A/N- Finally, the moment has arrived. It's time to get the plane crash victims OUT OF THE WOODS. Enjoy and please don't forget to leave reviews, they make me very happy!

Eric, a short yet muscular man with cropped, black hair was first-in-command of the Coast Guard unit that Owen had joined and he was the one that spotted it first: the rear end of the plane. There was half an engine, a wing, and blood on the ground. That was how Owen knew that they had reached their destination. There was no Cristina though… no Cristina or Derek or Meredith… no Mark or Arizona or Lexie… and it was like all of Owen's worst fears were validated.

They're dead. They're all dead, he thought to himself and when the other members of Search and Rescue looked at him, Owen realized that he had said the words aloud.

"Now, come on, Hunt. We don't know that yet," Eric said. "That was only like, a quarter of the plane. The rest of it has to be around here somewhere."

Owen walked across the helicopter to the trap door and swung it open. With Eric's help, he shined the brightest searchlight available down into the forest which was growing darker by the minute. It was like there was nothing but trees.

"I think I see something… another piece of plane wreckage over here," Eric said and Owen looked. Eric was right but there were still no clues except for dried blood… dried blood but no bodies.

Eric looked hopeful though. "Well, you know what that means!"

"That their bodies are dust?" Owen guessed; he always heard that was what happened in plane crashes… pink dust just like in a bomb explosion…

"It means that they were hurt but whoever was bleeding here was alive… at least enough to get up and walk away from the scene," Eric said.

That was true. Owen continued shining the searchlight and he was pretty sure he could see movement. The question was… was it an animal or a person? And if it was a person, was it one of their surgeons? What if this was a totally different plane crash? How common were they?

"Bring me in closer," Owen said and Eric yelled something to the helicopter pilot. Slowly, the chopper began sinking, closer to the trees… on the treeline…

And then Owen saw her.

Cristina Yang was standing directly underneath the searchlight, jumping up and down and screaming for help. Her hair was tangled and matted to her head, there was blood all over her scrubs, but she was there and she was alive.

"CRISTINA!" Owen screamed out of the chopper as loud as he could. He turned around frantically and faced Eric. "WE GOTTA GET DOWN THERE, THAT'S HER! THAT'S MY WIFE!"

"Is there landing space?" Eric asked.

"We'll make some," Owen said and then stuck his head out of the door again. "CRISTINA, IS THERE ROOM TO LAND?!"

"HELP!" Cristina continued to wail like she had not heard him at all. "OWEN, HELP!"

"Drop a ladder," Owen said and Eric did as he was told immediately. "Cristina, can you climb?"

Apparently she could because as soon as the ladder was secured, Cristina nearly threw herself onto it. She was weak and clumsy and almost fell numerous times but she made her way up the ladder and when she was only steps from the top, Owen reached down and grabbed her, lifting Cristina into the chopper.

"Oh my God, you're alive. I can't believe it; you're alive," Owen said and embraced his wife in a huge hug; it did not matter that she was not a hugger.

But Cristina Yang was still in the plane crash. She was screaming and borderline violent, pushing Owen away like he was the plague. "GET OUT! HELP! HELP US!"

"It's okay, you're safe. We have you; you're safe now," Owen promised and then passed Cristina over to the paramedics who began securing her to a rescue board and hooking her up to oxygen. "Is anyone else alive?"

"Lexie… get Lexie now," Cristina gasped and pulled an oxygen mask off of her face.

"Lexie's alive?!"

Cristina shook her head and then nodded. "She's gonna die, she's gonna die, I tried… she's barely… um… hurt bad and I tried… oh, God… he's dead; they were… I tried…"

"Okay, how are we going to do this?" Owen asked, looking at Eric again and trying his absolute hardest not to focus on the words that his wife had just said… someone was dead, a male was dead. That meant that either Derek or Mark was dead… perhaps both of them were dead…

Eric's instructions stopped Owen before he concluded the worst. "We're gonna lower the chopper down, people. Tim, Ricky, Cameron, Emma, Luke, and I… we're all gonna go into the field. We'll secure Lexie to a board, then my pals up front will bring us back up. Everyone else will stay behind and examine the others until we can get back or another team can get here because only two patients can fit in here at a time."

