**Author's Note: I'll make this short and sweet. Thank you so much for all of the kind words with the last chapter. I had to deal with some writer's block on this chapter…and once I had it complete it took me three days to find the right song to name it after! I've hit an upswing writing wise so I hope to get another chapter out soon! Enjoy!


It's gotta get easier, oh easier somehow

Cause I'm falling, I'm falling

Oh easier and easier somehow

Oh I'm calling, I'm calling

And it isn't over unless it is over

I don't wanna wait for that

It's gotta get easier and easier somehow

But not today

Not today…
~Imagine Dragons~ Not Today


Cristina stifled a yawn as she stepped out of the OR. What was supposed to be a quick surgery had turned into one that had lasted over four hours. All she wanted was to find Owen, go home, collapse into bed, and order takeout.

" Karev…have you seen Owen?" she asked as she came upon Alex who was sitting at a nearby nurse's station, studying the iPad screen in front of him.

" Last I heard he was in the ER getting his ass kicked by a biker gang." Cristina let out a laugh as she turned to look Alex in the face.

" How stupid do you think I am Karev?"

" If you don't believe me, ask Avery."

" Ask Avery what?" Jackson asked as he approached the two.

" Alex seems to think that Owen got into some kind of fight with a biker gang in the ER."

" No…that really happened. Didn't you get my texts?"

" I've been in the OR for almost five hours," she replied as she pulled her phone out. 2 text messages from Owen, 5 from Jackson, and a missed call from Derek. Cristina felt the blood drain from her face.

" Is he okay?"

" Broken ribs, a nasty cut on his head, a concussion, and a linear skull fracture," Jackson explained.

" What room?" Cristina asked angrily.

" 317." Without another word, she took off running for the stairs.


A familiar sense of anxiety crept over Cristina as she approached Owen's hospital room. Memories of him laying in a coma in the ICU, attached to every sort of machine floated through her head as she paused outside his room. A quick peek through the glass revealed a sleeping Owen, a large bandage covering the cut on his forehead. Cristina found herself looking away as her anxiety turned to rage. It had only been a mere week since they had laid in her bed together, Owen promising her that he'd keep his savior complex in check. The sound of footsteps behind her caused Cristina to turn around.

" How is he?" Richard Webber asked as he glanced through the same window Cristina had been standing at moments earlier.

" I don't know. I just got out of surgery," she responded.

What the hell was he thinking?" Cristina muttered, sighing as she worriedly ran her fingers through her curls.

" For what it's worth, had Hunt not stepped in when he did, my patient would have died in the ER. His quick thinking gave me the chance to stabilize the man before rushing him to the OR."

" That's great and all…but it still doesn't excuse him from asserting his damn savior complex and getting his ass kicked in the process."

" Go easy on him Yang."

" Easier said than done sir," Cristina said as Webber walked away. She started to turn back towards Owen's room, pausing as her hand reached for the doorknob. Cristina quickly pulled her hand back as her heart sank in her chest. She couldn't do it. Not now. Maybe later.


" Dr. Hunt…wake up." Owen stirred groggily in his bed as Shane Ross's voice brought him out of a deep sleep.

" Ross…it's four a.m. Why do you sound so awake?" he muttered.

" Coffee sir," replied Ross as he flicked on the bedside lights.

" Are you trying to blind me?" Owen snapped.

" Sorry sir."

" Enough of the 'sir' crap. My neurological status is the same as it was three hours ago. Just let me go back to sleep."

" Dr. Avery said if I don't do the checks he won't let me see the inside of an OR for months."

" Well, I'm Avery's boss…"

" With all due respect sir, he said that you'd try and use that angle."

" I'll deal with Avery. Now turn off the damn lights and let me go back to sleep." Owen watched as the frazzled intern flipped off the lights and stumbled out of the room, not sure what to make of his sudden outburst. He grabbed for his phone that lay on his bedside table, hoping it contained a message from Cristina. Owen's heart fell in his chest as he glimpsed at the empty screen in front of him. He hadn't heard from her since the text he had received stating she was stuck in the OR. Surely she knew about the incident in the ER earlier. He knew how the hospital's rumor mill worked. With a sigh he dropped his phone back down and closed his eyes. He would text Cristina when he woke up.


