The harsh shrill of the alarm woke Cristina from a deep nightmarish sleep and her hand flew down against Burke's chest as she woke with a start.
Burke jumped under her touch and looked up to see her sitting straight up in the bed, sweating lightly, seemingly gasping for air and his blood ran cold, "Cristina...baby, you okay?"
She couldn't get sick again.
She nodded her head, leaning against him, "Sorry...I didn't mean to scare you, it was just...y'know, the alarm scared me." deciding against telling him her nightmares of never being able to go back to work and just being his housewife for the rest of her life.
It made her heart ache that such a thing seemed like a death sentence to her.
He pulled himself up in bed next to her, and placed a kiss against her forehead, "I have to go to the hospital and do some things this morning."
"Will you bring me a suture kit?" she asked, her eyes lighting up a bit.
"I told you if you wanted another one that you were going to go the hospital and get it yourself." he sighed, wishing she'd lay off for just one day.
She looked at him, hurt apparent in her eyes, "You want me to go back to the place that I can't work at, and wander through the halls, stare at the surgery board, and go through the supply closet to get my own suture kits while you do what? A consult, a visit into the OR?"
He pressed his lips together, "I have to pick up some things and sign off some charts to Dr. Hahn so that she can follow my patients that were scheduled for procedures this week, and I have to establish my schedule for the next few weeks until I'm sure you're fine."
"I'm not a child." she muttered, sliding out of the bed and pulling his Tulane shirt from her body, searching for clean clothes naked and in front of him.
He swallowed hard and thought for a moment about putting in her in a better mood, but he knew that wouldn't help right now. "I never said you were."
"You think you have to take care of me."
"That's what a husb-" he cut himself off abruptly. "A boyfriend does." he finished, clearing his throat.
She looked up to him, hearing what he had said, and then turned away from him, pulling on a pair of pink panties, then pulling on a pair of worn jeans, pretending not to hear him.
Was he in some sort of sick fantasy land where she was his wife and he was taking care of her, and she was sick and feeble and vulnerable.
Reality seemed so twisted to Cristina anymore, she couldn't tell what was real from what was dreams and nightmares, time crawled by at a rate much slower than she'd ever experienced.
For the first time in her life she didn't have anything to do, and her reality was closing in on her quickly.
"I'm going to the hospital." she finally muttered, pulling on her favorite green sweater over a tank top.
He nodded, his face expressionless, his feelings hurt, his ego bruised.
Burke didn't know what was worse, knowing that she'd heard his slip-up, or the fact that she didn't even acknowledge it.
They'd connected last night, or so he thought. After they'd made love, he thought everything would return to normal, or as normal as could be. She'd even given him hope last night through words.
But now, he was beginning to wonder if it wasn't some sort of false reassurance.
His eyes followed her into the bathroom, as she ran her fingers through her hair, the mess of curls taming easily under her manipulation, and he felt more sadness pull at him.
He let out a long exhale and stood from the bed, following her into the bathroom, "Do you want to get some breakfast this morning?" he kissed the back of her head.
"No...I just want to go there and get back here. I didn't practice last night. I probably forgot half of everything I taught myself." she muttered, wandering away from him and into the kitchen.
A number of envelopes on the counter caught her eye and she fingered through them.
It was bills.
Utilities, rent, renter's insurance, car insurance, her bike insurance, her student loan company; all sealed and ready to go. All with checks made out in the appropriate amounts to the appropriate companies.
All of the checks from his checking account.
"Burke, what the hell is this?" she questioned him, her blood boiling with anger.
He caught her glance with an eyebrow raised, "They're bills, Cristina."
"But my bills...they're your checks, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"You're pretty tapped out from the hospital expenses and I know that you wouldn't want to call your mom and ask for money...you're over reacting."
She threw the bills down to the counter and grabbed her bag, "This, Burke? This is what I'm talking about! I can't be this needy dependent woman. I can't let you pay for my bills, or handle my finances. I can't do this..."
It took everything in her not to break down.
She'd become the antithesis of Cristina, "You will not pay those bills, I'll handle them myself." she muttered, pulling at the door.
"Where are you going?" he questioned her, "I'm not ready yet..."
"I'm taking my bike." she replied angrily and pulled the door shut hard behind her.
"Cristina!" he called after her, yanking the door open again, "You can't take your bike!"
She spun on her heel to face him, "Really? I can't...do I need you to ride behind me to make sure that I'm okay? Do I need training wheels?"
He threw his hands down to his side in frustration and closed the door, his eyes falling on the bills on the counter, "Dammit."
All he wanted to do was take care of her.
A/N: Yes, there's more. And Beachcrew is mean. :)