I Never Knew
Title: I Never Knew
Pairing: George/Alex
Word Count: 6,341
Rating: PG-13
Notes: A mix of all three prompts, but mostly the phrase ("You learn to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh, but you can never truly love someone until you find out what makes them cry").
Status: Complete
Summary: After the Meredith fiasco, George found himself taking up residence at Alex's apartment. At first a place of convenience, now it's becoming a place George will be proud to call home.
Seattle Grace Hospital
“George, come on! You can’t be serious!” Izzie begged, following George down the halls of the hospital. “You can’t move out!”
“I’m not staying there!” George snapped back, storming into an empty stairwell. “She cried, Izzie. I told her I loved her, we had sex, and she cried. I’m not going back there.”
Izzie bit her lip, knowing that Meredith had really hurt George, but what was she supposed to do? She was their roommate. She couldn’t turn back time. George was her best friend. If he moved out, they’d grow apart. “Where would you go?”
“Anything’s better than there, Izzie,” George said, instantly regretting it when he saw the hurt look on Izzie’s face. “Iz, I didn’t mean-”
“Forget it.” Izzie sent George a final look before turning her back and leaving.
Now alone, George muttered under his breath, running his hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant to say that. He just couldn’t face Meredith. He had wanted to be that man for her and he couldn’t be. It wasn’t Izzie’s fault. “Great,” he muttered.
---
Alex looked up from his book as George sullenly walked into the hallway and fell onto a bed. “You look like you’ve just been condemned to death.”
“Shut up,” George mumbled tiredly.
“So you slept with Meredith-”
George sprang up in the bed. “You know?!”
Alex shrugged. “Yeah. So? S’not like I’m gonna broadcast it. I’m an ass, but not that…okay, I am. But I’m not going to.” Quickly finishing his paragraph, he glanced at George. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” George grumbled. “How’d you find out anyway?”
“I’m more observant than you think. How do you think I figured out the valedictorian in my high school was sleeping with the principal? There are signs. You just have to pay attention.”
George blinked. “Are you serious?
“About what? The high school thing or me noticing?”
“Both.”
Alex chuckled. “Completely.” Returning his eyes back to his book, he could hear the sheets crinkle as George lay back down. Snatching the pen cap between his teeth, Alex quickly scrawled something into the margin of the book.
“She cried.”
Alex stared at George. “What?”
“We were having sex and she cried.” George shook his head without raising it from the pillow. “Why am I even telling you this?”
“Because this hospital has driven you nuts?”
George snorted softly. “Probably.”
Alex lips quirked into a smirk right before his beeper went off. His eyes flew to the screen and he groaned. “911. I gotta go.” He jumped off the bed, stopping for a moment and turning back to George. “Look, I’ve got a foldout couch. If you want, you can use it.” He shrugged. “At least until you grow a pair.” Without waiting for a reply, Alex turned and rushed off to his dying patient.
George stared at the spot Alex had been standing before his eyes rose to the ceiling. “Did he just invite me to live with him?”
---
Now free from his shift and shrugging on his jacket, George glanced over at Alex from behind the cover of his locker. He’d offered him his couch. He was Alex ‘Evil Spawn’ Karev. Why the hell would he offer him a place to stay?
George shook his head, closing his locker. He walked over to Alex, thankful that the locker room was relatively empty. “Okay, so assuming you weren’t abducted by pod people when you made the offer, I’d appreciate the couch.”
Alex blinked. He’d caught what George had said, but really, when had Bambi learned to talk that fast? “What were you in high school? On the Debate Team?”
George blushed. “Maybe.”
Alex chuckled, slamming his locker shut and tossing a backpack over his shoulder. It looked heavy. “And, yeah. The offer’s still open.” He nodded towards the door. “Ready?”
George nodded. “Thanks.”
“Whatever, Bambi.” Alex paused halfway out the door. “How fast can you run?”
Aw, crap.
---
“It was bad enough thinking you ran,” George panted as he ran after Alex, water splashing against his feet. He hopped over a particularly deep puddle, mentally cursing all the rain Seattle got.
“It’s your own fault,” Alex mocked, turning backwards as his roller blades glided over the concrete. “I said we could take the bus, but you said no.”
“I didn’t realize you lived so far from the hospital!”
“Far? It’s only ten blocks.”
“Only?!” George sputtered.
Alex turned forwards, making a small jump over a pot hole he’d encountered a lot since moving to Seattle. He shrugged, not really getting the point of George’s shock. “We’ve been here what? Six months? You get used to it.”
George gasped, half from lack of oxygen, half from disbelief. “You do this daily?!”
Alex nodded.
“You’re crazy,” George wheezed. He hadn’t run like this since high school.
Alex shook his head, skidding to a stop beside a bench. He heard George pant out a thanks as he collapsed into the wood. Staying silent while George struggled to catch his breath, he made a few complicated turns and spins.
Glancing at George, Alex shook his head and sat next to panting brunette. He swung his backpack onto his lap, pulling out his sneakers.
“What are you doing?” George asked hoarsely.
“We just got off a thirty-six hour shift. I’m not going back because you had a heart attack,” Alex replied, pulling his roller blades from his feet and slipping on his shoes.
Figuring it was Alex’s way of saying that he cared about his coworker’s health, George nodded, knowing that if he said ‘thanks’ one more time, Alex would probably slap him. Finally feeling his breathing even out, George swallowed, pushing himself from the bench. “Okay, let’s go.”
---
Alex’s apartment definitely wasn’t what George had expected. He’d expected a mess, Playboy posters, the thong some hooker left behind; anything that would reflect the Alex everyone saw at the hospital. But this? It was like this Alex and that Alex were two different people. It was creepy.
Rolling his eyes at George’s obvious shock, Alex shrugged off his jacket. “I’m gonna jump in the shower. Feel free to look around.”
George nodded slowly, not really paying attention. He vaguely heard a door close and water turning on as he dropped his backpack beside the couch. Figuring he may as well get the lay of the land, George circled around the large living room.
Beige paint covered the walls and a set of French style doors led to a small but comfortable balcony that gave a nice view of the bay. George guessed Alex didn’t get to use it much what with all the rain and his hours at the hospital. Turning away from the doors, George looked around, spotting a large bookshelf full of medical texts, books, and pictures. A long black leather couch sat in the middle of the room with a flat screen television mounted on the wall.
From there, George could clearly see the kitchen through the in-room window. It looked to be around medium size with the table and chairs shoved into the corner. A hallway was located beside the kitchen entrance. To his immediate left, there was a door, most likely to the bathroom-he could hear the water running. Another door was at the end of the hall.
“S’gotta be his bedroom,” George mumbled. He shuffled his feet, trying to decide if he was overstepping his boundaries by going in.
“Feel free to look around.”
“I’ll see it eventually,” George shrugged, turning back to the living room. He stopped, staring at the strangely clean room. George pivoted, going straight down the hall. “Please be a mess,” he pleaded. In just one day, he’d seen a rude yet caring Alex Karev and now an Alex that kept his apartment clean? It was just getting too weird, almost like the Alex they knew was a fake. How much was Alex hiding?
George pushed the door open, his eyes falling on the dark blue walls and queen size bed blanketed in black. A large dresser sat beside the French windows, letting the light stream in over the bed. Again, like in the living room, there was a set of double doors that led to another balcony.
He stood in the middle of the room, staring out the glass doors until something hit his foot. Looking down, George saw a small purple ball lying against his shoe. He bent down, picking it up and raising it to his face.
He screamed.
---
Alex was washing the conditioner from his hair when he heard George scream. Now, many people think he would have left it alone, left George to whatever had scared him, but Alex was just a big bag of surprises today.
Throwing the shower’s sliding door open and grabbing his towel, Alex jumped from the shower. He tightened as best he could in the rush and shot from the bathroom.
Alex could clearly see down the hall and after noticing that the living room was empty, ran for his bedroom. He barged in. “What is it?!”
“Rat!”
