By greyeyedgirl
Summary: Burke and Cristina deal with the decision of getting another surgery to fix his hand, and the events that follow. Pure fiction.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
PrologueIf
I lay here…
If I just lay here…
Will you lie with me, and
just forget the world…
He didn't know how to describe how she looked when he entered her hospital room, having peeked in on his way out and seen the room was finally empty again except for her mother.
Before she saw him, he could see the fury in the way she shook, seeing her staring into space, lost into nothingness. Her eyes slid upwards as he entered the room, before sliding back down to once again see something he could not see. Burke forced a smile, the surrender of her actions, the absolute just not caring, causing a slow burning to make its way into his chest, grabbing at his heart and sliding its jagged fingernails into the not-tough-enough muscle.
His instinct was to touch her, he felt his fingers dance down to rub her soft hair. Looking at her hair he felt a painful rush of irony in him; like her, it usually drove him crazy and made him laugh, but right now it was laying limply, all hope given up as it attempted to crush itself into the pillow.
"She doesn't want to be touched!" Helen Rubenstein's voice said, her exasperated irritation with her only daughter ringing through every syllable. The sudden unwanted noise caused Cristina's heavy breathing to return, he looked back down at her briefly, glanced at her mother, and back to Cristina.
We don't need…
Anything…
Or anyone…
Crawling into bed with her, Burke caressed her hair softly, letting the pain of their loss, the fear of falling in love, and the pain of salt slicing into an old wound drift away.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx