Short story, because no matter what they do with that show (sigh of frustration) I will always love Meredith and Cristina's relationship. And Alex Karev. I can't help it.

**EDIT: I didn't really change too much, just a bit at the end. I felt like the plane crash would have been mentioned here somehow, but didn't want to bring up and Lexi details, because I don't know where that's going yet. And I have a really naïve hope that she's coming back…yeah, I know.

The Last Ones

"Well, I never did know what happened to the morons who dropped out of the surgical programs." Cristina said, lifting her fingers up from the air sutures she was doing, gesturing to the person wheeling Meredith over.

The attendant glared at her. "Bite me." Cristina returned.

"Well, what did you expect?" Meredith said.

"Nothing, I was never friends with them."

"So you had friends in Med school?"

"No." She snorted, as if it was obvious.

They sat in silence for a little longer, looking over the hill, the grounds were fairly well maintained for a nursing home in Seattle.

"Running whip stitch?" Meredith asked, taking notice of Cristina's furiously working hands.

"Hmm."

"Looks a little loose." Cristina only looked over at her friend to glare, which clearly said that it did not look a little loose.

A different attendant called for bingo in five minutes.

"Bingo." Cristina made the word sound like something vulgar. "I did not go to Stanford to play bingo. What a stupid game. For stupid…old people."

"We are old people."

Cristina took a long pause. "But we're not stupid. And if this place started on fire then these morons," She directed her next look to the attendants. "Wouldn't know what to do, and we would end up having to do surgery. Lots of surgery." Her face turned dreamy.

"Should I be worried that you're looking forward to a fire?"

"No. I don't know. Probably. Maybe."

Meredith decided to change the subject, something she had trying to bring up for the past two weeks, but Cristina just rolled away whenever she tried.

"So, about the thing, it's in three days…stop coughing Cristina, I know you can hear me."

"I…whatever."

"We have to go, it's Alex."

Cristina mumbled something under her breath sounding suspiciously like "evil-spawn".

"Cristina, your little pet-name won't throw me. He's one of us, we have to be there, for the kids anyway."

"Oh, you know what, they won't even recognize us, we haven't seen them since there were like what, four?"

"They were twenty-six."

"Well, they had the mental capacities of four-year-olds." She muttered.

"Cristina, I swear to god, we are going to that damn funeral even if I have to drag your ass the whole way there, because trust me, I will find a way." Cristina was silent.

"But we're not taking a plane." She said finally.

Meredith shook her head in agreement.

"Although," Cristina said, mulling it over. "A bus may not be a safer option."

Meredith looked at her sideways. "That's twisted." She added. "Or a train."

Cristina nodded, and grinned. "Hate to be attached to you by a pole."

They were both laughing, because it was so far from funny. Because there was nobody else left to know what they are talking about.

"We're the last two. The last ones left."

Meredith didn't ask her what she was talking about.

"We were always going to be." She said finally.

They each leaned over, grasping the other's forearm in their hands. Because there was something impossible about wrapping you mind around the end.