A/N: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE SEASON 8 FINALE.
This is of Lexie's last few moments, through Lexie's eyes. I don't feel that she should have died, her and Mark finally admitted that they still love each other. But anyways it is what it is. I hope you enjoy.
Dying isn't so bad I suppose. Yes, many would say that living might be the better choice. The only thing is that those who say that don't have to feel the pressure of a plane sitting atop them. Its weight crushing your bones, and slowly killing you. The only thing I regret is Mark. I finally have the courage to tell him I still love him and now I have to leave him. While I'm dying I can hear him say how we would build this life together and how we would be happy. I can't stop the tears from streaming down my face, but not for the reason one might think. They are not of happiness, or hope. They are there because I know that I will never be able to have that life.
I won't be able to marry the love of my life. I will not be able to have children with him. I will not be able to see his face again. To hug him, to kiss him, to grow old with him. I now know that I never should have waited so long to tell him I still love him. Because of that folly I am losing whatever chance we had. Yet with all of my regrets I know that we will see each other again. It doesn't matter to me if it takes decades or seconds. Because I know that he loves me.
I can no longer feel my lower half, plus I'm not even sure if my left arm is attached. On the slim chance that I do survive I won't be able to perform surgery ever again. With that thought I shed another tear, I'm beginning to feel cold and tired, all I want to do is fall asleep yet I know if I do I'll die. I have to stay awake, stay alert, stay alive. It's a battle I know I am going to lose, but I have to at least try. As time passes it gets harder and harder my eye lids are growing heavy with fatigue, and blood loss. I no longer have feelings in my right arm and my fingers are growing black. Mark keeps saying that he loves me, and that I can't die. I agree with him because I know that it will comfort him to think that I am fighting.
It's getting harder to breathe, I believe my lungs are filling up with blood. With each breathe comes a wave of pain. Its ironic that there are parts of me that I can't feel, yet some that I wish I couldn't. My eye lids weigh about as much as the plane does. I know that there isn't any hope, I tell Mark to grab my hand once again. This time he takes it. I tell him once more that I love him and allow the weight overcome me. The pain increases and then fades.
Along with it are my worries.
The last image I see is of Mark, the love of my life.
With that I draw my last breathe and shed my last tear.
A/N: If you liked it, loved it, or hated it. Let me know in the reviews.