Author's Note- Thank you so much for all of the continued support for this story! This chapter is going to consist of updates from the other plane crash survivors. The first part of the chapter is from Arizona's POV and then the next part is from Mark's POV and the last is from Cristina's POV. Don't worry, this is not a permanent thing and MerDer will be back soon.
Also, I know that so far this story might not seem to have much plot; it's just ongoing suffering but trust me, I have an entire outline in place and this story is going to go through what would be the Grey's Anatomy season 9 finale. With that being said, I hope you enjoy!
Arizona had scared the resident who first told her that she was being flown back to Seattle from Boise. She had wanted to be transferred, of course; Arizona was more than eager to get away from the pathetic excuse for a hospital that was Boise Memorial but not like this. Arizona wanted to be driven back to Seattle, in a car or perhaps a bus. Arizona would have gladly gotten on board a train… but an aircraft?
It was out of the question and Arizona had screamed and whined about it for so long that Dr. Lee eventually had to increase her morphine and knock her out. When Arizona woke-up, she was fully intending on continuing her argument but to her surprise, found herself in a completely new ICU room. Callie was asleep in a nearby recliner.
Blinking a few times from the drowsiness, Arizona cleared her throat and when that did not work, spoke as loudly as she could: "Callie…"
Immediately, her wife opened her eyes and grinned huge. "Hey! You're awake. How are you feeling?"
"What happened?" Arizona asked, not bothering to answer Callie's question. "Did they switch me to another room? They should have talked with me about it first."
Callie laughed. "They didn't need to talk with you about it, silly. You'd been asking to go for days. You're back home; you're in Seattle."
Arizona looked around. Now that she thought about it, the room setup and decorations were oddly familiar. She was a patient in the ICU that she had worked in for years. "H-How did we get here?"
"We flew," Callie admitted. "Don't worry; you were sedated the whole time. Everyone was… or all the survivors were, anyway. I wish I could have been sedated; let me tell you but… but there was no other option because of your leg."
"I see," Arizona said. She had a feeling that she was supposed to be really angry about this but she was still under the influence of the anesthesia and not completely thinking right.
Over the next few hours, though, Arizona would wake-up. She would begin to feel the full extent of her pain and she would drive her own residents crazy, begging for more pain medication and antibiotics every ten minutes. They never seemed to comply and Arizona screamed at them from her ICU bed.
"This is supposed to be one of the top ten teaching hospitals in the country and you can't even get me a little morphine?!"
"Dr. Robbins, please; there are very sick people here and you know that," one of the residents said at one point. "Can you please try to quiet down?"
Arizona was stunned and threw her hands up in the air. "Really sick people?! I'm really sick and I'm telling you, I need morphine!"
"You are already maxed out on morphine!" the resident shouted back.
"Why are you screaming at me?! You're not supposed to scream at patients!" Arizona yelled but the resident had run away, too afraid to do their job correctly and so Arizona turned to Callie, who had not left her side. "What am I doing wrong? Am I doing something wrong?"
Callie shook her head, a sympathetic expression on her face. "No, of course not, baby. You're in pain and pain can make anyone act unreasonably. Do you remember what I was like after all my surgeries last year?"
Arizona did remember. She had accidentally caused a car crash that nearly killed the love of her life and their, at the time, unborn baby. Callie and Sofia had both almost died during their series of surgeries and then, even once they were out of the woods, Callie had been miserable for weeks. Arizona did not mind because she knew that Callie was in pain but it was still tiresome to deal with…
A few hours after Arizona had woken-up in Seattle, Dr. Carlson, the best orthopedic surgeon at Seattle Grace, other than Callie, knocked on her door. "Good afternoon, Dr. Robbins. How are you feeling?"
"Like I have a broken femur," Arizona said. It was the same thing that she had said to the staff at Boise but it was the truth. What else was Arizona supposed to focus on?
