𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

seventy three | airplane

"L-L-Lexie. Where is she?"

Derek and I weakly walked through the vast terrain until entering another clearing, one claimed by the rest of the doctors.

Meredith irrigates the bloodied wound on Derek's left hand, while he winces and grasps onto mine. My breathing has grown shallower since the trepid stroll, and it would only worsen without any emergent help.

"Where's Lexie?"

Her bottom lip quivers gently, continuing to work on my husband's arm. And without a reply, the unfortunate news clouds my mind.

"Fucking hell."

Mark is the only one to not be moving in some way. His hand grasps Lexie's lifeless one, whose body remains under the middle of the airplane.

"Let's just keep it together, okay?" Meredith pleads helplessly.

"Okay." I nod once. "Okay."

"Loosen the tourniquet a little bit."

"I'm not letting you bleed out to death."

"I need to save my hand."

"And we need to save your life."

Cristina returns from searching through a suitcase a few feet away, a bandana, a safety pin, and a t-shirt in hand.

Derek slowly instructs on how to temporarily mend his arm.

"We have to close the wound. . .using the safety pin. Weave your way inside and out, and then put the bandana on top of it, and-and tape it."

"And what's the-what's the t-shirt for?"

"Put it in my mouth." He shudders at what's to come. "I'm probably gonna scream a lot, and I'm gonna-I'm gonna-I'm gonna pass out."

His head rests against my lap, and I push his matted hair from his forehead. Cristina passes me the t-shirt, to which I roll and hold it against his mouth.

As soon as the safety pin enters his skin, Derek screams into the t-shirt, muffling his voice but doing nothing to stop the wiggling of his legs.

"Please, just pass out. Pass out. Please."

I beg under my breath while he continues to keep himself still. Fortunately, in the matter of minutes, he succumbs to an unconscious state.

Cristina digs through every crevice of every unopened suitcase and compiles a small pile of useful items.

"Matches. Yes, God. Finally." She breathes out. "Fire. We can build a fire."

Meredith finishes wrapping Derek's arm while nodding furiously. "We should. They'll see a fire. Let's get a fire started."

"Mark. We need-We need to start a fire."

For the few short hours we'd been here, Mark has refused to let go of Lexie, instead isolating himself against the airplane and closing his eyes.

"Mark. Mark! You have to help!"

"G-Give the matches to me. I'll start one."

"No, no." Cristina refuses with a shake of her head. "You know what? He doesn't get to do this. He doesn't get to stop helping. I'm sorry he lost Lexie, but she was Meredith's sister, and Meredith's still helping. He has to help because the sky is falling, Mark."

"Come on, Cristina —"

"No, no, no! You know, if there's one thing that I've learned with all the-the bombs and the guns to my head and-and the buses running down my friends is that I am not interested in dying. I want to get out of here, and I want to go home. And everyone has to help!"

She continues her pursuit towards Mark, only to frantically call out for Meredith moments later. I glance towards them, only to see him lying on the ground with his chest exposed.

One by one, we trudge towards them.

"It's a cardiac tamponade."

"Are you sure?"

"75%. No, 70%. 70% sure."

"70% sure is barely passing."

"Well, if you want me to be sure, get me an ultrasound." She reacts in reply. "We have to drain his pericardial sac and relieve the pressure, or-or his heart will stop."

"And how do you suppose we do that? We don't have an 18-gauge spinal needle or anything."

However, using every last bit of material we have, we slice into him. I cup the oxygen mask over Mark's mouth, keeping him still, while the other three work to drain the sac.

"Oh. . ." I grip the fabric of my scrubs just over my chest.

"Leven?"

"I'm-I'm fine."

"You've got a shard of metal sticking out of your ribs. Of course you're not fine."

I brace the airplane and force myself onto my feet. "N-No, it's okay. It's just —"

When my breath grows weary, the back of my throat gasps for oxygen.

"L-L-Lung. . .collapsed. . .ow."

"Leven!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Night has fallen — our first night trapped in the middle of nowhere — when I come to again.

"Derek."

"I'm here. I'm right here."

Derek holds me against him, against his right side, and presses gentle kisses to my temple. My hand grazes the uneven surface of my chest, bandaids temporarily yet effectively keeping the laceration sealed. The only reason I hadn't died is from Meredith's immediate thoracoscopy.

"Owen has got to have figured out we're missing." Cristina quietly assures us. "I know he sent someone."

Silence ensues once again, until the last of the fire dries out.

"How did this happen to us? Why did this happen to us?"

"I. . .I don't know."