Title: The Power of Failing (1/1)
Author: VietAngel
Rating: K
Characters: George

Summary: After Callie finds out about his night with Izzie, George ponders the state of his life.

Author's Note: This is a very short one shot that came out of nowhere…possibly the result of angst deprivation. I haven't written anything nice and angsty in a while since Bend and not Break is still in a sickeningly sweet place.

Recommended Soundtrack: Coldplay - "Warning Sign"

fail·ure (fāl'yər)–noun

1. an act or instance of failing or proving unsuccessful; lack of success

2. nonperformance of something due, required, or expected

3. a person with a record of failing; someone who loses consistently

4. deterioration or decay, esp. of vigor, strength, etc.

5. a condition of being bankrupt by reason of insolvency.

6. a becoming insolvent or bankrupt

Failure. Deadbeat. Loser. Nonperformer. Underacheiver. Washout. Flunky. Dud.

It's all he was—all he would ever be. He failed his intern exam and his career was over. He failed his friends because he wouldn't be moving on with them next year. He failed Bailey, Chief Webber, the attendings, and his parents…God, how he failed his parents. He felt horrible for letting the thought cross his mind, but he was somewhat glad that his father wasn't around to see what a loser he'd become. None of that really mattered though. In the grand scheme of things, none of it was important. The only thing that really mattered—the only reason he was on the verge of alcohol poisoning right now—was Callie.

Failure wasn't a strong enough word for his marriage. Saying that he'd failed her just didn't sound right—it wasn't enough. He cheated on her, lied to her, betrayed her…and now she was gone. He had no idea how she found out, but she knew. She had come home with tears in her eyes and confronted him about it, begged him to tell her it wasn't true. In that moment he would have given anything to be able to tell her it was all some sick joke that had gotten out of hand. In that moment, while her big beautiful brown eyes silently pleaded with him—he would have sold his soul to be able to tell her what she wanted to hear. Instead he told her the truth…and it destroyed her right before his eyes.

The look on her face was permanently etched into his memory…forever emblazoned in his mind. That image would haunt him for the rest of his life. It was funny how life could change in an instant. Just a few hours ago he was making love to her in the on-call room, listening to her scream his name with so much love in her voice. Now every trace of her was gone and the sound of her saying his name with hatred and disgust was still ringing in his ears.

He never knew you could actually see a person's heart break. A stabbing pain had slammed into his chest as he'd watched her tremble and break beneath the weight of his words. He had never seen such a look of defeat in her eyes. She wasn't pissed, she wasn't sad, she was just…shattered. He'd wanted to apologize and beg her to forgive him. He'd wanted to tell her he'd do anything she wanted if she would just give him another chance. When she told him to get out her voice was so quiet, so foreign to his ears that he couldn't find his words to protest. Instead he just did as she asked, and when he returned an hour later she was gone. All that was left was her wedding ring and a tear soaked note with only one sentence: I loved you with all I had to give.

All she had ever done was love him. All she had ever wanted was for him to love her back…and he couldn't do it. She had never asked him for anything other than a little of his time and attention…and his ear when she needed to vent. For the first time he realized how selfish he had been, and now it was too late to fix it. She had given all of herself so freely, so selflessly. Her heart, soul, and body…all laid out on a silver platter before him. What had he done with it? Knocked it out of her hands and stomped it into the ground. Instead of treating her like the precious gift she was, he'd taken her for granted. He should have cherished her like a husband was supposed to.

It should have been so simple…all he had to do was pay attention. All he had to do was pay attention to the warning signs—they could have been living their happily ever after. He closed his eyes and he could see it so clearly…a little house with a white picket fence, a dog, and a pregnant Callie chasing a tiny version of herself around with bare feet and a brilliant smile on her face.

He slammed another shot, felt the satisfying burn as the vodka blazed a trail down to his stomach. He bounced Callie's ring in his palm and wondered if he'd ever see her again…wondered if she was pregnant with his child. He hoped she would let him be a part of that child's life if she was, but he had no right to fault her if she didn't.

Bum. Castaway. Dead Duck. Born Loser…the kind of guy who would let the best thing that ever happened to him slip through his fingers.

Fin.