"Okay, and I'll come. I can treat the others in the field, if there's anyone else alive," Owen suggested.

"No, you're staying here with your wife, Hunt. Be ready to use an AED, though," Eric ordered and normally Owen would not take orders from a paramedic but under the current circumstances (and his emotions), he knew it was safer to respect the alpha.

Owen nodded. "Okay, yeah… sounds good. Just get Lexie, we'll rush Lexie in and then come back for… for the others. Is anyone else alive, Cristina?"

"She's hooked up to oxygen, we got oxygen from… from the plane," Cristina answered, and Owen had a feeling that she was still focused on Lexie. "She has… has a collapsed lung and… and cardiac tamponade but we didn't… do good. She has a… her legs are broken and… her arm and… and burns… the… they might've… she was… coding…"

"I get it, okay," Owen said and put both of his hands on Cristina's face to calm and distract her while Eric and the others dropped down out of the helicopter with their information. "Cristina, I need you to breathe for me. I need you to tell me who all is alive and who is hurt so we know who to rescue first. You've been treating everyone, haven't you?"

Cristina nodded but then she burst out crying and sobbed into Owen's shoulder for several minutes before she was able to talk. "L-Lexie's gonna die… she's gonna die and… her infection… Derek's gonna die… he might be dead; I think he's dead… I don't know… he was bleeding out. Arizona's femur is broken, she's gonna lose it… he's dead…"

It was the furthest they were going to get at the moment. Owen helped Cristina gently back onto her rescue board and secured a more simple tube under her nose to provide oxygen. Overall, it did not look like Cristina herself was injured severely but she did have a makeshift sling around her left arm and shoulder.

"Are you okay? Did you hurt your arm?" Owen asked, stroking his wife's dirty hair.

"M-M-My… shoulder is… is dislocated but… but we… popped it back in and… my… my collarbone is… is broken," Cristina sobbed.

"Okay," Owen said. He could have done more himself, of course, but the paramedics knew how to handle a dislocated shoulder and broken collarbone. Owen stayed next to her as one of the other team members discarded the soiled scrub material and wrapped Cristina's arm with bandages.

It could have been worse. Owen was aware of that. There was a chance that all five of the other surgeons were dead or dying but it could have been worse because Cristina was alive and relatively unhurt. A fractured collarbone and a dislocated shoulder could and would be mended and as long as she survived the psychological damage, she would be fine.

Just then, one of the other paramedics, Jimmy according to his nametag, looked at Owen. "They're coming back up with the Lexie girl. I'm going to sedate if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, that's fine," Owen said but he continued to hold Cristina's hand and speak softly with her until the drugs kicked in and she faded away into unconsciousness. She looked so much more peaceful; Owen had an odd sense that Cristina had probably not slept the entire time they had been out in the forest.

Then quickly, while Eric and Tim were being lifted back into the chopper with Lexie, Owen took the opportunity to speak into the bluetooth headset that he was using to communicate with Webber in Seattle: "We've found the wreckage; we're on site. There's at least one confirmed fatality and one confirmed survivor. I have Cristina next to me, talking."

But Owen did not stick around to listen for Webber's reply. The paramedics were back and with them, secured to a rescue board, was a broken Lexie Grey.

Owen had seen a lot of broken people throughout his years as a surgeon- both in Iraq and in America but this was still a shock to the system. Lexie's skin was pale white, she was covered in lacerations and blood, and three of her four limbs were sticking out at odd angles because of her fractures. Lexie's teeth were red which suggested that she had been vomiting blood and her scrub pants were soiled with urine and feces. Most hauntingly, there was a huge chunk missing from Lexie's scalp and it looked like she had been attacked by a wild animal.

"We've got to get her to the nearest hospital right away," Eric said as the helicopter rose back into the sky. "We're gonna fly everyone to Boise, okay? It's much closer than Seattle and once they're stabilized, we can talk about transferring them."

"Yeah, okay," Owen agreed; he knew that Lexie did not have time for anything else. "Is there someone else coming for the others… Arizona and Derek, if he's still alive?"

"I'm paging the other units now. I think most of them are closer to Seattle so we'll fly back after this and see if they need us," Eric said. "I've got the location mapped in our GPS now."

