A Love That Will Never Grow Old

by greyeyedgirl

chapter 7 (wow, this story's going fast!)

a/n: Should be doing my economics homework. Somehow, this is more tempting. Remember, me like-y you review-y. Post how awesome you think I am, and I shall write lots of lovely chapters and stories, so YOU can avoiding doing YOUR homework too:D grins and throws confetti in the air. Hugs to everybodys.

Foxy005 thanks, I hope you like this chapter. Cristina's sis isn't gone yet: )

lukeandlorealilove lol I know, I think I'm getting better w/my cliffhangers. Yayyyy.

Reader1148 lol thank you.

Coldqueen Yes, you loving D.R. made ME love D.R. and now... : ), thanks for reviewing, I love your stories. : )

D0RKY GiiiRL: smile Thanks Lexi, will do. I'll talk to you later on Jade! Check it out, I made some new icons on there: ) This chapter's dedicated to you:D

His girlfriend was eluding, eschewing, and most of all evasive. He watched her silently as she stood, her back to him, in the kitchen of their apartment, her hands fiddling with the coffee maker.

"You should be in bed," he said. She turned around, her eyes wide for a moment, before giving off a rough-sounding cough. "Yeah," she said throatily. "I'm going back right now. Just...thirsty, that's all."

He walked forward, kissing her forehead. "There's juice in the fridge, that should help your throat. I'll pick you up some antibiotics on the way home from work, 'kay?" He turned from her for a moment, and Cristina brought her hands up quickly to her face to lick them fervently. Preston turned back to her, and she smiled at him, a wide, weak-looking smile. "You look a little pale."

Cristina did the cough again. "Yeah," she said, his voice delicately soft. "I feel a little clammy, too."

Burke took her hands, falling perfectly into the plan. "Oooh. You are clammy."

Cristina managed a weak smile.

Burke leaned forward quickly to kiss her cheek. "Well, there's stuff in the fridge, have whatever you want, I'll try to be home soon." He rubbed his fingers absent-mindedly through her hair, looking worriedly into her eyes.

Cristina let off a light laugh. "Burke! It's not big deal, just a virus." She smiled up at him, but her eyes gave everything away.

Burke squinted at her for a moment, but smiled, kissing her again, this time on her forehead. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you soon. I'll call you," he added as an afterthought. She smiled benignly back at him, and he slid through the door to the hallway, coffee in hand. "I love you," he called back to her over his shoulder, closing the door behind him.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Ashley sat in her hospital bed, restlessly fidgeting, her feet jumping restively against the scratchy sheet.

Derek strolled in quickly, his hair flopping down just slightly over his forehead. "Morning, Ashley," he said, smiling at her.

She grinned back, her hair jumping as she bounced lightly on the bed. "Morning. What's up?"

"Well, your parents should be back in here any minute, I told them they should go get some coffee right after I talked to them. Long night." He winked at her.

"Yeah. Long night." Her voice had a slight echoing quality, but her smile was sincere enough. Derek frowned suddenly, looking down at the skinny leg revealed by Ashley's hospital gown. "Is that from your fall?"

"What?" Ashley attempted to bend down to see what he was talking about, but stopped when her IV shook.

"You're bruised." Derek placed his fingers lightly on a large spot on her leg.

"Oh. Yeah. It's from the fall. I landed on one of Jordan's toys, it was laying on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Jordan's my sister."

Derek smiled lightly at her, but his eyes were squinted a bit. He forced his smile to look brighter. "Oh, I forgot to mention. We had to adjust your meds a bit, so it won't interfere with what medication you were already on. Ritalin, right?"

Ashley looked up, the smile faltering for the first time. "Yeah," she said. "For my ADHD."

Derek smiled at her, taking in her expression. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Ashley."

Ashley's voice was quiet. "I was only diagnosed last year. It was Hell."

Derek was prevented from replying by the opening of the door just behind him. A short man came in, with short hair that curled wildly just like his daughters', a small boy in his arms. A pale looking woman came in after him, carrying a small girl with long curls. "Ashley!" She exclaimed.

"Hey, Mom."

"We've been so worried about you," Mr. Reynolds said, moving closer to his middle daughter. "But Dr. Shepherd said you'd be okay?" He trailed off inquisitively.

