A/N: So here's another update. Not as quick as I would have liked, but hey, at least it was quicker than six months, right? So anyway, I'm not totally satisfied with this chapter, but it's 2 in the morning and well...here it is. I may tidy it up later. Thanks to those to review and to those who read but don't review. I love you all!Carrie

"It seems that I may care for you more than I ever thought I would. More than I ever wanted to."

"You said you wouldn't fall in love with me," Izzie said softly, hanging her head, her tears now flowing freely.

Mark could only stare at her. "Okay… I have to say, that was not the type of response I expected," he said, unsure of what to make of the situation.

"You can't."

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, now very confused.

"I said, 'you can't'," Izzie repeated, looking at him sorrowfully. "Mark, you can't fall in love with me."

Chapter 26: One Piece at a Time

Mark fell back into the chair in shock. "I can't fall in love with you?" he asked, staring at the floor, his tone straddling the line between confusion and amusement.

"No," Izzie said softly, wiping the salty tears from her face with the back of her hand.

He looked up at her, his icy eyes boring straight into her green ones. "No?" he asked, as if repeating her words would somehow help him comprehend the unfamiliar situation he now found himself him.

Izzie merely shook her head in reply.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because," was her simple reply as she averted her eyes from his.

"Because?" Mark questioned.

"Why do you keep repeating everything I'm saying?" she asked, looking back at him, her tears ceased.

"I'm sorry, but I want to make sure I'm hearing you correctly. You're really telling me I can't fall in love with you?" he asked with an small, ironic laugh.

She sighed, a sign she was beginning to get slightly frustrated. "No, Mark. You can not fall in love with me." she said slowly, emphasizing each word, as if she was speaking to a child.

Mark pursed his lips in thought, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he blinked a few times and shook his head incredulously. "And that's all you're going to say?"

"Yes," she said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Right," he said, stroking his bearded chin a few times deliberately before getting up from the chair and moving toward the middle of the room. "So I bear my freaking heart and soul, and all you're going to say is that I can't fall in love with you. Yeah, that's real fair," he said, his expression sarcastic, yet deadpanned.

"No. You do not get to be angry with me. Not for this," Izzie said, her voice sharp and her eyes shooting daggers.

"Okay, first I can't fall in love with you and now I can't be angry?" he asked, his back to her. "Where the hell do you get off telling me what I can and can not feel?" he snapped, the venom in his voice exceeding that which was in Izzie's.

"Mark-" she protested, her tone softening.

He spun around so he was at the foot of the hospital bed, facing her. He slammed his hands down on the footboard, rattling the whole bed. "Can you even begin to realize how hard it was for me just to say that to you?" he asked, a pained expression upon his normally stoic face as he held the board so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Knowing that he wasn't finished, Izzie chose not to speak, but instead hung her head, listening to him as he continued. "I don't know if you've noticed before, but I'm not really big on the whole 'showing emotions' thing," he said sardonically, even going as far as to use actual air quotes. "In fact, I never do it. At all."

Mark took a step back, releasing the bed from his death grip. Wait, I take it back," he said, looking off to the side, almost remembering. "I did it once, with Addison, and when that ended up biting me in the ass, I told myself, 'never again.' But then, I thought, 'take a chance.' And now…" he said, looking back at Izzie. "…well, now I'm oh-for-two. Fantastic," he snapped harshly.

He shot Izzie one last glare before shaking his head in disbelief and turning around. He strode over to the bathroom and entered it, slamming the door behind him so hard that Izzie swore she felt the bed rattle again.

Izzie let her head fall back against the pillows, feeling guilty for upsetting Mark. "Mark?" she called out cautiously.

When she received no reply, she tried once again. "Mark, I'm sorry!" she called, trying her damnedest not to let her desperation come through in her voice. "Don't be like this," she pleaded.

Still, however, no sort of reply came from behind the bathroom door. "Please come out," she tried again, now not caring how pathetic she sounded. "Please?!"

