A/N: I miss GI friendship so much. I do believe they were designed for each other and they loved each other enough to let go of all that potential they had, but it's just going to be weird seeing Izzie without her person. So apparently when I'm missing GI it leads to fic. Thanks for reading, enjoy, and review.

Hypothetically

The ironic part is; now that he is gone, she thinks about it more frequently than she ever did before. It's like he has his own room in her head (well, he already had, and still does have one of those in her heart, so it's not all that surprising, she concludes) and he won't budge from her brain. Izzie likes to think she's been through the five stages of grief, and that Alex was enough to get her through all the denial, wet pillows and the hard silences that occupy the air between herself and her husband. And initially, she had no doubt that Alex was enough.

But she still has trouble deciphering between Alex the jackass, the cold, impenetrable guy who brings people down so he can bring himself up, and the Alex she loves – the changed man who is ready to settle down and is actually kind.

He's a bit of both these days, and she knows she should be appreciative. Sometimes, when he's making her takes her meds in the middle of surgeries, when he reminds her of how much he really does love her, she does appreciate it.

But with him, it's a fight. A constant fight to just pull it together, even though they're married, and it should be together without fighting, without feeling a void and without feeling this tired.

And that's all Isobel Stevens is. She back at work, she has a husband whom she loves despite his flaws and she still has Meredith and Cristina.

It's George, just having to be the hero. Looking back, she would have expected nothing less of him, because that's what he'd been doing since the moment they had certified themselves best friends Being her hero and sometimes, being everyone else's too. She wonders, with the wonderful gift of hindsight, how she went from George to Alex. How she could have had one man as her best friend and another drastically different one as her husband. And in wondering all of this, she laughs bitterly to herself – it's probably best for her marriage that George isn't around. She knows how terrible that sounds, but its honesty. She knows it would have been a lot better for his marriage had she not been around.

It's alarming that between Denny and Alex, its George's stare she still wants on her the most. She never clamoured for his attention, given that she was always his person anyway, but she wanted it, she always had. She knows, at the heart of the matter, it was why she frowned on his marriage from the beginning. But she was always willing to set on second row for him; it was being part of each others lives that mattered the most. And that's what she adored most – his ability to be honest, and encourage her. When she thinks about what was the most right (people keeps telling her it's wrong, including herself) inevitable (people were literally left open-mouthed when they heard) and understandable (people pass it off as a drunken mess fuelled by impulse) it's that night, with him. With liquor on their lips, the sense of everything finally; falling into place.

Without him, she's wandering around aimlessly. The only goal she sets now is to save a life, person by person. She takes things daily, and reminds herself that no, it's not okay to let your mind wander to what could have been when your husband is lying right beside you, consistently being there, bad Karev mood or not.

And all those big dreams like marriage (she still can't escape the feeling that Alex married her because time was escaping them, and now that it's not, he's certainly not as able as he though he was) and the house (they live in a trailer, and she can't shake the thought that because Addison and Derek lived there prior, it's trying to tell her something) and kids. Children. Alex doesn't want those. Once, when she confided in him that wanted children, two boys and two girls because she wanted that huge family to bake and be there for, his smile slackened and he dismissed it with a typical twenty something male reply of "Maybe in five years, babe."

Five years. Her life has reached that point where everything is just so incomprehensible; she doesn't even know she'll have another five years. Then she's reminded of her best friend; he wasn't the one with cancer and he died. Five years. Five years ago, she met George. She'd gone through more in five years than anyone else she'd ever known.

She'd make the excuse that Christmas makes her think of him, but that's just false, because it doesn't take much prompting. Although she does remember that one Christmas they had – just the three of them – her Meredith and George, it began with a fourteen hour shift and lying under the Christmas tree gazing into the bright lights, it was a situation so calming and peaceful that even though things were far from okay that year, they were going to be.

They're having some Christmas get together at Meredith's house and Izzie's baking Christmas tree shaped cookies when Meredith wanders in to keep her company. They talk mostly about work, considering it's all they really have in common; they tease each other and ask themselves how they got here, both married and actually happy. For most, that's a rare thing, for these people, it's just incredible.

"Well, this beats spending our Christmas lying under a tree." Meredith says flippantly with a small smile on her face.

