Break the Night with Colour

"Fine," she had said that word countless times to describe her state of being. But did she truly believe it?

Fine!

"I'm fine. He's fine... We're fine."

However, the reality was far from fine. He had laid motionless on the hospital bed, and she had laid next to him, deceiving herself into believing he was still alive, that he hadn't left her yet. But his skin had been almost cold, and his lips had already turned blue, and this had been the nightmare she had faced since she had learned the name, Denny Duquette.

Amidst the thumping of her own heart, she had struggled to hear her friend's voices but had managed to discern their words.

"Izzy, he's gone," they said, urging her to let them take him away.

"You have to let them take him, Izzy. He's no longer your Denny," they added.

But Izzy couldn't believe them. She could still feel Denny's presence as if he was still there with her. She could feel the warmth of his hands, knowing that his heart was now fixed. His fingers brushed a stray curl behind her ear, and she could feel his breath against the top of her head. They must be lying, she thought, because she could still feel him so vividly.

She couldn't believe it. They must have been lying to her. There was no way her beloved Denny would propose to her and then leave her by dying. It just didn't make any sense.

In her restless sleep, chaotic scenes kept swirling around her, all featuring Denny desperately trying to convey something to her. But the one that jolted her awake with a strangled cry was truly a gothic horror story.

Meredith was often teased for being dark and twisty, but in reality, it was Izzy who had the dark and twisted dreams. Her nightmares were so terrifying that they would make her scream and wake up abruptly.

In the dream, it was her wedding day, and Denny, the love of her life, was by her side. But at the same time, it was also his funeral, and he was lying in a coffin. How could this be? How could he be both at the same time?

Her body was covered in sweat as she jolted upright in bed, gasping heavily with a thick, throaty breath. She reached for the glass of water on her nightstand, pausing momentarily as the urge to douse herself with the chilly liquid crept up on her.

"Izzy,"

The sound of his voice startled her. She clasped her chest, turning her head towards him and barely making out his silhouette in the dimly lit room. Even though she recognized his unmistakable southern accent, she struggled to believe what she was seeing: the sturdy, virile horse of a man he once described himself as. He couldn't be here; he was dead.

"Are you alright, Izzy?" asked Denny as Izzy turned on her lamp, struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness and the sight of Denny Duquette in her bed.

"Another bad dream?" he inquired as Izzy nodded, looking at him in bewilderment. Denny lay back down and motioned with his finger, inviting her closer, "Come here," he whispered, "I'll keep you safe."

Izzy snuggled up to him, enjoying the warmth of his bare chest against her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and giving her gentle kisses on her forehead and nose.

"Hey, you know what, maybe you should think about seeing that doctor again," he suggested.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

"I don't want to boss you around or anything, but it's been over six months now, and you're still having those nightmares about me dying," he said, concern in his voice.

He gently rubbed her back, trying to reassure her. "I just want you to feel better, Izzy," he added, giving her a small smile.

"I know," she mumbled, hiding her face in his chest, her tears streaming down her cheeks. Memories flooded her mind. She recalled her prom night at the hospital, spinning in her dress as Denny laughed and flirted with her. Then, the memory shifted to the moment when she helped Denny into the taxi as he left the hospital, saying goodbye to her friends. She remembered meeting his parents for the first time and the happiness of their wedding day.

He kept his promise and we're good, she thought, her gaze fixed on him, and a small smile formed on her lips. But as she looked into his eyes, she realized that they were not just good, they were really happy. Her heart filled with joy, and her eyes sparkled with delight.