Alex blinked. “The…” he trailed off as he dissolved into laughter. Alex’s arms instinctively went around his stomach, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly that his eye lashes were beginning to glimmer. “You’re afraid of rats?” he gasped out.
“They’re gross!” George jumped onto the bed as the rat scurried by his feet. When his eyes had fallen on the rat, he’d dropped the ball and it had broken open when it hit the ground.
Alex laughed harder, the glimmer on his lashes joining and falling down his face. They were followed by another and another as his knees buckled.
“Stop laughing!”
“Can’t! Too…funny!”
George glared, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Alex. “Ass,” he grumbled.
“Duh.” Alex leaned forward, still laughing softly, picking up the rat and patting its head. “You can get off my bed now.”
George got off the slowly, edging towards Alex and it. “You have a rat?”
Alex nodded. He pushed the rat into George’s face, making the shorter man jump. “Steve, meet Bambi. Bambi, meet Steve McQueen.”
George blinked. “You named him after the rat on House MD?”
“…No…”
“You just keep getting weirder today, huh?”
Alex pet Steve’s gray fur, not bothering to answer. “You wanna hold him? He won’t bite unless you’re Yang.”
“You trained him, didn’t you?” George asked, slowly taking Steve into his hands. He had to live with the thing. Might as well get used to it. With those little beady eyes, and the twitchy nose, and-ugh, he had to stop.
“Does that even need an answer?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” Alex shifted his weight onto his left leg as an old knee injury began to bother him. “I need to get dressed.”
“Okay.”
Alex waited a moment. “So you have two choices,” he said. “One, you can go take your shower. Or two, you can stay in here and drop your pants, because if you are, I’m not being the only naked one.”
George’s face flushed. “I’ll…uh…bye.” He dashed from the room.
Alex shook his head at the now closed door. He went to his dresser, sidestepping Steve’s ball, and pulled out his clothes, tossing them on the bed. Alex dropped his towel, leaning over and grabbing his box-
George opened the door. “Sorry. I forgot to-” His eyes widened and he spun around, eyes now directed at the sand colored carpet.
Alex pulled his boxers on quickly, a small blush gracing his face. George isn’t in his house for an hour and he’s seen him naked faster than Izzie…God, he felt like a man whore. Usually he wouldn’t mind. He’d had one night stands too many times to count in his life. But this was George. A man, a coworker, Bambi. That just wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just too weird. “What?”
“I, uh, I forgot to give you back Steve.” George raised his arm to show the squirming rat.
Alex rolled his eyes-mostly out of instinct since George couldn’t see him-and picked up the broken ball. After quickly making sure it still connected okay-it did-he walked up behind George, reaching around him to get Steve, whom George was now holding firmly to his chest. Not that Alex blamed him. When Steve got squirmy, he had to do the same thing to make sure he didn’t get loose. “I got him.”
George jumped slightly when Alex reached around his arm-still wet from the shower-catching slightly against his t-shirt. He stiffened. “I’m gonna go shower.”
Alex dropped Steve back into his ball, backing up a step so he could lower it to the floor without his face becoming friends with George’s ass. He straightened, watching for a second as Steve began to scamper around the room. “Towels are under the sink.”
“Tha-”
“Say ‘thanks’ one more time and I’ll kick your ass.”
“Duly noted.”
Alex shut the door as George left, chuckling. This was definitely going to be interesting.
---
George sat on the couch, sinking to the comfortable leather and beginning to doze off as Alex plopped down next to him. He startled awake.
“Dude, you jumped a foot.”
“Ass.”
“I thought we established that already.”
“We did. I just wanted to remind you,” George said. Okay, this was weird. They were bickering like friends. Way too weird.
“You hungry?”
“You cook?”
“Do I look like I have a cook?”
“No,” George admitted. “But you don’t look like you know how to cook either.”
“Well, you look more like a kicked puppy than a doctor, so it evens out.”
George sunk in his spot. “You irritate me.”
Alex shrugged. “I do that to a lot of people.”
“Oh, I know.”
Alex chuckled. “So are you?”
George nodded.
Pushing himself up from the couch, Alex straightened his old Iowa State t-shirt-damn, the thing was getting tight-and glanced back at George. “Anything specific?”
“As long as it isn’t moving, I’m good.”
“Okay, so no mutant sushi.”
George shook his head. “Weirder by the second,” he joked in a singsong voice.
Alex smirked. “You know it.”
---
Now sitting across from Alex at the taller intern’s small table, George raised his eyebrows and swallowed. “You can actually cook.”
“I told you I could.”
“You think I believed you?”
“You did eat it.”
“Good point.”
Alex shook his head, chuckling and stuffed another piece of baked ziti into his mouth. He hadn’t told anyone, but he’d minored in culinary in college before he moved onto med school. It was his fallback if medicine didn’t work out. But that in no way meant he wasn’t going to work his ass off at Seattle Grace.
“Why don’t you laugh?” George blurted out. It had been bugging him all day.
Alex looked at George, confused. “I do laugh. I laugh at you daily.”
George shook his head. “You don’t laugh. You chuckle.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No,” George continued. “The only time I’ve seen you flat out laugh was in your bedroom.”
“Who wouldn’t laugh at that? You were on the bed, screaming like a girl.”
“I was not!”
“Yeah, you were.”
George glared at Alex lightly. “Was not,” he grumbled.
Glad that he’d weaseled the topic off himself, Alex dropped some more grated cheese onto his dinner. “I’m surprised you knew who Steve McQueen was. I took you more for a CW viewer. Not FOX.”
“I don’t watch it much,” George admitted. “I’ve only seen it in passing. I can’t remember any of the characters names except for the rats.”
“Because Steve is amazing,” Alex said as if it were obvious. He blinked. “Wait. You don’t remember House? How do you not remember House?”
“I remember House,” George defended. “Remember? I knew the show’s title.”
Alex hit his forehead and shook his head. “We have a lot of work to do.”
---
“She had a tapeworm,” George said, amazed, “Do you know how rare it is to have one in your brain?”
“I am a doctor,” Alex said, groggy. He turned his head, trying to mask a yawn.
No such luck.
“We probably should go to bed,” George suggested. “Early day tomorrow.”
Alex nodded. “Let me get the extra sheets.” He stood from the couch, cursing as his knee buckled and he stumbled.
George sat straight. “You okay?”
“Fine. Leg fell asleep,” Alex lied.
George stared at Alex uncertainly for a minute before nodding. He could have sworn he’d seen pain flash across Alex’s face.
After he was sure George wasn’t going to question him, Alex straightened and made the short walk to the closet. He tossed the blankets at George, smirking when the shorter man tried to dodge and fell off the couch.
“Night.”
Alex nodded his goodnight and walked into his room.
---
Alex woke up the next morning to the sound of Hugh Laurie’s voice blaring through the apartment and George cursing. Climbing off the bed tiredly, Alex nudged Steve’s ball out of his way and left the room. “Mind telling me why you’re waking me up at,” he glanced at the clock, “six in the morning? On my day off, no less?”
George blushed, fumbling with the remote. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went in the kitchen for a drink and I found cake mix.”
Alex blinked slowly. “You found cake mix?”
George nodded. “I saw it and…I just started baking. I blame Izzie.”
“She gave you the baking bug.”
“Hence why I’m gonna kill her.”
Alex looked thoughtful for a moment. “So you wanna tell me why House was blasting through my apartment?”
George fidgeted. “It was too quiet and I needed something to watch. I tried to turn it down-”
“And failed.”
George glowered. “Your surround sound button is to close to the stupid volume control.”
“Uh-huh. Blame the remote.”
The timer dinged.
“Your cake is done.”
“I didn’t make a cake,” George said, ducking into the kitchen.
Alex’s eyebrow rose questioningly. Then what the hell did he bake? He followed George into the kitchen, his jaw dropping the second he saw the table. He burst into laughter again.
Alex’s table was virtually gone and in its place was a mountain of cupcakes. Red cupcakes. It was-
Wait a second.
