"So the Chief told me you're thinking about leaving."

She whipped her head up at the sound of the masculine voice, its owner now inside her office. Feeling a confrontation on the horizon, she stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk to face him.

"He told you that?"

"He knows I like you." They both knew that his statement ran deeper than the casual manner in which it was said.

"He shouldn't have."

He shook his head , the smirk that usually graced his handsome face now a solemn frown. "I disagree."

She sighed and put down the chart she had been studying. "I'm more than thinking about it Alex. I'm making plans."

He groaned. "Plans, everyone has plans. Why can't they just enjoy where they are?"

She plopped down into a nearby chair. "That requires happiness."

Looking down at her, his frown grew more fierce. "And you aren't? Happy, I mean?"

"Not in some ways." She was hesitant to answer him. She couldn't bring herself to lie to him and completely disregard the effect that he'd had on her, like a little comforting flicker of light in sheer pitch darkness.

He sighed heavily and started to wander about the room, unable to keep still any longer, as if pacing would rub out the stress.

"So you're running?"

She couldn't stop herself from emitting a slight smirk, reminiscent of his own. "I prefer to think of it as escaping and choosing a completely new path."

Based on the look on his face, she could tell he didn't agree. Why would he? He didn't understand what she felt and though she knew she didn't have to explain it to him, she felt she owed him as much. She took a deep breath and stood up, squaring her shoulders and putting an assertive look on her face. Her movements drew his attention and he stopped pacing to stand in front of her, as if daring her to give him reasons why.

She had to take a minute and few additional deep breaths, but when she finally found her voice, the strength of her convictions was obvious.

"Seeing him and her, Derek and Meredith, it's overwhelming. There are some days where I looked over at them and find it endearing; they're cute. Yet, there's others when I simply glance their direction and see them touching or giggling and I feel the weight of eleven fucking years hit my body, like it's crushing my soul."

She stared up into his eyes, willing him to take her next words seriously. "I don't want him back. I just want an eraser, something to take away the painful past."

He peered at her skeptically. "And somewhere new will do that to you?"

She ignored him and continued, keeping her eyes focused on a spot to her side, unable to look at him.

"I don't hate him. I don't hate her. But knowing that doesn't help me sleep any better at night. Oh and then there's Mark, my favorite manwhore. No offense- you're not a very good one. It's like he thinks that life is a game- and sure, sometimes it is. But playing it with Mark Sloan is not always fun. He's a good guy, even if you don't believe it, in his own way. The thing is, it's just not mine. We're though. We ran our course. I'm drained and I'm… done."

She stopped and glanced over into his eyes, soft brown pools of liquid affection pleading with her to change her mind and desperate for her appreciation.

"What about me?" he asked quietly.

She gave him an inquisitive look. "What about you, Alex?"

He could feel burning pain sear his chest open. Did he mean so little to her that he was just a side note?

When he spoke, his voice came out in a low rasp. "What about you and me?"

She sighed heavily and shook her head, seemingly writing off the idea as impossible. "Can you heal me, Alex? Can you? Can you take away all the pain lodged in what's left of my heart? Can you remind me what's good about me? Why I am the way I am- and what's good about that? Can you tell me where my passion's gone? Where and when I lost myself? Can you?"

Her frustration had made the tension in the room thick. His eyes had been locked with hers and he felt that if he dare break that contact, he may lose her forever; lose her before he had gotten his point across.

"I can try."

She shook her head, ready to write him off again, but he wasn't going to allow it. He grabbed her shoulders and held her in place, his hands desperately clutching at her back. Knowing it was his chance, maybe his one good chance, he couldn't waste it.

"I'm not going to pretend that I have all of the answers to everything you're looking for. I don't. But I would like to be by your side as you look for them and to share the outcomes with you, whether they're good or bad." He paused. "I just want to be with you… and I want you to want to be with me."

To his relief she didn't break their eye contact, but she did exhale deeply, stressfully. He braced himself for the worst, for disappointment.

"Alex, I want more than anything to tell you that I can stay, but I can't. I can't guarantee it."

He didn't need a guarantee.

"Is there any part of you that wants to stay? And I don't mean because of some strange connection with Shepherd or Sloan or because this hospital needs you."

"I… uh…"

"Addison," he said firmly, appealing to her with his tender eyes and the warm hands that caressed her back. "Is there any part of you that wants to stay?"

She knew what he was asking and it was something she had to profoundly ask herself. Could she once again risk herself for love? Did she want to stay for Alex Karev?

"Yes."

It had come out as a whisper, but it was the answer he'd needed. He reached forward, closing the marginal distance that had separated them, and touched his lips briefly to her forehead, to her cheek, to her neck, to her lips.

"Then try."

It was all he could allow himself to ask of her for the moment and it was the only thing she was willing to give, but it was enough. There were giving themselves a chance to make it, allowing their love a tentative, but genuine try.