Author's Note : Hello, this is my first Grey's Anatomy story so I hope you like it. It centres on Alex and Izzie in season five after she tells him about Denny. Reviews are more then welcome.


She is drowning... slowly, but still her body is slowly sinking. Not in the literal sense, but he can see it. Not everyone can of course. Then again the rest of the group have a tendency to be wrapped up in their own twisted lives. How they could call themselves her friends was beyond him. Now she is drowning and not one of them has noticed.

He has been here before. When he was younger, he had watched his best friend die. His only friend drowned in a lake by their house. He had tried so hard to save him, but he was only young what did he know about saving a life. Afterwards he had vowed never again to watch someone die in that way again. Being a doctor, he knew he was walking a fine line with that promise... but so far, he had not broken it. It was horrific watching as someone struggled for breath. The way their eyes show every form of fear and horror. That was the reason he was thankful he had never been there when Meredith had gone under the water. It sounded cruel... but he could not help it. Sure, he had been ecstatic when she had survived but the feeling of elation was still there; his promise had never been broken. Until now.

Watching Izzie drive herself deeper down was slowly making him lose focus. What with his mother and then Rebecca, he had barely survived. It was her that had helped him... led him back on the path as such. Now though she was the one straying and he was unable to guide her. He had told her he loved her. Never had he uttered those words before now. She really was the one for him. It was sad really how he was obviously not the one for her. Everyone has a soul mate and for him it was Izzie... but now watching her through the door as she talked to someone else he realized; he could never win. He had lost to a ghost. It was ridiculous... worthy of some disastrous novel.

Looking down and feeling tears well, he breathed in deeply trying in vain to gain some form of control.

Hearing laughter, he forced himself to step closer to the open door. There she stood bathed in the sunlight from the window. She really was beautiful, laughing at something her companion had said her eyes shone. If only she looked at him like that. For a while, she had... but then everything had changed. Her light had gone out when Denny died, and now it looked as if it was slowly coming back. Unfortunately, it was not because of him.

He had burned the jumper a few weeks ago. She had asked him of course. The last link to the dead man... or so he had thought. Afterwards she had cried while he had held her. He should have known something was wrong then. Denial really was a great thing. George pointing out the obvious had made him snap. Then again he disliked George. The main reason was the relationship he had, had with Izzie. For weeks she had told him, she loved him. The failure, the adulterer, the annoying intern. How could George have possibly won the heart of such a delicate woman? It made him agitated and he could feel himself getting worked up. That was until he heard the word, which made his world stop.


She had actually said the name. She had addressed the dead man. Up until now, he had known she was talking to him but he had never actually heard her converse with him. In the exam room the other day when she had told him, he had tried to play it down. On the surface, he was all smiles but inside he was tearing apart. Not his Izzie. She could not leave him like this. He knew deep down she would though. He could never recall anyone telling him they loved him. He could understand another man... Sure, he would be distraught but he would live through it... he always did; but not a ghost. Especially not him. He hated that man. Actually loathed him. Of course, he would never have wished that fate for him but at the same time, he had her back.

Looking through the door as she swatted the air he amended his thoughts. He did not have her back. She had never been his to win. It had always been Denny, even now.

His heart was now broken and in his mind, something snapped. It was over, no more.

No more lies; no more relationship; no more Izzie.

Hearing enough he turned away from the door to go to his room. He needed to pack; move out of this house. He could not stay here... not with her. How could he live here seeing her everyday in love with another man? Shaking his head of his thoughts, he stepped away then halted suddenly as the floorboard creaked under him. This stupid house and its ridiculously old floorboards had given him away.


Hearing her voice again, this time addressing him he closed his eyes. Trying to shut out her voice, he stood still as time around him stopped. He could feel a pull. Unfortunately it was leading him the wrong way. Thinking back to the past few minutes he broke through the restraints. Opening his eyes, he went to take another step towards his room.

"Alex... Are you coming to bed?"

Her voice, innocent and soft was his undoing. She had no idea of the effect she had over him. Stopping again, he leant his head down and tried to block her out. He had to do this. Then a hand touching his shoulder had him turning. Izzie.

Smiling she nodded her head to the open door behind her.

"Are you coming... You zoned out then?"

Gazing past her, his eyes flitted around the room looking for any sign of a ghost. Not that he would see him of course... but it gave him some form of comfort. Feeling a pull on his hand, he felt his feet move forward. Blinking rapidly he broke from his thoughts and smiled slightly addressing her.

"Yeah, I'm coming".

Reaching back he let the door swing shut. Watching her settle into bed, he went around and crawled in next to her. On her side with her back to him, she shifted closer. Copying her moves, he turned on his side, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

As he felt her drift off to sleep, he berated himself for being so weak. If only he could escape. Resting his head in her neck, he breathed her in. Who was he kidding he did not want to escape, no matter how much it hurt.

She was an addiction. One he could not break hold of. She was drowning and by the looks of it, he was going with her.