She could only call out to him for she was still hooked up to the IV, essentially chaining her to the bed. But when Mark still didn't recognize her attempts to talk to him, she looked down at her tube. "Oh, screw this," she muttered, frustrated, and took it out.

She went to the bathroom door and pounded on it with everything she had. "Mark? Mark, come on!" she begged.

At last he opened the door. "What are you doing out of bed? You need that IV," he said with an almost comical casualness as he brushed past her, reentering the room and going back to the armchair.

Sighing, Izzie turned around and followed after him. "If I put in back in would you at least talk to me?" she asked feebly, climbing back into bed.

"I really don't see what there is to talk about," Mark said, grabbing the remote off the beside table and switching on the TV, refusing to look at the blonde. "I let you know how I feel, you don't feel the same. End of story."

She scooted over to the edge of the bed to snatch the remote out of his hand. She tossed it away, and grabbed his hand with both of hers. "I never said I didn't feel the same," she told him carefully, yet pointedly.

When he heard that, Mark looked at her with such intensity, that his already icy blue eyes seemed ever sharper than usual. "What?"

This time, it was Izzie's turn to look away. "I never said I didn't feel the same," she repeated, less confident this time.

"Oh really?" he asked sarcastically, wrenching his hand away from hers and jumping up from the chair, causing her to recoil back. "Because, you know, when someone says I can't fall in love with them I automatically assume that feelings aren't exactly mutual. Silly me."

"How am I supposed to talk to you when you're like this?"

"Like what, exactly?" Mark asked, throwing his arms up in frustration. "Hurt? Angry? Annoyed? Bitter? You better let me know when I've hit the right word, Stevens, because, right now, it's pretty much all of the above. That, plus the fact that I'm basically a freaking walking thesaurus could equal this going on all day. So, please, let me know."

"Do you have to be so sarcastic?" she asked quietly, as she felt tears reforming in her weary eyes.

"You know, some people say sarcasm is a defense mechanism. I don't really buy into that. Unless, you could think of a reason why I would be so defensive, because I've got nothing," he said, his voice so sharp that Izzie could literally feel it as it pierced her heart.

Not able to stand it any longer, she got up from the bed and stood right in front of him. He turned his head, trying to ignore her. "Hey! Look! Look at me!" she cried out, grabbing his face with her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"You are so amazing," she told him, staring right into his eyes. "There's so much more to you than I ever would have thought."

Mark's lips twisted into a contemptuous sneer. "This sounds like the beginning of the speech I give women when I'm trying to let them down easy."

"Shut up," Izzie said, releasing him and stepping back. "Are you going to get off your soapbox now, because I wanna talk," she said forcefully, telling him she was dead serious.

"You want to talk?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his tone still dripping in sarcasm. "Are you sure about that? Because about two seconds ago you seemed very intent on dropping the subject. So…consider it dropped."

"God! You are such an ass!" she exclaimed, pounding him in the chest.

"Well, you're not wondering why are you? Because, if you ask me, it's pretty clear," he replied, making a move to back away from her.

"Stop it!" she yelled with such force that it stopped him in his tracks.

"Stop what, exactly?" he sneered.

"This whole 'poor, wounded me' act. I've had enough!" she said, her voice still raised.

Mark opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately silenced by her. "No! It is my time to speak. If you would have gotten off your high-frickin-horse for two seconds I could have finished my thought."

He closed his mouth, and crossed his arms, looking at her mockingly, and allowing her to continue. "You say that you care for me more than you ever thought you would? More than you ever wanted to? Well, you're not alone, buddy. Each passing moment I'm stuck in here with you is making me fall deeper. It's new, it's scary, and frankly, kind of exciting. I haven't felt this way in a long time. But we have to face the facts here. This, our situation. It isn't real. We've been each other's only company for about a week now, trapped in our own little bubble. It distorts things. You and me, we would never work out there. It could never happen. So, no. You can't. You can't fall in love with me, Mark, because, the truth is…you don't deserve me."

