Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy or any characters affiliated with it. This is just written for my own general amusement and no other purpose.
So this is my take on what should have happened at the end of 5.11...
Apologies if the characters are a little off – this is my first ever attempt at writing a Grey's Anatomy fic so I might need a few tries to get them right.
Of Saviours and Mirrors
Its Sod's Law that the first person he's ever felt this drawn to is probably the most stubborn and unyielding woman on the planet -
He sees her standing outside the hospital as he's on his way out and for once in her life she's actually quiet. She's just standing there, looking small and alone.
He winces as a swoop of protectiveness assails him from somewhere deep inside that before Cristina Yang entered his world he thought was gone forever. But no, apparently women don't like being protected.
The hot and cold thing was entirely his fault though- the being professional to being a normal friendly human being ratio still not quite having kicked in yet. He can apologise for hot and cold (if he dares) but saviour complex? Of course he has a saviour complex – it's his job for Christ sakes.
She's wrong on one front however - he's all too aware that she's not the one who needs saving.
****
Cristina starts, feeling a presence beside her. She curses inwardly, really hoping that it isn't Meredith. Please don't let it be Meredith, because she really thinks that the Chief might frown on punch ups in the ambulance bay.
Then she catches a flash of red hair and her breath catches in her throat and she begins to wish she hadn't been so hasty with the wishing...
He's standing next to her staring - just she had been - up at the hulking great hospital building and she's finding it completely infuriating.
"So now you're actively seeking me out to ignore me?" she questions caustically in a vain attempt to hide the insistent stabs of dread inside her telling her that maybe she hasn't managed to scare this one off. Maybe this one will stay...
"If you're looking for the meaning of life then I hate to disappoint you..." he quips, choosing to tactfully sidestep her question.
"Well someone's not so great at the whole listening thing," Cristina snaps, eyes darting about her warily and wondering just what it is about this guy that makes him the people equivalent of a boomerang - always bounces back no matter how hard she pushes him away.
"Someone should know that I'm sorry for how I acted today," he says evenly, apparently impervious to the high decibel shouting.
She surveys him sharply. "Someone needs to butt out and understand that I am not a charity case and I do not need saving."
He nods slowly. "You're absolutely right."
"Well-"she begins, before realising that he has actually conceded the point to her and unfortunately there is no longer any need to be confrontational. "What?"
"You're right," he repeats. "You are definitely not a charity case, you don't need saving and you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself."
"Thank you," she frowns a little disconcerted that he caved so easy.
"It's just - just that the look in your eyes today," he begins falteringly, unsure he's really ready to go there with her but equally sure that he doesn't want to be someone she has to run from or push away.
"-the look in your eyes today, it reminded me of what I see when I look in the mirror. I can't pull myself out so I guess I tried to pull you instead."
Cristina raises her head slowly, not really expecting his admission.
She reaches for his hand, fingertips tentatively grazing his palm, and he reaches back.