Thank you for the review on the last chapter. I strayed a little from the canon in having Owen find out about his liability in the crash before they were found rather than later, but with the way I have this story going, Owen needed to find out sooner, so I hope you don't mind.
This one is a short one, so I should have another up in a few days. I finally got some inspiration on where to go and how to finish this story, so if it weren't already apparent, you will get the ending you deserve for this story.
"Cristina, go to sleep. I'm not asking, I'm not suggesting, I'm demanding. Go. To. Sleep." Cristina rolled her eyes. Meredith could be such a mom sometimes.
She had just returned from the second crash site after checking on Lexie, as promised.
When she arrived, she was pleased to find that, while obviously tampered with, the rock shielding the martyr's tomb had held through the day. Meredith had insisted on coming with her, fearing Cristina would "get lost" again if she went alone and was surprised to see what Cristina had done. "Are you ever going to let me in on what you were up to last night?" she asked, already anticipating the answer.
"No," Cristina replied nonchalantly, pushing back the makeshift door. She leaned into the sheltered area where Lexie rested, completely unphased. "Hey, you made one helluva coach out there last night. We kicked ass." She looked up at Meredith, who looked at her, concerned. Cristina giggled, turning back to Lexie. "Look at her." She gestured with her thumb. "She's so confused." She grew serious suddenly. "I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, but it's for the best of the team." As she retrieved the pocket knife from her coat pocket, Meredith spoke up.
"What are you doing?" she asked, worried. Cristina didn't answer but got to work. Meredith heard fabric ripping, and it dawned on her what Cristina was doing. "You're cutting off her scrub top?"
Cristina emerged moments later, tattered blouse in hand. "We need it to pack Arizona's leg. We're out of t-shirt scraps. Lexie didn't mind. I talked to her." She put the door back in place and gestured to Meredith. "Come on."
Cristina would admit though, she was tired. She had stumbled around on wobbly legs all day just to keep herself awake. She was getting weaker and more delirious by the second, but she had to stay awake. "I'm fine," she mumbled to Meredith as she replaced the old, bloody packing with torn pieces of Lexie's scrub top. Arizona winced as she inserted the balled-up fabric. "Sorry," Cristina muttered, reminding herself to be more careful.
"Seriously. We can handle this, just go to sleep. You're starting to sound like a schizo."
Cristina wanted to scoff, but she had no energy to do anything except put one foot in front of the other, so to speak. There weren't many things she didn't trust Meredith with, but this was one of them. She was going to live, dammit, and she wasn't going to let Meredith screw it up for her. She was just about to respond when Arizona spoke up. "Cristina," she said, eyeing Mark with troubled eyes. She looked up at Cristina. "I can't find a pulse."
Cristina looked at Mark, agitated. "Seriously?" she asked him, her words beginning to slur. "Another effusion, Mark? We talked about this. Just because you lost Lexie doesn't mean you get to die on us. Man up."
"Okay, you know the drill. Derek," Meredith called out. He trotted over. "Cristina, clean the knife with whatever's left of the hand sanitizer. Arizona, grab me that tube out of the backpack. Clean that too. Mark," she said, crouching down to eye level. "You know the drill too. It's gonna hurt like hell, but stay still. Don't move." She looked up at Derek. "Hold him down. I'm going in." She took the knife from Cristina and reopened his incision. He screamed out in pain and arched his back as she made the cut. "The worst is over, Mark. You're about to feel a lot better." She started to reinsert the tube when Cristina spoke up.
"Don't puncture th-"
"Heart. I know, Cristina," she snapped.
Cristina mumbled to herself, "I was gonna say liver, but whatever."
Suddenly, Mark gasped a huge gulp of air as cream-tinted, opaque liquid spewed out of the tube. "Okay, done."
"At least it's just pericardial fluid this time," Arizona said, checking his pulse. "His heart rate is back up."
"Hey, you think leather is edible? I mean, it comes from an animal, right?" Cristina asked, feeling the faux leather plane seats. Everyone stared at her, dumbfounded. "What?"