When she opens her eyes, she is standing in the hospital elevator.

Oh, that elevator. That elevator where just yesterday, what seems like a lifetime ago, she stood awkwardly with Derek and Mark, feeling Mark's embarrassment and Derek's amusement and just wanting to melt into the floor. Stories are told all the time about the Seattle Grace elevators, but this was one story she would prefer to have forgotten.

The elevator looks the same as always, filled with notices taped to the walls that no one reads and smelling of disinfectant and the faintest hints of perfume from the previous occupants. Gone is the smell of blood and smoke and the leaf-mold of the forest that had filled her nose when she was trapped under the plane. Gone is the taste of blood from her mouth, the numb feeling in her abdomen. She brings her hands to her face, feeling around for what she cannot see, but it is whole again, just like it was before…

Before her world had crashed down to the ground around her. Before she had felt the plane come apart beneath her feet, spiraling out of the sky. It had happened so fast—one moment she was in the plane and the next she was underneath it. From one breath to the next, her entire world had fallen apart. Just one breath…

Breath. Lexie sucked in a huge breath of air, feeling it fill her lungs like a balloon. She was breathing. She was breathing.

The elevator climbed upward. Lexie glanced at the numbers above the doors, wondering where the elevator was taking her, what was going on. Had it all been a crazy dream, then? A nightmare brought on by anxiety, by the craziness of her confession to Mark? That, too, seemed so long ago that it was almost as if it had happened to a different girl. Another Lexie, a Lexie who was capable and confident and didn't get onto planes doomed to crash in the middle of nowhere. If it was all just a dream, then she could change things. She could still fight for Mark as hard as she could, she could talk to him before they get on that damned plane…

But if it was just a dream, then him saying he loved her…him talking about the lives they had left to lead…that would never have happened. And that meant…

The elevator doors opened.

A man stood there, smiling at her with the kindest eyes she had ever seen. Eyes that understood, eyes that were ready to help. Eyes that knew her. Eyes that she knew.

Eyes that she once had loved.

"George."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, so hushed she wasn't even sure if she had made a sound or if it was all in her mind. Was any of this real? Was this the dream?

"Hello, Lexie."

She stared at him for a second, eyes wide and unblinking. George couldn't be here. George was dead. Had been for years. And she…she was trapped under a plane.

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

He didn't answer. "I missed you."

"George, I—" She takes a step forward, tentatively, one hand reaching out towards him. He just stands there and smiles as her shaky hand touches his arm, then his shoulder, and when the illusion doesn't shatter she bridges the rest of the distance between them and puts her arms around him, hugging the best friend she hasn't seen in years. Hugging him feels the same as it always did and for a second she forgets about the plane and about Mark and about the bus and she can pretend that none of it happened, that it was just a bad dream, which is easier than admitting the truth, the truth that she's probably dead and has no idea what the hell is going on-

"Lexie?"

And suddenly it doesn't matter that George is standing right in front of her, because she untangles herself from his embrace as she brushes past him and runs full-tilt into her mother's arms. They don't talk but there's no need to as Lexie hugs her as if she might vanish at any second—which she might. "Lexie," her mother whispers. "I missed you so much. I'm so proud of you."

Lexie pulls away and sees the tears streaming down her mother's cheeks, feels the ones that are also falling down her own face. "I missed you too, Mom." She's shaking and crying now and she can't stop, and all she can think of is the fact that she must be dead somewhere because there's no way that she can possibly be here, in the hospital with George and her mom…

"It's okay, Lexie. We're here."

But how can she tell them that as much as she loves them, just their presence here won't ever be enough to make up for everyone she's just left behind?

"M—Mark!" she manages to choke out. "I never told him enough, I should have said it every day because I loved him every single day—"

"He knew, Lexie. I promise you he did."

"And what about Meredith? Meredith and Derek? They were finally so happy, I can't just leave them! And Zola, what about Zola, I'll never get to see her grow up and she needs me and—"

"I'm sorry, Lexie," George whispers.

