Warning: None. Rated T.

A/N: Mojotom – You still got a couple of chapters to go in this. Hoping to at least getting the story to double digits. Hopefully **fingers crossed**. Also, the more I think about it…the more one-shot story might happen for the S17 lackluster beach scene. ;)

Leann Nickerson – you knew it was coming…poor Mark and his tough times ahead

Thanks again to everyone for reading and giving me your reviews. Makes it all worthwhile! Onward….

This chapter's song title is "Hang on In There" by Queen

Chapter 5 – Hang on In There

Saturday – 12:00pm (Rescue Helicopter – 3 days after the crash)

Mark was loaded first into the helicopter, Lexie refusing to let go of his hand. The trauma hawk doctor didn't even attempt to say anything considering everyone onboard was doctors themselves. She took a seat right across, so she could hold his hand and keep an eye on his condition. She pulled the blanket up to his chest, squeezing his hand.

"How long before we are back at Boise Memorial?" Lexie asked the trauma hawk doctor.

"No more than thirty minutes," the doctor answered.

She scoffed. "Can't this thing fly any faster?"

"Lex," Mark said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She scooted forward off her seat, and kneeled down in front of him. "I'm here," she assured, bringing his hand to her lips. "I'm here. You just have to hang on, ok…because we going to get you to the hospital in no time."

His eyelashes blinked slowly. She could tell the signs based on his paler looking skin and that his strength was weaning that he was fading more and more every minute. He turned his head slightly towards her direction, the beginnings of the corners of his mouth trying to turn upwards, but he couldn't muster the strength to do so.

"I…I…" his voice trailed off as if he was going to fade into unconsciousness.

Lexie thread her fingers through his and held onto them tighter as if she could will him all of her strength. "Please don't leave me," she pleaded. "I love you."

His fingers twitched in her hand, no longer having the strength to reassure her that he would be ok. An icy cold sensation crept up the back of her spine as she looked back to the trauma doctor on board who also bore a look of similar concern at his deterioration with each passing second.

She looked back at the man she loved more than anything, a stream of tears rolling down her face reaching his fingers that were enclosed in her hand. "Mark, please hang on. I love you. I have always loved you...and I always will," she said, sniffling as she took a sharp breath in between her cries. "We're going to get married. We're going to give Sofia brothers and sisters. We're going to be so happy…you and me, so I need you to stay alive so we can do those things."

When she got no response, and his body went still, her panic started to rise. She looked back to the trauma doctor who was already moving forward to intervene.

"Do something," she beseeched.

"Move aside," he ordered.

She only gave him enough space so that she didn't have to let go of his hand. She couldn't let him go. She didn't want to ever let him go again. She just got him back. She had finally found her strength to make the leap and tell him she wanted it all with him, and now the possible threat of him being taken away was very real.

Mark had promised they would be together forever. They would be happy together. He wouldn't break that promise now, would he? Would he?

Thursday – 6:15am (Somewhere between Boise and Seattle - 18 hours after the crash)

"Cristina, what is wrong with him?" Lexie asked.

"If it's what I think it is, it's not good," she replied, fumbling through the medical bag.

"What?" Lexie demanded a little more firmly.

"Shit," Cristina shouted. "I need a tube. Someone find me something that can make a tube," she barked, rummaging through what was left of their trauma bag.

Meredith and Derek were on their feet, rushing back to the wreckage of the plane to see if they could locate anything that could be used as a tube.

"What can I do?" Lexie asked, as she turned back to Cristina.

"Nothing. Just let me work."

"I'm not useless, Cristina. That is the man I love that is unconscious right there, so if there is something that I can do, tell me," she demanded.

Cristina turned her gaze to her, her expression softening only a little for a second. "If what I think is happening, is, then Mark is suffering from a cardiac tamponade. If I don't find a way to relieve the fluid in his chest, then…" she stopped not finishing the sentence.

Lexie bit her lip, but steadied her voice like the doctor she was. "Then he will die. I understand," she returned, rather crestfallen.

Lexie looked down to Mark's unconscious form, willing him to just keep breathing. To keep holding on. She wouldn't let him slip away from her. Not now. Not ever.

"I think I got something," Meredith hollered, limping back from the plane.

Her sister had sustained considerable injuries to her own leg thanks to broken pieces of glass and metal that had lodged into her thigh, creating deep gashes all throughout.

