Lost And Found -- Gex-fest 2008 (Round 1)
Title: Lost And Found
Pairing: George/Alex pre-slash
Word Count: 1,379
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Prompt #7: Set during "Freedom", season four finale: What happens when George is the one that's there for Alex after Ava's relapse?
Summary: Alex is lost in more ways than one.
PLEASE REVIEW!
Seattle
“George, have you seen Alex?”
Izzie had called him in a panic at two in the morning, asking that. She'd started rambling, a jumbled mess of words about Rebecca hurting herself, Alex's mom, and Alex crying and disappearing. Alex and him weren't even friends, sure a casual conversation here and there, but they weren't friends. So why did George run from his warm apartment with Lexie to go look for Alex in the pouring rain at two in the morning? Because he was George and he wasn't going to leave Alex out there alone.
So here he was an hour and a half later, soaked through to the bone with a flashlight clutched in one hand, the other cupped around his mouth, calling Alex's name. He'd looked everywhere he could think of, Joe's, the hospital, the park he'd seen Alex jog through once. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch.
Alex had disappeared.
George's cell phone sprang to life and he grabbed for it, part of him praying it was Alex, though the other knew it wasn't. “Hello?”
“Have you found him?” Meredith had been calling every half hour, the worry in her voice growing each time. They were all looking for Alex; him, Lexie, Izzie, Meredith, Derek, even Cristina. Izzie had been a mess when she called him, crying, saying that it was her fault, that if she hadn't gotten involved Alex would be at home right now. He'd been halfway down the block, Lexie beside him, before he'd thought to call Meredith, who had grabbed Derek, who had told her to call Cristina. They'd all split up within the first half hour, figuring they could cover more ground that way. Izzie had stayed at the house in case Alex came home.
“No.”
Meredith sighed. “Call me if you find him. I'm going to check in with Cristina and Derek.” She hung up after that, not waiting for any acknowledgment from George.
“Damn it!” he shouted, kicking a garbage can. Today was supposed to be a good day. Concrete Boy had lived and he was getting a second chance at his intern exam. It was supposed to be a good day. So why wasn't it?
George shook his head, trying to think of anything Alex may have said in the past to hint at where he'd be. What did he know about Alex? He was from Iowa.
Damn it. He was from Iowa? Was that all he knew about a guy he's worked with for a year and a half? Okay, okay, think, George.
1. Alex was from Iowa.
Come on, George. Think. Anything.
2. Alex gave him syphilis.
That's got nothing to do with this!
3. Alex had been able to smell the crystal meth on that baby from the explosion.
Wait...hadn't Izzie said something about Alex mentioning his dad had done drugs? And in her call she'd said something about Alex taking care of his mom like he had been with Rebecca. A drug addict father and a depressed mother doesn't make for the happiest childhood. He had to have had a hiding place as a kid, but where? Iowa was flat, most of it was farmland. Seattle didn't have that.
But it had woods.
Farmland was huge, owners had so much land, they wouldn't notice someone if the person knew where to hide. And face it, Alex could hide like a chameleon. But woods, completely untouched. For someone that must have spent ages hiding, the woods would be perfect. Trees and rocks to hide behind, and no one would go into the woods in weather like this.
But Seattle was huge. Where would Alex go? He spent so much time in the hospital, he probably didn't know Seattle like George did. George had grown up here, Alex hadn't. The only woods he could think of were the ones from the camping trip. The camping trip. That was it.
George did a jump as he began running toward Joe's. He needed a car.
---
The camp site wasn't far, a fifteen minute car ride followed by a ten minute walk, but whatever time he could save, George was going to. Alex had already been in this weather for almost two hours, maybe more since Izzie hadn't known right away. He sped onto the dirt road leading up to the site, the SUV taking a hard left and almost skidding in the mud. It took him ten minutes to reach the end of the road, and while he was grateful for the saved time, George knew Izzie would kill him if she found out how fast he'd gone in a storm.
George ran, ran over the bridge, ran into the woods. The weather was getting worse. The rain was beginning to pelt down hard, thunder was rumbling, and lightning was painting the sky.
George lost count of the times he slipped and fell into the mud, most times, not even registering it before he was up and running again. The flashlight was slippery in his grip, covered in mud so much that it was leaving splotches in his path, but he didn't stop to clear it. He fell once more, this time sliding just outside the camp site. Alex was in the middle of the clearing, a dark silhouette curled almost into a ball. George's steps were slow as he moved towards Alex, and he sat beside him once he could.
