A/N: So I realize that it's literally been four years since I published the original Protege oneshot, but I was cleaning out my Google Drive and found the start to the second chapter, and I couldn't help myself from picking it back up. Obviously this is all so AU now that it's almost laughable, but if you're interested I've got a handful of other fics in this universe that give it more context. Also, quick disclaimer that this isn't humorous like the first chapter, but I think that it continues the idea well.

Her mother said he went to be with God. Her father said his heart stopped, so his body stopped working. Zola said "He was old. He died. He's gone and he's not coming back," and her Aunt Amelia scolded her.

Then the night after he died, her Nana said the most interesting thing of all.

"If Cristina Yang would just hurry up she'd have finished printing that heart by now, and maybe Richard would still be alive."

And for some reason she couldn't put her finger on, Clara felt her own heart jump in excitement at that. She knew from her Aunt Meredith that there were special printers that could print things that aren't flat, things that they can put inside people's bodies to make them better, but a heart?

There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many things she wanted to know, but before she could even open her mouth her grandmother buried her head in her hands and her father sent her to go put her pajamas on and wait for him to tuck her in, and she remembered what her mother taught her about appropriate times to ask questions and kept her mouth shut.

That night she dreamt about printed hearts. She dreamt of a huge room full of machines, each one printing a heart, dinging when it's finished so a doctor in full scrub will come pick it up and run off with it. Overlooking the room was a woman Clara felt like she knew. Her eyes scanned over each printer, as if she'd be able to catch even the tiniest imperfection from the balcony she stood on. Then they stopped, landing on Clara, and her mouth twisted into a small, smug smile.

But when Clara blinked the face looking down at her became her mother's, rousing her from sleep.

"Good morning sugarplum," her mother said, with a twinge of sadness in her normally chipper voice.

"Morning Mama," Clara yawned, sitting up and wiping the sleep from her eyes while her mother turned her attention towards rifling through Clara's closet to find her something to wear.

"We have to leave a little early today, so I need you to go brush your teeth and come right back to get dressed, okay? Daddy and I have to go take care of some things with Nana Catherine so you and your brother are going to spend the day with Uncle Alex and Auntie Jo."

Clara nodded, hopping out of bed and going to do what her mother asked of her. She wanted to tell her mother about her dream, about the hearts, but they were in such a rush that she never got the chance. Between getting dressed and eating her breakfast while her father braided her hair, the words just got lost in Clara's mind, and she knew that she should save her questions for later.

Later came that afternoon while her brother and twin cousins, Janey and Adam, napped. She was too old for that now- nearly seven years old. So she sat in the kitchen while her Auntie Jo made lunch, and it finally felt like an okay time to ask questions.

"Auntie Jo," Clara began, "is it possible to print a heart?"

Her aunt paused with her back to Clara, her hands going still. Then she set aside the knife she had been using to slice up apples and turned to face the little girl.

"It's not possible to print a whole grown-up heart yet," Jo explained, "but sometimes you can print part of a heart. So if someone's heart just has one broken piece, you might be able to print a new one of that piece and fix their heart."

"But my Grandpa needed a whole new heart, didn't he?"

"Yeah sweetie, he did."

Now her aunt Jo came to sit next to Clara at the island, putting an arm around her shoulders. Clara leaned into her embrace, but she wasn't done asking questions yet. Her mind was still buzzing, her own heart pounding with excitement at finally getting some answers.

"My Nana was talking about printing a whole heart," Clara explained to her aunt, "a real working one that would have made my Grandpa still alive. Do you think it could happen?"

"Sweetie, your Grandpa's whole body was very tired. Even if they could have printed him a new heart, there were other parts of his body that weren't working the right way anymore. When we get old our bodies get very tired, and eventually they can't keep going. Your Grandpa's body couldn't keep going anymore."

Clara sighed, she knew that… kind of. She knew that everybody died someday. The actual mechanics of it were still a little confusing, but it was like Zola said- people got old, and they died. But that didn't change the curiosity that her Nana had sparked when she mentioned printing whole new hearts from scratch.

"Auntie," Clara said after a short silence, "Who's Cristina Yang?"

A small smile lit her Aunt's face,

"Cristina Yang is one of the best doctors in the whole wide world. She saved your cousin's life when she was a baby."

A memory from the back of Clara's mind came forward then. It was summer, and her mother had taken her and her cousins to the lake to go swimming. And when Janey had taken off the t-shirt covering her swimsuit, Clara had noticed the long scar that ran down the center of her chest. Later her mother would explain that Janey had been very sick when she was a baby. Her heart didn't work properly, and she had to have a surgery…

"She made Janey a new heart," Clara realized out loud, "Mama said that Janey needed a new heart when she was a baby. She made Janey a heart?"

