You Have Me

Category: Angst/Missing scene

Pairing: Owen/Amelia (Omelia)

Summary: Missing Scene from Ep 11x13, Staring at the End. Owen is concerned Amelia is pushing herself too hard.

Warnings: Contains spoilers!

Disclaimer: Own Nadda

Authors Notes: Okay, so I'm totally jumping on board the Owen & Amelia ship! :) This is set somewhere towards the end of the episode, about a week before Herman gets scrubbed in.

She's tired.

No, scratch that... exhausted.

She surpassed the point of being just tired days, if not weeks ago but she can't stop. Not yet. The pressure to perform, to be more than just the 'other' Shepherd is weighing down heavily on her shoulders and she can't shake the feeling of dread that keeps swelling in her chest. What if she makes a mistake? What if this cements the one thing she's truly afraid of; being the wrong Shepherd? Even if she does everything right the chances of succeeding are minimal and she wonders if starting down this road was just her subconscious looking for a new way to self-destruct.

God knows she's good enough at doing that.

She tries to shake the negative thought as she stares up at the brightly colored scans painting the darkened monitors. She chose to do this because she can do it. In the safety of this room it's just her, Herman and the tumor. It's complicated but at the same time simplistically easy. She knows what she has to do, it's just a matter of practicing technique, anticipating complications and pulling it off.

Chatter from outside drifts under the door, the conversations of late night staff infiltrating her peace and she pushes her hands up to cover her ears. It's closing in on ten but that's not nearly late enough. It needs to be quieter. She needs to have silence so she can focus, forget about the unspoken questions and rumors flying around the halls.

Do you have help?

Callie's words ring sharply in the back of her mind.

Is Derek... Doctor Shepherd coming? Given everything, 'should' you be doing this yourself?

She breathes out slowly trying to forget the worried looks and concerned faces in the lecture hall, the unspoken questions that went unanswered.

Is she really good enough?

What makes her so special?

Didn't she used to be a drug addict?

Her hands fly down colliding with a stack of files and she jumps taking a step back as they scatter on the floor. The sharp movement sends spots dancing across her vision and she tries to remember the last time she ate something that wasn't coffee. It's a rookie mistake and she knows it. At some point before the surgery she'll need to force down a proper meal and actually rest but they've still got at least a week before Herman will even consider going under.

Besides that, if she stops right now she's only giving her doubts the opportunity to get a foothold. So long as she keeps going over the procedures, keeps analyzing all the possible outcomes and keeps prepping there's no place for her fears to settle.

Given everything, 'should' you be doing this yourself?

She breathes in sharply feeling a hot dryness build at the back of her throat and she pushes the next breath out faster trying to focus on the red and yellow squiggly lines blurring in front of her. For a second the decent into dizziness almost feels like a high and she panics at the all too familiar sensation. She doesn't want to be that person any more. It would be so easy to run away, get out before it all goes horribly wrong but she's stronger than that, or at least she wants to be.

A knock at the door instills immediate fear and she turns so fast she needs to grip the desk for support as Owen pops his head in. Her breathing is still uneven, hitching dryly in her throat and she doesn't know whether to be relieved or ashamed. On one hand she trusts him more than anyone else in the hospital but at the same time he's the chief of surgery. If she gives him any reason to think she's not completely capable he'll pull the plug and the last few months will have been for nothing.

"Amelia?" His tone is thick with concern as his steps into the room.

Even in the darkness he can see the clear sheen of sweat dampening her brow and for a moment he assumes the worst until he gets close enough to read her stance properly. Her shoulders are tense, her fists are curled so tight her knuckles are white and her gaze is unfocused but the reaction isn't from any form of substance abuse. Well... maybe too much caffeine has played its part but he knows the signs of stress and chronic fatigue when he sees them.

"Tell me you've taken a break since I was last in here?" His fingers press lightly into her elbow, a way of supporting her but also urging her to tell him the truth. The last time he checked in was hours ago, well before lunch and her confused frown along with the growing silence knots uncomfortably in his stomach. "Amelia?"

"I'm fine-" she steals another breath, trying to shake the residual dizziness to answer him but it doesn't help. If anything it just makes the situation worse and her knees buckle without warning sending the room into free-fall. He catches her against his chest as if he was expecting the faint and she clutches onto his shirt waiting for her equilibrium to settle. Eventually it does and she feels a hot flush of embarrassment almost wishing she had passed out because when his hand tilts her cheek upwards the concern in his gaze is nearly too much.

