A/N: Just a little something that I've been toiling with for a while. Decided, fuck it, I'll write it anyway. So here you are. Sort of what I thought about the night of and what might have happened afterwards. Especially the actual feelings towards what happened. A bit dark but...whatever. We all know what happens afterwards. ALSO I don't own the characters, ABC and Shonda Rhimes do. Set after Owen leaves in "Elevator Love Letter".

Out of my Mind

Owen stepped out into the brisk winter night, snow slowly falling from the clouded Seattle sky. His hands shook as he put them in the pockets of his jeans. Owen shivered as a breeze hit him with snow. He pulled a toque out of one of his jacket pockets and shoved it on his head, pulling it over his red ears. It seemed silly to be concerned with the cold in this moment but he needed to forget, if only for a moment.

He'd strangled Cristina Yang. His girlfriend. His fucking lover.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Oh god oh god oh god.

The whole world was caving in.

Owen tried feebly to wipe away the tears, each beginning to turn to ice as they descended down his face. He couldn't believe that he was capable of such things. Owen would never harm her. Ever. Yet, here he was, trudging home after nearly killing Cristina. It had all happened so fast. He had fallen asleep. Callie woke him up. Him seeing his hands around Cristina's neck. Her running into the bathroom. Meredith showing up. Him hugging Cristina after the incident. And Meredith's very curt "leave."

It had all been so terrifying.

Apparently it had only lasted seconds but it felt like hours. Owen felt like he had killed her.

And what was that? "I'm so sorry"? Like that's supposed to make it all better?

He hated himself.

And that damn fan.

DAMN THE FAN!

"Damn it!" He said out loud as he neared his downtown apartment. Owen ascended the 2 flights of stairs and headed down the hall. He reached his apartment and unlocked the door, closed it and promptly locked it. Owen tossed his keys into the bowl next to the door and shrugged his jacket off. He sat down on his couch and stared at his reflection in his television. Owen glanced down at the clock.

213AM.

The red time mocking him endlessly. Owen knew full well that he wasn't sleeping tonight.

He also realized Cristina wouldn't be either.

God...

Owen paced around his apartment. He stared at everything in it. Furniture. Photographs. Paintings. His silver star. Diplomas. Awards.

Fuck it all.

His brain was on overdrive, thoughts travelling endlessly through.

Tears still dribbled down his face. A strange noise filled the once silent apartment. Owen frowned as he tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. It wasn't until he glanced at his reflection in his bathroom mirror did he realize the noise was coming from him. Sobs escaped his mouth and wracked his body.

How could he face her again? How could he go to work tomorrow and face the fucking world? Owen felt like crawling under a rock and dying. Sure the expression was somewhat corny but damn if it wasn't tempting. He felt like it wouldn't be so bad. He'd rather die alone in darkness than hurt her again.

Owen needed some release.

No one would miss him...Who would miss someone like him? He was too damaged.

Owen's frown deepened. He certainly didn't want someone to find him afterwards. It would be way too traumatic. Maybe if he just left.

Darkness consumed his thoughts.

He was fucking drowning.

...Why didn't he die in IRAQ?

Owen shook his head and came up for air.

It was 230 and he'd spent 17 minutes thinking about suicide. Owen shuddered. He didn't want to die. He felt like it might be a release but he started to think about how all he wanted to do was grow old with her. He wanted 40 years from now...

He had to get her back. He needed her. He couldn't breath without her. Owen noted to tell her that when he had a chance.

He had to figure this out and he needed to get her back. This meant he needed to go to work that morning.

This was going to be difficult...but fucking worth it.

End.

Afterthought: I don't know if it actually gets cold enough for tears to freeze in Seattle but here it does. *Gets cold just thinking about it* BBRRR...