A/N: Yay for faster updates (: I got a whole bunch of reviews from you guys last time, and I really am so amazed. You guys are incredible! Some of you wanted to see Meredith's reaction, so I put that in here, along with a little bit of MD cuteness. You'll probably see more of Meredith in the next chapter. Some of you (or, maybe it's actually just one of you :P) wanted to see some Izzie/George as well, so I did some of that too. Please believe me when I say that they will be fixed; I fixed Alex/Izzie, so I can definitely fix George/Izzie. Okay, no more spoiling, I swear! Reviews are what keep me going, you know that ;) Let me know what you want to more of/less of/what you liked/what you hated, etc etc.

The monitor held its steady beep, as Meredith silently dozed off for a few seconds. She used every ounce of energy she had left to wake herself up again. The coffee in her cup was getting cold, and she began to realize how much she hated night shifts. She regretted volunteering to monitor her patient overnight, when she could have been at home, in her warm bed.

The sunrise made its faint presence in narrow strips along the wall through the hospital window. Meredith handed the case off to the first nurse she could find, and began her search for caffeine. The small coffee cart on the fourth floor was most likely closed, so she walked unenergetically towards the elevator. She pressed the button and yawned, as the elevator opened, and in it stood a familiar face.

"Good morning" Derek said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

It seemed as if her morning did suddenly become a little better. "What are you doing here?" she asked, a smile still lingering on her lips.

"I was going to check up on you in Lisa Klein's room, and bring you this." He handed her one of the two cups of coffee in his hands.

"You really are perfect" she said, with a small laugh. "It's a little bit freaky."

"But you love it." He took a look at the time on his wrist watch. "I have to go prep a patient for a craniotomy. I'll see you later today."

She nodded, and gave him a quick kiss goodbye before he walked in the opposite direction. She headed towards the nurses' station, and contemplated the stack of charts sitting on the desk. In an hour, she knew they'd all be gone, and she tried to eyeball the one that looked the most interesting from the outside. When she decided that she must be going crazy, she chose a chart at random, and began to review it. Before finishing the first line, she was interrupted.

"Wanna trade?" She watched Alex, who was holding his own patient chart, walk towards the station. "Broken tib-fib, showing signs of compartments' syndrome."

"That sure sounds a lot better than…" Her eyes darted down towards the bottom of the page, where she read the diagnosis out loud: "an inflamed and infected gallbladder, scheduled to be removed this afternoon."

Alex surrendered. "You win." Even when she didn't mean to, Meredith was stuck with cases that nobody wanted. "I need to go do rounds" he said.

"You're doing rounds now? It's a little early."

"I'm only going to be here for a few hours. I'm going with Izzie to her-" she saw him hesitate briefly, before finishing his sentence. "I'm meeting up with Izzie."

She took a moment to wonder why Alex was being so secretive. Something was going on with Izzie; Meredith knew it. "Alex? Since you used to sleep with my sister, and you've been living at my house for almost two years…I think we're friends" she said, and wondered if Alex would tell her. "So what's going on with Izzie?"

It looked like her words were starting to break him down. "Um…I don't really know how to say this"

For some reason, Meredith immediately went for the worst. Was Izzie sick? She didn't look sick. She was working long shifts; someone who was sick couldn't work long shifts. Was it her mom, or someone in her family? She tried to stop these thoughts long enough so that she could get the answer out of him. "She's strong, Alex. She's a big girl. You know, whatever it is, it's going to be okay, because she's going to make it be okay" she told him. "Just, is it bad? Because you kind of have me freaking out a little bit over here."

There was a brief moment of stillness between them before he finally replied. "Mer, Izzie's pregnant."

For a few seconds, Meredith felt nothing but relief; Izzie having a baby was a lot better than Izzie being sick or Izzie dying. But then it started to sink in…she was having a baby. She was going to be somebody's mom. If this didn't completely change her life, it would change a lot of the lives of the people around her as well. Who was the father? Was she going to keep the baby? Would she be able to keep her job, or would she quit once the tolls of motherhood got too hard? A million questions flooded her mind, but she kept very still.

"Oh…wow."

Alex slightly nodded. "Yeah."

"That explains a lot" was all Meredith could get out.

She tossed another shirt onto her bed in frustration. It had been the fifth top she'd tried on that morning, and her bed was almost covered in all the different shirts she'd owned. She stood in a white cami in front of her closet, and after a few minutes of contemplation, pulled a light purple v-neck off its hanger. A knock at the door broke her thoughts. "Come in" she replied, as she pulled the blouse over her head.

Alex stood in the doorway, and looked at the mess of clothes on her bed. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to find something to wear" she answered, as if what she was doing was relatively normal behavior. She stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of her room, turning several times, left and right, to decide.

"Why does it matter? You're going to be wearing scrubs."

She sighed. "You're a guy. You can throw on whatever you wore the night before and it would be okay." She stood with her side turned towards the mirror. "Besides, I don't put on my scrubs until I get to the hospital."

