Catalyst Chapter 15
I have no interest in Grey's Anatomy. The characters belong to the ABC/Shonda
No copyright infringement intended.
It was Monday morning. For most it was the beginning of the work week, but for him it was the beginning of the second most anticipated moment of his life. The moment when he would see her again for the first time since he told her that he loved her. The first had been his graduation from Med. school, but that was many years ago. He hadn't tried to contact her over the weekend because he wanted to give her time to think, and to accept just what those words really meant. If he was honest with himself he would admit that he too, needed time to think and to absorb and accept the true meaning of those words. They weren't planned, and even though he had known for quite some time how he felt about her, he had resisted the temptation to tell her.
For him, telling her, meant that he was committing to a relationship with her, but he wasn't sure if she was ready for such a relationship. Her attitude toward men was somewhat cavalier. To her they were as disposable as a used syringe. He didn't know what caused her to be like that, and he suspected that he was the first man to get close to her in a very long time. Still, he knew that he hadn't yet begun to scratch the surface of her existence. But given the chance, he would guide her to that place where she would feel free to be herself, and she would know that love wasn't something to be feared or shy away from. It doesn't come with a guarantee or an owner's manual, but ultimately, it's a chance we all have to take, and sometimes we get lucky.
There were some things that he knew for sure. He knew that she had deep feelings for him, he wasn't quite sure if it was love. He knew that there were moments when they were together, that she would let her guards down and he would get a tiny glimpse of the real woman. Mostly those moments would come when they were making love and to him that wasn't good enough. He wanted the woman behind the passion. The woman who glowed in the aftermath of their lovemaking and slept with her head on his chest. She, who stood in the greyness of the early dawn and admitted that she was more concerned about the price he would have to pay, if it was known that they were seeing each other.
He could have told her that he loved her during those moments, but he wanted her to understand that loving her, and making love to her, though intricately intertwined, were two different things. He would love her regardless. He loves her regardless.
Was love enough? He had no answer to that question. Until now, he was just someone to whom she could run whenever she felt scared or alone. The secret friend who knew some of her weaknesses but didn't use it against her. Someone with whom she shared moments that were so intimate that at times it brought them both to tears. Those tears that each thought was private, shed only in the darkness of night, in his bed, under his sheets. Only, they were never private, because she knew, and he knew, for they had both tasted the saltiness of those intermingled tears, running down each other's cheeks, a clear symbol of passion so intense and wounds not yet healed. Now she knows his true feelings, and all he could do was to wait patiently for her to make the next move, and hope that it would be the right one.
He should have known better than to leave the next move up to her, because it never came. She spent a whole week doing everything she could, to avoid him. And so he retaliated in the only way he knew how. He chose George to assist him with a surgery that he knew that she would have wanted, and continued to pass her over for days. He didn't speak to her directly and on the rare occasions when he did, he looked at her as if he was seeing right through her. Things got worse when Bailey assigned her to him. He in turn assigned her to look after his post op patients and used other interns to assist him in surgery. A confrontation was inevitable, but the way it happened changed the dynamics of their relationship and in essence, their lives.
He was making his final rounds for the day and she was updating him on the condition of his patients. They got to the last patient's room, a Mr James Fletcher who was recovering from open heart surgery. He had suffered a heart attack a few days earlier. Mr Fletcher appeared to be asleep, so after updating Burke on his condition Cristina began to tell him, quite sarcastically, about a conversation she had with Mr. Fletcher's wife.
"You should know that his wife came earlier today and she is not coming back, she left him."
"What do you mean she left him?"
"I mean, she left him Dr. Burke . . . you know, no more washing his clothes, preparing his meals, having sex with him . . . left him."
He looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. "You seem to know a lot about my patient's personal life, Dr Yang"
She reiterated "well, since I was left to babysit him all day, I had no option but to hear all about his personal life."
"You were not here to babysit him, you were here to make sure that all his medical needs were met."
Cristina continued talking without looking at him. "Do you want to know why she left him?" She didn't wait for him to answer but continued "She left him because she found out that he had his heart attack while having sex with another woman . . . not only that, the other woman is a hooker . . . I think the wife needs an introduction to Mrs Bobbit . . . men are so stupid" By the time she realized what she had said, it was too late. He was staring at her, a look of disgust on his face. She looked away. He had a way of conveying his displeasure to her without saying one single word. But this time she had gone too far, and when he spoke it was biting.
"Dr Yang, leave the room"
"But . . . I" She couldn't get the words out.
"I said leave"
There was a sound coming from the bed and they both looked toward it. Mr Fletcher was wide awake and from his expression, had heard everything that she had said. Cristina looked at Burke
and then back at Mr Fletcher. Suddenly, she was the intern again, looking for her teacher to help her out of a bad situation. He didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, standing between Cristina and the patient then spoke quietly to Mr Fletcher.
"Mr. Fletcher, I see you have improved tremendously since this morning, Dr Yang must have
taken good care of you."
Mr. Fletcher spoke quietly, his voice almost inaudible "Dr. Yang is young and . . . she has no idea what it feels like to have the woman you've been married to for twenty five years tell you, that
she never loved you . . . that every time you made love to her, she fakes an orgasm . . . Maybe Dr Yang has never been in love."
Burke reached behind him and holding on to Cristina's hand gently pulled her forward, then he turned to Mr. Fletcher. "I hope you will forgive us both for that conversation . . . you are our patient and deserve our utmost respect . . . Dr Yang is young, and though it doesn't excuse what she has done, she is an intern and interns sometimes make mistakes. As her teacher, I take full responsibility for that. I can assure you that it won't happen again. Please accept our apologies."
Mr Fletcher smiled, a look of amusement on his face. Dr Burke, he thought, was either an extremely lenient teacher or he was in love with his intern.
