_{@lxstfights | sentence starters | ACCEPTING}

         _{nerves stand on cutting edge,     elbows resting on his knees in feigned relaxation —— as if his troubled psyche hasn’t been racing ever since he got the text that she needed to talk.     his gaze runs over her countenance.     she looks as anxious as he feels & she’s been oddly silent since he arrived,     something that does not bode well with him.     nervous izzie twitters and chirps and vomits her words like it physically hurts to keep them down;     never has she been so nervous that it has prevented her from talking.}

         _{idle digits suspended in the space between his legs fidget for a moment before he straightens up,     habitually placing his hands on his thighs.      ❛   if you need to tell me somethin’——  ❜     he trails off in fear of the response that he might get to what he’s about to say,     but steels himself up in the next breath,     ready to reconstruct the walls he has c a r e f u l l y let her take down since she’s returned if need be.     ❛   look,     if you’re gonna leave,     if you think —— if you think you made a mistake comin’ back or —— or whatever,      just tell me,     alright?     i’m not gonna get piss——   ❜}

         _{she   (   thankfully   )   cuts him off mid-sentence,     rendering him speechless.     she wants to try for a baby.     they’re not quite back together,     still stuck in that painful LIMBO that they both want to escape but neither has taken the step to get out of.     maybe this is her taking that step.     and he’s been wanting a kid for years now.     who better to have one with?     alex meets her gaze for a moment,     warm chocolate hues in all their vulnerability,     before nodding.     that same rush of adrenaline that had him kissing her that drunken night in the bar rears its head again, & his palm is cradling her jaw,     his lips are on hers before he even realizes he’s moved.     he pulls away only to rest his forehead on hers,     bridges of noses brushing against each other.}

                 _{❛   yeah, let’s —— let’s have a baby.   ❜}

_{THE SUN.}

            ^{he’s staying. that much is obvious in his steady gait towards her, in the hold he takes on her foot. the nostalgic gesture nearly knocks the WIND out of the blonde. it’s a small but meaningful gesture, one that has & always will meant i’m not going anywhere. the itching need to pull her foot back, to tell him to go screw himself, is there, but she can’t do it. he’s staying & she doesn’t deserve that —— not after she didn’t stay all those years ago. she settles on begrudgingly flinching when the warmth of his hand mingles with that of her foot, but CHOOSES to not pull away because she doesn’t want to mess up the scan. NOT because it reminds her of all the times she managed to rouse him from a deep sleep by pressing her icicles for toes against his legs until he would grumble & pull her closer. definitely not because of that. ( yeah, she’s gonna go with the defense of not wanting to mess up the ct. )}

            ^{❛ i’m serious, alex. get out while you still can, wouldn’t want my very possible incoming hallucinations screwing up your life again, ❜ is seethed with venom, an uncontrollable, rash attempt to hurt him in the same way he hurt her. it was petty, izzie knew that. but she’s angry, terrified, & LOST —— they both are. dark hues betray her & flit to the man at her bedside once again, brows pinching slightly closer together sadly. ❛ when are we going to stop hurting each other? ❜ words barely a whisper, her voice is laced with grief. grief for what once was, grief for what was MISSED, & grief for her own massive mistakes nearly a decade before. ❛ i’m scared too. i’m scared & i —— i miss you all the time. it’s never just for a minute, either, it’s —— all the time. i don’t get it & i don’t get you some days but dammit, alex, i want to try. i can’t live another day missing you when you’re right here, because i’ve spent too much of my time missing people that are dead & not right here. i can —— i can do something about it this time. ❜ a deep inhalation is taken before continuing. ❛ so yes. i think a fresh start would be nice. ❜}

            ^{fingers nervously smooth out the fabric of the form-fitting black dress. this is ALEX, she feels silly for being nervous about meeting him for a freaking drink, something they had agreed upon doing after her appointment. the surgeon had changed her dress twice before finally opting that she better stop since she didn’t have the best of luck last time she changed her dress so many times. stop, iz, you look fine. this isn’t even a date, just a catch-up. blonde curls, now grown out to almost the length they were during her intern year, cascade over her shoulders; a welcome change from the chemo hair she outfitted up until a few years ago. perched on the barstool tensely, she orders two dark beers while she waits & briefly hopes that dark beer is still his favorite. ( she wonders how many other women got to learn that he hates cold feet & that dark beer is his absolute favorite. )}

