Archive of Our Own ^beta

How nightmares can turn into a dream come true:

Cristina intensely studied the scalpel in her hand, turning it over and angling it so its sharp edge glinted dully, reflecting the bright fluorescent lights that illuminated the operating table in front of her. This was it, the moment she’d been preparing for ever since she’d found herself held captive in the enchanting beauty of cardiothoracic surgery, her first ever solo heart surgery. It was a heart transplant that the patient she had been assigned to had been waiting for for 5 years. She'd done the research, read up on the procedure, practiced on stan so many times she could practically do it in her sleep. And now here she was, alone in the room beside a few nurses and one intern she hadn’t bothered to learn the name of and the patient, who lay on the table waiting to be cut open. For him, this procedure granted him a new heart, for her, this could very well be the most significant moment of her career. She was ready. She brought down the scalpel to the patient’s chest, and steadily drew a straight cut across it. She then brought up her other hand and slowly reached into his chest, wrapping her hand round the heart with the same carefulness a mother might use for her newborn child before slowly raising it away from the chest cavity towards the awaiting organ cooler. She almost had it out when suddenly she felt the previously unconscious patient’s hand wrap around her wrist in a death-lock grip, nails digging into the skin there. The sudden shock made Chirstina's hand to clench the heart she was holding which in turn began to bleed at a terrifying rate. She then tried to stem the bleeding by reaching out for her instruments, but the patient still gripped her wrist fiercely, keeping her on the spot, helpless. She called out, desperately trying to get away, to get help but soon realized that the nurses and the intern were all gone at it was now just her, alone, in the operating room with an awake, dying patient who she was going to let die because she just couldn’t break free. She then turned her attention to the patient, hoping to try and talk some sense into them. But it wasn’t her patient anymore, no, it was her own face looking up at her from the table, eyes dark and cold and so very lifeless and yet her hand was still sinking into her skin, causing blood to drip from her wrist. But not just her wrist, no it was coming from everywhere, her chest and her nose and her mouth she couldn’t talk, couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe...

Christina woke up with a sharp gasp, chest heaving with the force of her sobs as she desperately tried to get her breathing under control. She frantically untangled herself from the sweat-soaked sheets she’d been under, moved to sit herself on the edge of the cot bed, cradling her head in her hand and breathing in through her nose deeply, waiting until she felt her tears stop flowing and the echoes of the jarring nightmare she had just experienced fade into the distance before she opened her eyes and blearily took in her surroundings.

She was alone in an on-call room with a bed that was situated as far away as possible from the (blessedly) locked door and subsequently any prying eyes that may have been positioned there. Satisfied with the certainty that no-one had been around to see her little... incident, she turned her attention to the watch on her wrist and read the time there. 05.00AM lit up on the little screen, causing Christina to let out an irritated groan as she rubbed her eyes tiredly. 30 minutes, she had only gotten 30 minutes of sleep after being on call all night and having only gotten at best 4 hours of broken sleep the night before. Truthfully, Christina couldn’t even remember the last time she’d slept for more than six hours without being woken up at least once by a nightmare, even then it was a rarity for her to find sleep after a nightmare, most of the time simply giving up on rest altogether.

It had got to the point now where Christina didn’t even return to her flat in the evenings, instead choosing to hole up in some small, private corner of the hospital where she would try and get at least a couple hours of sleep, however unpleasant they may be, before going in search of some work around the hospital. She'd been doing this for at least a couple of weeks now, but her roommate Callie was so in love with her new girlfriend that Cristina doubted she would notice if Cristina moved out completely. It was fine though; it wasn’t like her and Callie were the best of friends or anything. Besides, it's easier to hide her sleeping pattern this way, better that Cristina handled it herself instead of Callie finding out and the awkward attempt at concern that would follow the discovery. And she could handle this, Cristina reminded herself whilst scrubbing savagely on her face, trying to remove the tear and snot tracks that had imprinted themselves there.

After all, it wasn’t like this was the first time she’d had trouble sleeping, in fact these periods of insomnia were quite frequent and were often stress induced and lord knows she was under a lot of stress. Between trying to help Izzie with her secret life-threatening cancer, navigating the mine field that was her relationship with her ex-army boyfriend who seemed to fall apart any time she tried to have a conversation with him and making sure Meredith didn’t slip back into her depression after her wimpy boyfriend Mc dickface had said he wanted nothing to do with her, not to mention the daily annoyances that cropped up at work due to her idiot interns constantly making a mess of things she could barely process anything that went on during the day, which of course meant her brain had come up with the brilliant plan of translating all her stress and worry into these vivid, hauntingly realistic nightmares that had wormed their way into her unconscious mind, making her more tired than she could ever remember being.

but once again she could deal with it, she was a surgeon for god’s sake, it was her job to fix problems. Besides, it wasn’t like there was any one she could talk to this about anyway (not that she needed to, after all, she was fine) again, she barely knew Callie, and she couldn’t really talk to any-one else as she didn’t really know any-one outside the hospital beyond her family and the very thought of discussing this with her judgmental mother sent chills running up her spine so no, that was out of the question. As for the people she knew inside the hospital, most of them were her superiors and so clearly were not right for this, and her own group of residents she wouldn’t exactly call her friends. Sure, they all hung out in the same group a lot, but that was more out of convenience than anything and even then, Cristina doubted she would have been invited to any of these meetups if it was not for Meredith's insistence that she tagged along.

Her distance from her peers suited her just fine though, the detachment making it easier for her to screw them over for surgeries. She couldn’t possibly tell Owen, his own personal problems put her to shame, his nightmares were about almost getting killed in Iraq, hers were from having a lot on her plate. If he couldn’t handle his own demons, there was no way in hell he could handle her problems and asking him would be selfish. Of course, that only left Meredith, and in truth she would love to tell Meredith about this. They nearly always told each other about their problems, finding solace in the fact that they had both been in and could handle the dark place. They were there for each other. But that had been before, before Meredith had found Derek and they had planned their happily ever after and Meredith had no longer found the need to be with Cristina beyond constantly informing her of every little thing going on in her relationship with Derek, a conversation topic Cristina had lost interest in very quickly.

Then after the fight they’d had over the intern situation, a fight Cristina had been stupid enough to start with ought thinking about the consequences, well Cristina had nearly lost her, their friendship having been saved only by Sheperd's complete inability to comfort Meredith after she’d witnessed a prisoner execution, an execution he should have gone with her too instead of getting hung up over his personal problems. Cristina couldn’t help but hate Derek Sheperd, not only because he stole Meredith from her, but also because he failed to recognize just how incredibly lucky he was to be with her. Meredith was the most important person in the world to her, she was the only person who understood her, who accepted her despite all her flaws and lack of ability to act like a human being, she was her person, and she would do anything in the world to make sure she didn’t screw that up a second time. Even if it meant hiding from her.

Even as she thought all this, she couldn’t help but recall how, after Burke had left her right before their wedding and the nightmares that had followed Meredith had always been there for her. From cutting her out of her wedding dress to making sure she didn’t go on her honeymoon alone to simply bringing Cristina to her house every night. How Meredith brought Cristina to her bed and had laid with her at night, holding her gently and stroking her hair until she would finally be lulled into sleep. Those nights Cristina could sleep soundly, knowing she wouldn’t have nightmares whilst she was wrapped in Meredith’s protective arms, her constant presence providing a feeling of warmth and comfort and safety that she hadn’t truly felt with anyone else, not burke, not Owen, not anyone. The memory, coupled with the sense of nostalgia and longing that came with it, caused Cristina to consider, just for a moment, the idea of confiding in Meredith. But then the memory of the cold indifference Meredith had shown towards her after their fight hit her with a wave of reality as she was reminded of the fact that Meredith did not need her in the same way Cristina needed her and that telling her this could very well shatter the fragile bond Cristina had been trying to stabilize between them.