“I only had two boxes. How in the hell did you make this many? There must be-”
“Seventy-eight.”
“What the fuck?”
George ducked his head. “So Izzie taught me a few things.”
“Apparently.” Alex stared at the table for a moment. “I thought all I had was vanilla frosting,” he said, confused.
“You did. I found food coloring.”
“So you made it red because…?”
“Red is more fun.”
Alex nodded. And he says I’m weird. He silently decided not to mention that red was the hair color of the woman who had started this whole mess.
“You want one?”
“There are seventy-eight cupcakes sitting on my kitchen table.” Alex laughed so softly that George barely heard it. “Dude, of course I want one.”
---
Six hours and twenty-odd cupcakes later, Alex and George sat in front of the television once again, laughing at House’s antics.
Alex shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth, shutting off the TV. “So I guess you liked it?”
“Oh, yeah.” George paused. “I got you to laugh again. Earlier in the kitchen, you laughed.”
“You didn’t make me laugh,” Alex said tossing the wrapper at George’s head. Must he keep going back to that topic? “The cupcakes did.”
“Ah, but I made the cupcakes.”
“I’ll give you that.”
George smiled.
---
Two days later, now that the shock of George and Alex living together had worn off, work was somewhat normal. Alex was still being an ass-George was beginning to suspect Multiple Personality Disorder. George was still avoiding Meredith. Izzie was trying to get George to come home. And Cristina…Cristina was just being Cristina.
Surprisingly, living with Alex wasn’t all that bad. Yeah, he still made fun of George, but it was more playful than anything. It was almost like they were becoming friends. Even if it was only when they were out of work.
But even though the living situation wasn’t bad, George still felt like he was out of the loop on something. He wasn’t sure what since there wasn’t any proof, but something in his gut was telling him all was not well. But he had to be honest. Before moving in with Alex, George had never realized how guarded the other man was when he was at work. At home…Alex was like a male Lorelai Gilmore-"Izzie made me watch it!"
“…okay?”
George snapped his head up. “Huh?”
Izzie sighed, frustrated. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
“Sorry,” George said, guilty. “You were saying?”
“I was saying that-”
“Stevens, O’Malley,” Dr. Bailey barked as she walked over, the other interns behind her, “don’t you two have patients to be saving?”
“It’s completely dead-”
Cristina groaned. “She said it.”
“Twenty bucks says it’s a train wreck again,” Meredith said, turning her eyes away from George. What the hell had she been thinking?
“Thirty says shoot out,” Alex added.
“Can you be any more morbid?” Izzie asked, repulsed.
“Actually, yes.”
“If you’re done arguing like five year olds,” Dr. Bailey cut in. “We have patients.” She rushed over to a gurney. “What happened?”
“Shoot out at the Starbucks down the street. Two dead so far, twelve injured,” the paramedic said.
Dr. Bailey looked over at her interns. “Karev wins.”
Alex smirked.
“As winner, Karev, you get to go help Shepherd. Looks like he’s having trouble with his.” Dr. Bailey nodded towards Derek.
Alex stared sadly at the man with a foot long glass shard in his chest before hurrying over to his new patient.
“Kind of busy, Karev,” Derek said, struggling against the flailing patient.
“Bailey sent me over to help.”
Derek blinked. “Oh.”
“So who is he?” Alex asked. The gender was about all he could identify from the man. He was completely covered in blood, some probably not even his.
Derek frowned. “The shooter.”
“He get himself shot?”
Derek nodded. “Off-duty cop was two shops down. Heard the shots.”
“Do we know anything about him?”
“Dilaudid addict. Mid-fifties. You may remember him. Jerry Frost.”
Alex stiffened. “I remember him.” Yeah, he remembered Jerry. The painkiller addict that bashed his head when Izzie went to call Psych during his discharge. He blew his left pupil and caused a subdural bleed and a midline shift. He’d told Izzie and Shepherd about his dad during Jerry’s surgery. “Guess the accident didn’t pull him from the hole.”
“Apparently not,” Derek replied as they secured Jerry into the restraints. Like Alex remembered Jerry, Derek remembered Alex’s comment and confession. He never found out anymore after that-not that he’d tried to-and until today, the conversation had slipped his mind, only to resurface when they had a patient like dear ol’ Jerry.
“Just one! One hit of Dilaudid,” Jerry begged, “or Demerol!”
Neither Derek nor Alex said anything. Right now, they needed to focus on stopping the bleeding, getting the bullets out, and making sure they didn’t do any damage-not necessarily in that order, because if they got them out and found out they should have stayed in, that’d be bad. Jerry would get his painkillers when he was stable.
“Where did the bullet go in?” Alex asked.
“Bullets,” Derek corrected. “Two in his abdomen, one in his right arm. The officer was trying to slow him down.”
Alex nodded, looking at Jerry’s restrained arm. “The bullet went straight through. Most likely went through the bone.”
“We’ll schedule an x-ray once the bleeding’s under control.”
Alex worked with Derek almost like he was on autopilot. The last time Jerry was there, he’d brought up a lot of memories, none of them good. Memories of his dad, his addiction, the heroin, the abuse; all of it. He’d hidden it fairly well from his coworkers, but he knew that out of Izzie and Derek, Izzie was the most interested. Derek wouldn’t pry until it interfered with his-Alex’s-work, but Izzie…she knew the most out of any of the interns, probably more than any of them minus the Chief-Alex figured he’d read his file at one point during his time at Seattle Grace.
It was in the OR that Alex finally snapped back to reality. A continuous beep echoed in his head as Jerry coded.
“Charge to 200,” Derek ordered, preparing the paddles. “Clear!”
Nothing.
“Charge to 300! Clear!”
Nothing.
“300 again! Clear!”
Nothing.
Derek pumped Jerry’s chest for a couple minutes before stopping and sighing. “Time of death, 12:38.”
Alex stood frozen. Jerry was dead. Jerry who reminded him so much of his father-and not in a good way-was dead.
Jerry was so much like his dad. Addicted. Desperate. It scared Alex to think about the life his father was probably living, if he was even still alive.
Alex shook his head. God, he needed to stop thinking about this. It wasn’t helping anyone. If he kept thinking about it, he’d get distracted and end up killing a patient.
“Karev,” Derek called. “I’ve got another surgery in ten minutes. Brain cancer patient with six tumors. You want in?”
“Six?” Alex echoed, incredulous.
“Six,” Derek confirmed. “So?”
“I’m in.”
“Good.”
---
Later that night, George lay on the couch, utterly exhausted. Two of his patients from the shootout had died and another three were still in critical condition. He’d heard about Alex’s patient; everyone had. Word of an old patient returning over a year later and dying had spread fast. Especially since a lot remembered Derek yelling at Alex for not starting the central line in the painkiller addict.
Alex hadn’t spoken much when they got home. A silent dinner, no playful banter. Had George not known about Jerry Frost, he would have thought he’d done something to piss Alex off.
George rolled over, his arm tucked underneath his head. He’d talk to Alex about it in the morning, make sure he was okay.
---
Asleep in his bed, Alex turned onto his back while his head thrashed to the side. He moaned.
Alex remembered this. His dad had been more out of it than he had ever seen him. He’d been high and really angry. Alex still didn’t know for sure what had made his dad so mad, but he guessed a gig had gone bad.
He’d been playing with his new Gameboy when his father had stormed into the house. His father had thrown his guitar to the side and had grabbed Alex by his neck, lifting the eleven year old from the ground.
He whimpered.
“Oh, shut up,” his father snapped, voice slurring. Great, he was drunk too. “Just close your God damn mouth for five minutes.”
Alex could only choke back a gasp as air escaped his lungs. His father had done this before. Soon, his vision would blur and he’d black out.
Kenneth Karev sneered at his son, tossing the small form to the side and into the glass coffee table.
Alex cried out.
---
Alex’s cry pried George from his sleep. At first, he wasn’t sure what it was, thinking he’d imagined it, but as another reached his ears, George sprang from the couch. He narrowly missed a rolling Steve-did that thing ever sleep?-as he went towards Alex’s room.
