Title: Come Back To Me When You Can

Rating: K+

Summary: What if Lexie miraculously survived the plane crash. What if everyone left her behind for dead? What would they do if they had a chance to save her life all over again?

Background: I didn't watch anything much of S8. I mostly kept up with it through you guys' fan fictions :) so I apologize if some relationships are out of wack, I'm just writing like I want to write it. So it's kind of AU?

Author's Note: I've been having continuous dreams about ways that Lexie would have lived. I read a case study in one of my classes that talked about a fisherman in Norway or Sweden who survived after being dead for like four hours because the hypothermia induced cardiac arrest allowed for his body to be somewhat preserved. Other than that, I don't know how much of this is medically accurate. It's a mix of that case study and my own crazy imagination. Lol. Please don't take it too seriously..

Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy. The characters and the actors all belong to their respective owners. This story is also NOT beta'd so I apologize for any grammar or spelling errors. Please don't judge me too much for it! :D

PS: This story was slightly inspired by theeyedoesnotSEE and her story "My Renaissance" probably one of her best stories on here (and she has a million amazing Slexie ones) but I just re-read that one and it stuck to me enough for my imagination to take over in my sleep. This is only a three part-er. I already have it all planned out. I'm hoping there's enough of an interest here for me to keep writing it. So please leave a comment if you read it. :)

Thanks!


"George Eliot once wrote: 'There is no despair so absolute as that

which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow,

when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and healed,

to have despaired and have recovered hope."


"Seattle Grace *static* this is Lifestar *static* do you copy?"

The recently quiet emergency room at Seattle Grace, perked up at the possible incoming flight paramedic patient. Lifestar was known for transferring patients who were in extremely critical conditions. No EMTs were on the helicopters, just flight nurses and paramedics who could administer medical care under the verbal orders of a physician. No one had called a trauma alert, so it was a bit out of the ordinary that the radio was going off with no forewarning, - but they couldn't ignore it. Heads up or not- apparently they had an incoming critical patient in their hands.

"This is Seattle, Lifestar - go ahead," the trauma nurse responds into the microphone attached to their satellite walkie-systems, picking up her clipboard getting ready to quickly write down whatever information they could give her in this patient. She needed to asses what level of trauma it was going to fall under depending on the critical assets the patient was showing.

"*static* Lifestar 291 incoming with a transfer patient to *static* New York Presbyterian, patient is becoming unstable - need emergency landing at your location *static* is a doctor nearby for orders? *static*"

Looking back at Dr. Sloan, the nearest physician who was performing skin grafts on a road rash motorcycle victim, the trauma nurse flinches a bit at the thought of bothering him. It was his first week back from the horrible plane crash that had killed Dr. Grey, and he hadn't been the same since. Whatever niceties the man had grown the acquire since he'd been in Seattle had quickly went out the window when the young doctor had passed. All the same, it had been a well known fact to not bother him any more than necessary.

"Seattle *static* Do you copy?"

"What's going on Melissa?" Owen says walking up to the trauma nurse who looked dazed, holding a trauma clipboard, as she stood in front of their satellite communication systems with the emergency responders.

"Oh! Dr. Hunt! Thank goodness you're here," she responds as she looks back at the microphone, not sparing any glances towards the other physician behind her. "Lifestar needs a physician standing by for orders for an incoming transfer patient. They were supposed to land at New York Presbytarian but the patient is becoming unstable - they need an emergency landing location and I think we're the closest Level I Trauma Center right now."

Nodding in understanding, Owen steps up and speaks into the microphone getting ready to hear what he needed to prepare his team for. Trauma patients didn't really give them a lot of time to figure out any sort of a game plan in regards to how they would care for them - time wasn't on their side most cases

"Lifestar, this is Trauma Surgeon Dr. Owen Hunt, go ahead."

There was tension in the air as people eavesdropped and waited for the paramedics to respond with their report.

"Dr. Hunt, *static* we are transferring a critical care patient *static* to New York Presbytarian *static* patient is a twenty-seven year old female *static* on her way to a heart-lung transplant *static* patient is hooked up to a HLM *static* vitals were stable up until ten minutes ago. *static* Vitals are as follows: *static* BP 70/40, pulse is 50, respiration is 15, breath sounds on both sides are diminished *static* Patient is on a C-collar, 4 Liters of Oxygen, temperature is cool and wet, color is pale. *static* Lifestar 291 standing by for orders. *static*"

Looking over at a nearby nurse, Owen quickly tells her to notify the cardio-thoracstic surgeon, pulmonologist, orthopedic surgeon and neurosurgeon on call of the incoming trauma. He also told her to notify the Transplant Network of this detour - it would be important for the patient to still receive her organs and if they could stop them before they headed towards New York - they had a much better success rate. He knew the severity of a heart-lung transplant patient at such a young age, hooked up to a Heart-Lung Machine was what was helping keep her alive. Her vitals didn't seem to be holding up in travel - not surprisingly, he wondered just how she even managed to qualify for a transplant but - it wasn't something he let his mind sit on at the moment. Quickly getting a plan together in his head, he stepped up to give instructions to the flight paramedics.

After giving out detailed instructions to the paramedics, Owen turned back to the trauma nurse.

"Page out a Level I trauma alert. I want you up there with me to help Lifestar bring this patient down to Trauma Room B."

"Yes, sir."

"Lifestar, we will be up to assist you on the helipad. You'll be heading to Trauma Room B. What's your ETA?"

"*static* ETA is 5-7 minutes, copy *static* Trauma Room B, see you on the helipad Doctor *static* Lifestar 291 out."


