Cristina felt his eyes follow her around the OR as she was dressed and her hands placed into sterile gloves, but she wouldn't look at him.
She felt his glares cut through her being as she cut into her patient's skin, but she couldn't acknowledge him.
He had deceived her.
He wanted her to think she'd done it on her own. That she had earned it, though she knew that wasn't how medicine worked.
He'd blackmailed Webber so she could get her job back.
He wanted her to be happy, and he'd was willing to pay any price to make her happy.
He'd taken away her independence.
She needed him.
She felt her heart pulling at her mind, trying to tell her that he wasn't trying to hurt her as she pulled at her purse string sutures, her mind absently wandering over him until she felt a pop in her fingers.
She'd ripped the secum, the same thing she'd teased O'Malley about several times in their internship.
"I need lap pads and suction!" She commanded her OR, "Give me some 4.0 proline, I need irrigation..."
Cristina found herself grasping at orders, grasping for control, but she couldn't do it.
He did it for her.
"Dr. Yang...your clip?" The scrub nurse offered her, holding out surgical tools, as she grabbed at them, her hands trembling with trepidation.
"I need more suction, I can't see anything." She looked for only a moment to see that Burke was gone from the gallery, and focused on her patient. "More irrigation."
She needed him to still be there, she needed him to guide her, to help her along the way. Silently, she cursed herself as she thought about her foolishness, he was trying to help her, and she pushed him away.
She pushed him away when he was the one thing she had that was stable. That was sure.
Trying once again to focus on her patient, she fought through the waste that was leaking into her patient's body cavity trying to find the purse strings. "I can't find them, I still need suction."
"They're right there, Cristina." His voice invaded her thoughts as he stepped in behind her, watching over her shoulder.
She grabbed at the purse strings, clipping them with a hemostat, "Now what?" She questioned, as more suction was placed, trying to keep her surgical field clear.
"Examine the tear, what suture is best to fix it?" He mumbled, glancing for himself.
She looked into the body cavity and up to him in question.
"Do it, Dr. Yang." He nodded.
"I need some 4.0 proline, now." She ordered the scrub nurse. "More irrigation, more suction."
Her materials were handed to her and she took in a deep inhale before placing her needle in the secum to repair the damage she'd done.
"In and out, right, left, in and out, left, right." She heard him mumble into her ear, his words slightly muffled by the mask and she followed his rhythm. "There you go."
She performed the stitch 6 more times, and finally pulled the purse strings together gently, closing the tear in the secum. "Apply more suction. Let's see if we got her cleaned up." She nodded at her assist, applying lap pads gently to the cavity, clearing out the remaining waste.
"Beautiful work, Dr. Yang. She's clear." The scrub nurse nodded, "Are you ready to close?"
She nodded, "Yes, let's close." And the team around her began removing retractors and preparing her suture and dressing materials.
"Good work." Burke mumbled into her ear, and spun on his heel to leave her OR.
"Stay." She called after him, looking towards him with longing in her eye.
He looked back to her, his eyes connecting with hers and nodded slowly, "If you like, I don't have a surgery this morning."
She began to suture her incision, and he reached his hand in, keep her proline straight for her, watching carefully as she did a simple near and far stitch like she'd never stopped. "I need some hypafix, please."
The nurse passed her the hypafix and she pressed it gently against the fresh pink incision, a simple dressing to cover up a serious complication, that was fixed with a little extra work.
Surgery was amazing to her, because no matter what happened, no matter how serious things got, one of two things could happen. You could die, or you could get better. There was no Grey area, it was black and white.
"She's done." Cristina mumbled to her scrub nurse and walked into the scrub room, Burke following closely behind her. "Thank you...for helping me, with that, y'know."
He tugged at the strings on her gown, untying them for her, "You did a beautiful job, Dr. Yang." He nodded.
"Stop it." She snapped, "Stop calling me Dr. Yang, I'm not Dr. Yang, dammit...I'm Cristina. I'm your Cristina..." She stopped herself after saying the words, closing her mouth tight and looking away from him.
He took a step back, raising his hands, "I'm sorry, but the impression you left me with was that we were done, I was merely trying to be professional."
"I don't want you to be professional anymore." She sighed slamming her hands under the water, "I don't want this." She took deep breaths, squeezing her eyes tightly together, trying to hold back the rush of emotion that she felt just being in his presence after two weeks of being nothing more than professional colleagues, co-workers.
Cristina pulled her hands out of the water, not even pausing to grasp a handful of paper towels to dry her hands as she pushed her way out of the scrub room, running towards the call room as her emotions began to win.
He followed her, pressing the door open before she could put her weight against it and lock it, locking him out, "What do you want?" He questioned, "You're angry when I'm chasing you, trying to keep up with you, being what a good boyfriend should be, you're unhappy when we're apart, what do you want?"
She turned away from him as a tear slid down her cheek, afraid of what she was feeling, afraid of the things that she wanted, afraid of the fact that she actually realized that she needed him.
He placed his hands over her shoulders, pulling himself close to her and kissing the back of her forehead, "You have to want this too, Cristina." He mumbled, "I can't carry this relationship by myself, I can't go back to where we were."
Cristina took in a deep breath and wiped away the two tears that she had let fall from her eyes then faced him, "Then I guess there's only one answer. We have to get married or whatever."
He raised his eyebrow in question, "Seriously? Is that what you want?"
"Are you asking?" She shot back at him, trying to make him think it was his idea in this moment to ask her.
To give him control for a change, if even for a moment.
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, "Marry me."
It wasn't a question, but a statement, because he knew her answer.
Their lips met in a kiss that washed away the residual anguish and doubt, anger and sadness.
Cristina couldn't help but smile inwardly as she thought to herself that they had come full circle, that through all the complications, the pain, that they'd had a full recovery.
And that was all that anybody could ever ask for.