In the Now
Cristina unlocked her office door and then entered, throwing her coat over a chair. She pulled her laptop out of her briefcase, and plugged it onto the docking station by her monitors.
"Knock, knock." Nathan Riggs stood in the doorway, already dressed in scrubs. "I've just heard from UNOS. Mrs Beatty is getting a new heart today!"
"Good." Cristina nodded briskly.
He raised his eyebrows. "Everything okay?"
"Fine." She started clicking on apps. "I'll start rearranging today's surgeries. Who do you want to scrub in with you?"
"I thought you'd want to take the lead, she's your patient ..." Nathan noticed her stiff posture and how she wasn't making eye contact. "Are you mad at me?"
"What?" Cristina turned around and sighed. "How's your face?"
"Tender." Nathan pointed to the bruise on his jaw. "Owen throws a mean punch."
"And he's gotten himself suspended for a week, which he deserves." She rubbed her forehead. "I'm not mad at you, Nathan. I'm frustrated at him. We got into a huge fight last night and I made him sleep in the guest room. He's still outraged that I hired you without doing a full reference check like I was
supposed to know that you were the Nathan who was dating Megan..."
"You hired me because you were recovering from an emergency C-section, and I never would have accepted if I had known Owen works here and would react so ... " He shrugged. "I wasn't trying to antagonize him. It was the first time that I'd seen Evelyn in years. And she was happy to see me."
She nodded. "Was Owen this uptight as a kid?"
Nathan chuckled. "It was his father. Malcolm set extremely high standards for everyone and Owen wanted to please him so very much. After he died ... Owen took on the burden of being the man of the family, before he was even ten years old."
Cristina looked down at the floor. "I think he's losing his mind. You wouldn't believe what he did this morning."
"Hey." Nathan's voice was soft. "It's grief. I know that his feelings mirror how much he misses Megan. I wish he'd find better ways of dealing with it, mind you."
Nathan's pager beeped and he looked at it. "The transplant team is on their way to Baylor in Dallas. We've got to tell our patient today is her lucky day."
"You start gathering the family ... and I'll join you in her room." Cristina waved him away. "I have a phone call to make."
In the Past
It was after midnight when Owen entered his apartment. He pulled off his jacket in the dim light. Out of habit, he hung it up.
Dazed, he ran his fingers through his hair. In the last 24 hours, he'd drifted off to sleep in Cristina's bed. He woke up to find his hands around her neck. She said she was okay but she wasn't. He was shattered. They went to work.
He swallowed, hard. They had made love. Tender and exquisite love. He had shown her that he could be gentle, that his hands could tenderly elicit the sweetest highs. His lips had praised every inch of her silky skin. Just a few hours ago his arms were around her and he was drifting off to sleep, the scent of her hair filling his nostrils as their bodies began to cool.
And then it all fell apart. Humbled and broken, he approached Derek and accepted his offer to help. They had put together a tentative plan and then he had an MRI. Going into the tube had drained the last bit of energy in him.
Owen reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card for a Dr. Wyatt. He was supposed to call her in the morning and book an appointment.
Wearily, he hung his head. This is what his life had come to. Standing in a dark and lonely apartment, clutching the business card of a therapist. His mother was surely asleep, ten miles away, not knowing he was so close. Everyone who knew him in the before was gone. His father's life ended too soon. His sister disappeared on a helicopter ... something about that made his brain itch. Nathan was dead to him and his Army friends were still in the desert. His surviving friends.
Cristina ... was scared of his inner demons ... as she should be. Sighing, Owen went into his bedroom and placed the card on his nightstand. He plugged in his cell phone, then undressed and slid in between his sheets. He laid there, blinking, until exhaustion finally won and he fell asleep.
Moving Forward
Asleep in his apartment, Owen tossed and turned. Explosions were going off in his dreams. He kept running for safety while shards of metal and body parts flew through the air. There was nowhere that he could hide. There was no safe place. He crouched down, eyes shut tight, and waited for death.
Gradually the sounds subsided. Tentatively, he opened his eyes and sat up. He was in his apartment, in his bed, but the room was filled with grey fog. And his father was standing by the bed, dressed in ghostly scrubs.
