This story was written for jeribearRN for the SupportStacie.net fanfic auction and is posted with Jer's permission.  This fic marks the first time I've written GA that isn't all about Addison in one way or another... but it was totally fun (even if I was worried about whether or not I could do it, lol).

"The Preston Burke I know is a better man than that."

Friends were something Preston valued greatly, especially after having been that kid who was always too smart or too polite or too something to be popular when he was growing up.  In his adult life, he'd found few he believed were people he'd still know when he was old and gray, but Addison Montgomery was one of them.  So when her voice came to him through phone filled with disappointment, it stung.

Months removed from their shared life in Seattle, Addison was settled in Los Angeles and Burke was enjoying life in Minnesota as the new head of Cardio at the Mayo Clinic.  They were both insanely busy, but e-mails and quick phone calls kept them in touch, and he was incredibly grateful for the familiar connection that was, at the same time, so far from his old life.  While he still thought fondly of so many people at Seattle Grace, he couldn't really bear to hear about what was going on there.  Addison felt similarly, though she did still keep in touch with Bailey and the Chief.

The phone call that had occasioned Addison's honest if wrenching commentary had come the evening his Harper Avery award had been announced.  His phone had been ringing off the hook all day long, and he'd let several calls go to voice mail.  But the neonatal surgeon had been in surgery and hadn't had a chance to call until Preston was already home from a celebratory dinner with the board.  When he saw her name flash on the caller I.D., he'd settled back into his favorite chair and answered.

"Dr. Montgomery.  To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I heard you walk on water now, and I was wondering if I could get a private show."

Burke laughed.  Very few people teased him, his serious demeanor discouraging it without much being said, but Addison had always been able to, really from the very first day they'd met.

"It's more of a skim than an actual walk."

Her laugh echoed over the phone.  "Well, impressive as the award is, the article was fantastic.  Really, Preston, what you've done with the suturing technique is going to save a lot of lives."

There was no denying the pride he felt at that comment.  Sure, having the board say it or the award committee declare it was wonderful.  But his respect for Addison as a doctor was immense, and so her acknowledgement meant the world to him.  Which was why, of course, her next remarks were so hard to hear.

"You know, I realize there's a school of thought that thinks it's okay to leave out the people who help you do the research.  You're the surgeon, after all.  You've assumed all the risk.  And I understand it.  But you and I were both residents lucky enough to have mentors who didn't believe in that approach, who thought hard work should always be rewarded, and it brought us both early attention we might not have gotten otherwise.  So I was a little surprised that you didn't at least mention Yang."

"Addison, that's... I respect your point of view, but I was working on this project long before Cristina came to Seattle Grace."

"I know.  I also know that you would still be working on it if her work ethic wasn't bordering on self-destructive.  But like I said, it's not as if a lot of other surgeons wouldn't agree with your choice to leave her out."

He sighed, wanting to leave this topic but knowing his friendship with Addison was too important not to see the conversation through.

"But?"

There was a long pause, and then he heard her take a deep breath.

"I might not agree with the choice, but I hope you left her name out of the article because you've become one of those doctors who think residents and interns don't count.  Because my first thought, Preston, was that you didn't mention her because of what happened between the two of you outside of the hospital and...  the Preston Burke I know is a better man than that."

The accusation had flared his temper, though he had not shown that to Addison, recognizing that she was only being honest with him because she respected him enough to be so and believed their friendship was strong enough to handle it.  And it was.  But that didn't mean he liked having his motives questioned, especially on this specific point.  No one else had brought Cristina up to him that day--not Richard, not his parents.  And yet Addison's query had set Burke's mind off down a path that he had forced it to avoid for all the weeks he had been chronicling his research data.

He hadn't seen Cristina since that day in the church, his choice dictated by a belief that it all just being over was the best thing for both of them.  Instead of seeing her again, instead of hashing it all out, he had packed up the most important things in his life and headed to the airport, ready to move on, hopeful that in letting her go, he'd given them both some peace.