          _{where he had been relatively calm upon leaving his apartment, nerves now keep him seated firmly in the front seat of his car —— though he has managed to turn the engine off and take the key out of the ignition. BABY STEPS! he’s pretty sure he’s starting to sweat despite the chill slowly seeping into the vehicle, stomach twisting itself into knots. when was the last time he was this nervous? when he went up for that board seat? he LOST that, and remembering that does nothing to quiet his roaring psyche. hands grip the top of the wheel as he stares at the front door of the bar. this is IZZIE. they’ve done this countless times. met up at a bar, gotten drunk, gone home together. but this is different. he’s different. she’s different. what if what they had really is gone? after all these years, who knows what incompatibilities have formed. he lets out a huff, letting himself relax against the back of his seat. if it’s gone, then it’s gone —— but nothing would be worse than not trying at all. he’s a fighter. he can do this. reaffirmed in his decision to stop running from her, he finally reaches for the handle.
          she lights up the whole room, and this time when he walks in, he is not blinded by her; he hardly has to squint.   (   what did they say about ICARUS and THE SUN? he can’t seem to recall anymore.   )   one or two knots loosen within him, though his shoulders have tensed considerably. he gives a nod to joe as he weaves through the tables, expression tellingly neutral. a clearing of his throat, a careful   ❛   hey,   ❜   and he has taken the seat beside her. it takes everything in him not to let his eyes roam —— because god damn, that dress. instead, he removes his jacket to reveal a dry shirt. and yes, he does surreptitiously check to make sure before tucking his jacket between him and the stool. hands wrap around the beer before him —— a dark, local microbrew, just like he had suggested when she had that party years back. he would be surprised that she remembered, but it’s izzie. she probably remembers what shampoo he still uses too. the bottle is lifted slightly as he turns to face her, coupled with:   ❛   thanks.   ❜}

          _{it feels like he’s walking on e g g s h e l l s, not quite sure what to say, not quite sure if he should bring up the possibility of her cancer coming back or if he should keep it light. after a beat, he decides the latter is probably the best course of action. he’ll be there for her even if they wind up hating who the other has become in the years they’ve spent apart, but he still wants to get to know this perfectly familiar and yet strikingly different woman sitting before him.   ❛   i, uh —— i read up on some of the articles you wrote. one of ‘em actually helped derek and i save a kid a while back,   ❜   he starts, not meeting her eyes. brows furrows, grip on his beer tightening. so much has happened in the time she’s been gone, a staggering amount of friends lost. he’s sure that the death of a renowned neurosurgeon like derek shepherd must have gotten around the community, but if it hasn’t…   ❛   do you—— do you know about derek?   ❜   so much for keeping things light.}

_CHOSEN.

            ^{breath is stolen by the severity of his jabs, each word a canon blowing devastating holes into her ship. he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it. she KNOWS this is just how alex is, his defense mechanism. still, a rush of air escapes distressed lungs, the SHOCK finally wearing off. ❛ —— i can’t believe you just said that. ❜ undoubtedly, this is the most hurtful thing he’s seethed to her to date. he doesn’t mean it. she can see his hurt, the catastrophic repercussions of her abandoning him. but she can’t let herself feel the guilt that’s begging to be felt, because if she felt the guilt then that means that the past seven years were for nothing & that was her fault. ❛ you know what? no, you don’t get to blame me for the fact that when i came back all those years ago, YOU told me to leave, you don’t get to talk to me about denny, & you DEFINITELY don’t get to stand here & blame me getting cancer for our relationship falling apart! ❜} 

             ^{❛ maybe i shouldn’t have left when you told me to, but did you ever think that maybe i got tired of your crap, too? you try SO hard to prove that you don’t care about anyone or anything when we both know damn well that that is far from the truth. all hail king alex, protector of babies & rainbows, marvel at his ability to draw you in & then stomp on your heart like a bug on the sidewalk. oo & aa, but don’t you dare fall in love or else you’ll be chasing him seven years later & wasting your freaking breath yelling in an ambulance bay! ❜ a sharp tongue delivers her rant, accompanied by tears that flood doe eyes. scrub-coated legs had carried her closer to him while her hands accentuated each word. with one final icy glance at his equally worked up features, the features that she has come to know & love like her own skin, she heads back inside. leaving him again. he doesn’t mean it, except that he does.} 

            ^{the surgery went smoothly in the disturbingly silent o.r., alex’s stupid face aggressively ignored. the hallway marked ct/mri stares menacingly at her now. nurses could be heard whispering curiously about the quietness. she tried not to, god did she try, to watch him in his element, performing his dance. as reluctant as she would be to admit it, they synchronized well together, a duet constructed of scalpels & sutures; always in rhythm, never missing a beat. his hues glowed with a caring passion & she couldn’t help but wonder if that was really the same man that was in the ambulance bay just hours prior. the door to the ct room is swung open (perhaps a little harder than necessary), & she is INSTANTLY flooded with nostalgia & all sorts of panic. welcome back.}

            ^{serenity of the large machine encasing her is disrupted at the sound of the door opening. through the cracks of the plastic, hues manage to land on the visitor. alex. the exact person who she hoped would & wouldn’t show up. she feels the pressure to remain still shift from to prevent messing up the ct scan to prevent being seen, as if somehow lying completely still will make her disappear. she feels his eyes on her, & her own irises dart to & from him & the machine’s roof. she swears her heart speeds up, either in appreciation or protest, & her anger speaks FIRST. ❛ i didn’t page you. just get out. ❜}

