So, OMG, I have decided that I officially love you all! I can't thank you enough for taking the time to read my stories, and then to leave reviews with such kind words just blows my mind! Everytime I open my email it's like Christmas! lol To snag a little pharasing from Mariah Carey, "I thank ya, I love ya, and I appreciate ya!" I dedicate this chapter to my cousin who is going through all of the drama with her ex being, well, dead. Here is an instance where life has taken my plot and colored it like a four year old with a magic marker. Events have been changed, but the same idea is here. Plus, I don't think there has ever been anything really said about Hannah's father. I might as well write about him, right? Enjoy!

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Somewhere my phone rang.

Some where my phone rang in the middle of the night, and I couldn't care less.

I was snuggly warm with George, I finally had gotten comfortable which was becoming a rare occurance, and I didn't want what was on the line. Phone calls at night only spell trouble, and I had had enough. So I was prepared to let it ring on. Just this once, there are other doctors, other problem solvers, anyone else but me.

Ten seconds later, the house phone began to ring frantically.

I clamped my eyes tightly shut. Hear no evil, see no evil, right?

Wrong.

Meredith trudged in the room and threw the cordless at me.

"She says it's urgent."

"Who?"

"I don't know. It's three in the morning. Your call. Goodnight."

Meredith stalked away to recapture her sleep. I thought about just hanging up. I was so unbelievably tired.

"Hello?"

"Cricket?"

My heart stopped. I hadn't heard her voice, and that name in ages. It was like a blasting, cold wind in the middle of an Indian Summer. I was froze.

"Cricket? Are you there? Is that you?"

"Umm, yeah, Mom. It's me."

"I hate to call you so late, but there is something I have to tell you."

"What is it?"

"It's Billy."

"What about him?"

"His mother just called me. He's dead, Cricket. He's gone."

I choked and gasped. It was worse than being hit with a ton of bricks. Nothing would come out.

"She said that there was a wreck. He was drunk, it was dark, and there was a median he apparently never saw. The funeral will be in two days, if you want to come. I really think that you should."

"I...I...I don't know. I will have to think on it."

"I don't think you should have to."

"And I don't think you get to have an opinion, Mom. Goodnight."

I was so awful and cold that it almost didn't feel like me. But her orders and opinions started to stifle me as my emotions sped out of control. I just wanted to be back asleep. I wanted to hide in that warmth I had lost, but tears were spilling coldly down my cheeks.

George's eyes were still shut. His voice was thick with sleep.

"Izzie?"

I fought hard to control my sobs.

"Go back to sleep."

"Are you crying?"

"It's nothing George."

"Then why is the phone ringing at this obscene hour and making you cry?"

"He's dead George."

His eyes suddenly snapped open, and he turned to me.

"Who?"

"Billy."

"Billy?"

"Hannah's father. Her biological one at least."

"He's dead? How?"

"He was driving drunk, and wrecked into a median."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

By the grim set of his face, I could tell he was ready to say something I wouldn't like. I tried to steel myself, but I knew there would be no preparation.

"Why wouldn't you be? How many years has it been since you talked to him? I mean, since he left you pregnant?"

"You don't get to say that George!"

"I'm just asking a valid question. Why would you care after all of the heartache?"

"Because he was the boy next door! Because he was my first real boyfirend! Because, like it or not, he was Hannah's father!"

"He never cared about Hannah!"

"But he was her father! Nothing erases that! God, why am I even making excuses to you!"

"I don't know why you are making excuses. You need to get back in bed and forget this whole mess. I would think it would be like a salvation from your past. You never have to think about, or worry about, him ever again."

I started to get dressed angrily.

"So you wouldn't care if Callie died?"

"That's different."

"How? She's your ex! She's a bad part of your past!"

"She isn't a bad part of my past!"

"Oh that's right! All the bad came with that slut Izzie Stevens! Because you were having a grand old time!"

"I'm not saying that! It's just, she's not bad,because it wasn't her fault how things happened!"

"So, you get to grieve because we screwed up? But I don't get to?"

"What is there to grieve about him? You have never said his name! The few things you told me have been horrible! Why would you care?"

"Think about it George! When you break up, you never remember anything good! Everything is always bad! Sometimes it isn't always an accurate picture!"

"So he was some saint? Saint Leave-His-Kid?"

"I never said that. But break ups, and deaths, they color your perception no matter what. What about your dad? He was great, don't get me wrong, but after he died, how did you see him? He was an idol, he was perfect! Suddenly all the things you told me during late nights about the long drives, and the drinking were gone! And that is fine, George! That's how we grieve, and make everything okay again."

"Don't bring my dad into this."

"Just an example. Sorry, but I think that's the only way you will see. Death makes you care when you maybe shouldn't. I'm not excusing him, and he was nothing like your dad, but I can't stop caring. The way he treated me when I was pregnant stopped me from telling you any of the good parts. Please, just understand!"

"Well, I'm sorry. I don't."

I picked up my purse.

"I'm sorry that you don't. That still won't stop me."

"Where are you going?"

"The hospital to see if the Chief is in yet."

"Why?"

"So I can ask for a days leave to go to the funeral."

"I don't want to put you in this position, but I have to. As your boyfriend, as the father of our child, I have to ask you to not go."

"As respectfully as I can, I have to tell you that you don't get a choice. You may never understand it, but I have to do this. I'm going there to face up to my past, Billy, my mom. Somewhere down the line I know that having this chance will somehow save our family a lot of pain."

I turned around and left. I knew if I didn't do it now, then I wouldn't go ever. I would just shut my mouth, and we would never say anything about him again. Maybe I would find myself with pictures in the middle of the night, or calling old friends to talk about it. If I couldn't stand up to George now, or tell him the truth, I would be crippling our future somehow.

I just hoped that he would see it that way someday soon too.