When Christina was two, her dad died. She doesn’t miss him because she doesn’t remember him. She doesn’t have one memory, one blurred dream, nothing. All she has is a picture she found in her mom’s drawer when she was younger and even then, she can’t recall where she put it.
It’s not like she cherishes it or carries it around in her wallet, or keeps it under a towel in a drawer, nothing that dramatic. It was probably shoved in box or a book, hidden somewhere and forgotten until she moved again and even though she can remember thinking of putting it someplace she’d remember to find it, she can’t seem to remember where that place ended up being. Not that she’s really trying to remember, the thought just crosses her mind one day when she sees a little Spanish girl- who couldn’t have been more than four or five- crying because she wants her daddy, who Christina knew had just died in the OR after a car accident. It makes her think of her own biological father and the picture and she briefly tries to remember the hiding place, but right then George comes flying down the hall with his hands over his eyes, freaking about something or other he saw Alex and Izzy do, and she forgets about it again until she gets home.
She’s been in her apartment six months, but there are still boxes everywhere because she hasn’t bothered to unpack. It’s not like she lives there, she spends more time sleeping in the on call room then in her own bed- which doesn’t even have sheets at the moment. If she would actually unpack everything in her apartment, she actually might find it rather easily, but it’s not that important to her.
Sure, he might technically have been her father, but in her mind he’s just a stranger she never knew, whose picture she only keeps around because it’s one of the rules. It’s something she’s suppose to do, not needs or wants to do. She’s suppose to think of him and miss him, regret never getting to know him, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t love him and she doesn’t need him.
Christina Yang never needed anyone. She learned never to depend or rely on anyone at a young age. Maybe it had something to do with her father’s death, or her mother remarrying so soon after, but neither really meant anything in her mind. She was who she was and nothing would ever change that, she didn’t need some shrink or someone who thought emotional baggage should be unpacked and neatly stowed away to tell her why she is the way she is. She just is. The why doesn’t matter to her.
Just like the fact the fact that Burke broke up with her the night she finally decided she was going to tell him. It doesn’t bother her, she doesn’t need anyone.
Well, she thought she may have needed Meredith, if only to drive her to the clinic, but even that turned out to be unneccessary.The whole thing was over, it had been ripped out of her control.
She tried to act like that didn’t bother her either, losing her baby. She told herself it didn’t matter because she was going to have an abortion anyway, but it did. If she was truthful with herself- which she never was- she would admit that she had been thinking of not going through with the procedure. She hadn’t thought it out, she hadn’t even admitted to herself she was thinking it, but the thought had been there. When she thought about it, she forced herself to think about the patient in front of her, or made herself focus on Meredith’s rant about Dr. McDreamy, told herself to watch where she was going, she almost hit that patient. Christina prided herself on her control of situations, but lately she hadn’t been able to control anything and that bothered her more than she liked to admit.
So she didn’t, admit it.
She just blamed him.
Blamed him for that damn cup of coffee that ended up with her risking the career she had spent her entire life building.
She blamed him for trying to get close when she didn’t want anyone close to her, because it was when they got close that they always ran away. And she hated him because the look on his face when she brushed away his fears that night made her get a feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she owed him something, and if there’s anything she hates, its feeling guilty.
She blames him for trying to ask her out and hates him even more than she already does because he actually made her reconsider.
She blames him for proving her right. She hates him and despises him and blames him for proving that reaching out and letting someone get close means getting your heart broken.
Most of all though, she blames him for being in control.
He’s not like her, he puts on a tough exterior but underneath, he wants the dream. He wants a true love and a family, he wants the same things she wants when it comes down to it. Except she buries those hopes and wishes deep down to the core as far away from everything and everyone as they can get, but they still get crushed and stepped on. He hides mirror dreams right below the surface, barely hidden, and gets away with it. Nobody breaks his heart. Nobody crushes or steps on his dreams, no one upsets his balance of control that he doesn’t even really want or need like she does.
Christina Yang prides herself on being in control, and ever since he showed up, she hasn’t been.