Thanks so much for the reviews everybody! I hope you all have a great weekend and enjoyed Grey's last night. I know I sure did. So sad, with Denny and his old heart. I can't wait for next week! "Let me help you." Oh boy :)

I almost did something really mean to you guys. So super uber mean that you probably wouldn't read my story. As a general hint, it sort of involved killing Molly. But then I had a change of heart, as you will be glad to know.

ebinky: Yeah, I was thinking about that, the fact that Izzie would be busy so often, that poor Molly would probably end up living with babysitters! I thought it would be nice though, just a nice fleeting thought, and because Izzie seems like she might be the kind of person to hope she could do something like that, adopt Molly.

Greysdays13: haha don't worry, it's coming. I love Alex and Izzie so much. Like to the point where I have an unhealthy obsession with them hehe.

Haller: Thanks so much! Oh me too :) I was jumping up and down, like I said and my brother was like "CREE! What are you doing!"

VillageVoice: Thanks for the review! I'm sorry about that, I realized that after I posted it. I meant it to be Erica Hahn but it slipped my mind. Thanks for pointin' it out, enjoy this chapter!

Izzygeorge: Thank you very much! I take this to be a huge compliment, because I am a huge fan of your writing, especially Shades of Grey. The whole scene with Cristina receiving kitchen appliances? It absoloutely killed me and they should put it on the show.

IloveHarryPotter17: That makes two of us :) I'm really enjoying writing this story, and I love Molly. There is something about young children I just love to write. Thank you for your review!


Disclaimer: Blah blah blee bla. I don't own anything.

"Doctor Stevens," Katerina stood up. Her hands were shaking a mile a minute. "Thank God you're here. My husband.. he doesn't remember who I am. He's awake, but he doesn't know who the hell I am."

Izzie nodded briskly. "Katerina," she said, her voice soothing, "when did your husband wake up?"

"About five minutes ago. Please," she said, her eyes filling with tears, "you've got to help him."

Izzie walked into the hospital room. "Mr. Simons," she said, smiling warmly, "my name is Doctor Stevens."

"Why the hell am I in a hospital?" He asked, tugging at the IV in his arm.

"Mr. Simons-"

"And who are you?" He asked, pointing accusingly at Katerina. "Where's Lucille?"

"Mr. Simons," Izzie tried again. "You've been in an accident. A car accident. You fell from a very high distance and hurt your head very badly. We believe you're suffering from memory loss, which is a very normal thing to have occured when you've been through an accident like this. This," Izzie gestured to Katerina, "is your wife. Her name is Katerina Simons."

Jacob screwed up his face. "What the f-"

"Jakey," Katerina said, clumps of mascara falling down her cheeks in watery drips, "don'tcha remember me?"

"Where the hell is Lucille!" He yelled again. "I want Lucille."

"Jacob," Katerina sobbed, "who is Lucille."

"My girlfriend, you asshole!"

"Mr. Simons," Izzie said, stepping in between Katerina and Jacob. "What year is it?"

"It's 1996. And I want my goddamn girlfriend."

"Mr. Simons, please calm down. We're going to get Lucille for you, and then we're going to run some tests, okay?"

Jacob nodded. "Fine. Do whatever you want. Just get me Lucille and," Jacob pointed, "get her out of here."

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"George, have you seen Izzie?" Meredith asked.

"No," he said, "why?"

"No reason," Meredith said quickly. "But if you find her, tell her I need to see her."

"Ookay," George said, wheeling a middle aged man into the elevator.

Meredith paged Izzie, tapping her foot up and down quickly. She massaged her temples and flexed her fingers. She had counted to a hundred and forty eight when Izzie appeared.

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Meredith," Izzie could barely speak. "Is she okay?"

"Iz, she's.. she's alive."

"But is she okay?"

"Iz.. the surgery. It didn't go so well. They don't know.. exactly what happened, because they gave her the immunosuppressants, before the surgery and they thought it would be fine, but.. they think her body rejected the heart. It was severe, and.. the damage to the heart, is bad."

"But," Izzie licked her lips, "but it takes.. it takes time to develop, doesn't it? There are biopsies and test and symptoms and.. it doesn't happen right away."