The smile slips when Izzie remembers the other thing they had in common.

"I never pictured us without him. Not once." Izzie says earnestly, offering Meredith a cookie, she takes one.

"Me too." She takes a bite, lets out a contented sigh – Izzie doesn't have to be a surgeon, she could model and bake for a living – and wonders what George would say right now. "We'll never stop missing him Iz. It's something...we'll get used to. I know it's different for you. I know that."

She sets down the baking tray and becomes very serious very suddenly.

"Everybody..." she trails off, toying with the ring on her finger, Mer gives her that look that demands she tell her what's going on. "Everybody thought George and me...that it was wrong. And it was because we cheated on Callie. He was a married man. But I..."

There's something strangely sympathetic in how Meredith is looking at Izzie, and there's a lot of forgiveness mixed with mourning in this moment.

"But it didn't feel wrong. I know I shouldn't be saying it or even thinking it. Everybody just kept telling me that it was the right thing for him to make it work with Callie and that I should let go. So I did. I let go. And Meredith, it wasn't worth it." She says earnestly. Meredith's never been good with random heart filled confessions so Izzie doesn't even know why she chose to say this here and now, and it wasn't like she'd treat this with sensitivity, that was reserved for Cristina.

But sometimes, people can surprise you, and you remember that there's a reason for the random outbursts in the first place.

"Derek was a married man." She states factually. It sounds so foreign on her tongue – Meredith and Derek were a legend at this point.

"You didn't know." Izzie replies, eye rolling.

"I know," Meredith draws a deep breath, "but it doesn't change anything. He cheated."

Izzie nods in response; she's not getting a useful answer. Maybe one just does not exist.

"It's okay," Meredith adds, "to miss him Izzie. But you so have dirty Uncle Sal in there, who loves you."

"You always did take Alex's side." She remarks half playfully, half bitterly. Meredith concedes with a laugh.

"It's not the same type of love you and George have...had. But love is love, you know? And more often than not, that's enough Izzie." She says with conviction.

"What the hell had Derek done to you?" Izzie grins – forgets that George is still gone for a brief, fleeting moment – and they laugh.

"What can I say? I'm feeling bright and shiny these days. I mean look at us Iz. Mc Married!"

Meredith and Izzie return to the living room and it only becomes so startlingly clear to Izzie in that moment. Everybody is coupled off; Mark and Lexie, Owen and Cristina, Derek and Meredith and she and Alex.

She still wants George here, even when she sits down and Alex kisses her cheek.

When Izzie returns to the kitchen, she turns around and finds Meredith standing at the doorway of it.

Tears start falling to the floor, Izzie's sobs are stifled, and no one else hears but Meredith.

They hug for a very long time and when they part, Meredith says, "I wasn't freaked out by you and George. Okay, at first I was, and then I thought about it, and it made sense. Not that he cheated, because that certainly wasn't a George thing to do, but that you two had finally been together. I can't say I didn't see it coming at some point. What I'm trying to say is that I took you two seriously, is all. Like something was falling into place."

It is the first time in months that one of Izzie's friends has said something that actually speaks to her.

It's eventual, but she becomes better at blocking it out. In the end, she's a doctor. A cold hard scientist. Alex keeps telling her that's what she is. She can be a sweetie, but in the end, she's a doctor.

She knows that's not what she is. She is an optimist. She sees the good in people – that's why she's married to Alex after all. She believes in possibility, and the only possibility that invades her head these days in between her and George. It's all she can think about, and it' not like he's showing up like Denny used to, but he's still there.

And all she can think about is that she and George never got their "maybe someday."

She has never believed in soul mates, despite that she's married to Alex, fell in love with Denny and fell in love with her best friend. Three pivotal men in her life, and only one that she actually wants, she knows that's not healthy but then again, she knows she's not healthy.

She wonders what a soul mate is, and comes to the conclusion that soul mate is just plain corny. George was her person, the others came and went but he was a constant in her life; still is. He understood her like no other and there's something about the space he left that's aching.

She knows she will make it.

I won't make it if you can't be my friend.

