Gray's anatomy reverse

The sound of approaching helicopters cut through the suffocating silence, distant at first, but growing louder with every second. The thrum of their blades echoed in the air, signaling that help was finally coming. It was a lifeline, but they weren’t out of danger yet.

Mark held Lexie against his chest, her body limp but breathing, though each breath was shallow, labored. Her leg had been hastily stabilized—wrapped with torn fabric from jackets and belts to keep it as still as possible. The splintered bone had pierced the skin, and blood had soaked through the makeshift bandages, but at least she was out from under the wreckage.

Cristina stepped back, wiping the dirt and sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She glanced at Lexie, her gaze hard but laced with worry. “We’ve bought her some time. But that leg…” She didn’t finish the thought, but the grim set of her mouth said it all. There was only so much they could do out here.

Derek, who had been beside Lexie the entire time, staggered to his feet, wincing as his hand pressed against the cut on his forehead. His eyes scanned the horizon, watching as the helicopters dipped lower, their lights casting eerie shadows on the wreckage. “They’re almost here. We just need to hold on a little longer.”

"Are they even going to see us down here?" Arizona's voice was tense. She leaned against a fallen tree, trying to steady herself, but the pain in her own leg was obvious. Her lower leg had been twisted at an unnatural angle since the crash, and every attempt to move it sent waves of agony through her. Callie knelt beside her, her hands trembling as she examined the injury.

“We’ll make them see us,” Callie replied, her voice firm but strained. She pressed her lips together, trying to remain calm for Arizona’s sake, though inside, fear gnawed at her. Arizona’s injury was bad—really bad. But Callie was trying to push the worst-case scenario out of her mind. She wouldn’t let herself think about it now.

Nearby, Jackson was kneeling next to April, who was clutching her side, her face pale from the pain radiating through her ribs. The crash had thrown her hard against part of the plane, and now each breath was a struggle. Jackson kept glancing at her, but his mind was racing, torn between her and the others.

Meredith stood just a few feet away, her eyes constantly darting from person to person, trying to keep her focus sharp despite the chaos. Her hands were still slick with Lexie’s blood, and though she had done what she could to help stabilize her sister, the thought of how close they’d come to losing her was suffocating.

“Lexie’s stable for now,” Meredith said quietly, her voice steady, though there was an edge to it, a crack in her composure. “We just need to get her to a hospital. Get everyone out of here.”

The helicopters were nearly overhead now, the air whipping around them as the wind from the blades kicked up dust and leaves. The noise was deafening, a mix of hope and dread, as they realized help was finally within reach. But the terrain was rugged, and the helicopters couldn’t land easily. They’d have to be airlifted out.

Cristina stood next to Meredith, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the wreckage and the injured around them. "We’re not going to have time for finesse. The minute they get down here, we need to move. Fast."

Mark hadn’t said a word since he pulled Lexie out from under the wreckage. He hadn’t let go of her, either. His hand stroked her hair gently as he whispered, almost to himself, “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine, Lex.”

Lexie’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, hazy and distant. “Mark...?” Her voice was faint, barely a whisper. “It hurts...”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But you’re going to make it. You hear me? You’re going to make it.”

Meredith knelt beside them, her gaze softening as she looked at her sister. “You’re tough, Lexie. You’re going to make it through this.”

Another voice joined them—April’s, weak but insistent. “Is everyone... is everyone accounted for?” She winced as she shifted her position, and Jackson gently steadied her.

“Yeah,” Jackson said, his voice low. “We’ve got everyone. We’re going to be okay.”

The medics arrived with ropes and stretchers, descending from the helicopters with practiced precision. The chaos was overwhelming, but in that moment, there was something comforting in the flurry of activity—help was here, finally.

Cristina was the first to guide the medics toward Lexie, her voice sharp and authoritative. “She needs to be evacuated immediately. Crush injury to the leg, potential compartment syndrome. She’s stable for now, but she needs a surgical team.”

The medics moved quickly, assessing Lexie and preparing to lift her onto the stretcher. Mark still hovered close, refusing to leave her side, even as they began to secure her for the airlift.

“We’re going together,” Mark insisted, his voice firm as one of the medics tried to direct him away.

“You’ll have to follow on the next—”

“No,” Mark cut him off, his eyes flashing with desperation. “I’m not leaving her. I’m going with her.”

Meredith nodded in agreement. “He goes. He stays with her.”

The medic hesitated, but the look on Meredith’s face left no room for argument. “Fine. But stay out of the way.”

As they began to lift Lexie into the air, the rest of the group huddled together, the reality of what they’d been through sinking in. The wreckage behind them was a grave reminder of how close they’d come to losing everything.

Callie watched as Arizona was carefully loaded onto a stretcher, her heart pounding. “We’ll get through this,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Arizona met her gaze, and despite the pain, there was a flicker of hope in her eyes.

“I know,” Arizona whispered back.

Meredith looked up as the helicopter carrying Lexie and Mark lifted into the air, her chest tightening with a mix of relief and fear. They were alive, but the fight was far from over.

As the second helicopter arrived to pick up the rest of them, the forest around them seemed to grow quieter, the sense of danger ebbing away. But the memories of the crash—the terror, the pain—would stay with them long after they were pulled from the wreckage.