"Sorry isn't good enough! It's not good enough! There's so much I never got to say, so much I'm not done doing-"

"Alexandra Caroline Grey," her mother says sternly, putting her hands on her shoulders. "I don't want to hear that kind of talk. It is not George's fault what happened to you, but you can't change any of that. Don't think about what you didn't get to do, Lexie. Don't. It'll just tear you up inside. Think about what you did do."

"You've given them all so much, Lexie. Look what Meredith was like when you first came to Seattle Grace. She was still dark and twisty and wouldn't let anyone in, and now look at her. Married with a beautiful daughter and most importantly, she's happy. And she wouldn't have gotten there without you." George grins at her. "You got two of the most hardened, unemotional surgeons I know to actually let themselves fall in love and commit to you, that's something."

"Shut up, you're just being ridiculous—"

"Who helped Cristina when she was going through her cardio slump, and was operating on cadavers and singing Madonna? Who gave me pep talk after pep talk when I wouldn't stop moping around about having to re-do my intern year, and who helped me study for my second test? You're the sole reason I became a resident, Lexie Grey."

Lexie shakes her head, starting to brush some of her tears away. "You helped Izzie diagnose herself without even realizing it—you helped save her life even more than Derek did. You've been through so much, Lexie, but you never gave up. Not even when your patients wanted to. Remember Clara Ferguson?"

Lexie looks up, startled. "How do you-?"

George gives her another smile, although now his eyes have grown somber. "I was always there, Lexie. Always watching out for all of you. And I always will be."

"So was I," her mother pipes up.

"You're Little Grey. You're Lexiepedia. They wouldn't be the surgeons they are today without you helping them. Your patients wouldn't be the same either. Once, Izzie told me that I was the glue that held our little group together, but Lexie…you're more the glue than I ever was. You helped them more than they will ever know, and they will never, ever forget you."

She feels the tears coming again, and her mother's arm comes around her. She keeps holding onto George's hand. "Are they gonna be okay?"

"I wish I knew." George gives a heavy sigh. "Look, I'm not gonna lie and say this doesn't suck sometimes. You see them go through situations like this and you can't do a damn thing about it. You watch them make horrible decisions and you just want to smack them. But you can also witness wonderful things, like Callie's wedding to Arizona—"

"I thought you'd feel a little awkward about that."

"Oh, he did," her mother interjects. "It was hilarious. Made my night."

"It wasn't that bad," George protests. "My point, is, you can still be there for them even though you're not. And it will suck sometimes—a lot of the time—but what sucks more is dwelling on every little what-if. You did make a difference, Lexie. A huge difference. You impacted every single one of their lives. They will never forget you. And they will never stop loving you."

"And we'll always be here too, Lex," her mom says, kissing her on the temple.

"Always," George echoes.

Lexie thinks back to Mark's frantic confession of love, right before the end. Of the life he promised her they would have, together. She closes her eyes and she can almost picture the two boys and girl he spoke of, running through Meredith and Derek's massive backyard at their dream house. She pictures Zola's face as she grows up, and Sofia's. She thinks back to her and Meredith's last conversation—something ridiculous about how there must be crack in potato chips, because how else can something so tiny be so addictive—and their first, when she told her that she didn't want to know her. She imagines the conversations they should have had about Meredith's possible move to Boston—

No. George was right. She couldn't do this. She couldn't.

"Are you gonna be okay?" George asks, glancing over at her with concern in her eyes.

She thinks back on George's words, trying to remember the good times and not the what-ifs. Meredith bringing Zola home for good. Dancing it out in the living room. Her first Christmas at Meredith's house. Celebrating with the residents when they passed their boards. George passing his intern test.

Mark telling her that he loved her.

For the first time in what seems like forever, Lexie smiles.

I was the glue that held them all together.

"Yeah," she says. "I think I am."