(A/N - I first saw The Grey in early February, and at first, I didn't like it. I had gone to the theater hoping to see what many others were, some Liam vs Wolf action. I did not like the ending, one bit. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized what this movie truly meant.

Survival, despite all the odds against you. Fighting for the right thing, even when you've nothing to gain. Helping others, just for the sake of being good. And dying, dying for what you believe in.

I believe Ottway died in this movie. I don't see how it could've gone any other way. He was satisfied with his life, and he knew what he had to do. So this is just what I imagined happened after the screen went black. And yes, I did see the scene after the credits.)

...

"…live and die on this day," Ottway finished, the grip of his right hand tightening around the hilt of his knife.

The large, black furred alpha wolf crouched low to the snow covered ground, ready to pounce. Ottway met its challenging stare with one of his own. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the small pile of wallets, the last evidence that any of those men had ever existed.

It gave him the energy he needed to fight. Despite the cold, the lack of food… people had died with him, because of him. These people's deaths would not go unavenged, and their lives would not be forgotten.

"Mother fucker!" Ottway cried out as he and the alpha wolf lunged at the same time.

Ottway dodged right and swung the broken bottles in his left hand around in an uppercut, leaving a large gash on the wolf's right shoulder.

The wound barely phased the alpha, and it leapt at him again, jaws wide open. Ottway only barely had time to bring the knife before it was on him. It slammed him to the ground, dazing him slightly. He felt a small measure of satisfaction that the knife had pierced the alpha, the warm, sticky substance he now felt on his hand attesting to that. He moved the knife as much as possible, trying to cause damage before the wolf retaliated.

The wolf sunk its jaws into his left forearm. While it mostly got only his shirt, the teeth did pierce his flesh, causing Ottway to cry out in both pain and rage.

John yanked the knife out from the alphas chest, a fountain of crimson blood accompanying it. He rained down blow after blow on the wolf's head, but it held steadfast, shaking its head back and forth to cause more damage to its prey.

With the torrents of fiery pain coming from seemingly every neuron in his body, Ottway did the only thing he could think of. He poked the wolf in the eye. He followed that up by a couple of vicious kicks to the area between the wolf's hind legs. It recoiled in shock and pain, allowing Ottway to free his arm and drive the broken bottles up into the alpha's exposed neck. A geyser of blood spurted out, covering his hands, his shirt, and the snow all around the two combatants.

Ottway kicked the wolf once more before rolling away, adrenaline and pure anger fueling him.

"Do you like that?"

The wolf gave a reply somewhere between a growl and a gurgle, before charging him again, despite its wounds. Ottway would've been impressed if it wasn't trying to kill him. He struck diagonally downward, sighing in frustration as the wolf dodged the blow. He lashed out with a kick, which proved to be a largely futile gesture as the wolf caught his leg in its teeth. The cruel fangs sunk deep into his soft flesh.

Ottway cried out again as the wolf jerked its neck, flipping him onto his back and sending torrents of pain coursing through every nerve in his body. It shook and twisted its head viciously, tearing into his flesh and badly mangling his leg. Despite all of the adrenaline, anger, and desire to avenge, Ottway could feel the strength leaving his body, flowing out like the blood that ran like a river from his wounds.

Images blurred around him, and Ottway knew he had to end this fight, and fast. Summoning the last of his strength, John kicked the wolf with all of his remaining might, right in the chin. It triggered a reflex that caused the wolf to release his leg instantly. Despite this the wolf was on him again. It reared up on its hind legs before coming down with full force on his chest.

Ottway heard his ribs cracking under the alpha's tremendous weight, and he could see the blackness closing in on his vision. He would've probably let the wolf finish him off then and there, if he hadn't heard the sound.

It was the sound of a helicopter, roaring overhead. He glanced at the watch strapped around his wrist. That sucker had done it.

The sound gave Ottway his last burst of energy as he grabbed the alpha's left paw, twisted, and drove the knife deep into its chest. The blade pierced its left lung, stopping just short of its heart. The wolf let out a gurgled cry, and collapsed into the crimson stained snow.

Ottway pulled himself into a sitting position against its back. He had done it.

He knew he would die, but that did not bother him. The helicopter would find him, and all of the wallets. He, along with all of the others would not be forgotten. They did not die in vain. Their lives meant something, as did his.

Ottway could make out the blurred figures of several men running towards him, but one figure stood out, so very out of place among them, yet so beautiful and majestic. It was his wife. She was the only one not blurred, and she floated like an angel, until she stood over him. She put a gentle hand on his cheek, and Ottway took a breath.

"Don't be afraid. I've come to take you home." She murmured gently, rubbing her hand across his forehead.

John Ottway felt the world fading around him, yet he could make out the men running towards him, a couple of them stopping at the memorial of wallets just a few feet away from him, all of them miraculously untouched by the blood of himself and the wolf.

His wife bent down and took his blood covered hand in hers, and he looked up to the sky above. He was going home.