fic: re-arranger of the proverbial bookshelf
Okay, this feels really strange, because I've not done this before. My last fics were back in Year One, and that didn't really count because they were all really bad. Just a little backstory before anything, I had three sources of inspiration for this, which is really rare because I'm currently suffering from a chronic disease called writer's block. Anyway, my first thought actually came from listening to "Die Alone" by Ingrid Michaelson, which probably explains the title, and no points for guessing that it's going to be an Izzie/Alex one-shot. Honestly, I was actually planning an Owen/Cris fic based on "Canal Song" by Iain Archer but that fell flat and it isn't the point. Besides, there were so many parallels between the lyrics of "Die Alone" and Izzie's, uhm, predicament and of course, the SF. I'm serious. Go ahead and listen to it and you'll be able to find more than five of them. Hell, PM me if you must and I'll send it over to you. So my second source of inspiration came from the (rewatch of) SF of season two, where Izzie mentioned that Denny died alone. Go figure. And, I hate to admit this, but what (or who) pushed me to start writing was actually tingthepro, who started writing a multi-chaptered House fic in the middle of Serg's Weekend.
So here it is, my first Grey's fic in a long time. Comments are more than appreciated, and please tell me if there's anything to be improved. If you've not watched the last few episodes of season five, I highly recommend navigating away from this page right now and going back to my memories after you're done watching it because this may be a little spoilerish. And of course, I don't own anything. This is just something I came up with just to keep the faith for season six.
I’m just a stranger
Even to myself
A re-arranger of
The proverbial bookshelf
It seemed like mere seconds between the day Izzie decided to spend the rest of her life with Denny and the day she told Denny to go away.
It seemed like mere seconds between the day Izzie was up and running through eighty-hour weeks and the day she was down, diagnosed with cancer.
You limp agonizingly to the bathroom, pulling your IV pole along next to you. It was hard to believe that this body of yours had supported your every day in the residency program, from running labs continuously to standing in surgeries for up to twelve hours on end. Now a five-minute walk to answer nature’s call simply drained every ounce of energy out of your already weak frame and doing all those things you used to do now seemed more than insurmountable.
You stand in front of the bathroom mirror and gaze at your reflection, half-expecting to see your usual rosy-pink cheeks and your thick, blonde hair which nearly made you a living before you started med school. Instead, your gaze is met by a pair of tired eyes, a pale face, and a scarf which covered what was once your golden locks.
You peel the three-toned scarf away from your scalp and let it drape over your shoulders, exposing your now almost-bald head, other than a few short blonde strands. A tear trickled down your cheek followed by another, and another, and another as you run your palm over the rough skin at the top of your head. It was getting worse and you knew it.
Plastic hits your cheek as you as you raise your left hand up to dry the stray tears which had escaped out the corner of your eye. You manage a small smile as you steal a glance at the white ring spotted with colored rhinestones, and the memories of the first night out of bed since it happened to attend The Perfect Wedding come flooding back to you.
“Iz?” It was Alex, back from his shift down at the pit. You replace the scarf onto your head and knot it loosely at the ends.
“Yeah, I’m in here.“ You call out as you open the door and trudge out of the bathroom, smiling weakly as you catch sight of Alex’s face.
“What were you doing in there, putting on your scarf again? I told you you didn’t need it; you look beautiful even without it, “he says as he slips the silken fabric off your head and plants a kiss on your forehead.
You smile.
“Alex?” You blurt out after a moment of silence.
“Yeah?”
“I…I can’t…I don’t…recognize myself anymore.”
“What do you mean, Iz?”
“It’s just that…I don’t even know if that girl staring back in the mirror is even someone I’m familiar with anymore. That isn’t me. I’m a stranger to myself, and it scares me a whole lot because things are changing so quickly and I’ll never know what’s gonna happen tomorrow, and-“
“Shh, shh,” is all Alex says, cutting you off. “You are, and will always be, the girl that I fell in love with and vowed to be responsible for. And this responsibility includes being there for you in sickness and in health, and I’ll always love you just the way you are.” He helps you into bed, readjusts your IV pole and strokes your cheek.
“Denny Duquette died alone,” is what you manage to come up with after a moment’s reprieve. “Denny died alone, and I was the only one he loved. His family should have been there, but I was the only one he had, and I still feel responsible for the way he left. And because of this, Alex, if I die-“
“Izzie, come on. The treatment’s working. Please don’t give me any more crap about dying because-“
“No, wait, Alex. Let me finish.” You protest. “After Denny died, I never thought I could love anyone ever again. But now, Alex, I know that I can’t love anyone but you because, through all this, you make me feel that maybe, just maybe, I won’t die alone.”
Alex opens his mouth to protest, but you put a gentle finger to his lips.
“My point is, Alex, if I die, and I don’t even know if I’ll make it through tomorrow, I just want you to know, before it’s too late, that I love you. I love you, Alex Karev.”
