Author's note: Told you! You just had to hit that 'next' button ;)
So, this is the last chapter. Now, stop being mad at me for killing Owen and read, he's not dead in vain, I promise.

Cristina woke up in an empty bed, frantic, with her vision altered by hot tears. The sheets felt ice cold under her hands. Her breaths started to come out shallower ans shallower until air refused to enter her lungs as realisation settled a little more. He was dead. How could it hurt so damn much... Two weeks of her life and she was imprinted by him, almost unable to live without him. The sounds coming out of her throat wrecked the silence of the room, like chopped gasps. Her eyes scanned the room but she didn't recognised anything. It wasn't the same bed, or the same appartment for that matter. What has she done? She lifted her hand to her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sounds coming uncontrolled now from her mouth as she fought to release the stranded breath out of her lungs. She was about to lose the fight when she heard heavy foosteps rushing to her. A second later the bed shifted behind her and a pair of arms circled her entire upper body, crushing her until she finally exhaled all the way out and managed to take a more normal breath. The body behind her was wet and the scent of soap and shampoo soon invaded her nostrils. Automatically, she clinged on his ams like she would have held onto a roc in the middle of a storm, so hard it must have been painful for him, whoever he was. The man loosened his grip around her shaking frame, just a little, just to ease her breathing, but he didn't realease her.

That's how well this man knew her. See, this wasn't new for her him, even tho she had not had any of those nightmares in a long, long time. He stroke the entire lenght of her back, hoping it will help her a little more. Her nightmares about 'the plane crash' used to be the more violent ones, but occasionnally, the ones involving a shooting and a surgery at gun point were also really hard on her. It had to be one of those, he thought. He rocked her shaking body lovingly, his head nestled in her heck, whispering soothing words. Most times, it worked. But today, he wasn't sure.

- "Hey... hey... shhhhh... it's okay... Shhhhh... I got you, you're okay now. Shhhhh..."

Her vision started to clear out, a good sign that her oxygen level was coming back to normal, and that's when she saw it. On the finger of her left hand. A wedding band, matching the one resting on one of the man's fingers, or so it seemed. Small pieces of the last ten years slowly came back to her, like a puzzle she tried to put together. She remember meeting the guy when she was still broken. She remembered them moving in this very appartment. She remembered her wedding, big, with her friends. She remembered tiny irrelevant memories, but mostly she remembered pain and loss filling every little gap of her life. She couldn't refrain the sob that escaped her mouth, soon followed by another one, and another one, until she was crying full force. She didn't want that life. She wanted her army badass surgeon. She wanted HIM to hold her, not that guy.

After a long moment, when tears finally came to an halt, when the body heat of the man who had not make one attempt to move whatsoever, no matter how incomfortable he must have been by now, had warm her, Cristina started to relax. She closed her eyes, trying to hold on to the memories before the last ten years make them fade away. Maybe she could pretend, just this once...

She closed her eyes and turn around, engulfing herself in the warm embrace of her husband, nuzzling his throat. His skin was smooth and he smelled good, it would do fine. He was a little surprised when she searched for his lips but welcomed her tongue in his mouth right away, greeting it with his own. One of her hand sneacked around his neck, her fingers running throught his still damp hair (longer than Owen's, but she pretended she didn't notice that difference), preventing him from backing away from her, even if he had no intention to do so. Her kiss became hard, demanding, almost painful, but he didn't seem to care. Again, he knew her.

Soon, her hands started ro roam over his chest and lower and only then did he get really worried. Her kisses began to be even more demanding, her tongue aggressive and invasive and her fingers found the button of his jeans. He abrupty broke the kiss, more concerned by the minute and grabbed both her wrists in his hands.

- "Cristina... Wait."

She lowered her head and tears fell once more.

- "Cristina... " he started to clarify. "... It's not that I don't want this... You know that. I want you. God help me, I want you all the time. But you're upset right now. I can just, you know, hold you, until you feel better."

When she spoke, her voice was as broken as can be, pretty much like her heart.

- "I need... this... I need... Please...".

In a mere second, he made his choice. He was there for her, always. Thereby, he was willing to give her anything she wanted, anything she needed. This time, he was the one initiating the kiss that followed, a much softer one but still fully charged with all his love for her. But the more he kissed her, the more he felt her break down, tears rolling down her cheeks again and again. He stopped, more concerned than before if that was possible. He craddled her head his his hands and whispered, both their face only a few inches from one another.

- "Cristina, open your eyes. Open your eyes, please. Look at me, look at me."

But Cristina didn't want to. She didn't want to open her eyes. She wanted to stay ten years back, when those hands holding her were those of an army trauma surgeon with eyes that saw right into her soul.

But he pressed her again and something told her to oblige her husband.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found herself staring into intense blue eyes. Those eyes. She studied the face of her husband and it was all there, the light stubble, the scar, the long dimples and the short hair more blond than red by now even if a little longer indeed.

- "Owen..."

The disbelief in her voice almost made him smile.

- "Did you expect someone else?" he asked, fainting to be hurt.
- "No..." she answered right away "... God no..."

