A/N: This is my first grey's fic so let me know what you think. The prologue is quite short but I promise the chapters will get longer after this. I had to lay the groundwork for the rest of the story in this chapter. Set after 5x19.

Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy or any of the characters in this fic that appear on the show *sigh*

Prologue

Cristina was sobbing quietly into a cushion when Callie arrived home from a double shift and for a second she thought that she must have been dreaming because Cristina Yang was crying, and Cristina Yang never cried. Cristina Yang made other people cry. But Callie wasn't dreaming and Cristina really was sitting hunched up on their sofa, her knees drawn into her chest as she emitted infrequent noises from behind the red cushion. For a moment, Callie simply stood by the door, stunned into freezing at the other worldly sight.

"What's up with you?" She asked after a moment.

It wasn't like she was best friends with Cristina or anything, but Yang was her roommate and colleague and after what Callie had seen the the morning before, she certainly had more than enough to be upset about. Cristina mumbled something into incomprehensible into the cushion. Callie gingerly approached the sofa; Cristina was a rather mean one under normal circumstances. Who knew what crying could make her do.

"Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?"

Silence.

"Oh....kay then," Callie said after a minute. Whatever Cristina was upset about - and she had a fair idea of what or rather who that might be about - was obviously not information she was willing to share. When she'd almost reached the door to her bedroom though, Cristina called out after her.

"I broke up with him. Last night. I broke up with Owen."

It was 7 o'clock in the morning and as he had been doing for most of the night, Owen was staring up at his bedroom ceiling. There was no fan, and for that he was grateful. He still shuddered at the thought of what he had done to Cristina not much more than 24 hours ago. His PTSD episode triggered by the fan in Cristina's bedroom had cost him their relationship and almost cost Cristina her life. He didn't want to, but for the hundredth time since the night before, Owen ran through everything that had happened between them that day - Him almost strangling her to death and her assurances that she was ok as she held him. Their meetings and almost meetings throughout their shifts - Callie and Meredith blocking him from seeing her, that moment in the boiler room when he'd tried to end it and she'd refused to let him. And finally, that bittersweet time in the on-call room that both filled him with uncontrollable joy and tore strips from his heart. Every fibre of his being longed to return to those magical moments when he and Cristina had finally consummated their love, but his ears still rang with the fateful words that had come after. His heart broke afresh, then and there as he remembered the words she'd spoken. How she'd admitted that she couldn't handle it after all. That she was sorry. It wasn't Cristina who should be sorry though, it was him. He was the one had caused all the trouble. He was the one who had made Cristina Yang, the strongest woman he had ever known afraid to fall asleep next to him. And this was the part that hurt the most.

He didn't blame her for breaking up with him. He sure as hell hadn't done anything recently that hadn't contributed to that decision. But for some reason, he couldn't quite bring himself to believe that it was really over between them. He'd never felt this way about anyone, not even Beth who he'd been engaged to in the before, and as he had done almost constantly through the night, Owen swore to himself that he would get better and win her love back. That was why he had accepted Derek Shepherd's offer of help and had an MRI. And that was why, as he lay staring up at the ceiling, Owen Hunt did not feel that agreeing to see a psychiatrist was a bad idea.

If only he knew.

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