Listen to Your Heart
A Grey's Anatomy C/B Fanfic
By Greyeyedgirl
drabble fic.
Summary: A Cristina/Burke love story. Each of their point of views on their relationship and what's happened between them. Sort of drabble fic, but hopefully you'll find it worth reading. J Read/review.
A/n: one chapter for C, one for Burke. This is just drabble fic really, so please be gentle with your reviews. J I hope you enjoy, though!
Date written: December 17th, 2005. Well, December 18th. It's the wee hours of the morning, when, in my opinion, I do my best writing. Or maybe it's just when I happen to like writing the best. J
Burke's POV:
He was starting to figure her out. At least, he thought he was. Cristina didn't like being backed into a corner. If he stepped towards her, no matter how much she wanted it, it was her instinct to push him away. But if he was quiet, silent, and stayed still, maybe, slowly...she might come. He hoped she would, anyway. Watching her was confusing. He was always watching her, and although it took awhile, he was starting to figure out what she was.
He had given her the coffee as an invitation. He had wanted to know her. Yes, he was attracted to her physically, and that first time had been mind-blowing. But that hadn't been all he wanted. He wanted to get to know her, to hear her, to be able to observe her mind from thousands of angles. He had known she was...different. She was special. He knew this was important.
For weeks after that first encounter, he had yearned for an insight to who she really was. He had caught glimpses, snatches of light shining through cracks in the insidious wall she had built around herself.
The fear was starting to grow in him, it plagued him like a sickness and weighed down on him like a tumor. She wasn't just not getting closer when he looked for those things. She was getting farther away. He couldn't let her drift away from him, so he separated himself from her, with a feeling coming to him like two people bound together with a rope, when one of them slices through the tough material with the tips of their teeth. It was an incision that had burned through him, and he hated it, he had hated separating himself from her like hairs of a rope or the cells he sliced his way through everyday. He hated it, and he hated himself.
And then the baby had came along. He wished so, so much she had told him. But he knew it wouldn't have eased his pain when the pregnancy ended. The rush of pain, true and unrelenting, that had striken through him when he had read those words on the operating room board. "Yang, C-ectopic pregnancy." Or the fear, the most he'd ever felt in his entire life, when she had collasped in the Operating Room. A preview of that fear had escaped for a moment before she had went down, he had felt a sickness and terror in the deep pit of his stomach when she had answered his questions wrong. He had known, known without doubt, that something was wrong when that happened. And then she had left him, fainting to the floor as his world changed forever.
He knew it wouldn't have changed his own fear to have known about their child, but he still wished she had trusted him to tell him. Because then, he could have helped her. If he could have saved her an ounce of pain, then he knew he could feel complete.
Maybe she had came close to telling him. The sickness flowed through him again, as a memory floated back into his mind.
An excited Cristina, more ecstatic and happy then perhaps he had ever seen her before then, came bouncing into the on-call room He had been distracted, his mind spinning on what he knew he had to do.
"There's something we need to discuss." Six of the hardest words he had ever managed.
Her face had been ecstatic, there was something on her mind now that made her even happier than the surgery. Her face had changed, she was delirious, and a small smile had worked it's way in. She was glowing.
"Yeah," she said, happy, nervous energy brimming from the edges. "Yeah, there is."
Had she been about to tell him? The sickness erupted, he was going to puke, he could feel the pain like his bones had turned to ice. He had dumped her. She...she had been about to tell him. He was sure of it now. She had been about to tell him about their baby, and he had breaken away from her with such decisiveness he knew she had been heartbroken. He remembered her face, full of grace as the smile stayed plastered on. The sound of her voice, sounding broken to his now more experienced ears. "Oh. You're ending this." How she had tried to sound nonchalant, like she was fine with it. But he remembered the pain, the horror of her voice, uncharacteristically soft and light. And the look in her eyes. He was shaking at the memory, knowing what he had done to her.
But things had changed since then. She was living with him, they had a relationship. When he had broken up with her, he had said that it would be easiest to make a "clean break." For once though, the cut he had made hadn't been clean. He had shattered her, sending both of them spiraling in a million directions. The break had been wretching, and even though, he realized they were struggling to fix it, to not only collect the pieces from where he had crushed them under his fist, but to mend them in the right places, so they could be whole again. When he had broken up with her, he had thought that was what was best. What he needed to do. He had not even begun to imagine the full reaction he would put into effect.
He knew he loved her, though. He could feel it when he looked at her, when her face floated into his mind just as he started to relax. The emotions she could evoke in him were mind-blowing. Whether it was hurt, or love, or some strange combination of the two, it was bigger than anything he had ever known. He knew the obstacles weren't over. The fears she had confessed to him, she didn't know what they were doing. They thought different ways, they believed different things. They had virtually nothing in common besides their profession. But he was fine with that. She had taken his life by storm in a way he never could have imagined, from their first moments together, conversing about harvesting after the bike race or him learning about her care towards patients from watching her with Liz. Everything she did was so big and heartwrenching, and he could feel her existence coinciding with him as easily as his mind thought or his lungs breathed. He looked down at her sweet head pressing against his shoulder and chest, and felt her soft hair against his face. He didn't know 100 what they were doing. But he knew it was not only right, it was what...Was.
author's note: Well, I haven't even reread what I've written for this fic, but I think it turned out okay. Cristina's POV is coming soon. Review, even if you didn't like it, because I want to know what I can do better. Thanks a lot! I'll try to get the other chapter for Cristina done when I can! ;)