What Preston would never have imagined was that a single comment from a trusted friend would be enough to undo all the work he had put into not thinking about Cristina in any way since he'd ended his temporary stay at his parents' home and headed for Minnesota and the promise of a fresh start at Mayo.  His new job had given him hallways empty of gossip about his love life, a walk to his car that didn't carry an echo of a gunshot that had nearly destroyed him and freedom from the guilt he felt at having wanted a happy ending with Cristina so badly that he'd stopped looking at whether or not their versions of a happy ending were the same.

He kept thinking about that last day... how beautiful Cristina had looked and yet how completely different from herself.  That's really what had done it, what had snapped him out of his vision of "Preston's perfect world" and made him see what was happening.  She was marrying him for him... because it was what he wanted... and because she was afraid to lose him if she didn't give in.  And that, he knew, wasn't a good enough reason for her to vow to stay.  He wanted her to want to be there.  And so he'd let her go... which really all would've been noble except for the thing that Addison could sense in him.

He blamed Cristina for his choice.

He blamed her for not being ready, for not standing her ground, for not demanding he see her side of things.  And Preston knew absolutely that he was wrong.  There was no debate needed and no one had to tell him.  She had been trying to do what she thought she should do, what she'd convinced herself she wanted to do, not to mention what she thought he wanted.  She had done it not just out of fear but out of love for him.  He was completely wrong to lay the blame at her feet.  And yet... the only way he could find any peace with it all, that he could live with their ending, was to cast her as at least a co-conspirator in their destruction if not the villain in the story.

But once the question had been asked, the suggestion released into the air, Preston Burke started to worry that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't left any mention of his former fiancée and protégé out of the journal article that accompanied his Harper Avery award because he outranked her and it was his project. 

The idea that he could have been that petty and cruel broke his heart, and he'd gone into complete denial at the first consideration of his motives.  But in the quieter moments of his life--when he was stacking firewood in the storage shed of his new home, when he was rehearsing a surgery, even in the pool as he swam laps to keep his once injured shoulder loose and strong--the question would return to him, and the little bits of evidence that proved he had a reason to look deeper began to pop up. 

Had there been moments when he thought he should mention her? Yes.  Had he dismissed them easily?  No, but then he'd told himself it wasn't difficult.  As Addison had confirmed, there were lead researchers and surgeons the world over who didn't credit interns, assistants or residents for what was essentially doing their job.  That's what he had done.  And even though he was angry with her, however unjustly, he didn't want to hurt her.  Even if he didn't acknowledge it often, Preston knew that he was still in love with Cristina... there hadn't been enough time or distance or anger to change that.

It was during a tense moment in surgery one day as he worked his new suturing technique to stop an aortic bleed that Burke came to grips with what his real feelings were about the article, about Cristina's name not being in it and about his choice to leave it out.  And as the realization settled into his soul, as it made him face what he had been running from for months, the single remedy he could imagine to make it right loomed unpleasantly in his mind.

He heard the whispers the moment he stepped through the doors.  "He's back.  Does she know?  Did anyone hear he was coming?  Is he staying?  Is he here for her?"

Burke ignored the murmur his arrival had caused and made his way to Richard's office.  Patricia greeted him warmly and showed him in, and the chief stood, hands on hips, a stern look on his face.

"You couldn't wait to leave until after you won the damn award?"

A smile tugged at the corner's of Preston's mouth.  It was good to know some things never changed.

"I did make sure to note that I completed all my research here at Seattle Grace.  I only did the publishing after I left."

"Semantics.  You owe me, Burke."

"Consider me in your debt, Chief."

Webber chuckled and walked over, arms wide open.  The two laughed as they hugged.

"How long are you in town for?"

Preston shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  A few days, I'd guess.  I have some loose ends to tie up."

"Well, if you see any surgeries on the board that catch your eye, you let me know.  I'd be happy to kick someone out of an O.R. for you."

"Chief, I believe you mean that."

"Don't doubt it for a second."

They stood and stared at each other a moment before the chief cleared his throat and lowered his voice even though no one else was around to hear them speaking.

"Does she know you're here?"

Burke shook his head.

"Well, tread lightly, my friend.  She's had... I'm not saying this to try to make you feel responsible for it, but she's had a tough time here since you left."