"She's young," Meredith said. "That may have something to do with it. Her old heart was so out of shape, and her body took a bad beating. You can come see her, if you want."

Izzie shook her head. Tears clouded her vision. "Will.. she be okay?"

"We don't know, Iz. C'mon," Meredith held her hand out to Izzie and led her towards the elevator. It was a silent ride up. "Do you want me to wait here?" Meredith asked.

Izzie shrugged. "I don't know."

"Okay. You can go," Meredith said. "I'll be right here."

Izzie nodded. Molly was holding tightly onto Wesley. "Izzie?" She said slowly, her breath raspy.

"Hey," Izzie smiled and hugged Molly. She would not allow herself to cry in front of a five year old. "How are you?"

"I don't know," Molly whispered. "I feel bad. My chest hurts and." She took a breath. "I feel like I been running for a long time."

"I know," Izzie told her. "Sometimes that happens. But we're going to make you better, okay?"

Molly nodded. "Yeah. But you said. That I'd feel brand new. After the surgery."

"I'm sorry."

Molly's lip trembled. "It's okay. It isn't your fault. It just happens." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"No, Moll. It doesn't just happen. It isn't fair."

"I know," Molly said. "But people always tell me that life isn't fair. I think." Molly took a deep, gaspy breath." Maybe I haven't been listenin'."

Izzie sat on the edge of Molly's bed, and was surprised to find that Molly had crawled into her lap. A shaking hand reached up and twirled a strand of Izzie's hair. Izzie gently put her arm around Molly's shoulders, and for what was probably the first time in a long time, Molly cried into Izzie's shoulders, and was able to act like a little kid. Molly's strawberry blonde curles mixed into Izzie's blonde ones.

Izzie cried too. She cried for Molly, who was alone and little, and didn't deserve any of what was happening to her. She cried for Hannah, her own daughter, who was sick. She cried for Denny, and herself. When they pulled apart, Molly laughed, a feeble laugh, and poked Izzie's cheek gently.

"We're babies," she said. "But sometimes that's okay."

"Yeah," Izzie agreed. "Sometimes it is."

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"Iz," Alex nudged her awake. Her eyes flew open. She was tired, oh so tired, but she was used to it. She'd been on call thirty six hours straight and not been allowed to sleep once. Sleep when you can, where you can was the motto surgeons lived by.

"Yeah?" She said. Her voice cracked and she wiped sleep from her eyes. "Crap," she jumped up. "Is it Jacob Simons? He woke up and they think he's got a-"

"It's not that, Izzie. It's Molly."

"What? Shit, Alex she's not-"

"No, she's alive. Don't worry," Alex said. "But you might wanna sit down."

Izzie sunk into the chair and turned to Alex. She swallowed. "Please.. if it's about her heart, I don't."

"Iz, Molly's grandmother came this morning at one thirty. I don't know.. the full story, but she says she hasn't been in contact with her daughter for years, and all of a sudden she wanted to mend ties, and came to their house and found a new family living there. She.. she wants to take her home, soon. Out of Social Services."

Izzie didn't know why she started to cry. Because this was a good thing for Molly. Molly had been alone for a long time, in a house fill of broken children. She deserved to have a home and a family. But tears cascaded down her cheeks. She also did not know why she let Alex pull her into his arms. Rationally, she should have pushed him away, told him to screw off and never come back. But Izzie had never been the most rational person. She let Alex hold her tightly, stroke her hair.

"What.. what about the surgery?" Izzie said quietly, wiping her nose. "What about her heart?"

"She's sick, really tired and sick. But she's on the LVAD machine. She's on the top of the transplant list. They're hoping a heart will come in soon. A nice Christmas present, maybe." Alex said, his voice kinder and softer than Izzie had heard it be in a long time.

"Yeah," she said. "Why didn't this lady know her own daughter was dead?" Izzie wondered.

"I don't know, Iz."

"I think," Izzie said, her head resting on Alex's shoulder, "that the world is a really messed up place. I like to try, sometimes. And believe that it all works out, one way or another. But I don't see how you can think that, because of everything that happens. The people that get sick, and the people in countries that don't have any food. All that. And the people that are rich and happy. It doesn't make sense. It doesn't balance out.