Lightening flashed up above them, the second flash giving George just enough time to see the puffiness of Alex's eyes and the red of his nose. He'd been crying.
Alex didn't acknowledge him, his legs still pulled up against his chest and his chin on his knees. George couldn't follow what it was Alex was staring at, but, to be honest, he didn't think Alex knew either.
“Hey.”
Alex didn't reply, not even blinking in response.
“Alex...” When he still didn't get a reply, George shifted closer to Alex, shoulders touching. Maybe it was the contact or maybe it was just time, but Alex's head dropped, face hidden from view as his body began to shake. And in that instance, George was taken back to when his father died and remembered how Callie had clung to him, crying herself, but still telling him that it was going to be okay. His arm rose, wrapping around Alex's shoulders and pulling him against his chest. If anything, Alex's shaking intensified, and George sat beside him, soaked and muddy, whispering, “Sh...”
He wasn't sure how long they sat there, he didn't care. Alex was the rock in their group. He'd seen Alex happy, annoyed, and severely pissed, but he'd never seen Alex...broken. It scared him. He'd thought Cristina was unbreakable, but she'd proved him wrong when Burke left. He'd thought Alex was made of steel, but George was wrong about that too. No one is unbreakable, he should have realized that. They all should have. They all had a chance to step up and make it clear to Alex that Rebecca needed help, but they waited until she cut her wrists. Alex had been breaking right along with her and they'd waited. Why the hell had they waited?
His cell sprang to life again and he reached for it, not moving his arm from around Alex. “Hello?”
“Anything?” Meredith was beginning to sound hysterical.
“I found him.”
“Oh, thank God. Is he okay?”
“Physically, yeah.” Alex was no where near okay mentally. He wasn't even in the same time zone. He would be, though. Alex just needed to realize that he could depend on them.
“Bring him home, okay?”
“We'll meet you there,” George said before hanging up, and returning his focus to Alex, “Ready to get out of here?”
Alex didn't reply, instead choosing to bury his face further into George's chest, but didn't fight it when George lifted Alex's chin and brought him to eye level. The image itself was enough to make his own eyes tear. Alex's entire face was pink, his eyes bloodshot. He looked crushed.
George rested his forehead against Alex's for a minute, closing his eyes, and breathing slow. He stood after that, pulling Alex up with him and grabbing the taller man when he stumbled.
It was time to go home.
The End
Pairing: George/Alex pre-slash
Word Count: 1,379
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Prompt #7: Set during "Freedom", season four finale: What happens when George is the one that's there for Alex after Ava's relapse?
Summary: Alex is lost in more ways than one.
PLEASE REVIEW!
Seattle
“George, have you seen Alex?”
Izzie had called him in a panic at two in the morning, asking that. She'd started rambling, a jumbled mess of words about Rebecca hurting herself, Alex's mom, and Alex crying and disappearing. Alex and him weren't even friends, sure a casual conversation here and there, but they weren't friends. So why did George run from his warm apartment with Lexie to go look for Alex in the pouring rain at two in the morning? Because he was George and he wasn't going to leave Alex out there alone.
So here he was an hour and a half later, soaked through to the bone with a flashlight clutched in one hand, the other cupped around his mouth, calling Alex's name. He'd looked everywhere he could think of, Joe's, the hospital, the park he'd seen Alex jog through once. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch.
Alex had disappeared.
George's cell phone sprang to life and he grabbed for it, part of him praying it was Alex, though the other knew it wasn't. “Hello?”
“Have you found him?” Meredith had been calling every half hour, the worry in her voice growing each time. They were all looking for Alex; him, Lexie, Izzie, Meredith, Derek, even Cristina. Izzie had been a mess when she called him, crying, saying that it was her fault, that if she hadn't gotten involved Alex would be at home right now. He'd been halfway down the block, Lexie beside him, before he'd thought to call Meredith, who had grabbed Derek, who had told her to call Cristina. They'd all split up within the first half hour, figuring they could cover more ground that way. Izzie had stayed at the house in case Alex came home.
“No.”
Meredith sighed. “Call me if you find him. I'm going to check in with Cristina and Derek.” She hung up after that, not waiting for any acknowledgment from George.
“Damn it!” he shouted, kicking a garbage can. Today was supposed to be a good day. Concrete Boy had lived and he was getting a second chance at his intern exam. It was supposed to be a good day. So why wasn't it?
George shook his head, trying to think of anything Alex may have said in the past to hint at where he'd be. What did he know about Alex? He was from Iowa.
Damn it. He was from Iowa? Was that all he knew about a guy he's worked with for a year and a half? Okay, okay, think, George.
