Author's Note: I have this image of Izzie after the last episode, which makes me love her even more. And I don't know what it is, why I came up with this, but here you go. The next one probably won't be affiliated with the way the show is going-it will be seperate. Anyway, let me know what you think.
Title: I Hope
'Ship:Really none, specifically. Izzie-centric.
I believe in the good. I believe that things will be okay, and sitting on the floor outside of Meredith's room, I keep reminding myself that. George is next to me, face blank. I think about what I said before, about how I thought marrying Callie was a bad move. While I still feel I was right in saying so, he hasn't said anything to me sense. Cristina is struggling, trying hard to not show any sign of emotion. I see her bottom lip trembling. She isn't used to this...she isn't used to forcing back emotions.
Alex is here, too. Sitting on the floor. It's only for a moment, though, because apparently there are still some people in the clinic looking for loved ones.
I did it today...I came back. I should have been nervous when I drilled the hole into the guys head, I really should have. But somehow, somehow I wasn't. It's like-It's like I'm finally coming back. And one of my best friends...I can't even tell her about it.
People shift on the floor, everyone struggling to not look at the clock, to not realize how much time has gone by...all of us knowing that with each minute, Mer's chances are slipping. My eyes shift to Derek, seeing how lost he lost he looks. To prove how seriously bad this is, Mark is actually sitting next to him-and they're not at each other's throats.
None of us are speaking? How can we? It's like if we speak, everything will change. I don't want it to change. In my mind, I want to go back to this morning, to standing in the hallway talking to Meredith about how I ate that stupid tub of butter. If I knew today was going to happen, I'd have called Derek back into the hallway...I'd ask Mer she was okay...something. Noone deserves something like this.
Everytime a door opens in the hallway, Derek perks up. But when he sees that, once again it's not Mer..his eyes grow even sadder. Sudden;y the sound of the door happens again, Addison walking to greet all of us.
She scans the crowd, looks at all of our expectant faces and sighs. "We were able to revive her...but there's a chance that she suffered considerable damage. She was under the water for quite some time. We were...able to get the heartbeat back up again, but Meredith is-she's weak."
Derek gets up, staring at her. The tension between the two of them somehow melting as Derek collapsed into her shoulder. "Thank You...Thank you."He whispers, uttering the first words that anyopne has spoken in that hallway in ages. He stands up to his full height, wiping feverously at his tears. He blinks, sighing. "Can we see her?"
Addison sends him a pained look, almost as if she suddenly sees how much Derek loves Mer. I've seen it-we've all seen it. And honestly, I'm happy for her to have someone there for her. She'll have all of us through this. "They're prepping her to go back to a private room...she's still below normal temperature. Derek-you have to understand that even when you do see her, she's...she's pale. She's-"
"I don't care. I just need...We need-"
And then it hits me. This family of ours, the family that supposedly Callie was inducted to-Derek's a part of. I knew it before, but this is only a confirmation. Because he knows how much we need to see her, too.
So Addison took Derek with her, leaving us (the interns), and Mark on the floor. He turns to me, an almost smile echoing on his face. "You did good in there, Stevens. It's glad to have you back.'
I laugh, staring down at the linoleum. Not that he knew me back before I was put on probation or anything. But still, it's something. I'm back, Mer's on her way back. Somehow, everything has a way of coming back around. I believe in the good. I believe that...somehow...everything will be alright. Even if it takes a while. Standing, I stare in at Meredith. I never realized how small she is. But she can fight. I'm back now, and I guess if she can fight, then so can I. She can do this. She's a fighter. Looking, staring at all of my friends, I think of the past year-of everything we have been through. I can't help but think that...somehow...we'll all be okay.
