Thanks so much to everyone for their reviews of the last chapter! Just a side note, I've included the last paragraph of the previous chapter because this one begins right where chapter eleven left off.
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She was about to turn back toward the counter to take another bite of cobbler when her eyes caught sight of something that made her heart skip a beat in her chest. She could feel the blood literally drain from her face, and she had to grip the countertop to keep from falling from the stool. Was she going crazy? She must be, she thought, because she could swear that she just saw her son run past the kitchen into the neighboring playroom.
She took a deep, unsteady breath as she slipped slowly from her seat, her shaky knees barely supporting her weight as she stood up. It briefly occurred to her that her heart might explode inside of her chest from the rate at which it was beating. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
Izzie tentatively placed one foot in front of the other, taking slow steps toward the entrance of the playroom. She stopped just outside the door, straining her ears for any sounds inside the room. Had this entire debacle just been a long, terrible nightmare? she wondered optimistically. Was her son actually in that room?
A sob escaped her lips when she heard the sound of a child's laughter coming through the doorway, and she had to lean against the wall for support. "Ben…" she whispered hopefully, anticipation filling her heart. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to take her son into her arms, and she quickly turned the corner, coming face to face with the three year old little boy.
Tears clouded her eyes as he looked up at her and grinned, jumping to his feet and running at her with full speed, wrapping his chubby arms around her legs. She stood ridged, unmoving as he babbled happily, telling her how much he'd missed her.
Izzie suddenly heard a ringing in her ears, and she took a step backwards, gripping the wall out of fear that she might faint.
"What's the matter?" he asked her, his tiny voice breaking through the haze as he stared at her with wide, curious eyes.
She plastered a smile on her face as she looked down at him, doing her best to grin reassuringly at the little boy despite the tears in her eyes. "Nothing's wrong, sweetie," she told him with a trembling tone. "I'm fine."
"Oh, well do you want to play with me?" he asked innocently, not waiting for her to answer before walking over to the child-sized table and sitting down. "We can color!"
Izzie felt paralyzed as she watched his movements, his tiny hands picking up the container of crayons and dumping the entire box onto the table, sending them flying over the edge. He giggled as the bright colors landed on the floor, turning to look at her and giving her a sheepish grin, one that Izzie had seen on his father's face many times over the years.
"I made a mess!" he told her delightfully, another laugh escaping his lips as he turned around and opened a coloring book.
Izzie let out a breath as she stepped away from the wall, hesitantly walking over to the table and stopping behind his chair. She peaked over his shoulder, her face twisting as she saw the colorful chaos of his scribbling as he made no attempt to stay inside the lines.
She felt another sob bubbling in her throat, and she covered her mouth with her hand, masking the sound as it escaped her lips. Despite her attempt to muffle the noise, he looked up at her questioningly, and she offered him a feeble smile. "That looks great," she told him sweetly, trying to sound enthusiastic as she eyed his picture.
He smiled at her widely before looking proudly at his artwork. "Thanks!" he told her.
Her eyes shifted to the doorway when she heard movement behind her, and she saw Callie and George appear, looking worriedly at Izzie before their eyes shifted to their son. "Samuel," Callie said in an admonishing voice. "I told you to stay with us by the front door."
Samuel looked shamefully at his feet before shifting his gaze back to his parents, his expression rueful. "Sorry, Mommy," he said quietly.
Izzie flinched as he said the simple words, watching despairingly as he crossed the room and took Callie's hand in his own. The disappointment that she had felt when she had found Samuel O'Malley in her son's playroom had been overwhelming, and her pain only intensified as she saw Callie pick up her child lovingly, balancing him on her hip. Izzie suddenly felt an intense bitterness wash over her as she watched the mother and son, silently wondering why their family got to be happy while she felt so miserable.
She sighed as she wondered how in the hell she'd mistaken Samuel for her son. The two boys looked nothing alike; Sammy had his mother's dark coloring, his chocolate colored hair cut short like George's. Ben, on the other hand, was fair skinned, and his blonde curls were certainly distinctly different from Samuel's straight locks. The only similarity between the boys was their small size, but any sighted person could easily tell them a part.
Sure, she had only seen Samuel's fleeing image from the corner of her eye, but she could have sworn that he'd looked just like her child. Shouldn't a mother be able to recognize whether a person was actually her child? She sighed, running her hand tiredly over her eyes. Was she so desperate to see Ben that her mind had somehow convinced itself that it had been him running down the hallway?
Her eyes focused on Samuel when she heard his voice break through her thoughts. "My Mommy said that Ben went to Heaven," he told her matter-of-factly. "And that's why he's not having his birthday party today."
Izzie paled, a fresh wave of tears instantly springing to her eyes at his innocent comment. "Um, yeah that's true."
Samuel frowned, his head cocking to the side as he studied her face. "Are you sad?"
