Cristina had inundated herself with books, banana peels and suture kits spread across their kitchen counter.

She glanced back over to her reference book and back to her hands, trembling and cold. She had worn herself to the bone trying to remember all of the skills she'd acquired in med school in four years in four days.

Little blood spots and scrapes marred her fingers from the numerous accident's she'd incurred trying to suture perfectly through exhaustion, fatigue, and just the lack of ability to do it.

Silently she began to curse Meredith in her head, thoughts of calling her to tell her that she withdrew the acceptance of her apology running through her head.

Thirteen months.

That's how long she'd have to wait to take her shot at being a surgeon again. That's how long she'd have to stay home and suture bananas and wait for her day to be a star again.

That's how long it would be just her and Burke, with him working and bringing home the bacon and her just being there.

Dependent.

Vulnerable.

Weak.

Insufficient.

She tossed down the suture kit on the counter and pressed her forehead to her hands, frustration pulling at her resolve.

"Cristina?"

She looked up to see Burke standing before her, his eyes falling to the pile of sutured bananas, "Have you been up all night?"

She shook her head, "No, I've been up since..." her voice trailed off as she took note of the clock on the microwave. It was 6 am.

She'd woke yesterday at 7:30 am and not been to bed since.

He gathered up the banana peels in his hand and dropped them into the trashcan, throwing away all of her hard work, "You need rest. You can't do this for the next thirteen-"

"Thirteen months, I know. Actually, it's 12 months, 2 weeks and 5 days." she corrected him, her true neuroticism shining through.

"Which means that you have time to take time." he pressed, pulling her away from the counter and into him, "It means that you have time to heal and take care of yourself, it means that we have time to talk about us."

Her heart stopped.

It was the first time he'd brought up their relationship since the day that she'd 'committed' to being a cardiologist, to accepting her fate without fighting.

"What is there to talk about?" she finally uttered, unsure of what to say or where this was going.

Burke felt a heaviness fill him as he examined her, fidgeting with loose threads at the bottom of his Tulane shirt she wore, pulling at them and avoiding his gaze with everything in her.

He kissed the side of her forehead, "I have to go pick some things up from the hospital and write up some charts, I should be home by 10."

"At night?"

"No, this morning. But you should be asleep when I get back, you've been up for nearly 24 hours, you're going to end up with an infection again." he chided her gently, his hands snaking around her back to take hold of her petite waist.

She pulled herself away from him and nodded, "I'm tired."

He jammed his hands into his pockets, his ego bruised and wounded, "Yeah...I'm gonna go. Do you need help getting settled."

"I'm a big girl." she shot back, walking slowly towards the bedroom.

"I love you." he tried desperately to evoke an emotion besides anger or frustration from within her.

"Yeah."

It was to no avail.

He watched helplessly as she fell into their bed, pulled the blankets over her head and brushed him off. His glance dropped into the wastebasket and the bananas he'd carelessly discarded, not taking into account the work that she'd poured into them. He crouched down to pick them out.

There must've been 20 skins, and he examined each suture carefully. They were sloppy, disorganized and erratic, but the stitches were there for the most part.

He carefully separated them out into piles, and came across one banana, examining it closely, it still had the suture needle in it, as well as a small smattering of red against the yellow of the skin.

Then his eyes were drawn to the suture. The reverse stitch that he'd guided her through the other night. She'd obviously been practicing.

The sutures were clean, close together, organized. Perfect considering the condition that she was in just a little over a month ago, when there was no hope for a recovery to her premorbid level of functioning considering the amount of damage done, the muscle deterioration and the trauma to her brain.

But she was doing it.

He couldn't help but smile as he sat the peel back down on the counter and strode into the bedroom, settling himself on the edge of the bed next to her.

Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was uneven, erratic. Not the pattern of someone who was asleep.

"Fake." he mumbled, brushing a menacingly short curl from her face, another reminder that she wasn't the same anymore.

"I'm trying to fall asleep." she replied flatly, not opening her eyes for him.

He brushed his lips against hers, softly at first, then when he felt her respond he deepened the kiss, his hand trailing up her jaw line teasingly.

Both of their minds were drawn to the discharge instructions and exactly how much time was left before they could physically express their love for each other in a way that's always been perfect, that's always come so naturally for them that no circumstance could ruin it.

"Burke..." she breathed slowly, opening her eyes to meet his. "What was that for?"

He planted a cocky grin on his face and raised an eyebrow at her, "I said that I loved you."

She looked down at the blanket, "So that's what that was for?"

It wasn't the response that he wanted to elicit, but at the very least, she did kiss him back. "I saw your reverse stitch...it's good. It's very good." he finally replied.

"It's sloppy." she sighed.

He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it and watched as her eyes slid shut again, "I have to go...I'll be back later."

And he left, his heart aching to give her some sort of encouragement, for her to accept what he could give her.

A/N: Sorry the updates are coming slowly, I'm just working some new ideas for this in my head, and I want to make sure I can get it all to fit. :)