Owen

This is his third drink.

And he's thinking about timing. And timeliness. And the essence of time. The way it works out when you're lost and frustrated and angry and the lowest you've ever been, and suddenly there's her light to guide you back to where you want to be. The way you fall in love, with the right person, at the right time. The way you can't imagine that you'll ever fall out of it, even if you want to, even if you tried, even if time gave you its godly blessing. It's sentimental, and he almost laughs to himself, because time can be an amazing thing.

This is his third drink.

And he's thinking about the way humans are always yearning for time, because while it is nourishing and fulfilling and generous, time is cruel and monotonous, and it waits for no one. You cannot grasp more time to sober up. You cannot buy the time you need when your patient is dying, faster than a waterfall slope, in front of your eyes. We miss our chances, day in and day out, and we blame time for letting gold slide through our fingers and missing the moment and letting go for somebody else's hand. We mask it, and we forfeit this thing called regret, and we tell time to take it, because we don't want it, even though it's there.

This is his third drink.

And he's thinking about Cristina. About her hair and the way it cascades down her back, over her shoulder. About the way she smiles, and even though it's not often, it can light up a room. About making love, and loving her, and its reciprocation.

Owen downs the rest of his scotch, and nods thank you to the bartender. His tour is done, an opportunity has come to an end. Gloved hands inside soldiers' bodies. The thrill of military trauma surgery. Distractions. It's odd to him that even when he was running away, coming back home has only made him realize how you never quite feel like you want to stop.

"Hunt!"

Owen shakes off his thoughts and turns around to see April striding toward him. "Dr. Kepner," he greets, although it comes out more of a slur. He is unaware of how much the alcohol hit him, so soon. "It's good to see you."

"You as well," April says, and Owen senses her hesitancy, at his inebriation for sure, but also his ruggedness and uneasiness. "Webber told me you would be coming back this week, but I had no idea you'd make it to the wedding."

"I wouldn't miss it."

"How was it?" she asks, and she bites her lip. "I mean, was it what you expected?"

Owen nods. "It was great. There's a high you get when you're out there. Saving lives has a whole new meaning, you know? You should head out there next time, give it a chance."

"I would," April responds, smiling. "But with the baby just being born and—"

"Oh, God," Owen says, putting his hand on his head. "I didn't even ask. Congratulations, Kepner. I am so happy for you and Avery. Truly."

"Thank you. You'll get to meet her back at the hospital tomorrow."

Before Owen can respond, a tinkering of glass brings their attention to the front of the room. Stephanie stands behind a microphone, a frilly pink dress slipped on, grinning wide as she clanks a spoon against her champagne glass.

"Thank you all for coming," she says into the microphone, as the noise level dies down. She clears her throat. "We will be starting the ceremony shortly, so please take your seats."

"I guess that's our cue," April says. "I'll catch you later, Dr. Hunt."

Owen smiles, nodding as April turns to find her seat.

Scanning the room, he spots his table number at the left side of the room, along the aisle. As he walks closer, he notices Derek laughing, and Bailey and Ben across from him. When they spot Owen, they all stand to shake hands and welcome him home. And for a moment, with familiar faces around him, a calmness starts to settle inside him. He doesn't know if it's partially the alcohol, but he starts to relax as he engages in conversations with people he missed. It feels like it's been centuries.

"I have to say," Derek says, holding up his glass to Owen, "I'm surprised you came."

Owen laughs. "I've been getting that a lot tonight. You are aware that I flew back to Seattle three nights ago, and I've officially recuperated, right?"

"Oh, it's not that," Derek insists, and Owen notices he is looking around. "I wouldn't even blink twice if I saw you back at work a few hours after you arrived. I just mean that—"

"All right, everyone!" Stephanie's voice resurfaces in the front of the room, causing both men to turn their heads. "If you know Jo and Alex," she begins, clasping the microphone between her hands, "then you'll know that nothing about them is normal."

Chuckles fill the room, as Owen turns to say something, only to find that Derek is actively avoiding his gaze.

"And that includes their wedding ceremony," Stephanie continues. "Now, before we bring out the bride and groom, please put your hands together and welcome their wedding party."

Owen smiles, clapping as he watches as bridesmaids Leah, Callie, and Maggie, cloaked in the same pink as Stephanie, walk down the aisle. As Callie passes Owen, she gives him a high five. Meredith follows closely behind, and she beams at both Owen and Derek as she walks past their table. And then, when Owen turns back around to see the rest of Alex's groomsmen, he almost stumbles out of his chair. He blinks once. Twice. He can't believe his eyes.

All of a sudden, as he keeps his gaze steady on her face and the way she glides down the aisle, it doesn't seem as long as he thought. In fact, it feels like yesterday that he was in the OR, watching as she waved goodbye to him in the gallery. It feels just a moment ago, that he's touched her, held her. He isn't sure that she notices him, because she keeps her eyes straight to the front, but he wants to reach out and grab her hand, spin her around, just to make sure his eyes and his mind aren't deceiving him.

But he doesn't. His feet stay rooted, hands still, as he watches her walk away from him, not for the first time.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Stephanie says, as the wedding party stands behind her. Owen notices that Cristina keeps her hands intertwined, head down. He knows that she knows that he is here. "As maid of honor, and online-certified minister, I ask that you please rise for the bride and groom: Jo and Alex!"

Owen stands, as Alex and Jo appear in the front, hands intertwined. As they exchange vows, and the room becomes chaotic, Cristina finally looks up. When her gaze meets his, he finds himself smiling. Somehow, however unexpected, this moment of meeting seems like all he could ask for.

And in the cheers of the crowds, Owen keeps his eyes locked on Cristina's, convincing himself that no matter what happens in the next few hours, he would never break it.