"Well, you never know who you can run into in the twenty minute drive all the way there…" his tone was laden with sarcasm. He shook his head a little bit and smiled at her ridiculous logic. "You're going to be late" he told her, matter-of-factly.

"No, I think I'm almost ready." She looked at herself, standing sideways next to the mirror, and made a realization. "That's what it is. They're definitely bigger."

"What?"

"My boobs!" She grabbed both of them with her two hands. "They're bigger. Aren't they bigger?"

He raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was actually expecting him to answer. If she had planned on the two of them staying just friends, well, this sure wasn't helping. "I-I don't know…" he answered uncomfortably.

"They are bigger" she repeated to herself. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"Did you go to medical school?" he teased.

She took a shirt off of her bed and threw it in his direction. He moved before it hit him and started laughing. "Get out" she said, unable to hold back a laugh herself. He walked across the hallway to his room, and she spent a few more minutes in front of the mirror before concluding that she was okay with what she was wearing.

"If you finally decide on what to wear in the next 10 minutes…" Alex called from the other room. "I'll give you a ride to work."

George pulled on the door quietly, at first, but when he realized that it wouldn't close, he had to pull harder. It was one of the many, many perks of living in the "crapartment", as he'd liked to call it. Living on an intern's salary wasn't easy, and he was counting the days until he could re-take his intern exam and become a resident for more reasons than one.

His days primarily consisted of work, because of the fact that, well, he had nobody to really talk to. He had a few friends at the hospital who were interns also, but they were mostly just acquaintances. When he failed his intern exam, he wasn't able to do everything his old friends were able to. He wasn't allowed to move up to the fancy new residents' locker room; he kept his old locker in the same location it had been for the past four years. Mostly, he wasn't given the opportunities that they were, and it was hard to watch his former peers excel while he was left behind.

Regardless of everyone else moving up, George had noticed that a distance had been created between him and everyone else that wasn't there before. He wondered if it was really because he was still an intern, but he doubted it. Meredith, Cristina, Alex, Izzie and George had begun their residency together, although it seemed that everything was slowly changing. Not like they were breaking apart, just that he was breaking off. He missed the way things were, and even though Lexie was one of his good friends, he missed the comfort that he felt when he was with the four of them.

He walked into the sordid interns' locker room, and changed quickly. He was supposed to be scrubbing in on a surgery with Cristina, and decided that he would get the patient file and wait until she got in. He was even being nice to Cristina, which was strange and oddly reassuring at the same time. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he even missed Cristina harassing him on a daily basis.

He sat down on a bench in the resident locker room, and watched as more and more people began to come in for work. Eventually, someone he knew walked in. Meredith waved and talked to him for a few minutes before running off to start rounds. Alex was next, with Izzie right behind him. He noticed them walk in together, laughing, and he saw something in her face that he'd felt he hadn't seen in a long time – not anytime that they were together, at least. George knew that he didn't still think of Izzie that way, and although they'd ended on rocky terms, he'd missed her the most. Mainly, he was happy that she looked so happy.

There were little things about her that had already begun to change. He did note that she walked with a different stride now; there was something about her body language he couldn't pin-point. She looked different, and yet, she looked the same. Maybe a little more tired, but that doesn't mean much when you work in a hospital. There must have been something going on with her, and it slightly upset him that they were so disconnected. They used to be best friends, and he used to know everything about her. Now, they barely talked. She never came out to Joe's anymore, and he didn't see her much at work.

All of a sudden, it started making sense. She looked different. She acted different. She walked differently – and it wasn't so much a walk, as it was a wobble. Her and Alex walking in together. Her stomach, that seemed to be slightly protruded, even though she tried to hide it with a loose top. And the fact she was never at Joe's anymore, which had previously been her second home. George was a doctor, and it wouldn't even take a doctor to put the facts together.

"Izzie?" he spoke, with a hint of astonishment in his voice.

She turned, upon hearing her name. She greeted him with a grin. "Hi George. What are you doing here?"

He stood up. "Do you think…can we talk outside for a minute?"

"Sure, I guess" she replied.

He walked out first, with her following, and stopped a few feet away from the locker room.

"What's going on?" she asked, as she pulled her shoulder-length blonde hair into a ponytail.

He didn't know where to begin; how would you ask something like this without being offensive? He knew that Izzie wouldn't take offense even if he was wrong, she would probably laugh and hit him for insinuating something so ridiculous. But part of him was afraid that maybe she had changed so much that he really couldn't make that assumption anymore.

"Izzie, I know…" he began. "I know we haven't been as close as we used to be lately. But I'm still George, you know? Even if we don't talk for 10 years, I'll always be George. I guess what I'm trying to say is…is everything okay?"

He could tell that some walls around her secret were starting to slowly crumble. She didn't speak for a few seconds, and looked at him straight in the eyes. "You know, don't you?" she spoke quietly.

"I don't know." He fidgeted with the patient file he had been holding onto since before. "I can only guess. And I won't know for sure, unless you tell me." When he saw that she was hesitant to respond, he spoke again. "How long?"

"Three months."

He sighed. "Three months. You've known about this for three entire months, and I hadn't even noticed" he said. "Who's the father?"

