Cristina lay in the bed in her call room, stretching her arms, rotating her wrists, doing everything she could to alleviate the pain that was overwhelming her.
She had pushed herself for the past 9 hours, suturing non-stop, finally mastering the reverse stitch, the near-and-far, and the interrupting stitches. Mastered, in her mind, but she would return to them after working on the next few stitches.
She glanced at her list she had made on a piece of paper lying next to her in the bed, 3 out of 7 stitches. She still had yet to master the mattress stitch, the interlocking stitch, the purse strings, and last but not least, the running stitch.
The running whipstitch.
The stitch that would make it all better, that would make it okay for her to return home, to find herself in his arms once again.
She turned on her phone to check the time, awaiting 9 in the morning to roll around so she could sneak into the apartment and gather some clothing, some shower stuff and return to the hospital unnoticed.
If she saw him in this moment, it would make her weak, and she had no time for weakness.
It was only 4 am, and she knew his phone would be off. That she'd be able to call him, and leave him a message and give him some sort of explanation, or at least let him know she was okay.
She dialed the number to his phone slowly, unsure of what to say or due, unsure of how she could keep her emotions neatly tucked away.
"This is Preston Burke, I am unavailable at this moment, but if you would leave a message, I will return your call in a timely manner. Thank you."
She closed her eyes, imagining herself in his arms, just the warmth of his voice enveloped her and gave her strength.
Purpose.
The tone brought her back to reality, and she began to fight for words, fight for an explanation that would make it okay.
But nothing came, her mouth hung open, matching the static silence of the other end of the cell phone, and moments later a computer generated voice reminded her that she hadn't left a message.
She pressed a button and pressed the phone back to her ear, listening for the tone once more, and when she heard it, she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I'm okay." she finally forced from her lips, her voice higher than normal, shaky, unsure.
She closed the phone, wishing that she could say the words that had come from her heart instead of the words that her mind regulated, but it was too late.
What good would it have done to say those three little words anyway?
They're just words.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Preston Burke lay in his bed sleepless, watching slowly as the minutes ticked by until he would have to awaken and go about his day.
Until he would have to awaken and face the reality that she really was gone, and that she may never be coming back to him.
She was so stubborn and head strong, exhausting, frustrating, competitive, relentless...why couldn't she just accept settling down, accept him as her future and let it go?
His heart ached with confusion and anger, sadness and guilt. Never had he doubted himself so much in his entire life, never had he been so ready to fight for something that anybody else would've walked away from years ago.
But how could he get through to her?
How could he be supportive of her?
He'd given her ultimatums before, scared her into taking steps for their relationship, but this was much more than a step.
This was more like a height up Mt. Everest.
He wouldn't ever dream of giving her an ultimatum, surgery or him.
Mostly because he was afraid of the answer he would receive. He was afraid of losing her. Fear was the emotion that had won over all the other emotions at this moment in time, though he knew it should be anger, or betrayal.
"Dammit." he cursed, grasping blindly for his phone in the night.
He needed to talk to her, try to get some sense into her, try to determine her thought processes.
He needed to know she was okay.
The phone burned at his eyes, the bright screen displaying that he had a voicemail, and he pressed the button to dial it up, his mind racing with thoughts, what had she said, was it even her?
Her voice pierced the silence of their bedroom, it was soft and shaky. 'I'm okay.'
He swallowed hard at the words.
Though she'd never admit it, she always knew how to say exactly what he needed to hear at the most inconvenient of times. Many times she'd failed him when it seemed like he needed her the most, but in those times of heavy denial, those times where he was convinced he could pull through on his own.
That's when she surprised him.
He replayed the message, as if there were an underlying secret to it, something that would clue him into what he could do.
After the fifth time, he sat the phone down and closed his eyes.
Thoughts entered and exited his mind quickly, ways to teach her the sutures more quickly, ways to get her back into the program, ways to bypass the stipulations of her contract.
Ways to get her home.
Burke sat up in bed and grabbed a legal pad and pen from the nightstand, his mind reeling with different ways he could get her back into the program.
She might've pushed him away, but he was going to work harder than ever to bring them back together.