George pushed the door open, eyes instantly falling on a thrashing Alex. He stood still and stared for a minute before he moved forward. Leaning over Alex’s unsettled form, he shook the other man’s shoulder. “Alex.”
No answer other than a whimper.
“Alex, come on. Wake up,” George said, almost pleading as he shook Alex a bit harder. It was kind of scary. Alex was one of the two rocks in their group-Cristina being the other-but right now…he just looked vulnerable. His face was screwed up in pain and completely drenched in a cold sweat. “Alex!”
Alex’s eyes shot open and he snapped into a sitting position, breathing heavily.
“Are you okay?”
Alex didn’t seem to hear him as he raised his knees to his chest. He swallowed a few times, every time sounding thicker than the last and his shoulders began to shake.
He knew George was there. He’d heard George trying to wake him. But honestly? If he pretended he hadn’t noticed George, then he could at least save himself a little dignity. Alex wasn’t a fool. He knew he was going to break down. He always did after that dream-no; that memory.
He’d told that Scott kid that he wished he hadn’t fought his dad and made him leave because he wished they could have worked it out, but he knew that wouldn’t have happened. His father was too far gone from the drugs. Completely dependent and completely lost in the drug’s haze.
But even though he knew that, the childish part of him wanted his father clean from drugs and back in his life. Only problem was that Alex knew that’d never happen. He’d known since that night when his father had come home high and drunk, when he’d nearly beaten him to death.
After that, Kenneth had been sentenced to five years in jail. When he’d come home, Kenneth had sworn he was clean, that it would all be better.
He’d lied.
The drugs and abuse had started all over again, the only difference being that this time, he was more careful with where he hit-how he did that completely stoned, Alex never knew, but he never hit a place where clothes wouldn’t cover the marks.
Alex still carried the scars from that night. Small white lines littered the back of his body from where the glass had splintered and punctured his skin. The most obvious one was the deepest one. A scar two inches long and a few centimeters wide lay on his side. It had been a large shard that had done it. It’d broken and when his father kicked him, had stabbed into his side, just below the right side of his ribcage.
Tears began to slip past his eyes and as Alex hid his face in his knees, he could feel George put a tentative hand on his shoulder. George had no idea what to do, Alex knew that. None of the interns had seen Alex really open up, much less break down and when a rock crumbles, most people run. Honestly, Alex was surprised that George was still there.
Maybe he finally had someone he could really count on.
---
George lowered himself to sit beside Alex on the bed, his hand slowly running up and down Alex’s arm. He bit his lip when Alex began to sob and let his hand drift from Alex’s arm and wrap around him. Not a word passed George’s lips as he held onto Alex and his shirt became soaked with tears.
When he’d moved in, George had known he was entering the unknown. He barely knew Alex…actually…he didn’t know him at all. All he had known was the façade that Alex had shown to his coworkers. The real Alex Karev had hidden himself inside this apartment with Steve, never to see a living soul until George had begun sleeping on the couch.
George had expected Alex to reach his breaking point during his stay, but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected this. He’d expected screaming, punches; some kind of fight. Not this. Not Alex crying in his arms.
Although he hadn’t said what it was, George had a fair idea about what had caused Alex to break. Izzie had told him about what Alex had said during Jerry’s surgery and Scottie. He’d never told Alex that he knew about his father, he didn’t feel like it was his place. Alex and he weren’t really friends, at least not at the time and he hadn’t had a reason to know. Alex had trusted Izzie with that truth and she hadn’t kept the secret. Not that he could really blame her, it was a lot to take in.
George knew it’d be pointless to tell Alex that it would be okay. It wouldn’t. Alex would live with the memory-he was guessing it was a memory-of what he’d dreamed forever. As much as you wish it were possible, you can’t run from your past. It’ll follow you everywhere. It made you who you are.
So with nothing to say, George just sat on the bed, silently letting Alex know that he was there and that he cared.
---
Neither knew how much later it was when Alex finally pulled away, wiping his cheeks clean of tears. He kept his eyes downcast, ashamed. “Sorry.”
George shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he reassured. “So you cried. I do, too. Heck, I bet Steve has.”
Alex cracked a small smirk. “Steve’s a rat.”
“So? Rats can cry, too, can’t they?”
“I doubt it.”
“I don’t.”
Alex looked at George with red rimmed eyes. “You’re weird.”
George smiled softly. “You are, too.”
Alex returned the smile, the curve so small that George almost didn’t see it. “Good.”
---
That Sunday as George and Alex sat in front of the television, they lost themselves in their thoughts. It had been happening a lot since that night in Alex’s room. It was almost as if seeing Alex during a time of vulnerability had opened another door for whatever was growing between them.
George sat back on the couch, sending a short glance at Alex. So many things had changed since he’d moved in. He’d seen the real Al-he was really saying that too much, but it was true. But he’d also seen a caring, funny, rat owning Alex. God, he still couldn’t believe Alex owned a rat. The guy works in a hospital and he owns a rat. He was seriously beginning to wonder if Alex forgot that House was just a TV show and that just because Gregory House owned one…okay, he was getting off subject.
Really though, George didn’t know what he and Alex were right now. Were they acquaintances? No, they were more than that. Roommates? Sure. Friends? Maybe. More?
George shook his head. More? What the hell am I thinking? Alex and I more than friends? His gaze turned back to Alex. Maybe it wasn’t so crazy. It wouldn’t have been the first time he was with a man. He’d had a boyfriend in high school. And Alex…he wasn’t ugly and he had seen more of Alex’s true character than he had of any of his other girl or boyfriends.
He’d gotten to know Alex, but it felt like he still had so much more to learn. Was he crazy to think that maybe he could learn it and be with Alex?
---
Alex kept his eyes straight ahead as he too lost himself in his thoughts. He had to admit, since George had moved in, Alex had found he liked coming home more than he had before. Don’t get him wrong, Steve was fun, but you can only talk to a rat for so long before you begin to question your sanity.
He’d been surprised after the night in his bedroom. He’d been expecting it to be awkward, but it really wasn’t. George hadn’t run and he had basically laughed off Alex’s embarrassment.
Alex had always hated crying in public. It made him feel like he was forcing people to try and help him even when he didn’t want the help. But when George had comforted him, he hadn’t hated it. For once it had felt like someone gave a crap about how he felt.
He’d told George about his dad the next day, why it affected him the way it did. George hadn’t told him to grow up or to get over it.
“I can’t say I know what you went through, because I don’t. I didn’t have that life. But I can say that the next time that you need to let out what you’re feeling, I’m gonna be there. It sucks having to cry alone and that just makes you cry more. So basically, you’re stuck with me.”
And strangely enough, Alex hadn’t hated the thought of being stuck with George. He had a feeling he’d like it, being with George.
Alex bit back a snort. Being with George. Makes it sound like he’s my boyfriend.
It wouldn’t have been that weird. Alex had known he was bisexual for a while. He just hadn’t really done anything about it. He’d figured it out in high school, but with his dad and the homophobic assholes in his school, he’d been apprehensive about moving forward. He would have in college, but contrary to popular belief, he’d been focused on his studies. The only reason he’d failed his medical boards was because he’d been sick and annoyed. It really hadn’t helped his bedside manner.
Alex exhaled harshly through his nose. Yeah, he could imagine being with George and he could wish, but it wouldn’t be real. As far as he knew, George was straight-they really hadn’t gotten around to the conversation of sexual orientation-and totally in love with Meredith.
George coughed, standing. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want anything?”
Alex shook his head. “I’m good.”
George nodded, stepping around the blankets he’s folded on the floor. He avoided those, but had completely missed Steve and his ever present ball. George stumbled frantically, falling on top of Alex.
His and Alex’s lips crashed against each other.
They both closed their eyes for a split second before springing apart. Their eyes stayed connected for a moment before they both leaned back in and met for another kiss, a real kiss. No words needed to be spoken. It was in their eyes.
They’d really need to thank Steve once they came up for air.
