Author Notes: A huge thank you to all who gave me feedback about this story! I really appreciate it, and I'm glad that so many people found it worth their while to give me reviews and feedback. So thank you!
To those who didn't like the story: Thanks for your criticism and feedback! I appreciate it, I really do. I realize that this is a very flammable and questionable subject, but that is exactly why I want to try it. I hated this story line in Grey's Anatomy, I really did, but I like to play with the possibility of what if. I want to see what it could have been, how it would've unfolded if something had gone differently.

Another thing is that I want to be able to let my imagination fly free. Writing is the one thing where nothing and nobody gets to shackle me. I do not want to be bound to only write stories about CO where everything is fluffy and things work like a charm. I like reading stories like that, but I also want to write stories where things fall apart and have to be reconstructed. There is no rule here that forbids doing what Shonda does and place CO on a difficult journey. "Unleash your imagination" is written on the top of the page, and as long as I'm not breaking written rules, I choose to wield that right to write.

Third thing is that though I respect your advice to let this be and not poke the beehive, it is not my custom to not tell a story if there's even one person out there who wants to hear it. So unless that last reader says "stop", I do not stop telling this story until The End.

For those who liked the story: Thank you for your encouraging feedback. Thanks to your reviews, here is the update. I'm sorry I haven't been around for a while, but I've been too busy with my exams to even think about writing. From now on I try to update as frequently as possible, but since I'm a Sixth former, I cannot promise anything. But as long as you guys are interested, I am going to continue this story.

Like always, review and share your thoughts! :)

Cristina was lying on her mattress, eyes closed. Her body was completely relaxed, there was absolutely no sign of the stress that had pestered her for the past few weeks. She was lying on her mattress in her room, not in some dreary room in Minnesota. She was with the people that she loved, and did the job that she loved. But most importantly, she was with the man that she loved. Finally, everything was the way it was supposed to be: what she smelled was Owen's scent, what she felt was the warmth that Owen's embrace had left her with, and what she heard was the sound of Owen pouring himself a glass of water downstairs. This was how she wanted things. This was how she wanted things to stay. She was perfect. He was perfect. They were perfect.

Beep beep!

Cristina opened her eyes and sat up. On her left, on the small nightstand, Owen's pager was beeping. "Owen?" she called him through the ajar bedroom door. "Honey?"

She heard his distant voice answering: "What?"

"It's your pager!"

"What does it say?"

Cristina grabbed the pager and read the message. "It's from Kepner. It says ERA p NYH." She had no idea what the message meant, but clearly it was something important since she immediately heard the sound of Owen running up the stairs. Soon the bedroom door flung open and Owen rushed in. Cristina gave him the pager and he quickly checked the message, his expression darkening.

"What is it?" Cristina asked. "What does that mean?"

"It's a trauma abbreviation that Kepner and I use", Owen said as he searched for his pants and shirt. "It means 'ER Armageddon, patient. Need you here'. We've agreed to only use that message when something truly disastrous happens. Now where the hell are my clothes?"

Cristina got up, picked his jeans from the floor and gave them to him. "Here. Your socks are there, next to the laundry basket, and your shirt is downstairs. You have to go to the hospital?"

"Yes. Something big has happened, I must be there."

Cristina nodded. "Then I'm coming with you."

"No, no", Owen said. "This is your night off. We can't let the trauma trash the night for the both of us. You should stay here and get some sleep."

Cristina bridled. "Okay. But if I have to spend the night sleeping, I'd say it's pretty much trashed already."

Owen chuckled. "Then eat. Or bathe. Or read a book. I'll try to get off as soon as possible, okay?"

"Okay", Cristina consented. Owen gave her a quick kiss and then ran downstairs to look for his shirt. She crossed her arms and sighed. Although she loved her job and was proud of Owen for being a trauma god, sometimes she just hated the job for having such a lousy timing.

