Izzie wakes up feeling nauseous and achy. She feels hot and oddly detached from her body. Before she even opens her eyes, she realizes three things. She is back in her bed, there's a needle in her arm, and she is not alone. From the strain of the mattress, she can feel the weight of a person sitting at the foot of her bed.

Again, for one elated split second, she thinks it must be Denny. There's only one person who would sit with me while I'm sleeping, she thinks. When she remembers, she feels the air rush out of her lungs with a sensation much like if she'd been punched in the stomach. Idiot! She feels like screaming. Get it in your head, he's never been to your house, he's never sat on your bed, he's never taken care ofyou whenyou're sick, and he never will.

Under her closed eyelids, two tears squeeze out and drip down both cheeks.

"Izzie."

She hears Preston's voice, and she looks at him finally. She doesn't know what he's doing here; his presence surprises her. He hasn't been to the house in months. Somewhere in her dim memory, she also remembers that he was shot. Why isn't he a hospital patient?

"What are you doing here?" she manages to say, but it's hard to form words and her voice sounds strange in her ears.

"I came to give you the IV. And a doctor's house call." He smiles gently and speaks softly. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know." Izzie answers as her gaze turns to that crack of light coming from underneath her window shade.

Burke turns to face her and leans forward slightly, looking intently at her. "I'm going to make you better."

A fury Izzie didn't know she had rises up in her, and she feels her face grow even hotter. Her hands clench at her sides. "You can't make me better." She seethes at him. "You can't just snap your fingers and all of a sudden, I'm perfectly fine. In one hour, everything changed. I gave up my job and my career. I'm never going back. But I don't really care about that. I would have, under any other circumstance. I would have thought the world was ending, that I was a failure and an idiot. Now, I wouldn't mind if I never left this room again. Because somewhere between choosing a prom dress and losing my job, I also lost…" she chokes on tears that do not spill out of her eyes. They just stay poised, quivering over her lashes.

Preston reaches out to touch her arm, but then seemingly rethinks his action and recoils quickly, as if lashed out at. He folds his hands together, and rests them on her blanket, his expression concerned. He does not speak, so Izzie swallows a few times and tries to continue.

"I lost the only man I've ever… I've ever loved. You can't…" she hiccups, almost hysterical. "You can't just say you're going to make me better. That's…"

"That's impossible. You'll never recover." Preston interrupts finally. Izzie is silent. She lets him tentatively take her hand. "I only meant I'd solve your dehydration. The least of your worries, but I'll do what I can. Izzie, to tell you I could fix your broken heart would make me the most foolish person you've ever met. Don't let anyone tell you they can do that."

Izzie gulps down another sob, not knowing how to respond. So she doesn't. She takes deep breaths and calms herself until she is breathing normally and her tears have dried. And Burke only smiles sadly. A moment passes, and Izzie's eyes begin to droop again. He gets up and pulls her shade closed all the way, so her room is enveloped in darkness. He leaves after checking on her one more time, closing the door with a quiet click.