Because like so many other people on here, I refuse to believe Lexie is dead. I'm just going to write a long AU story, because the grey's universe to me, doesn't exist without her.
This story will consist of random scenes from Mark and Lexie's life, because they really were meant to be, and they should get their happily ever after.
Her eye-lids fluttered. Once, twice, then opened. She squinted, light flooded in, blinding her. Through a haze she started to make out the shapes. Leaves, crumpled beside her and in the trees, so tall they looked like silent giants. Bits of plastic board. A white sneaker, its laces still untied. And more than that, the end of a plane, ripped at the middle, its insides bleeding out onto the forest floor.
Then the aches started. Real slow in her belly, then creeping up into her arms, legs and a burning patch at the bottom of her spine. It was then she truly felt the weight of the plane's wing on top of her. It had pinned her left arm and the majority of her lower body squarely into the soil. She could really feel it now. It burned and she cried out from the sharp bluntness of it. She never thought you could feel pain like this, pain like this without ending up out cold or on a stone slab in the morgue.
She cried out again, this time it came out in sobs. She wanted her mom, she wanted morphine, and she wanted mark. The last thought twitched in her memory, and suddenly she remembered somebody else's cries, deep broken cries, and words. She remembered words, words forming sentences and being said through gritted teeth.
I'm not holding your hand because you're not dying
Mark. His voice. His eyes, right up close by hers.
Hold my hand, she'd whispered.
No, I'm not holding your hand, because you're not dying.
He'd been angry, she remembered, he'd been upset.
But still his soft, firm hands began cradling hers. If she really focused, she could feel his breath up against her cheek as he whispered,
I love you. I've always been in love with you; I will always be in love with you.
There's a pause. She wanted to say it back, she wanted to kiss him, she wanted to tell him that she started feeling the left side of her body again.
Which is why you have to stay alive.
But the words don't come, she'd suddenly felt heavy and light-headed, like she was floating on salt water. He'd continued,
We're going to get married. You're going to become an amazing surgeon and we're going to have two or three kids.
She'd seen it as he'd said it, the two boys with dark black hair and the girl with blazing blue eyes and sandy blonde plaits.
We're going to be happy lex, you and me.
We're gonna have the best life Lex, you and me.
We're going to be so happy, so you can't die okay? You can't die! Because we're supposed to end up together. We're meant to be.
She murmured it again now, Meant to be.
They were meant to be, he had said it. Lexie squinted again, trying to make out his figure amongst the trees, trying to make out any shape of a person.
But the woods were empty in front of her. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she knew it was too good to be true.
You were in a plane crash, she thought to herself, stupid girl; think that clears you for Neuro? She wondered what kind of brain contusion would make her hallucinate. Scanning her symptoms, she tried to pick out a few conditions but her head felt too foggy and she couldn't get her brain to work properly.
She wondered if anyone had even survived. Meredith, where was she? Derek, Arizona, Cristina, they would have come for her by now, wouldn't they? They would be helping her, trying to get this hunk of plane off her. And Mark, she figured nothing must of changed, if he was alive, he wouldn't want to be with her. The thought of him made her ache almost as much as the weight bearing down on her.
The smell of birch smoking and leaf mulch stuck to her nostrils; it reminded her of campfires when she was younger with her dad and Molly, the kind of ones she'd always wanted to do with her kids some day.
She tried to shuffle her head to one side, to get a better view but her neck jarred and she yelped. She'd started to get the feeling back her legs now, and when she really tried, she swore she could feel her toe wiggling against the hard metal undercoat. Didn't really solve anything, she thought, one working toe doesn't help you shift a plane.
Pain distracted her, and now she felt the blood dripping down her forehead, leeching out of her in another dozen places. Except pain was good, she thought.
Pain was better than numb from the waist down.
Pain was you've still got a chance, pain was get this plane off me, sew me up, and maybe I'll work again.
Only it was getting dark now. It was getting dark and Lexie Grey was very much alive.
I will continue this regardless of reviews, the next chapter will be up after my exams in a few days !