Dr. Carlson smiled kindly. "Yes, I know. That is what we're aiming to fix, isn't it? I'm honored to say that I have taken over your case from Dr. Lee at Boise Memorial. And I'm doing to do absolutely everything I can to help get you back to as much of your former self as possible."
"And that includes keeping my leg, correct?" Arizona confirmed.
"Well, like I said, I'm going to do everything possible. I can never guarantee anything and you know that; you're a surgeon, too, but I will do everything I can to save your leg. Still, I think you would rather lose your leg than your life; am I right?" Dr. Carlson assumed.
Maybe it should have been an easy decision to make. Arizona had told patients that same thing countless times: I know the thought of losing your leg seems terrible now but it is amazing what they can do with prosthetics these days. It's better to lose your leg than your life. Trust me, you will be able to live a fairly normal life, even without one of your limbs.
Everything was different now that Arizona was the patient though. She did not care how amazing prosthetics had become… she wanted to keep her leg. She needed to keep her leg.
Throughout the afternoon, Arizona spent a lot of time talking with a lot of doctors. Dr. Carlson was always in and out, but some of the other orthopedic attendings and residents were around, too… consulting, learning, and not doing a very good job of hiding their thoughts.
Whenever there were not additional faces in the room, Arizona tried to communicate with Callie but it was hard. It seemed like Callie was trying to do everything she could, too, to avoid the subject of potential amputation.
Finally, after hours of listening to various treatment plans, Arizona was put on a strong course of fresh antibiotics- vancomycin this time. And then she and Callie were left alone.
"Be honest with me," Arizona said to her wife. "Do you think they're going to try and amputate my leg?"
"They're probably going to suggest it again because honestly, I do think it's the best idea," Callie said, far more bluntly than Arizona wanted or expected. But then Callie continued: "But it's not the only plan either. I mean, you know as well as I do that amputating your leg now would kill the infection and there would be a shorter recovery process. But that's not what you want to do and… and that's okay."
According to Arizona, Callie still did not sound convincing but they were suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice that had arrived in their doorway… so much for being alone.
"Hey."
It was Alex Karev… Alex Karev, who was supposed to be the pediatric surgeon on that plane. Alex Karev, who should be lying here in this bed, considering his options…
"Hey," Arizona choked out in return and did everything she could to not meet his eyes.
"Uh, sorry I haven't been around," Alex said. "I, uh… just wanted to let you know that I gave, uh, Chunky Stu… uh, sorry, Stuart his intestinal transplant. It went great. He's responding well."
Stuart had been a long term patient of Arizona's and it was going to be her job to finish off his care but now, that was clearly out of the question. It was Alex Karev that was treating Stuart and the only thing Arizona could manage to say was, "Oh…"
"Uh, and I know that you like to do that thing where you bring him his favorite food in a couple weeks when he can handle solids so it's uh… it's Hawaiian pizza," Alex continued. "I just thought I should tell you…"
"Thank you," Arizona said.
There was a long, awkward pause. Arizona had been trying not to look at her former student but curiosity got the best of her and she glanced shortly. Alex's face was pink; it appeared that he was attempting to not look at her either.
Finally, after a virtual staredown, Alex sighed. "I feel like crap. It should've been me on that plane. If I could trade places with you, I would."
"I would let you," Arizona replied and Callie snorted like it had been a joke but there was no sarcasm intended. Arizona's statement was the complete and utter truth.
She continued: "I had that thought a lot, too. And I didn't like myself for it, but I did. I kept thinking about my wife and baby and how you had no wife and no baby. You had no one. I only went on that plane because I was pissed at you. So I kept wondering… I'm only here because he's so selfish and thoughtless. And no matter how hard I tried to make him better, he's still a horrible person. So now I keep wondering why this would happen to someone like me… instead of someone like you. So I guess I'm still pretty pissed off."
Alex was not avoiding Arizona's glare now; in fact, he was returning the glare because he had no shame… because like Arizona had told him, he was a terrible person that should have his leg cut off just as a punishment for what he had done.
