Chapter 5

I have no interest in Grey's Anatomy and my use of the characters is done without consent. No copyright infringement intended.

Her fourth week at Seattle Grace turned out to be the most interesting. It started quietly, nothing extraordinary happening, but by the end of that week, her life would take an unexpected turn. And life as she knew it, would change forever. She had left home early, arriving at the hospital at 4:30 A.M.. Her objective was to be the first there for pre rounds so that she would be the intern asked to scrub in on any surgery. She was lucky, or so she thought. The new patient with the potential for an interesting surgery was a former scrub nurse at the hospital by the name of Elizabeth Fallon, Liz for short. Liz had an abdominal mass which turned out to be Pancreatic Cancer. Liz's prognosis warrants an operation called a Whipple. However, Cristina's plan to scrub in on the cool surgery back fired as Meredith ended up scrubbing in on an even more interesting surgery of a guy who accidentally shot himself in the head with a nail gun.

During that day the most unexpected thing happened. Cristina started to bond with Liz Fallon. After waiting all day to go in to surgery she would find out several days later that there was no surgery planned, but that nurse Fallon was in fact there to die. Though not having the surgery greatly disappointed her, surprisingly the news that Liz would die affected her more. She was mad at Dr. Burke for leading her on and made no bones about it when she confronted him one morning after examining Liz. She accused him of not planning a surgery and that he was acting as if the nurse was only there to die. He had no option but to confirm her suspicions. She was so angry at him that she spoke to him in a manner that no intern would. If anyone else dared to speak to him that way they would be in serious trouble. With her he totally ignored it. For some reason she knew that even if she got angry he wouldn't retaliate. She didn't know why, she just knew.

Liz Fallon died a few days later and it devastated her. She had entered Liz' room and the nurse confirmed that there would be no surgery. Cristina said she could have told her before and Liz told her to think of it as a hazing ritual, then she went into cardiac arrest. Although the nurse had signed DNR forms, Cristina still tried to resuscitate her. Dr. Burke came by and had to physically pull her off Liz. When the nurse took her last breath Cristina had to call time of death. It clearly, was the hardest thing for her to do and represented the first true test of her career. She did so, and quickly exited the room. She was in the stair well, upset, her eyes welling up with tears when he found her. "You can't lose it like that." He said.

She tried to pass him and he took hold of both of hands. Seeing her like that bothered him. He had spent the last couple of days having fun at her expense. Liz was his friend and they both recognized something in her. They saw the unlimited potential and the willingness to do whatever it takes. They wanted to slow her down. They knew how easy it was for new interns to push themselves so hard that they eventually suffer from total burn out. They didn't see that her motives had changed. She wanted the surgery desperately, but most importantly, she wanted Liz to get well. She fought hard to stop the tears from falling. She didn't want him to see her cry for fear that he may consider her weak. Not good enough for Seattle Grace. He, on the other hand was fighting his own battle. Instead of just holding her hands he wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her. She was hurt and he knew it, but unlike the night in the parking lot, he was now her superior, and boundaries had to be kept. And so he said the only thing he could possibly say to her. "We have to let her go."

She stood at the door knocking but no one answered. After a few minutes she started to walk away. A door opened behind her and she turned around. He was standing there, shirtless, a towel around his neck, water dripping from his hair. The jeans he just pulled on still unbuttoned at the waist. It was a very intimate portrait but she didn't see that. She wasn't there yet, he was way ahead of her. If she had recognized the intimacy of the moment, she would have run. Running was what she did best.

She thought that the reason she was there was to return his shirt. Subconsciously, she was there to be comforted. Liz died. The first of her patients to die. She didn't know how to handle it. She liked the nurse. She admired her straight forwardness. In many ways Liz reminded her of herself. Every doctor wether they are interns or more seasoned professionals will at some point in their career lose a patient. In all her studies, she had never prepared herself for that. In her mind she could cure them all. Liz was lesson number one. You cannot cure all illnesses. The emotional impact Liz' death had on her took her totally by surprise, and so she came to the one place where she knew she would be comforted. She knew instinctively, that there would be no question asked, no judgements, just a shoulder to cry on if she need to. He never told her she could come there. But she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't turn her away. There was something unspoken between them. Something powerful, something so beyond their control that no matter how she tries to ignore it, it always comes back to him. She needed to see him at least once a day. She needed to hear his voice. He was the last person she thinks about before she went to bed at night and the first person in the mornings when she awakes. She had no idea what was happening to her, or that something was in fact, happening. To her the only reason why she found herself constantly thinking about him was because he was her boss and she was eager to prove herself.