          _{contrition washes over his features as soon as he realizes the extent of what he has said to her. his tongue was too sharp, too careless; he didn’t mean to cut as deep as he did & yet she is sliced from stem to stern, bleeding out before him while he does nothing but avert his gaze. umber hues train themselves over her shoulder, on her lips, on her hair —— on anything but her eyes —— as he stands there and takes what she rightfully throws back at him. maybe she gave up on him, maybe he pushed her away, but at this point, who’s to blame no longer matters. what matters is what he’s choosing to do now that she has come back, and everything he has done from the moment she walked through the doors of the hospital to now has been a mistake.   (   everything but that drunken kiss.   )   he couldn’t put aside his pride and admit to his feelings for her, talk this out like the adult he claimed to be yesterday. NO, he had to go and push her away again just for him to see how much he wanted her.}

          _{the coffee in his hand is flung against the nearest wall as soon as she is out of sight, painting the bricks a sharp shade of brown. he storms out of the ambulance bay only a few beats after izzie, but he does not get the chance to see her again until surgery, despite looking for her in all of their old places. his mouth doesn’t open once while they operate, his eyes don’t meet hers. shame boils beneath his skin. it scalds and scars and doesn’t quite go away, even while his scalpel is moving. only when they close up & she storms out does he risk glancing her way.   (   LEAVE HER ALONE! // GO AFTER HER!   )   his feet move too late to corner her while she scrubs out. he doesn’t really believe in signs, but maybe that’s what this is: a sign to leave her alone & let her move on. she’d be better off without him —— and yet she came back after eight years, attesting to the fact that her time without him has not been better in any sense. leave her alone. go after her. he doesn’t know which to choose.}

          _{he watches the clock in the attendings’ lounge for some time, hands going ‘round and ‘round until he can’t bear to see them mock him anymore. he’s running out of time. if he isn’t there for this appointment, he doesn’t deserve to be there for anything else. lips press together exasperatedly for a moment before he rushes from the lounge, leaving kepner mid-sentence, & finds himself at the door of the ct room. his choice was never a choice. it always has been her; it’s always going to be her.}

          _{seeing her in the machine again takes him aback for a moment, washes over him with ice cold water, before her voice reminds him that this is NOT the same situation as it was eight years ago. these are just tests.    ❛   i’m an ass,   ❜   he begins, feet taking him to her side.   ❛   i shouldn’t have —— i was being an ass. you’re back and —— and i don’t know what the hell that means and it’s freakin’ scary, izzie. i’m a different person now. i’m not the same kid i was back then, and i —— i don’t want to go back to that, not after everything i’ve been through since you left. but maybe —— maybe we could… i don’t know, start over or whatever. a fresh start to —— to get to know each other again. because this is scary and i don’t know what’s gonna happen, but i know that i want you in my life.   ❜   out of sheer habit does he reach out and take her foot, in hopes that he might provide her some comfort if nothing else.}

laidre:

i wish you’d hold me when i turn my back
the less i give the more i get back
oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise
i don’t have a choice but i’d still choose you.

_CAT.

            ^{a kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous. it exposes emotions better than any word in the human language ever could, fleshing out what the heart wants to say rather than the brain. she couldn’t help but recognize the irony of the fact that she is a brain surgeon yet she firmly believes in letting your heart do the talking. years ago, cristina would presumptuously tell her that hearts can’t talk; they can pump blood & supply oxygen but it can’t speak. a simple head shake would be given in response because izzie infinitely believed otherwise. years ago kissing alex karev wouldn’t be a revolutionary event. he had spoke with his heart when he kissed her the previous night & now neither of them knew how the hell to make their brains do the same.}

            ^{standing at that coffee cart brings the loudest silence yet. she wasn’t sure why she had approached him when she KNEW he would block her out. maybe it was to affirm to her that not everything changes, or maybe it was that pestering bit of hope that resided in the depths of her mind —- hope that he would wrap her in his arms & never let go. she knew this was completely unrealistic, but if that hope hadn’t existed she wouldn’t be standing there. the unwavering, back & forth thoughts of YOU left him & HE told you to leave scratch at her head, leaving her with a feeling of WHIPLASH. rapid blinks ignite when the stirrer is aggressively tossed with a thud into the trash followed by the noisy payment. dark irises stare at the counter until he begins to walk off.} 

            ^{of course she follows him. if there is one thing alex needs, it’s persistence. he needs people to prove that they want to be in his life, that they want to stay. later that day, they would be in the or together for the first time as soloists, as attendings. they had yet to witness one another’s craft & she refused to walk into that operating room & stand over a table for thirteen hours with him aching to say what she needed to. so she follows him, all the way outside to the ambulance bay. he had always went there to escape, to breathe the chilled, therapeutic air. the sun was still rising which projected a calming orange glow onto his physique.}