Arizona could not stand to look at him… or to avoid him for a second longer; she snapped. "Would you get out of my room?!"
It did not take convincing; Alex spun around and paced out into the ICU hallway. That was not a surprise. Alex was a coward and Arizona had a feeling that if it was actually possible for them to switch places, that Alex would run away. He would insist that it was not his fault. He would try to put the blame on a poor woman who might potentially lose her leg…
You need to stop thinking about him, Arizona told herself and she leaned back on her pillows. She tried to focus on the television, instead of Callie whose shock was evident on her face. The television was portraying The Weather Channel and it was telling the world that rain was expected in Seattle, per usual.
It was impossible not to think about Alex though… it was impossible not to think of the idiot who Arizona thought she had turned into a decent person… the person who was supposed to accept the fellowship at Seattle Grace and stay at Seattle Grace for his entire career because he owed that to Arizona. He was not supposed to ditch her without a thank you and run off to Hopkins…
Arizona slept intermittently that night. Part of her was relieved to be home in Seattle at last, with adequate doctors and her loved ones, but it was so hard to sleep when the possibility of leg amputation was hanging over her. She just wanted to know that the vancomycin was doing its job, that the infection was clearing up… then Arizona would be able to sleep off this nightmare.
The nightmares were not over now that Arizona was out of the woods though. During the few hours that she did manage to sleep in the ICU, her mind was flooded with images from the plane crash… waking-up to her femur sticking out of her leg… watching the lone helicopter fly away… seeing Lexie wither away in front of her eyes and Derek Shepherd vomiting blood…
On more than one occasion, Arizona woke-up, screaming and crying but every time that this happened, her beautiful wife, Callie was there to comfort her.
The next morning started out good. Arizona had a feeling that someone must have listened to her and increased her morphine overnight because the pain had subsided enough for her to eat a decent breakfast which consisted of scrambled eggs and strawberry yogurt. And then, around 9:00, while Callie had to go meet with someone that was temporarily taking over her surgeries, Bailey stopped by with Sofia who was extremely happy to see her second mommy.
For a little while, it was almost like the plane crash had never happened. Arizona ignored any pain that she felt because the existence of her daughter was much more important. It was not until Callie had returned from her conference and Bailey was preparing to take Sofia back to daycare that reality hit Arizona. Something had to change.
"You need to take her to the park more."
No, it had absolutely nothing to do with the approaching surgeries that could determine Arizona's future but this was what was on her mind. Callie looked confused so the former continued: "She goes from that apartment to the daycare. She's indoors all day."
"Okay, yeah…" Callie began but now Arizona could not stop.
"We should… we should get a house."
"Whoa, slow down…"
"Then she could have a yard and she doesn't have to be inside all the time…"
"Hey!" Callie interrupted Arizona's ongoing rant. "Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?"
Arizona sighed and barely kept the tears inside because there was something in Callie's face that told her the truth and the truth was, that nobody had really formulated a plan for Arizona. No one other than Arizona had honestly talked about treatment that did not include amputation. She was suddenly so afraid that the vancomycin was not doing anything for her infection and that after all this work, she was going to have her leg chopped off.
"Do we have a plan yet?" Arizona whispered and Callie only stared at her wife. "Do we?"
"We… are waiting for the infection to improve and then we will know what options we have," Callie said in a voice so level that it sounded fake.
"Well, if the vancomycin isn't working, then put me on colistin. It'll be stronger," Arizona instructed.
Callie sighed, too. "I understand that it's hard to… to just…"
"No, you don't!" Now it was Arizona's turn to interject. "You don't because you know what your life is going to be. You know if you're going to take her to the park or if you're gonna stand at an OR table again!"
"You will," Callie insisted. "Of course you will."
"I know what my options are," Arizona continued. "And the longer we wait, the more that my vascularity diminishes, the more the nerves die, the more the muscle atrophies, and then there's only one option left!"