"I used to go to church, every Sunday," she said. "I loved it. And I just believed in God, and I didn't question it. But.. you have to wonder, don't you? If God is supposed to be this just, great almighty person that never does any wrong.. how the hell does he let stuff like this happen?"

Then Izzie stayed quiet for a little while, and Alex did some talking. "Iz," he said, starting off slowly. "I don't know, what to tell you. Because I agree. The world, I think, is a shitty place. Shitty things happen to people that don't deserve them, and all the ones that get everything handed to them, on a silver plate? They're fine. I think, maybe you just have to accept it. That it sucks and it's unfair. But it happens. And about God? I don't know." Alex itched his chin. "My parents never took me to church. I think," he offered, "people believe in God because of that kind of stuff. All the awful stuff. Because if you don't believe in something, you'd go crazy, thinking about it all."

"Can I see her?" She asked Alex.

He nodded. "Sure. Go on in. Page me if you need me," he kissed the top of Izzie's head as she went into Molly's room.

Izzie pushed the door open slowly. She had that feeling you get when you fall asleep on a train ride that's just short enough to make you feel unrested and just long enough to make you feel disoriented and groggy.

A woman was sitting beside Molly. An older woman, but not as old as Izzie had expected. She had greying hair, but there was patches of dying blonde in it, and though her skin was wrinkled, Izzie could tell she had been beautiful once. Maybe she still was a little beautiful. The woman was knitting and watching carefully as Molly slept.

"Hi," Izzie smiled. "My name is Doctor Stevens. I've been working on your grandaughter's case for a while." Izzie tried to appear as though she hadn't just been crying.

"Ah, the famous Izzie Stevens," the woman smiled. Her voice was crisp and clear. It reminded Izzie of a catolouge, the catolouges her mother used to receive in the mail. They were new, fresh and when you flipped the pages, they smelled exciting and a little like Christmas. "Molly never stops talking about you. The minute I got here, it was Izzie this and Izzie that," the woman said, though not unkindly.

"Yeah," Izzie said modestly. "Molly.. she's amazing. You're very lucky to have her in your life."

"She hasn't been in my life. My daughter, Katherine, we had a disagreement. She became pregnant with Molly when she was young, only nineteen. The father.. her husband, he promised he'd take care of her and the baby. I didn't believe them. I kicked her out and I guess.. they didn't do so poorly."

Izzie's heart hurt. She was being fed too much information at once. Everything was too fresh. Denny, the cardiomyopathy. Talk of unsympathetic mothers and shotgun weddings.

"I missed them, I really did. But I was so angry and hurt. And when it finally occured to me to talk to them.. of course it was too late. The hospital told me they were killed in a train accident. They were crossing in the car and it stalled and... the train hit the car. They said it was probably a very quick death. Which is good, you know."

"I'm sorry," Izzie said. "I'm very sorry. For everything that happened to you and your family."

"Thank you," the woman nodded. "My name's Greta, by the way."

Izzie nodded. "Hi Greta."

"So, what's wrong with her, exactly? They gave me a bunch of fancy schmancy doctor talk, but I didn't understand a word," Greta put down her knitting.

"Molly has cardiomyopathy. It's a heart disease, that basically causes the heart muscles to deteriorate. It's pretty serious, and sometimes the patient can be put on an LVAD machine, which helps the heart pump blood, which Molly's on now, because her body rejected the heart and she's.. she's not doing so well. Molly was put on a transplant list, for a new heart, and she got one, they operated just a few hours ago, but like I said, her body rejected it. We gave Molly something called immunosuppressants, which is supposed to stop this from happening and normally," Meredith explained, "it does. It usually works very well. But it didn't work for Molly. So now-"

"She needs a new heart," Greta finished.

"Exactly. But there aren't always hearts just sitting around waiting to be put in people's bodies. So we have to wait," Izzie explained.

"Okay," Greta murmured.

"I know it's hard to hear, and I know it must be awful for you, getting here and she's sick."

