A/N: So yeah, this is just a one-shot. I was watching Grey's Anatomy and yeah this is what happens when I'm depressed by the ending of a show. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything or anyone, since they are real people and are married to each other, but shh that's a industry secret.

Words

There are words you should say, words that are a must. You don't think they are, you barely think twice about uttering them, but in life they are important, they mean something. Something.

I love you.

I don't ever want to live without you.

You changed my life.

Have you said them? Did you reach out and grasp a hand and whisper them? Did you mean them?

You take things for granted, maybe you fall into a routine - you go to work, talk to your co-workers, clock out at five and head home, you're in bed by nine - you don't say the words, you think 'I can say them tomorrow.' and when tomorrow comes, sometimes the routine repeats but sometimes, sometimes it's too late and the words are lost.

Take this scene, it's an everyday scene, we're in a supermarket - the aisles are stocked, the a/c is humming and a baby is crying somewhere in the shop - it's a picture perfect moment of today's society. Well, it would be if there wasn't a body on the floor, her blood turning the worn floor red.

This is not an everyday day thing.

This is not even a monthly occurrence.

This is a one in fifty, gun-related statistic.

Do you think that the man, who is gripping the woman's hand, propping her head up on his knee and gasping her name brokenly, told her those words today? Did he make her feel special for that split second when they woke up, or did he leave those words for tomorrow? Did he take today for granted and keep the words unspoken?

"Stephanie!"

He's crying her name in anguish, look at his face, there's terror there, pure unadulterated terror. He's losing the love of his life. His eyes are wide, like he can't believe this is happening, like today should just be routine and tomorrow he'll tell her those words. But it's not tomorrow, it's today and no matter how hard his hand presses against the wound, he's still losing her.

If you rewind thirty seconds, you can see it happening: they're walking down the aisle, laughing as they argue about what brand of cereal to buy, there's shouting and they slow to a stop. He's about to comment on how they should head back up the aisle so that they're not stuck in the middle of anything, when it happens. A shot rings out and he's too late to cover her, she's already holding her stomach and her eyes are wide. So wide. "Chris?" you can hear her question before falling into his arms, before they both slide to the floor.

But who wants to relive that moment?

See, this is the thing, you have to take in the moments - even the small ones you don't think'll matter - because in the long run, every moment matters, because you never know, it might all be gone tomorrow. Do you think those two - Chris and Stephanie - woke up today and realized that this is it, this is when their life ends? No, if they did, do you think for one moment they'd step foot through those sliding doors?

It's always silent before a storm, have you ever noticed that? I know there's a chance you've heard it, but have you ever been in a situation where it's happened?

Take this one for example, this Chris guy is gasping for breath and Stephanie well, she's just bleeding and every person around them is silent, they're not moving. It's like they're statues carved of stone, marble even and then like the snap of a finger, its chaos. There's screaming and yelling and then there's Chris and he's just wanting her to be okay.

The scene changes as scenes tend to do.

Chris is sitting in a waiting room, his head in his hands and Stephanie, she's in an operating room, fighting for her life.

This is not an odd occurrence, this is an everyday thing.

People wait, some silently, some impatiently, but most hopefully. Sometimes that hope works out, that praying they did, the bargaining, the pleading, it was all heard. They have their happy ending, they have their tomorrow. It's the ones that miss tomorrow by minutes, or because of complications that you feel bad for. They'll never get to say those words.

You never really expect it, the big moments, the life changing moments or the life or death moments because then they wouldn't be big moments, they'd just be moments you saw coming. I bet most people would swap big moments for moments you saw coming, so the outcome could be changed. Don't you think Chris would change the big moments, keep Stephanie in their home that day and never let her out of his sight?

Look at him, see how he's pleading for Stephanie to be okay, bargaining to be in her place, praying that she makes it, do you see it? It's all in the eyes, they are after all, windows to the soul - and Stephanie is his and like her, his soul is withering.

Is he bargaining, pleading and praying because he forgot to tell her those words or because he told her this morning in their daily routine and he can't face waking up tomorrow without her and not be able to whisper them into her ear?

Do you think he loves her enough to whisper that every morning?

Well, if his reaction was anything to go by, then I think we have our answer.

You know what's agonizing?

Waiting.

It's all seconds building up until you're ready to burst and then when you do, you have to wait some more.

Chris is good at waiting, or so it would seem. He's gripping the arms of the chair tighter each time the minute hand moves and maybe waiting isn't his strong point.

Would it be yours if someone you loved was in an operating room?

Waiting is nobody's friend, and yet when it's over, you wish you had a minute more.

The doors open and there's a doctor and this is the moment in everyone's life where your heart stops. Is it good news, is it bad news? How is your life going to change after he speaks?

"She's a fighter."

The scene changes again and there's a hospital bed, which is not shocking, since it is a hospital. There's a seat beside that bed, and in this occasion Chris is in it.

He's holding her hand and you can see him urging her to wake up. He's desperate, he needs her to wake up, needs to know that everything is okay.

He's waiting again - but he's not going to burst, she's alive and that's more than he could have asked for.

Look at him watching her, never taking his eyes off of her in case he misses something. That's love.

Her eyes open and she's looking at him and he exhales and falls forward onto her bed. The tears he's kept bottled up fall free and he knows he can't wait till tomorrow.

"Stephanie, I love you."

These words need to be heard.

"I can't live without you."

Every day.

"You've changed my life."

Because, tomorrow might be too late.

End.