a/n: I'm not totally satisfied with this long chapter. I wrote it at different times during the day so it might sound rushed and not flow. I have no clue where I'm going with this.

We live in a day and age that has a general fear for the unknown. What we do not understand, we usually seek to destroy. And if not eliminate, we aim to analyze until our brains shift into overload and our senses resemble minced meat. But what we are unaware of is that more often than not analyzing directs us to one-sided conclusions, and there we go missing the truth drifting past us, just wandering right on through while our backs are turned in vain. We are of complicated nature. We own too many emotions our unstable hearts cannot control. So what do you do? What do you do when your heart is overflowing with uncertainties, guilt, lust, and selfishness? What to do when your mind is your own worst enemy; a single thought in your brain can direct you on a one-way ticket train to impulsive actions…impulsive actions…to more regrets to cram into your skull. So what do we do?

We don't think…well don't dwell our mind on our sorrow. Don't fret. Don't guilt. Don't lust. Don't be an arrogant prick. Sounds so simple, huh? Unfortunately there is never an answer; you just do what you can. Sometimes performing what is capable is suppressing it all and thriving on. Or maybe sometimes it's merely grasping the warm hand of a beautiful woman whose woes are as vast as the elephant standing in a silent room filled with awkward, fleeting conversation. Yet whose smile is enough to rob the voice from your throat and vacate your lungs of any previous air as if you were sucker-punched…and that same beam that makes you drop all your prior engagements only to do something amusing or astounding or even embarrassing so as to keep that girlish grin from faltering, just so you could steal another glance.

It was quite excruciating to even just observe what Izzie had endured this night. The pain and heartbreak anyone but her deserved. Her tears clawed at my heartstrings in a merciless yank I disliked admitting even to myself. When I saw her lying there, arms encircling her loss, my only desire, if possible, was to vacate the throbbing ache that resided inside her, shining in results of her tearstained face. Before I came to this hospital, I was never one to be somebody's rock. It was never my position to…save someone emotionally. In truth, there's awkwardness just in my own behavior at trying to save myself. But somehow in Izzie's case, it was different. For her, I would muster all the strength I do not own just to help her.

I was jerked from my reverie as the fading of the headlights focused my vision. I didn't even feel my own hand rotate the keys and cut the ignition. My gaze was lured by a faint moan and a tug of my hand. While fingers remained intertwined, Izzie childishly stirred and soon stretched her muscles with a slight strain and whined softly out of weariness.

"Izzie," I murmured out in a low drawl, hesitant to fully wake her. She responded by rubbing haphazardly at her makeup-smeared and reddening eyelids before untangling our fingers, gliding hers tenderly out of mine and reaching for the door handle.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I felt a jolting pang as her smooth fingers slipped their way out of mine; a fragment of my heart suddenly morphed into a hollow existence. Kneading together my eyebrows in disbelief at my own thoughts, I quickly came to my senses and dashed out of my seat, around the headlights, and captured her hand once more before her dangling feet could fall upon the concrete driveway. Slightly startled but displaying a small smile on her lips, swollen from rushes of chilly night air and presumed, stoic nibbling, she gratefully clutches my hand. I felt something prod at my insides and hitch my breathing at the regained contact with her skin, a bizarre reaction I never feel when I'm normally in Izzie's presence.

Shaking my head for the second time within a minute, I gently hauled Izzie by her hand, up the driveway. My hearing drifted to the soft treading of her heels behind me. It felt almost odd having her stumbling along in my wake after the time spent previously chasing her across the hospital parking lot. I couldn't possibly fathom what she was feeling or thinking at this very moment, so I simply pulled her along as I unlocked the front door with resounding click, hearing the lock being turned out of the slot, grazing along the wooden frame in the door. I feebly dropped her hand; I had no desire to show any signs of the truth: that I probably needed the support of her lingering touch more than she needed or even desired mine.

My original plan was to leave her to settle in her room, maybe even start the shower for her, and then tiptoe across the wooden floors to check on her in a few minutes, embrace her until she fell asleep if deemed necessary. But just as all tactic plans go, they alter.

Just as I was slipping a shirt absently over my head, ruffling my brown, unkempt locks into a curly mess, Izzie briskly barges into my room, clutching a cashmere blanket and sporting worn, low-rise jeans that clung to her curves, her strands of pale brown and lingering blonde carelessly dangling down her shoulders, and apparently void of any top other than her underwear.

The sight was enough to halt any previous thought processes.

Apparently her lack of clothing was an everlasting, nonchalant formality to her and she shuffled her way to my dresser, avoiding piles of scattered clothing and various objects. As she went on her way tossing clothes through my drawer seemingly searching for something, I wondered why her customary, skimpily-clad demeanor suddenly began to bother me once more.

With a triumphant, toothy grin she held up a baggy, olive-green shirt and promptly slipped it over her head, smoothing out the minor wrinkles with a swift rubbing motion of her palms flatly over her stomach.