The End.
Pairing: George/Alex
Word Count: 6,341
Rating: PG-13
Notes: A mix of all three prompts, but mostly the phrase ("You learn to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh, but you can never truly love someone until you find out what makes them cry").
Status: Complete
Summary: After the Meredith fiasco, George found himself taking up residence at Alex's apartment. At first a place of convenience, now it's becoming a place George will be proud to call home.
Seattle Grace Hospital
“George, come on! You can’t be serious!” Izzie begged, following George down the halls of the hospital. “You can’t move out!”
“I’m not staying there!” George snapped back, storming into an empty stairwell. “She cried, Izzie. I told her I loved her, we had sex, and she cried. I’m not going back there.”
Izzie bit her lip, knowing that Meredith had really hurt George, but what was she supposed to do? She was their roommate. She couldn’t turn back time. George was her best friend. If he moved out, they’d grow apart. “Where would you go?”
“Anything’s better than there, Izzie,” George said, instantly regretting it when he saw the hurt look on Izzie’s face. “Iz, I didn’t mean-”
“Forget it.” Izzie sent George a final look before turning her back and leaving.
Now alone, George muttered under his breath, running his hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant to say that. He just couldn’t face Meredith. He had wanted to be that man for her and he couldn’t be. It wasn’t Izzie’s fault. “Great,” he muttered.
---
Alex looked up from his book as George sullenly walked into the hallway and fell onto a bed. “You look like you’ve just been condemned to death.”
“Shut up,” George mumbled tiredly.
“So you slept with Meredith-”
George sprang up in the bed. “You know?!”
Alex shrugged. “Yeah. So? S’not like I’m gonna broadcast it. I’m an ass, but not that…okay, I am. But I’m not going to.” Quickly finishing his paragraph, he glanced at George. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” George grumbled. “How’d you find out anyway?”
“I’m more observant than you think. How do you think I figured out the valedictorian in my high school was sleeping with the principal? There are signs. You just have to pay attention.”
George blinked. “Are you serious?
“About what? The high school thing or me noticing?”
“Both.”
Alex chuckled. “Completely.” Returning his eyes back to his book, he could hear the sheets crinkle as George lay back down. Snatching the pen cap between his teeth, Alex quickly scrawled something into the margin of the book.
“She cried.”
Alex stared at George. “What?”
“We were having sex and she cried.” George shook his head without raising it from the pillow. “Why am I even telling you this?”
“Because this hospital has driven you nuts?”
George snorted softly. “Probably.”
Alex lips quirked into a smirk right before his beeper went off. His eyes flew to the screen and he groaned. “911. I gotta go.” He jumped off the bed, stopping for a moment and turning back to George. “Look, I’ve got a foldout couch. If you want, you can use it.” He shrugged. “At least until you grow a pair.” Without waiting for a reply, Alex turned and rushed off to his dying patient.
George stared at the spot Alex had been standing before his eyes rose to the ceiling. “Did he just invite me to live with him?”
---
Now free from his shift and shrugging on his jacket, George glanced over at Alex from behind the cover of his locker. He’d offered him his couch. He was Alex ‘Evil Spawn’ Karev. Why the hell would he offer him a place to stay?
George shook his head, closing his locker. He walked over to Alex, thankful that the locker room was relatively empty. “Okay, so assuming you weren’t abducted by pod people when you made the offer, I’d appreciate the couch.”
Alex blinked. He’d caught what George had said, but really, when had Bambi learned to talk that fast? “What were you in high school? On the Debate Team?”
George blushed. “Maybe.”
Alex chuckled, slamming his locker shut and tossing a backpack over his shoulder. It looked heavy. “And, yeah. The offer’s still open.” He nodded towards the door. “Ready?”
George nodded. “Thanks.”
“Whatever, Bambi.” Alex paused halfway out the door. “How fast can you run?”
Aw, crap.
---
“It was bad enough thinking you ran,” George panted as he ran after Alex, water splashing against his feet. He hopped over a particularly deep puddle, mentally cursing all the rain Seattle got.
“It’s your own fault,” Alex mocked, turning backwards as his roller blades glided over the concrete. “I said we could take the bus, but you said no.”
“I didn’t realize you lived so far from the hospital!”
“Far? It’s only ten blocks.”
“Only?!” George sputtered.
Alex turned forwards, making a small jump over a pot hole he’d encountered a lot since moving to Seattle. He shrugged, not really getting the point of George’s shock. “We’ve been here what? Six months? You get used to it.”
George gasped, half from lack of oxygen, half from disbelief. “You do this daily?!”
Alex nodded.
“You’re crazy,” George wheezed. He hadn’t run like this since high school.
Alex shook his head, skidding to a stop beside a bench. He heard George pant out a thanks as he collapsed into the wood. Staying silent while George struggled to catch his breath, he made a few complicated turns and spins.
Glancing at George, Alex shook his head and sat next to panting brunette. He swung his backpack onto his lap, pulling out his sneakers.
“What are you doing?” George asked hoarsely.
“We just got off a thirty-six hour shift. I’m not going back because you had a heart attack,” Alex replied, pulling his roller blades from his feet and slipping on his shoes.
Figuring it was Alex’s way of saying that he cared about his coworker’s health, George nodded, knowing that if he said ‘thanks’ one more time, Alex would probably slap him. Finally feeling his breathing even out, George swallowed, pushing himself from the bench. “Okay, let’s go.”
---
Alex’s apartment definitely wasn’t what George had expected. He’d expected a mess, Playboy posters, the thong some hooker left behind; anything that would reflect the Alex everyone saw at the hospital. But this? It was like this Alex and that Alex were two different people. It was creepy.
Rolling his eyes at George’s obvious shock, Alex shrugged off his jacket. “I’m gonna jump in the shower. Feel free to look around.”
George nodded slowly, not really paying attention. He vaguely heard a door close and water turning on as he dropped his backpack beside the couch. Figuring he may as well get the lay of the land, George circled around the large living room.
Beige paint covered the walls and a set of French style doors led to a small but comfortable balcony that gave a nice view of the bay. George guessed Alex didn’t get to use it much what with all the rain and his hours at the hospital. Turning away from the doors, George looked around, spotting a large bookshelf full of medical texts, books, and pictures. A long black leather couch sat in the middle of the room with a flat screen television mounted on the wall.
From there, George could clearly see the kitchen through the in-room window. It looked to be around medium size with the table and chairs shoved into the corner. A hallway was located beside the kitchen entrance. To his immediate left, there was a door, most likely to the bathroom-he could hear the water running. Another door was at the end of the hall.
“S’gotta be his bedroom,” George mumbled. He shuffled his feet, trying to decide if he was overstepping his boundaries by going in.
“Feel free to look around.”
“I’ll see it eventually,” George shrugged, turning back to the living room. He stopped, staring at the strangely clean room. George pivoted, going straight down the hall. “Please be a mess,” he pleaded. In just one day, he’d seen a rude yet caring Alex Karev and now an Alex that kept his apartment clean? It was just getting too weird, almost like the Alex they knew was a fake. How much was Alex hiding?
George pushed the door open, his eyes falling on the dark blue walls and queen size bed blanketed in black. A large dresser sat beside the French windows, letting the light stream in over the bed. Again, like in the living room, there was a set of double doors that led to another balcony.
He stood in the middle of the room, staring out the glass doors until something hit his foot. Looking down, George saw a small purple ball lying against his shoe. He bent down, picking it up and raising it to his face.
He screamed.
---
Alex was washing the conditioner from his hair when he heard George scream. Now, many people think he would have left it alone, left George to whatever had scared him, but Alex was just a big bag of surprises today.
Throwing the shower’s sliding door open and grabbing his towel, Alex jumped from the shower. He tightened as best he could in the rush and shot from the bathroom.
Alex could clearly see down the hall and after noticing that the living room was empty, ran for his bedroom. He barged in. “What is it?!”
“Rat!”
