Cristina entered the on-call room an hour later to find Owen with his back to her, already waiting.
"Hey." She said, her voice full of anticipation for what (she hoped) was to come. She wanted him. Badly. On the bed, on the floor, it didn't matter as long as her lips could meet his.
Owen turned to face her with a grim look in his face. His blue eyes were shielded, uninviting, and as cold as ice.
"Are you alright?" Cristina was worried. She moved toward Owen, one arm extended, but he backed away from her embrace. She stopped, confused at this strange behaviour. "What's going on?"
"This can't happen Cristina." Owen's face was expressionless as he continued. "This relationship- us - it's not appropriate. We work together and if we keeping seeing each other personally, we will never be able to stay professional." Cristina was frozen in place, devastated by what Owen was saying. "This…it was a mistake. I never should have-"
"Never should have what? Never should have talked to me? Kissed me? Never should have called me beautiful?" Cristina's voice cracked, but she powered through. "Never should have taken me up to your stupid vent? Pick one of those because all that was you. So which was your mistake?" Her voice was filled with venom, ready to kill. She was surprised at how quickly she could shut herself off and put up the boundaries.
"Cristina, I-"
"It's Dr. Yang." Cristina stormed out of the on-call room, fuming and close to tears. A mistake? She was a mistake? She looked for a refuge to hide in before she lost control and become widely known as the hospital cry-baby. The on-call rooms were out- some one could walk in at any time. A patient's room? No, it would take her too long to find a vacant one. When nothing came to her, Cristina entered a stairwell and began climbing, trying to clear her head with exercise. She couldn't handle this. It was Burke all over again. He had started it. Wooed her, pursued her, given her comfort, stability, passion, a chance at happiness, until when she finally came around he'd slipped it all from underneath her, leaving her broken. It had happened again. She couldn't believe that same thing had happened again. She had thought Owen was the anti-Burke- impulsive, messy, romantic, but it turned out that they had one detrimental thing in common- they were professionals.
A warm blast of air forced Cristina back to reality and she realized where her feet had led her. She laughed bitterly as she looked around the familiar ventilation room with disgust. IT was only a few days ago that she had been up here last with Owen – with Dr. Hunt. She had thought it was so cozy then, romantic, a haven from the world. He had made her laugh here, really laugh. He had helped her clear her head.
Cristina crammed herself in between a heater and the wall before she had begun to cry. She was squeezed so tight and was so deep in the shadows that, for a moment, she could pretend she was in some one's arms, instead of stuck between metal and concrete. She was alone. Burke had left her, at her wedding for crying out loud. Meredith wouldn't be speaking to her because of their fight. And now Owen was gone too. She was a mistake to him, a blot, an accident that could be easily erased with one conversation. Tears coursed down her cheeks. He didn't want to be professional; he just wanted an easy way out of a faulty relationship with a "mistake". She let out a low sob before catching her breath suddenly. Some one came into the room after her. The door clicked shut and Cristina heard footsteps pacing back and forth. Had some one seen her come in here? She couldn't remember seeing any one on her way in, she was so lost in her thoughts. What if they told the chief? She doubted that the ventilation room would be considered an acceptable workspace for surgeons. As if she wasn't in enough trouble with Chief Webber already without trespassing fines.
When she was sure she couldn't be seen, Cristina peeked carefully out from the side of the heater to see who was there. Her stomach plummeted when she saw Owen's –Dr. Hunt's- tense body, standing there, frozen. His back was to her, his hands propped again the wall to support himself. He stood in silence for a moment before slamming his fist harshly into the wall. The sudden noise make Cristina jump, she had never seen him violent like this.
"Ow." He massaged his hand. "Shit." He mumbled. His breath grew shaky and uneven. "SHIT!" He screamed as loud as his lungs would allow and turned so Cristina would see his suffering face. He kicked the wall this time, one foot after the other. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." He sobbed and sank down to the floor.
His desperate tears were more pain than Cristina could bear. Each one that escaped his tortured eyes was like a dagger piercing her heart. "Shit. Shit. Shit." She wanted to go out and comfort him, hold him as close as she could, make his tears stop forever. She made a move to rise to her feet but just as fast as his tears had begun, they ceased and Owen was on his feet and gone.
Cristina slid out of her hiding space shocked and confused. He must want her if he was in this much agony and yet he had ended it. He had seemed so unaffected by her in the on-call room but he was in indescribable pain. She was so perplexed by what was happening, but the thing that surprised her -and scared her - that most was how his tears –Owen's tears – had hurt her more than her own ever would.