also comes meering. "Mrow!" the cat greets them.

"Mommy, Daddy!" she gasps and shoots off Maggie's lap. She wraps her arms around her parents' legs. "I was so worried."

"Why were you worried, baby girl?" Meredith asks, her heart crushing.

"Because you went away with the bad man!" Zola sobs. "I thoughted he'd hurted you."

"He didn't hurt us, but we helped him feel better," Meredith explains to her daughter.

"No more tumor?" Zola asks.

"No more tumor is right," Meredith says, bending over and hugging her daughter tightly. She looks up at Derek and senses a momentary dissatisfaction in his expression. She doesn't know how else Derek expected her to respond to Zola's questions. It sucks that she's so aware of tumors at such an early age, but having parents who remove tumors, Meredith isn't sure what they expected. Of course their children are bound to be aware of aspects of life most people aren't until adulthood.

Alex hands Bailey off to Derek, and Bailey nuzzles his nose in Derek's shoulder. "Dada," he murmurs, drifting in and out of sleep.

"Thank you so much for taking care of them. It means a lot," Meredith thanks her best friend and her sister.

"It's no problem, really. Any time," Maggie says.

"Yeah, what she said, and we fed your cat, so don't be fooled by those big green eyes," Alex says as the cat rubs against Meredith's legs, purring loudly.

"Oh?" Meredith says, stroking Sunny Wyatt's chin. "Well, I am sure Sunny Wyatt thanks you, too."

Alex chuckles. "I think I'm going to head home. You ready, Maggie?"

"Yeah, let's go." The two exit the front door.

"Can Bails and I sleep with you, Mommy and Daddy?" Zola asks, her big brown eyes irresistible.

Meredith looks up at Derek. "Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way. Would you, Derek?"

Derek, albeit somber in his expression, shakes his head. "Absolutely not."

The exhausted family of four heads toward the master bedroom together.

Irene's A/N: This was jam-packed with so many things! I hope you enjoyed this and are still on board for the remaining two chapters. It feels like a good chunk of our lives are coming full circle now. But, After The Storm is already planned out, and while they will be sort of "glimpses" into their future, we promise you can enjoy the Storm universe for a bit longer.

Thank you again for sticking with us, for reviewing and following/favoriting this story, even though it took us forever to get here. Maybe something good will come out of this quarantine, after all?