Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.

A huge thank you everyone who have reviewed and read this fic so far!

Enjoy!

Meanwhile, Izzie was assisting Derek on surgery on a kid who'd fallen off his bike and gotten hit by a car, severe brain injury.

Derek was trying to salvage what he could of the poor kid's brain, when he commented, "Even if this kid does pull through, he's going to need to relearn everything, probably be in rehab for months, at least." He paused before asking Izzie, "Speaking of, how's Dr Karev doing? He was moved to Brookfield yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, he's doing alright. Thanks again for getting Dr Gordon to take his case, everyone I've spoke to says that he's the best."

"No problem, Dr Stevens. I just want to see Alex back here where he belongs."

"You and me both."

Alex stayed in his room, in his wheelchair, no longer crying, but still too exhausted to move, until one of the ward nurses came in to the room. "Alex, it's time for dinner, do you want to come down to the dining room?"

He didn't want to, but the therapy had taken it out of him, and he knew that he had to eat. "…Sure."

"Okay," the nurse said as she moved to the back of the wheelchair, and began to push it out of the room. "Ben said you had a pretty hard time with therapy. I know you're probably already sick of hearing this, but it does get easier."

The dining room was much the same as the hallways and rooms, a large airy space, there were tables lined up, six places at each table, each had some seats and some spaces to accommodate wheelchairs, and there was a lot of space between each table, allowing for easy access.

The nurse took Alex to get a meal tray from the server before taking him over to one of the nearby tables, there were already three people at the table, an older lady and man, and a young looking guy in a wheelchair.

"Thanks," Alex said to the nurse, as she put his tray down in front of him, before leaving. As the nurse walked away, Alex extended his working arm to the young guy, and introduced himself, "Hi, I'm Alex."

"Todd," The guy offered, shaking Alex's hand, he then pointed the older man and woman, "And this is Louise and Samuel. How'd you end up here?"

"Car crash. You?"

"Same, been here seven weeks, still paralyzed."

"Sorry man."

"You weren't driving the car," Todd replied with a shrug, he quickly shifted the conversation, "What do you think of the place? It's not the Hilton, but I reckon it is okay."

"Yeah, it's pretty flash though, doesn't feel like I fit."

"Does seem a bit over the top in here, but when you've been here awhile, you appreciate the creature comforts." Todd then asked, "What did you do before the crash?"

Alex paused, he hadn't thought about it like that before, what had he done before the accident, not what does he do. Alex gritted his teeth as he said, "I'm a surgical resident over at Seattle Grace."

Todd raised his eyebrows in surprise, "A doctor, impressive. And ever an optimist, that'll help here."

"What do you mean?"

"What damage did you get? Paraplegia? Brain injury? Just fractures?"

Alex was surprised by his forwardness, but answered anyway, "Incomplete spinal injury, head and chest injuries, near amputation of my left arm, busted up both legs. They reckon that I should get back most functions, just will take a hell of a long time."

"I used to think that too. It doesn't work out like that."

A heavy silence grew over the table, it was a fact of life in the centre that the staff would do anything to keep you positive, even if you had no hope of recovering.

That night Izzie, Meredith, Christina, and even Bailey stopped by to check on him, it was nice to get a chance to hear what was happening at the hospital, hear about the surgeries they'd been on that day. Even if it hurt to know what he was missing out on, at least he could keep up to date about procedures and techniques.

It became a nightly, or sometimes second nightly routine, someone would come in to see Alex, bring charts, films, whatever else they could, and as well as catching up, they'd discuss the case, the surgery, outcomes. It made being stuck in the centre easier to know that while the rest of the world was still going, he was still keeping up with it.

Therapy was much the same for the next month, but then, once his legs were adequately healed to have the casts removed, Ben immediately intensified Alex's physical therapy regimen.

They still did exercises to help Alex regain strength in his injured arm, but they added in range of motion exercises for his legs, and eight days after Alex had had the casts removed, Ben met Alex in the physical therapy room, at least now Alex was able to get himself around the centre easily in a wheelchair.

Ben had set up everything at their usual space, but in addition there was an odd contraption, which Alex didn't recognize.

As he pulled up in front of his physical therapist, Alex suspiciously asked, "What's that and what have you got planned?"

"Nice to see ya' too, Alex," Ben joked, before he more seriously told Alex, "It's how we're gonna to get you back on ya' feet. It's called a reciprocating gait orthosis, long and complicated name, we usually just say RGO, but it works well for some people." Ben went and retrieved the device, and once he returned he explained, "This is a trainer, if you can manage it, then we'll fit you for a custom version."

"Okay," Alex said, "So what do we do now?"

"We give it a go if you'd like."

The prospect of finally being back on his feet after two months was awesome, and so Alex quickly replied, "Sure, let's do this."

It was the most eager Ben had seen Alex in physical therapy in weeks.

TBC....

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