The temptation to ask Richard for more information was strong, but Burke had a feeling he should see Cristina for himself--get her reactions, see how she was--firsthand.  So with a promise made to meet up with the Webbers for dinner, he left the cocoon of Richard's office and made his way back out into the halls.

Part of why he had left Seattle had been the reality that he'd never be able to let Cristina go if he'd stayed.  They had tried that already, but she had been everywhere in this hospital after just a few short months in his life... he couldn't step into an O.R. without thinking she belonged next to him, couldn't settle into an on-call room to sleep without remembering how she felt laying beside him.  Once they had reconciled and moved in together, that connection only deepened.  He simply had not seen how they could co-exist in the same space and not be together, and so he had left the space to make it bearable.

Back in that space now, Burke felt her presence even when he couldn't see her.  He remembered without much effort what her footfalls sounded like in the hallway as she came up behind him ready to campaign for a surgery; his eyes scanned across on-call room doors and memories of quiet moments within flooded his mind.  One particular image brought moisture to his eyes... the day she had comforted him after even his finely skilled hands hand been unable to save Eugene Foot, the master musician's heart silenced by disease.

That had been the first time, but certainly not the last, when he equated Cristina's effect upon him with the music of the man who had so inspired him.  He was drawn to both and they each made him feel things on a level unlike anything else in his life.  The association was part of the reason he no longer played Eugene's CDs during surgery.  Being haunted in the O.R. was not good for him or his patients.

Some of the looks Burke received as he made his way toward the surgical board gave him new empathy for what Addison's first days here must have been like as she was revealed to be the unknown wife who had cheated on McDreamy.  The scrutiny was intense, but he ignored most of it, smiling to familiar staffers, but mostly making his way with an eye out for the woman he had come here to see.

The board was filled this morning, packed with surgeries and surgeons, just the way Richard liked it.  Burke saw that Shepherd was repairing an aneurysm with Grey assisting in O.R. one.  O'Malley and Stevens were on a stomach cancer resection with Bailey.  Erica Hahn was performing a bypass with... Karev?  That surprised him.  But it didn't surprise him half as much as it did to see that Yang was in an O.R. with Callie Torres.

The observation room for O.R. four was fairly empty, a few interns using it to study or catch some sleep under the guise of "watching" the procedure below.  None of them paid much attention to Preston as he slipped inside and tucked himself into a back corner, his back resting against the wall.  From there, he could see the doctors below working to surgically repair the left shoulder of the patient from a severe rotator cuff tear and impingement.  Torres looked completely in her element.  Cristina's body language spoke volumes about how unhappy she was to be there, though.

"Pick your chin up off my patient, Yang, or you can go work in the pit."

Cristina straightened her posture and refocused on the procedure.

"Am I supposed not to bitch to you about her now that you're friends?"

"Bitch away.  You listen to me snark on Stevens all day long.  Erica's fair game."

"You know, it would be one thing if she hated me because she'd actually spent enough time around me to have a reason.  But she just hates me with no good reason why.  I mean, hating me just because I hooked up with Burke is not a good reason.  She didn't even like Burke."

Preston fought down a smile at that comment, not wanting to do anything to draw the interns attention toward him, thereby perhaps gaining notice from down in the O.R.  Erica Hahn hated his guts.  And if she was being awful to Cristina, it was more likely punishment for the talented resident ever liking, let alone loving him.

"Well, I told her myself that you didn't get together with Burke just to get ahead."

"And what did she say?"

"She said I didn't know you when you got together with Burke, so I can't say why you did it.  Which is a fair point, I guess, but still... I was in your wedding.  Almost wedding.  Whatever.  I know you didn't go through all that with Burke just to...  I told her it's not true."

The reminder of the aborted wedding seemed to put Cristina back on her heels.  Though she stayed fully engaged in the surgery, she fell silent, and Burke felt a wave of guilt pass over him.  He was still an open wound to her, and he couldn't imagine anything she'd want less than to see him again, and yet he knew he had to face her in order to put this... them... to rest.

