Alex puts down that security deposit, and he and Ava move out, two days before the world comes crashing down.

Two and a half weeks later she’s just another body at the morgue and Izzie throws caution to the wind. She figures out the combination to his locker, one she learned far too long ago, and finds the paperwork for ‘change of address’. Five minutes later she’s in the car on her way there.

He’ll hide. That’s how he is. He’ll hide and no one will try to find him and this – they may not still be together but they were once, she thought she was in love with him once, and he still might be with her, so she’s not going to let him hide and she’s sure as hell not going to leave him by himself.

The apartment complex is confusing, too many entrances and too few signs and by the time she ends up outside of room 421 she’s all turned around. She takes a moment, both to get her head on right and to steel herself. He’s going to yell and he’s probably going to tell her to just leave him the hell alone, but this is just his version of mourning. He doesn’t cry, so there’s this, and she’s spent the past few weeks learning this about him, she gets these things now.

She has to knock four times before he answers. When he does he’s got a beer in one hand and a hostile look on his face. “What are you doing here?”

So they’re skipping formalities. She nods to the inside, “Do you really want to have this conversation in the hallway?”

“I don’t want to have it at all.” He retorts, and she bites down on her lower lip to keep herself from doing something she’ll regret.

“You know what? I’m not leaving, so either you let me in or you give your new neighbors something to talk about.”

He steps aside and she congratulates herself on a job well done. When it slams behind her she reminds herself she’s not finished yet.

“I’m sorry.”

His expression doesn’t change. “Is that all you came for? Because really I’ve heard that enough today.” He lets the beer hit the countertop with a hollow sound, not knowing what to do with his hands. “Everyone’s sorry.”

“Yeah Alex, everyone is sorry. It’s not a bad thing.” She’s beginning to wonder if she’s overestimating her patience.

“Nobody’s got anything to be sorry about.” He shakes his head, his words laced with sarcasm. “It’s not like anybody did anything.”

“There was nothing to do,” she replies.

His eyes take on a darker quality as he stares straight at her, something akin to hatred and, even though he’s upset and probably drunk, it hurts. “Again, what are you doing here?”

“I came here to tell you to come home.” She tells him, not exactly the lead up she’d been hoping for.

He only laughs at that, bitterly. “Get out of here Izzie; you’re just wasting your time.”

She isn’t going that easily. “I told you I’m not leaving. Not until you come with me.”

“You know what,” he starts towards her, “I’m doing you a favor, believe me. So why don’t you just go home and forget we ever had this conversation.”

“No.” Her voice is firm, as is her expression. “No, I’m not going to do that. You shouldn’t be alone; I don’t care how much you want to be.” He rolls his eyes but she pushes on. “I’m sorry she’s gone, I really am, and I do know how you feel because I’ve been here before. I’ve been here. I’ve had plans, actual plans, and then I had it ripped out from under me. But…but people die, and it sucks, and you feel like everything’s changed, and you can’t breathe.”

She can’t feel the tears but she knows they’re there from the expression on his face, and she wasn’t supposed to cry in front of him, that wasn’t part of the plan, no matter how much it seems to be softening him up, because she’s not that kind of girl.

“I know how it feels. But I also know that I wouldn’t be able to stand here and say this if you hadn’t been there with me.” Finally, he breaks his gaze and looks away from her. This is progress, she thinks, if nothing else. “So I’m not going to leave you because you didn’t leave me.”

Her face feels hot and her hand comes up to wipe at her eyes before she reaches out and grabs his arm, turning him so he has no choice but to look at her. His eyes aren’t hostile anymore, they’re sad now, sad and tired and, standing here with him, she’s realizing just how messed up they both still are.

“Come home, Alex.” Her voice has been reduced to a little girl’s plea, gone is the strong willed woman of just a moment ago. “Just come home.”

Her hand slides down his arm, as she pulls it back to her body, but his fingers catch hers, and she can feel that lump again. She can feel that, and her tears, and him, and the weight of this all. It’s crushing.

It’s crushing, but it lifts, like everything else will in time, with a mumbled “okay” and she lets it all out in an exhale as she leads him back home.