Callie was an outstanding orthopedic surgeon and she had to know this but she continued to shake her head. "Okay, we are so far from that happening…"
"D-Do something, Callie! You need to do something. Please… p-please don't give up on me!" Arizona begged and she was sobbing now, out of nowhere. All of the emotions that she had kept bottled up for so long were pouring out.
"Arizona, I'm not," Callie repeated.
"P-Promise… p-promise me… you won't let them take my leg."
There was a pause. Callie hesitated and the two lovers stared at each other, their professional knowledge mixing with their personal lives. But then Callie took her wife's hand and she nodded. "I promise. I do. I promise, okay? I promise you."
All of the air rushed out of Arizona's lungs, in relief. "Okay… okay, I trust you."
She was going to keep her leg. She was going to glide down these halls once more in her roller-sneakers. And most importantly, she was going to keep Callie.
Arizona laid back against her pillows and beckoned towards her wife. "Get up here with me. I want you to hold me… I… I want to hold you."
This time, no negotiating was required. Callie immediately crawled onto the mattress, leaned over, and pressed her lips to Arizona's…
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"Oh, come on, doc. There's a reason that they call you the nazi around here, you know!"
Miranda Bailey was smirking at Mark and even before she spoke, the latter knew that he stood no chance in hell. "I am well aware of that, Dr. McSteamy but I am also aware of the fact that you are a doctor, too and that you are two days removed from your skin graft surgery with a fractured ankle and a concussion. I am ninety percent sure that if you were in my position, you would not send me home either, no matter how much you might like to get rid of me."
"That's… that's beside the point," Mark stuttered but again, he knew that he had no shot.
Dr. Bailey only laughed as she turned around and headed back into the ICU, leaving Mark with nothing resembling discharge papers.
It was really stupid because Mark felt fine. His pain was manageable, with the help of medication and he was very eager to get home and help Callie with Sofia. He was eager to show everyone that he was healthy and recovered from the plane crash.
But more than anything, Mark wanted to get next door and see Lexie. Everyone had been providing him with regular updates but Mark wanted to see her and know for himself that she was alive. Mark wanted to kiss her and tell her how much he loved her even if Lexie was in a medically-induced coma and unable to hear anything.
Meredith had stopped by, barely an hour ago. That was nice, Mark guessed… he was not especially close with Meredith but she was his best friend's wife and the sister of his one true love. It was good to know that Meredith was healthy enough to be discharged. It was good to know that Derek was improving.
Mark took a deep breath. He had been doing that a lot lately because when he first wokeup from surgery, it had hurt to breathe deeply. Now though, Mark was telling himself that if he kept pushing himself a little more every day, it would hurt less and he would get out of here sooner.
And breathe… just breathe, Mark thought to himself. It was a basic instruction that came from doctors millions of times but it also happened to be the lyrics to one of Lexie's favorite songs.
Lexie… Alexandra Caroline Grey…
Suddenly, Mark knew he needed to do something for Lexie even if he could not get out of bed yet. He picked-up the phone on his bedside table and punched a few buttons until he was connected with the gift shop.
"Hi, this is Mark Sloan reporting from the ICU," Mark said when Patsy, one of his favorite employees picked-up the other end. "If you're not too busy, I'd like to order some items to be sent to room 404."
Patsy was always a nice person but she was being exceptionally sweet to everyone ever since the plane crash. Life was short. "Oh, of course, Dr. Sloan, of course… and I still have your credit card number on file here so don't worry about that… what would you like to send?"
"Well, let's do some flowers for sure… red roses if you have them," Mark requested. "And do you still have the balloons shaped like hearts?"
"We do," Patsy replied. "They're pink though, not red… but yes, we do have the red roses as well, if you would like both of those."
"Yeah, definitely… let's do the red roses, two of the pink balloons, and then some kind of balloon that says Get Well… maybe something purple cause… cause it's for Lexie Grey and… and she likes purple," Mark decided.