"That's right, Janey got the very first printed heart, ever. Now Dr. Yang has made hearts for lots of babies, and she's starting to make them for older kids too. Someday she probably will make a whole grown-up heart, but she can't do that yet."

"My Nana was sad that she couldn't make Grandpa a heart."

Her Aunt Jo didn't say anything to that, just cuddled Clara closer to her. Sometimes, Clara noticed, grown-ups did that when they didn't want to talk about things anymore. Her Daddy used to do it when she asked when her Grandpa would get better.

"Can I have some apple?" Clara asked finally. She wanted more answers, but maybe her aunt wasn't the right person to ask.

"Of course," her aunt replied, giving Clara a quick kiss on the forehead and rising to make her a plate of the apple slices she had been cutting up before.

At the same time, there was the sound of little feet padding down the hallway. Janey had awoken early from her nap, wandering into the kitchen in search of her mother. Peeking just above the tank top she was wearing was part of the long scar Clara remembered. She watched the little girl with fascination. She could walk, talk, do everything any other kid could do. All of that with a heart that wasn't even a real to begin with. A heart that had been printed in some lab somewhere, swapped out for her broken one.

It was beyond incredible. This Cristina Yang person, whoever she was, was beyond incredible.

Over the next couple of days, Clara didn't ask any more about the hearts. She wanted to- more than anything -but her parents were so busy and always looked worried, or sad, or tired. One night her Daddy even fell asleep in her bed with her while he was reading her a bedtime story. Even though she was a big girl now and could sleep on her own, Clara decided that she would let him stay anyway. She curled up against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating until she fell asleep too.

Then, a few days after her Grandpa had died and everyone started looking sad and worried, her Mama took her shopping for a new black dress to wear.

"We're going to have something called a wake," she explained on the car ride to the mall, "People who knew your Grandpa are going to come and visit to pay their respects and say goodbye."

Clara couldn't help but wonder if Cristina Yang would be there, but she didn't ask. Instead, she protested the color of her dress. Her Grandpa always liked to see her in yellow, not black. For her last birthday he had bought her a new yellow dress with hair ribbons to match.

But Clara's mother said that people wore black to wakes, because it showed that they were sad and they missed the person who had died. Clara did miss her Grandpa, but it still felt strange to think about. The whole part of thinking about him never coming back was too much for her to worry about when she still had so many questions about the hearts. When the sad thoughts about him came up she just thought about them instead, and she didn't feel as sad anymore. So she just had to keep thinking about the hearts.

That was what she did at the wake.

Or, at least, what she tried to do.

Her mother made her wear the black dress, but she braided the yellow ribbons into her hair too. Clara had insisted that it was what her Grandpa would have wanted. Her Daddy said that her Grandpa would have been proud of how grown up Clara was being, but she didn't feel very grown up as she clung to his side and silently observed all of the people coming and going. They all stopped to talk to her Daddy, to say they were sorry, and some of them tried to talk to Clara too. She just hid her face against her Daddy's shirt when they did that, even when it was her Auntie Arizona.

There were just so many people everywhere. How had her Grandpa known all of them? It was giving Clara a headache to see them all, all of these strangers acting like they knew her Grandpa so well. What did they know?

She was almost jealous that her little brother, only a year old, got to stay home with a babysitter.

One old lady who had been talking to her Daddy crouched down to Clara's level to compliment her hair ribbons, and when her Daddy reminded her to say thank you Clara found herself beginning to cry instead. The lady just smiled at her and walked away, but then her Mama swooped in and took Clara by the hand,

"Let's go sit down for a little bit Sugarplum," she said, leading Clara away from her father before she could protest. The little girl wanted to- remembering her father's heartbeat made her feel safe in the crowd of strange people -but she knew that it would just get her into trouble. So she followed her Mama to a quieter room with some chairs set up, accepting the packet of crackers that appeared from her purse. Her Daddy said that they could go get waffles after this was all done- a special breakfast for dinner treat. The crackers were just to keep her tummy happy until then. It sort of felt like it was being squished when all of the people were around her.

"It's okay to be sad Cece," Clara's mother told her, tucking a stray hair out of her face, "I know you miss Grandpa."

Clara didn't reply. She did miss her Grandpa, but she hadn't cried because she was sad, it just made her nervous having that strange lady talking right in her face. And it was too hot in that room, she was so hot she couldn't focus on thinking about anything else. Not even the hearts.

This new room was cooler, and there were only a few people scattered around it. They spoke quietly, none of them paying Clara or her mother any attention. That was what made Clara brave enough to ask her question.

"Mama, why couldn't anybody fix Grandpa's heart?"

"Oh sweetie," her Mama sighed, putting her arm around Clara the same way her Auntie Jo had, "it isn't that easy. I wish it was. Surgery is hard on a person's body, even a healthy person. Grandpa's body wasn't healthy anymore, so he couldn't have a surgery."