Alex blinked. “The…” he trailed off as he dissolved into laughter. Alex’s arms instinctively went around his stomach, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly that his eye lashes were beginning to glimmer. “You’re afraid of rats?” he gasped out.
“They’re gross!” George jumped onto the bed as the rat scurried by his feet. When his eyes had fallen on the rat, he’d dropped the ball and it had broken open when it hit the ground.
Alex laughed harder, the glimmer on his lashes joining and falling down his face. They were followed by another and another as his knees buckled.
“Stop laughing!”
“Can’t! Too…funny!”
George glared, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Alex. “Ass,” he grumbled.
“Duh.” Alex leaned forward, still laughing softly, picking up the rat and patting its head. “You can get off my bed now.”
George got off the slowly, edging towards Alex and it. “You have a rat?”
Alex nodded. He pushed the rat into George’s face, making the shorter man jump. “Steve, meet Bambi. Bambi, meet Steve McQueen.”
George blinked. “You named him after the rat on House MD?”
“…No…”
“You just keep getting weirder today, huh?”
Alex pet Steve’s gray fur, not bothering to answer. “You wanna hold him? He won’t bite unless you’re Yang.”
“You trained him, didn’t you?” George asked, slowly taking Steve into his hands. He had to live with the thing. Might as well get used to it. With those little beady eyes, and the twitchy nose, and-ugh, he had to stop.
“Does that even need an answer?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” Alex shifted his weight onto his left leg as an old knee injury began to bother him. “I need to get dressed.”
“Okay.”
Alex waited a moment. “So you have two choices,” he said. “One, you can go take your shower. Or two, you can stay in here and drop your pants, because if you are, I’m not being the only naked one.”
George’s face flushed. “I’ll…uh…bye.” He dashed from the room.
Alex shook his head at the now closed door. He went to his dresser, sidestepping Steve’s ball, and pulled out his clothes, tossing them on the bed. Alex dropped his towel, leaning over and grabbing his box-
George opened the door. “Sorry. I forgot to-” His eyes widened and he spun around, eyes now directed at the sand colored carpet.
Alex pulled his boxers on quickly, a small blush gracing his face. George isn’t in his house for an hour and he’s seen him naked faster than Izzie…God, he felt like a man whore. Usually he wouldn’t mind. He’d had one night stands too many times to count in his life. But this was George. A man, a coworker, Bambi. That just wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just too weird. “What?”
“I, uh, I forgot to give you back Steve.” George raised his arm to show the squirming rat.
Alex rolled his eyes-mostly out of instinct since George couldn’t see him-and picked up the broken ball. After quickly making sure it still connected okay-it did-he walked up behind George, reaching around him to get Steve, whom George was now holding firmly to his chest. Not that Alex blamed him. When Steve got squirmy, he had to do the same thing to make sure he didn’t get loose. “I got him.”
George jumped slightly when Alex reached around his arm-still wet from the shower-catching slightly against his t-shirt. He stiffened. “I’m gonna go shower.”
Alex dropped Steve back into his ball, backing up a step so he could lower it to the floor without his face becoming friends with George’s ass. He straightened, watching for a second as Steve began to scamper around the room. “Towels are under the sink.”
“Tha-”
“Say ‘thanks’ one more time and I’ll kick your ass.”
“Duly noted.”
Alex shut the door as George left, chuckling. This was definitely going to be interesting.
---
George sat on the couch, sinking to the comfortable leather and beginning to doze off as Alex plopped down next to him. He startled awake.
“Dude, you jumped a foot.”
“Ass.”
“I thought we established that already.”
“We did. I just wanted to remind you,” George said. Okay, this was weird. They were bickering like friends. Way too weird.
“You hungry?”
“You cook?”
“Do I look like I have a cook?”
“No,” George admitted. “But you don’t look like you know how to cook either.”
“Well, you look more like a kicked puppy than a doctor, so it evens out.”
George sunk in his spot. “You irritate me.”
Alex shrugged. “I do that to a lot of people.”
“Oh, I know.”
Alex chuckled. “So are you?”
George nodded.
Pushing himself up from the couch, Alex straightened his old Iowa State t-shirt-damn, the thing was getting tight-and glanced back at George. “Anything specific?”
“As long as it isn’t moving, I’m good.”
“Okay, so no mutant sushi.”
George shook his head. “Weirder by the second,” he joked in a singsong voice.
Alex smirked. “You know it.”
---
Now sitting across from Alex at the taller intern’s small table, George raised his eyebrows and swallowed. “You can actually cook.”
“I told you I could.”
“You think I believed you?”
“You did eat it.”
“Good point.”
Alex shook his head, chuckling and stuffed another piece of baked ziti into his mouth. He hadn’t told anyone, but he’d minored in culinary in college before he moved onto med school. It was his fallback if medicine didn’t work out. But that in no way meant he wasn’t going to work his ass off at Seattle Grace.
“Why don’t you laugh?” George blurted out. It had been bugging him all day.
Alex looked at George, confused. “I do laugh. I laugh at you daily.”
George shook his head. “You don’t laugh. You chuckle.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No,” George continued. “The only time I’ve seen you flat out laugh was in your bedroom.”
“Who wouldn’t laugh at that? You were on the bed, screaming like a girl.”
“I was not!”
“Yeah, you were.”
George glared at Alex lightly. “Was not,” he grumbled.
Glad that he’d weaseled the topic off himself, Alex dropped some more grated cheese onto his dinner. “I’m surprised you knew who Steve McQueen was. I took you more for a CW viewer. Not FOX.”
“I don’t watch it much,” George admitted. “I’ve only seen it in passing. I can’t remember any of the characters names except for the rats.”
“Because Steve is amazing,” Alex said as if it were obvious. He blinked. “Wait. You don’t remember House? How do you not remember House?”
“I remember House,” George defended. “Remember? I knew the show’s title.”
Alex hit his forehead and shook his head. “We have a lot of work to do.”
---
“She had a tapeworm,” George said, amazed, “Do you know how rare it is to have one in your brain?”
“I am a doctor,” Alex said, groggy. He turned his head, trying to mask a yawn.
No such luck.
“We probably should go to bed,” George suggested. “Early day tomorrow.”
Alex nodded. “Let me get the extra sheets.” He stood from the couch, cursing as his knee buckled and he stumbled.
George sat straight. “You okay?”
“Fine. Leg fell asleep,” Alex lied.
George stared at Alex uncertainly for a minute before nodding. He could have sworn he’d seen pain flash across Alex’s face.
After he was sure George wasn’t going to question him, Alex straightened and made the short walk to the closet. He tossed the blankets at George, smirking when the shorter man tried to dodge and fell off the couch.
“Night.”
Alex nodded his goodnight and walked into his room.
---
Alex woke up the next morning to the sound of Hugh Laurie’s voice blaring through the apartment and George cursing. Climbing off the bed tiredly, Alex nudged Steve’s ball out of his way and left the room. “Mind telling me why you’re waking me up at,” he glanced at the clock, “six in the morning? On my day off, no less?”
George blushed, fumbling with the remote. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went in the kitchen for a drink and I found cake mix.”
Alex blinked slowly. “You found cake mix?”
George nodded. “I saw it and…I just started baking. I blame Izzie.”
“She gave you the baking bug.”
“Hence why I’m gonna kill her.”
Alex looked thoughtful for a moment. “So you wanna tell me why House was blasting through my apartment?”
George fidgeted. “It was too quiet and I needed something to watch. I tried to turn it down-”
“And failed.”
George glowered. “Your surround sound button is to close to the stupid volume control.”
“Uh-huh. Blame the remote.”
The timer dinged.
“Your cake is done.”
“I didn’t make a cake,” George said, ducking into the kitchen.
Alex’s eyebrow rose questioningly. Then what the hell did he bake? He followed George into the kitchen, his jaw dropping the second he saw the table. He burst into laughter again.
Alex’s table was virtually gone and in its place was a mountain of cupcakes. Red cupcakes. It was-
Wait a second.
“I only had two boxes. How in the hell did you make this many? There must be-”
“Seventy-eight.”