"Will this work?" Meredith asked Cristina, as she passed her a can of hairspray.

"It will have to do," Cristina said, yanking the tube from the can, discarding the contents to the side of her. She paused. "Lexie, you might want to look away."

"No. No, I'll be fine. I've seen this before," she reassured.

"Lexie," Meredith chimed in, "it's different when it's the one you love. Trust me."

She knew that her sister had watched her husband get shot after Mr. Clark had been looking for her, Derek, and Chief Webber during the hospital shooting that took many of their own Seattle Grace Mercy West lives. Meredith had been in the OR room while Cristina had done everything, she could to ensure that Derek lived.

She was aware that everyone looked at her like she wasn't strong enough. That she couldn't handle these difficult situations. Maybe at one time she couldn't, but between the shooting and being on Derek's service of death march cases, her skin had gotten thicker and thicker over these ongoing months. She was stronger than she had been before, and she had to be stronger for Mark now.

"Just do it," Lexie demanded.

Cristina's arm lifted back, before coming down with full force, stabbing right into Mark's chest to relieve the pressure, blood starting to spew out of the tube. Lexie gasped, her hand coming to her nose and mouth, Derek's hand on her shoulder for support. It was the sound of blood coming from the tube she heard first.

The second noise was the loud gasp Mark took, his eyes snapping open and wide, as he tried to regain the air in his lungs. Lexie pushed Cristina out of the way, who fell back onto her butt—a sigh of relief that for now—Mark Sloan was back among them.

"Mark," Lexie exclaimed, as she kneeled by his side, her free hand to his cheek.

"Ow," he croaked.

Lexie choked back a laugh, that he was breathing, alert, and with them. "Why didn't you say anything about your injury?" She scolded unable to stop herself.

"It wasn't important at the time," he replied back weakly.

She shot him a glare. "Mark Sloan, if there wasn't a tube sticking out of your chest, I would jam one in there myself right now with that comment."

He grinned. "That means you love me."

She groaned. "Ugh! Impossible."

"Welcome back to the living," Derek said. "You gave us quite the scare."

"You're going to have to take it easy," Cristina warned. "That's only a temporary fix, and we don't know how long before help is on the way," she briefed.

"Understood," Mark replied through a cough.

Lexie let out a breath. "Don't worry, I'll make sure of it."

It was nightfall, before Lexie felt even an ounce of comfort to lay down next to him. She had been checking on his injuries and breathing every few minutes—driving him insane—but she wasn't risking that things would get worse and that he was going to try and keep it from her again.

"You need to sleep, you know," Mark's voice broke her out of her thoughts.

She cleared her throat. "I'm fine."

"You won't be if you don't get sleep, all because you feel the need to sit here and babysit me," he argued.

She turned her head, her good hand clasped in his. "You have cardiac tamponade, and you need to get to a hospital. So, I will be sitting here and keeping an eye on you…until I know you are going to be ok," she replied. He grinned at her. "What?"

He did a slight shake of his head since she knew he was still a bit weak. "I dig your bossy side."

She smiled, and snuggled closer to him. "Do you think that help is on the way?" she asked.

He let out a strangled exhale. "I do. The fact that they haven't found us yet, makes me wonder if the transmitter on the plane was damaged in the crash. They should have found us by now."

"Great. So, no one knows where we are," Cristina remarked. "We have two dead pilots, a freaking massive leg injury, a cardiac tamponade, various broken bones and god knows what else…and we are stuck here in the woods like sitting ducks to god knows what the hell else is out here as far as predators."

"Cristina," Meredith attempted to try and break her friend out of her tyrant.

"We're going to die, ok. We might as well as freaking accept it…because that is likely what is going to happen," she rambled on.

Cristina broke down into tears, and it was Meredith who went over to comfort her best friend. Lexie had taken extensive psyche courses in medical school, so she understood Cristina's symptoms. It was the same ones she had experience after the shooting. The intense situation coupled with their extreme living conditions of injuries, and dangerous predators within the woods, meant that no one was getting the necessary sleep that their bodies really needed to try and attempt to heal their ailments.

Once Cristina's sobs had quieted down, Lexie turned her head back to him. "Mark?"

"No," he said, squeezing her hand. "Don't go there, Lex. We are going to make it."

