She had looked beautiful. Looking at her had made his chest constrict, had made his throat close, had made him feel all of the emotions that he'd been trying to suppress since he'd first realized he was falling in love with her.

He was still in love with her.

Even when she told him she was on her way to go visit Denny, the man he'd come to hate because she loved that man and not himself, he knew he was still in love with her.

So he watched her retreating figure as she walked past him and down the stairs, watched as she made her way to see the man she was hopelessly in love with. And instead of running after her and touching her hand and telling her that he still loved her, he turned and continued on his way.

The song playing was slow, the lyrics filled with passion and a hint of sadness. Alex had his back against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest. This prom thing was a waste of time. It was ridiculous.

What bothered him the most was that he wasn't dancing, and that he wasn't dancing with Izzie.

It was time to leave. There was obviously no reason for him to be there, aside from the fact that the Chief had ordered everyone to show up. Well, he'd shown up – and now he was going to head to Joe's, have a drink and go home.

The hallway was dimly lit, but it took his eyes a few minutes to adjust from the near darkness of the area he'd just come from. Further down the hall stood Bailey, her back to him, with Cristina and George huddled close to her in serious and whispered conversation. From the expression on George's face as he looked up and saw him, he knew that something was going on.

Something involving Izzie.

Alex heard the whispered name of Denny and he knew.

Denny Duquette had died. Just like Alex had always wanted.

Only, instead of feeling satisfied, he could only think about Izzie.

By the time Alex caught up with everyone, all of Izzie's friends were crowded inside the room. He could see them from where he stood, but he hesitated before drawing closer. Izzie was on the small hospital bed, tucked tight against the chest of Denny's body. The sight was unnerving. But she needed someone, and her friends looked like they had no idea what to say to her.

Slowly, he reached the doorway, unannounced, in time to hear her tell everyone to leave.

"I want to be alone with Denny." The whispered words sounded broken.

"Izzie, that's not Denny." He felt eyes turn towards him as he spoke from the doorway. The words had spilled from his mouth before he'd realized it.

"Shut up." All of the anger that he might have had towards Izzie for loving Denny instead of him vanished. She sounded defeated and desperate and he needed to fix her. Alex brushed past Meredith and Callie, immediately moving close to Izzie's side while everyone else stood awkwardly and watched. He felt a pang of sadness and guilt as he leaned over her, his mind racing to come up with the right words to say.

"Izz," He whispered. "That's not Denny. The minute his heart stopped beating he stopped being Denny. Now I know you love him, but he also loved you. And a guy that loves you like that he doesn't want you to do this to yourself, because it's not Denny. Not anymore."

Everyone was silent. Izzie looked so fragile and on the verge of breaking that it hurt him to look at her, but after taking a deep breath she began to speak.

"An hour ago he was proposing. And now he – and now he's going to the morgue. Isn't that ridiculous? Isn't that the most ridiculous piece of crap you've ever heard?" She began to sob, softly at first and then so powerfully that she didn't make a sound. Watching her, Alex could feel his heart breaking.

"Come on," He whispered, bending down to slide his arms beneath her. She continued to sob, and in one fluid motion he had her picked up in his arms. Izzie wrapped her arms around his neck, her tears wet against his skin, and everyone watched as he sat down with her next to the bed and cradled her against him.

Her body shook with her sobs as he held her, pressing his lips against her cheek and rocking her slowly. "Shh…" There was nothing more that he could say. Izzie needed to cry, and as he glanced up at everyone standing around he found that he wasn't the only one with tears in his eyes.

Slowly, everyone began to leave until Meredith and George were the only ones left. They were Izzie's family, and they were visibly upset as they watched their friend's emotions shatter. Soon her sobs became intermittent, her body relaxing as exhaustion set in. She picked up her head from his shoulder, eyes puffy and face tear-streaked.

"Just let me say goodbye."

Alex nodded and carefully helped her up. Standing, he left the room to wait outside, Meredith and George close behind.

Much like a funeral march they began to make their way slowly back to where the crowd was. Izzie walked in front, her head slightly bowed, everything about her demeanor fallen. Alex and George walked side-by-side behind her, and trailing was Meredith. They were completely silent, each lost inside their own thoughts.

Izzie stopped after they drifted past the small group of familiar faces. Turning, she faced the Chief. "It was me. I cut his LVAD wire. I did it no one helped me." Alex glanced at George, who looked as surprised as he felt. There was nothing they could do. It was her decision, and as much as it was killing all of them to hear her confess, they couldn't speak against it. "And now… I thought I was a surgeon but…. I can't. I thought I was a surgeon but I am not. So, I quit." With that she turned and headed down the stairs.

Alex and George followed her, without hesitation, maintaining a certain amount of distance behind her. With his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the curve of the back of her neck, Alex proceeded with the funeral march.

"I'll take her home," Alex said in a low voice to George once they were outside. George looked like he might start to cry, but he was being strong for Izzie. With a nod, he touched Izzie's shoulder, giving it a friendly, comforting squeeze, and turned to reenter the building.

Izzie was standing off by herself, staring blankly into the parking lot. Alex took off his jacket and went to her, gently slinging it over her shoulders. "C'mon, Izz, let's get you home," He said in a coaxing voice, and with an arm around her they slowly made it to his car. Each time Alex heard her sniffle, or gasp with a silent sob he felt pieces of his heart chip away. He wanted so badly to heal her and there was no way anyone could do that.

Once they were in the car, Izzie said something under her breath.

"I can't go home."

"Izzie, you should go home and try to get some sleep. It's been a long night." Alex found her hand and squeezed it, trying to be reassuring and comforting and strong for her all at once.

"I can't – I can't go home. Meredith and George will come home and I can't." She turned her head from looking out the window and looked directly at Alex. "I just can't."

She turned from him again, her head bowed and a hand to her forehead. Alex watched her for a few moments before turning the key in the ignition and turning the car towards his apartment. If she didn't want to go home, then he wouldn't force her to go.

Izzie had been there before, when they had been dating – or not dating – whatever it was considered at the time. So Alex wasn't surprised when she immediately went to his bedroom and laid herself carefully down on top of the comforter, curling into the fetal position. With her dress fanned out like it was, she looked like a defeated princess lying in a heap of pink, trying to hold things together.

"Is there anything I can do?" He leaned against the doorway, looking in on her. Her eyes were closed, but there were still tears trailing down her cheeks. She didn't respond.

He turned to leave but her frail voice kept him from moving. "I can't be alone," She whispered into the darkness. His shoulders fell forward and he felt defeated in his own way. "You'll never be alone Izz, not while I'm here." Instead of leaving, he made his way toward his bed and took a seat next to her. With his back to her, he let his head fall forward, his hands rubbing at his face. Alex felt drained and unsure of what to do for her. But he had to do something.

Turning, he swung his legs up onto the bed and positioned himself next to her. Gently he moved her so that she was propped up against him. "You'll always have people that love you, Izzie." Alex pressed his lips against her hair and held her again as she cried, this time not with such violent desperation but with mourning and heartache.

Alex held her until her crying subsided, until she drifted off into sleep, until hopefully her dreams would rescue her temporarily from the nightmare she had just experienced. And as he felt her breath soft and warm against his neck, he hoped that for the first time, he would finally be able to do right by her.