Disclaimer: I don`t own any of Shonda`s characters, just borrowing, hope that`s ok.
A-N: I was rewatching some old seasons, and put on some fanfic glasses. This is the result. Hope you will enjoy!
Ps. I`d love to find out what you think!
The absence of hope.
'She`s got my McDreamy… And my McDog… She`s got my McLife. And what have I got?'
You want to scream it to her. How blind she is. How much she doesn't see. But you said you`d be supportive. So you just sit there, as she goes on, speaks about how she needs a sign, about the absence of hope. You know all about that. The absence of hope. You've known since you were 9, and you felt your father`s heart stop beating. You've known when you finally admitted to yourself how you felt about your best friend, why she was your person, why she made your heart stop beating so fast, why you let her in. You know.
And here she is, once again, telling you about this man who is not worthy of her. Telling you about the McBastard that lied and betrayed her. The McAss who holds her heart, while she holds yours. While she holds yours and is blind.
You have wondered many times what it is about her. You know George loves her, you see it in his bambi-eyes, following her around. You see it because you recognize it. Of course you are not as obvious as he is. You are Cristina Yang. You don't fawn, you don`t drool, you don`t stare. And yet you've caught your eyes following her as well, in the hallways. Yet you have caught yourself staring at her hands when she, flawlessly, performs a procedure, admire the slender fingers as she ties, without problem, a difficult knot on a stitch. You`ve always had a thing for talent, for ambition, for greatness. And despite everything, despite her McLove for her McDouche, Meredith has it all. She is the first person who has overthrown you, overwhelmed you, like this. You have never felt, never allowed yourself to feel, anything even remotely close.
Yes, you like Burke, but he is not your Person. He is not even your McDreamy. He offers you something she can`t give you. And still you can`t get yourself to trust him. Sometimes you feel guilty, know he deserves to be someone`s McSomething. But he seems to accept the way you hold your distance. Respects you in a way that commands respect from you in return. You two seem to have an understanding. So you hold onto him like you do to everything in your life. You`ll stay until he gets sick of you, or, more likely, you get sick of him. You stay until the moment it will get hard and then you`ll run. Maybe… Maybe not…
Things are different now. Since you met her. Things are… More real. You feel them, together with the pacing of your heart when you catch sight of her, the swirling in your abdomen when you touch her, the lightheadedness when you smell her. You feel the things you have never allowed yourself to feel. Now. Because of her. But that means you also feel the pain of her love for someone else.
You stare for a moment, at her moving mouth, at those lips, speaking of how she has nothing, and suddenly anger gets a hold of you. You pull off the blankets, tell her everyone has problems, tell her to get up. You touch her. You tell yourself you have to, that you can`t get her out of bed without it. You tell yourself a lot of things. That the sensation of your palms on her ribcage have no effect on you, that the way you pull her towards you had no ulterior motive. But then you see her eyes, the blue turmoils of emotion, the pain inside of her. And everything shifts. She feels like she might die today, and suddenly, you know, even more clearly than you did before, that you could not go on without her.
`Meredith.`
Her lips are soft, and taste salty… of tears. It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to figure out they are not hers, but yours. You feel her hand on your cheek, in your hair, pulling you closer. The tip of her tongue tentatively grazes the inside of your upper lip and you moan. The kiss deepens, and so do your feelings for her. You thought that impossible, but she always has been able to prove you wrong.
It takes a while for your mouths to detach, the blue of her eyes has turned to turquoise, a color you have only seen when she feels… everything. You wonder what she reads in yours. You try to catch your breath but when she smiles she takes it away again.
`Okaaay.`
She draws out the word, as if it has no end, but the twinkle in the turquoise isn`t mocking. You feel her heart pounding against your chest, taking over the rhythm of yours.
You step back, the sensations overwhelming, and look down as you mumble the words.
`You should get ready.`
She clears her throat. And in your mindeye you can just see her confusion, see her hurt, but you don`t look up, and hear the rustle of clothes, hear the sounds of her obeying you.
Before she exits, however, you grab her wrist. Turn her around. You are Cristina Yang. You are not afraid…
You are terrified.
But when your eyes catch hers, you know no words are necessary. That`s the thing. She is your person. She gets you. Half a word –or in this case kiss.- is usually enough to make her understand.
`Meredith?`
`Yeah?`
Her eyes smile, the agonizing fear that was there only moments before, diluting as you watch. You feel her relax as you pull her closer.
`Don`t die today.`
And with a soft peck on her lips, you pull her towards the door.
THE END