A Love That Will Never Grow Old
by greyeyedgirl
Chapter 10-"Stain"
Summary: It will take you like 5 minutes to read this. What's 5 minutes out of your life? Aren't you worth risking 5 minutes if the payoff is some Burke and Cristina goodness? (woahhhhhh, I'm tired, aren't I?)
A/n: Hiiiiiiii. Did you miss me? Sorry, I had to...erm...get some sleep for the past few nights, and THEN, my mom FINALLY got me the GA season 1 DVD, after searching 7 stores, she finally found it at Barnes and Noble. So, obviously, I had to rewatch all the episodes, then the pilot with both commentaries, and the deleted scenes, and...Well. Obviously, it took a while. But hey, no worries, my priorities haven't changed-I'm doing this before I've even cracked open my math book. Wheeeeeeeee.
Now, read, review, love me forever. :D :P
A Love That Will Never Grow Old...chapter 10
The blood on the sheets caused a stain. That was what Cristina said.
Preston Burke had mixed feelings about stains. Sometimes he smiled, tolerably, when he saw one, just because he knew it'd be easy to erase. He liked the idea of being able to clean it. Preston liked to clean.
If he tried, though, to get a stain out, and couldn't, he hated them. He didn't like the idea of working and working, of scrubbing and scrubbing, with no result whatsoever. He didn't want to be...ineffectual.
Burke wanted control of everything in his life, because somehow, he just knew, if he lost control, the results would be catastrophic.
As it turned out, most two-year-olds had an amazing amount of control in their lives. If they didn't want broccoli for dinner, they cried, and McDonalds it was. They wanted a toy, they threw a tantrum in the store aisle, and it was theirs. At two-years-old, Cristina had had no control over her life, and because of this, Burke grieved for her.
Two-year-olds cried for what they wanted. Cristina had cried and cried and cried, and Burke had been able to do nothing for her.
Burke shuddered. He was a surgeon. He was a Cutter, he was a Healer, he was a Cleaner.
He knew how hard it would have been to get a blood stain out of sheets.
XXxXxXxXxXx
"Looks like you're healing up fine."
Ashley looked up, smiling at Dr. Shepherd. "Oh. That's good."
"Your surgery went perfectly, with minor post-op complications. Things keep goin' so well, we might be able to get you out of here by the end of next week."
"That's good." Ashley smiled again, before turning her head back to her book.
"What's on?"
Ashley looked up. "I'm sorry?"
"The TV," Derek said smiling, gesturing towards the animated scene.
"Ohhh...I wasn't really paying attention," Ashley said smiling. She glanced up towards the screen. "Looks like a movie. Oh, I saw this one once. 'Dancing With September.'"
Derek nodded, still smiling. "Sounds cool."
Ashley glanced at him. "Did you need something, Dr. Shepherd?"
"That bruise looks nasty."
Ashley stared. "Sorry?"
"The one on your shoulder."
Ashley quickly readjusted the sleeve of her hospital gown.
"Ummmmmm...I'm going to go to the bathroom."
xXxXxXxXx
"How are you?"
Cristina looked up with the shadow of a guilt on her face. "Hmmm?"
"I asked you how you were doing."
"Oh. Oh! Um...I'm fine. Fi-"
Burke broke in with the glint of a smile that twitched against his face. "Are you stealing charts?"
Cristina opened her mouth to protest, but her voice came out crisp and sharp. "Yes. Now if you excuse me, I have rounds in a minute, and Bailey informed me that the next time I'm late, I'll be doing scut for a week."
Burke rose his eyebrows at her, a small smile on his face, as he watched her snap shut the chart she was holding, and hurry down the hall.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Cristina entered the apartment late that night, closing the door quietly behind her. George wasn't there, he'd mentioned being on-call that night, but as she walked into the living room she was greeted by the sight of Burke laying on his stomach in front of the sofa, his head hidden behind a chair. A vacuum hummed next to him, hurting her ears.
She bent down next to him, slipping her jacket onto the couch. "What are you doing?" She yelled.
He rolled over on his stomach, rubbing the side of her leg unintentionally. "Cleaning," he yelled back over the sound of the vacuum.
Cristina shut off the vacuum with a swift movement of her hand, sitting down next to him on the floor. "Well, stop it."
He sat up so she was almost leaning against him, wrapping his arm gingerly around her. "How are you feeling?"
Cristina sighed quietly. "Burke."
He pulled her closer into him, kissing the side of her head. "Yes."
"I have lived...with what my father did to me...for 24 years. I'm over it."
Burke frowned into her hair, thinking of the nightmares, and the crying, and the distance she put between them. "I wouldn't be. I wouldn't be anywhere near over it. And my job as a boyfriend is to make sure you do get over it, and also make sure you become deliriously happy as I continue to sweep you off your feet."
"Is there anything particular you wanted to get from this conversation, besides making me remember things I don't want to remember and also remind me that I have, never, ever been deliriously happy about...anything?"
"Have you talked to Ashley yet?"
"What?" Cristina's voice had become curiously high-pitched as she let out a small laugh.
"You know," Burke laughed. "Your sister."
"Why would I?"
"Well...because she had radical life-saving brain surgery. And you two are obviously close, she sent you that letter and video tape, and we watched that together, you two must be friends, it was so silly, and you were so happy to hear from her."
"Yeah. Mostly we email. She sends me those tapes, it makes me laugh, her friends...I don't know if we're really close, though." Cristina said doubtfully.
"Well, maybe you should talk to her. See how she's doing."
Cristina frowned skeptically. "That would be kind of weird."
Burke laughed. "She's your sister!"
"I guess."
Burke nudged her slightly. "So will you?"
Cristina glanced up at him. "Will you come with me?"
Burke looked down at her, a little surprised, but smiling. "Sure."
Cristina moved closer to him so she was almost sitting on his lap. "Good."