Cristina ran her fingers along his face, this face she loved and that she thought she had lost forever the time of a dream, or a nightmare most likely, in a vain attempt to convince her body that he hasn't gone anywhere.

- "I'm here." Owen whispered, sensing how shaken up she still was. "I'm here." he repeated again, softly yet firmly, leaving no space for doubt, except in her still foggy brain.

His hands cupped her face and he leaned closer to her, his lips now almost touching her skin. He started to lay light kisses on her forehead, each eye, cheek, nose, chin and lips ponctuating each kiss with a low 'right here' until she seemed to finally relax under his hands and mouth. When the last kiss started to get out of control, it felt right again. Not desperate or hopeless, and Cristina's brain shutted down, giving up the fake memories to fully accept the real ones. She let herself fall in passion and love, in a tsunami of emotions and feelings as she felt Owen's hands took control of more than just her flesh.

When a tiny bit of awareness finally came back to her, they were both standing on their knees and he was behind her again, not to forget inside of her too, and she was still shaking a little from the orgasm that had just ravage her. Owen's left hand (very skilled, she might add), was still resting between her opened legs but it had stop moving. He knew her like the back of his own hand. He knew that she liked pretty much everything regarding sex, but this, right there, was her favorite sex position of all times. It wasn't for the depth of penetration, or the angle of pressure. It was because of the intimacy, trust and surrender it involved and required. She couldn't touch him that much, let alone lose herself in his eyes or coax him to do anything, yet, she could concentrate on his lips either on the top of her spine or neck, on his chest pushing into her back more and more rapidly, the light hair there tickling the skin between her shouder blades, the tightening of his lower belly each time she arched her back...

She raised her arms up and behind his head, feeling the drops of sweat covering his neck and wetting his hair all over again. She turned her head towards him and their tongues met once more in a deep kiss conveying so many things she almost felt dizzy. Her body reacted instantly, contracting around him, and she realised he was still hard, so hard that the half-moan, half-groan she felt rumbling on his tongue and dying inside her mouth didn't surprise her. His right arm, holding her right under her breats, tightened around her and she knew he was trying to hold still and not to give in into his basic needs. But she had other plans. She wanted it. It all.

She broke the kiss and let her head fall back on his shoulder just when lights started to dance behind her eyelids. She hissed and moaned as she felt him slide even deeper into her. and she squeezed her inner muscles around him once more. The only answer she got was that sound he made, the one that meant: 'I can't hold it any more', making a shiver run down her spine with anticipation and accomplishment. Gently, he bent down until she was lying on her stomach and he withdrew from her before dropping light kisses on her neck and spine, all the way to the small of her back. He then helped her turn around so she was finally facing him and he resumed with his kisses, this time starting on her navel and up to her throat. Unconsciously, she opened her legs as he crawled up above her and felt him settle between them. He didn't push in right away and it seemed to her that she was about to explode if he didn't soon. Owen softly licked her lips before she opened her mouth to him and just as he tongue thrust into her did his hips imitated the movement. She gasped in ecstasy at the sudden and complete invasions. The moment he withdrew from her mouth, she wanted to protest, but his head dropped to her shoulder and he started to thrust with wild abandon.

It didn't take long for her entire body to start to tremble and shake violently. She lost all rationality, all sens of who she was, even her name. The only thing that kept coming to her brain was his name. Owen. Owen. Owen. That was all she could say, over and over again. He considered slowing the pace to give her the moment, but he was already too far gone with one foot already over the edge. He propped himself onto his hands, to see the beauty of pure bliss on her face, and to have better leverage as he kept pounding in her welcoming, still contracting body. He thrust and thrust and thrust again, until he fell off the surface of the world, absorbed in a colorful spin of emotions, spilling himself deep into his wife.

Cristina watched him as she slowly came back from her own oblivion, and she was amazed. Above her was this man she loved beyond everything she once thought possible. His arms were shaking either from the effort or the intensity or his release, his eyes were closed tight, his mouth slighly open, and his whole body was arched up like a bow. It was beautiful. Just beautiful. There was no other word. She started to stroke his chest, neck and shoulder, smiling, and he finally came back to her, collapsing on her like a ragdoll or almost, his breathing ragged.

He trembled in her arms and she fell in love with him all over again, like every day, not because the sex was earth shattering, but because he was the sun just as much as she was, revolving around each other.

Yes, it really is funny how little things can change everything. Sometimes for the best, and sometimes... not.

At some point in her life, Cristina would have give the world for things to turn out differently. Today, she wouldn't change a single thing for the world. She embraced it all: PTSD, choking, trading, begging, shooting, wedding, leaving, affairs, divorce, leaving some more. Yes she would take it all over again as long as it meant what happened next: Missing, calling, coming, falling, loving, wedding... thriving.

Sometimes, you just have to wait. Wait. Wait some more. Wait for the world to turn up exactly the way it should.

It IS going to happen.

Just wait.

Wait.

Here we go! See... I told you, I'm not that horrible now am I? I wouldn't do this to my favorite character!

Anyway, I really want to thank you guys, for following, reviewing and baring with me for this. I'll be beyond happy if you'd care to review one last time.
I'll be updating my other story soon, so don't forget if there's a beta among you, I do need you!

Thank you again!