She couldn't stop the sob the flew from her throat as she tried to smile at Samuel. "Yeah, baby. I'm sad."
A look of embarrassment crossed Callie's face as she looked apologetically at Izzie, muttering that they had just stopped by to drop off dinner for them and that she was going to take Samuel to the car. "Do you need anything before we go?" At the shake of Izzie's head, Callie quickly disappearing through the doorway, trying to get Samuel out of the room before he could say anything further.
George's eyes followed his wife as she left the room, and then he turned back to look at his Izzie, a brief silence falling over them. "Iz, I'm so sorry," he told her eventually, tears welling in his eyes as he took a step toward her. "I'm sorry about Ben…and I'm sorry that I haven't been here for you like I should have. I just don't know what to say…I don't know how act around you."
Izzie wiped at the moisture welling in the corners of her eyes, her gaze falling to the abandoned coloring book on the table. "It's fine," she told him expressionlessly as she stared resentfully at the picture before her.
His frowned at her deadpanned tone, and he took another step toward her, his hand outstretched. "Izzie…"
"I said it's fine!" she snapped, startling him with her biting remark. George's hand fell to his side limply and he stared at her nervously, watching as a tear slipped from her eye.
Mark appeared at the door moments later, having put the meal the O'Malley's brought into the kitchen with the other dishes. "What's going on?" he asked, looking worriedly between George and his wife when he saw Izzie's pained expression.
She looked up at Mark just before her hand flew to her stomach, her other hand coming to rest atop her mouth.
"Iz?" Mark said questioningly, stepping toward her with a concerned expression on his face.
"Move," she murmured, flying past him into the guest bathroom across the hall and slamming the door behind her. The barrier did little to muffle the laborious sounds of her retching, though, and Mark and George looked awkwardly at one another.
"I'll let myself out," George uttered quietly.
Mark watched him exit the room, and then quickly made his way across the hallway, opening the door just as Izzie was standing up from the floor. She looked at him momentarily before turning to the sink to wash her mouth out, splashing some of the cool water onto her face.
After a moment, she lifted up her head, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror as she patted it dry with a hand towel. "I hate this," she whispered to her husband.
He nodded his head as he stepped forward, knowing instinctively that she was talking about something much deeper than her morning sickness. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her toward him, his eyes meeting hers through the reflection of the mirror. "I know," he told her quietly, his voice cracking. "I do, too."
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Derek stood on the skywalk at the hospital, looking at the rain that had just begun to pour outside of the massive windows of Seattle Grace with his cell phone pressed to his ear. "That's perfect," he said into the phone, a smile spreading across his face. "Thank you so much…my wife's going to love that." With a grin, he closed his phone and put it back into the lab coat of his pocket, sighing in satisfaction.
"Your wife's going to love what?" Meredith asked curiously from behind him, stepping forward to stand beside her husband.
Derek smiled slyly at her as she looked at him inquisitively, not at all surprised to see her standing before him. "Eaves dropping, Meredith?" he asked, his tone mocking. "I'm shocked at you."
Her eyes narrowed at his sarcasm, and she teasingly hit him in the shoulder. "Tell me who you were talking to," she demanded, doing her best to sound tough.
He pursed his lips together, pretending to think intently before shaking his head. "No…no, I don't think so," he told her, thoroughly enjoying watching the irritation that was quickly spreading across her face.
She pouted, sticking out her lower lip. "Derek," she whined, bringing her hand up to his arm and caressing him through his layers of clothing.
He laughed, staring at her disbelievingly. "Nope, sorry, you won't get a word out of me," he said, amused at her expense. "It's a surprise."
He turned around and began to walk away, but she followed him, matching him step for step as she sulked beside him. "I hate surprises," she told him as she struggled to keep up, unwilling to drop the subject.
"You do not," he told her, his smile growing.
"Just tell me what you're up to," she said with exasperation, huffing breathlessly next to him. "And slow down! I can't walk that fast because I'm carrying your child."
He stopped abruptly, and she halted beside him gratefully. He smiled at her sweetly, bringing his hand up to gently caress her face as he looked at her, his face apologetic for walking so quickly. "I love you, but you're not getting any information out of me," he told her, kissing her cheek lightly. "Come on, Mer. You need this; you need a happy surprise right now, okay?"
Meredith groaned in frustration as he hurried away from her, watching as he disappeared down the corridor. Just before he turned the corner, she huffed irritably. "You can be so annoying!" she yelled to his disappearing figure, frowning as she heard his hearty laugh in response.
In reality, though, she was appreciative of Derek's gesture. She smiled as she turned to walk in the opposite direction, the wheels of her mind turning as she though of the possibilities of Derek's surprise, her only hope being that he was planning something that would help her get over the nearly constant ache in her heart.
