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Title: Pretty and Smart
Characters: Grey's Anatomy: Izzy and Bailey.
Setting: End of season two- I hadn't seen season three yet so didn't know how Izzy actually gets back to work.
Word Count: 947
Rating: G
A/N: Never wrote Grey's before
wrote this one for a challenge, I was given the first paragraph.
A light bulb was hanging from the ceiling shading a soft light on the room. The door creaks open and Izzy enters. She's wearing her every day clothes and has no make up on. She makes her way towards the body bag on a nearby metallic table. She gingerly reaches out to the zip...
? and unzips it. Empty. Nobody in the bag, not even a body. Not like when Denny was in one of the bags. He was there and not there. Like, in the room. He was there, smiling, delighted, and then he wasn't there, not in the room, not in his body.
And now, staring into empty bags has become a guilty indulgence, one which is supposed to make it clearer, make her understand. Izzy doesn't understand. She doesn't understand how one moment he was there, the next he wasn't, she doesn't understand how one moment she'd had it all, and the next, nothing.
It isn't like Izzy to be entirely selfish. She prefers to think of herself as motivated, focused, goal oriented. She prefers to think of the sacrifices she has made as exactly that, sacrifices, although sometimes she wonders if any of it is worth it.
Seems like the trailer park wasn't so bad, seems like high school was a walk in the park, seems like being a mommy would have been a great alternative. She wonders if this is some kind of punishment, for being so single minded.
She was smart, all along. But those early teenage years which should have been so pivotal were only a blur. And the being fifteen and the first (not the last) girl in her class to get herself pregnant (she knew she didn't get ?herself' pregnant) and the finally coming down from her beauty queen drug induced high and deciding: I'll give up this baby and I'll use my brain and I'll be a doctor, damn, seems like a world away. Like "Cricket" never existed.
Leaving her mother had been hard- but had seemed so meaningful, like life was starting again, and nobody, but nobody knew her. And pre-med was a bitch, but the student loans were so easily paid off and for the first time in her life she had money. She even sent her mother a little, from time to time although she hesitated to send too much- no need for her mother to start wondering where it was coming from.
And all the while, the denial became a part of her and for all that she would tell Cristina and Meredith that she had been brought up in a trailer park, she believed it less and less, and believed more and more that she was a doctor.
Moving the zip back and forth, she wants to be Izzy, just Izzy and it had seemed like she could have had it all, been Izzy who was a trailer park girl, been Izzy who was a doctor and been Izzy who belonged to Denny, where it was safe to be smart and pretty, both at the same time. The noise is hypnotizing and she doesn't hear the door open.
"What you doing girl, down in this here morgue again?" Bailey's demanding tone, an intrusion if there ever was one, snaps her out of her stupor. "You think I'm stupid, don't you Dr. Stevens- I knew you were down here, and I know you come down here every day. You know how I know? I seen you." Bailey is triumphant- she sees all, knows all.
Her eyes are red as she looks at Bailey. "You can just call me Izzy. I'm not a doctor anymore. And I was just going." She moves towards the door, tries to duck out, but Bailey will have none of it. She narrows her eyes at Izzy, blocks the entrance with her arm.
"And where you going now, Dr. Stevens? You going home, ?til you come back here tomorrow, and I find you here in this empty room again? We gonna play cat and mouse ?til you give it up and come back to being a doctor?"
"Home? I don't even know where home is? It was supposed to be?" Izzy doesn't finish the sentence. Home was supposed to be with Denny.
Bailey points her chin at Izzy, her eyes seem to narrow further, if that's possible. "This your home, Dr. Stevens. Not this morgue, but that's a part of it too. You been coming back, sneaking into the hospital every day now, because Seattle Grace is your home. You go to your house now, you get changed, you put on your doctor's face with all your pretty girl make-up, and you come back here. Then, you gonna march your little ass up to the chief and find out when you gonna start here again." Having said her piece, she turns to go.
Izzy sighs, relieved to be left alone again. She thinks Bailey is gone, when the heavy woman turns, and pokes her head back into the room. "You think about what I said Dr. Stevens. Otherwise, I'm gonna see you here again, tomorrow and the next day. Then the day after that, ?til you see sense."
Izzy looks heavenwards, looking for answers. All she sees is the light bulb, just hanging there, lighting the room. It's a different light to the bright lights in the surgeries, she thinks. And just like the bright lights of cities call some people, she knows, inevitably, that the bright lights of surgery are indeed calling her. Dr. Izzy Stevens hates that she can continue, but she can. She knows, too, that she is pretty, and smart, all at the same time.