            ^{❛ you’re just going to kiss me & ignore me until i leave? you can’t just do that, alex. you —- you can’t seriously expect me to leave after that. you wouldn’t have done that if you wanted me to leave again, ❜ she fumes, tones demanding some kind of response. being ignored sparked a flame in izzie, it always had. hands seek warmth in her lab coat pockets before continuing. ❛ i have a ct scheduled for after the surgery, ❜ is blurted in a desperate attempt to be acknowledged. she had never planned on sharing that with him (or anyone) but she was willing to say anything to grab his attention. ❛ it’s probably nothing, just a few headaches. but i am not leaving on an unfinished sentence again. i’m DONE not being done. i am not leaving this freaking hospital until you talk to me, i don’t care if i have to wait a week or until the day i die, you are going to talk to me. i’m not going anywhere. ❜}

          _{his mother used to pray for him to saint jude, the patron saint of lost causes. that’s what he was to his mother: a lost cause in need of praying for because maybe that could fix him —— or help him or whatever. he doesn’t really know how religion works, but he knows that if his mother were here to witness this game of CAT & MOUSE he’s concocted, she’d pray for it too. he dangles himself in front of izzie time and time again just to see if she’ll pounce, always just a little bit too fast, a little bit too wriggly —— until he doesn’t want to be anymore. it isn’t fair to her.  ( it isn’t fair that the mouse wants to be chased; it isn’t fair that the cat is forced to prove itself even when it already has. )  he’s aware of this, but that assurance is something he needs in a relationship, especially in one as historically turbulent as theirs. that’s why the footsteps that mirror his just a few feet back, the ones that speed up whenever his do, the ones that never once falter in their gait, instill him with a comfort that is verging on ANGERING. he can’t still be this easily susceptible to the pervasiveness of izzie stevens, and yet he is!}

          _{oh, and it boils the blood in his veins  ( blood now, not lead nor concrete )  that all she has to do is waltz back into grey sloan like nothing has happened for him to want to bear himself to her. she’s always had the unique ability of being able to see past all his crap and give him what he truly needed, and he’s missed that, that she could know him even when he couldn’t figure himself out —— but that doesn’t mean he wants to miss that; so when he finally comes to a halt in the ambulance bay, psyche too busy thinking about her to realize that this is where he has subconsciously chosen to be, alex mercurially wishes that she hadn’t followed him. those footsteps should have faltered so that he could have a valid reason to tell her to go to hell. her comfort is UNWELCOME here & her persistence is too.}

          _{a moment is taken to steel himself up against those big, brown, bambi eyes before he turns to face her once she has begun talking. mouth opens as if to say something once she has paused, but her continuance succinctly shuts it. she has a ct scheduled because of a few headaches. her intended effect builds successfully within him. ice water is poured down the back of his neck, worry is bubbling up within the pit of his stomach. her cancer can’t recur. they she beat a five percent survival rate! that saint his mother used to pray to is not cruel enough to allow it to recur, right? more importantly: why does he care? he doesn’t. he CAN’T. he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. if he cares, then he loves, and then he’s vulnerable all over again. instead of caring, he lashes out —— hard.}

          _{hand that isn’t holding coffee cup is placed on his hip, eyes narrowing, lips parting in mock-incredulity, head canting forward ever so.   ❛   what don’t you freakin’ get about this? i don’t want you to stay. i don’t want to know about your headaches. you don’t know me anymore. i don’t want cut lvad wires or hallucinations or walking out or —— or any of that crap i had with you. i want real! i want a life! i want a family! i deserve that —— not someone who walks in and out of my life whenever they freakin’ want to. i’m done with that. i want real.   ❜   saint jude can go screw himself.}

_IGNORED.

            ^{she was getting better —- but then she remembered what she was trying to get away from, the person that simultaneously managed to tear her apart & build her up all at the same time. now she’s back at the start, pounding back drinks at a bar, pathetically sulking over the very man who terminally broke her heart. no, scratch that —- she broke her OWN heart. he pushed her away & she let him. his undeviating attempts at driving her away were really a cry for help, a plea for her to stay & freaking do something. instead, she ran. one second of believing his desire to be isolated had costed them year after lost year. so no, this wasn’t alex’s fault. it was hers. it just took seeing that face again, the one that she loves with every fiber of her being, to realize.}

            ^{& now he is seated just a few short yards down the bar, seemingly dealing with his own noisy thoughts through the form of alcohol. sienna hues obsessively track him, observing his form slowly loosening up with every drink. each glass emptied representing a guilty conscience draining with it, the liquor gradually alleviating more & more stress. petaled lips polish off her (some number she can’t remember) drink, fingers slamming the glass into the mahogany as if it were some kind of huge accomplishment.}