"But…"

"We're going to make it," he repeated firmly. "I promise. Just don't lose hope."

She nodded, but she couldn't quiet the fears in the pit of her stomach that things were about to get much worse before they got any better.

Saturday – 12:45pm (Boise Memorial Hospital – 3 days after the crash)

Lexie tried to keep up with the trauma doctor, Nate, as they wheeled Mark's gurney in through the emergency doors.

"He's crashing," Nate advised as the Boise emergency medical staff came running over.

"Oh, my, god," Lexie heard one of the Boise Memorial doctor's say.

She recognized the doctor, just as they recognized them for having been there only a few days earlier to help with their case on separating conjoined twins.

"Help him," Lexie pleaded to anyone that would listen to her.

She tried to keep near Mark, but the emergency doctors pushed her out of the way. Meredith came to stand next to her, putting her hand in her own, and squeezing as she watched them work on him. Nothing they were doing was helping.

"We're losing him," one of the doctors cried.

"Nooo…" Lexie exclaimed, Meredith's grip holding her tighter.

"Let them do their job," Meredith said calmly.

"They aren't doing anything," Lexie cried.

They continued the life saving measures, but nothing seemed to be working. Lexie could hear screaming all around her as well as cries. It took her a moment to realize that the someone who was screaming was her.

"We got him back," another doctor informed.

Meredith's hand squeezed again, Lexie's mouth crying into her shoulder. She didn't think she had taken a full breath the moment he had started crashing in the helicopter. He had already crashed once alone in the helicopter, Nate having brought him back, but as soon as they had touched down, he had started crashing for a second time.

Nate had tried to comfort her by telling her that Mark was tough, and that most wouldn't have survived for as long as he had with this kind of injury as well as the circumstances of where they had been stranded for the past couple of days, but that still didn't bring any relief to her as long as he was still in considerable danger.

"We need to move him. Now."

Lexie recognized the voice was coming from their Head of Trauma, as they started pushing Mark towards their double doors. Their Head of Trauma, Dr. Hart, turned back to Lexie.

"We will do everything we can. We got him," he assured, before turning and racing through the doors behind Mark.

Lexie stood there, and for the first time understood what it was like for her patients that had to sit in the waiting room and agonize over whether the one they loved was going to make it through the surgery or not.

A moment later, one of the ER doctors came to her requesting that she come with them to get checked out while she was waiting for news on Mark.

Everyone's injuries that needed immediate attention were attended too. Meredith's wounds on her legs were cleaned and stitched. Derek's hand was examined and advised would need surgery to fix the broken bones and function of his hand; however, he opted to wait until he got back to Seattle so Callie could preform the surgery. Cristina was treated for her minor injuries, and Arizona required more care and scans to review her wound. There was talk about possible amputation; however, she denied until she saw her wife for recommendation and consult.

Meredith came to sit next to Lexie, letting her know that she had already spoke with Owen, and that he had already secured another private charter to get them all home—including Mark once he was stable to move. The plane would be equipped with the necessary medical transport needed to take Mark back to Seattle.

"He's going to be ok," Meredith said. "Mark's strong, Lexie."

She licked her lips and shook her head. "I should have known," she whispered. "He kept holding his chest, and grimacing in pain, but I was so preoccupied about whether he was going to tell me he didn't love me that I wasn't really paying attention where it counted."

"Lexie, it's not your fault. None of us noticed it either. There was a lot going on."

A single tear fell down her eyes, and she wiped it away, instantly. "No. It's no excuse. Derek clocked all of your wounds without a care to himself and vice versa. I'm a terrible person, Meredith. Mark deserves better. He deserves better than me," she uttered.

"Don't you think that's for Mark to decide?" she asked.

"All I do is hurt him. Even with the best of intentions, I still end up hurting him," she replied, looking over at her sister, her expression despondent.

"You are not a terrible person, Lexie. And, it's because you love Mark so much that you care so much. We were in an impossible situation against impossible odds. Don't get into your head. Trust me on that. Because when Mark wakes up, he's going to need you now more than ever," she said.

She just had to hope that he woke up.

Saturday – 12:00pm (Rescue Helicopter – 3 days after the crash)

Mark sucked in a sharp breath at the pain when his gurney was loaded into the trauma helicopter. Lexie had refused to let go of his hand—which he was thankful for—since each passing minute was getting harder for him to maintain keeping his eyes opened.