There was some faint clicking as Patsy typed all of this into her computer. "Alright, sounds good, Dr. Sloan. Is there anything else I can get for you?"
"No, I think that's it," Mark said but at the last second, he changed his mind. "Actually, actually one more thing… can you maybe send up one of the warm, fuzzy blankets that we have? Purple's good if we have one… if not, then blue."
"I can definitely do that. Thank you so much, Dr. Sloan and I just wanted to tell you that we've all been praying for you down here," Patsy said.
"Thanks, sweetheart," Mark smiled and then they hung-up.
No sooner had Mark put his phone back on its receiver though, that there was another knock on his doorway and one of the nurses, Jenna peeked in at him. "Hi, Dr. Sloan. Are you feeling up for a visitor?"
"Who is it?" Mark asked. The only real visitors he had gotten since the plane crash were fellow surgeons… Callie, Meredith, and various other co-workers. Thatcher had stopped by once, along with Carolyn Shepherd, but at this point, Mark had expected all of them to be with their respective families.
"It's a woman; she says that her name is Julia Canner and apparently your girlfriend?"
Julia… up until now, Mark had completely forgotten about Julia. Well, okay, he had not forgotten about her but Mark had been so focused on Lexie; he had known since the plane went down that he was going to return to Lexie… honestly, the only thoughts Mark had had regarding Julia were ones where he wondered how he was going to break-up with her.
And now Julia was here, under the impression that her boyfriend was eager to see her and Mark had just ordered an array of presents from the gift shop for Lexie.
"Um… right, yeah… okay," Mark muttered and took another deep breath, readying himself. He nodded at Jenna. "Yeah, go ahead and send her in."
It only took milliseconds, or at least it seemed that way. Mark had barely managed to pull himself up in bed and put on an embarrassed smile before Julia burst into the room and rushed over to Mark, promptly kissing him on the lips.
"Oh my God, baby! Oh my God; I am so sorry. I wanted to come to Boise, I really did but I got pulled into a trauma here and then they didn't want to let me in because I wasn't family," Julia cried. "B-But I love you; I love you so much and I'm so glad that you're okay!"
Mark had never seen his girlfriend so hysterical, so extroverted about her love for him and now was not exactly the ideal time for this shift to occur. Mark sighed. "Yeah… yeah, um… I'm okay. I officially know what it's like to have skin grafts and my ankle's jacked-up but… yeah, I'll be fine. There was fortunately no damage to my face."
Julia sat down in a chair next to his bed and wiped at the tears that were pouring from her eyes. "Thank God… I've been so worried, baby. And I brought you something, look!"
Quickly, Julia opened her purse… a purse that Mark had bought for her… and pulled out a greeting card with an overly affectionate dog on the front. Julia propped it up on Mark's bedside table and grinned. "I put on my red lipstick… you know, the dark red shade that you love and… and I kissed the inside. That way it's like I'm here even when I'm not here… but I swear, I am going to be here for you as much as I can. I'm going to take a leave of absence from Seattle-Pres and everything."
A leave of absence… the truth dawned on Mark and he realized that he could not procrastinate any longer. He had to end things right here and now, no matter how much he liked Julia, because it was not fair to either of them to continue living this lie together.
Mark reached forward and took one of Julia's hands, softly. "Look, Jules… I need to… to talk to you about… something… and I just wanna say ahead of time that I'm sorry."
"Um… okay," Julia said. She did not look particularly nervous.
"I am so, so sorry," Mark repeated. "But I… I have to end this. I have to break-up with you. And I wish I didn't have to because I really, really like you… I think I might even love you… but…"
"But nothing!" Julia interrupted. "Stop… if you love me and I love you, then there is no reason why we have to break-up. Is this because I didn't come to see you sooner? Baby, I… I tried to and…"
"This has nothing to do with that," Mark assured her.