1. Alex was from Iowa.
Come on, George. Think. Anything.
2. Alex gave him syphilis.
That's got nothing to do with this!
3. Alex had been able to smell the crystal meth on that baby from the explosion.
Wait...hadn't Izzie said something about Alex mentioning his dad had done drugs? And in her call she'd said something about Alex taking care of his mom like he had been with Rebecca. A drug addict father and a depressed mother doesn't make for the happiest childhood. He had to have had a hiding place as a kid, but where? Iowa was flat, most of it was farmland. Seattle didn't have that.
But it had woods.
Farmland was huge, owners had so much land, they wouldn't notice someone if the person knew where to hide. And face it, Alex could hide like a chameleon. But woods, completely untouched. For someone that must have spent ages hiding, the woods would be perfect. Trees and rocks to hide behind, and no one would go into the woods in weather like this.
But Seattle was huge. Where would Alex go? He spent so much time in the hospital, he probably didn't know Seattle like George did. George had grown up here, Alex hadn't. The only woods he could think of were the ones from the camping trip. The camping trip. That was it.
George did a jump as he began running toward Joe's. He needed a car.
---
The camp site wasn't far, a fifteen minute car ride followed by a ten minute walk, but whatever time he could save, George was going to. Alex had already been in this weather for almost two hours, maybe more since Izzie hadn't known right away. He sped onto the dirt road leading up to the site, the SUV taking a hard left and almost skidding in the mud. It took him ten minutes to reach the end of the road, and while he was grateful for the saved time, George knew Izzie would kill him if she found out how fast he'd gone in a storm.
George ran, ran over the bridge, ran into the woods. The weather was getting worse. The rain was beginning to pelt down hard, thunder was rumbling, and lightning was painting the sky.
George lost count of the times he slipped and fell into the mud, most times, not even registering it before he was up and running again. The flashlight was slippery in his grip, covered in mud so much that it was leaving splotches in his path, but he didn't stop to clear it. He fell once more, this time sliding just outside the camp site. Alex was in the middle of the clearing, a dark silhouette curled almost into a ball. George's steps were slow as he moved towards Alex, and he sat beside him once he could.
Lightening flashed up above them, the second flash giving George just enough time to see the puffiness of Alex's eyes and the red of his nose. He'd been crying.
Alex didn't acknowledge him, his legs still pulled up against his chest and his chin on his knees. George couldn't follow what it was Alex was staring at, but, to be honest, he didn't think Alex knew either.
“Hey.”
Alex didn't reply, not even blinking in response.
“Alex...” When he still didn't get a reply, George shifted closer to Alex, shoulders touching. Maybe it was the contact or maybe it was just time, but Alex's head dropped, face hidden from view as his body began to shake. And in that instance, George was taken back to when his father died and remembered how Callie had clung to him, crying herself, but still telling him that it was going to be okay. His arm rose, wrapping around Alex's shoulders and pulling him against his chest. If anything, Alex's shaking intensified, and George sat beside him, soaked and muddy, whispering, “Sh...”
He wasn't sure how long they sat there, he didn't care. Alex was the rock in their group. He'd seen Alex happy, annoyed, and severely pissed, but he'd never seen Alex...broken. It scared him. He'd thought Cristina was unbreakable, but she'd proved him wrong when Burke left. He'd thought Alex was made of steel, but George was wrong about that too. No one is unbreakable, he should have realized that. They all should have. They all had a chance to step up and make it clear to Alex that Rebecca needed help, but they waited until she cut her wrists. Alex had been breaking right along with her and they'd waited. Why the hell had they waited?
His cell sprang to life again and he reached for it, not moving his arm from around Alex. “Hello?”
“Anything?” Meredith was beginning to sound hysterical.
“I found him.”
“Oh, thank God. Is he okay?”
“Physically, yeah.” Alex was no where near okay mentally. He wasn't even in the same time zone. He would be, though. Alex just needed to realize that he could depend on them.
“Bring him home, okay?”
“We'll meet you there,” George said before hanging up, and returning his focus to Alex, “Ready to get out of here?”
Alex didn't reply, instead choosing to bury his face further into George's chest, but didn't fight it when George lifted Alex's chin and brought him to eye level. The image itself was enough to make his own eyes tear. Alex's entire face was pink, his eyes bloodshot. He looked crushed.
George rested his forehead against Alex's for a minute, closing his eyes, and breathing slow. He stood after that, pulling Alex up with him and grabbing the taller man when he stumbled.
It was time to go home.
The End