She turned around and started to walk toward him. He buttons the waist of his jeans. As she got closer, she pulled a T-shirt from her bag and handed it to him. "I brought back your shirt."

He took the shirt, held it up and looked at it, trying hard not to laugh. The shirt, once white was now pale pink. He bit down on his bottom lip, finally able to compose himself. "Dr. Yang, this shirt isn't mine."

"It is yours" she answered, "I washed it,"

This time he couldn't suppress the Smile. "You washed my shirt . . . and it turned pink."

She answered matter of fact ly. "Yes"

The smile turned into a laugh. "Dr. Yang do you not know how to do your own laundry?"

She turned around and headed down the hall.

"Cristina" He called after her. It was the first time he called her Cristina. Her name rolls off his tongue like poetry. He went inside, grabbed his keys and went after her. He caught up with her, gently took her hand "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. Would you like to come in for a minute?"

She shook her head "No"

"Cristina, just for a minute. Look, I just got out of the shower that's why I couldn't open the door when you first knocked."

She still didn't move and he continued.

"I'm still wet, my hair is still wet, you don't want to be responsible for me catching a cold do you!"

She still didn't move and he continued "I have heart surgery tomorrow, I can't operate if I catch a cold."

The mention of surgery tomorrow got her attention, maybe he would allow her to scrub in. "I can't, I've been on call for forth eight hours and I'm really very tired. I just wanted to return your shirt."

He thought for a moment then said. "What have you had to eat all day?"..."I just made dinner, there's enough for two."

She searched his face. "Okay but only for a few minutes." Once inside he got her to sit down and excused himself. He came back a few minutes later, his hair dry and wearing a shirt.

He went to his kitchen and came back to ask her. "Would you like something to drink?"

At first she declined but he talked into it and was surprised when she said she wanted a beer. In no time the table was set and they sat down to eat. The dinner was wonderful. He made poached salmon with scalloped potatoes and vegetables. She was surprised at how well he could cook. During dinner they hardly spoke. He asked her if she was enjoying her internship and she answered "Except for the night of the mixer it's been great." They sat quietly at his table eating, no one wanting to be the first to talk about what happened earlier that day. After dinner, he cleared the table and she went to sit on the couch. She picked up a newspaper and pretended to read it. He came over and asked if she wanted to watch a movie.

"No" was her only response. He knew that in a few minutes she would want to leave so he brought up the one subject that he knew would get her talking. "About Liz."

She looked up at him immediately, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Cristina, you couldn't save her . . . She was too far gone."

"I don't understand" she said. "I don't understand how someone can choose to die without first trying to live."

"She did try to live Cristina. She tried for months."

"Then how could she give up now?"

"Because for her, death was inevitable. Liz was no stranger to this type of cancer. She had seen so many patients die from it . . . They just don't go to sleep one night and never wakes up . . . They suffer . . . they suffer a lot. She didn't want that for herself...She was a brave woman...and a very competent scrub nurse...You could have learned a lot from her...I learned a lot from her."

"You learned a lot from a nurse?"

"Cristina. If you open your mind you can learn something from anyone."

He watched her cover her face with her hands and watched her shoulders shook. She was sobbing. He sat next to her, gathered her into his arms and let her cry.

He never said a word. He rubbed her back and caressed her hair and whispered ssh, and just let her cry. Afterwards she rests her head in his lap and eventually fell asleep. For forty-eight hours straight she had lived at the hospital, on call, hardly getting any sleep. Now, her body finally gave in to the exhaustion and all she could do was comply. He had no intentions of sending her home that night, not in her condition. And so, he removed her shoes, lifted her up, carried her to his bed, lay her down and covered her with the blanket. He went back to the living room. The couch would be his bed for the night. He went to his window and just stood there staring out at the night sky. It was the first time that he really looked at the city from that window. Seattle at night looked beautiful, he thought, but not as beautiful as the woman laying in his bed. He could see himself falling for her. He could feel it. He wanted it to stop, knew it had to stop. She was an intern, he, her superior. There were strict rules against such relationships. But like Adam and the serpent he was tempted. The apple was there, rich and ripe and ready just waiting for him to take the proverbial bite. If he yields to the temptation, there would be no turning back and the consequences could be detrimental. But if he didn't yield, what then? He wanted so badly to be able to control his feelings, but he had no control. For the first time, he, Preston Burke, had no control over the direction his life had taken. It's been four weeks since he first met her, four weeks since he brought her home, four weeks and for the second time she was curled up in his bed, fast asleep.

Tomorrow they'd go back to work and she would be Dr. Yang again, for tonight she is simply, Cristina.