A/N: Hey! It's been FOREVER since I've written anything, but since it's summer, I decided now would be a good time to start again. This is just a short one-shot to get me back into the swing of writing, but I'm hoping to do longer fics during the summer, too. This one will be a little supernatural, but I hope you'll like it anyways.

SPOILERS FOR THE END OF SEASON 11! If you're not past 11x20-ish, don't read this unless you want a major spoiler.

When someone loses a loved one, one of the most cliché phrases to say is that he or she is "in a better place." It was completely overused and a terrible attempt at comfort, but it's just a phrase that people say. She herself had said it before, though in the last few years of her life, she made a point to not say it as much. Because when someone dies—someone you love, someone that loved you—your whole world crashes down on top of you, brick by brick, crumbling before your very eyes as you stand helpless amidst the accumulating rubble. It's like your own heart stops beating when theirs does; it's as if all of the bright, beautiful colors in the world faded to grey the moment that person left this earth. Everything—all your material possessions, proudest accomplishments, future goals, other problems—just disappears, temporarily forgotten, as your whole being is crushed under the tremendous weight of heartbreaking grief and loss.

In that moment and in many days to come, that sense of crushing loss hangs above your head. It presses down on you and takes your breath away, as if trying to suffocate you. And when that happens, it feels like nothing will ever, ever be able to lessen that pain—especially a stupid cliché like your loved one is "in a better place." Because to you, and to so many others that loved that person, it doesn't matter what kind of "better place" they're in. To you, a better place for that person to be—the best place, in fact—would be alive, breathing, healthy, and in your arms.

The phrase "a better place" is so generic, too. She knew what people really meant by it—that their loved one is free from pain and disease and all the hurt that this world can provide. Their injuries are gone; their illness is gone; their cancer or Alzheimer's or whatever disease they had is gone. While that thought might provide some semblance of comfort in the months or years to come, it's sure as hell not helpful shortly after that person was ripped from your arms.

And truth be told, that "better place" wasn't really all that much better. Sure, she wasn't in physical pain, and thankfully there was no trace of any injuries that a several-ton chunk of plane inflicted. But you know what else there wasn't a trace of? An enormous list of people Lexie had loved so dearly, but had to leave behind. People she missed so badly every single day; people she could see and talk to, but couldn't see or talk to her in return. Her family, friends, and even a handful of patients she had come to care deeply about. So many people she never got the chance to say goodbye to and tell them, one last time, how much they meant to her or how big of an impact they'd had on her life or career.

But although she missed those people so much it hurt, she was glad they weren't here with her. Not yet, anyways. Meredith, for starters, had a loving husband and two beautiful, healthy children that needed their mother (and Lexie did not want to meet those beautiful, healthy children anytime soon—not in this "better place"). Derek had so much more surgical ass to kick before he could join her. Molly had a wonderful family and a life that she needed to live first. Her dad needed to keep getting better and keep appreciating the life he was given. Alex, Arizona, Jackson, April, Callie, Cristina... They all had entire careers filled with hundreds, even thousands of patients that still needed their help. All of her family and friends that were still alive, they all had things to do and lives to live; and for their sake, she wanted it to be a long, long time before she'd see them again.

The other side wasn't all bittersweet sadness, though—some good, happy things did come out of it. Although Lexie was heartbroken that Mark didn't live to become an even better plastics surgeon and see precious Sofia grow up, she could not explain how absolutely extraordinary it was to run into his arms again, to feel his hands around her waist, to feel his kiss upon her lips. At long last, they were together and happy. No more bad timing or surprises or other forces to drive them apart. They really were meant to be.

She got to see George again, too. Even though their friendship hit a wall (mostly due to her own stupidity), she never stopped caring about him as a person, and his death was crippling to her. Being able to see him again and talk, just like old times, was healing beyond belief.

And her mother. Her sweet, wonderful, amazing, caring mother whose life was undoubtedly cut far too short. She and Lexie spent days catching up on the past few years of life her mom had missed. Her mom was, of course, deeply saddened that her daughter had to join her so soon, but the joy of being reunited was far sweeter.

All these things and more Lexie thought about as she sat on a bench outside of Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital. People passed by—some with heartbreak and loss written all over their faces, and some with jubilance or relief or tiny babies in their arms.

No one noticed her, of course. To those random people and doctors and all of her loved ones that were still alive, she was invisible—dead, gone, and somewhere other than here.

So when she heard a familiar voice shout her name, her head shot up and she wildly looked around, eyes wide, searching for the source of the sound.

"Lexie!" the voice called again, sounding closer. It was a voice she hadn't heard in awhile, but it was familiar nonetheless. It was the voice of a man who had not only been a wonderful mentor to her in the hospital, but also a loyal friend and brother-in-law in some of her darkest times. Finally, she turned around and spotted him in the distance, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh my God... Derek?" she squeaked out, hardly believing her eyes. "You... You can see me?" she added, momentarily forgetting what that meant.

"Yeah," he laughed, "I can see you. That or I'm hallucinating."

"Derek!" she exclaimed again, louder this time, as she ran towards him and jumped into a hug.

Derek chuckled again, nearly tumbling over from the impact. He wrapped his arms around his sister-in-law and held her tight, relieved beyond belief to know that she was somewhere safe in... wherever they were.

"I'm so happy to see—" Lexie started, then abruptly stopped and pulled away as she remembered that people who are alive can't see or interact with her.

His expression morphed from one of joy to a deep sadness, knowing what Lexie was thinking. He watched as her expression changed and tears filled her eyes.