His eyebrow shot up. "I don't deserve you? Look here, Stevens-" he began, his tone switching from sarcastic to angry.

Izzie held up a slender finger, silencing him once again. "I'm not finished. You don't deserve me because…" she paused, taking a deep breath and looking away from him, her expression softened. "…you deserve better. I'm not good enough for you," she said ruefully.

Mark stared at her for a minute. He had to admit, that was not what he had been expecting. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" he asked sincerely, placing his strong hands on her shoulders, and moving his head so that he could connect his eyes with hers.

"I'm serious. Everyone says Meredith is the dark and twisty one, but it's me. I'm…I'm damaged goods. You don't want me."

"I'm pretty damaged myself, Stevens. Maybe we could be damaged together."

"And now you're mocking me."

"Yes," he replied with a small smile before his expression turned serious once again. "But I don't really understand what the problem is. So you're a little flawed, so what? Who isn't?" he asked, moving his hands from her shoulders and taking her hand in his, leading her to sit on the edge of the hospital bed with him. "Isn't that what the whole love thing's about anyway? Finding someone, knowing their flaws, and in the end, not really caring because it doesn't matter?"

"The problem is, Mark, is that I'm more than a little flawed. Hopelessly flawed, even. You don't want any part of that."

"Okay, you really have to stop ordering me around," he said, trying to lighten to situation. Don't I get a say in any of this?" he asked, brushing a stray piece of blonde hair back behind her ear.

Izzie took her hand and held it against his, pinning it to the side of her face. "I'm trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"From me."

Mark slipped his hand away. "Okay, now you're just being dramatic."

"I'm not kidding and I'm not being overdramatic," she said seriously. "Right now, my heart is in a million little pieces," she said, looking at the ground.

He gently lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look back at him. "Well, who says I can't be the one to put it back together?"

"Because that's not who you are!" she exclaimed, shifting her body so that she was slightly facing away from him. "It's going to take more than a hot playboy to fix me."

"Did I not just profess my feelings for you?"

"You said 'care about'. There's a big difference between 'care about' and 'love'."

Mark ran his hand through his hair, contemplating Izzie's words. "Six days is a little early for 'love', don't you think? I thought I was making a pretty big step saying what I said."

"You did," she insisted, turning back so she could face him again. "And I can't tell you how much it meant to me, but it's not enough," she said, taking his hand.

"Six days," he reiterated.

"Yeah, I get that. But six days, six weeks, six months, six years, it doesn't matter, Mark. You'll never fall in love with me. That's just not what you do. And that's fine. Commitment's not your thing, I get that. But it's what I need. The only person who's ever been committed to me left. He died, Mark. And it shattered me. And I don't know if I'll ever be the same. So I can do the whole 'sex with no strings attached' thing and I'm even open to finding love again. Someday. But I know I won't be able to handle a weird, in-between limbo. Because if you're not willing to be all there, I wouldn't be able to handle it. My heart wouldn't be able to handle that."

"Stevens-" Mark tried interrupting.

"Don't worry," she continued, not allowing him to speak. "I'm not expecting anything from you. I'm just saying. It's what I need. I'm high-maintenance in the worst sense of the world. You don't need any of my drama. You don't deserve any of it. And trust me, you don't want it."

"Stevens-" he tried once again.

"You want someone who is care-free, and not damaged, and whole, and-"

He finally successfully cut her off by capturing her lips with his. "But what if what I want…is you?" he asked softly.

Looking into his eyes, Izzie could see that he was actually sincere. However, there was a big difference between words and actions. "A million pieces," she reminded him.

Mark's face broke out into a grin, knowing that she would be willing to give them a shot. "So we'll start slow," he said, pulling her close to him. "One. Piece. At. A. Time." he whispered , placing a soft kiss on her lips between each word.