They walked out of the room together; Cristina could only marvel at what just transpired in Mr Fletcher's room. She had always respected Burke as a surgeon, always known that he was the best. But a few moments ago in that room, what he did for her, way surpassed anything she expected from him. His professionalism shown through, even though she knew that he was still very upset with her for avoiding him. He took the heat from Mr Fletcher and apologized, but he did even more, for when he reached back to pull her forward he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. A sign of reassurance, which spoke so much to the kind of man that he was.
They walked down the hall and she was about to stop at the Nurses station when he said "Walk with me Dr Yang."
He was trying to get her away from the Nurses station and the prying eyes of the nurses and anyone else who was around. She fell into step with him.
"Is Mr Fletcher going to be ok?" She asked loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Mr. Fletcher will be fine." He answered back
Something in his voice told her that he was not done with her, but was just trying to find a convenient place to yell at her. She knew she had to apologize for her behaviour earlier, and so she started "Burke I'm . . . "
He interrupted her "What, were you thinking?"
"What?" His words and his tone surprised her. He had treated her so nicely in front of Mr Fletcher that his harshness now was unexpected.
"I didn't know that he was awake . . . I"
Again he interrupted her. "Meet me in the on call room in half an hour . . . I have to meet a friend across town in two hours so try not to be late." With that he walked away leaving her standing there, momentarily confused and for some odd reason, on the brink of tears.
Exactly half hour later he walked into the on call room. He was casually dressed and carrying his brief case. It always amazed her to see how different he looked in regular clothes. When he wears his scrubs, he was Dr Burke and it was very hard to see him as anything but. Now, dressed
casually, he was Burke. The Burke who cooked for her and danced with her. She wondered if he
knew the effect he had on people, or if he even cared. He locked the door and stood leaning against it for a few moments. Then he put his briefcase on the chair and walked toward her. She was sitting on the lower bunk, her chin resting in her hands. As he got closer, she got up and faced him.
"Look, Burke, I'm sorry about what happened in Mr Fletcher's room, I . . . I shouldn't have said what I did, but I honestly thought that he was sleeping."
He was looking through her again. "You thought that he was sleeping? What does that mean? That as long as the patient is asleep, you have the right to say whatever you want about his private life? ...Have you learned nothing since you've been here?"
"I was just repeating what his wife told me."
"It doesn't matter what she told you, Cristina, you are his doctor, you . . . "
"No" she countered, "You, are his doctor . . . you operated on him, you make all decisions relating to his care . . . I'm just the person who changes his bed pans and make sure he takes his meds . . . with me around you don't even need nurses."
"So that's what's bothering you? You feel that you're being relegated to a nurse and you can't handle that. Lose the inferiority complex, brush up on your bedside manner and maybe then you'll become, the kind of surgeon, you so desperately want to be . . . You don't engage in conversations like that about a patient and you don't ever suggest that he should get his penis cut off."
"That's not what I said." Cristina shouted, forgetting for a moment that they can be overheard.
"No. . . then explain to me what you meant when you said his wife needed to be introduced to Mrs Bobbit." He realized that his anger toward her had very little to do with Mr Fletcher, and although it pains him, he knew that sometimes, he was going to have to be very tough on her "You need to go back to Mr Fletcher's room and apologize to him."
"But you already did that."
"Yes, but he also needs to hear that you are sorry . . . I'm your teacher, Cristina, I wouldn't be doing my job if I . . . "
She started to laugh sarcastically. "My teacher? ...Is that really who you are to me? ...My teacher was supposed to teach me how to become a good surgeon . . . the best surgeon, instead all I've done all day is clean up crap and listen to you preach about the virtues of your superior morals."
"Cristina"
"Are you forgetting that we are sleeping together? Where were your morals, then?"
"Correction, Cristina, we were sleeping together."
They both became silent. Each had said things that were hurtful to the other. He sat on the bed, disappointed in himself for reacting that way. In his pocket he could feel his phone vibrating but
he didn't answer it. He looked at his watch. He was going to be late for his appointment.
His phone continued to vibrate and he took it from his pocket, looked to see who was calling then answered. The conversation was very brief. He told the caller that he was going to be a few minutes late then ended the call.
By now she had returned to sitting on the bed, her hands folded in her lap. He reached out and took one of her hands in his. She tried to pull away but he held on firmly. He got off the bed, knelt down on the floor in front of her, and tilted her chin so she was looking right at him.
"We can't fight like this, especially not here."
She didn't respond but he could see tears glistening in her eyes. He didn't want her to cry, it would humiliate her and he didn't want to do that. He sat next to her on the bed, still holding her hands.
"What's wrong with us, Cristina? ... I told you that I loved you and you had nothing to say . . . Don't you understand, . . . I love you."
She said nothing but the tears she was trying so hard to contain, came streaming down her face. He let her chin go and ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it back behind her ears so that her face became more visible, then with his bare hands he wiped away her tears, and while he did that he spoke to her.
"Who am I to you Cristina? Tell me because I'm not sure anymore, . . . I'm not just your teacher, and we both know that . . . But I don't want to be just the man you have sex with once in a while . . . I want more . . . I want you. I want to be able to go out with you, in public without having to worry about being seen. I want to be able to bring you flowers without worrying that you may throw them back in my face. I love you, but I don't even know where you live and I don't have your phone number. I want to think that you care, even just a little, but given the circumstances I can't help but to think that maybe you want things to remain just the way they are. I want you, and if you don't want me then we're just wasting our time."
He left the room, and she stayed there for a few more minutes, then dried her tears and got ready to leave the room. It was then that she heard the buzzing sound of a phone vibrating, she looked on the bed and lying right next to her was his cell phone.