His hands clung desperately to my wound as I laid in the blood-soaked gurney. "I'm so sorry…" I managed to choke out, trying to overcome the loud sirens of the ambulance. "I should've told you…I should've told you sooner…" His kind, blue eyes were full of terror and pain. The eyes I loved so much. The eyes that spoke without words, that looked into mine and let me know that everything was going to be okay. The oceans of blue that never failed to show the emotions he'd try so hard to hide. His voice shook as he cried out, "CRISTINA YANG YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE" I felt my breathing slow down. "I know that you…you love Emma now…I just should've told you…and I'm so sorry…" I used my last ounce of strength to reach for his trembling hand, covered with my blood. He was becoming hysterical, tears coating his panic-stricken face. His hand immediately clung onto mine, his soft skin pressed firmly against it. I felt no pain. I felt nothing but his touch. The touch that made me feel so safe. The touch that was supposed to last 40 years. He leaned his face close to mine, still not letting go of my hand. "No…no…" He whispered. Oh, how badly I'll miss his voice. The voice that reminded me I was loved and protected. The voice that caused me immense agony and joy through the years. "You've got it all wrong…" His hand clenched mine tighter. "I love YOU and I always will…please baby, just hang on. We're almost to the hospital, PLEASE…" He fell to his knees beside my gurney with his face down and his frantic sobs breaking my heart. I have to keep fighting…for him…I managed to give his hand a slight squeeze to let him know that I'll try. Even if I don't make it. He just needs to know. "Owen…wait…I need to tell you…" his head shot up. "I…I'm pregnant. I wanted to tell you sooner but…" blood was beginning to flow out of my mouth, making it harder to speak. "You'd moved on…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry for not telling you about our baby…" He was too stunned to speak. His mouth dropped open and he looked even more horrified than before. He let go of my hand and moved it to towards my stomach, softly caressing where the baby would be. "Our…our baby…?" His hands were now completely smeared with blood, and I felt myself beginning to drift out of consciousness. I struggled to keep my eyes open. "Look at medon't close your eyes just look at me…please, for us, for our baby…" Owen begged, his voice trembling even more than before. I realized now, I wasn't going to make it. I fought and I struggled, but it was too much. I took one last look into his sweet eyes, full of the hurt that I've caused him. With my final breath, I whispered three words. Not the ones I truly wanted to say, because telling him that I love him right before I died would've been too cruel. He was too broken for that. My eyes slowly fell shut as I whispered to him.

"Take care now."

R.I.P. Cristina Yang. 1974-2014.