            ^{eyes waste no time darting back to alex, except he wasn’t there anymore. when she spots him next, he is planted right next to her. the surgeon barely had any time to think a single thought before his lips were on hers, moving with such urgency that for a second she swears he must have missed her as desperately as she missed him —- because with the right person, sometimes kissing feels like healing. when the second of utter shock passes, her lips dance fervently against his, desperate to convey her unrelenting need to repair what was broken. seven years of emotion is thrown at each other & then he is GONE, leaving her more sober than ever & staring where his presence had just lurked.} 

            ^{a 6 a.m. shift never felt so early in all of izzie’s career. remnants of vodka angrily slosh in her stomach & pound behind her eyes, acting as an ugly reminder of what she was trying to forget. he kissed her & she kissed him back. it was a habitual reaction, something that occurred so naturally that it felt like no time had passed at all since she last tasted his lips on hers. the hospital stirred quietly, its inhabitants still in the process of opening their eyes & starting their days. the coffee cart is her only motivator at this point. she turns the corner that leads to happiness & stops dead in her tracks at the sight of alex making himself a coffee. of course he would be there, he’s e v e r y w h e r e . (in her head & now, apparently, in person.)} 

            ^{he is dressed in dark blue scrubs, which causes her heart to swell with a mix of pride & mourning for the years she didn’t get to see that led him to that point. legs carry her hesitantly over to begin making her own coffee, briefly imagining alex proudly slipping on his new, darker scrubs for the first time, shaking the chief’s hand, living his first day as an attending surgeon —- something izzie would never watch him do because she left. gaze is glued to the cup she picks up, words coming out in a hushed tone. ❛ you kissed me. last night, you kissed me, & i kissed you back. ❜ a beat of silence passes. ❛ so, what, you’re going to just ignore me now? ❜} 

          _{four advil, two glasses of water —— and every noise, no matter how quiet, that fills the air around him, every bright light invading his optics still prompts pain to reverberate within his skull, bouncing from wall to wall. he feels sluggish, like the remaining alcohol coursing his veins has turned to lead. in a futile attempt to wipe the hangover away, palms meet closed eyes. it doesn’t work & he almost collides with a nurse. there’s a REASON he prefers beer to liquor ( not just because it was the only thing his old man could afford when he felt like drinking his vices instead of injecting them ) : his body has always handled it considerably better the morning after. increased dehydration be damned. he needs to get himself a cup of coffee or six or he’ll never make it through the day.}

          _{the only good thing that has come of this headache is the fact that his mind has been focused on it for most of the morning. unfortunately, the human brain has a tendency to zero in on the most intense pain a person is experiencing & block out all others for the sake of consciousness, so as soon as thoughts drift to izzie, his headache has all but disappeared! it’s a good old-fashioned miracle that leaves him in a worse mood than before, made apparent by how aggressively he’s stirring a single packet of sugar into his cup of black coffee. now all he can think about is how soft her lips were on his, how she relaxed into him after her initial shock wore off, and how much he regrets it. no, not it. not the kiss. he regrets what it revealed to her —— that like always, his anger is only a barrier.}

          _{and he regrets that exponentially more from the moment his eyes ( metal to the magnet that is izzie stevens ) happen to drift her way to the moment he realizes she’s headed towards him. lead veins turn to concrete that won’t let him budge from his spot, only return his gaze back to the whirlpool of black in his cup. he can’t acknowledge her; he won’t. she is persistent, invasive, demands to be not only acknowledged but answered. alex can’t deal with the fact that if she asks him whether or not he still has feelings for her, his answer will be yes, and he can’t deal with the fact that if she asks him whether or not she should stay, his answer will be a firm no. so very simply, alex elects not to deal with any of it. that seems like the best course of action.}

          _{it feels like an eternity before muted words break the heavy silence and the concrete in his veins simultaneously. ( where had all the noise that deafened him just moments earlier gone? ) alex doesn’t even bother glancing her way. an unnecessarily heavy-handed toss has his wooden stirrer landing in the trash can, a crumpled ten dollar bill being fished from his pocket and slapped! onto the counter. it’s a wonder he even snags a cap before walking off. and if that wasn’t obvious enough, he taunts her with a quick  ❛ yep, ❜  before burning his tongue on his coffee. just like he knew she would bug him about last night, he knows that she’s going to follow him. the worst part? underneath all of the harsh words and bitter contempt that festers just beneath his skin is an ache that wants her to follow him, wants her to just know that she should stay.}

          _{because if she has to ask, then she shouldn’t have approached him to begin with.}

_KISSED.

