Sunlight streamed through the windows and a soft clicking sound caused her eyes to flutter open. "Ugh," she groaned as her head began to throb. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to remember just what in the hell she had done the night before. Had she been out drinking? No, she didn't feel nauseous. So then why was her head pounding? Oh. OH.

She squeezed her eyes shut as her heart ached within her chest. Memories of the previous night overwhelmed her as they came flooding back and for a second she thought she was going to cry again. Stop it Izzie, you're stronger than this. She took a deep breath as she pushed herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. "Jesus," she muttered when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had mascara smudged under her eyes. She definitely was not a pretty sight.

"Uncle George!" She glanced over her shoulder and quickly splashed some water on her face before heading out to see her friend walk in with some coffee and a pastry bag. "Hey," she muttered somewhat sheepishly as she made her way into the kitchen. She felt like an ass for calling him over the night before and having him deal with her heartache, but at the time she had no one else she could turn to.

He offered her a smile and handed her the scone, which then caused a smile to finally light up her face. God she loved that man hard, it was just a shame they were too much like family. Her heart cringed at the thought, a feeling of guilt striking it to the core. It didn't even want her to consider moving on, it wasn't ready to let go. Even after six years of being without him her heart was still hanging on for dear life. A bitter laugh sounded in her head and she had to shake away the thought. It was ironic how every time she felt some sort of attraction toward another man she felt like she was betraying the one she had walked away from.

Silence lingered between the two friends as they watched her son play in the living room while they sat next to each other on the couch. She could sense that George seemed a bit antsy about something, and when she had finally pried it out of him, her stomach dropped and her eyes went wide. "You what!"

She didn't know what to think let alone say and her best friend was suddenly looking very guilty. Well, that was up until he told her to pull her head out of her ass and figure out what she really wanted. Okay so maybe he had stuttered some and didn't use those exact words, but that was the main message he had conveyed. So that was the question, what did she really want?

"He's leaving today?" she asked as she stood to pace around the room. "Yeah, said he wasn't going to come back." Her brow furrowed and she looked down at her son who was coloring with a fierce determination. "Like hell he is."

Izzie ran for the phone and quickly called the airport, doing everything in her power to remain calm and keep her heart from catching in her throat. It was easy enough to get them to put her through to his cell since they were both doctors and she knew way too many polysyllabic words to throw at them to make the situation seem life threatening. "Come on Alex," she mumbled as she waited with baited breath on the other end of the line. "Please don't be on that plane yet."

Alex was sitting in a semi comfortable chair at the proper terminal, his legs stretched out before him. His head still hurt, but now the pain was more of a dull ache and not a throbbing, mind-consuming burn. Now he felt detached from the day before, as if the events had never happened to him. Repression was a beautiful way of moving on, though it came with the risk of showing up at the worst times and causing grief and stress when it was unwelcome.

If someone were to split him open he wouldn't be surprised if there was nothing but a swirling, frigid, vacant air. Isolated landscape of his insides. Of course he didn't mean his physical body, but his emotional body if such a thing existed. Alex Karev: dead inside. There was only so much he could take and so many times he could be broken by the woman he used to regard as a golden-haired angel.

Something was delaying the flight by fifteen minutes. Grumbling could be heard all around him and he tuned out the faceless crowd by opening the newspaper of earlier to finish it. Nothing too interesting seemed to be happening around these parts, just the usual day-to-day details that made up a meaningless conglomerate of suburban life. Glad I don't live here.

In his pocket his cell phone began to vibrate, mildly surprising him before he realized what it was. Flipping it open and swallowing a sigh of irritation, he didn't bother to issue a greeting. "I'm not even on the plane yet, can't this wait until I'm back?" Silence for a moment. Strange. Everyone from the office was used to him answering the phone like that.

"Alex it's me, sorry but I had to—"

A flash of anger. "I thought we discussed everything we needed to discuss last night."

"Would you shut the hell up for a second and let me talk?" She sounded frustrated. Inwardly he smiled with satisfaction. He stopped talking. Waited. "Don't go. I…I don't want you to go." The way she sounded made his heart stop, but only for a split second before he remembered that he was no longer going to have emotions. Not about this. It was done, over, finished.

"They just started boarding." A quick movement of his hand and the phone was shut with a click. No goodbye. No arguing. No nothing. Clean incision, easy suture, no infection. Perfect.

Like a zombie he got up and boarded the plane, smiling a fake but believable smile at the flight attendants. As always he had booked all of the seats in his row so that he would be completely alone, and as he settled into the cushy leather he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.