Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own this. Would I be on this site if I did?

A/n: AU. Random inspiration from several sources combined, plus a scrap of dialogue that refused to leave my head. Reeeaaallly not sure how I feel about this one, so take this however you will, just let me know what you thought. Alex fans probably won't like it much though – just a warning. Oh, and I'm not explaining anything. You'll just have to piece it together as you go. And this wasn't betaed, so mistakes are all mine. :D

The day started out relatively ordinary for her. She got up, made her husband breakfast, handed him his lunch and kissed his cheek as he headed out the door. He stopped to apologize once again for the previous night and she forgave him as she always did. Shortly after, she dressed in a long sleeve shirt despite the warm weather outside, grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

Once at the grocery store, she idly browsed up and down the aisles trying to decide what she could and couldn't afford. She tried to differentiate between what she wanted and what she actually needed. She was staring critically at the back of a bag of "Healthy Chips" when he came up cautiously beside her, peering at her with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

"Izzie?"

She was startled and nearly dropped the chips when she heard his voice. "George!" she said in surprise. Her face split into a wide grin. "Oh my goodness, hi!"

He grinned back and set down his basket in order to hug her tight.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in Iraq!"

"I am. Well, I was." He answered with a shrug. "I'm on a short leave."

"It's so good to see you." She looked him over and thought about good he looked in uniform though she wasn't sure she liked how short his hair was.

"You too." he said and followed suit, taking a second to look her over as well. He noticed she was wearing little makeup and was wearing old, ill-fitting clothes and she looked very worn down. He figured he must have caught her on a bad day and refrained from commenting.

"So…" She shifted awkwardly. "We have a lot to catch up on."

"Absolutely." He hesitated briefly then asked, "Do you maybe want to go grab a quick coffee or something?"

She glanced down at her shopping cart and then nodded. "Actually, that'd be really nice."

Approximately fifteen or so minutes later, after they had paid for their groceries and stashed them in the back of his beat up Jeep, the pair walked to the nearby coffee shop. She ordered a light mocha with skim milk and extra whip cream and he commented that there was no point in getting the "healthy" choice of skim milk if she was just going to heap on the whip cream. She countered that his double-double with a shot of espresso was hardly any better and he explained that he simply didn't bother trying to be healthy which somehow made it more ok.

The banter between them felt good. It felt like old times and it felt like something that had been missing for so long for each of them was back, like finding a favorite sweatshirt after months of having it lost amongst laundry. As the coffee in their cups dwindled, the conversation slowed and stalled. It wasn't awkward exactly, but there was so much unspoken between that it hung in the air like thick veil. So at first, they stuck to small talk.

"So how has it been in Iraq?" She asked.

"Amazing and life-changing." He answered. "Owen and I make a really great team. He's taught me so much, and being over there is such a different, crazy world. It's nothing like anything here, of course. It's… yeah."

He trailed off with a distant look in his eye that she couldn't quite explain. He took a sip of his coffee and she realized how much older he looked. His face was much less rounded than she remembered; his bright blue eyes somehow a darker, more intense shade. He was changed, she realized. Whatever he saw daily in Iraq changed him deeply.

"So what about you? How's being married?" He asked.

She smiled a little. "Oh, it's nice. Ever since I stopped working at the hospital, I've had so much time for myself. I'm a good little house wife." She laughed. "Things are different than I expected them to be, I think, but it's such a wonderful experience. It's… good."

She trailed off too, with a far away look that he couldn't quite explain. She slowly drank some of her mocha and he realized how much older she looked. She looked weary and dull, not like the girl he remembered. Her beautiful eyes didn't seem as bright and optimistic. She was changed, he realized. Whatever had happened since he left had changed her deeply.

The small talk went on and off for quite some time, until one or both of them were glancing covertly at their watches.

"Well, I better get going." She said and smiled. "He usually calls at lunch to talk and if I'm not home to answer, he gets crusty."

He chuckled but stopped abruptly as she tipped back the last of her coffee and her sleeve slid down her arm revealing a huge bruise. "Holy crap, Iz, what'd you do?"

"Oh, that?" She suddenly averted her eyes and though she replied in a light tone, there was something very wrong. "I'm such a klutz. I was vacuuming yesterday and totally wiped out on the stairs. Got this sucker for my troubles."

He didn't know what to do and didn't know if he had a right to say anything. He'd been gone for almost six years and hadn't talked to in her more than two. He'd moved away from the position of best friend a long time ago and figured he barely counted as an acquaintance anymore.

"You fell?" He questioned cautiously.