The tears still keep coming. It's a depression so dark, she knows the only thing sustaining her is her job, saving lives isn't optional. Alex doesn't notice as frequently anymore, he wants to be Seattle Grace's new star and he's doing more surgeries now than he was as an intern and he's just as competitive as ever, even against his wife. She's happy that he's rising up the ranks and that he's basically becoming the new Mc Steamy, and she's proud of what he has become. She is.

Upon returning from a long, long shift that seemed to eternally drag on, she collapses on her bed and wakes up four hours later with her husband's arms around her.

It's four in the morning when she realises that the man lying beside is not her person. He is someone she married because she liked the idea of what he could be. Not what he is.

She knows that in the morning Alex will depart briskly for surgery, perhaps give her a fleeting kiss first if he's in the mood.

If she and George had mornings, they would be like this;

He'd kiss his way up her body, like a ritual, and find her mouth eventually and she'd protest that no, we don't have to go into work today and he'd reply with but we do, Doctor O'Malley because Mer is falling apart about her Mc Crappy life again and besides, we're do-ers, remember?

She'd slide out of bed, tell him to buy more tampons, he'd frown and she'd say Oh I know we didn't have sex last night. Do you need the bathroom to yourself for a while? Just one of the many memories they made with each other and he's give her the evil glare, she would redeem herself bu kissing him. Only after she had brushed her teeth, of course.

If they had to deal with George's mother it would be something like this;

Mrs O'Malley would give Izzie the evil stare at first and Izzie would realise where George had got it from, she'd smile and Mrs O'Malley would warm up and become slightly more welcoming. Izzie would be determined to make a good impression despite the fact that she was deemed a big cheaty-Mc Cheater by Cristina and Meredith. But they wouldn't matter, because she had George.

George would be as awkward as ever, and would be constantly telling his mother to just give Izzie a break – Mrs O'Malley would respond with religious reasoning as usual, George O'Malley, you were raised a devout catholic! She'd sternly say.

Then she'd eat some of the muffins Izzie baked them and all would be well.

On the way home, he'd tell her just how much he loves her and her miracle muffins.

If they had to cope with Izzie's mother, it would go something like this;

She'd arrive at the hospital in typical Robbie Stevens fashion to frantically check on her daughter and George would already be there by her bedside.

She'd comment on how cute George is, but then Alex would walk in and she'd forget that her daughter even had a boyfriend.

Izzie and George would just laugh at Alex's situation and George would tell Mama Stevens that sure, I'll set you and Alex up on a date.

If they fought, it would be because Izzie was pushing herself too hard with copious amounts of surgery, and George simply wouldn't have her going into work until he was sure she could cope. And knowing her better than anyone else, her timing would be his timing.

And when they sought forgiveness, Izzie would just collapse in his arms and George would envelope her in an embrace.

When he proposed, he'd get down on one knee and take her hand and she'd know right away what he was doing – but them being them, he'd probably do it at the least expected time, probably right there in the middle of hospital. Maybe on the elevator where they kissed, once a flurry of despair and need. He'd tell her she'd never loose her best friend, because if he had it his way, it would be George and Izzie, every day. Nothing less would suffice.

No words needed. Just as none were needed when he remembered, in the linen closet.

But there's a thin line between what should have, could have and would have been, and what is.

Of course she had been fortunate to find the love of her life. Her person. Her frickin' soul mate, if you insist.

The unfortunate part of finding that person, the one that just understands you without having to say a word, the one that complements you, is that once you wake up in the morning with someone else on your side, you'll never shake that sense of tragedy, however trivial or major it may seem.

It is four-zero-two on a Thursday morning and the rain is pelting their trailer relentlessly when Isobel Stevens realises this.

She and George won't have mornings. (Instead, she'll remember him spilling the coffee over himself in an attempt to impress Miss Dark and Twisty and teasing him relentlessly about whoever they slept with the previous night) they won't meet the parents. They'll never tease or fight again and forgiveness was something that came so naturally to each of them, due to the fact that one always understood why the other did what they did. He won't propose.

She'll never have any of this. But what she does have amongst it all, are the memories.

And the memories of George, on this morning, throughout the day and night, are what get her through. Her heart longs for the someday, for the possibility, for the optimism of their relationship. But right now, the memories are enough.

So she keeps breathing.

End.