"Not even to put a whole new heart in?"

"Not even if he had a whole new heart to put in."

Clara bit her lip to stop herself from saying that maybe someday someone would be able to print whole new hearts for grown-ups. Maybe then it would be different than it was now.

She didn't ask any more questions, but let her Mama cuddle her to her chest. Then she could hear her heartbeat too, and that made her feel better. It sounded like her Daddy's- nice and strong. Clara tried not to wonder what would happen if someday it stopped working like her Grandpa's had.

It was unclear to the little girl how much time had passed before she saw her father enter the room with a woman she didn't know, but who somehow seemed familiar. Her Mama definitely recognized the woman, because she practically leapt out of her seat to go greet her.

"Cristina! I didn't know you were coming."

Her mother greeted the woman with a hug, and Clara froze in her seat.

Cristina?

Did she mean Cristina Yang?

"Cece, come here," Clara's Daddy said, waving her over, "come say hi."

Bashfully, Clara rose from her seat, coming to stand next to her father. He placed a hand on her back, urging her towards the dark haired woman next to him.

"This is your Auntie Cristina," her Daddy explained, "You probably don't remember her, you were just little when she moved away."

Clara tried to step back against his hand, suddenly feeling shy, but then Cristina, Auntie Cristina, held out her hand.

"Hello," she said, "you've certainly grown up since the last time I saw you."

Clara reached out and shook her hand, practically whispering a "hi" in return. Her own heart felt like it might beat out of her chest. She wanted to ask this woman if she was the Cristina Yang she kept hearing about, but her mouth just wouldn't cooperate.

The woman didn't release Clara's hand from the handshake, but held it in her palm instead. She ran her thumb over the knuckles of Clara's fingers, then looked at her Daddy with a smirk,

"She still has perfect hands for cardio," the woman remarked.

Who, me? Clara thought, her breath catching in her chest.

"You wish Yang," her Daddy replied, and Clara felt like she might explode with excitement. He had just called this woman Yang.

As in, Cristina Yang.

Clara's dream about the printers with the hearts came rushing back to her, but now she could place the face of the woman in the dream. She was standing right here in front of her, in reality.

"You're going to be like Daddy and be a plastic surgeon, isn't that right Clara?" Her Daddy asked.

"No," Clara replied. She didn't even look at him. Her eyes were dead set on Cristina Yang as she continued, "I'm going to print hearts too."

Just like in the dream, Cristina looked down at Clara with a small, smug smile.

"I always knew you'd be my little protege," she remarked. Clara didn't know exactly what that word meant, but she nodded in agreement.

"I'll help you print grown-up hearts."

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see her parents' faces drop when she said that. But Cristina Yang's face didn't drop. She crouched down to Clara's level, and she looked her right in the eye when she talked,

"Clara, my hearts can't save everybody. They couldn't have saved your Grandpa. He was going to die no matter what, and now he's gone."

The words felt like ice down her spine.

People had been telling her that for days. They had been telling her that her Grandpa was gone and dead and nothing could save him. But the way her Nana had cried, and what she had said about Cristina Yang, had made Clara think that maybe they could have done something different. Maybe with the right tools, the right heart, they could have saved him.

Now Cristina Yang herself was looking Clara in the eye, and she finally understood that that wasn't true. She blinked back tears, turning her head away in embarrassment.

"Hey, look at me," Cristina said. She took both of Clara's hands in her own, waiting until the little girl met her eye again to continue speaking.

"There are so many other people we can save with these hearts, and do you know why? Because your Grandpa taught me to be a good surgeon. He helped teach me, without him I wouldn't be the surgeon I am today, and I wouldn't be printing hearts like I am now. I couldn't make a heart to save him, but because of him I'm going to be able to save a whole lot of other lives with my hearts. And someday, if you want, you can come help me. I'll teach you just like your Grandpa taught me. Sound good?"

Even though tears were streaming down her cheeks now, Clara nodded. Cristina smiled, a real genuine smile this time, and wiped the little girl's cheeks with her thumbs.

"There we go," she said, "There's no crying in cardio. We're too busy saving lives."

For the first time all day, Clara giggled, and she nodded again. Cristina stood back up to talk to her parents, but Clara didn't listen to what they were saying (even though she thought she heard her Mama tell Cristina that Clara was a little young for the no crying rule). Instead she wrapped her arms around her father again, burying her face back in his side.

But this time she wasn't nervous. Her Daddy lifted her into his arms, and she nuzzled her face into his neck, and she didn't feel like crying anymore. She felt sad, but now it wasn't hopeless. Because even though she knew she was going to keep missing her Grandpa, she knew too that she had something to look forward to.

Thanks to him, and to Cristina Yang, she was going to save a lot of lives.

Just... not quite yet.