" Is there a reason Shane Ross is refusing to step foot near your room?" challenged Derek a few short hours later.

" You look like hell," Owen stated, putting his phone down for what seemed like the hundredth time as a disheveled Derek walked into his room.

" Don't change the subject."

" I may or may not have thrown him out of my room earlier," responded Owen.

" You're a pain in the ass," Derek said with a yawn, sinking into the sofa near Owen's bed.

" Have you seen Cristina?"

" She's up with Meredith and Bailey right now actually."

" She's pissed isn't she?"

" Pissed is an understatement," Derek replied.

She refused to take you home until Meredith talked some sense into her." Owen remained silent as a knock sounded on the door. He found little time to collect his thoughts as Cristina entered.

" Cristina…" Owen's voice cracked as he uttered her name, hopeful for some kind of reaction. Without hesitation she turned her attention to Derek who had stood from his spot on the couch.

" Total bed rest for three days. When I say total bed rest, I mean total bed rest. I better not find out you're out of bed doing something stupid or Cristina will be the least of your problems."

" What about therapy and getting back to work?" Owen interjected.

" Provided you're not having any lingering symptoms from the skull fracture and concussion, you should be able to resume your PT sessions next week."

" And work?"

" We'll cross that bridge when we get there."


" Fair enough," Owen replied with a sigh. As much as he wanted to argue with Derek, he knew it wasn't going to get him anywhere right now. He scrawled his signature on the electronic discharge form and handed the iPad back to Derek. Cristina silently pushed a wheelchair to Owen's bedside, doing her best to avoid making eye contact. The ride to her car downstairs was both awkward and silent. She opened the passenger door to her car, allowing Owen to climb inside. He barely had time to be seated before she slammed the door shut with such force that Owen found his head pounding from the loud noise.

" Can we talk about this?" Owen asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

" What's there to talk about?" Cristina snapped, turning the radio up in attempts to drown out Owen's voice.

" It's not what you think," Owen argued. Instead of answering him, she turned the volume up even higher.

" Cristina. STOP!" Owen yelled, his voice bellowing over the music coming from the speakers. Cristina begrudgingly pulled the car over, parking on a side street just a few blocks from Meredith's house.


" This wasn't supposed to happen."

" You don't say," she snapped, still refusing to look at Owen.

" I'm serious. I woke up to the sound of sirens as I saw your text. I fully intended to come upstairs to watch your surgery. I was heading to the elevators when a frantic April Kepner ran towards me. I don't know what came over me. The surgeon in me ached for the adrenaline rush I feel every time I set foot in a trauma room or an OR. I haven't felt that rush, that high in months. I'm not used to feeling so weak and helpless. So when Webber's patient crashed in the middle of the ER I knew what I had to do. The biker threw the first punch!" he exclaimed.

" It's always someone else's fault," Cristina muttered.

" What do you want me to say Cristina?" Owen demanded as she began driving again.

" How about you stop making promises you obviously can't keep?" she spat as they pulled into the driveway outside Meredith's house.

" What are you talking about?" he asked quizzically before climbing out of the car.

" Of course you don't remember."

" Remember what?"

" I don't have time for this. I've got surgery," responded Cristina as she tossed Owen his keys before nearly peeling rubber out of the driveway.


As he entered the house, Owen wracked his exhausted brain for any hint of what Cristina had been talking about. By the time he had made his way upstairs, his head was viciously pounding. Owen stumbled into the bathroom, grateful to find a bottle of Tylenol sitting on the counter. He quickly swallowed two pills with a splash of water from the sink before making his way back to the bedroom. Owen paused briefly as he tossed the covers back and got into bed. It wasn't until he closed his eyes and smelled the faint scent of Cristina's shampoo that it hit him. Just a few weeks ago they had laid side by side in bed as Owen promised to keep his savior complex in check. As sleep overtook him, Owen found himself plagued with guilt.