He knew that she was mad at him for having kept his chest injury from everyone. At first, he had kept it under wraps until he knew that she was safe and unharmed. Then it came time to find his brother, and by the time everyone had made it back safely and unharmed, he had known he let it go on for too long.

He had wanted things resolved between him and Lexie before there was the chance that he would go unconscious or worse case—died. He wrestled with the notion that it was unfair to possibly unload all of the emotions and feelings he had kept inside for her and unload during this time, but he decided that it was time that she knew his true feelings. Just as she had been brave enough to tell him.

It worried him that she would think his declaration of his feelings for her was because he was worried that he would die—or worse both of them—and not because it was truly how he felt. It had been worth it all to see the happiness, and elation lighting up her features when she realized just as much as he did, they were truly soulmates and meant to be together.

"Lex," he said, aware his voice was barely coming out as a whisper.

Her beautiful face came into his view as she kneeled down in front of him. "I'm here," she assured, bringing his hand to her lips. "I'm here. You just have to hang on, ok…because we going to get you to the hospital in no time."

His blinked slowly. He desperately wanted to hang on. He just got her back and didn't want to be separated from her. His body had a different mind of its own. It felt like he was being weighed down, pulled into a bottomless abyss. It was taking everything in him to fight closing his eyes.

It hurt like hell for him to turn his head ever so slightly in her direction, but the reward had been sweeter than anything he could possibly compare it too. He felt the beginnings of the corners of his mouth trying to turn upwards, but the pull to close his eyes was getting stronger by the second.

He had seconds and in those last seconds of his consciousness he wanted to make sure she understood one thing. He loved her so damn much.

"I…I…" his voice trailed off before he could get the words out, fading into the darkness.

He was still in the darkness when his conscious was restored. He couldn't see anything. Couldn't move or touch anyone, but yet his mind was running a mile a minute. He was hit with wave after wave of memories and feelings. Without his eyesight or other senses, the emotions sometimes felt like they were too much to quickly trying to burst out of him.

In the subconscious of his mind, the first time they had acted on their sexual attraction for each other fluttered through his recollection.

He opened the door to his hotel room, stunned to find Lexie Grey on the other end of the door. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing ragged as if she just ran all the way here from wherever she had just come from.

His own mouth had fallen open, because his shock that she had been so aggressive to come to his hotel room and find him. His meek and quiet little Lexie Grey coming onto him.

"I respect you," she said, walking into his hotel room without even asking him. "As a man, as a teacher, I respect you," she added.

She started to remove her jacket right in front of him, and everything in him tensed. For days and weeks, he had been fighting his attraction and need for her, and here she was just so cavalier in wanting to offer herself to him.

"So, teach me." She let her purse fall to the floor along with her jacket, bending over so she could remove her shoes.

He shut his hotel door behind him and turned back to face her. "Stop!" he pressed.

Her shoes were already off, and she started working on her socks. "Teach me."

He shook his head exasperated. "We can't do this, you're Little Grey, and I promised, and... I'm your teacher."

His words did nothing to stop her. She lifted the hem of her blue turtleneck sweater and removed it from her body. "So... teach me!"

His ability to maintain his control was slipping faster by the second. "Lexie..."

She did him in by taking off her tank, leaving herself only in a bra. The insecurity on her face was what broke him. "Teach me. Teach me. Come on, am I really so bad?"

His feet were moving before he could even stop himself. Then again, he didn't want to stop himself. "No. I am," he said, before pulling her face to his and kissing her passionately.

If he was being truthful to himself, he was in love with her in that moment. She had brought out the passion and the good in him. The want to be a better man. To want more than just what he thought was the only way to live a life—alone and detached with meaningless hookups after meaningless hookups. There was a before Lexie and now an after Lexie, and he no longer had any interest in going back to the before.

The moment he tried to talk himself out of what he was doing by being with her, because of their age difference. The corners of his lips carved upwards forming a grin.

He stood before her in his jeans, his bare muscular chest on display. "You're Meredith Grey's little sister. That means you are forbidden fruit. You are twenty-five."

"Twenty-four," she corrected, scrunching her nose with a gleam in her eyes. "I skipped third grade."

"I feel dirty."