So no, she would not be selfish, she would be a good friend, she would comfort Meredith and she would handle this by any means necessary. Just then Cristina was torn out of her whirlwind of thoughts by a rapid beeping from her pager. Despite her fatigue, she couldn’t help but feel relief at the thought of having something else to focus on today instead of, well, everything else that was going on in her life. And so, with a small grunt she heaved herself of the bed, gave one last swipe at her eyes to make sure any remnants from her meltdown weren’t showing before rushing out of the room with the resolve to focus on nothing but work today, especially not how much she missed sleeping with Meredith grey.

Cristina hurried out into the hallway and raced her way towards Dr Bailey, intent on getting there first to make sure she could snag any amazing surgeries that might be on offer today (please let there be an amazing surgery today) As she came close to her destination, she slowed her pace slightly and gathered her hair back into an untidy ponytail in an attempt to hide just how long it had been since a brush had even gotten close to her hair. When she made it to the check in desk, she’d been paged to she was annoyed to find that she hadn’t got there first. She came closer to see who had beaten her to it and suggest politely that if that if they tried to take a surgery from her today, she would stab them through one of their coronary arteries, but she came up short when she realized who was standing there.

Meredith, who was leaning against the counter casually with her hair hanging loose down her shoulders (and really, she didn’t understand why everyone kept saying Mer should wear her hair up, it looked so beautiful when it was hanging down her back – focus) and was sifting through a stack of reports, eyes scanning each one quickly before moving onto the next one. Cristina quickly bounded up to her and tried to peek over her shoulder to sneak a glance at any cases she might have found. Meredith’s head snapped up at her sudden movements and her facial expression became one of mild amusement, mouth quirking up into a half smile (one that Cristina had grown to love) Cristina simply stared at her for a few seconds until she suddenly remembered what she was here for in the first place.

“Anything good?” she asked, trying to lean in closer to the pages. Meredith then turned the reports away from her and replied with an irritating “most people say good morning as a greeting” Cristina huffed with annoyance (and some underlying tones of bemusement at her best friend's antics) “good morning, aloha, great day to be alive, anything good?” she retorted, once again trying to peek at the stack of possibly incredible surgeries that were tantalizingly close to her, leaning in so much that she was essentially leaning on Meredith’s shoulder, the scent of Meredith’s shampoo becoming more and more defined the longer she stayed there (not that she minded particularly) Meredith turned her head to look at Cristina and shook her head slightly, letting out a bored sigh as she replied, "no, just reading through my intern’s post-op reports. Or trying too anyway, did they even learn to write, or are they just making it up as they go along? Anyway, where are they?” “I don’t know, probably cutting off each other’s arms or something” Cristina responded, leaning against the counter wearily as the excitement of a possible surgery wore away to the boring reality of an ordinary workday.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” Meredith sighed and looked as if she was about to say something else when suddenly she stopped and began to stare rather intently at Cristina, mouth drawn down into a considering frown. “What?” Cristina snapped, fighting to control the blush that had begun to creep its way across her face at being stared at so much, as though Meredith was finding things out about her just by looking at her. “Nothing.” Meredith said, “it’s just... are you ok?” the question caught Cristina of guard, and she found herself stuttering as she came up with a reply “I - I I'm fine, just, what makes you think I'm not fine?” “I don’t know, you're just acting a bit off, plus you kind of look like crap.” Meredith commented, the informality of her words discredited by the concern in her tone. “Thanks. I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Cristina drawled, hoping her sarcasm would put an end to Meredith’s prying and the matter would be put to rest. Meredith, it seemed, wasn’t quite as willing to drop the issue.

“I’m serious Cristina, is something going on with you? Cause I'm right here if you need to talk or -” “look Mer, I don’t think I need mental health advice from a girl with mummy issues, suicidal tendencies and a boyfriend who has mental breakdowns over a bad case. I’m good, so why don’t you just drop it and try to fix your own issues. M’kay?” Cristina interrupted Meredith hurriedly, not liking where the conversation was going. However, at Cristina’s words Meredith shuttered her features into a mask of resignation and simply said “fine, I'll drop it” before turning away from her and falling silent. And yes, okay, maybe she had gone a bit too far, Cristina pondered as she averted her gaze away from Meredith to observe the hospital floor, but really, it was for her own good. Meredith was fragile right now; in fact, she was always fragile but with the whole Derek situation pretty much anything could send her off the edge and Cristina was not going to let her personal problems be the thing that did it.

She then turned to Meredith, hoping to find a change of topic but was rudely interrupted by Alex giving an exaggerated yawn as both he, Izzie and George all came to gather round the counter. None of them exactly looked their brightest but Cristina couldn’t help but focus on Izzie in particular, a sharp stab of guilt running through her as she took in her exhausted and washed-out features, her figure barely upright as she leaned against the counter. She needed to book another oncologist appointment; Cristina reminded herself fiercely, logging the task in her seemingly endless to do list.

Karev chose that moment to make himself even more known by loudly exclaiming “where the hell is Bailey?” “I’m right here Karev and have been for several minutes making me on time unlike a lot of you” Bailey explained stepping out from behind a shelf Cristina had no idea she’d been standing behind all this time. “Now that you’ve all decided to grace us with your presence, I can get started on assignments” Bailey continued, ignoring Karev’s irritated groan in Favour of checking her clipboard. “Yang, you’re on Dr Dixon’s service. Grey, you're covering pre-ops and post-ops. O'Malley, you’re on skills lab, Stevens you’re in the clinic and Karev you’re in the pit.” “Hey, I've been on pit for the last three days, can’t you put me on Dr Sloan's service or something?” Karev whined, fixing bailey with a determined glare, one Dr Bailey was more than happy to match. “I didn’t sleep at all last night Karev because I was dealing with a crying baby, and I in no mood to deal with another one today. No move! Get out of my sight! Go!”

Bailey ordered shooing Cristina and everyone else out into the hospital. Unlike Karev however, Cristina was very pleased with her assignment. Sure, Dr Dixon had essentially no people skills, but Cristina wasn’t much more than a robot herself, so she found that the two of them got on quite well professionally speaking. Besides, being on Dr Dixon’s service meant she got to do cardio today which held the possibility of at least one interesting surgery. And so, as Cristina got a page that sent her rushing to the outside of the hospital, she couldn’t help but think that despite the less than perfect morning she’d had, today was shaping up to be pretty good after all.

Once Cristina reached the outside of the hospital, she quickly took stock of the situation in front of her, one ambulance, two paramedics already opening the doors and Dr Dixon standing close by, looking deeply uncomfortable at all the action going on. Cristina marched determinedly towards one of the paramedics to get a closer look at the patient that was beginning to be brought out. “What you got?” she asked, already leaning over the stretcher being brought out and seeing a man there, unconscious and strapped to an oxygen mask with visible cuts surrounding his face and hands. “Tony Anderson, 52. Went into Cardiac arrest whilst driving and ended up in a car crash. We've restarted his heart but he’s still unconscious. Doesn't seem to have gotten any severe injuries from the accident beyond some cuts, his daughter was in the car with him at the time but she’s unharmed.” the medic replied, helping his colleague bring down the stretcher all the way.