After overhearing the conversation, Burke didn't have the heart to keep touring the hospital nor did he feel comfortable going to seek out his old friends to catch up.  He was here for a very specific reason, and so he made his way to the hallway outside the scrub room to wait.  Nearly 40 minutes passed before the doors opened, and she emerged, pulling off her scrub cap, her hair tumbling free.  Torres walked beside her, and they were laughing about something as they came into the hall.

"All right, I'll head to post-op and then I'll catch up with you..."

Cristina's voice died out when she saw him and she stood still, eyes unmoving.  She remained silent as seconds ticked away on the clock on the wall behind her, as she kept her anger or disappointment or hurt bottled up--a reaction that was both characteristic and worrying.  After a beat, he moved forward, hands sliding into his pockets.

"Dr. Torres, it's good to see you."

Callie's eyes flitted from him to Cristina and back again.

"Uh, you--you, too.  I'm just gonna, uh... I have paperwork."

They stood alone then, Cristina still staring at him, still silent.

"How have you been?" he asked, knowing how loaded a question it was now from both Richard's comment earlier and from what he'd overheard.  But it was the only place he could think to start.

"How have I been?  Seriously?  How have I been?!  How have I... oh, you have got to be kidding me."

She moved past him, knocking her shoulder into his, and rushed down the hallway.  Because he'd been in this scene before, Burke knew the best thing to do was to stand his ground and give her time to flee.  When she was done processing his return, when she'd found Meredith and called him a few choice names and ranted about his nerve, she'd find him.

He just had to find the patience to wait.  He owed her that.  His impatience had already cost them both too much.

A trip back to the surgical board told him Cristina and Torres had alerted their various cohorts to his return.  Shepherd was waiting for him, a grin on his face.

"Wow, you really know how to get this place buzzing, don't you?"

"You're just glad to have the glare off of your messy love life for a change."

Derek raised his eyebrows, but he didn't deny it.

"Shepherd, tell me... how's Hahn fitting in?"

The look that crossed his former best man's face told him the answer before Derek actually spoke.

"She's a fantastic surgeon.  She's a bit... abrasive.  But she doesn't play favorites."

"She doesn't play favorites or she does the opposite and makes life impossible for residents she doesn't like?"

Derek released a deep breath and nodded.  "That one.  Where Cristina's concerned.  Which I'm guessing is what you wanted to know.  Yeah, things have been... there's been a lot of her at Mer's upset about Hahn from what I hear."

Preston nodded, sad to receive the confirmation.  Erica was a fantastic surgeon even if she wasn't him.  But the idea that Cristina was suffering professionally in his wake was difficult to handle.

"I've got another surgery in two hours and a few patients to check on," Shepherd announced, glancing at his watch.  "You around for a while?"

"A few days," Preston confirmed.  "We'll catch up later."

Derek headed off down the hall with a nod as voice rang out, capturing Burke's attention.

"You might be able to catch up with him later, but I know you better get over here right now."

Bailey was clearly still Bailey.  Chuckling, he turned to find her standing, hands on hips, at the bottom of the stairs, and after walking over to her, he found himself on the receiving end of a strong hug.

"You get tired of all that snow yet?"

"Miranda, it doesn't snow every day.  And it isn't winter yet."

"Uh-huh.  Fine.  Stay in Minnesota.  Of course, there's no me in Minnesota, which means you no longer have the best resident in the history of medicine at your disposal, but if you can live with that..."

"I do find myself bemoaning that fact every day," Burke replied, laughter rippling through him as he spoke.  "You could always come for a visit, whip one or two of my residents into shape."

Bailey scoffed.  "Please.  I got my hands full here with these fools.  You're just gonna have to suffer the consequences of your poor decision to leave me."

Preston was still laughing when he felt a hand against his back, and he turned to see a smiling Richard and a seriously annoyed Erica Hahn.

"Burke, glad I found you.  You remember Joseph Dell, don't you?"

"Yes, the Seattle High football player who developed an abnormal heartbeat.  We tried multiple therapies with no success, so we put him on the transplant list."

"Well, we've got a heart for him," Richard said.  "The Dells heard you were visiting, and they asked if you'd consider doing the surgery, since you were on Joseph's case before you left."