“What the fuck?”
George ducked his head. “So Izzie taught me a few things.”
“Apparently.” Alex stared at the table for a moment. “I thought all I had was vanilla frosting,” he said, confused.
“You did. I found food coloring.”
“So you made it red because…?”
“Red is more fun.”
Alex nodded. And he says I’m weird. He silently decided not to mention that red was the hair color of the woman who had started this whole mess.
“You want one?”
“There are seventy-eight cupcakes sitting on my kitchen table.” Alex laughed so softly that George barely heard it. “Dude, of course I want one.”
---
Six hours and twenty-odd cupcakes later, Alex and George sat in front of the television once again, laughing at House’s antics.
Alex shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth, shutting off the TV. “So I guess you liked it?”
“Oh, yeah.” George paused. “I got you to laugh again. Earlier in the kitchen, you laughed.”
“You didn’t make me laugh,” Alex said tossing the wrapper at George’s head. Must he keep going back to that topic? “The cupcakes did.”
“Ah, but I made the cupcakes.”
“I’ll give you that.”
George smiled.
---
Two days later, now that the shock of George and Alex living together had worn off, work was somewhat normal. Alex was still being an ass-George was beginning to suspect Multiple Personality Disorder. George was still avoiding Meredith. Izzie was trying to get George to come home. And Cristina…Cristina was just being Cristina.
Surprisingly, living with Alex wasn’t all that bad. Yeah, he still made fun of George, but it was more playful than anything. It was almost like they were becoming friends. Even if it was only when they were out of work.
But even though the living situation wasn’t bad, George still felt like he was out of the loop on something. He wasn’t sure what since there wasn’t any proof, but something in his gut was telling him all was not well. But he had to be honest. Before moving in with Alex, George had never realized how guarded the other man was when he was at work. At home…Alex was like a male Lorelai Gilmore-"Izzie made me watch it!"
“…okay?”
George snapped his head up. “Huh?”
Izzie sighed, frustrated. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
“Sorry,” George said, guilty. “You were saying?”
“I was saying that-”
“Stevens, O’Malley,” Dr. Bailey barked as she walked over, the other interns behind her, “don’t you two have patients to be saving?”
“It’s completely dead-”
Cristina groaned. “She said it.”
“Twenty bucks says it’s a train wreck again,” Meredith said, turning her eyes away from George. What the hell had she been thinking?
“Thirty says shoot out,” Alex added.
“Can you be any more morbid?” Izzie asked, repulsed.
“Actually, yes.”
“If you’re done arguing like five year olds,” Dr. Bailey cut in. “We have patients.” She rushed over to a gurney. “What happened?”
“Shoot out at the Starbucks down the street. Two dead so far, twelve injured,” the paramedic said.
Dr. Bailey looked over at her interns. “Karev wins.”
Alex smirked.
“As winner, Karev, you get to go help Shepherd. Looks like he’s having trouble with his.” Dr. Bailey nodded towards Derek.
Alex stared sadly at the man with a foot long glass shard in his chest before hurrying over to his new patient.
“Kind of busy, Karev,” Derek said, struggling against the flailing patient.
“Bailey sent me over to help.”
Derek blinked. “Oh.”
“So who is he?” Alex asked. The gender was about all he could identify from the man. He was completely covered in blood, some probably not even his.
Derek frowned. “The shooter.”
“He get himself shot?”
Derek nodded. “Off-duty cop was two shops down. Heard the shots.”
“Do we know anything about him?”
“Dilaudid addict. Mid-fifties. You may remember him. Jerry Frost.”
Alex stiffened. “I remember him.” Yeah, he remembered Jerry. The painkiller addict that bashed his head when Izzie went to call Psych during his discharge. He blew his left pupil and caused a subdural bleed and a midline shift. He’d told Izzie and Shepherd about his dad during Jerry’s surgery. “Guess the accident didn’t pull him from the hole.”
“Apparently not,” Derek replied as they secured Jerry into the restraints. Like Alex remembered Jerry, Derek remembered Alex’s comment and confession. He never found out anymore after that-not that he’d tried to-and until today, the conversation had slipped his mind, only to resurface when they had a patient like dear ol’ Jerry.
“Just one! One hit of Dilaudid,” Jerry begged, “or Demerol!”
Neither Derek nor Alex said anything. Right now, they needed to focus on stopping the bleeding, getting the bullets out, and making sure they didn’t do any damage-not necessarily in that order, because if they got them out and found out they should have stayed in, that’d be bad. Jerry would get his painkillers when he was stable.
“Where did the bullet go in?” Alex asked.
“Bullets,” Derek corrected. “Two in his abdomen, one in his right arm. The officer was trying to slow him down.”
Alex nodded, looking at Jerry’s restrained arm. “The bullet went straight through. Most likely went through the bone.”
“We’ll schedule an x-ray once the bleeding’s under control.”
Alex worked with Derek almost like he was on autopilot. The last time Jerry was there, he’d brought up a lot of memories, none of them good. Memories of his dad, his addiction, the heroin, the abuse; all of it. He’d hidden it fairly well from his coworkers, but he knew that out of Izzie and Derek, Izzie was the most interested. Derek wouldn’t pry until it interfered with his-Alex’s-work, but Izzie…she knew the most out of any of the interns, probably more than any of them minus the Chief-Alex figured he’d read his file at one point during his time at Seattle Grace.
It was in the OR that Alex finally snapped back to reality. A continuous beep echoed in his head as Jerry coded.
“Charge to 200,” Derek ordered, preparing the paddles. “Clear!”
Nothing.
“Charge to 300! Clear!”
Nothing.
“300 again! Clear!”
Nothing.
Derek pumped Jerry’s chest for a couple minutes before stopping and sighing. “Time of death, 12:38.”
Alex stood frozen. Jerry was dead. Jerry who reminded him so much of his father-and not in a good way-was dead.
Jerry was so much like his dad. Addicted. Desperate. It scared Alex to think about the life his father was probably living, if he was even still alive.
Alex shook his head. God, he needed to stop thinking about this. It wasn’t helping anyone. If he kept thinking about it, he’d get distracted and end up killing a patient.
“Karev,” Derek called. “I’ve got another surgery in ten minutes. Brain cancer patient with six tumors. You want in?”
“Six?” Alex echoed, incredulous.
“Six,” Derek confirmed. “So?”
“I’m in.”
“Good.”
---
Later that night, George lay on the couch, utterly exhausted. Two of his patients from the shootout had died and another three were still in critical condition. He’d heard about Alex’s patient; everyone had. Word of an old patient returning over a year later and dying had spread fast. Especially since a lot remembered Derek yelling at Alex for not starting the central line in the painkiller addict.
Alex hadn’t spoken much when they got home. A silent dinner, no playful banter. Had George not known about Jerry Frost, he would have thought he’d done something to piss Alex off.
George rolled over, his arm tucked underneath his head. He’d talk to Alex about it in the morning, make sure he was okay.
---
Asleep in his bed, Alex turned onto his back while his head thrashed to the side. He moaned.
Alex remembered this. His dad had been more out of it than he had ever seen him. He’d been high and really angry. Alex still didn’t know for sure what had made his dad so mad, but he guessed a gig had gone bad.
He’d been playing with his new Gameboy when his father had stormed into the house. His father had thrown his guitar to the side and had grabbed Alex by his neck, lifting the eleven year old from the ground.
He whimpered.
“Oh, shut up,” his father snapped, voice slurring. Great, he was drunk too. “Just close your God damn mouth for five minutes.”
Alex could only choke back a gasp as air escaped his lungs. His father had done this before. Soon, his vision would blur and he’d black out.
Kenneth Karev sneered at his son, tossing the small form to the side and into the glass coffee table.
Alex cried out.
---
Alex’s cry pried George from his sleep. At first, he wasn’t sure what it was, thinking he’d imagined it, but as another reached his ears, George sprang from the couch. He narrowly missed a rolling Steve-did that thing ever sleep?-as he went towards Alex’s room.
