Prologue

The night sky seemed to stretch for miles, the stars twinkling like diamonds laid upon black velvet. The moon was a perfect sphere, casting a soft glow upon the world. Crickets sang their song somewhere in the night, various other nocturnal creatures chiming in upon occasion. The scent of roses clung to the air, along with a hint of jasmine. It was, in truth, the perfect night. For what wasn't apparent. One did not question a perfect night by pondering what the night was perfect for. One simply enjoyed.

Closing her eyes, she let the perfect night swirl around her, not caring that the slight breeze was on the cool side. Perhaps it only felt cool, as the white dress she wore was more conducive of a day in the sun, rather than a perfect night. Not that it much mattered. In that moment, nothing mattered.

In the distance, the form of a man appears. He seems to emerge from the night. A faceless stranger that makes her heart beat faster. There was a connection between them. An undeniable pull. As strong as the pull was, the closer she drew to him, the more he seemed to fade into the night. A lesser person would ignore the pull, would admit that sometimes love was just not meant to be. There was no doubt that what she felt for the faceless man was love. It seemed to burn deep within her soul. Reaching out a hand, she calls for him to wait, that she loves him. The man turns, his face taking form. He whisper's her name. The voice is one she knows, but cannot quite place, although she knows she should be able to. He says her name again, this time bit louder, his voice taking on a more feminine pitch. She frowns slightly when her name is repeated once more, this time the voice most definitely feminine…

"Izzie!"

A pair of large brown eyes flies open. The perfect night disappears, in its place is a rather dismal break room with cracked Formica table and split plastic chairs. Disinfectant took the place of the sweet smelling flowers. And, instead of the love of her life, one Dr. Meredith Grey stands before her, a hand braced on the door jam on either side of her.

"Were you sleeping?"

It was a fair question. More than fair given the state Meredith had found her in. Dr. Izzie Stevens smiles sheepishly, her cheeks flushing. "I was just resting my eyes." Even to her own ears the answer sounded weak.

Meredith laughs. "Right. You were so sleeping." Pulling out a chair across the table, she sits. A soft sigh escapes her lips. "Don't let Bailey catch you."

"I won't. Besides, I wasn't sleeping. I was…"

"Just resting your eyes," Meredith interrupts. "Right. That is what we all say. How long have you been here?" She slumps, the sound of aged plastic creaking filling the room.

Izzie frowns, trying to recall the exact time she had come in. It had been yesterday, she knew that much. "I don't know. Sixteen, maybe seventeen hours. Why?"

"Why? She asks why. Izzie, you know why. You know the rules." Meredith shakes her head, dark blonde hair falling over her face. She blows the unruly waves out of her face, laughing when they fall back in her eyes.

"Rules. Right. Like we can really afford to follow the rules." Izzie stifles a yawn. It was a rat race, this thing they called life. If they wanted to get ahead, they couldn't take the time to ponder whether or not they were following rules set by some high faulting board member who never stepped outside their comfy cozy office. She starts to say something more; to tell Meredith what she really thought of the rules when the high pitched shrill of a beeper fills the room. Both women reach for the small, rectangles attached to their scrub pants. "It's mine," she holds the black pager up, pinched between her thumb and forefinger, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Meredith smiles, her mouth poised to make some catty remark about better Izzie than her when the annoying beep fills the air again. "Looks like it's both of us."

"Fun, fun, fun," Izzie mutters as she follows Meredith out into the hallway. It was a mad-house compared to the relative quiet of the break room. Tired, over worked nurses rushed in an attempt to fill orders placed by exhausted doctors. Frazzled attendings scourer an already crowded board to fit in one more surgery.

"Dr. Stevens!"

Turning, Izzie almost collides with Olivia. The petite red-headed nurse stands there a moment, trying to catch her breath. The dark circles under her eyes say she is just as exhausted. "Room 2213 needs permission to eat solids. Room 2467 has spiked another fever, and the area immediately around the incision is red and warm to the touch. There also seems to be more swelling than normal. The man we released this morning from 2219 is back. Came in through the Clinic. Reopened his incision. Oh, and we have a new admit, 2157. Looks like it's a broken arm. Which I know belongs to Ortho, but none of them are answering their pages. So…"She trails off as she pauses to take a breath.