Julia shook her head, wildly and there were fresh tears in her eyes but this time, the tears were not coming from a state of happiness. "Then why?! Mark, I will do anything. I will be anything you want me to be… is this about us having kids because we don't have to…"
"Stop," Mark said and he touched Julia on the arm. "This isn't because of the kids. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just not fair to you or to me or to anyone because… because the truth is, I'm still in love with Lexie. I love Lexie and I want to marry her."
"Lexie, the girl down the hall?! The girl that hit me in the boob with a softball and was in the plane crash with you?!" Julia gasped. "Mark, you swore you were over her! You told me… you said I had nothing to worry about!"
"I… I know… but…"
"But the plane crash changed things?! You guys almost died together so the emotions ran high and… and boom?!" Julia guessed. "Mark, we don't even know if Lexie is going to make it! She's over there in her room, unconscious and on a ventilator! And just so you're aware… you're not always going to feel the way you did in the plane crash! Things are gonna change and… and when you come running back to me, I… I won't be here!"
Mark nodded solemnly. "I know… I know and like I said, I'm sorry. Even if Lexie doesn't live past tomorrow though, you deserve better. You deserve someone that isn't still in love with a dead girl. And to be perfectly honest, the plane crash didn't change anything. I was still in love with Lexie; I have been this whole time… it just… it made me aware of my own feelings."
Julia did not say anything else. She sat there and continued to glare at Mark for another ten seconds, furious and heartbroken, crying and raging. Then she got up, kissed Mark on the lips one more time, and stormed out of the ICU.
That could have gone better.
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Cristina was back in Seattle. That much she knew. She knew that they had made it back to Seattle Grace Mercy Death several days ago and that ever since their arrival, several of her other fifth-year residents had been in and out of her ICU room.
April, Jackson, and Alex had all been initially, thrilled to see her alive but their joy was soon overtaken by fear when they saw the state that Cristina was in, mentally. Meredith had not looked great herself, from what Cristina could remember, but nevertheless, she had pleaded with Cristina to get up and react so that she would not be sent to the psych ward.
At this point, though, Cristina was not sure if she would mind going to the psych ward. If she was in the looney bin, she would at least be safe, in all likelihood. She would not be expected to care for anyone else like she had been for the last week.
It was hard to believe that Cristina thought the shooting would be the worst thing that ever happened to her. And it still might be… she had been forced to operate on Derek Shepherd at gunpoint. At least the shooting itself only lasted for an hour though. The plane crash had gone on for four long days and nights…
Every time that Cristina thought she might be able to return to her normal self, the images flashed before her eyes all over again… Lexie trapped underneath the plane's engine… Meredith running off into the woods to look for Derek… the bugs nesting themselves in Arizona's wound… Cristina forcing herself to stay awake when everyone else had fallen asleep and drinking her own urine to remain alive…
It might have been two days or two weeks since the surgeons had returned to Seattle when Cristina was lying on her back as usual and heard the door to her room open and close. She assumed that it was one of the ICU nurses, here to take her vitals and complain about her existence in the ICU like Cristina could not hear them at all.
And okay, to be honest, Cristina had done the same thing before. There had been plenty of occurrences in the past when psych patients had been kept in the ICU until the drugs made their way out of their systems or their blood pressure went down.
She was not proud of it but Cristina had mouthed off in front of said patients: They're taking up beds for someone that's really hurt. I'm a surgeon, not a junky babysitter. When are we ever going to start discharging these people to homeless shelters where they belong?
Somehow, it was different when Cristina was the patient… when the nurses she had worked with countless times in the past muttered to each other: Never would have thought Yang would be the one to break. The only reason we still have to deal with her is because she's married to the Chief of Surgery.
It was agonizing yet Cristina was numb and she was not sure if she was going to be capable of feeling ever again.
This time, however, it was not one of those judgy nurses that walked into Cristina's room. It was her mother, Helen Rubenstein who was possibly even worse. Cristina's mother had been in and out of her daughter's room the past few days, both in Boise and Seattle but she never said anything worth listening to, and Cristina herself never opened her mouth.
