Moving in the Right Direction (or Alex's Denny)

Disclaimer: Just borrowing from Shondaland.

This is my first Grey's fic. I've written for West Wing and Lost on other sites. I just recently got caught up on Grey's over the strike, thanks to DVD's, so this season finale was the first one I saw as it actually happened. I love reviews, so let me know what you think.

I was so moved by Alex and Izzie's storyline last night, that I knew this had to be written. It is what I think transpired after Alex asked Izzie "Please..."

"Please ... please ..."

My heart was breaking. I hated seeing him like this. So devastated. So broken. So alone. Going in a totally different direction than he should be.

He thought sex was the answer. It would be his escape from the reality of what the past, both distant and recent, had done to him.

But it wouldn't make everything better. I knew this. So I gave him what I could. I held him. His words gave way to sobs that continued through a good part of the night. Nothing was said for hours. He just continued to break. In the house that was empty, except for the two of us, he was letting his guard down. Releasing pent up emotions.

Eventually, his cries subsided. I still held him as exhaustion took over, and he curled up in the fetal position sideways on the bed. I felt an occasional tear fall to my hand under his head, but he was still and silent, dreams having taken the place of real life.

As we lay there, my mind drifted back to all that the two of us had been through. Sure he could be an arrogant ass. Evil Spawn, even. I choked back a giggle as I thought of Cristina's early nickname for him. But he always had a heart, even though I was often the only one who saw it.

He hurt me ... more than once.

But there was always a spark about him that made me smile ... until recently. That spark had died a slow painful death over the last few weeks. I wanted that back, but I'm not sure he'll be able to fully recover from this.

Eventually I succumbed to sleep myself, my heart still aching for the man beside me.

The sun was out and birds were chirping when I finally awoke. Alex hadn't moved from his spot on the bed, and my arms were numb from holding him for I don't know how many hours.

I heard someone, Meredith I assumed, downstairs in the kitchen. I walked through the still-opened door of Alex's bedroom and headed down the stairs.

"Morning."

"You're in a good mood," I said bluntly. I was really not in the mood for chipper. I grabbed a coffee cup from the cupboard, filled my cup, and sat down on one of the bar stools surrounding the island.

"I am." Meredith had this goofy grin on her face that typically would have me begging to find out what went on last night. Today I wasn't worried about Meredith. My mind was still upstairs with Alex. "Derek and I got to drink the champagne we were saving."

"The trial worked?"

"Yeah. It worked."

"I'm happy for you," I said, not really sounding all that thrilled. An awkward silence enveloped the room.

"Izzie, what happened last night? With Alex?"

I looked down at the cooling drink in my hand.

"I can't really talk about it."

"Did you get Rebecca some help." Meredith put the cereal bowl she had been eating out of in the sink and moved to sit on the stool next to me.

"Yeah. She's going to Lanceview today."

"Good. And Alex?"

"Like I said, I can't really talk about it. He's just ... he's heartbroken, you know."

"He couldn't protect her. I understand. You don't have to say anymore."

"Thanks."

Meredith looked me in the eyes, searching for something.

"What?"

"He's going to be okay, you know."

"Maybe eventually."

"Izzie. He will be okay because he's got people that care about him right here in this house. And at the hospital. Can I tell you something? When I saw the two of you on his bed this morning ... don't look at me like that, the door was open ... When I saw the two of you, do you know what I thought of? Denny."

"Denny? Wha- Why?"

"When you were laying in Denny's hospital bed in your prom dress, hair perfect, with mascara running down your face, we were paralyzed. Me, George, Cristina ... we didn't know what to do. How to help you. Alex did. He told you exactly what you needed to hear. He picked you up off the bed and held you and let you grieve. He knew how to help you. Just like you are doing now."

"Rebecca is his Denny," I said with realization.

"In a twisted, crazy sort of way, yeah. And guess what? You made it through. You've survived losing Denny. That's how I know that Alex will survive this. Because you are there for him, just like he was there for you. And Cristina and George and I will back you up. We'll get him through it."

I sit there silent for a moment, processing what Meredith was saying.

"Wait a second, since when are you the ever-present optimist? That's my job."

Meredith laughed. The laugh turned into a smile, and she looked ... peaceful.

"I don't know what went on with you and McDreamy last night, and quite frankly I don't need details, but I'm assuming you didn't get home too early last night."

"About 45 minutes ago. He told Rose it was over."

I chuckled, thinking of the contrast between the night that she had experienced and the one that I had.

"I'm happy for you. Really."

"Thanks. I've got to get to work. You're off today, right?"

"Yeah. So is Alex. I think he'll probably sleep most of the day. We'll just hang out here I think. I don't want to leave him alone."

Meredith grabbed her keys and her bag as she headed for the front door.

"Good idea. Don't wait up for me tonight."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She waved over her head as she disappeared.

I spent the next hour cleaning up the kitchen, trying to ignore the tiny stray droplet of blood on the floor under the stool as I wiped it away. As I did so, I heard footsteps behind me. I stood up see Alex, in his jogging pants, walk out the door. I followed and peered out the window, watching him as he started to run down the street. I silently said a prayer that he would be back soon.

It was a nice spring day, so I took a glass of lemonade out onto the front porch and sat there with a book to read, although I wasn't paying too much attention to the words.

An hour later, as I was beginning to get a little concerned about Alex, he turned the corner at the end of the street. I could see sweat was dripping down his unclothed back as he jogged up into the yard.

He slowed when he saw me. Our eyes met and once he saw that I wasn't going to give him the third degree, he sat beside me on the stairs breath still quick after his exercise.

We sat in comfortable, but slightly tense, silence for a while, before he spoke up.

"I'm sorry, okay."

"For what?"

"For not letting you help me. For trying to take care of everything myself. For treating you so bad last night at the hospital ... For unloading all of that onto you. For trying to get you to sleep with me-"

"Alex, stop." I turned put down my book and turned to look at this man, whose eyes were still filled with the pain of the night's events. "You don't owe me an apology. You weren't yourself. You weren't thinking clearly. I understand that."

"Still ... it was wrong. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, Iz. You haven't done anything except try to help me."

"You're my friend. Of course I'm going to try to help you ... like you did for me."

He looked at me with a slightly confused look on his face.

"With Denny," I clarified. "You were there, even when no one would have blamed you if you weren't. You didn't like him, but you cared enough about me to let that go. To take care of me. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you suffer through this alone. You didn't do anything to deserve this. Any of it. Not with your mom, not with Rebecca. It's not your fault."

My hand was resting on his arm by now. He seemed unable to believe me, by the look on his face.

"Look, I know that you are grieving. That your heart feels like its being ripped out of your chest. But just know that I'm always going to be here. So are Meredith, and even Cristina and George. We're family ... a screwed up family, sure ... but family nonetheless. You're one of us, and we'll get you through it. Okay?"

He brought his hand up to my chin, touching it softly.

"Thank you, Iz. I haven't said it, but thank you."

He placed a kiss on my cheek, one that was filled with anguish, fear, strength, and hope. We sat there a while longer, and I put my head on his shoulder.

Life seemed to be moving in the right direction yet again.