"You okay?" He breathes the question softly, watching her nod in response and without a word he guides her to the nearest chair. She sits, instinctively lowering her head to her knees and he rubs her back gently, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over him. He should have seen this coming but like everyone else he'd taken her calm and professional exterior at face value. He'd underestimated her strength, her ability to compact and push forward and he's not going to make that same mistake again. "Stay here, I'm going to get you some water."

He doesn't give her time to protest and quickly leaves the room trying to squash down the unexpected fear that's bouncing nervously in his stomach. He doesn't know how or when it happened but she's fast becoming one of his priorities and it has nothing to do with the hype her surgery is creating. He could give a damn about the media or the hospital's reputation. He wants to make sure she's okay because he cares about her and the fact he's becoming so enamored scares him.

He reaches the nearest water dispenser and quickly fills up a plastic cup, trying not to spill the contents as he starts back towards her lab.

He doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't know if he's even ready for another relationship but everything about her feels fresh, natural and he makes a mental note not to over-analyse it. First they need to sort out the state she's gotten herself into and then, when Herman's surgery is finished, hopefully they'll be able to have a proper conversation about it.

He enters her room and lets out a short, relieved sigh when he sees her. Although her face is still pale her eyes seem a little more focused and he hands her the water as he kneels down beside her chair. Without thinking he absently rests his hand over her knee letting her take a few sips from the cup before he starts asking questions. "When was the last time you slept, or ate something?"

"Does coffee count?" She tries to make light of the situation but his expression remains stoic and she tries to think of the answer for herself. She remembers Edward's offering her food a couple of times over the last few days but she declined each time wanting to remain on task so she didn't lose her concentration. "This is big Owen, I'm just trying to stay focused."

"No-" he shakes his head adamant about getting his point across, "you're pushing yourself too hard. You've got this. Everybody here knows that but if you keep forcing it, if you start second guessing every decision you make then it's going to unravel. You need to trust your instincts, take some time and step back."

The thought of switching off, letting her personal thoughts come and go as they please with no distractions sends a wave of unease crashing through her stomach. It's too soon. She needs to find a way to cement her confidence first. She needs everything to click into place and for that to happen she needs to work. If that means practicing with noddles and sugar granules for the next three days then so be it. "I see the point you're trying to make and I-"

"Good." He cuts her off before she can finish and takes the cup from her grasp placing it on the desk. He doesn't miss the slight tremble of her hand as it lands in her lap and the action makes him swallow roughly, even more determined that enough is enough. He knows she shares the hereditary Shepherd stubborn streak but he has the advantage of rank and he pushes himself up off the chair extending his arm, "come on?"

"Come on where?" She tenses not ready to give in but he ignores her hesitation and she doesn't have the energy to fight him as he pulls her up. She's still wobbly on her feet and she masks the fact by placing her hand briefly against his upper arm. "I promise I'll take a break, I just need a couple more hours to-"

"Nope, don't care." He interrupts her again, his concern overriding the urge to give in to her angry yet endearing pout. This isn't just because he cares about her, he's not even sure what that means yet but he wouldn't be doing his job if he didn't put the well-being of his staff as a foremost priory. "I'm asking you to come with me Amelia... but I don't have to, Chief remember?"

She tilts her head not sure whether to be annoyed by his insistence or touched by the fact he's this worried about her. They all know what the job is like, how taxing it can be but his genuine concern eases some of her anxiety and she reluctantly gives in with a nod.

"Great, let's go." He offers a smile and motions for her to leave first, catching the lights on their way out.

The hall is brighter than she remembers and she squints against the harsh white walls as the reality of being locked in her lab starts to sink in. She can feel the ache in her shoulders, the stiffness in her back and the dull throb in her head that was being masked by page after page of research notes. Even though they're still inside the air feels fresher and she stretches her arms up trying to work the kinks out as they stop in-front of the nearest vending machine. "Okay, I'm not saying you were right... but this does feel pretty good."

Her eyes are closed and looks away overcome by the sudden urge to help her out with an impromptu massage. It's more than tempting but he immediately remembers where they are and that it wouldn't exactly be appropriate -at least not the way he's imagining it- so he keeps the thought to himself as he digs out his wallet. A protein bar and a TWIX aren't exactly the most nutritional foods but he figures it's better than nothing and it gives him an excuse to make sure they get a proper breakfast tomorrow when the cafeteria is open.

He selects a packet of nuts for himself and bends down to collect the items from the tray, offering her the bars with a hesitant smile. It's the first time he's seen her properly in the light and the dark rings circling her eyes ram home the fact she's been working herself into the ground. He doesn't want to state the obvious but he's caught off guard and even though he tries to come up with something to say her fist catches his shoulder first.