"If you... If you can see me, and we're actually talking right now, that must mean..." she trailed off, a tear streaking its way down her cheek as she thought of Meredith, Zola, Bailey, and everyone else. She couldn't even begin to imagine the sorrow and pain her sister must be going through right now, and how confused sweet little Zola probably was. And Bailey was still so young... He probably wouldn't even remember his father that loved him so much.

"Yeah," Derek murmured sadly, almost inaudibly. "I'm dead. I died."

"What... What happened?" she managed, not bothering to wipe away the tears that kept falling.

"I got hit by a truck. I was driving to the airport to go to DC and there was an accident, so I stopped to help out. And as I was turning my car around to leave, I looked away for a second and I just... It came out of nowhere."

"Oh my God, I don't know what to... I'm so sorry. Did Meredith get to... you know, say goodbye?"

He nodded. "Yeah, she did. She unplugged me, actually," he added quietly, gaze dropping to the ground.

"God, she must be so heartbroken... And what about Zola? She probably has no idea what's going on..."

Derek's eyes began to fill with tears, too, at the thought of his devastated wife and confused children. "I know," was all he managed.

"I... I wanna see her," Lexie confessed. "I know she can't see us, but—"

"I do, too," he interrupted knowingly, offering a small smile. "She's in the hospital, I think she's telling some people the... news."

"Oh God," she mumbled again, holding back a sob. Derek wrapped an arm around her.

"C'mon, let's go find her."

After a few minutes of searching, they finally found Meredith in a hospital bed. Alex sat in a chair beside her. The shades were drawn and the door was closed, but a perk of being dead was that doors and walls weren't barriers anymore. She didn't just go around walking through walls for fun, but sometimes it was helpful.

"Mer..." Lexie whispered, choking back a sob as tears once again began falling down her face.

"Derek is dead," Meredith mumbled to nobody in particular. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were red and filled with a crushing amount of pain, confusion, loss, and anguish.

"I know," Alex replied quietly, sadly.

"He's dead. Everyone is dead or gone. Everyone. Derek is dead, my mom is dead, Lexie is dead, my father might as well be dead, George is dead, Cristina is halfway across the world, Izzie is God-only-knows-where... Everyone is dead. Or gone."

"I know," Alex repeated emptily, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. "I know."

"Mer, I'm sorry," Lexie cried, unable to hold back her emotion any longer. She knew nothing was her fault and she shouldn't be sorry, but she was sorry anyways.

"I'm sorry, too," Derek choked, staring at his heartbroken wife. He stepped closer and closer to the bed until he was standing right beside it. "I'm so sorry I had to leave you, and I'm sorry I won't get to see Zola or Bailey grow up. I wanted more, Meredith. For you, for me, for us, and for our family..." He knew she couldn't feel it, but he tenderly reached out and stroked his wife's cheek.

Lexie stood beside him and put her hand on top of her sister's, wishing with all of her soul that Meredith could feel her, see her, see them.

It broke both of their hearts to see Meredith in so much pain, and they were the cause of it. It wasn't their fault, of course, not really—it's not like either of them had wanted to die. But someone they loved was hurting, and neither of them could do anything to make it better.

Lexie dissolved into tears, heavy sobs wracking her body as she sank to her knees. She leaned against the bed and cried openly, clutching her sister's hand despite knowing she couldn't feel it. She cried for her now-widowed sister and the dark road ahead of her; she cried for all their other friends who never got to say goodbye. She cried for the lost time—years that Meredith wouldn't get to spend with her husband, years Lexie herself wouldn't get to spend with her big sister.

Tears escaping his own eyes, Derek knelt beside her and wrapped one arm around her, the other resting atop Lexie's and Meredith's hands.

After a few minutes, Lexie's sobs reduced to sniffles, and Derek had managed to stand up again. He reached down and offered a hand to Lexie, who took it and stood beside him. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and leaned against her brother-in-law.

"She'll be okay," Derek mumbled to himself and Lexie. "She has Alex and my sister and so many others. She'll be okay." He once again stroked Meredith's cheek, voice involuntarily lowering. "You'll be okay."

They stood there in silence for a few moments longer. Alex and Meredith had stopped talking and both resorted to staring blankly at the wall or floor. Derek was quiet, and so was Lexie, save a few stray sniffles.

"We should go," Derek finally said, unable to watch his wife in so much pain any longer.

Lexie nodded, wiping her eyes again. "Okay," she managed weakly. She turned to go, but hesitated and looked back. Tears began filling her eyes again and she bit her lip.

"Come on, Lex," he prodded gently, struggling to steady his voice. "It just hurts more to stay." He reached his arm out towards her, beckoning her to follow him.

Lexie closed her eyes for a long moment, several tears escaping as she did. Finally, she took a shaky breath in and opened them.

"Plus," he added, "you and I have a lot to catch up on. I have some hilarious stories about Meredith that I've been waiting to tell you."

"Okay," she smiled, and even managed a light laugh. "I could use some funny stories." She took Derek's hand and let him guide her out of the room.

As they left, they both gave Meredith silent promises:

Even though I'm gone, I'm still calling Post-It. I love you, Meredith Grey.

I love you, Mer. I'll always be your little sister.

A/N: There we go! It was a bit of a longer one-shot, and I wasn't really sure where it was gonna go. But I'm pretty happy with how it turned out! If you liked it (or if you didn't), please leave a review and let me know! It would mean a ton! (: