"Last One Standing" 1/1, Cristina, PG
This is actually my second GA fic, but the first one is still at the beta readers. *pouts* They need to hurry up so I can post it! I'm an instant gratification seeker.
Title: Last One Standing
Author: blood_on_thorns
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Cristina, thinking about Burke
Classification: Post-romance
Rating: PG
Word Count: 635
Disclaimer: This show is the brilliant work of one Shonda Rhimes, although I wish she'd pull her head out of her ass and quit with the creepy Denny stuff and let poor Izzie be happy.
Summary: Cristina realizes that Burke actually gave her a gift when he left. Set after The Wedding That Wasn't, or the S3 finale.
I couldn’t cry. I was never a crier, never would be a crier, but I’d just been left at the freaking altar. Or the door to the church, whatever. You’d think if there was ever a time in my life I could cry, it would be now.
Instead, I’m laying in bed, dry-eyed, staring at the ceiling. Burke’s freaking ceiling. In Burke’s freaking apartment. Burke’s freaking perfect apartment.
Everyone said I was the one who was supposed to screw up. Everyone expected me to freak out and leave the country or become a lesbian so that I didn’t have to get married. Burke always believed in me, even when he didn’t. He trusted me to not break his heart despite the fact that I proved time and time again that I was a flight risk.
But I didn’t screw up. I didn’t leave the country or become a lesbian. Of course I freaked out. There’s no way I wouldn’t have freaked out. But when it came right down to it, I did it. I freaking stood up and did it. Okay, well, I didn’t actually do it, but that was Burke’s fault, not mine. I was going to do it, and that’s what matters.
“Cristina?”
“I didn’t slit my wrists with one of Burke’s perfect freaking cooking knives, if that‘s what you‘re worried about,” I muttered as Meredith appeared in the doorway.
“I didn’t think you did. You’re not the wrist-slitting type. You’d go in for something a lot gorier, like throwing yourself off the space needle.” Meredith grinned as she sat down on the bed. “I just thought I’d offer you some company, in case you want it.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry, but it’s not your company I want’? ‘Yeah I want company, but I’d rather it be my husband’s’?
She took my hand and gave me that Meredith ‘I’m sorry your life is crap’ sympathetic smile she’s so good at. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Yes. No. I don’t freaking know. I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with Burke. But Burke, apparently, doesn’t want to be with me. After nearly three years of making me feel like the bad guy, he ups and pulls the most asshole move possible. A thousand, wait, a million times worse than anything I ever did to him.
Every second of guilt I ever felt over anything I ever did that upset him or made him unhappy, it’s gone now. I don’t feel bad for him. Asshole. Freaking asshole.
I sat up and turned, giving Meredith a wondering smile. “I’m the good guy. Finally, I’m the freaking good guy.”
She cocked her head. “I’m not quite sure where that came from or where it’s going.”
“Don’t you see? Burke always made me the bad guy. I was always the one with uncertainties, I was always the one that had to be dragged kicking and screaming into every next step of our relationship, and he always made me feel bad about it. He made me feel like there was something wrong with me and that he was this patient, amazing guy who I better never let get away. But in the end, he’s the one who left me. He’s the one who broke my heart. He’s the one who couldn’t do it. So I’m the good guy. I’m the one who stuck it out and was there until the end. I’m the one who said yes.”
Meredith smiled. “You are. You’re the good guy.”
I swung my feet off the bed and started digging in the closet. “Go home. Get your best beach clothes. We’re going on a honeymoon.”
Meredith laughed. “But you never even proposed!”
I turned to face her and grinned fiercely. “Screw marriage.”