Dr. Alex Karev,

@answerstosatan @satanisaddizen

In the wake of his marriage nearly crumbling to dust, Alex knew something needed to change. Years were shed off his rugged good looks the second it finally clicked. The topic had been on the table for some time, but the sheer enormity of the challenge intimidated the ped’s surgen, if he was being honest with himself. His wife was more than capable, of this he was sure. She had the experience and the sufficient knowledge and professionalism he lacked. 

The stress had been eating away at them for months. The amount of fights they had shared was just insane. It was just getting bad and he knew it. It was either about money or time or purpose. Their schedules were constantly clashing. Alex simply missed working with Addison and following a case with her. They had always operated seamlessly together every step of the way, and over the last few years their connection had only seemed to have grown. 

Sometimes all it took was one look across the room, mouth masked, and he knew what she was thinking. A nod, a subtle twitch. They were magic together. 

But they couldn’t be magic together when they weren’t at their best and lately Addison and Alex had been far from their very best. Instead of tearing into each other all the time and bringing their score to what he decided couldn’t be any greater than a five, they needed to go back to being a ten. As surgeons. As partners. As parents. 

When he arrived home at close to nine, it was to the sight of Addison and Gabriel curled up on the couch in front of the TV. “Hey Dad.” Gabriel greeted right away, the light of the screen reflecting his pale face. “We were just about to watch a movie, you wanna join?” Gabriel knew things between his parents had been tense lately, and Alex knew he knew it too. “Um...” Alex hesitated, running his hand over his face. He was tired and had been hoping to talk to Addison, but that damn son of his looked so hopeful. He shared a quiet glance with his wife before replying. “What movie?” Then he shook his head. It didn’t matter. “Can I have a shower first? I smell like surgery. Just start it without me and I’ll join.”

@answerstosatan @satanisaddizen

Dear Holly,

writing to this

He'd never felt this before. Never had someone watch him like a hawk, never known the feeling of someone caring enough. In sickness and in health were the vows stated clearly in front of an audience, but Alex had never witnessed their power for himself before now. He'd stayed by Izzie's side at her worst, when she shaved her hair and grew sick and weak, as the IL2 pumped through her veins and changed her, both inside and out. He'd cared so much that when the weight of her betrayal and abandonment finally sunk into his bones it hurt worse than a gun shot.

In fact, he'd almost welcomed another pain, this one more visceral and easily treatable. Time healed all wounds, but some still lingered phantom in one's soul. Some still left a scar, invisible to the naked eye. And sometimes, time simply allowed a person to settle into their diluted vision of what life, of what love, was supposed to be.

As he laid there in bed that night, it was with a small twitch of his ear that Alex become alerted to the presence of her entering the room again. Everything was heightened in his compromised state. His body ached, his skin felt paper thin and raw; he was warm. His head felt like an ocean with tidal waves crashing against his skull. Even a jerk of his hand or slight modification of position felt like the most challenging task he'd ever had to complete. Somehow he'd taken for granted how many freaking times you swallowed in a day. He knew because now whenever his throat clenched, it felt like a sharp knife was sliding down his windpipe.

He wanted to say something, ask how their son was, how she was... but he couldn't. His body was so tired and the effort it took to form sentences, let alone thoughts was a milestone he just couldn't try for tonight. So instead, Alex watched quietly as Addison managed to find a comfortable spot for herself on the couch, curling into a ball. Before she could glance in his direction, the ped's surgeon shut his eyes tight, not wanting to disturb her with another flood of unneeded concern. He could feel her gaze and willed himself to stay still. If she knew he was awake, she'd ask why he wasn't sleeping, if he needed something, how he felt.

But all that Alex felt right now with conviction was loved.

He felt cared for, concerned for, worried about, and ultimately safe. It was such a foreign experience to the neglected boy buried underneath this rugged surface of a man that he felt stunned by the weight of its intensity.

He wasn't even that sick. Sure, people dropped dead from scarlet fever in the nineteenth century, but not today. The antibiotics were going to knock it clean out of his system in a couple days, and he'd be good as new. This was nothing compared to an un-anesthetized procedure in the middle of a conference room, and the aftermath to follow. Nor was it anything really to match bathroom floors and the patched up and forgotten cover ups that followed, left to fester in shame instead of heal in open air.

No, this definitely wasn't the worst, but it surely wouldn't be the last.

Even though Addison had not been there with him through his most trying trials of pain and suffering, what mattered was that she was here now to make even the most minor of aches and bruises more bearable. That was more than Alex had ever known. It was more than he had ever hoped for or thought he deserved.

She was everything to him, and more. She had given him a home. She had given him fatherhood. She had given him peace of mind, self-confidence, partnership, unwavering devotion and trust. She had given him everything, and she did it because she wanted to. Because she loved him.

For the first time in his life, Alex Karev knew what it felt like: to not question it, to give in and allow someone to tend to to him rather than vise verse, to know it was okay to be dependent, to hog the bed. At least for tonight he'd feel it.