Owen drove to the hospital as quickly as he could and hurried to the ER. There were a lot of patients, but nothing seemed so overwhelming that Kepner would've had to page him with an emergency message. He spotted Dr. Brooks taking care of the schedule board and walked to her. "Dr. Brooks."

The intern turned around, surprised. "Chief Hunt! I thought you had the night off?"

"Yea, I received an emergency page from Dr. Kepner. Can you tell me where she is?"

"Uh, no. But umm... let me see." She turned around and examined the board. "Looks like doctors Kepner, Robbins, Torres and Fields are currently in OR 2."

"Thank you." Owen was about to leave, but suddenly stopped. "Wait. Did you say Fields? As in Lucy Fields? The obstetrician that returned from Africa last month?"

"Yes."

"So there's a baby involved?"

"I don't know, probably."

"Alright." Owen hurried forward. He didn't like the sound of the situation. Trauma surgery and a baby were never a good combination. He didn't like operating on children. He loved kids, and emergency surgeries on children went wrong way too often. He almost hated having a child on his operating table. He still remembered clearly how narrowly they had managed to save the life of little Sofia, his goddaughter. He never wanted to go through that again.

At the hallway leading to the OR, Owen bumped into Dr. Robbins, who was just exiting the OR. She looked at him with round eyes. "Owen!"

"Hey, Arizona. What's going on? Kepner emergency paged me and –"

"It's a car accident", Dr. Robbins said. "But technically you're not allowed to help, so –"

"What? What do you mean I can't help?"

"Look, Owen. You weren't paged here to help. You can't do anything –"

"What are you talking about? I'm the Chief of Surgery and the Head of Trauma surgery, of course I can –"

"Owen listen to me!" Dr. Robbins snapped, and then continued in a slow, low tone: "You can't help because the hospital policy forbids family members from entering the OR."

"I... What?" Owen stared at Arizona in shock, his eyes widening. "Family members? What do you...? Is my mom there?"

"No, not your mother. It's..." But before Arizona could finish her sentence, her pager went off. She checked it and her mouth dropped. "I have to go back."

"Arizona, wait!"

"Owen, I need to go."

"I'm coming with you."

"No!" Arizona spun around and pointed her finger at Owen while staring at him with her best Angry-mother-stare. "You can't. So unless you want me to page Dr. Webber here to keep you outside, you stay where you are." She turned around and disappeared through the doors.

Owen was thunderstruck. He had no idea what was going on. He sat to the floor, his back leaning against the wall, and tried to make some sense to the situation. He was paged to the ER with a major 911 page, but then banned from helping or even entering the OR, because according to Arizona, he was a family member. Owen was completely lost. His mother and Cristina were the only family he had in Seattle, and both were safe. His father had passed away a long time ago, and his aunts, uncles and cousins with their families were unlikely to be visiting Seattle, at least not without him knowing it. No, there had to be some misunderstanding, because there was no way that the patient, whoever he or she was, could be a member of his family.

Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. Finally, after twenty minutes had elapsed, the doors opened and Dr. Torres emerged from the OR. Owen stood up and noticed the strange, plaintive look on her face. "Callie?" he asked.

Callie looked at him oddly, as if she didn't know what to say (quite strange, since talking had never been difficult for her, if not on stage), then gulped and said: "Miss MacAllister crashed soon after we had paged you, so we had to take her to the OR. During surgery, we were able to repair much of the internal injuries and stop the hemorrhage, but as we moved on to asses the damage done to her ribs, spine and pelvis, her abdominal aorta ruptured. We tried the best we could to contain the bleeding, but were unable to stop it, and we were unable to save her. So doctor Fields insisted on moving our focus on trying to save the baby, and so we performed a C-section. Doctors Fields and Robbins were able to get the baby out, but turns out that the she was born with a VSD. Dr. Fields is currently assessing her condition. I'm sorry."