"Stop staring at me like I'm about to break. I'm not... and that's rude. It's rude to stare." She not offended, not really but he wasn't exactly being subtle and when his cheeks fluster at the accusation she can't help getting some of her own back. "Don't tell me, you learnt that look form Derek? I bet you guys practice in the mirror... and this one is how to make Amy feel really crap about herself."

"No, that's not... I didn't mean-" he stops, blowing out a steady breath to try and find the right way to apologize. "Derek cares about you. We both, I care-" he hesitates realizing how the words are sounding, "not like a brother... you know, I don't... I worry. Sometimes I worry about you... because I care, so I hope... I mean is that, is that okay?"

A smile touches her lips as his ramble comes to an end and even though she's not entirely sure, she thinks she gets the gist of the meaning and lifts an eyebrow in response, "I think, yes..."

"Good." He's not exactly sure what's just transpired between them but she looks pleased with the outcome and he returns her smile deciding to cut his losses before anymore awkwardness can follow. "Come on-" he nods at the food in her hands, "you can eat that on the way?"

"Wow, you really go all out for a girl." She smirks, unwrapping the protein bar as he starts navigating them through the winding corridors. She's content with the silence, assuming they're taking the long way back to her lab and it's only after the fifth wrong turn that she realizes he has no intention of letting her go back to work. "Owen, I told you-"

"Chief... so humor me, okay?" He feels her tense as they near the on-call room and he gets a sense of what he's suspected all along. He knows exactly what it's like to be afraid of sleeping, to be terrified of the doubts and fears that hide in the darkness but he also knows she needs this and he squeezes her hand gently as he pushes the door open. It's empty which he's grateful for and he directs her to one of the beds offering a smile as she throws the devoured TWIX wrapper into the bin.

"Just a few hours, trust me you'll feel better for it." He wants to offer to stay but he's not sure if that's overstepping the mark. As much as he wants to comfort her he doesn't want to take advantage of the situation and when she remains silent he doesn't feel like he has any other choice but to leave.

"Owen, wait-" the words are out before she can stop them and her mind starts reeling, searching for a way to keep him from going. She's never been very good at coy or subtle. The only way she knows how to ask for something is by saying it outright but that's never easy with personal requests and she twists her hands awkwardly, averting her gaze to the floor.

"I can't stop..." she starts with the truth because it's him. Not her brother or Meredith, not her intern or another doctor... it's Owen and she trusts him. Whatever is developing between them she doesn't want to ruin it by lying to him. "I can't stop because there are things that I think when I stop and at the moment I can't... I don't want to think. When I'm working, when I'm busy it's fine but when I try to stop it's like this big suffocating ball and I know, I know I'm sounding like a crazy person right now... so you should probably just-"

"Whoa, hey..." he moves without hesitation, dropping onto the bed and covering her hand with his own. "I get it, believe me I do. You don't need to be embarrassed or scared, I told you we all have our things." He watches her gaze lock on their entwined fingers and when she finally looks back up he can see the sheen of tears that she's refusing to to let fall. He knows the point he's trying to make isn't getting through to her and he can't help flinching when she pulls her hand away.

"I'm sorry-" she forces a smile as she rubs her palm down over her knees. She knows that if he stays touching her she's going to cry and she can't, she won't. Even though she wants to be honest with him it's too soon. She likes him, really likes him and the last thing she wants to do is scare him away because she can't manage a little stress. "I'm just tired and overreacting. I'm fine, seriously."

He squashes down the feeling of hurt that bubbles up in his chest at the quick dismissal. The fake smile she's plastered on isn't fooling anyone but on some level he gets it. He understands because he's spent half his life shutting people out too but if there's one thing he's learnt, it's that the important ones make their way in regardless.

"You can talk to me, remember-" his voice softens as he brushes her cheek. It's the same line he used last week -when she clammed up before her lecture- but just because he's saying it again doesn't make it any less real or sincere, "you can talk... to me, okay?" He catches the recognition that flashes in her expression as she nods and he feels relief fill his chest.

This is how it it's supposed to work now. They can talk to each other and he offers her a reassuring smile as he urges her back on the bed.

She swallows roughly and lies down on the mattress resting her head against the lumpy pillow. When he lets go of her hand she feels a momentary wave of panic but she controls it breathing in slowly to try and calm herself as the room plunges into darkness. Her senses take a moment to adjust and she fights the urge to run, curling her fists so tightly she's sure her nails are about draw blood but a soft shuffle eases her anxiety and she's surprised when she feels the mattress dip behind her.

"You have people-" he winds his arm around her, resting his hand over her tightly clenched fist until he feels her relax. When she turns into him, he shifts to make sure they're both comfortable before pulling the blanket up to cover them.

"You have people... and you have me."