The entire way to Boise, Owen alternated between Cristina and Lexie. He technically was not allowed to treat the former because of his relationship to her but there was only one doctor aboard. Owen checked his wife's vitals constantly; they were not completely stable- her blood pressure was high at 148/92 and her temperature sat at 102.8 degrees.

Lexie was worse off though, so Owen tried to spend most of his time with her. She was so fragile and if Owen did not know better, he would have thought that she was dead. But Little Grey was a fighter- her heart was hanging in there with a pace of 72/35 and it would hopefully go up soon. Lexie was being pumped full of oxygen and fluids. She would, without a doubt, need emergency surgery.

They were halfway to Boise when Lexie's pulse bottomed out and her heart rate monitor began flashing as she coded.

"NO, DON'T YOU DARE!" Owen yelled and he began performing CPR while at the same time, shouting instructions at the paramedics. "GET THE PADDLES READY! CHARGE TO 250!"

"Charged and ready," Jimmy assured him.

"Okay, CLEAR!"

Lexie's body jerked limply upward as her heart was zapped and Owen stared at the monitor. "Any change?"

"Nothing, still in v-fib!"

Owen cursed. "Okay, charge to 300! CLEAR!"

Lexie's heart was electrocuted for a second time and the monitor's beeping slowed.

"We've got her back. Pulse is weak but it's there," Jimmy confirmed.

Owen sighed with relief and tried to pressure the helicopter to move faster with his mind; they had literally gotten to Lexie at the last available moment and she did not have long without proper medical treatment.

As soon as the chopper landed on the roof of Boise Memorial, Owen swung open the door and helped roll Lexie out on her gurney. There were doctors waiting and Owen tried not to think about the fact that Boise needed help operating on conjoined twins in the first place. Hopefully, their general surgeons were of better caliber.

"Alexandra Grey, 28-year-old female, unconscious and unstable!" Owen reported to the Boise staff. He was glad to see Dr. Sheehan in front; she was their chief of surgery. "Blunt trauma to the lower half, crushed tibias, pelvic fracture, multiple burns, and damage to the left arm and chest! Get her to CT right away, you hear me?!"

"Yes, Dr. Hunt," Dr. Sheehan said. "Was she conscious when you found her?"

"No, she hasn't been awake in almost a day apparently and she crashed on the way here but we got her back. Pulse is 46 and dropping," Owen said and that was enough; Dr. Sheehan took hold of the gurney and rushed Lexie inside.

Another surgeon, Dr. Wong according to his nametag, was right behind. "Anyone else?"

"We've got one more here and then we're going back to see," Owen said as Cristina was unloaded from the helicopter. "Cristina Yang, 33-year-old female, sedated in route due to agitation and paranoia. Her only traumas are to the left collarbone and shoulder but she's extremely dehydrated and exhausted; be prepared for an extreme psychiatric response. Pulse is high but stable."

"Don't worry; we've got her from here, Dr. Hunt. I know she's your wife; we'll take good care of her," Dr. Wong said and then pushed Cristina inside the hospital.

Owen wanted to follow them; he wished that he could hold Cristina's hand in the emergency room but there was not time for that. There was a good chance that someone else, maybe Arizona, was still alive so he turned around and jumped back into the chopper which promptly took off again.

This time, there was no trouble finding the crash site and sure enough, none of the other rescue teams had arrived yet. As Eric headed back down to the scene, Owen paged them again and cancelled his earlier request. If Derek or Arizona were still alive, then they could fit into this helicopter and there was no need to call other medical staff away from patients that were breathing.

Eric and Tim were only gone for a matter of minutes but every second was torture for Owen; he was seriously contemplating leaping out of the chopper himself. He was a trauma surgeon; he wanted to be the first-responder, the one that ran around and determined what could be done to save his people.

Suddenly, before Owen could see anything, there was a shrill screaming and crying from below. Owen ran over to the door of the helicopter just as Eric made his way back inside, stabilizing Arizona Robbins as he moved. She was dirty and covered with blood and vomit as well but she was alert- or alert enough to scream anyway.

"Arizona, you're okay. We've got you now, okay? You're going to the hospital," Owen said.