"Typical," Izzie mutters. Holding her hand out, she motions for Olivia to hand her the charts. Not waiting to see if the rather annoying nurse is following, she starts down the hallway. Ortho was always busy. 'Busy having babies with my best friend,' she thinks bitterly. Ex-best friend, if she was really honest. There were words said that neither George nor her could take back. If she was brutally honest, she wasn't even certain she wanted to take them back. Callie was wrong for George. Just plain wrong. She couldn't figure out what George seen in her. The other women he had dated, Olivia being one of them, were small, needy. Callie was larger than life, dominating; controlling.

"Several construction workers fell off some scaffolding," Olivia says hesitantly. "Lot's of broken bones."

Izzie looks over her shoulder, her annoyance written on her face. Wasn't it just typical that Olivia would defend Callie? Neither woman was good enough for George. Olivia had given him syphilis; Callie had strong armed him into marriage, and then sealed the deal by getting pregnant right away. 'And whose to say that baby even belongs to George,' she silently complains. 'Everyone knows that Callie hopped from George's bed to Dr. Sloan's, then back to George's.' She wasn't certain if everyone knew that tid bit of information or not. She knew, though.

"I'm just saying…they're busy. Not that you're not busy. Clearly, you're busy. Just…" Olivia sighs, realizing there was no getting through to Izzie.

"Not as busy?" The question oozed with sarcasm. There were days she appreciated nurse, the hospital wouldn't run properly without them. Then, there were days, like today, that she had to question their mentality. Flipping open a chart, she frowns. "What's wrong with room 2215 again?"

"2213, and there isn't anything wrong with them. I need you to sign off on her eating solids. The poor woman has been on an oh so wonderful liquid diet. For two weeks. She can't go home unless her bowels are moving properly. Her bowels can't move properly if she's eating green jello." It was Olivia's turn to drip sarcasm.

Izzie bites her tongue to keep from making a comment that would earn her a trip to the Chief's office. She scribbles her name on the appropriate form, slapping the chart shut. Tossing it toward Olivia, she narrows her eyes. "There. Now your patient can eat something other than green jello."

Pushing open the door to room 2157. If the woman really did have a broken arm it would need set. No point in taking her frustrations and exhaustion out on a patient. "Good afternoon Mrs. Gonzales. I'm Dr. Stevens. Let's take a look at that arm."

So it began. Another five hours of making the rounds. It seemed that around every corner was another case screaming her name. It was as though she was the only doctor capable of answering pages. This wasn't true. The others were just as busy. A glance at the board had told her that Cristina was in OR 9 with Dr. Burke, removing part of a man's lung. Meredith was in OR 2 with Dr. Bailey. Repairing damage done to some man's abdomen. One of the infamous construction workers that had fallen. The only two missing from the board had been George and Alex. George was in the Pit. He had been assigned there earlier. Alex could be anywhere. She had seen him a few times. Always in the middle of something.

Sinking onto a toilet stool, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. She tries not to laugh. Answering the call of nature served a double purpose. Eliminate the fullness of her bladder and give her feet a much needed rest. Flushing, she shoulders the stall door open. She stops short when she sees Cristina leaning toward the mirror, applying a thin coat of pale pink lipstick. "Don't tell me you're actually going someplace that doesn't reek of disinfectant or bodily fluids."

"Some of us actually have lives." Cristina uses the tip of her pinky finger to remove a bit of lipstick from her front teeth.

"I have a life," Izzie protests. Soap runs off her hands and into the sink. She watches the white bubbles disappear down the drain. There one moment, gone the next.

"Keep telling yourself that," Cristina rubs her lips together, dropping the tube into the small cosmetic bag sitting on the ledge over the sink.

"Keep telling whose self what? Someone fill me in." Meredith shuffles in, heading for the nearest stall.

"Izzie. She thinks she has a life. I told her to keep telling herself that. Who knows, maybe one day," Cristina grins over at her, "if you say it enough, it'll happen."

"Ha-ha. I have a life. Ask Meredith." The only reply they received was the sound of the toilet flushing. Crossing her arms, she stares at her rather haggard looking roommate. Meredith gives her a rather sad looking smile. "Oh come on! Meredith!"

"I'm sorry! You don't really have much of a life. At least not outside of the hospital, anyways." Meredith pumps some soap into the palm of her hand, then twists the water on with the other. She glances over at Izzie while she scrubs. "You never go anywhere. It's here or home."