Cristina then glanced up briefly, expecting to see a woman in her early 20’s but was rather shocked to see the face of a terrified young girl, no older than 10, staring back at her, cheeks streaked with tears and arms wrapped around herself protectively, as if she was trying to hold herself together. “You - you're a doctor, right?” she stammered, seemingly fighting a fresh wave of tears as she curled in further on herself. “You can fix him, can’t you? Please, just make him better again, make my daddy better again. Promise you will.” for a moment Cristina was at a loss for words, it wasn’t like this was the first time she’d heard pleas like this, wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with distraught family members as she took away their loved ones and yet... there was something about this case, something about the look in that little girl’s eyes that was so familiar, painfully so. It was stirring up emotions inside her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, nor did she want to re-experience them.

She felt herself get torn out of her thoughts as Dr Dixon called her inside, the stretcher already retreating into the hospital. “we’re going to do everything we can, alright?” Cristina managed to get out, as the young girl was allowing herself to be led into the hospital building by one of the paramedics. But at Cristina’s words she stopped and began to struggle against the paramedic, trying to force her way towards Cristina. “No!” she cried, trying to break free from the Medics rather insistent tugging towards the hospital door. “thar’s not... that’s not good enough!” With that, the little girl managed to twist herself free from the medic’s hold and ran towards Cristina, her small hands clinging to Cristina’s scrubs as though they were a lifeline. “Promise me you’ll save him. You have to promise!” the girl exclaimed, hands digging further into the fabric and eyes meeting Cristina’s with both pleading and determination. Cristina felt tears beginning to creep into the corner of her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to remove them as she replied “I - we’ll try our absolute best to -” “promise me!” the girl all but screamed as the medic took hold of her arm and began to tear her away towards the hospital. Before he could, however, the girl fixed Cristina with one last tear-filled look of desperation which was in the end what broke Cristina’s resolve to stick to protocol and instead she found herself saying in a voice barely above a whisper. “Okay. I, promise... I – I promise.” she looked down at the girl then and saw that she was smiling as she let out a quiet “thank you” before she was suddenly overcome by sobs and allowed herself to be gently led away by the paramedic, her small frame visibly shaking as she was led away.

Cristina stood still for a few moments and looked down to see that her hand was trembling faintly. She'd never done that before, promised life, she knew it was forbidden and for good reason and yet, those eyes, she just... she had to save this girl’s farther, she just had to. With that, Cristina took a deep breath in and walked determinedly into the building, trying to clear the sound of the little girl’s cries from her mind but finding herself unable to do so completely. It took a while, but eventually Cristina managed to find the room they’d put the patient in and walked in quietly, sliding her way towards the edge of the room to avoid attention being drawn to her lateness. Luckily the only people in the room were Dr Dixon, who was studying the patient’s chart closely, and a nurse who was attaching a cannula to draw some blood for blood tests. Neither reacted to Cristina’s entrance, both focused on their individual tasks. Eventually the nurse set of with the blood samples and Dr Dixon’s head suddenly snapped up to look at Cristina, as though she’d only just realized her presence (which in fairness wasn’t completely unlikely.)

“The incident rate of heart attacks per 10,000 people is 18 for people aged between 45 – 54.” Dr Dixon stated, eyes looking past Cristina as though she was addressing an audience somewhere behind the fourth wall. Cristina however was used to Dr Dixon’s unorthodox way of speaking about a case and so simply nodded and responded “right.” waiting for her to elaborate on her point. At Cristina’s reply Dr Dixon’s gaze focused on her once again and she gave a swift nod before continuing “The likelihood of this man getting a heart attack is low, but he’s had one. So, the likelihood of him needing surgery is high. Which means he should get an MRI so I can know what to give him surgery for.” Dr Dixon then looked expectantly at Cristina which Cristina knew was the doctor's way of asking her for something. “I'll get an MRI booked.” she replied, already turning towards the door. At that Dr Dixon simply looked at her for a couple of seconds longer before setting off quickly out of the room without another word, Cristina setting off out of the room a few moments later and, for the first time since she’d started the program, secretly hoping that her patient would not need surgery, if for no other reason than to make it easier to keep her promise.

A short while later Cristina was sitting in the booth outside the MRI machine observing the patient from the screens, impatiently waiting for clearer pictures to come up so she could treat the man quickly and return him to his family, thus clearing her conscience. Mr. Anderson woke up a short while after both her and Dr Dixon had left the room and had immediately complained of chest pains for which the nurses had administered morphine, after that he’d seemed disoriented and unfocused, hadn’t really reacted to anyone’s presence and had only given a distracted nod as a form of permission for the MRI to be used on him. Obviously not a great sign, particularly after a heart attack. Cristina then began to ponder what the reason for this reaction could be until her attention was taken suddenly by a very unfortunate sight on the screen. She quickly paged Dr Dixon who came through the door a couple of seconds after the page suggesting she’d been standing outside there the entire time.

She quickly approached the screen and looked at the details displayed there with an unemotional expression before speaking in a clipped tone “myocardial rupture. He's bleeding and will need surgery now or will die in the next 30 minutes. OR 2, Scrub in” she then set of once again without another word, leaving Cristina alone in the booth with a sick feeling settling in her stomach as she stared at the foreboding pictures on the screens in front of her. It was ironic, she thought to herself with a humourless smile working its way onto her features, she’d so desperately wanted to have a surgery today and yet now she was wishing she could have anything but. it would almost be funny, this turn of events she thought, the smile transforming to a high-pitched almost desperate laugh, it would be, if it wasn’t for the cold shame that settled in her at the thought of having to tell the little girl that she couldn’t save her father.

Cristina was doubled over now, laughing so hard she was wheezing, and yet it was still not loud enough to drown out the little girl’s voice ‘promise me!’ and God! Thought Cristina as she finally managed to get a hold of herself, laughter ebbing away in into quiet gasping as she fought to get her breathing under control, God she really needed to sleep, and she would, she decided after her breath had finally evened out (almost), right after she saved this man’s life. Goal reinforced, Cristina tugged on her hair slightly to ground herself, before hurriedly making her way to OR 2, knowing exactly what she had to do and praying she’d be able to do it.

By the time Cristina had arrived at the OR everything was already set up and the procedure had begun. A myocardial rupture meant there was a tear in the heart wall that would be causing internal damage and would be the reason behind this man’s heart attack, to fix it Dr Dixon would just have to sew up the tear and assuming the damage wasn’t too severe the tear would simply repair itself overtime and this man would be fine. All this information calmed down Cristina’s frazzled nerves, after all, there wasn’t a lot that medicine and factual logic couldn’t solve. The operation would go smoothly, this man would wake up and reunite with his daughter and Cristina could go back to her usual robotic self with the vow to never promise a patient’s family anything ever again. She'd learned today what it was like to be O’ Malley or Stevens... it wasn’t a lesson she’d like to repeat. Now assured that everything was going smoothly and she wouldn’t have to carry around this guilt much longer, Cristina found herself a comfortable place around the table with a great view of the heart and took to the task of passing Dr Dixon surgical tools whenever she called for them, and simply letting her brain switch off as the stress that had been crippling her all day finally began to leave her, making way for the sweet feeling of relief.

That was until Dr Dixon began looking at her expectantly, surgical thread held out like some kind of ominous challenge. She cleared her throught somewhat awkwardly and stated “the other doctors keep saying you must educate your residents. Studies have shown 70% of students learn best through experiential learning. Ergo you should stitch up the tear.” Cristina took the thread apprehensively, slowly leaning towards the heart with the needle in her other hand, struggling to keep her breath under control. And it was just a running whip stitch for god’s sake! (she was going to fail) she practiced it thousands of times. (Her hands had been steady then, were they shaking now? Why couldn’t she tell) she could do this (she couldn’t do this, oh god she couldn’t do this, this man was going to die and it would be her fault and she concentrate, couldn’t breathe and why weren’t her hands steady! she had to calm down but she couldn’t, why couldn’t she? she had to, she couldn’t, she had to -) stop!