On his way up to the helipad, Owen and Melissa run into Derek, Cristina, and Meredith whose pagers happen to be going off simultaneously.

"What's going on Hunt?" Derek asks as he notices the rush his friend seems to be in, the trauma nurse behind him.

"We have a Level I Trama coming, I need all hands on deck for this one," he responds looking at his two friends and his wife sadly. "Actually Cristina, if you could come up to the helipad with me, I could use your assistance with this one. It's a cardiac patient. Melissa, do you mind staying back and heading to the Trauma Room and updating Dr. Shepherd and Dr. Grey here of the incoming patient status?"

"No sir, I don't mind."

"Thank you," rushing out towards the elevators that would take them up to the roof with Cristina close behind him, he swipes his access badge and presses the button for the roof as the door closes, he watches his friends rush to the trauma bay.

"What's going on?"

"27 y.o. female, on a HLM, she's set to get a heart-lung transplant at New York Presbyterian tomorrow. She was midtransfer when her vitals started to deteriorate. I notified the transplant network, hopefully they can steer her organs here so she can maybe get transplant today instead of tomorrow."

"She's 27 and she needs a dual organ transplant? Do you have any other medical history on her?" Cristina asks in a little bit of disbelief.

"I'm assuming the paramedics do since she was on her way to New York, but at the moment I'm just as blind on this as you are." He responds, watching as her face burrows in thought at the possibilities that could have caused this young woman to be on such a thin thread of life support.

The elevators open to the cold roof, the chilly breeze and darkening sky reminding them that it's nearing the start of a brutal winter season. The helicopter lands on the pad in front of them, the doors opening quickly as a paramedic jumps down to greet them.

"Help us stabilize her she's still got a c-collar on!" He yells through the loud noise the blades are making against the dry air.

Nodding in understanding, Owen heads to where the medic is and holds one side of the gurney as he motions for Cristina to do the same on the other side. When they pull the patient down, Cristina and Owen both feel a sense of dread and fear as they recognize the young face in front of them. Looking up at each other in acknowledgement, they push away from the helipad towards the elevators, quietly assessing what to do about this situation. There wasn't any time for disbelief right now. They had to act fast if they were going to save this patient.

Turning to the paramedic, Owen asks, "Do you have her medical records?"

"Not much here Doc," the medic says as he hands over the chart in the manilla envelope he was carrying. "This lady's a miracle patient as it is. They brought her back to life after she went into hypothermic cardiac shock, found her lying in a beach under some debris. The medical examiner said that she had to have been lying there for three to four hours before they resuscitated her. She only regained consciousness for a few seconds, enough to give them a name."

Looking down at the name etched on the chart, Owen feels tears burn the back of his eyes. Alexandra Sloan.

Of course they couldn't find record of her or her body anywhere. She was alive. And she was using Mark's name. Oh god. Mark. Meredith. Derek.

Looking up at Cristina in panic, she shakes her head at him knowing they couldn't keep this hidden for long. They were the ones on-call tonight. Protocol or not she was their responsibility. As the doors open and they push her into the trauma room, Owen steers them to Trauma Bay A - the room connected to Trauma B causing some confusion to the paramedics, but they just followed his lead.

"Can you guys stay here with Dr. Yang for a minute, I need to prep my team and bring them up to speed.." Owen asks watching as they give him a look of confusion before looking at each other then back at him and nodding in agreement. He didn't have time to explain everything to them right now. But he needed everyone clear headed in here. This was a chance that they never thought they'd get again. There was no way they could mess this up now. There was too much at stake this time.

Rushing into the other trauma room where the team was ready, prepped and waiting for him including the pulmonologist Dr. Greene and Callie - who he was assuming was on call for ortho. Mark was the only one that seemed to be missing from all of this. And yet he was the one that needed to hear this the most.

"Owen, what's going on where's the trauma patient?" Meredith asks, stepping forward from where she was standing with her gloves on and her hands up and prepared.

He can feel his heart start to clench uncomfortably.

"I need to tell you guys something about the patient, and I need everyone to not talk until I'm finished."

Noting the serious tone their friend was carrying, everyone looked at each other, then back at him - nodding their heads silently in agreement.

"That patient - the one we're about to wheel in here - its.. - um, well - it's Lexie."

Watching as a look of astonishment, anger and disbelief sets in the room, everyone starts speaking up at the same time.

"Quiet!"

They all look back and see Cristina standing there with the trauma connecting doors open.

"It's her." She acknowledges for everyone, watching as Meredith's legs crumble beneath her and her body breaks out into sobs.

"She was found three or four hours after we thought she passed. Her body went into hypothermic cardiac arrest mode. They were able to resuscitate her, long enough for her to give them a name. Alexandra Sloan."

Gasping as tears make her way to her face, Callie feels the weight of importance behind this moment.

"Okay you guys. We can do this. You know we can do this. We've been wanting to have this chance for the last four weeks. We have it now. We're not going to fuck it up! Meredith, go find Mark you guys can't be in here, we'll have someone keep you guys updated. The rest of us, we're not going to let her slip away from us again, is that clear?"

Hearing Cristina pep talk the group and stand up for Lexie's well being was enough to hit the whole room into high gear. Derek quickly escorts Meredith out before rushing back into the room as they wheel Lexie in - her life hanging on by a thread.


"Can you page Dr. Sloan for me?" Meredith asks the nurse that walks by, noting tears in Dr. Grey's red and blotchy face she nods quickly before heading over to the nurses's station to put out a page for him. She wasn't quite sure why Dr. Grey was paging Dr. Sloan and not Dr. Shepherd, but she wanted to watch just in case she was about to catch something juicy.