"See. No life," Cristina shakes her head, tousling her dark curls into some resemblance of a hair do. "You should let me set you up with one of Burke's friends."

"Burke has friends that work here?" Meredith raises one perfectly arched eye-brow, shaking her damp hands over the sink.

"Yeah. Some guys he plays with. There is one, Gordon. He's a trumpet player. Gorgeous. Has these intense green eyes and this voice that makes a woman go all ooey and gooey inside." She shivers to prove her point.

Izzie resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Thanks, but no. I'm perfectly happy. I don't need some green eyed panty dropper to feel like I have a purpose."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't hurt. Guaranteed to get laid at least once," Meredith teases, flicking her still damp fingers in Izzie and Cristina's direction. Izzie shakes her head. "Fine. Don't get a little something something with Burke's sexy green eyed trumpet playing friend. At least come hang out with Derek and me tonight."

"Right. Playing third wheel to you and McDreamy is exactly how I want to spend my one and only night off." Even as she said the words, it was tempting to do just that. Anything not to sit home alone. She frowns. Was that what her life had come to? Being the third wheel on her roommate's dates? How pathetic she had become.

"Alex will be there. We're just having drinks at Joe's." Meredith's soft blue eyes plead with her. She bites her lip. "Come on. It'll be fun. Kind of like old times."

Old times. Meaning before she had fallen for Denny. Before Denny had died. Before she had fallen into this depressive routine she called life. "Okay. Fine. I'll meet you at Joe's. But," she adds when Meredith grins, "I'm going home first. I need a shower."

"Yeah you do." Cristina yelps when Meredith pinches her arm. She rubs the offended spot, scowling. "What? She said it first. I was only agreeing with her."

Meredith shakes her head and then smiles at Izzie. "Eight o'clock?"

Izzie nods before exiting the bathroom. Pushing her hair off her face, she almost collides with Bailey. "Sorry," she mumbles, not bothering to cover her yawn. There was no point in pretending she wasn't walking around in a sleep deprived haze.

"How long have you been here Stevens?" Crossing her arms, Bailey stares at her, a frown on her deceptively sweet looking face. There was nothing remotely sweet about Bailey. The woman had the well earned nick-name The Nazi.

"Um, around twenty-six hours?" She had lost count. Who knew how long she had been there. She certainly had no clue. The only coherent thought she could process was bed.

"Home. Now." Bailey shakes her head as walking off. Izzie let's out a sigh of relief. Part of her had been afraid she would have to pull another shift. Not that she would have lasted another shift. She had no idea how she was going to stay awake long enough to have those drinks at Joe's with Derek, Meredith, and Alex. Agreeing to go had been stupid.

'So tell her you can't go,' a small voice in her head suggests. The voice belonged to that small part of her that wouldn't let go of Denny. That voice was what kept her from moving on. Every step she took toward living life without him, that voice was there, reminding her that Denny was gone.

Slamming her locker shut, she methodically changes into a pair of low rise faded jeans and tiny white t-shirt. The two didn't meet, leaving a strip of tan skin and a butterfly tattoo exposed. A few feet away George stood staring into his locker. She wanted to beg him to stop being so childish. So she didn't get along with his wife, that didn't mean they had to stop being friends. He had to know his shunning her only made her hate and resent Callie even more. She starts to say something, then decides against it. She was too tired to deal with the argument that would ensue. One last glance in his direction, then, with a tired sigh, she exits the locker room. If anyone spoke to her on her walk to the parking lot, she didn't hear them. It was as though she had a one track mind. Home and bed.

As though they were entune, the car started the moment her cell phone rings. Meredith. A reminder that she wasn't going straight to bed. "Mere, I'm exhausted." She checks the rearview mirror before pulling out. Cursing as the sky opens up and rain starts to pour, she flicks her wipers on. "Yeah. I know. Oh, don't even. There is no way I am letting you guilt trip me into coming to Joe's. Right. Somehow I doubt that Alex's feelings are going to be hurt because I'm not there moping in the beer." Meredith rattles on, she only half listens. She would go. If for no other reason than to shut Meredith up. "Fine! I'll be there. Just let me turn around. No. I'll just take a shower later. Yes. I'm turning around right now. Bye!" Shaking her head, she looks down at her phone as she snaps it shut. Her head jerks up when a truck horn blares. Head lights glare through the windshield. Her eyes widen before the world goes black.