Now Burke understood Erica's sour mood.  And he didn't doubt that he knew exactly how the Dells had heard he was "visiting."  Richard had probably gone to see them the moment Burke left his office that morning.

"If that's what the patient wants, I'd be happy to step in.  Is the heart here?"

"Mercy West.  I assumed you'd want to harvest on your own."

"Yes, I'll take O'Malley with me for that."

"O'Malley's just an intern," Erica said, her disdain evident.  "Shouldn't you take--"

"Dr. O'Malley and I work well together," Preston countered, not entertaining the argument.  "What room is Joseph in?"

"2037, and you can have whoever you want on your team, of course."

Burke knew he was being manipulated.  Joseph Dell was a famous kid within the city limits, which meant having the Harper Avery award winner operating on him was newsworthy and Richard would be able to nab some good P.R. for the hospital if it all went well.  But that was fine with Burke, because without engineering anything himself, he'd just been handed an opportunity he'd have killed for after hearing about what had been going on at Seattle Grace in his absence.

"Thank you, Sir.  I'll take Dr. Yang.  Would you ask her to please start the prep?"

The look on Erica's face in that moment was worth whatever discomfort was going to come from staring at his ex-lover over an open chest in the O.R.

*****

Joseph Dell was a smart, funny 19-year-old kid who had watched a future in college and maybe professional football slip through his fingers after a run on a workout designed to mirror the famous off-season training regimen Jerry Rice had followed had left him clutching his chest and panicked because his heart was pounding so fast.  He'd been 18 then, and Burke had seen him in the E.R. and after diagnosing the abnormal heartbeat, he had put the teen on meds and broken the sad news that it was best he quit football, at least until they saw if the arrhythmias were controlled by the meds. 

A few weeks later, Joseph was back in the O.R. again, and it had taken a shock from the defibrillator to restart his heart.  They had changed his medication.  Six months later, he'd collapsed again and needed another defibrillator conversion to revive him.  They'd moved on to ablation therapy, but his heartbeat had continued to prove so irregular that transplant had been deemed the only possibility of truly saving him from the threat of a sudden cardiac death.

Burke was beyond thrilled that the young man was going to get that second chance at life.  Joseph had earned an academic scholarship to Stanford, which he'd delayed until after his treatment, but he wanted to become a researcher to figure out what had caused his heart problem in the first place.  It was one of the great mysteries of cardiothoracic medicine, and Preston imagined few people in the field had as much motivation to find that particular answer as Joseph did.

After meeting with the family, Burke headed to the locker room to change, and after pulling on the familiar dark blue scrubs, he reached into his briefcase and pulled out the patterned scrub cap he had thrown in "just in case."  O'Malley greeted him at the helicopter with a friendly embrace, and the two rushed off toward Mercy West and the waiting heart.

"How have things been, O'Malley?"

The younger man, who he'd so often referred to as "his guy" back in that other life from not so long ago inhaled deeply and shook his head.

"Starting life all over again, a redo... that seems like a pretty good idea right about now, Sir."

Burke put his hand on George's shoulder.

"The old life goes with you.  Until you settle it... it stays with you."

Just over an hour later, as Burke and O'Malley walked toward a Seattle Grace scrub room, he looked down and realized he was opening and closing his right hand.  It had become a nervous tick of sorts once Shepherd had finally repaired the nerve injury in his shoulder, and whenever he realized he was doing it, Burke let out a frustrated groan.  He was ready to be done with all that, and yet he knew until he did what he'd come here to do, nothing about that chapter in his life would ever really be finished.

His last surgery at Seattle Grace had been in an O.R. saving the birth mother of the twins Joe the Bartender and his partner had adopted.  He'd shared that final procedure with Addison, who had delivered the pre-term newborns, and then he'd practiced the vows he was supposed to say to Cristina later that day in a church filled with their friends and family.  Looking back, he wondered at how completely unaware he'd been in that moment how his life was about to change, that it would do so in a way that had nothing to do with the carefully made plans he'd plotted for his future.

What would life be like now, he wondered, if he'd just held his tongue, if he'd let Cristina make that walk down the aisle knowing that he was pushing her to do it before she was really ready?  Would they still be together?  Would they be happy?  Would he still be in a new place living a new life because they'd imploded anyway?

