A/N: Yay, chapter 4! I know it seems like we're going at a really slow pace, but please, trust me! :) This chapter isn't as depressing as the last one, but we all know that Alex wouldn't be Alex if he didn't get to throw his temper tantrums :P

PS - Don't forget! This takes place after the season 4 finale. George is not dead yet (I almost forgot that!). Izzie doesn't have any cancer. And Denny won't be coming by anytime soon!

But please, pleeeeasssseee, REVIEW! My e-mail is hooked up to my cell phone, and every time I get an e-mail, I get a phone notification. When I see your pretty little reviews, it makes me happy and then I want to write! So please please REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!

She heard someone knock at the door and come in. She assumed it would be Alex, planning on getting some action that night; not even thinking about what can happen in the process. "Alex, I'm really not in the mood right now" she answered almost automatically. She pulled herself to sit up so that she was facing him.

"What the hell is your problem? Why can't you learn to mind your own damn business for once?"

This wasn't the Alex that she was used to. She narrowed her eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"I cry for one night, two weeks ago, and you can't even shut up about it. And you go tell Cristina, like you guys have been best friends forever."

That must have been what made him so angry. Cristina must have said something to him about what Izzie had told her. But the reason she had told Cristina was that she figured that she would be the last person to tell Alex anything. Cristina was emotionally neutral and she never bothered to care about anyone's feelings besides her own, Izzie had always thought that. She wondered how much Cristina had told Alex. "Alex…" she sighed.

"No. I trusted you, or at least I thought I did. I thought you'd be cool about this. But I definitely was wrong."

She had dug herself into a hole too deep. He wouldn't want to listen to her, she didn't blame him. "Let me explain…"

"Just shut up and don't talk to me, Izzie. I'm done dealing with your crap." She watched him walk out of the room, and knew she had to do something to stop him.

She stood up and followed him. "Alex, please, just wait" she begged.

He stood in the doorway of his room. "I shared something with you that I didn't want anyone knowing, and you go and do the exact opposite. You go and tell something that wasn't yours to tell in the first place. I really thought you were different, I thought you were someone I could trust. I guess I just learned the hard way that I can't."

Each of his words hit her like bullets through her chest. She felt the stinging in the back of her throat, and felt tears forming. "You don't mean that" she spoke quietly; almost trying to convince herself that this wasn't the real him. He was angry; he didn't know what he was saying.

"I don't mean it? How do you know that? You don't know anything about me, or what I mean!"

She shut her eyes, which caused the tears that were forming to roll down her cheeks. "Alex…"

"And when I said don't talk to me, I meant it. Don't even bother anymore."He turned slightly towards his room.

She debated whether or not she should tell him. This couldn't be the way things ended, she wouldn't let it be. They had gone through so much worse, and she had to prove it to him that they could get through this. She wouldn't be able to do that if he walked away now. She needed to do something, anything, to make him stay. She opened her eyes, and faintly hesitated before she spoke. "I'm pregnant."

The silence that filled the space between them made it harder for her to concentrate. Her words had had a profound effect on her, and she tried to imagine what must have been going through his mind. Once she told him, it looked like any irritation or emotion he was feeling had disappeared. He looked at her through angry eyes, and she found herself guessing at what he would do next. It was an extremely cruel déjà vu, she was sure of it. She had never meant to tell him this way, but her desperation was overwhelming.

She watched his every move, trying to decipher any reaction she could get out of him. And to her disadvantage, he didn't give her any notions. His face kept the hard expression that he'd had when she told him; the image had glued itself to her memory. Then, in one clean motion, he turned towards his room, and slammed the door shut.

She sat down with Meredith and Cristina to eat lunch at their usual table. The thoughts in her mind seemed to be going over their speed limit, while Meredith and Cristina were having conversations that didn't seem to make any sense anyone with more than a few brain cells. She subconsciously listened to them talk about their own problems, and she had gotten used to not being able to relate. Cristina and Meredith had their own world, and Izzie never really fit in completely with the two of them.

George slammed his tray down on the cafeteria table, startling her. She looked over at him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I hate being an intern."

She listened while he muttered something about an attending not choosing him to scrub in a case, even though he's 'been in this program from almost four years" and he has "more hands-on experience than half of the residents in the Mercy West program".

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Alex standing by a vending machine. It had been the first time she'd seen him all day. He'd usually sit with them at lunch. And at that moment, in the pit of her stomach, she had the slightest glimpse of hope. Maybe he would apologize and say that he didn't mean it. She would forgive him, and maybe they could talk about what they were going to do.

When his eyes met hers, she was instantly reminded of what had happened the night before. He still, vaguely, had the same expression. She couldn't pinpoint what it was; somewhere in between anger, sadness, and frustration, all mixed together. She held his stare before he turned, and sat down at an empty table across the cafeteria.

She had zoned out long enough to forget that George was talking to her. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted to go to Joe's after work."

Drinks? She wasn't allowed to do that anymore. "Actually, I'm pretty busy tonight. Paperwork I need to catch up on, you know" she told him, almost too quickly, hoping that he wouldn't notice by the sound of her voice that she was lying. "Maybe next time."

When she walked through the door, a familiar scent surrounded her. It was sweet, somewhat like vanilla and honey-suckle flowers. Even though she had had a few drinks with everyone after work, she wasn't drunk, and she couldn't make up something like this. The house was slightly warmer than usual, and the kitchen lamp was on, even though it was almost 1:30 in the morning.

Izzie was baking again.

Meredith was never opposed to Izzie baking. She was usually grateful for it, and made sure that Izzie knew she appreciated it; who wouldn't love to wake up to freshly baked blueberry muffins? But the underlying feeling of anxiety was nagging at her, and she knew that Izzie only baked when she was upset. Her kitchen had almost exploded after Denny had died, and from then it on it seemed that whenever Izzie had a crisis, she'd be found in the kitchen, frosting a cake. It was how she dealt with things. Meredith placed her bag down on the couch, and went to see what was remaining of her kitchen.

"Hey Iz" she said with a small smile. She looked around; the counter was covered in various ingredients. There were flour marks on the counter, and egg shells covered the garbage can. Boxes of different types of cake mixes were rare; Izzie refused to bake anything that wasn't made by scratch.

"Hey. How was Joe's?"

"It was fun. We missed you, though" she told her, as Izzie was mixing something in a bowl with a spatula. Meredith sat down on a bar stool, and started to pick at the paper wrapping of a cupcake. Without changing the topic too much, she tried to remain focused on figuring out what was going on with her. "Did you have a nice night?"

"I guess so."

She tried to read her expression; wondering if she could get any clues into what was bothering her. After a few minutes of silence, she figured that maybe she shouldn't delve too deep into it. Anything she tried would be unsuccessful at that point; she'd have to wait until the morning. "I'm going to bed" she said, holding the unfoiled cupcake in her hand. "Goodnight."

Making sure to decelerate her actions, giving Izzie an opportunity to talk if she wanted to; Meredith was grateful when she spoke up. "Mer?"

"Yeah?" she replied, hoping her response wasn't too enthusiastic.

"Um…let me know how it tastes, okay?"

Meredith let out a small sigh, and began to head out of the kitchen. "Sure thing, Iz."

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