            ^{remorse taints the still air of the room at a suffocating pace, it’s destructive qualities weighing heavily on their shoulders. one thing izzie hadn’t intended when she accepted the case request was to make things  w o r s e  with the man she once (& still) loved. years anger & regret had a way of plaguing good intentions, though. words previously left unsaid uncontrollably spilled out. 7 years, 84 months, 4,368 weeks, 30,576 days, 733,824 hours, regardless of however the hell you looked at it, that amount of time gave them both countless, precious minutes to ponder what they should have said. all of those pre-planned speeches went out the window when she saw that face again, perched over a child’s bed with a little salt & pepper in his hair paired with a compassionate look of warmth on his features.} 

            ^{agitation continuously bubbled on his features, daring to EXPLODE at any second. his posture remains defensive, something the blonde had expected from the get-go. building walls was one of alex’s most prominent attributes. she realized over time that he didn’t build walls to keep people out, but he did it to see who cared enough to knock them down. she wipes the stray tears with the back of her hand, eyes retreating to the floor to avoid his icy gaze. almost makes up for the fact that you didn’t. the comment chills her to the core, figure stiffening at the brash bump of their shoulders. she doesn’t dare respond. instead, she waits for a few moments in the lounge before bracing herself & returning to the hallway in the opposite direction.}

            ^{it took everything in her not to lash out at the curious bystanders. some of them were familiar faces, most not. nonetheless, izzie spent the remainder of the workday in fits of rage & soul-crushing desolation. coming back was a mistake. a big, fat, ugly mistake that set her back about six years on the ‘moving on’ scale. she lashes out unrelentingly at the residents, nurses, & even the patient’s parents. projecting her personal anguish into her work was something only alex karev could cause her to do.}

            ^{hours after her grueling shift ended & two vodka tonics later, she finds herself sitting on a bar stool at joe’s, praying to whatever god was out there that the person she simultaneously really wanted to and really DIDN’T want to see wouldn't show up. maybe she would get lucky and he would be on-call. but if there was ONE thing the neurosurgeon KNEW, it was that alex liked to flush out a particularly stressful day by drinking, too. she had convinced herself that she simply came to the bar for nostalgia purposes, not as another last-ditch effort to try to repair the empty void in her heart left by her & alex’s nearly decade old decisions. nope, definitely not that. just as the tonic was polished off & she requested a refill, the bar door opened to unveil the man where all of her fears & hopes were packaged into one human being.}

            ^{let’s be honest —- when has izzie stevens ever been called LUCKY?}

          _{the solitude of the nicu that had been sought out so that he might not run into izzie again only leaves him at the merciless whim of unrelenting thoughts as he tends to the infants in his care — thoughts that don’t seem to focus on anything but HER. tresses of pure gold have grown long since he last saw her, laughter lines noticeable now even when her expression is neutral. she no longer looks sick, and he wonders briefly at the state of her health before scolding himself and moving on to something else: her apology. because that’s what it was. an apology that he can’t bring himself to accept because if he does, there will be nothing keeping him from getting hurt again. once that surgery is performed, she’s gone. she isn’t sticking around for him. she’s just clearing her guilty conscience so that she can go on with her life without the weight of him holding her down anymore.} 

          _{true to form, alex heads over to joe’s as soon as his shift ends to drink away the stress of the day. the sheer volume of people obscures her from his sweep of the place as he walks over to the bar. a bittersweet sigh of relief is let out before lips press themselves back into a line, the dimple on the left side of his face reserved for this very expression making itself prominent.  ❛ just give me whatever’s on tap, ❜  he requests, settling on a stool. he’s not sure what draws him to glance down the bar — maybe it’s the flicker of movement that comes from some guy lifting his glass to his lips, maybe it’s just the curse of idleness — but umber hues fall upon the one person he’s trying to forget about for two damn seconds, too bright and sunny for such a dim room. it hurts his eyes to look at her for too long, so they quickly fix themselves on the shelves of liquor in front of him.  ❛ actually, make that a double whiskey on the rocks — and keep ‘em coming. ❜}

          _{one drink turns into two, and then three, and then half of four, and pretty soon he’s warm all over and can’t quite think straight. (maybe he shouldn’t have downed so many doubles.) he keeps glancing over at her, able to brave the way her light burns a little longer every time with the onslaught of alcohol flooding his system. eventually he decides that there’s no point in just sitting here and waiting for — what? something to happen? he doesn’t even know why he bothered staying, let alone so long. money is left behind where he’d been sitting for what must have been an hour(?) and then he’s uncouthly pushing his way through people to get to the door, chorused by a lot of “watch where you’re going!”s. a pause.}

          _{there’s a reason people get their phones taken away when they’re as drunk as he is. they do stupid things, like text their exes about how much they’re missed and loved and hey, maybe we can make it work if we try again.}

          _{or, if you’re alex karev and your ex is right there in the bar with you, you decide to make your way over to her. psyche dredges up the distant, distant memory of their first date, when he stupidly didn’t kiss her, and then the next day when he dipped her off of her stool at this very bar and kissed her like he should have in the first place. his gesture now isn’t quite as grand. it’s clumsier when he sidles up between her and the guy next to her, when he brushes her hair behind her ear and cups her jaw in his palm, when his lips find her lips and pour all of the hurt and hatred and longing and love into this one, reckless kiss. he doesn’t know why he does it. maybe to make up for all the years of not kissing her, just like that first time. he’ll blame it on the alcohol in the morning, though. there are no words as he walks away again, somehow feeling both heavier and lighter.}

_PUSHED.