Preston pushed those unanswerable questions away as he and George entered the O.R.  O'Malley had already handed the heart off to the surgical team, and they were at work prepping the organ for implantation.  Erica had already prepped Joseph to receive his new heart, but she had apparently done so while keeping Cristina standing two feet away from the patient, allowing her to do nothing during the surgery.

A host of interns and residents were gathered in the O.R., eager for a chance to watch Preston Burke wield a scalpel, and as he cast his eyes up, he saw that the gallery was full as well, though likely for a far less scholarly reason.  Stevens, Grey and Karev were seated in the front row.  Torres, Bailey and the Chief were also there, a look of frustration written all over Richard's face.  Preston caught his eye and when he glanced sideways toward the scene at the table, he caught the slight nod of approval his former boss gave in response to the silent query.

"He's all set?" Burke asked, stepping over to take control of the O.R.

"Yep, I've done most of the work for you," Hahn replied, and she stepped back and moved to the other side of the table in preparation for helping him complete the transplant.

"Thank you for your help, Erica.  Dr. Yang, if you would?"

The air in the O.R. stood still as Cristina looked up at him, her eyes locking with his to make sure she hadn't misheard.  When he motioned toward the spot where Hahn was standing, the brunette moved forward.

"Preston?"

Erica's tone was challenging, but Burke simply moved his head from side to side, loosening his neck.

"Erica."

A moment passed, then two, and then finally the other woman stepped back and Cristina took up the position next to Joseph.

"Dr. O'Malley, our heart is ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then let's get started.  I'll begin where, O'Malley?"

"You'll connect the remains of the recipient left atrium with the donor heart's."

Burke nodded.  "Very good.  After that, Dr. Yang, would you please see to the inferior vena cava?  And I'll move on to the aorta."

Her eyes met his again, and she nodded, and then together, they went to work.

*****

He was headed upstairs to finally change back into street clothes when she found him in the stairwell.  They stood there on the landing, Cristina pacing back and forth for long moments before she finally stopped and leveled her gaze at him.

"Am I supposed to think you're a big hero now?  You come in and show Hahn up for my benefit, and I'm not supposed to hate you for leaving me here to carry our ghost all alone on my back?"

"No.  No, not at all.  I wanted the best surgeon by my side today, and so I chose the best.  You owe me nothing for that."

"You're damn right I owe you nothing," she said, her anger flaring even as she fought to keep it under control.  "You owe me, Burke.  You owe me!  You... I was... You just left me here!  And you took everything with you.  How could you do that?  What did I do to deserve that?"

The pain left behind in his wake raged out of her now, and Preston stood his ground, letting it wash over him.  That he did owe her... to stand there and hear it and to take it in.

When she didn't continue, when the fight to keep herself from crying started to become a losing battle, he put his hand on her arm, drawing her eyes to his.

"I'm sorry, Cristina.  It's so little to offer you, but it's the truth.  I am so very sorry for how things happened.  If I could take any of it back and save you what you're feeling now, what you've been feeling, I would."

"Stop it, okay?  Just stop.  I get that you changed your mind.  That's okay.  I get that you wanted a new start.  But you... you erased me.  It's like... it's like I was never there.  So I don't care if you're sorry.  I don't forgive you."

He took a slow, deep breath and nodded.  "Okay.  Then I'll tell you what I came here to tell you, if you'll listen, and then I'll never bother you again."

Cristina looked at him with a mix of exasperation and curiosity, her mind spinning.  He waited until finally she slapped her hands against her legs in a gesture of annoyance at him making her wait before he began to speak.

"I... I wanted so much for us, Cristina.  I wanted it deeply and I believed absolutely that it was all meant to be.  I wanted it so badly that I didn't listen when you were clearly trying to tell me that you weren't ready.  I'm... an arrogant man.  I couldn't imagine that you wouldn't want it all, too.  And when I said that if I loved you enough, I wouldn't have been waiting at the end of the aisle... what I should've said was that I did love you enough... to finally hear what you were trying to tell me.  And it was cowardly of me to run away.  It was cowardly and it was wrong.  But I... I was afraid that you didn't want that future I saw for us, that you weren't ready... because it was with me."