She faltered before speaking once more. "Alex" she said, tersely.

"Alex?" he spoke with surprise. "Since when are you two friends again?"

"Since Ava was committed, or maybe before…it's a long story."

"Right" he said. "Well I wouldn't know anything about that, since you couldn't be bothered to tell me any of this, since it happened five months ago."

She shook her head slowly. "George, I know you feel left out, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He didn't bother saying anything else. "Please."

"Three months" he repeated to himself, and shook his head. "Really, just…good luck, Izzie."

At the end of the hall, Cristina poked her head out of the locker room. "Bambi, let's go. This isn't the time for a tea party."

George followed her, without looking back once at Izzie.

Alex stood in Mr. Michaels' room, as Dr. Hahn did a routine pre-operation check-up. It wasn't the first time he'd done a mitral valve repair, or scrubbed in with Dr. Hahn, but it seemed to get more and more exciting each time. That adrenaline-pumping feeling right before you open the patient, the feeling of saving someone's life, was what kept Alex doing it every day. In the operating room, the world around you fades and all you have is your patient and your scalpel. Some doctors like to talk; discuss politics, or the weather, but Dr. Hahn usually remained focused on her work and talked only when necessary. Alex liked that.

"You're good to go, Dave" Dr. Hahn concluded, after doing one last test. "I'll see you in the OR."

She left, and Alex gave Dave some time to say goodbye to his wife and kids. His two daughters hugged him both at once, and Alex noticed that the younger girl began to get teary-eyed. His wife kissed him goodbye quickly, and turned back to their daughter. He began to roll Dave out, and they all followed him until they couldn't anymore. He left the family in the waiting room, with an assurance that he would be fine.

Three hours into the surgery, the light shined brightly upon the open chest cavity, as Dr. Hahn traded several instruments between her and the nurse. Alex remained kept his focal point on her work, until he was interrupted.

"Karev."

He looked up at the surgeon standing in front of him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, what's the advantage in repairing the valve, as opposed to replacing it?"

He remembered reading about this in a medical textbook the day before. "With valve replacements, there is a higher risk mortality, and higher risk of stroke or infection. There's also a chance it could be rejected by the patient's body."

"Very good" she nodded in satisfaction. "You might even be tied with Yang for cardio. Wanna try your stitching?"

He looked at her incredulously through his surgical mask and cap. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." She handed him the suture, as he began to weave through the patients' heart, creating small stitches like the ones she'd made before.

Suddenly, the machine above the patient started beeping rapidly, as the patient's heart rate began to increase. "He's 160/100, getting systolic" a small nurse said from the back.

"What did you do, Karev?" She moved quickly and efficiently, as she tried to stabilize the patient.

"I didn't do anything! I did exactly what you were doing." He moved right behind her, becoming a backbone to every move she made.

An hour later, the two surgeons walked out of the operating room solemnly. There wasn't much to be said; it was never easy to lose a patient, especially a patient they'd been working with for so long. How was he supposed to tell Dave's wife and kids that a routine procedure was actually the cause of their father's death?

Dr. Hahn accompanied Alex to the waiting room, where he found Mr. Michaels' wife curled up with their two children, who had fallen fast asleep. When she heard the sound of someone approaching, she opened her eyes. She recognized the two of them, and slowly stood up.

"Mrs. Michaels…" she began. "There were a few…complications, with your husband's surgery."

Her face dropped, and her entire expression grasped a look of horror. "What?"

"His heart just couldn't keep up with the operation. We did everything we could…" she replied, as Alex remained quiet.

"I thought…this was routine. You do this every day…" she moved back, to sit down on the nearest chair behind her. "And now…now, you're saying that he's dead?" Tears began to flow down her cheeks. "How am I supposed to tell my girls that their father is dead?"

Sensitivity training was made for moments like these. Doctors were taught to be sensitive and understanding but detached. But in Alex's entire drive home, he could not get the face of Dave's wife, and his two children, asleep, out of his mind. Part of him knew that Mr. Michaels' heart was sick and simply too weak. But another part wondered if it was actually something Alex did. He replayed the entire suture in his mind, over and over. He wondered where he had gone wrong, if he'd made an error. It was almost flawless, and he questioned if there was something he was missing.

She flipped through the T.V. channels, not bothering to stop to watch anything good. With a quart of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream sitting in her lap, she finally put the remote down at what seemed to be a replay of a daytime soap opera. She watched the over-dramatized show, while taking increasingly larger spoons of ice cream, until she realized that she'd gone through almost the whole quart. When she realized that the storyline was about a young woman whose fiancé had passed away due to heart failure, she turned off the T.V.

She heard a knock, and looked over to see Alex walk in. The expression on his face looked like his day had been equally as bad as hers, if not worse. She scooted over on the bed so that he could sit, and he pushed his shoes aside, before crawling up next to her. She handed him the ice cream, because she reasoned with herself that it looked like he needed it more than she did.

After a few moments of silence, Izzie spoke. "I told George."

"I killed my patient" he retorted, taking the last spoonful of ice cream.

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