Nights of Tranquillity
written by greyeyedgirl
Disclaimer: Um, no this is not affiliated with Grey's Anatomy. I'm a 14-year-old trumpet player who is obsessed with Grey's Anatomy and prefers writing fanfic at one o'clock in the morning to sleeping.
Author's Note: EXTREME drabble fic, also pretty short. Like I said, it's 1:15 in the morning, and I can't sleep, which is super fantastic because I have to get up in four hours.
Summary: Cristina thinks about the baby she lost during the middle of the night. Cristina and Burke ff.
It wasn't cold, exactly, but she couldn't stop shivering. Burke's arm was draped loosely around her, his face calm through his deep slumber. She carefully wiggled out of his embrace, sitting up in bed, taking hold of one of the blankets covering them. Rain was beating against the building, but it was quiet. It might have come off peaceful, if it were not a blatant reminder of the storm going on inside her.
She stood up, taking the blanket with her. Burke was still slightly covered with the other one, and she carefully tucked it over his bare shoulders, letting her fingers rest for a moment on his skin.
She stumbled quietly into the living room, taking a seat on the couch and drawing the blanket to her chin. This was when the memories were most clear.
She had planned on getting an abortion, yes. But it would have taken two attempts at the very least.
It hadn't smelled like a doctor's office. There was a vase with white flowers (daisies, maybe?), some of the petals were missing. It stood out in the middle of the large white waiting room. It shouldn't have, everything else sort of blended together in a sea of blank paper and hospital gowns. White was a funny color. Emptier than black.
She was the only one in the room, except for a soft-looking receptionist, protected behind a layer of glass, and a redheaded girl that looked barely old enough to be out of high school. The girl caught Cristina staring, and looked up, trying to smile. Cristina looked away.
"Cristina? Cristina Yang?" A nurse had come through the door that led to a hallway, and was looking expectant. Cristina stared at her, not sure what to do. "Um," she said, standing up. "I came by, but I was just about to tell the receptionist, I have to reschedule. Something came up."
The details had been taken care of quickly, and Cristina had rushed out of the building. This was one day before Burke had broken up with her.
Cristina could hear herself breathing hard, and didn't realize until her face was wet that she was crying. She tried to make herself be quiet, not wanting to wake up Burke, but it was hard.
If Burke hadn't broke up with her, she wouldn't have planned on heading back. But he had, and she had planned on it. What other choice did she have? She was an intern, she literally worked close to 18 hours a day. She barely had time to shower, when would she have time to take care of a kid? And there was Burke to think about. Obviously, he would find out, and then what? He'd get back together with her immediately, but she would have known it was just because of the baby.
Cristina felt tired, and Cristina when she was tired came up with some odd stuff. Her mind was whirring, and in her exhaustion a scenario popped into her head. What if Burke hadn't broken up with her? What if she never miscarried? She'd be in her fifth month by now, close to her sixth. The baby would have a sex. She wondered blatantly what it would have been. Both were surprisingly easy to picture. A little boy, the splitting image of his father. Or a little girl, sweet and smart with a heart wrenchingly sweet face. Burke would have taken her back by her sixth month. They might even be picking out names. Preston? After Burke? Maybe. Or McKayla. That was her very favorite name. She liked 'M's.
Stop it. She had to stop playing 'what-ifs.' She hated what-ifs. They were unreal, unfactual, they had no place in the real world. In her world. What-ifs didn't matter. They did no good.
The rain was beating harshly at the building. Soft as it was, it was scary. It was the little things that could cause the most destruction, the most heartache. A drop of rain. A cup of coffee.
A key.
She was crying again, but she didn't know why. Sometimes the sheer volume of emotion swirling inside her was overwhelming. She was so full, but came off so empty. Like a fat person trying to suck it in.
"Cristina?" She spun her head around, her shoulders clinching. "Hi," she whispered, brushing away at her tear.
He sat down next to her on the couch, snuggling close, a look of concern on his face.. He brought his hand up, gentling taking hers away from her face. He was the one who wanted to wipe away her tears.
"Why are you crying?" He sounded sad. His hand felt so soft on her face. Like the clouds, in Heaven. Why was she thinking of that? She didn't even believe in heaven. Did she? Maybe she was already in it.
He brought her closer, and she buried her head in his chest. "I love you, Burke." Woah! Why had she said that?
His arms were around her, his face in her hair. "I love you too, Cristina." His voice had never sounded quite like that. She decided she liked it.
"Don't cry." He sounded insistent, but his voice was infinitely soft. They made the tiny hairs growing deep, deep inside her ear dance.
"I'm not anymore." And she wasn't. "Why were you?" His eyes looked down into hers, and the beauty of them encompassed her.
"I think I miss the baby." She didn't like it when her voice came out all whisper-y like that. She didn't like the eruption of more tears, either.
He laid down on the couch, bringing her with him. "Do you want to have a baby?"
She was silent for a moment. "I don't know." She paused. "Maybe someday. With you."
He smiled, his lips reaching her forehead. "Okay."
How could he always know where she was, and when to come find her? Wandering in the dark, (or was it just that her eyes were closed?) she knew if she reached she could find him. They both wanted out of the darkness, not necessarily into pure white, but at least somewhere where there could be some sunshine. They were each other's sun. Providing not just light, but warmth. You couldn't survive without the sun.
"I love you, Cristina." How could she have been the one to say it first? She, who couldn't even decide if she was ready to live with him. She was scared something would go wrong, and the darkness would escalate into iciness. She did love him, though.
His fingers were resting oh-so-softly in her hair, and she felt the rush inside her again as he squeezed her into him. She pulled on the blanket, covering their tired bodies.
They laid like that for several minutes, and the rain stopped beating against the outside. Burke kissed the side of her face tenderly, before picking up her sleeping form and carrying her back into bed.
A/N: This fic was written VERY early in the morning by somebody that was extremely tired, and also eating cold pizza. So be gentle with your reviews. ;P