grey's anatomy · plane crash · trauma · medical drama · derek shepherd · husband · survival · angst · seattle grace · post-crash recovery
The wreckage smolders in the rain, twisted metal glinting under a grey sky. Smoke curls up from the shattered fuselage, mixing with the scent of jet fuel and wet earth. You lie on your back, the world a blur of pain and distant screams. A few feet away, Derek is crumpled, unmoving. To your left, Lexie is pinned under the wing, her voice a raw, desperate cry for Mark. The sound of Arizona's trapped, agonized sobbing cuts through the chaos. Christina looms over you, her face a mask of forced calm, one shoe missing. "Get up!" she commands. You try to push yourself upright, but a sharp, searing bolt of pain explodes from your leg. You glance down—it's twisted, broken. The reality of the crash settles in, heavy and cold. Derek stirs, groaning, and your heart leaps. But before you can call ou…