            ^{deleterious speeches persistently flow, the room feeling like it’s overflowing with trapped words and angry heat. immediately, it becomes clear that his jabs are a result of unbearable SADNESS. her mouth falls open slightly at his next words. he wanted her to stay, he wanted her to prove to him that she loved him enough to fight. izzie foolishly thought he had moved on the first time she came back seven years ago. she had thought he was done battling in a seemingly unwinnable war. ❛ i didn’t —- i didn’t REALIZE that was what you wanted, alex! i never know with you half the time. one minute you’re reading wedding vows to me and the next you’re telling me i’m not good enough for you. ❜} 

            ^{a beat of silence lingers, menacingly dancing in the dead air between the two of them. she pants softly from the raw exertion of agitation, of fluctuating EMOTION. ❛ listen, we were both alone and scared and stupid. i mean, we still are, apparently. i don’t know why i left, but i couldn’t come back, not for a while. maybe i thought i was protecting you from the five percent survival rate or whatever, because god knows aggressive cancers come back all the time, or maybe i wanted to give you the chance to have a better life —- a better future —- without a flaky cancer wife screwing it all up. i don’t know. ❜ hell, she wishes she did know. if she did maybe she wouldn’t have left in the first place.} 

            ^{brown hues watch the other, a visible mix of shame and guilt present. hands find solace in hiding themselves within the crooks of her crossed arms, a nervous tick the blonde possessed all her life, as if they were trying to escape the confrontation. his stare remains stony and unchanged —- a haunting sight compared to the bright, admirable gaze she was used to seeing. eyes shift to the wall to avoid the image she never wanted to see in her head again. a fresh well of tears spring, clouding her vision and threaten to spill over while she gnaws on her lips in attempt to get it together.} 

            ^{she nods at the lecture, allowing him to get it out of his system, to say what needed to be said. they have seven years of thoughts to spill. eighty-four months apart and yet both still have so many unsaid words full of anger, despair, and underlying love to evict.} 

            ^{oh, god. oh, god, she had forgotten what it was to hear her name in his voice. it had been such a long time since she last heard it, that it momentarily left her in a state of CONFUSION. she worked so hard to convince herself that she would never hear him say it again that her brain had been trained out of recognize her own name when alex said it. her name had always sounded different when he said it and she had forgotten. congratulations, izzie stevens. maybe you did move on a bit after all. ❛ i’m happy that you made yourself better. that’s something i couldn’t have done for you. for whatever it’s worth, i wish i had stayed and fought, too. ❜}

          _{a scoff flies past his lips, harsh and disbelieving, one that tells her just how ridiculous he thinks that is better than words ever could — or, maybe just kinder than words ever could. she’s trying to fix this, but salt is only being poured into wounds he refuses to lick in front of her. adrenaline courses through his veins like fire, burning him up from the inside out. it tinges his cheeks red and labors his breathing ever so. his instincts had insisted that he FIGHT when she first followed after him, but they have very quickly begun to shift towards FLIGHT. mirroring her, arms cross themselves tightly over his chest in a subconscious attempt to quell his heart’s erratic beating. it aches more and more with every word, every pulse, and he knows the solution is as easy as walking out that door, but he forces himself to hear her out.}

          _{god, he wants to tell her that she was his future. once she recovered her memory after that last surgery, he could finally picture them buying their own house together or having a tea party with their children without her five percent survival rate laughing quite so loudly in his face. he was ready for his life with her, but he was scared of how the loss of her, which was still possible, would affect him. it’s not like he wanted to push her away. he just couldn’t help it, an instinct as ingrained into his system as fight or flight. if he just made her leave himself, maybe it wouldn’t pain him quite as much as her death would.}

          _{all alex does, though, is cast his gaze over to the couch, swallowing those words down, down, down to the pit in his stomach where they go to rot. his own emotions threaten to break through the steeliness of his demeanor the longer he gazes into those big browns of hers, filled to the brim with regret and sorrow that spills over the apples of her cheeks. he can’t risk her seeing that vulnerability. letting her in will only allow her to hurt him once more, and he won’t be able to survive when she inevitably goes back to —— wherever once she performs her surgery. as much as he wants to fold her into his embrace and wipe away the tears he caused, he CAN’T. for himself.}

          _{he can escape though. he sees his chance, and he takes it.  ❛ yeah, almost makes up for the fact that you didn’t, ❜  alex quips before pushing past her, shoulder brushing against shoulder as he storms towards the door. something like a crowd has gathered outside, nosy interns and unimpressed nurses and concerned friends alike turned into moths near a flame. most of the interns are too frightened of him to stay once he emerges, but the nurses only look back to their paperwork and the friends stay put. he can’t handle explaining himself, so he just walks away.}

          _{it’s as he’s heading towards the nicu — with lots of sick babies to keep his mind busy and lots of seclusion to keep anyone from bothering him — that he realizes he’s doing it again. he’s pushing away what very well may be the best thing that’s ever happened to him again, when she had come bearing regret and apology. a nearby garbage bin is sought out by his foot, sent sailing across the hallway before he can even process that he’s moved.}

_LOVED.

