The Balance
By greyeyedgirl
Nov. 18, 2006
Summary: Inspired by the 309 promos, goes through that heartbreaking storyline…Bang of course, I wanted MerDer to drown in that bathtub…
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CHAPTER ONEI am trying to calm myself.
My skin is prickling, as if it's me that's being cut.
I used to be able to come here to think.
I can feel so many eyes on me, I sense the tension radiating. I'm an intern, I shouldn't be doing this.
It used to be that I was unaware of any of them. I was only seeing the hands, the line carefully being drawn before my world would open up for me, the hands exerting such careful force, as the energy reflected matter-of-factly off of the magic scalpel.
Now I can feel him watching me, resentful, as I try to keep him intact, try to keep his life from falling apart as much as I'm doing to the man on this table.
He's standing closer to me than he has in weeks. I can't even focus on it, I have to finish this.
My mind is fuzzing, I should have napped during lunch instead of cramming a study session. Fat lot it'll do Mr. D'Abruzzo here if I know the proper techniques, if I just end up zoning out while I'm performing them.
Zoning out? This is surgery, damn it!
The suture is finished. I can close. Cut, suture, close.
I have to remember that.
Cut. Suture. Close.
I need to study more. I need the definitions and the monotone of the textbooks, I need to wrap my self in them, drown in the comfort of my aptitude. I am doing everything I can and I'm still perceived as a robot, so it is pointless. I need to become that person again. This is too dangerous, it's not worth it enough to care like this.
So I need my edge back.
Cut, suture, close.
He's done. I have pulled it off perfectly, he's fine. He's going to be fine. Cristina Yang does not make mistakes in surgery.
Robots malfunction less than humans, right?
He won't tell me what he wants. He screamed it at me once, and when I gave it to him, I just get this. Cold, harsh stares whenever he looks at me.
Or nothing at all.
I can't keep doing this.
I have to do this. He screamed it at me, he was wrapping himself deeper and deeper into his own anger and despair. He was angry at me, he got that-that look, like I disgusted him. He said he needed Preston Burke. He needs Preston Burke, and I have to do this.
He won't tell me exactly what he wants. I make him more unhappy than anybody else. I saw him laugh with Shepherd the day before he went camping.
I can't remember the last time he laughed like that with me.
I don't know how to give him what he needs.
I want to tell him what I want…but I can't when he looks at me like that.
