A/N This story contains spoilers for season 5. It was written just for fun. I don't own anything, ABC and Shonda do. Oh, and I most definitely didn't make money off of this. Here we go…
As I stand in front of Dr. Seussman's office waiting for my girlfriend to emerge, I wonder, as I have so many times in these past few weeks, why it is that I attract all the – and I say that with love - nutcases of this world. No disrespect to my family, but I'd sincerely hoped I'd left crazy behind the day I left my hometown. Apparently I was mistaken.
My run-in with the weird-and-strange had started up again a few months ago with Rebecca Pope. Sure, the girl had been traumatized, I get that. Found barely alive underneath a pole on a shipwreck, a new face to go along with a new identity, a husband from her former life that she supposedly wasn't in love with anymore. A child thrown somewhere into the equation. Now that woman had a right to go off the deep end. And even though it hurt for a while there, I eventually moved on.
With the help of Izzie Stevens. Now Izzie – to be completely honest, her turning into somewhat of a loony was the last thing I ever expected. Intelligent, smart, compassionate, kind, caring, gorgeous – yes. Completely irrational and distraught, on the brink of a nervous collapse over – I can't even say it… - a 'ghost'? A big, fat NO.
So when Izzie broke the news to me recently, after a lot of prodding and patience on my part, that not only did she think she was seeing dead Denny, but she was also interacting with him, had chats with him about everyday occurrences and had even made out with him on one occasion, I was stunned. In fact, not only was I stunned, I was completely blown away. Shocked into silence. Astonished, staggered, amazed, astounded and surprised. And most certainly dumbfounded. If you can think of any more synonyms for the before-mentioned adjectives, feel free to insert them here, as I cannot express with words alone how completely and utterly flabbergasted I was.
At first I thought (or at least had had the slight hope) that she was joking, but the hysterical break-down that followed led me to believe otherwise. So I did what I do best. Put my emotions to the side and try to take care of things. Not always successful in the outcome, though no one will ever be able to say that I didn't do my very best in the realm of my capabilities. It happened with my Mom. Happened again with Rebecca. And is happening with Izzie right at this moment. Which brings me to myself, standing in front of Dr. Seussman's office, waiting for my girlfriend to emerge.
My first thought after Izzie's revelation had been simple. 'Karev, you've done it again…turned another female close to you into a nutcase.' That was until I took a mental step back and began to realize that this incident had nothing to do with me (at least I couldn't fathom how it possibly could) and everything to do with unfinished business on Izzie's part – a lack of closure if you will, brought back into focus in form of a patient who had had his heart stolen out of his chest almost a year ago.
So in a novel attempt to be the better man, to be there for Izzie no matter how much it hurt that I was indeed competing with a corpse - a dead corpse, just to clarify - I didn't punish myself for a change. Instead, I tried to find a solution for a situation that, in all honesty, I had no idea how to deal with. Therapy was my only answer.
Now I don't fancy men in any way, shape or form, but even I have to admit (in the lonely moments where it's just me and my consciousness) that Denny had a certain appeal about him when he was still alive – a confident charisma that, I could imagine, women found hard to escape from. Apparently the same is true for dead Denny, which I cannot substantiate as I haven't had the pleasure yet. However, in my humble opinion that stems from lack of experience with the un-dead, no one should suffer what Izzie thinks she's going through right now, no matter the ex-hotness of the guy or gal they're pining for...Can you see now why I'm standing in front of Dr. Seussman's office? Yeah…I thought so.
When Izzie returns from her shrink's practice some time after her scheduled session has ended, she actually full-on smiles at me – a first. I take her hand silently and lead the way to a small coffee shop around the corner, our regular post-therapy routine.
As we sit down opposite of each other I ask my standard question. "And?"
Through her tears and vivid chatter I determine that apparently Mr. Shrink and I indeed agree on something - closure's the key, in whatever form that might come. So I sit here and pay attention to my girlfriend's detailed plans to rid herself of her dead fiancés spirit once and for all. How you can ever completely accomplish that escapes me – dead people shouldn't be here in the first place, so how do you know they won't be coming back? On a side note, all of a sudden I have a newfound respect for that little boy from the 'Sixth Sense'.
In any case, as the conversation moves on to Izzie's assignments in preparation for her next meeting, which apparently includes me accompanying her to talk about 'stuff', I know I won't be leaving her side anytime soon, won't be going anywhere. After all, what is it that they say? For better or worse, or something like that…
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