Cristina forced herself out of her spiralling, taking deep, calming breaths whilst bringing down her steady (they’d always been steady) hands down to start the stitching because she could do this, she would not fail. (would she?) Cristina slowly threads the needle through the delicate heart muscle tissue, the stitching following in a precise line, neat and straight and perfect, just like every other time Cristina had done it. She was about halfway through the stitching, a smile cautiously finding its way onto her face as the stitching came close to completion – when suddenly a fountain of blood spurted out of the heart, splattering Cristina's clothes and spraying into her eyes, painting the world a sickening red through her vision. Vaguely, she could hear Dr Dixon calling out about “cardiac arrest” and “too much damage” (no) vaguely, she was aware of people moving in a frenzy around her, pushing her out of the way as they applied pressure and who knows what else (NO NO NO NO) Vaguely, she was aware of that moment in the room where everything went silent, when people stopped moving and the machines were turned off, the long unwavering beep of death having delivered its message clearly enough. But none of it mattered cause deep down she already knew (NO!) - yes, it was over, she’d failed.

“Time of death. 12.43” Dr Dixon, tone emotionless, and how much Cristina wished she could feel that surgeon like detachment instead of the agonising shame swirling its way through her, making her want to throw up. It wasn’t like she didn’t deserve the pain though, after all, it was her fault, she’d failed. Cristina watched as the medical staff filed out of the operating room, leaving the patient, no the corpse, in the room. Cristina didn’t leave with them, instead she just stood there for a moment, staring down at the body of the man she was supposed to save and thought about how impossible it was going to be to tell this little girl the truth. a truth Cristina could barely admit to herself, the admission coming out of her in a barely audible whisper, as though she was sharing her darkest secret. “I failed.”

Cristina stood just outside the waiting room, running through the standard consolation doctor's speech for what felt like the thousandth time in her head. ‘We did everything we could, however there was simply too much damage. We are very sorry for your loss.’ It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but Cristina couldn’t think of anything to say that would be enough, anything that would make up for the unimaginable about of pain she was about to cause this family. Cristina had experienced grief firsthand, she knew what it felt like to lose a parent right when you needed them the most, and therefore she knew that there was absolutely nothing that anyone could say that would make it better. So, this would just have to do. Cristina closed her eyes briefly, leaning against the wall slightly and preparing herself as best as she could for what she was about to do, before slowly turning into the waiting room, just wanting to get this all over with.

She began looking around for the little girl and spotted her sitting on some uncomfortable looking furniture, looking up at and talking to a woman Cristina could only assume was her mother. The women in question looked exhausted, eyes so red they looked painful, figure slumped over in a practically defeated manner and arms gently rocking a bundled-up wailing baby, so small it could only be a few months old at the most. The sight sent a sharp stab of guilt soar through her stomach, making her feel impossibly sicker about what she had to do. And yet at the same time, she knew waiting would only make it worse, for all of them. And so, she slowly approached the family and announced in a quiet voice “Mrs. Anderson?” the woman then looked up hesitantly, almost as if she was trying to figure out where she was, before hoarsely replying “yes - yes that’s me.” She then paused a moment, eyes becoming slightly unfocused and glassy before her daughter gently nudged her with her elbow and the woman’s attention refocused onto Cristina. “Do - do you um, do you have any news about my husband?” she stuttered, as though she was afraid of what would happen if she spoke the words aloud.

Cristina looked at her for a moment, opening her mouth to try and force out the answer – before she was suddenly interrupted by the little girl. “it's okay mum, don't worry. This doctor promised me she would fix him.” the girl declared certainly, smiling happily at the baby in the mum’s arms. She then looked back to Cristina, still smiling and continued “and he’s fine right? You fixed him, didn’t you?” Cristina tried to answer but found she couldn’t get any sound past her throat. The mother must have picked up something in her expression however because not a moment later she let out a choked sounding gasp, eyes squeezing shut as tears made their slow descent down her face, whole frame shuddering as she tried to suck in a breath that sounded painful only to let out a breathless whimper, turning herself bodily away from Cristina as though her very presence hurt her. The little girl looked over at her mum, calling for her but getting no response. She then turned back towards Cristina, smile gone and features now strown with uncertainty. “He is fine, isn’t he? You said he’d be. Y – you promised.” the girl spoke, tone significantly quieter now, traced with some slight shaking. Cristina remained silent, unable to speak even if she’d wanted to, leaving it to the mum to let out a broken sounding murmur of “lily, sweetheart. Your daddy, he – he's” “he’s fine!” the girl exclaimed, tone taking a more desperate edge now.

“sweetheart” the woman tried again; a gentle pleading woven into the sound of her voice, hand reaching out to take her daughter’s, but the daughter pulled away at the last second, head shaking frantically as tears slipped out of her eyes at a rapid rate. She whipped her head round to Cristina, begging eyes locking onto Cristina’s anguished ones. “No, no your wrong, you have to be wrong cause he’s fine, right, he fine, he’s fine! He has to be fine, he’s fine, he is fine. He, he is, h – he” the girl then let out a wretched sob, swaying dangerously but still refusing to fall into her mother’s awaiting arms, instead choosing to grab on to Cristina’s scrubs, looking up to her as though she were a god who could make the girl’s father appear, well and alive with a snap of her fingers. But she couldn’t, just like she couldn’t tell this little girl whose hopes were so clearly pinned on her.

The little girl then let out another sob, eyes already becoming stained with grief as the hope that had been shining in them slowly began to fade. Her next words were the quietest reply so far, and yet still managed to tear Cristina to pieces. “please” she whispered, the word likely the last piece of hope the girl had been clinging onto, offered up for Cristina to destroy. And she had to give this girl something, Cristina told herself, finally making her way past the immovable lump that had settled in her throat before croaking out “I’m so sorry” at that, the girl’s facial expression went through countless emotions in seconds, anger, pain, disgust before finally settling on one, defeat. Wordlessly, she fell into her mother’s arms, sobbing her heart out. Beside her, the baby’s wails somehow got louder, transcending into near animalistic shrieks that seemed to fill the entire waiting room, causing everyone (patients, interns Dixon, the other residents) to stare at them, there judging looks felt like burns across Cristina’s skin, causing heat to rise to her cheeks. her wet cheeks she now realized, a shame rising in her at the thought of her coworkers seeing her in this state, though it paled to the soul crushing shame that came from the scene she had just created and suddenly she just couldn’t do it anymore. The heat and the stares and the crying and the noise and she couldn’t talk, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe... she needed to get out of there, now.

Without a second thought, Cristina ran out of the waiting room, hands over her ears to block out all the overwhelming voices surrounding her. She raced down the corridors, ignoring the calls of her name and the complaints she got as she pushed people out of the way in her need to escape. Cause she couldn’t just go anywhere, no she needed to go far away where no one would look for her and where the sounds of the crying couldn’t reach her anymore and wait, why could she still hear that. Surely, she was far enough away now – oh, that was her crying. (doesn’t matter, all that matters is escape.) Without realizing she’d intended to go there, Cristina found herself descending the steps to the basement, where she came face to face with Owen. (Thank God, Owen was here, he’d know what to do) Cristina reached out to him, hoping he’d have the answers and help her fix everything... only to watch as he stepped back from her in something close to disgust, expression stormy and uncaring. “ I can’t... deal with this – with you right now.” he stated, turning away from her and ending quietly with “just leave” Cristina took a step back but still hovered, still not really wanting to leave until a few moments later when Owen turned to her and with a fury she didn’t know he possessed came up to her and yelled. “LEAVE, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, GO!” Cristina breath hitched and the sudden tone change, and she instinctively backed away before turning on her heel and running, sprinting out of the basement.