"Hello, son." Malcolm extended a hand. "I want to show you something."
Speechless, Owen got out of bed and stood next to his father. He looked at the bed and he was still sleeping there. Dr. Wyatt's business card was still on the nightstand.
"This will make sense later." Malcolm turned away and started walking. They left the apartment and went downstairs into the cold night. The grey fog surrounded them.
"Where are we going?" Owen asked.
"We're exploring a few paths."
"Oh."
They walked on. Occasionally, the fog would thin and Owen could make out a familiar building or landmark.
"If I had the chance, I would do everything differently," Malcolm said. "You wouldn't have worked so hard to get my approval."
Surprised, Owen was silent.
They passed an alley and the fog thinned. Owen could see figures moving. They were running away from a body lying on the dirty cement.
Concerned, Owen walked closer. He saw a man, lying face down. A worn hat covered his head and his clothing was filthy.
Owen wrinkled his nose. The man smelled of stale beer. That didn't stop him from reaching down and grabbing the man's shoulder. He flipped him over, then jumped back with horror. The man on the ground was himself, older and grizzled. And dead. Blood was oozing out of his nose and one hand clutched an empty bottle.
He looked up at Malcolm. His father said, "Do you choose this path?"
"No!" Owen backed away from the dead him, and followed Malcolm back into the fog. They continued to walk through Seattle. It was like they were crossing miles in minutes.
"You set high standards," Owen said. "But I know it was because you wanted me to succeed to the best of my abilities."
"I could have done it in a different way."
They passed by Cristina's apartment building. There he was again, shouting up at her window as two police officers struggled to put him into the back of a squad car. His hands were restrained behind his back. Meredith was standing on the sidewalk, screaming something about a restraining order. Callie was weeping on the front steps and Arizona was trying to comfort her.
Malcolm turned to him. "Do you choose this path?"
Owen was appalled. "No."
"Then let's keep walking."So they did.
His ghostly father spoke again. "My father never learned to manage his temper, so I never learned that either, and so I wasn't able to teach you. All three of us served in wartime and all three of us suffered for it."
Owen's thoughts whirled. How he had longed for his father's guidance as he grew up. He couldn't remember his father being this open and honest while he was still alive.
Next was Seattle Grace. Owen saw himself leave through the front doors, wearing a suit and tie.
"Hey Chief!" Someone shouted. "Thank your wife for the banana bread!"
"Banana bread'?" Owen was incredulous. "Cristina bakes?"
Unexpectedly, his father chuckled. "She does not."
"So ... this is my future? I'm the Chief of Surgery? And I'm married to someone who isn't Cristina?"
His ghostly father gazed at him. "It could happen."
Owen shook his head and walked back into the fog.
Night turned to day and the fog lifted. They were walking in a residential area. Owen knew this neighborhood. Most of the houses had been built before World War II.
Malcolm spoke again. "It was my dream to buy a home here one day. That's why I worked so hard. I wanted to raise my family here."
"I know."
Malcolm slowed down and stopped at one particular house. Owen liked the looks of it. It had a welcoming atmosphere. It was two stories tall with attic windows, and what appeared to be a sizable backyard.
His truck pulled into the driveway. Stunned, Owen watched as he got out of the truck and sprinted to the passenger door. The other him pulled open the door and helped Cristina get out.
Owen stepped back in shock. She was visibly pregnant. He didn't breath as he watched himself escort her to the door. The other Owen – the happy one – opened the front door and then carried a laughing Cristina into the house.
Rain began to fall. A car pulled into the driveway. The other Owen jumped out and sprinted to the passenger door. He opened an umbrella and sheltered Cristina as she stepped out. Cristina opened the door behind hers. She carefully reached into the back seat. When she emerged, she was carrying a car seat.
Owen swallowed, tears in his eyes, as Cristina carried the car seat into the house, the other Owen behind her. He exhaled after the front door closed.
The rain turned into snow. The car pulled into the driveway again. Owen ran to Cristina again, and she reached in and brought out another car seat. Tears slid down his face as the other Owen escorted Cristina to the front door. The door shut behind them.
His father turned to him. "Enjoy yourself."
In a blink Malcolm was gone and everything went grey.