Hey everyone! I'm an Italian writer and this is my first fanfic, so please don't be cruel :D

I'm sorry, these fantastic characters don't belong to me :( a bit of inspiration and spoilers from ep. 3x03 (Informed Consent). Review and let me know if you like it! :)

DAMAGED

He was damaged, she knew it. Furthermore, he was older than her, more than two decades were between them. He was insufferable, sarcastic, bitter,

unpredictable, immature. He was damaged physically, he was 'an arrogant cripple', as everyone described him. He was emotionally damaged too, the "love of his

life" had taken medical decisions while he was in a coma after an infarction in his right leg's muscle. The doctors said the treatments she proposed would have

caused him chronic pain, she didn't care, she thought she was right. They removed his muscle, the intense pain promptly arrived. She abandoned him, leaving him

to deal with his own sufference, nothing more to tell him. He began taking opiate to cancel his pain, maybe more the one coming from his heart that the one

pulsating through his barely useable leg. He started walking around with a cane, his gait quick but eneven. He went back to his job, he was the best diagnostician

around, he couldn't quit and let people die. In short, he was a git. But she, his immunologist and co-worker, loved him. And those eyes, oh those eyes.. She could

get lost in those blue-greenish glowing iresis. Just his proximity or his smell could drive her crazy. During the differentials that took place in the diagnostics room

she kept studying him, her eyes shifted from his toned back to his agile fingers, often busy writing symptoms on the white board. She had heard him play the

piano once, he was a mesmerizing musician in the same way he was a mesmerizing person in real life. She had told him she felt something for him, he had

answered that everyone liked here, everyone except him. He had added that she was attracted to him just because he was damaged and she was an annoying do-

gooder, a Red Cross nurse. Something broke inside her, she had felt pain at his sight since then. She didn't know he had lied, not only to her but especially to

himself, he was too afraid to hurt or get hurt. He didn't want her to become like him: a misantropic doctor who had lost his faith in the world. Although, as science

claims, 'Nothing is created or destroyed, only trasformed', it was no different for emotions, their relationship was destined to change.

It happened on a sad May evening, she was seeking for comfort in the hospital's chapel, sobbing because of the painful decision she had almost been obliged to

take. She had performed euthanasia, she had killed a man and now the feeling of guilt strangled her. He entered the room thinking 'What an insufferable woman,

she's far too sensitive to be a good doctor', but once again he was lying to himself, his chest hurt while he glared at her. He shifted beside her, she didn't turn to

face him. He gently put his hand on her quaking shoulder, stroking it with his thumb. "I'm proud of you..", he whispered. She shivered, this was maybe his first

real act of tenderness towards her in nearly three years, not that she expected one from her boss, especially from him. Without thinking of the consequences, she

turned to him and slung her arms around his stiffened shoulders. His cane fell to the ground with the same sound he thought he had heard coming from his chest,

from his heart. The invisible walls he had built around it during the years had tumbled down like houses made of cards. He eventually relaxed and responded to her

embrace, gripping her waist and pulling her close against him. He finally understood, everything clicked into place, like in those puzzles he loved to solve. She was

damaged too. She had suffered like him and was the only one who could love him for what he was: an insufferable and arrogant idiot, although a genius, an

amazing doctor and, in some ways, a great man. He loved her, maybe he always had, even though he didn't know if he would ever admit it to her after he found

the courage to admit it to himself. He was sure she could read it in his eyes if only he let her, so he cupped her chin with his hand and tilted her head up to meet

her green ones. Tears of joy finally streaming out of them, because she understood everything too. Their gazes connected, they got lost in each other's emotions.

She asked him again: "Do you like me?". A sparkle flew through his features, a smirk slowly forming on his face. He decided words were not necessary. He bent

closer to her face, the stubble she adored only a mere inch from her cheek. And then it happened, after three years, after the pain, after his lies, after difficulties,

after everything they had been through together, he kissed her. It wast a chast lip-brushing kiss, an innocent one, though the best they had ever experienced in

their lives.