George pushed the door open, eyes instantly falling on a thrashing Alex. He stood still and stared for a minute before he moved forward. Leaning over Alex’s unsettled form, he shook the other man’s shoulder. “Alex.”
No answer other than a whimper.
“Alex, come on. Wake up,” George said, almost pleading as he shook Alex a bit harder. It was kind of scary. Alex was one of the two rocks in their group-Cristina being the other-but right now…he just looked vulnerable. His face was screwed up in pain and completely drenched in a cold sweat. “Alex!”
Alex’s eyes shot open and he snapped into a sitting position, breathing heavily.
“Are you okay?”
Alex didn’t seem to hear him as he raised his knees to his chest. He swallowed a few times, every time sounding thicker than the last and his shoulders began to shake.
He knew George was there. He’d heard George trying to wake him. But honestly? If he pretended he hadn’t noticed George, then he could at least save himself a little dignity. Alex wasn’t a fool. He knew he was going to break down. He always did after that dream-no; that memory.
He’d told that Scott kid that he wished he hadn’t fought his dad and made him leave because he wished they could have worked it out, but he knew that wouldn’t have happened. His father was too far gone from the drugs. Completely dependent and completely lost in the drug’s haze.
But even though he knew that, the childish part of him wanted his father clean from drugs and back in his life. Only problem was that Alex knew that’d never happen. He’d known since that night when his father had come home high and drunk, when he’d nearly beaten him to death.
After that, Kenneth had been sentenced to five years in jail. When he’d come home, Kenneth had sworn he was clean, that it would all be better.
He’d lied.
The drugs and abuse had started all over again, the only difference being that this time, he was more careful with where he hit-how he did that completely stoned, Alex never knew, but he never hit a place where clothes wouldn’t cover the marks.
Alex still carried the scars from that night. Small white lines littered the back of his body from where the glass had splintered and punctured his skin. The most obvious one was the deepest one. A scar two inches long and a few centimeters wide lay on his side. It had been a large shard that had done it. It’d broken and when his father kicked him, had stabbed into his side, just below the right side of his ribcage.
Tears began to slip past his eyes and as Alex hid his face in his knees, he could feel George put a tentative hand on his shoulder. George had no idea what to do, Alex knew that. None of the interns had seen Alex really open up, much less break down and when a rock crumbles, most people run. Honestly, Alex was surprised that George was still there.
Maybe he finally had someone he could really count on.
---
George lowered himself to sit beside Alex on the bed, his hand slowly running up and down Alex’s arm. He bit his lip when Alex began to sob and let his hand drift from Alex’s arm and wrap around him. Not a word passed George’s lips as he held onto Alex and his shirt became soaked with tears.
When he’d moved in, George had known he was entering the unknown. He barely knew Alex…actually…he didn’t know him at all. All he had known was the façade that Alex had shown to his coworkers. The real Alex Karev had hidden himself inside this apartment with Steve, never to see a living soul until George had begun sleeping on the couch.
George had expected Alex to reach his breaking point during his stay, but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected this. He’d expected screaming, punches; some kind of fight. Not this. Not Alex crying in his arms.
Although he hadn’t said what it was, George had a fair idea about what had caused Alex to break. Izzie had told him about what Alex had said during Jerry’s surgery and Scottie. He’d never told Alex that he knew about his father, he didn’t feel like it was his place. Alex and he weren’t really friends, at least not at the time and he hadn’t had a reason to know. Alex had trusted Izzie with that truth and she hadn’t kept the secret. Not that he could really blame her, it was a lot to take in.
George knew it’d be pointless to tell Alex that it would be okay. It wouldn’t. Alex would live with the memory-he was guessing it was a memory-of what he’d dreamed forever. As much as you wish it were possible, you can’t run from your past. It’ll follow you everywhere. It made you who you are.
So with nothing to say, George just sat on the bed, silently letting Alex know that he was there and that he cared.
---
Neither knew how much later it was when Alex finally pulled away, wiping his cheeks clean of tears. He kept his eyes downcast, ashamed. “Sorry.”
George shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he reassured. “So you cried. I do, too. Heck, I bet Steve has.”
Alex cracked a small smirk. “Steve’s a rat.”
“So? Rats can cry, too, can’t they?”
“I doubt it.”
“I don’t.”
Alex looked at George with red rimmed eyes. “You’re weird.”
George smiled softly. “You are, too.”
Alex returned the smile, the curve so small that George almost didn’t see it. “Good.”
---
That Sunday as George and Alex sat in front of the television, they lost themselves in their thoughts. It had been happening a lot since that night in Alex’s room. It was almost as if seeing Alex during a time of vulnerability had opened another door for whatever was growing between them.
George sat back on the couch, sending a short glance at Alex. So many things had changed since he’d moved in. He’d seen the real Al-he was really saying that too much, but it was true. But he’d also seen a caring, funny, rat owning Alex. God, he still couldn’t believe Alex owned a rat. The guy works in a hospital and he owns a rat. He was seriously beginning to wonder if Alex forgot that House was just a TV show and that just because Gregory House owned one…okay, he was getting off subject.
Really though, George didn’t know what he and Alex were right now. Were they acquaintances? No, they were more than that. Roommates? Sure. Friends? Maybe. More?
George shook his head. More? What the hell am I thinking? Alex and I more than friends? His gaze turned back to Alex. Maybe it wasn’t so crazy. It wouldn’t have been the first time he was with a man. He’d had a boyfriend in high school. And Alex…he wasn’t ugly and he had seen more of Alex’s true character than he had of any of his other girl or boyfriends.
He’d gotten to know Alex, but it felt like he still had so much more to learn. Was he crazy to think that maybe he could learn it and be with Alex?
---
Alex kept his eyes straight ahead as he too lost himself in his thoughts. He had to admit, since George had moved in, Alex had found he liked coming home more than he had before. Don’t get him wrong, Steve was fun, but you can only talk to a rat for so long before you begin to question your sanity.
He’d been surprised after the night in his bedroom. He’d been expecting it to be awkward, but it really wasn’t. George hadn’t run and he had basically laughed off Alex’s embarrassment.
Alex had always hated crying in public. It made him feel like he was forcing people to try and help him even when he didn’t want the help. But when George had comforted him, he hadn’t hated it. For once it had felt like someone gave a crap about how he felt.
He’d told George about his dad the next day, why it affected him the way it did. George hadn’t told him to grow up or to get over it.
“I can’t say I know what you went through, because I don’t. I didn’t have that life. But I can say that the next time that you need to let out what you’re feeling, I’m gonna be there. It sucks having to cry alone and that just makes you cry more. So basically, you’re stuck with me.”
And strangely enough, Alex hadn’t hated the thought of being stuck with George. He had a feeling he’d like it, being with George.
Alex bit back a snort. Being with George. Makes it sound like he’s my boyfriend.
It wouldn’t have been that weird. Alex had known he was bisexual for a while. He just hadn’t really done anything about it. He’d figured it out in high school, but with his dad and the homophobic assholes in his school, he’d been apprehensive about moving forward. He would have in college, but contrary to popular belief, he’d been focused on his studies. The only reason he’d failed his medical boards was because he’d been sick and annoyed. It really hadn’t helped his bedside manner.
Alex exhaled harshly through his nose. Yeah, he could imagine being with George and he could wish, but it wouldn’t be real. As far as he knew, George was straight-they really hadn’t gotten around to the conversation of sexual orientation-and totally in love with Meredith.
George coughed, standing. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want anything?”
Alex shook his head. “I’m good.”
George nodded, stepping around the blankets he’s folded on the floor. He avoided those, but had completely missed Steve and his ever present ball. George stumbled frantically, falling on top of Alex.
His and Alex’s lips crashed against each other.
They both closed their eyes for a split second before springing apart. Their eyes stayed connected for a moment before they both leaned back in and met for another kiss, a real kiss. No words needed to be spoken. It was in their eyes.
They’d really need to thank Steve once they came up for air.
The End.