Cristina had been right about the leg- Arizona's left femur was open, exposed, and bleeding badly but that was not the worst part. The worst part was the fact that dozens of bugs were feasting on Arizona's leg; huge chunks of tissue had been eaten out of it. With the paramedics' help, Owen got his pediatric surgeon set-up on oxygen and fluids and then pumped some pain medication into her as well.

There was no use asking questions about her injuries or the others- Arizona could not focus on anything except for her pain so once Owen took her vitals, he gave the word for sedation. Her temperature was high at 103.9 but her blood pressure was stable enough at 156/98 and there was no point in letting her suffer.

Despite Arizona's condition, there was room for one more patient and according to some of the other Coast Guard soldiers below, they had been able to find an unsteady pulse on the carotid of Derek Shepherd. Arizona was sedated anyway so they took a few extra minutes to load Derek into the chopper.

The latter was unconscious, white as a sheet, and drenched in cold sweat. There was so much blood that Derek's scrubs appeared red instead of blue. Owen's first thought was that his Chief of Neurosurgery had to be deceased; no one could survive this, not for four days…

"Derek? Derek, we've got you," Owen said and went to hold his friend's hand but instead, found a mess of mangled skin and blood with bone sticking out. Someone, likely Cristina, had clearly tried to mend his injury without much success.

As Owen was taking his vitals, Derek shifted slightly and for a moment, Owen prayed that he was regaining consciousness. If Derek was awake, though, all he managed to do before passing out again was cough and blood spilled out of his mouth.

"You're going to be fine," Owen repeated because he had a feeling that Derek could hear him, somehow. "Just hang in there, we're getting you to the hospital."

But there was so much blood. Not only was Derek's hand a mess but there was an open head wound that had been dressed in dirty scrub material. How had Derek not bled to death already?

"Keep pressure on that hand," Owen told Eric. He did as he was told and in the process, inserted several needles into Derek's arms to provide him with fluids and antibiotics. A clear oxygen mask was placed over his face.

Halfway to the hospital this time, it was the heart rate monitor that was attached to Derek's chest that started beeping in alarm. His vitals were terrible in every direction. Derek's temperature was raging at 105.5 degrees; he was in serious danger of crashing from that alone but his blood pressure was sky high at 184/122. He had a pulse of 130.

Luckily, there were more surgeons waiting on the roof of Boise when the chopper landed and Owen recognized one of them as an old colleague named Dr. Olsen. He knew that he could be trusted with anything so unloaded Derek who was currently on the verge of respiratory distress.

"Derek Shepherd, 45-year-old male, trauma to the head, left hand and abdomen. Pulse is 130, BP 184/122, and a temperature of over 105. Straight to CT, understand?" Owen said.

"Understood," Dr. Olsen agreed; he knew Derek, too and would doubtlessly take care of him.

Arizona was right behind on her gurney and another female doctor that looked similar to Cristina in some ways was here and ready; her name tag read Dr. Lee.

"Arizona Robbins, 39-year old female, open fracture of the left femur and a lot of infection, dehydration, and shock. Do what you can to save the leg but save her life first," Owen told Dr. Lee who nodded and took over.

The third and last trip back to the crash was significantly more somber. Owen had not received an official word on Meredith but Cristina had told him that a male was dead and Derek had been alive; that could only mean one thing when it came to Mark. Plus, if Meredith or Mark had been salvageable, Eric admitted that one of the other Coast Guard soldiers would have likely notified him from the scene. They would not have allowed Owen to cancel his request for additional help. And Cristina had been unable to speak about her best friend.

Still, Owen wanted to be there when they retrieved the bodies of his surgeons. He wanted to personally see each and every one of them come out of the forest with his own eyes so he could accurately report back to Webber.

"Is there a preference on who we bring up first?" Eric asked when the chopper arrived.

Owen started to shake his head but then he stopped. He felt a certain obligation to Cristina, who had been left to treat all of her friends alone, who had possibly watched her best friend die. Owen changed his mind and nodded. "Er… yes, get the girl. Get Meredith."

It was quiet below with no frantic movement to be heard but when the paramedics pushed the board with Meredith's body strapped onto it into the helicopter, Owen realized that her chest was rising and falling, ever so slightly.

