Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy obviously. If I did, the season finale wouldn't have even happened. So here's my way to vent, here's how I think things should have gone. You'll recognize the beginning scene. I've only published this because I needed to get my reality out there, this is what I needed to see happen and what I'm going to continue to believe happened. Be warned, I don't have a beta so if you see any mistakes, please excuse them.
"I love you."
He can only look at her from where he's lying belly down in the dirt, just outside the hunk of metal that's keeping her from him. She's pinned beneath the wing of the plane, the metal pressing down on her small body and crushing it beyond repair and he knows – he knows what this could mean but he doesn't want to accept it. He can't accept it. He's gripping her hand so tight in his own, the touch he'd been craving for weeks – for months. His skin is tinged with dirt and blood (her blood, he's sure) but he doesn't pull away, he can't pull away from her.
"You don't have to say it because I said it." Her voice is barely above a whisper but it roars in his ears, taking over his senses and his heart sinks with the realization. She thinks he doesn't love her. Her. His Little Grey, the woman who put him back together. How could he not love her?
"I do. I love you. I've always been in love with you. I will always be in love with you." He tells her quickly, the words spilling from his lips so quickly that it's probably hard to understand him but he can't bring himself to stop. "Which is why you have to stay alive." He is pleading now and he knows it, the tears are just forming in the corners of his eyes but he can't slow down. "We – we –we're going to get married."
Her eyes close at the thought and he watches as she seems content with the idea. She's accepting what he's saying and it spurs him to keep going, to keep telling her of the life they are going to have. "And you're going to make an amazing surgeon." Her smile appears then, the smile that had captured his attention from the very beginning. He knows how important her career is to her and how much she's been through to get to where she was. "And we're going to have two or three kids."
Her smile widens at the mention and his heart tugs once again. "So, Sofia can have siblings." Her breathing his labored and he hears the longing in her voice.
"Yeah." He smiles back at her. "A sister and two brothers." He can see them now, running around an open back yard with their older sister and they're all laughing and smiling and everything is right in the world. Everything is how it should be.
"That's nice."
He squeezes her hand again, both his hands encircling the tiny palm clasped now between his own. "We're going to be happy Lex. You and me, we're going to have best life, Lexie, you and me. We're going to be so happy. So you can't die, okay?" His voice is thick now, the tears openly falling from his face and he's just barely keeping it together. "Because we're supposed to be together. We're meant to be."
"Meant to be."
He's staring into blank eyes and the only thing he wants to do is scream that she can't leave him. Instead, he reaches forward with tears running down his cheeks and uses his fingertips to close her eyes. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to her hand. "I love you. I love you." He smoothes back her hair. "I love you. I love you."
—-
Mark Sloan wakes with a sudden gasp and bolts upright, his eyes snapping open as they dart this way and that to take in his surroundings. He is no longer in the middle of the wilderness surrounded by various pieces of wreckage, but it still takes him a moment to recognize where exactly he is. He's home, tucked away safely inside the four walls of his apartment but his nerves are rattled and he pushes away the sweat soaked sheets that were sticking to his body.
His bare feet touch the floor and a cold chill runs down his spine as he leans forward heavily to rake a hand through his once again salt and peppered hair. His tired and aching body is pushed upward and his feet are carrying him out of the room and just down the small hallway – and he freezes at the sight that greets him in the living room.
She is swaying gently to the music he can now hear coming from the system nearby. He recognizes the shirt she's wearing, it's one of his that she'd stolen some time ago and claimed as her personal favorite and tonight she has paired it with a pair of his gray boxers that she'd claimed were more comfortable than the pajama sets she'd purchased in the past. Her hair is running freely down her back, the dark tresses tinged with red as she moves beneath the faint light coming in through the window. She turns then, a look of surprise appearing across her young face before a smile takes place and she motions him over.
Mark crosses the room without needing to be told twice. His hand goes to the small of her back out of instinct, he needs to know that this is real and a deep sigh of relief escapes his lips when he can feel the heat from her body.
"You had the dream again?" Her voice is quiet as to not wake the small person in her arms.
He manages a small nod of his head before he leans in to press a kiss to her temple, his hand moving upward to rest on the back of her neck and tangle in the dark locks that are so familiar to him now. Her hair is soft to the touch and he can smell the faint scent of coconuts drifting into his senses, he manages a smile before he leans back and his eyes drift down to the pair of eyes looking back at him.
Slate blue meets doe brown.
"Mark, I'm fine – we're fine."
Her assurance is only amplified when an all too familiar weight is placed into his arms. The little boy looking up at him is proof that they survived that day nearly three years ago.
"We're meant to be, remember?"