"Yeah, it sure is," Greta folded her hands. "I just feel so guilty, you know? Because if I hadn't been so stuck up and full of myself, I could have apologized to Katherine and Sam, because he was a good boy. He really was. They were both such good kids. Doesn't it kill you? To think about the difference a few seconds makes? If they had left the house seven seconds later, maybe they would have hit three red lights and the train wouldn't have hit them. They would still be alive-"

"And you wouldn't get to see your grandaughter," Izzie sat down beside Greta.

"I would, eventually."

"Maybe not," Izzie said. "Because she would still be sick, regardless of Katherine and Sam dying. Maybe she would eventually get too sick and you'd never get to see her."

Greta sighed heavily. Izzie squeezed her shoulder. "I know. So you can't drive yourself crazy thinking about what might have been," Izzie said. "You've just got to remember what is, okay?"

"Okay," Greta nodded. "I think you're in the wrong proffession," she joked. "You ought to be a motivational speaker, not a doctor."

Izzie smiled and stared at her pager. "I have to go now, another one of my patient's needs me. But please, when Molly wakes up tell her I'll be here soon."

Greta picked up her knitting. "Will do, Izzie. Thank you."

*

Meredith picked at her sweater. "I think God hates me," she told Cristina."

"No," Cristina said. "God hates me."

"You don't even believe in God," Meredith said.

"Whatever. The world hates me."

"Wanna play whose life sucks more?" Meredith asked.

"Yes please," Cristina said.

They were interupted by Alex who nearly knocked a teenager with bad acne over on his way to them. "Listen," he said, "Molly needs a heart. Fast."

"Alright," Cristina said. "We'll just magic one up out of nowhere! Ah! Here we are."

"Yang, stop it. Molly's grandmother is here, she wants to take Molly back to Ohio after she's better. But I don't think, the way things are going that she's going to get to take her home. Molly is sick. Really really sick and she's on an LVAD machine with a shitty heart. So she needs a heart. And I'm not telling you to magic one up out of nowhere for her. I'm just saying, that if we don't find Molly a heart, she is going to die." Alex turned on his heel. Meredith stood up.

"Alex!" She called after him. "Where's Izzie?"

"She was with Molly," he said. "I don't know anymore. Probably with her patient, the one who fell sixty feet and thinks he's eighteen."

"I have to go," Meredith said to Cristina.

"Fine. Go. I'll finish the game with the wall. Or Lexie! Lexie's life is pretty pitiful right now. I'm sure she could use some tormenting."

"Cristina," Meredith said. "Don't."

*

Meredith stuck her head into the supply closet. It was one of many she'd been sticking her head into over the past five minutes, trying to find Izzie. "Izzie?" She said. "Hello?" She was about to shut the door, when she heard she heard something shift. "Iz?"

The person sniffed in response. Meredith squinted, and saw Izzie sitting on the ground. Her head was leaning back on a shelf of towels, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. "Alex told me about Molly," she said, sitting down.

"When I was sixteen," Izzie said, so quietly that Meredith had to strain to hear, "I had a baby. A baby girl named Sarah. I gave her up for adoption and last year.. when we were still interns, her parents came back. Her adoptive parents. They named her Hannah. She had leukemia and I gave her a bone marrow transplant, but they wouldn't let me meet her. She was tired. This.. I thought this might be my chance. To show I wasn't a horrible person for having a baby when I was sixteen. I was trailer trash and I thought with Molly.. that I could bring her home and she would be mine and it would be like the thing with Hannah or Sarah... like it hadn't happened.

"Only now her grandma is here. And her grandma, Greta, she's such a sweet person. She deserves to take Molly home, because they are blood. But I'm a selfish bitch and I.. I can't help being upset about it. That she gets Molly and I don't. And that Molly is sick. She might die. Alex didn't let on, but she might. I know she might, because heart rejection normally takes days, but for her it took.. what. An hour? And she doesn't have a heart, not a good one."

"Oh Iz," Meredith put her arm around Izzie.

"I'm an awful person," Izzie said quietly.

"No. You are not an awful person. And you're also not a selfish bitch and most definitely Iz, you are not trailer trash. You are not. Okay?"

"Okay," Izzie whimpered, before letting all her stupid emotions overcome her, tears streaming out of her eyes, pasting her eyelashes into triangles. And for the second time that night, she allowed someone to comfort her, to hold her and make her believe it would all be okay.