"Yeah. No big deal." Her smile was too forced.

He may have been gone for a long time, but he still knew her.

"You didn't fall," He said very softly and looked her straight in the eye. "Did you?"

She started to nod, to protest. But George – her George, her best friend George, the one she could never really lie to, the one she had missed for far too long – was staring back at her. She felt the tears well up. She shook her head only slightly.

"No," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn't."

He turned away, trying to suppress his anger. He had no right to feel this way. Not after everything…

"Why'd you marry him?" He asked, abruptly facing her.

She sighed. "George…"

"No, go ahead. I want to know."

"I… he…" She shook her head and thought for moment before answering. "He was there for me. Through the cancer, the miscarriages, Mom's death – everything. He loved me – loves me, and… I thought I could make a happy life with him."

"And have you?"

She looked sharply at him. "Don't you dare, George O'Malley. Don't go there. You don't know what I've been through. You were halfway across the world while I had the hardest six years of my life. You don't get to say anything about what my life is like right now."

A stony silence descended between them for a few moments as she let him digest her words and he tried to come up with a suitable reply. Nothing came, so he simply said,

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." She said in the saddest tone he'd ever heard her use.

He met her eyes again and saw so much pain. His heart ached and it wasn't the first time he regretted leaving for Iraq all that time ago.

"I needed you, George. I needed you. Where were you? When I was diagnosed with cancer, you disappeared. I was fighting for my life and you never came." She started to choke on the emotion building in her chest. "I needed you more than anyone and you didn't come."

Somehow he had never realized how deeply he'd hurt her. Sure, Meredith had told him about her depression, but he thought it had to do with the cancer. Cristina had told him about the miscarriages and he'd emailed her his sympathy. The last email he'd received from Izzie was the one about her mother passing away and he told her he wished he could be at the funeral for her. He hadn't comprehended until this moment what he'd done to her.

"I was scared."

"So was I." She said and tears began to slide down her cheeks. "I didn't care if you were scared or angry or upset, I just… After all those years of you always being there for me, through everything, big or small, the one time I needed you above all else, you weren't there."

He reached for her hand. "I wanted to be."

She pulled it away. "Then why weren't you?"

"I tried to be."

"No you didn't." She wiped her eyes forcefully.

It was his turn to speak in a quiet but harsh tone. "Yes, I did. I let you have your space. I let you date Alex even though I hated to see him with you. I knew something was wrong, long before you would admit it. I told Alex something was wrong. He told me – warned me to back off. I told Meredith something was wrong. She told me you would say if something was really wrong. I remembered your birthday when the others didn't and you barely acknowledged me. I told you I was always there for you, that I still cared about you and that you could always tell me anything. And you went and told Cristina about the cancer. I had to find out from Bailey who found out from Cristina."

She swallowed as she listened to him, finally seeing his side of the story. It hardly excused him, and the hurt she'd harbored since he left still felt raw. She hadn't known about him trying to tell Alex and the others of her strange behavior, nor had she realized she'd been so distant from him as she began dating Alex again. How could she not have realized sooner? As she thought back on it, it was painful how poorly she treated her friends, most of all George. She supposed he had a right to use such a bitter tone as he spoke, especially since he seemed to have also been harboring his pain for just as long as she had.

"I was scared I was going to lose you cancer." He continued. "But I was even more scared I had already lost you. I couldn't face you. I couldn't… Dad died from cancer and I couldn't… I was too scared - I was a coward. I let Alex take care of you because I thought that's what you wanted. I stayed away because that's what I thought you wanted. And I left to go to Iraq with Owen before the end of your treatment because I couldn't handle the idea of seeing you dying. I thought if I was far enough away, you would make it through alright with the people you cared about and I could learn to get over you."

He had tears in his eyes now too. They wondered how a wound they both thought they'd healed from felt so fresh at that moment. They stayed like that for several long minutes, staring across the table, lost in memories and drowning in the pain they'd caused one another. How differently their lives had turned out than they had ever thought possible. How far away from each other had they become when they once thought they were inseparable and unstoppable.

He was the first to break eye contact as he turned his gazed downwards to his empty coffee cup.

"I leave to go back tomorrow." He said.

"Oh. Right." She nodded and dried her eyes quickly.

A long pause.

"Well…"

"Yeah…"

"It was good to see you." He said in a low voice, etched with regret.

She matched his tone, emotion for emotion. "You too."

A/n: I don't know where this came from. It just… came. And wouldn't leave. I would love any feedback/thoughts. Thanks for reading, and reviews are like oxygen. ;)