"She's alive!" Eric said, the shock clear in his tone. "She's unconscious, and has an irregular heartbeat but she's hanging in there."

Some of the ultimate terror rushed out of Owen's chest. Meredith Grey was pale, emaciated, her skin and scrubs drenched in a mixture of blood and vomit, but she was alive. Owen quickly hooked her up to the proper machines, providing her with fluids and oxygen because she was barely breathing. Thick, red blood was running down the side of her head even though the wound itself had to be several days old.

"Meredith?" Owen whispered and held her hand as her vitals were taken. "Meredith, don't worry; we've got you. We're taking you back to the hospital. You're going to be fine; do you understand?"

Meredith did not respond but that was okay. She was going to get stabilized; Owen would make sure of it. He took her temperature- it was high, just like everyone's, 103.6 and her blood pressure sat at 157/99, her pulse rocketing up and down.

Owen was beginning to run some antibiotics when the last of the paramedics jumped into the helicopter, loading Mark's body onto the other gurney. Owen tried not to look at him, there was no point in watching a corpse when Meredith's life could still be saved, but all of a sudden, a familiar voice was speaking in a weak tone.

"Rambo… it's… it's about time you… showed up."

"Mark," Owen said and pushed his way through to the other side of the chopper. "Oh, God, you're… alive."

"I mean… I think so or else… or else we're all… dead," Mark sighed.

"Yeah… yeah, don't worry, okay? We've got you all; you're all alive and we're taking you to Boise Memorial right now. How are you feeling?" Owen asked.

Mark blinked a few times; it was probably a method of shrugging. "I… I don't know, I… I've been better but… Lexie… where's Lexie?"

"Lexie's already at the hospital. She was hurt worst so we took her first but don't worry, she's alive. Everyone is alive," Owen promised. "Now try to relax; we need to take your vitals and get you hydrated, okay?"

"A little air… would be nice, too," Mark requested so Owen put the last oxygen mask on his face. He wondered what Cristina meant when she said that someone was dead.

That did not matter now. All that mattered was that the surgeons were alive; they were all alive, somehow. Mark had a fever (103.8) and his heart was going too fast (152/105) but he was going to be fine, in all likelihood.

For the last time, the helicopter landed on the roof of Boise and Dr. Perry was waiting with a surprised look on his face. "More survivors?"

"These are the last two," Owen said and pushed Meredith's gurney in his direction. "Meredith Grey, 34-year-old female, trauma to the head, abdomen, and left thigh… severe dehydration and infection; she was unconscious on the scene with an irregular heartbeat and respiratory distress."

"Ellis Grey's little girl," Dr. Perry realized and Owen nodded. Meredith was promptly rushed inside; several other residents joined Dr. Perry as well.

In the end, there was only one doctor left and that was Dr. Smyth who appeared just as shocked to see that all six surgeons had made it- or made it out of the woods.

"Mark Sloan, 44-year-old male with hypertension, infection, and trauma to the right ankle. Extensive burns on the right side of abdomen and hip, at least two fractured ribs," Owen reported as he let go of the gurney. "I want a CT done right away, just in case."

"You got it, Dr. Hunt," Dr. Smyth said and pushed Mark inside.

Slowly, Owen followed her. He was not sure how he had done it- or more, how they had done it and managed to survive out there for four days. Living after a plane crash was uncommon in itself. They were here though and now it was time to save their lives. Now it was time to spread the news.

Owen dialed Webber's number and the former chief answered after one ring. "Is it Cristina? Is she the only one alive?"

"No," Owen said and then he could not help it; he started sobbing with relief. "They're all alive… they're all alive and at Boise. I don't know if they'll make it much longer, their injuries and infections are extensive, especially Lexie and Derek but… but they're hanging in there. They made it here. I can… I can give you a rundown."

HALLELUJAH. They are finally out of the woods! This is not even close to the end of the story though. (Basically it's just the end of the beginning lol) Now the road to recovery starts, physically and mentally. Hope you enjoyed the positive turn of events… everything will not be perfect from here on out but it should never be as depressing as it was before! Thank you SO much to everyone for reading and reviewing; it literally means so much to me. Love you all… stay tuned for chapter 11 coming soon! Xoxo, merderpedia :)