As he spoke, he watched her expressions change... the frustration melting away as she looked at him with doubt and surprise.  But when he'd questioned her commitment, she started to speak, and he quickly cut her off.

"You had told me you were in it, you wanted the long haul.  But I didn't believe you.  And that was my failing, not yours.  I let go to save myself from the fear that you might do it later.  That is on me."

He moved a step closer and put his hand on the railing to steady himself.  The hardest thing was still to come, but it was the most important part of what he was here to do.

"I didn't mention you in the article about the Harper Avery because... I'm still a coward.  It wasn't spite and it wasn't because you didn't deserve it.  It's because I was finally Preston Burke again, the one I thought I should be.  I wasn't Preston Burke, the surgeon who let the woman he loves risk her career to hide his frailty.  I wasn't Preston Burke, who lost out on chief of surgery because his own damn pride got in the way.  I denied you because I wanted to deny the past I was running from.  I did it because of me, Cristina, not because of you.  I was protecting myself again... again at your expense."

The pause was for him because he could feel his throat tightening, sense the emotion about to overwhelm him, and he wanted this to be calm and clear.  He wanted her to hear every word.

"As for erasing you... Cristina, you are a part of me.  I love you.  You will always be a part of what and who I am."

He wasn't sure what he'd expected from her after he'd finally finished.  She had no reason to forgive him and as she stood there silent, he reasoned that his realizations had come too late to preserve anything between them.  Because he had promised her he would leave her be after she'd heard him out, Preston sighed and then started past her toward the door.

"No, no, no."

Her voice made him turn back around, and she was looking at him with that annoyed, furious expression once again.

"You don't get to walk away again.  You don't get to decide that we're done with this and walk out the door and just go and leave me here to deal with this again.  This time, you hear me when I tell you that you are an idiot.  Because I love you, and you threw that away because you're a big scared baby, and I'm the one who's supposed to be scared here.  I'm the one that doesn't trust anything or anyone to last and I'm supposed to be the one who doubts that me, the single-minded, doesn't know if she wants kids, totally not domestic girl is enough for you.  How stupid are you?!  You're... you're you.  You're you, who loves me and my mess and my... my thing where I can barely say 'I love you' out loud when you're conscious enough to hear me.  And we're us -- we work too much and we love hearts and we think about surgery all the time.  You're Preston Burke, and I'm Cristina Yang... and who the hell do you think we're supposed to fit with if we don't fit with each other?!"

She stormed past him then, her hand falling on the doorknob.

"This time, I get to walk out.  And you can stand here and see what it feels like and wonder what happens next."

And he did stand there and watch as she walked out, the door clanking shut behind her. 

It felt like someone was squeezing his lungs.

It felt like he was walking down that aisle in the church again, afraid of losing what he wanted most.

It felt like he was a man who had just watched the woman he still loved walk away from him with no idea how to stop her.

*****

The "Journal" was asked by Harper Avery award winner Preston Burke to publish this letter as an additional comment on both his win and the ground-breaking research that netted the honor.

"It is after a period of deep introspection that I realize that I failed to include an important note in the discussion of my suture research and the work that went into what I hope will be a long-lasting contribution to the field of cardiothoracic surgery and to the forum of medicine I am so humbled to be a part of.

"My final year at Seattle Grace was marked not only by the completion of the aforementioned research, but by my good fortune in finding a partner who shared my drive and my vision for the future of cardiac surgery.  It is also true that during that year, I found myself at the lowest point in my life and in that time of doubt and fear, one hand steadfastly held to mine, guiding me back to myself and to the work that is my calling in this life.

"Dr. Cristina Yang is one of the finest surgical residents I have ever had the pleasure of working with, and the patients who will have her caring for them as her training continues at Seattle Grace should know that they are in hands that helped to improve the quality of care they are receiving.

"I thank The 'Journal' for allowing me the chance to publicly thank Dr. Yang for her contributions, and to again acknowledge my gratitude for the support I received during my time at Seattle Grace.

