Meredith bent closer to get a good look at the girl's eyes, trying to determine if the pupils had blown, relieved to see her focus. She remembered clearly how badly something like this hurt, broken ribs and, judging by how bad the break seemed to be and the way her voice sounded, a punctured lung, and her heart went out to the girl. "Well, I don't want to scare you," she said, gentle, "but it looks pretty bad. Peter's not here yet, but we'll get him. He'll take care of the anesthesia." Carefully, she traced her hand along the girl's abdomen, trying to judge the damage without hurting her further. She could talk, but that wasn't really a clear sign; shock, adrenaline, they could carry a person through some terrible things and people who seemed fine at first could prove fatally wounded. There was a great deal of blood here, but if they were quick, she was fairly certain they could take care of it.

She reached down for the blonde's hand, still watching her closely. "I'm going to have to take you into the O.R., alright?" she said. "We'll get you taken care of. Can you squeeze my fingers?"