Chest heaving and breath uneven as she tried to keep her sobs at bay, Cristina continued to unsteadily make her way through the hospital. She ended up crashing into quite a few walls and carts in her haste to get away, though that might have been because her vision was so blurry, the hospital barely more than lights and sounds to her now as she kept running and running until she finally found the door to a small medical supply room. She threw herself through it, shoving it behind her and essentially crawling across the floor as she fought to get as far away from the door as possible. Once she’d made it to the corner, she made herself as small as possible, knees tucked tightly against her chest as she fought for breath, her head swimming with everything that had just happened and then, in the silent darkness that the supply room offered, Cristina allowed herself to give in to her pathetic impulses and just sit there and cry, unsure on how she was ever going to face going outside into the hospital again.

********

Meredith had been having a long day. Hell, she’d been having a long week! Her workload at the hospital had been never-ending, her daily tasks both boring and yet somehow constantly stressful, most of them forcing her to run up and down the hospital just to deliver everything on time. She was also having to put in a lot of effort to avoid the chief who seemed to be chasing her around the hospital to guilt her into getting Derek to come back to work. In fairness, that was all anyone seemed to want to talk about with her (or in most cases, behind her back) aside from Cristina of course, at least she could pass the Bechdel test and talk with Meredith about something beyond her runaway boyfriend. People were being sympathetic of course, a lot of “I’m so sorry” and “is there anything i can do to help?” But in truth their attempts at kindness only made Meredith feel worse about not being overly affected by Derek leaving.

It wasn’t like she was totally unaffected by it; her sleep hadn’t exactly been great (though from the looks of it Cristina was getting less than half of what she was getting, she really ought to investigate that) but the things she was losing sleep over probably wasn’t what people had in mind. It was only that, you know when you're a teenager and you fall for a boy, and you think you're in love with him but then you realize he’s a dick and you’re actually just in love with the idea of loving him? Well, her and Derek’s situation was obviously a bit more complicated than a high school romance, but the cases weren’t exactly dissimilar. Because at the start it was great, he was dreamy, charming and romantic, and wanted her. Not only that, but he also wanted the same things as her, marriage, kids, big career, and he was happy to wait until she was ready. But now Meredith was starting to admit to herself that part of the reason she’d wanted to wait for so long was because she’d realize Derek might not actually be the right person for her.

She still wanted the same things, the house, the wedding, the kids, but when she thought about who she wanted to do it all with, Derek's wasn’t the face who appeared. But he was safe, and it wasn’t like Meredith had a lot of other options, so she’d stuck it out. Lying awake at night at his side and trying to convince herself this was what she’d wanted whilst desperately hoping that Cristina would barrel through her door so she could get Derek out of bed and curl up with her instead, simply enjoying how easy and enjoyable it was when Cristina was lying next to her instead. Meredith then couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought that she’d enjoyed having Cristina in her bed more than she had her long-term boyfriend. Honestly though, as guilty as it made her feel, Meredith couldn’t help but think that Derek’s disappearance had come as a blessing, because at least it gave her a way to end things quickly. As much as she hated everyone constantly asking her about her and Derek, Meredith wouldn’t mind talking it all over with Cristina, at least she would be honest with her, and her opinion was the only one Meredith cared about anyway.

And on top of that she’d probably find a way to make her feel better about all this, most people didn’t really understand Cristina’ unemotional, shrewd way of solving problems but for Meredith it seemed Cristina always knew the right thing to say to get her out of bed and moving on. She was Meredith’s person, and Meredith couldn’t help but be worried about her. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days and her defensiveness this morning only further proved to Meredith that something was going on with her. However, Meredith wasn’t quite aware just how badly things were going for Cristina until she overheard some interns sniggering in the corner, Cristina’s name coming up way too much for her liking. She stormed up to them and demanded they told her what they were whispering about, and with some more non too gentle prompting on of the interns mumbled about how Cristina had had some kind of mental breakdown when delivering news to a patient’s family and had run off crying though the hospital. After Meredith had scolded them for gossiping and punished them sufficiently by sending them off to do the most boring paperwork she could think of, she quickly set off on a mission to find Cristina and get to the bottom of what was troubling her. She knew Cristina wouldn’t like the invasion of her privacy, and usually she would give her the time to come tell Meredith herself, but desperate times called for desperate measures. After all, she was Cristina’s person too, which meant she was there for her, no matter what.

45 minutes later and Meredith was certain she’d never find Cristina. She’d checked every place she could think of on-call rooms, operating galleries, she’d even checked the basement! (Though upon seeing Cristina’s boyfriend punching some walls in there she left pretty much straight away. God, Cristina could do better.) By this point she was running out of options. After checking what felt like the 100th on-call room and accidentally interrupting some nurses who were doing something other than sleeping, Meredith quickly exited the room and slumped along a wall to the left. There she sighed and took a minute to think through all the places she might have missed. After all, she knew that Cristina wouldn’t have gone home or to Joe’s bar, she might not be doing any work, but she still wouldn’t have left the hospital whilst it was her shift. God, she could be bleeding out in the hallway and still be begging Dr Bailey to let her scrub in!

The thought made Meredith smile yet at the same time it only made her all the more worried about where Cristina would have gone to, given how she definitely hadn’t found help. Now more determined, Meredith pushed herself off the wall and set off down the corridor preparing to turn the corner until she was stopped in her tracks by a barely there sound of a slight shuffle behind the door of a medical supply closet. Meredith then stood still, breathing quietly and waiting for any more sounds to come. It remained silent however and Meredith prepared to set off again – only to be stopped by another sound of movement behind the door – nearly imperceptible but still there at any rate. Meredith thought through her options, after all she felt she’d interrupted enough people doing... private things today and she’d prefer not to get a reputation of being a work spy or something but at the same time hiding in plain sight did seem like a very Cristina thing to do. Besides, if there was even a chance Cristina was behind there... it was worth going in to check, even at the risk of intrusion.

Mind made up, Meredith slowly turned the handle and apprehensively turned her head round the door. At first, she couldn’t see anyone and was about to leave entirely – until her attention was drawn to a hunched over figure in the furthest corner of the room, head tucked down and whole frame trembling visibly from where she was sitting. Meredith could only see an outline of the figure, but she knew it was Cristina. She approached her distraught friend cautiously, of course all she wanted was to run over and pull Cristina into a hug, but she knew that would only make her uncomfortable and as a result less likely to tell Meredith what was troubling her. And so, Meredith restrained herself and came towards Cristina slowly and sat down next to her, while still making sure she was giving her some space. She didn’t speak to her just yet instead choosing to study her face to try and gauge how bad things were. Cristina was looking straight ahead, eyes that were red and puffy staring dead straight at some unknown target, entire figure drawn in and together, everything about the picture screaming LEAVE ME ALONE! Didn't mean Meredith was going to listen though. Instead, she sat still for a few more seconds before softly inquiring “Cristina?”