Preston Burke, M.D., Head of Cardiology, Mayo Clinic."

He had taped the letter to her locker door with a note telling her it would run in the next issue of the "Journal of Cardiothoracic Surgery."  The editor had been understanding about the urgency if a little stunned at the early morning phone call, and given that Burke was the current Harper Avery recipient, it wasn't too big a favor to ask to change out part of the "Letters to the Editor" section.

It was too little too late, but he owed them both the truth... the truth of her part in his success and his ability to own that success in the face of the dark times that had threatened it.  And with his mission complete, Burke was resigned to heading home, and to the beginning of a new struggle... finding a way to forgive himself for having given up too soon on the most important thing in his life.

When she walked in to the locker room and stood staring at him, he thought a million things.  He thought about apologizing again... about asking her to come with him... about telling Richard he'd made a mistake and requesting to come home.  But what he did... what he did as she stood calmly and peacefully just waiting for him to do something... was walk over and kiss her.

When he pulled back, she looked at him incredulously, and then she slapped him, hard, his cheek stinging.  And then her hand settled against the very skin she'd just abused, touching it gently, and she pulled him to her and kissed him.

"I don't forgive you yet," she said as they both fought to catch their breath.

"I'm willing to keep trying until you do... if you'll let me."

"You run out on me again, and I'm putting a scalpel through your hand.  And for real, that's a serious thing.  I'm not kidding."

Preston laughed and snuggled his forehead against hers.

"I believe you."

"It snows in Minnesota," she said, a slight whine in her voice.

"It rains here."

"I'm from California... the not-snowy part of California.  Rain I can handle."

"I heard you gave up my apartment."

"No, I gave up my apartment.  You left, remember?"

"I have a house in Minnesota," he told her, his hands drifting down to rest on her hips.  "It has a fireplace and three bathrooms.  More places for you to leave dirty towels."

That made her crack a smile.

"You're happy there?"

He couldn't lie to her.

"I am.  It's an amazing place to be.  But if you want me to come back..."

She shook her head and sighed.

"No.  We're not those people.  You don't leave a great hospital for me and I don't transfer programs for you.  We'll just... fly.  Only in the wintertime, you have to do all the traveling, because I'm still a resident, and I can't afford to get stuck in Middle Of Nowhere, Minnesota, when I need to be back in Seattle to steal surgeries."

"I'll do all the traveling in the winter.  I promise."

He drew her into another kiss then, and she laced her arms around his neck.

"It was a good apology.  It was very late.  But it was good.  Still, not forgiven yet."

"Is there anything I can do to help my cause?"

"I'm scrubbing in on a reconstruction and microsurgery with Sloan.  Come and watch me.  Maybe I'll let you buy me breakfast afterwards, and you can suck up some more."

Burke laughed and kissed her again, and then Cristina started toward her locker to get ready for surgery.

"What's this?" she asked, noticing the letter.

"Oh, that's just... something that needed to be put right.  And I promise, I won't expect you to forgive me because of that either.  But you'll let me know when I am forgiven, right?"

Cristina pulled the piece of paper down and read it.  She looked from the page to him and back at the letter again.

"You... seriously?"

He shrugged.  "I just told the truth."

She walked over to him, pushing the tape against his sweater so the letter hung off of his front before she put her arms around him and leaned against his chest, and Burke wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"I may not be ready for the big stuff for a long time.  But I want it.  I really want it... and with you.  I just need some more time.  I need you to trust that I'll know when I'm ready."

"We are very difficult people," he said, sighing heavily.  "That's who we are.  I was foolish to think anything about us would be easy.  So I can wait.  I can wait and I can do the traveling in the winter and I can be patient."

She let him hold her another moment before she pulled back and turned away.

"Okay, enough of that.  Surgery in an hour."

"Okay," he said, moving toward the door.  "I'll be the guy in the gallery who can't take his eyes off you."

"And I'll be the surgeon ignoring you because she's too busy kicking ass in Sloan's big, important surgery."

Burke laughed and headed out of the door.  As he walked down the hallway, he pulled out his cell phone.  He had a flight he needed to reschedule and then he had a call to make to California to say thank you to a friend.