Title: Until Him
Author: AbayJ
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea.
Rating: T (For language.)
Genre: Angst/Drama
Fandom: Grey's
Ship: Cristina/Owen
Song: Song to listen too while you're reading, It's Not Over -- Secondhand Serenade or Shattered -- OAR.
Summery: She didn't do regrets, until him.
Author's Note: Short drabble, not really a drabble through. Partly inspired by true life events.
Warning: Not beta. All mistakes are mine alone.
Until Him
Her voice hitched, this though was a common occurrence nowadays. She was weak, this too though was becoming known throughout the hospital as fact. Her eyes strayed to the phone, remembering the exact times of the last time he called. The first few times she hadn't answered, her stomach leaping out of her throat and down the toilet, and then just the fear of hearing him say the words had paralyzed her. Now though, she was wishing he could hear him just once more. Another regret on the already high pile that she had.
She, Cristina Yang, didn't do regrets, until him. Until the magical Owen Hunt. Army and surgical god. Would she ever learn? Meredith had found her happy ever, but she, she wasn't made for them. Burke should have taught her that.
Another resident, another heart break.
Shoving her phone into her back pocket, she looked up at Joe. He grimaced and walked over. He may hate dealing with an upset Cristina without Meredith being here as a buffer but he was a bartender. He knew his responsibilities.
"The dollar place is still open." He mummer, filling her class with the straight vodka she preferred nowadays.
"Been there." She mummer back, drowning the shot and then wincing. She rather physical pain then emotional. She could cope with physical pain. Cristina Yang didn't do emotional pain and regrets, that was until him.
"Maybe I should call Meredith." His hand was already reaching for the phone, it was nearing three a.m., and she didn't move to stop him like she had for the past three hours.
She looked at the empty glass. Her finger running around the rim, making circles over and over again, until the glass tipped over. It rolled, and rolled, and rolled until it fell over the edge. It crashed by her feet, splintering into a thousand pieces. How poetic. Cristina Yang didn't shatter, do emotional pain, or regrets, until him.
She heard Joe in the background. "It's Joe, Mere, you need to come get Cristina again....I got her keys....yeah, I'll make sure she doesn't try and leave. Thanks Mere."
His voice though, was floating further and further away. Her head leaned down on the bar. Memories...bad, good, great, sad, were floating in and out of her mind. Their first kiss, the air vent, the bed, the lies, his anger, his lack of anger. Her lack of him. Her heart constricted and she wanted to dig it out of her own chest. Cristina Yang didn't do heart break, didn't shatter, do emotional pain, or regrets, until him.
"How could you lie? Why did you lie?" His words made her eyes sting. She hadn't cried since Meredith held her as she ripped off her wedding gown. "All I asked was for honesty...did you think I would leave because of your mistakes?" She had, she had been so sure if he had found out what she had done in the past, how she had risked patients lives all to protect the man she had loved.
"You are leaving me because of my mistakes." She had muttered in return. He was leaving, his bag in his hand, his scrub cap dangling from his fingers. "No, I'm leaving because of the lies." Then he had turned around, walked out the door, and she was left with this hollow feeling.
He was gone. Forever. Now all she was left was with an un-rining phone, vodka, and Meredith. He was probably back with the perfect blonde. Now she was wishing she was blonde and perfect. Cristina Yang didn't wish, didn't do heart break, didn't shatter, didn't do emotional pain, or regrets, until him.
In the background she heard the door swing open and she lifted her head. She expected for him to be there, walking through the door. Offering her those forty years again. It wasn't him. It was Meredith.
She leaned her head back and down and let a few tears slip down her cheeks. Meredith walked beside her bar stool and she felt her arms go around her. Cristina leaned into those arms and looked up at her best friend. The one person who was always there. "Can we become old maids and cut turkeys to practice our surgery skills?"
Meredith gave her a half smile. "Sure. Sounds like fun." Her tone was dry but Cristina knew she meant it.
"Thank you." She reached up and wiped her eyes. Stumbling up, leaving her credit card on the bar. They could trust Joe.
"She'll pick up her bike and card in the morning." Meredith said to Joe and Joe just nodded. He was used to this.
Meredith led Cristina towards Derek's truck. She could lay down in there better then she could in Meredith small hybrid. Opening the door, she helped Cristina into the seat. Then ran to the other side. Derek would be outside waiting to help get Cristina into the guest room. It was a nightly ritual.
Cristina threw up a few times in the bucket. Meredith was prepared for nights like this now. Alcohol poisoning, another common occurrence nowadays.
Finally they slowed down, stopped, and Cristina felt another pair of strong arms around her. She leaned into them, imagining a certain surgical and army God holding her like this. Then they were gone. Cristina Yang didn't do imaginary arms, wishes, heart brakes, didn't shatter, emotional pain, or regrets until him.
A soft bed replaced the arms.
"I need to stay here tonight." Mere's words hanged between the people. Derek though nodded. After all, this was a nightly ritual. Cristina felt the bed dip, the small arms wrap around her and she began to cry.
"He's not coming back is he?" The words were broken. So unlike Cristina. After all Cristina Yang didn't break, didn't do imaginary arms, wishes, heart break, shattering, emotional pain, or regrets until him.
"I don't think so." Mere whispered and held onto her broken best friend tighter.