"Come on," Denny's voice was feather soft. He walked toward the large panes of glass and closed the blinds. The man had every intention of kissing her and he didn't really want to be interrupted by a curious nurse or doctor.
Squeezing back, he walked from window to window until they were alone together. "Izzie." He turned and faced her, then. And he got a good look at her for the first time in a while. Everything was very quiet and very still, Denny noticed. "You fixed me. It wasn't... it wasn't your fault that I died." His free hand went to her face, his thumb brushed away a tear trail. "You fixed me. I'm sorry I died on you." He wanted to promise her that she wouldn't lose him again, but he couldn't make that promise. Not when his heart was running on a battery again.