If Cristina heard her, she gave no indication. Instead, she stayed ridged and unresponsive, looking out into the distance as if she wasn’t even aware Meredith was in the room. Though Meredith was beginning to fear that might be true. Meredith tried asking her again, this time a little louder. “Cristina? What's going on, are you okay.” Cristina still didn’t reply, though her trembling seemed to have increased to shaking and her breaths were starting to come out raggedy and uneven. Now slightly alarmed, Meredith allowed herself to gently place her hand on Cristina’s shoulder and say “it’s alright Cristina, it’s fine. You don’t have to talk about it, just breathe for me.” but it seems the contact and request only aggravated Cristina more given how she was less breathing by now and more gasping, hand coming up to grasp at her scrubs as if to rip out whatever was stopping her air flow. Now truly fearful, Meredith felt her hold on Cristina’s shoulder tighten as she told commanded to Cristina in as steady a voice as she could manage “Cristina look at me, look at me Cristina” but Cristina didn’t pay attention to Meredith, gasps giving way to a terrible sounding wheezing as she fought for breath in her panic.

Meredith then, without allowing herself to think about it, raised her hand and cupped Cristina’s cheek, she stroked it softly and began moving it, so Cristina’s face was directly in line with her own. “Cristina” she spoke gently, still holding her cheek with her palm even though Cristina wasn’t trying to pull away, eyes staring at Meredith’s face as though she was only just realizing she was here. For a moment Meredith simply stared at Cristina, unable to remember what she’d been trying to do... until Cristina’s choked – sounding panting brought her back to the stomach-churning reality that her best friend still could not breathe.

carefully but determinedly, Meredith reached out her hand which was not cupping Cristina’s cheek to wrap around Cristina's hand, which was still gripping forcefully at her top. Meredith delicately removed it and brought it so that Cristina’s and was laid flat down over Meredith’s heart, Meredith’s hand placed over it to gently keep it in place. Cristina was clearly confused by all this but willingly allowed Meredith to do it all, and Meredith could not help but feel slightly warmed by the fact that Cristina clearly placed trust in her. “Right Cristina, we need to get you breathing alright?” Meredith muttered, making sure to keep eye contact with Cristina to calm her down, “now, all I need you to do is focus on my heartbeat, okay? Just feel how steady it is and keep taking deep breaths with me so we can get yours as steady as that too” Meredith then proceeded to take a deep breath and was instantly relieved when after a couple more Cristina began to copy her, her imitations were poor yes but blessedly there at any rate.

For a while they just sat there, no other sound in the room aside from their synchronized breathing. It took a while, but eventually Cristina’s breaths evened out, and her frame went from shaking to trembling too calmly still, eyes still looking deeply into Meredith’s all the while. Even after Cristina had calmed down Meredith didn’t move any of her hands, and Cristina gave no indication that she wanted her too. They ought to pull apart, said a little voice in the back of Meredith’s mind and yet... and yet Meredith found herself pulling closer, and Cristina it seemed was doing the same thing, moving further and further in until there was essentially no space between them, so close that Meredith could see every small detail of Cristina’s face (not like she didn’t know them already) they were already so close, but still both were leaning in further, almost as if they were going to --- going to

– but then Cristina turned her head away, breaking the eye contact Meredith had found herself getting lost in and subtly pulling herself away from Meredith’s touch, adopting the hunched-up physique she’d had before.

And it wasn’t like it was a surprise or anything, Meredith reminded herself, looking down and willing the flush that had taken up her face to disappear, after it was Cristina, Meredith knew she liked her personal space and everything. It made no sense for her to be disappointed, so why was she? I mean, what had she been expecting really? - what had she been expecting, really? Meredith felt herself get launched out of her confusing thoughts by the sound of Cristina clearing her throat and starting to mumble, so quiet that Meredith had to strain just to hear her. “-- and he had been in a car crash, and I ended up promising his daughter I'd save him and when I couldn’t, I just -” Cristina, then brought her head into her hands and breathed deeply for a minute, seemingly unable to continue. Meredith felt herself ache with sympathy. After all, she knew what it was like to get cases that reminded you of things you didn’t want to remember, even now she still hates having to treat alcoholics because it just reminded her of the situation with her dad too much and her dad was horrible but for Cristina, who had loved her dad so much and had been forced to watch him die.. To have to relive all that, it must have been excruciating, no wonder she ended up breaking down.

Meredith wouldn’t have even been able to stay on the case, no matter how good surgery it was. Go dhow she wished she could have Cristina’s bravery, to go through all that and still be able to work in Cardiothoracic surgery, the very area that must remind her the most of her father’s death... it’s commendable. Meredith was pulled out of her thoughts yet again by the sound of Cristina continuing, her voice slightly louder but no less shaken “anyway, it all just reminded me about it and I just fell apart and thank you, for dealing with all this, though if you tell anyone stab you just so I get to operate on you.” “you’d probably be the one skilled enough to not kill me.” Meredith joked, both laughing a lot more than the comment deserved, probably to get rid of any lingering awkwardness left after their... moment. (Though it wasn’t like anything happened, Meredith reasoned with herself, why would it be awkward if nothing happened right?) After Cristina stopped laughing, she let out a long yawn and checked her watch, face giving of a slightly shocked expression when she read the time there. “it’s 7:30? My shift is over, how long have I been in here?”

Meredith herself was quite shocked with the time, it meant that she’d been in here for over 40 minutes and that couldn’t be right... anyway, best not to contemplate it, Meredith decided. Getting up and stretching out slightly “we’d better get going then” she stated, already turning towards the door. Cristina however, stayed sitting, and asked confusedly “wait, we?” “Well, you're staying round mine tonight, aren’t you?” Meredith answered, pulling Cristina onto her feet and hoping her casual attitude had hidden how much she wanted Cristina to stay with her tonight, only to keep an eye on her of course. Upon hearing the words, Cristina’s facial expression shifted rapidly from confusion to relief to apprehension to one Meredith couldn’t quite make out, a rarity when it came to knowing Cristina. Deciding not to dwell on it, Meredith quickly took hold of Cristina’s wrist and pulled her swiftly out of the room shutting the door, and all that had happened in it, behind her.

********

Cristina lay awake on Meredith’s couch, hearing Meredith’s snoring from all the way upstairs and wondering how she could be so stupid.

The evening had gone quite well, all things considered. After Meredith had witnessed her meltdown, Cristina had essentially planned to spend the evening hidden in another remote corner of the hospital (a place with a locked door this time) and try to avoid contact with any living being for as long as she could manage. But at Meredith’s offer, or order rather, Cristina had at first been relieved at the thought of spending the evening with Meredith, maybe even curling up with her tonight and not having to face her nightmares alone tonight... but then she remembered the promise she’d made to herself only this morning about taking care of Meredith instead of dumping her own personal problems on her. She'd already partially failed with her little panic attack fiasco; she’d rather not slip any further. Besides, after everything that had just happened, Cristina didn’t want Meredith to think she had any ulterior motive to get into bed with her.

In the moment, when it was so dark and quiet, and Meredith’s shining eyes locked onto hers, nothing separating them... Cristina truly didn’t know what she’d been thinking. She'd just found herself leaning closer and closer, suddenly needing to see Meredith closer, get every detail, maybe even close enough to... to do what? Cristina asked herself, turning away from Meredith just in time to not do anything monumentally idiotic. What was she thinking? One second more and she might have irreparably damaged her friendship with Meredith forever, and she couldn’t risk that. She didn’t even know what she’d wanted to do anyway, just got caught up in the moment is all. Dark supply closets could be a surprisingly effective mood setter it turned out. Anyway, all Cristina could do was pretend that the moment never happened (and it probably didn’t for Meredith anyway. Her leaning in too was probably just wishful thinking on Cristina’s part) and pray that Meredith would forget about it.