"Wha…why would you…" was all I could stutter out. Smile never relenting, she responded with an effortless "It smells like you…it's comforting."

"Oh…" was all I was able to croak out. Then my gaze fell upon the blanket she was reaching for, having promptly dropped it in a heap on the floor. Before a question could even form out of my suddenly dry lips, I felt my hand being tugged forward, down the creaking stairs, and out the front door. Spreading out the blanket upon the moonlit blades of grass, I simply watched as she finished smoothing it out, sprawled out her body in an exasperated sigh and motioned for me to do the same. As her eyes fluttered close, I flopped clumsily down next to her slim form. My gaze was directed toward the midnight sky, the vast dark mass littered with numerous, glowing stars that gave hope to the hopeless. Calmed by the moonlight I sighed as well. About the same time my own eyelids flickered shut, I heard a peculiar sound. It was not Izzie sobbing. It wasn't her ranting…It took me just a moment more to realize…

Izzie was laughing. It wasn't her usual refreshing, pleasant giggle. Between the gasps of breathe, it was laced with bitterness, tinged with spite. Glancing at her features…the chocolate, natural enticing color of her eyes had changed to dark; there was something cynical in her eyes. This is not my Izzie.

"He's dead you know," her voice a fusion of vinegary amusement. "My fiancé, who proposed just one hour before…I risked my job for him…" Her voice faltered. When she continued to speak, the iciness and hilarity had melted into a hushed, gloomy tone. "Everything I worked for…everything I wished for my entire life slipped away so quickly. Everything," She hissed out through gritted teeth. "I peered into the mirror when we got home…I haven't a clue who was staring back at me, George, and I'm so scared…I don't know what to feel anymore."

Fully sitting up, matching her posture, I felt my hand slithering its way to her knee, causing her gaze to shift and miserable, enchanting brown bore into my own. My hand, moving with its own intellect, caressed her cheek with what I knew to be my thumb, ready to wipe at any tears she was so stoically determined to keep from falling. And then something happened that because of the way the moonlight embraced her features, and because of how vulnerable she was, I knew I should've been expecting it but I didn't. I didn't.

She pushed me away. It was one swift swat of her hands; it was one indentation in my heart.

"Iz--," The glance she shot me was enough to hush me for eternity. It was disdain…and it seemed to be aimed directly at me; for reasons I simply could not comprehend. So I simply stared as she drew in her knees, her arms firmly encircling them as a protective shell. She rested her chin above her left knee, and braved to peer at me from the corner of her eyes. My best friend was shutting me out and I didn't know what to do.

"I need a sign," her raspy drawl cutting through the silence. "I need to know I can wash this all away and someday soon it will be okay to live again." Her voice wasn't aimed at me, but to the vast darkness hovering above us.

And then I felt it. At first I though it was the sprinklers; cold droplets were spewing at me from an unknown location. A few more seconds revealed that it was rainfall. It was calming, surprising rainfall. Gaping at the night sky I stood, raindrops trickling lazily into my eyelids. Turning to Izzie, I didn't expect her reaction. It was one of faint hope. I sighed in relief as I spied a grin growing on her swollen lips. Baring her pearly whites, she squealed and clasped onto my hand. She began to dance, curls bouncing and twirling with her girlish movements. I saw nothing but beauty.

As the flow of rainwater gradually slowed, I decided we should probably amble our way back into heat. The last thing we need was this angel sniffling. The flow of warmth rushed into my body as we made our way back to my bedroom. With a creak, we situated ourselves on the edges of my unkempt bed, both staring at the wooden flooring as if it were alive and flaming.

"We need to get you out of these clothes before you catch a cold," I dared to pierce the silence. "I could go and get you another one of my shirts if you want," I added with a smile. She simply declined with a quick shake of her head. "I'm too numb to move," she giggled and fixed her eyes on me.

I felt the heat rising to my neck in a feverish, inept fury. "You mean you want me to…" I took in her nod and gulped down inwardly. Hands shaking as I reached for her, I began pealing the clinging material over her head, and clumsily dropped it in a soggy heap as if it had sharpened fangs. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and lust as I felt her hand snake to my cheek and pull me closer. I could feel her warmth breath upon me as I chose to shift my gaze to anything but her. Anything, but those eyes. Just an inch apart I felt her eyes flutter shut. As much as my heart stirred and part of me craved the sensation she was pulsing through me, I felt myself adding back the inches between us. She was in love with Denny. I won't take advantage of her vulnerability…I'll hold her…but I won't fill a cavity. She is not acting her normal self…

Seemingly so, she did not understand this. The look in her eyes reflected her…rejection. Mouth gaping with a single strangled gasp, she fled the room.

We as humans are of complicated nature…What do you suggest we do?

a/n: Feedback is always appreciated.