She laughed, and damn if that didn't make his chest swell knowing that he was the one to make her smile and laugh. He wouldn't be able to make himself walkaway even if he tried. Derek being mad as hell at him—be damned. That would be like asking him to walk away from surgery. Both now so engrained in his bones.

He squinted in the darkness, as if he could hear noises and faint callings to his subconsciousness. He started to fight against them. Even in the darkness, he was liking where he was. Reliving these moments with Lexie, the woman that meant everything was better then being in pain and without her.

Something at the edge of the darkness was trying to desperately call at him. Telling him to fight his way back. There didn't have to be the pain and the loss of her love where he was currently at. Here he could have it all.

Then he was smacked with another vision, and he settled back into the comfort of the darkness, ignoring the fleeting pleas.

He winced at first, recalling the exact moment their forbidden tryst in the on-call room had left his most precious body part bent and broken. He screamed in agony.

"Oh, my god, are you ok?" she asked, fumbling for the sheet around her body, having fallen on the floor, after she had just seriously hurt him.

He cried out in pain, seeing stars behind his eyes. "No."

"It's bent! In the middle, I think I broke it!" She cried.

"Get Torres!"

He had felt humiliated and less like the sex god he was, when he had to be admitted to fix the problem so Big Sloan would be able to rise again. He was laying in his hospital bed, when she came into the room.

"Hey."

"Please go away," he said numbly, as she shut the door behind her.

"No."

"Little Grey…"

She shut the blinds to his room. "I'm sorry that I broke…I'm sorry…that I hurt you," she said, coming to stand next to him with her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry that your humiliated. But I'm not going anywhere. I've got a friend that is guarding the door, and since no one is going to be coming in…I am going to climb into bed with you and stroke your hair, because that is what I like to have done to me when I am hurt," she explained, her hand on her chest.

He looked at her like she was crazy at first. Mostly, because no one had ever wanted to do anything for him. Anything as loving and nice as wanting to make sure he was cared and comforted since before his mother had died.

She climbed in next to him, and he found himself sliding over, as her hand reached up to his head, and did as she promised by stroking his head and over and over. Damn if it wasn't as comforting and lovely as she had said it would be. He loved the way she felt against his cheek and neck as she nuzzled against him.

The memory was gone as quickly as it came. He stayed there in the darkness for a while…no other memories coming to his aid. He wondered if that meant he was dead. He hoped not, because he wasn't ready to let her go just yet.

Saturday – 2:00pm (Boise Memorial Hospital – 3 days after the crash – 2 hours after being rescued)

"Dr. Grey?"

Dr. Hart the Head of Boise Memorial Trauma Unit, came up to Lexie, Derek, and Meredith who had been waiting for the news. Arizona was still held in their ER under care, and Cristina had been given something to relax her. Now that Cristina was back within civilization, she had first gotten angry and then comatose. They thought it was best to help her relax until she was back at home where she was comfortable and among areas that made her feel safe again.

Lexie jumped to her feet. "Yes."

"Dr. Sloan is stable for now, but we have him up in ICU. It took us a while to take care of his cardiac tamponade, but we were able to repair. He did code one more time, but his vitals and everything is looking good." Dr. Hart looked to Derek before speaking his next part. "He fell into a coma shortly after we stabilized him."

Lexie looked back to Derek; her eyes fearful. "What are his chances of waking up?" she asked.

Dr. Hart knew that she was asking her brother-in-law, the Chief of Neurosurgery that question and not him.

"It means, it's a fifty-fifty chance that either Mark will wake up, or he won't. And that decision will solely be based on him alone," Derek answered.

"I'd be happy to answer anymore questions you have," Dr. Hart said.

Lexie closed her eyes, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. "I want to take him home," she said.

Dr. Hart nodded. "Chief Hunt has arranged for another charter plane. As soon as it has arrived, we can ensure he is ready for transport," he agreed.

"Can I see him?" she asked.

"They are just getting him settled now. The nurse has been instructed to come and get you as soon as they have him settled," he replied.

"Thank you," Derek said, shaking Dr. Hart's hand.

He left them in the waiting room, until the nurse was able to come and let them know they could come back and be with Mark. Lexie sat there, her hands in her lap.

Come back, Mark. Please, come back.

A/N: Oops I did it again. Sorry. :(