After Meredith dragged her out of the closet, Cristina considered herself lucky that Meredith had gotten over it it seemed, or had never known the moment had had happened at all, (which was good, Cristina shouldn’t feel a kind of longing at that fact, should she?) and both quickly and stealthily (or an attempt at stealthily, which seemed to involve a lot of childish giggling, a rare act for the both of them) snuck past the main reception and ran through the entrance, both ungracefully piling into Meredith’s car and driving back to Meredith’s house, both lost in their own thoughts so they drove in a comfortable silence. By the time they’d gotten back they were both too tired to make any attempt at dinner and instead chose to make about 5 bowls of popcorn, then falling onto the couch together as Meredith hazardly pulled a blanket over both. (something that did not make Cristina blush thank you very much)

After a day like this both would usually dance it out with each other but tonight there was a unanimous decision that they were both too tired to get up, let alone dance. So instead, they put on a crappy soap opera show from the 1960’s called ‘days of our lives’ and made endless fun of it. Both getting more and more into the ridicule the longer the show was on, starting to do imitations of the characters and then scream at the television for the medical inaccuracies before falling over each other laughing. A few hours later and they’d both settled down quite a bit, Cristina slipping in and out of a doze as she stared at the tv screen, unintentionally leaning heavily on Meredith’s shoulder as she did so. Not that Meredith seemed to mind too much, instead leaning somewhat on Cristina herself, arm wrapped casually around her shoulders as she placed her head on top of Cristina’s. It felt... right somehow, them like this, almost as if they fitted this way, and for the first time in a long time Cristina felt like they were back to their old selves. But their last fight still hung ominously over Cristina’s head like a storm cloud, reminding her that if she pushed her luck, she might end up getting her hopes rained on, wet and cold and ignored as Meredith went and hung out with Izzie and Alex and George and Mc Perfect. Cristina didn’t have anyone besides Meredith, not like she’d change that for the world but still this is what made Cristina pause as Meredith suggested they ought to go to bed, Cristina deciding that the risk of Meredith finding about her nightmares was too high and suggesting, despite how much it ate her up inside to do so, that she slept on the couch tonight.

Meredith’s expression shifted a moment too - was that disappointment? - until they schooled into a mask of neutrality and in a monotone voice said that it was whatever Cristina wanted. Cristina opened her mouth then, hoping to rectify the situation somehow though she had no clue how – but Meredith was already turning on her heel and walking briskly up the stairs, not looking back in Cristina’s direction. Feeling alone and dejected, Cristina went to lay on the sofa and wrap the blanket around herself tightly, the end Meredith had tucked under her chin as though it was some kind of security blanket. Withought really thinking about it, Cristina lifted it up and breathed into the blanket, tears forming in her eyes at the achingly familiar smell. Even though she’d done this to save her and Meredith’s relationship, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d lost something precious tonight, something special, sacred and secret to her and Meredith, something she’d never get back.

Too late now, she reminded herself harshly, ignoring her tears even as they rolled down her face, landing in the blanket she still had tucked around her nose. Meredith had Derek, and she had Owen (did she though? after tonight, she wasn’t sure she wanted to) and Cristina couldn’t have expected everything to stay the same forever, no matter how much she wanted it to. It was high time she grew up and moved on, she wasn’t a child, she didn’t need to be held like one. And now hear she was, snivelling pitifully and resolving to leave before Meredith woke up and try and put this whole embarrassing ordeal behind her, Cristina curled in further on herself and found herself, annoyingly in a childish fashion, crying herself to sleep.

Cristina was staring out of the window, watching the blurring line of houses and trees as they passed by and trying to figure out where on earth she was. She was in a car, that was certain, and it was going way faster than it should have been, making everything feel out of focus, as though everything had a fuzzy outline, as though it wasn’t real. Everything in her head was fuzzy too, thoughts becoming half formed before they disappeared entirely, though one thing she couldn’t get out of her head was the nagging feeling that she had to tell someone something, something very important, some kind of warning. As the car continued to pick up speed, adding nausea to Cristina’s already disoriented senses, she desperately tried to recall what she needed to say and to who – and it suddenly struck her as they pulled up to the motorway and Cristina saw two cars further up the road collide into each other, metal scraping and motion sensors blaring as the two cars underwent a metamorphosis into a twisted up pile of burning metal.

Then she knew that if she turned the other way now, she’d see her father, still focused on getting onto the motorway to notice the crash and then Cristina knew what she had to say, that she had to warn him, so she tugged on his sleeve and got him to look at her – but that was the mistake she’d made last time, because then he’d been focused on her instead of the car that was coming right towards them, out of control, at just the right angle to hit her dad’s side instead of Her's and she let out a scream of what? Warning? Terror? Remorse? But it didn’t matter, it was too late as the vehicle crashed into them, impact causing Cristina to hurtle forward, perception totally thrown and yet she was still able to watch as the windshield shattered, a myriad of metal and glass pieces hurtling through the air, staining her father’s seat with blood...

And then she was on the pavement, she didn’t know how, and her father was gone but the car crash was still there, it had to be as Cristina could feel oil, warm and sticky coating the floor around her, smell metallic and sickening and yet – and yet when she looked down it wasn’t oil she saw, no it was blood, a long winding trail of it leading to a person. A person with honey-coloured blond hair and intelligent, enchanted blue eyes she knew all too well, that were closed now. But in unconsciousness or in death Cristina didn’t know, the same way she didn’t know how Meredith, her Meredith, had ended up on the side of the road bleeding out in front of her. And the same way she didn’t know why she couldn’t reach her, no matter how much she cried and tried desperately to pull herself towards Meredith’s much too still form she couldn’t, held back by some unknown force. And there was a voice somewhere, but it was too quiet for Cristina to hear, and she didn’t really care as she watched the woman she loved die, pulling against her restraints uselessly as she had to relive the overwhelming feelings of grief and pain she had the first time knowing, as much as she wished not to believe it, that she’d failed again...

Cristina woke up gasping, a newfound sense of fear overtaking her as the lines between waking and dreaming blended together and she could still feel herself being held back, body writhing and twisting as she tried to free herself from the unrelenting grip – that was Meredith holding her, she realized, as the sofa and the room came into focus and she was suddenly distinctly aware that the disembodied voice she’d heard in her dream had belonged to Meredith, words still indetermined due to the rushing in Cristina’s ears and the constant pounding in her head yet the tone was soothing and concerned. Her arms, which she’d first perceived to be mocking restraints she now realized were a gentle, comforting hold, Meredith sitting up behind Cristina with Cristina leaning against her left side, legs entangled with hers and head resting on her shoulder as Meredith still held her securely, one of her hands coming up to gently stroke through Cristina’s unkept locks, her entire frame was against Cristina in a way that was both wonderfully and terrifyingly intimate.

And she could run, Cristina told herself, even as she felt herself lean further into the touch, yes, she could get right out of the house, drive or walk home for all she cared, she could even switch hospitals and pretend this had never happened. She could have done that, but Cristina instead finally allowed herself to admit that she truly didn’t want to. With that, she buried her face into the crook between Meredith’s shoulder and neck and gave in. She went limp in Meredith’s embrace and cried, everything that had happened today and in the past few months finally catching up with her as Merdedith pulled her impossibly closer, arms coming up to wrap securely around Cristina’s shuddering frame, rubbing her back and simply giving Cristina time to let it all out, crying into Meredith’s shoulder for what felt like hours until finally Cristina felt her tears run out and she then just rested against Meredith, content with enjoying the feeling of Meredith stroking her hair and rubbing her hand soothingly up and down her back, allowing her mind to shut down for a minute and giving in to the simple pleasure that was Meredith holding her, making her feel more safe and secure than she had in a long time.