“I love you too, Izzie Stevens.” Alex says as he blinks away the tears which had welled up in his eyes and leans in to kiss you.
It seemed like mere seconds between the day Dr. Model and Dr. Evil Spawn met in the locker room and exchanged their first insults and the day Izzie Stevens and Alex Karev exchanged the vows that would have them spend the rest of their lives together.
But that kiss which lasted mere seconds seemed like a lifetime.
I never thought I could love anyone but myself
Now I know I can’t love anyone but you
You make me think that maybe I won’t die alone
Maybe I won’t die alone
Hope you all liked it.
out.
So here it is, my first Grey's fic in a long time. Comments are more than appreciated, and please tell me if there's anything to be improved. If you've not watched the last few episodes of season five, I highly recommend navigating away from this page right now and going back to my memories after you're done watching it because this may be a little spoilerish. And of course, I don't own anything. This is just something I came up with just to keep the faith for season six.
I’m just a stranger
Even to myself
A re-arranger of
The proverbial bookshelf
It seemed like mere seconds between the day Izzie decided to spend the rest of her life with Denny and the day she told Denny to go away.
It seemed like mere seconds between the day Izzie was up and running through eighty-hour weeks and the day she was down, diagnosed with cancer.
You limp agonizingly to the bathroom, pulling your IV pole along next to you. It was hard to believe that this body of yours had supported your every day in the residency program, from running labs continuously to standing in surgeries for up to twelve hours on end. Now a five-minute walk to answer nature’s call simply drained every ounce of energy out of your already weak frame and doing all those things you used to do now seemed more than insurmountable.
You stand in front of the bathroom mirror and gaze at your reflection, half-expecting to see your usual rosy-pink cheeks and your thick, blonde hair which nearly made you a living before you started med school. Instead, your gaze is met by a pair of tired eyes, a pale face, and a scarf which covered what was once your golden locks.
You peel the three-toned scarf away from your scalp and let it drape over your shoulders, exposing your now almost-bald head, other than a few short blonde strands. A tear trickled down your cheek followed by another, and another, and another as you run your palm over the rough skin at the top of your head. It was getting worse and you knew it.
Plastic hits your cheek as you as you raise your left hand up to dry the stray tears which had escaped out the corner of your eye. You manage a small smile as you steal a glance at the white ring spotted with colored rhinestones, and the memories of the first night out of bed since it happened to attend The Perfect Wedding come flooding back to you.
“Iz?” It was Alex, back from his shift down at the pit. You replace the scarf onto your head and knot it loosely at the ends.
“Yeah, I’m in here.“ You call out as you open the door and trudge out of the bathroom, smiling weakly as you catch sight of Alex’s face.
“What were you doing in there, putting on your scarf again? I told you you didn’t need it; you look beautiful even without it, “he says as he slips the silken fabric off your head and plants a kiss on your forehead.
You smile.
“Alex?” You blurt out after a moment of silence.
“Yeah?”
“I…I can’t…I don’t…recognize myself anymore.”
“What do you mean, Iz?”
“It’s just that…I don’t even know if that girl staring back in the mirror is even someone I’m familiar with anymore. That isn’t me. I’m a stranger to myself, and it scares me a whole lot because things are changing so quickly and I’ll never know what’s gonna happen tomorrow, and-“
“Shh, shh,” is all Alex says, cutting you off. “You are, and will always be, the girl that I fell in love with and vowed to be responsible for. And this responsibility includes being there for you in sickness and in health, and I’ll always love you just the way you are.” He helps you into bed, readjusts your IV pole and strokes your cheek.
“Denny Duquette died alone,” is what you manage to come up with after a moment’s reprieve. “Denny died alone, and I was the only one he loved. His family should have been there, but I was the only one he had, and I still feel responsible for the way he left. And because of this, Alex, if I die-“
“Izzie, come on. The treatment’s working. Please don’t give me any more crap about dying because-“
“No, wait, Alex. Let me finish.” You protest. “After Denny died, I never thought I could love anyone ever again. But now, Alex, I know that I can’t love anyone but you because, through all this, you make me feel that maybe, just maybe, I won’t die alone.”
Alex opens his mouth to protest, but you put a gentle finger to his lips.
“My point is, Alex, if I die, and I don’t even know if I’ll make it through tomorrow, I just want you to know, before it’s too late, that I love you. I love you, Alex Karev.”
“I love you too, Izzie Stevens.” Alex says as he blinks away the tears which had welled up in his eyes and leans in to kiss you.
It seemed like mere seconds between the day Dr. Model and Dr. Evil Spawn met in the locker room and exchanged their first insults and the day Izzie Stevens and Alex Karev exchanged the vows that would have them spend the rest of their lives together.
But that kiss which lasted mere seconds seemed like a lifetime.
I never thought I could love anyone but myself
Now I know I can’t love anyone but you
You make me think that maybe I won’t die alone
Maybe I won’t die alone
Hope you all liked it.
out.