Izzie stepped out of her car under the moonlight and headed to the stairs of where she had come to call home. A 48-hour shift behind her, the chaos mixed with boredom of the last two days had become the usual at Seattle Grace.

As her friends gallivanted off with their significant others, she was left alone in the darkness for a night of baking, bad television, and restless sleep. Beyond the fact she was no longer speaking to George thanks to his untimely marriage to the now Callie O'Malley, Meredith and Christina had never expressed much interest in spending social hour with Izzie. Instead, they had their boyfriends, or in Christina's case, her fiancé.

Shaking her purse to find the jangle of her keys, a somewhat familiar voice sounded behind her.

"Doctor Stevens?"

Izzie's head shot straight up when she heard the chilling tone. Before she even turned around she knew it was the man she had treated earlier that day.

He had approached The Denny Duquette Memorial Clinic that morning for no reason at all. He wasn't sick or bleeding, yet he demanded treatment from the "blonde doctor," as told to Dr. Bailey. His cold eyes stared up at her when she surveyed his chart that morning.

"Do you remember me?" He had asked. She shook her head and gave a light-hearted response that for the life of her she couldn't remember now.

"That's too bad," he replied eerily. She told him to go home and get some rest, though he was reluctant to leave the clinic. As he stood, he forcefully grabbed her arm and stared her down. "I'll see you again," he told her in a whisper. Izzie tried to rip herself away from him, but he stood his ground. It was then Alex intervened and tore the man off of Izzie and urged he leave the clinic before security got there.

Alex had turned to Izzie and asked if she was all right, but her eyes drifted to the door and she watched the odd man leave the clinic and she replied with a quick "yes," but inside she feared what had just transpired.

And now, hours later, he had appeared in her front yard. She turned around slowly to confirm her suspicions.

"You see? I told you we would meet again," he said.

"What are you doing here?" She asked confidently—too confidently in fact, as the voice inside her head told her to run inside the house and lock the door. But instead she prodded him for answers.

"I thought we should see each other. Face to face."

"I don't understand, how do you know me?"

"I know all about you," he said, taking a step up the stairs. He kept moving forward as Izzie squinted toward him, trying to place him, though she knew they had never met before.

"I used to be your biggest fan," he went on. "And then you disappeared. That wasn't very nice, Bethany."

"Bethany? Bethany… Bethany Whisper," she responded quietly as it dawned on her.

"Of course, Bethany Whisper! You don't know your own name?" He yelled at her as he finally made it to the porch. "Where did you go?" He yelled again.

"I—I was in medical school, I just needed to pay off my debt, I'm not Bethany Whisper."

"Yes, yes you are," he stood in front of her under the dim light of the porch. Izzie clutched her purse and made a move for her keys. Surprisingly he did nothing to protest her movement and she took the house key out and turned away from him to open the door.

"Stay away from me," she told him as she twisted the key and unlocked the deadbolt. Her voice shook with nervousness, knowing he was still behind her. As she pushed the wooden door open she felt his cold hand grab her head and shove it into the doorframe.

Seconds later Izzie's eyes fluttered open as she lay on the ground of the foyer. She was surrounded by darkness and all was quiet. She sat up and felt her head, a bruise had formed above her temple. She then realized what had just happened and made a move to run, but was stopped by the presence of the man above her.

"Bethany…don't you love me anymore?"

"I'm not Bethany," she said resolutely, her voice now shaking with anger instead of nerves.

"It took me years to find you, but I never gave up. How could I? We're meant to be together. And I wouldn't just abandon you like you did to me."

"I'm not Bethany Whisper," she said again, this time with more volume.

"Stop it," he said. She looked up at him and made a move to get up, but he hit her. "Stop it," he said again with force. She pushed herself up again and lunged at him. Taking him off guard, she managed to land him on his back. Izzie swung her arm back to strike him but he grabbed her wrist tightly in midair.

"Stop it, Bethany!" He yelled as he stood up with her arm still in his grasp. "Are you going to be a good girl, now?" Izzie looked up at him with disgust, "No." She said and kicked at his ankles. He released her as he fell and she scrambled toward the door. The handle was in her reach but she was kicked against the table before she had the chance to open it.

The man towered over her and she couldn't help but cower beneath him.

"I didn't want to resort to this, my dear," he said, reaching for his pocket. "But you leave me no choice," he took out a knife and it flashed in front of Izzie's face as he came down to her level.

"But I need to show you how much I love you, Bethany," he said. Izzie covered up a whimper as he grabbed her shoulder and dragged her to the middle of the foyer.

"Who are you," she mustered, hoping he would reveal something about himself.

"Like you don't know," he said slyly. He was on top of her now, one hand wielding the knife, the other moving down her body.

"Please don't," she said, closing her eyes as a tear escaped down her cheek. "How else will you know I love you?" He responded to her plea. She tried to scream as he unzipped her jeans, but all she could summon was a sob.

"Be quiet," he said sharply, pressing the knife to her neck, drawing a few drops of blood.

Minutes later he stood up and buttoned his pants, looking down at a very still Izzie on the ground. "You're not Bethany," he said with obvious disappointment in his voice. "Why would you lie to me," he asked. "Huh?" He yelled down to her, but she didn't respond.

He spit at her and stepped over her horizontal body. "You're a liar," he said roughly as he stood in the doorframe. "You're not Bethany Whisper." With that he slammed the door shut, leaving the foyer in disarray and Izzie Stevens lying on the floor, torn and broken.