"With the surgery and proper antibiotics, Ashley should be fine." Derek smiled at all of them.

"I'm so glad. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to my little girl." Mrs. Reynolds moved to pat Ashley's hair, but Ashley moved away. "Why didn't you say anything when you fell?"

Ashley shrugged. "It was no big deal. I just tripped. I trip all the time."

Mrs. Reynolds made a gasping noise like a sob, and went to squeeze Ashley's hand. Ashley quickly moved her hands out of the way, making it seem accidental, grabbing for the book on the small table right beside her bed.

Derek watched Ashley questioningly, as Mr. Reynolds took Jordan from his wife and gave her a smile.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Preston Burke stood inside the on-call room, pacing, indecisive. He hated being indecisive. He wanted answers, he wanted them now!

He was worried about his girlfriend, and there was nothing he could do to make her open up to him. He ran his hands over his hair distractedly, lost in his own thoughts. Cristina had battled pregnancy pains and a horrible miscarriage, a painful surgery and a stress-filled recovery, but she had still strolled into the third-floor locker room at 5:15 every morning. And now, a virus, this little virus, was making her stay home?

She had looked sick, he reasoned. Her face was pale, her voice quiet, her hands clammy. The hands were what shook him. Only sick people felt like that.

He threw himself down on the small cot in the corner, burying his head in his hands. People did not start bawling in the shower for no reasons, nor did they have horrible nightmares that made them tremble and shake. Something was going on, and he wanted to know what. She was his girlfriend, goddammit, and he loved her. Why couldn't she just let him?

xXxXxXxXxXx

They called them shrinks for a reason, Cristina decided. Well. Everything had a reason, but this one had been staring at her straight in the face. They called them shrinks, because the 'doctor' in question would stare at you obliteringly as you rambled on, analyzing your feelings like they were something you could analyze, capture a precedent for, explain explicitly in Bic and white.

Then, as they were staring at you, feeling superior just like she did when she stared down at a patient, you would feel their vibrations of cockiness, making you protestant and more importantly, about three inches tall. They attempted to shrink you bad feelings, to squash them, but really they blew them up like a dangerous balloon, only shriveling the small person inside the body, making the thoughts confused and restless.

Damn psychiatrist. She had hated him. Dr. Holloway.

He had tried to make her open up, which with Cristina Yang was always a bad idea. He'd wanted her to remember what had happened, and out of all the help that small girl had needed, remembering was the one thing that was not on the list.

Damn psychiatrist! Damn father.

Damn coffee.

There was her safenet. Burke and his damn coffee.

Yet it had been with him that had brought it all up again. She had finally been starting to minutely relax, and it had all sprung up on her like a volcano erupting, spewing hot lava all over the place, causing only pain and destruction. Nothing good could result out of a volcano eruption, could it? It even destroyed the little things, the small lives growing solemnly down the mountains.

She wanted to kill her damn father, destroying what small self she'd had at two, and more importantly, making her miss work.

Goddamn him.

She threw a book across the room. It was Burke's copy, an immaculate copy of "Lord of the Flies." What was Burke doing with Lord of the Flies, anyway? What was he, in ninth grade?

And now she was taking her frustrations out on her boyfriend. She rolled off the couch, hunching over towards the book, and cramming it back into its place on the bookshelf. She knocked Burke's copy of A Tale of Two Cities hazardly onto the floor. There was something oddly satisfying about that, so she did it again, this time with A Christmas Carol.

Burke was going to be annoyed when he got home.

Cristina groaned loudly to herself, slouching back over to the couch and hiding her head under the blanket. She shrieked loudly, throwing the blanket off of her. Burke's couch now smelled like George.

Author's note: (stop whining, you know you love them). I finished this chapter right after "What Did I Do To Deserve This?" aired, so I had to incorporate Burke and Cristina's new...eh...roommate...into the story. :P Anyway, it seems I have taken a break from studying. Woahhhh, wait. Does it count as a break if you don't actually start it?

Fine. So, I had a delay in my studying. So now I shall have to go do my economics homework, because I have to leave in 3 hours.

Pshhhh. Who am I kidding. I'm going to write chapter 8. :D