Owen just stared at her. He had no idea what was going on. Based on what she had just told him, some pregnant woman named MacAllister had just died, and her baby might be in serious danger. But Owen didn't know anyone named MacAllister. She certainly wasn't a family member, and the only MacAllister Owen could remember was a soldier, Geoff MacAllister, who had died in Iraq years ago.

"Owen?" Apparently, he had sunk into his thoughts for too long, because Callie placed her hand on his shoulder and looked at him with pity in her eyes. "I know this

is a terrible situation, but –"

"No", Owen replied and moved Callie's hand aside. "No, it's not. There has been some misunderstanding. I don't know anyone named MacAllister. I don't know who she is. She's not my family."

"No, she's not, but the –" Callie suddenly paused and looked at Owen, her eyes widening. "Wait. What?"

"I have no idea who this woman is. I don't know any MacAllisters."

"Are you serious? Sharon MacAllister."

Owen shook his head. "I'm telling you, the name doesn't ring any bells."

Callie was silent for a moment, and looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh my God. You really don't know."

"Know what?" Owen was getting impatient. "Callie, what the hell is going on?"

Callie looked at him, her eyes full of concern. "Come with me", she said with a heavy voice.

Owen followed her to the OR. Doctors Robbins and Fields were busy working over a small operating table, examining a tiny human being. The baby was quiet and still, which was never a good sign. On the other side of the room, Dr Kepner was standing over a covered body. The mother, Owen realized.

As the door clanged shut behind Owen and Callie, Robbins noticed them. "Hunt!" she exclaimed, then looked at her wife. "What are you doing?" At this point, Dr. Fields had also noticed the comers, and she frowned her sharp brows and gave Callie and angry stare. "He's not allowed in here, get him out!"

"He doesn't know", Callie said and quickly walked to Kepner. "Remove the cover."

"What? A-are you sure?" replied Kepner, who was nervously glancing at Owen.

"Yes. Do it."

Kepner did what she was told and quickly moved aside the cover, revealing the face of the deceased. Owen, who was totally clueless, stepped closer to see. The woman was around thirty, she had a narrow face and she had probably once been very attractive, but now her face was ghastly pale and covered in bruises.

"I don't...", Owen started, but then fell silent after noticing the woman's hair. It was blond and curly, like a blond version of Cristina's hair. And as soon as that thought had formed in his mind, the memory hit him. He gasped, his eyes widened in shock and he took a step back from the body. "Oh my God..."

"Dr. Kepner paged you here on her request", Callie explained. "She insisted on you being here."

"But... I..." Owen couldn't get a word out of his mouth. The fact that he was staring at the body of that woman, that horrible, horrible mistake that had almost destroyed his relationship with Cristina had struck him like a bolt from the blue. It had taken so long for him to win her back, they had had to go through so much before things had returned to normal, and now that woman was back. Why? Owen couldn't understand it, and now he was as if poleaxed. Finally, he managed to get some words out of his mouth: "What does this have to do with me? What did... what did she want from me?"

"Owen", Callie said, "she wanted you here because of her." She pointed at the small operating table, where Robbins and Fields were still taking care of the newborn.

"What? I don't..."

"I know what happened, Owen", Callie said. "Teddy told me before she left. She didn't want to spread your stuff around, but she told me, because she wanted me to look after you for her. She told me what she had heard from you. That was almost nine months ago, Owen."

Owen stared at Callie, then at the small operating table. "Are you...? What are you..."

"The baby was born with blue eyes, Owen. Her hair is dark, and though babies' hair tends to lighten over time, I'd say hers will be curly and red. We haven't done any tests yet, but according to miss MacAllister, there is no other option."

"I –"

"She was sure ", Callie interrupted, "that the baby is yours."

Owen stared at Callie in pure shock, then looked at the operating table. At that moment, a monitor went off, and the sound of the alarm was mixed with the loud exclamation of Dr. Fields: "Oh crap!" Everyone in the room turned to see how doctors Robbins and Fields started to hastily work on the baby, and over the commotion, Dr. Fields shouted: "Torres, get him out! Get him out of here! Now!"