That feeling did not last long though, as soon Cristina felt doubt crawl into her mind, burrowing itself into her wants and desires and making her ask the question before she even realized she meant to. “Why?” Cristina whispered from her spot-on Meredith’s shoulder, wishing her voice didn’t sound as pitiful as it did then. “Why what?” Meredith asked quietly, continuing to stroke Cristina’s hair, making Cristina question whether she needed to ask this question, but pressed on anyway. “Why are you doing this, taking me back to your house and everything. It's not like you need to, you don’t owe me anything, so why are you doing it?” Cristina’s tone came out more bitter than she’d intended, but she ignored that in favour of waiting for Meredith’s answer. Meredith paused her gentle ministrations then and gently turned so Cristina was no longer on her shoulder and they were facing each other, Meredith’s hand resting on Cristina’s cheek, the same place from earlier that afternoon.

Meredith didn’t answer immediately, instead she studied Cristina, whose face was pinched slightly, eyes shining with unshed tears which she refused to let fall down her face, trying to keep her expression neutral but she couldn’t hide the slight trembling in her frame, even as she tried resolutely to stay still. Meredith continued to look at her for a few moments before softly speaking “because you're my person Cristina, and I'm yours.”

“No!” Cristina commanded, swallowing thickly to try and push back the sob trying to claw its way out of her throat, pulling Meredith’s hand firmly away from her face and swiftly pulling herself to standing, despite the spinning that began in her head from standing up so quickly, as she tried to ignore how cold she felt withought Meredith’s warmth surrounding her. Meredith then stood up quickly as well, and reached out a hand to Cristina, which caused her to take another step back, trembling getting more prominent all the while. “Cristina...” she began, brow furrowed in confusion and worry. “No Meredith” Cristina interrupted, arms coming to wrap around herself in what was supposed to be a dominant stance but instead just made her look even smaller and uncertain, a few stray tears managing to make their way down her face. “No, I I'm not your person anymore Meredith. You've got Derek now; you should both just go and build your magical forest house and live happily ever after, okay?” Meredith then took a step forward then, which caused Cristina to try and take another step backwards, but Meredith caught her wrist, making Cristina feel like a wild animal, trapped in Meredith’s unrelenting, piercing gaze. Meredith then, in a much clearer and determined voice spoke “No Cristina, not okay.”

Cristina tried to pull away from Meredith’s grip to no avail, and irritably snapped "Meredith, you can’t just - “but felt her voice run dry as Meredith took another step, closing the gap between them by wrapping her arm around Cristina’s waist, pulling them together until they were barely an inch apart, Meredith’s other hand letting go of Cristina’s wrist to cup her cheek yet again, stroking it gently and keeping her gaze locked onto Cristina as she spoke, gentler now. “Cristina Yang, you have, and always will be my person. Me and Derek are over now, and honestly, I'm happy about that. But even if we weren’t I'd still be your person. Derek wasn’t the one who I read my mother’s journals with at 2 am, you were. Derek wasn’t the one who I spent every morning with, you were. Derek isn’t the one who knows all my secrets, all my bad days, all my good days, my fears, my dreams, my...” she paused then, her breath speeding up slightly, Cristina’s caught in her throat, both lost in the other’s stare as time seemed to freeze for a moment, Meredith’s next words coming out as breathless whisper.

“My desires.” and Cristina couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, she was shocked, she was terrified, she was needy, she was hopeful, she was amazed, she was certain, she wasn’t certain, and she was leaning in, and Meredith was leaning in, she closed her eyes... and pressed her lips against Meredith’s, hands coming up to frame Meredith’s face, pulling her in closer, deeper.

And Cristina could give the usual spiel about fireworks and butterflies and the feelings of excitement, of the freshness of a first kiss. But the truth was, this didn’t feel like a first kiss. It felt right, like it had always been, and had always meant to happen, her and Meredith were just very slow on picking up the signs. She didn’t know how long they were there, kissing in the darkness of Meredith’s living room, the kissing was slow and steady and constant, on its own rhythm, almost as if they had somehow turned kissing into dancing, every movement assured and certain, each one of them somehow knowing just where to go and just what to do. But it was also a little messy, a couple of surprises along the way, and she loved that too. It was romantic, it was calming, it was overwhelming, and yes, maybe Cristina would include some of the fireworks and butterflies because they were there too, this feeling of something new and wonderful and magical that Cristina didn’t know if it was ever going to happen again and so she savoured it, every beautiful moment of it, giving everything she had until her lungs were fire and they pulled apart, content beyond believe and immediately wanting more. To try and describe it completely felt like a waste of time, the closest Cristina could get would be imperfect perfection, which seemed just right for the two of them.

After they’d pulled apart, both breathing heavily with nearly identical smiles on their faces, they stood in a comfortable silence, giving themselves time to get their breathing under control and to try and come to terms with the incredible, and yet no less surprising thing that had just happened. It was Meredith who broke the silence first “why exactly have we been wasting our time with boyfriends?” she asked, with a playful smirk on her face. The comment got Cristina laughing, and soon they both were, the shock of what had just happened finally fading away to happiness as Cristina was now certain that Meredith had enjoyed it just as much as she had. When the laughter finally died down, Cristina looked at Meredith, a fresh wave of joy flowing through her as she took in her smiling, caring expression, and said quietly “what do you want to do now?”

Meredith thought for a moment, twirling her finger around Cristina’s curls whilst she did so (not that Cristina minded at all) before replying “well as much as I'd love to stand here all night and kiss you, I think both of us need quite a lot of sleep.” For a moment Cristina felt like arguing, after all, spending all night kissing didn’t seem like the worst option in the world, but the realization of just how tired she really was dawned on her quickly, and she decided that yes, perhaps sleep was a good idea. And so, she nodded at Meredith who then gave Cristina a quick kiss on the cheek, which caused Cristina’s blush to navigate its way back to her cheeks, before taking Cristina’s hand casually in her own and leading them both up the stairs, Cristina following her this time without uncertainty. They both made their way to Meredith’s room (thank God Alex and Izzie were on-call tonight, this would certainly raise some questions) and Meredith onehandedly threw back the covers pulling both her and Cristina on to the bed in an inelegant fashion.

Both then collapsed in the bed, Meredith in the centre of the bed with her arm wrapped around Cristina’s shoulders, Cristina turned into Meredith sideways with her arm wrapped tightly around Meredith’s waist. Their legs were entangled once again and Cristina’s head was lying directly next to Meredith’s on the same pillow, the duvet cocooned around them to keep them warm. Meredith began stroking Cristina’s hair and Cristina sighed contently, smiling sleepily at Meredith as she leaned in closer to place one quick, gentle kiss on her lips. Meredith returned the kiss and then came back slightly, smiling as she gently pulled Cristina forward slightly, so her head was resting against Meredith's shoulder, Meredith’s arms coming to encircle Cristina so that they were essentially locked together, not an inch of space between them. Cristina melted into Meredith’s warmth and shut her eyes, allowing all other thoughts to leave her head. Yes, the morning may come with problems and cases and worries, but right now, in the warm, safe space that was Meredith’s embrace, all Cristina had to do was let the slow, soft and safe stoke of Meredith’s hand on her hair send her of into a painless, dreamless sleep...

The end.