"Hey… hey, Cristina," Helen said, like she had a thousand times before and Cristina let her eyes travel over to her mother who perked up a little. "Hey! You're awake. Good, you can talk to me."
That was pushing things. Cristina had no desire to talk with anyone, much less this woman who sighed at her daughter's lack of response. "You need to get up now. I'm serious, this has gone on long enough. Get up, snap out of it, there is nothing wrong with you."
There is nothing wrong with you? This was a new low, even for someone like Helen Rubenstein. Cristina wanted to get up and scream at her mother; she wanted to run the hell away from this awful, dangerous place but Cristina could not move or speak or think about anything other than being trapped in the woods.
There had been so many stars…
"Okay, this is it," Cristina's mother continued, sharply. "I am not dealing with this anymore. I am not sitting here, away from my husband and away from my work for you when you will not acknowledge my existence. I am going home. If you ever decide to try and accomplish anything again, let me know… or don't. What do I care?!"
Cristina watched as her mother stomped away, back out into the ICU. She observed her mother saying something to one of the nurses who rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement. Cristina wished that she could pick up something… anything… and throw it through the glass window that was separating her from the rest of the world.
It was impossible. Cristina could not move. Cristina needed to get out but Cristina could not get out.
Perhaps it was one day later, one week later, or one month later that Owen came into Cristina's room and sat down next to her bed. Cristina was not sure because all of the days blurred together in her mind but she knew that Owen had not been to see her for a long time. Maybe he was scared of her.
Cristina tried to open her mouth and speak to him. She wanted to ask Owen so many questions… how much time had passed since they were rescued from the woods? Was Cristina's broken collarbone healing appropriately? Were the other plane crash victims all still alive?
Was Meredith alive? Meredith had to be alive…
Not being able to talk was frightening. At least, after the shooting, Cristina had been able to talk. She had gotten married. Now, Cristina could not do anything and it was unacceptable, especially for a surgeon of her caliber.
Owen was not saying anything either. Actually, if Cristina's vision was working correctly, it looked as if Owen had only come into her ICU room to take a nap. He was leaning his head back in his chair, putting his guard down.
Cristina managed to moan softly; it sounded like a cross between a sigh and a whimper.
Immediately, Owen sat up. "Did you say something? Are you trying to say something?"
Cristina stared back at her husband and felt a single tear trickle out of one of her eyes.
"It's okay," Owen said. He scooted closer and took one of Cristina's hands. "It's okay; I'm right here. You're safe. Do you know where you are?"
Seattle Grace Mercy Death… Cristina knew that much. She knew that she was at this dreaded hospital and because of that fact, Cristina knew that she was not safe. She needed to get out. She could not get out…
Owen sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You're home… well, you're at the hospital, at Seattle Grace. You've been home for a while now, for over a week and we're all trying to help you but you're… you're not responding. Do you think you could respond for me? Do you think you could talk to me? I… I know, it's hard but…"
Cristina tuned out the rest of Owen's speech. He did not know. He had no idea what was going through his wife's head and to be fair, Cristina did not either but she knew more than him. Owen had not been out there in the woods for four days. He had not watched as the wolves tried to eat Lexie alive. He had not listened to Meredith screaming at the top of her lungs when Derek had lost consciousness. Owen did not know what it was like to wait for help and then have help never come.
Yay! Mark and Julia are officially broken up! Hopefully that makes up for the rest of the chapter being so depressing lol and I'm sorry again if my writing isn't very good in the Arizona segment. I don't know why, I just have a hard time thinking about things from her point of view.
Shoutout to one of my biggest supporters, Patsy! I hope you enjoyed seeing your name in the story as the gift shop employee. Haha.
Anyway, thank you for reading! Please don't forget to favorite/follow, and leave reviews. They seriously mean so much to me! In the next chapter, Meredith will be starting therapy with Dr. Wyatt and you can look forward to a conversation between the McBrothers and some MerDer love.
Love you all. Xoxo, merderpedia :)