            ^{rageful words spill out of the other’s mouth, each one stinging izzie to the core. past experiences proved that hurtful speeches from alex were often vacant of what he truly meant to say. empty threats, almost. still, this somewhat comforting fact doesn’t stop her from backing up slightly when insults continued being hurled at her. dark hues drift to the side, avoiding eye contact during the rant. izzie hated to see alex angry, she always had. NOT meeting his vengeful eyes with hers always seemed to lessen the blow, to make the burn hurt less. she let him finish, arms crossing insecurely across her chest.}

            ^{TEARS are the first thing she sees when she finally gathers the courage to look back up and instantly her gaze softens. she had only ever seen alex cry ONCE before. he didn’t cry. hell, he rarely even showed any emotion besides anger and his usual cool blasé attitude. the temptation to reach out and touch him, to wipe his tears away, was strong. a breath she didn’t know she had been holding was released unevenly.}

            ^{❛ no, alex. you don’t get to stand here and —- and accuse me of abandoning you. i came back a LONG time ago, and you didn’t want me! you told me —- you told me you deserved better. after everything we’ve been through, YOU told me you deserved someone better than me. and maybe you do, maybe you did —- you couldn’t take the fact that i was dying and i couldn’t either so i LEFT. but one thing you DIDN’T deserve was to watch me die like i did with denny. ❜ dark eyes bore into his this time, tones sharp and thick with emotion. he was still wiping his tears when she realizes her own had begun to well in her eyes and trickle over. dammit, so much for moving on.}

            ^{❛ i don’t KNOW, okay? i don’t know why i came back, ❜ she finally says (more like shouts). she sniffles once, regaining her composure before continuing, her voice gentler this time. ❛ you can’t lie to me alex. wanna know how i know you weren’t FINE with me leaving? because i wasn’t either. and seven years later here we are standing in the same exact place that we started yelling like idiots! you are not fine and neither am i. ❜ her lower lip betrays her and trembles again as she desperately wills for both herself and for him to stop crying. the last time he broke down in her arms it was over somebody else, but now izzie was witnessing the result of her own catastrophic actions unfold right in front of her very eyes.}

          _{the weight of words unspoken, words so rotten and spoiled they’re unrecognizable, crushes him, and he can’t help the way they pour out of pressure-made fissures without his permission.  ❛ then you should have been better! you should have stayed and fought and been better! for me! because that’s what you do when you love someone. you don’t run when they push you away. you don’t — you don’t serve them divorce papers and then not answer your damn phone! if you love them, you — be better, dammit. ❜  hands that had been gesturing with every word return idly to his hips. he can’t blame her for leaving. he can’t blame her for giving up after he pushed her to so frequently, but he desperately wished that she would be the one who saw past it, who saw that he just wanted to be fought for.}

          _{and she was that person. she knew when to ignore harsh words that came so naturally to him. she knew when to tell him to SHUT UP and listen to her. she knew how to see past the miles and miles of defenses surrounding him and fight to reach him, and once she got there, she knew exactly what to say to him to let her stay; so when she relented and stopped fighting, even if it was at his insistence, he took it to mean that he wasn’t worth fighting for. self-sabotage at its finest. he had already convinced himself he was unworthy, and he pushed her until she made him feel that way. it wasn’t her fault. it was his. part of him still knows this. part of this anger is simply meant for himself and taken out on her, but he’s beaten himself up enough in her absence.}  

          _{steeling himself up, alex meets her gaze, blur blinked away enough that he might see her clearly as she continues on. her voice is softer, more soothing. it brushes away the rigidity of his shoulders and smooths out some of the creases in his forehead. he’s still angry, but he’s more rational. ( at least for now. )   ❛ i wasn’t fine when you left. ask mer. hell, ask anybody. but i made myself okay. i picked myself up. i grew the hell up. i changed. i’m not the same as i was seven years ago, iz. ❜  alex shakes his head, lips pressed into a thin line, jaw jutted forward.  ❛ i became better because you left. i made myself who you needed back then. ❜}

          _{space created by her is only furthered by him. he feels lighter with the stench of the rotten words no longer plaguing him. it’s a sensation already experienced, once he finally gave his father a piece of his mind after all those years without him. his expression, however, remains hard, unwavering. it doesn’t betray how desperately he wants to pull her into his arms and refuse to let go.}