Characters: Grey's Anatomy: Izzy and Bailey.
Setting: End of season two- I hadn't seen season three yet so didn't know how Izzy actually gets back to work.
Word Count: 947
Rating: G
A/N: Never wrote Grey's before
wrote this one for a challenge, I was given the first paragraph.A light bulb was hanging from the ceiling shading a soft light on the room. The door creaks open and Izzy enters. She's wearing her every day clothes and has no make up on. She makes her way towards the body bag on a nearby metallic table. She gingerly reaches out to the zip...
? and unzips it. Empty. Nobody in the bag, not even a body. Not like when Denny was in one of the bags. He was there and not there. Like, in the room. He was there, smiling, delighted, and then he wasn't there, not in the room, not in his body.
And now, staring into empty bags has become a guilty indulgence, one which is supposed to make it clearer, make her understand. Izzy doesn't understand. She doesn't understand how one moment he was there, the next he wasn't, she doesn't understand how one moment she'd had it all, and the next, nothing.
It isn't like Izzy to be entirely selfish. She prefers to think of herself as motivated, focused, goal oriented. She prefers to think of the sacrifices she has made as exactly that, sacrifices, although sometimes she wonders if any of it is worth it.
Seems like the trailer park wasn't so bad, seems like high school was a walk in the park, seems like being a mommy would have been a great alternative. She wonders if this is some kind of punishment, for being so single minded.
She was smart, all along. But those early teenage years which should have been so pivotal were only a blur. And the being fifteen and the first (not the last) girl in her class to get herself pregnant (she knew she didn't get ?herself' pregnant) and the finally coming down from her beauty queen drug induced high and deciding: I'll give up this baby and I'll use my brain and I'll be a doctor, damn, seems like a world away. Like "Cricket" never existed.
Leaving her mother had been hard- but had seemed so meaningful, like life was starting again, and nobody, but nobody knew her. And pre-med was a bitch, but the student loans were so easily paid off and for the first time in her life she had money. She even sent her mother a little, from time to time although she hesitated to send too much- no need for her mother to start wondering where it was coming from.
And all the while, the denial became a part of her and for all that she would tell Cristina and Meredith that she had been brought up in a trailer park, she believed it less and less, and believed more and more that she was a doctor.
Moving the zip back and forth, she wants to be Izzy, just Izzy and it had seemed like she could have had it all, been Izzy who was a trailer park girl, been Izzy who was a doctor and been Izzy who belonged to Denny, where it was safe to be smart and pretty, both at the same time. The noise is hypnotizing and she doesn't hear the door open.
"What you doing girl, down in this here morgue again?" Bailey's demanding tone, an intrusion if there ever was one, snaps her out of her stupor. "You think I'm stupid, don't you Dr. Stevens- I knew you were down here, and I know you come down here every day. You know how I know? I seen you." Bailey is triumphant- she sees all, knows all.
Her eyes are red as she looks at Bailey. "You can just call me Izzy. I'm not a doctor anymore. And I was just going." She moves towards the door, tries to duck out, but Bailey will have none of it. She narrows her eyes at Izzy, blocks the entrance with her arm.
"And where you going now, Dr. Stevens? You going home, ?til you come back here tomorrow, and I find you here in this empty room again? We gonna play cat and mouse ?til you give it up and come back to being a doctor?"
"Home? I don't even know where home is? It was supposed to be?" Izzy doesn't finish the sentence. Home was supposed to be with Denny.
Bailey points her chin at Izzy, her eyes seem to narrow further, if that's possible. "This your home, Dr. Stevens. Not this morgue, but that's a part of it too. You been coming back, sneaking into the hospital every day now, because Seattle Grace is your home. You go to your house now, you get changed, you put on your doctor's face with all your pretty girl make-up, and you come back here. Then, you gonna march your little ass up to the chief and find out when you gonna start here again." Having said her piece, she turns to go.
Izzy sighs, relieved to be left alone again. She thinks Bailey is gone, when the heavy woman turns, and pokes her head back into the room. "You think about what I said Dr. Stevens. Otherwise, I'm gonna see you here again, tomorrow and the next day. Then the day after that, ?til you see sense."
Izzy looks heavenwards, looking for answers. All she sees is the light bulb, just hanging there, lighting the room. It's a different light to the bright lights in the surgeries, she thinks. And just like the bright lights of cities call some people, she knows, inevitably, that the bright lights of surgery are indeed calling her. Dr. Izzy Stevens hates that she can continue, but she can. She knows, too, that she is pretty, and smart, all at the same time.
