**Author's Note: Stay tuned for more dark and twisty. (Did you think I was going to wrap it up all nice and pretty so easily?) Enjoy and thanks for the reviews!

And guilty I may be

But don't give up on me

In the wake of the Odyssey

We will still be thick as thieves

You and me still thick as thieves

~Thick As Thieves~ Shinedown

By the third day of bed rest, Owen found himself running on fumes. The nightmares had become relentless to the point Owen was lucky if he got a solid thirty minutes of sleep. He knew he should talk to Derek, but something inside him stopped him from doing so. Cristina was still refusing his phone calls. He must have left half a dozen voicemails and double the amount of text messages, but received nothing back in return. Owen felt like he had seen every episode of Untold Stories of The ER and found himself able to predict the diagnosis and treatment well before the onscreen doctors did. After finishing an episode where a man's severe migraines turned out to be a bullet lodged in his skull, Owen found himself on the brink of insanity. Without hesitation, he climbed out of bed and switched his pajama pants for sweats and a pair of tennis shoes. It didn't take him long to make his way downstairs to the study where his new treadmill stood waiting. Screw Derek's orders for total bed rest. With the press of a button, the treadmill's display lit up. Owen stepped on, programming the speed to half of what he normally did at the gym. He hadn't been running since before the shooting. As he cranked up the speed, Owen felt his body relax. Running had always been therapeutic for him.

It wasn't long before his shirt was drenched in sweat. The sound of his shoes pounding on the treadmill filled his ears, distracting him from the burning pain that had begun forming in his calf muscles. Knowing better than to continue straining his already weak legs, Owen adjusted the treadmill's speed, slowing it down so he was moving at more of a brisk walk. By the time he stepped off the treadmill, Owen found himself shocked by the fact that he had run two miles in under twenty minutes. He normally could run five miles in forty-five minutes or less, but considering the fact his body wasn't at its prime due to his injuries, eighteen minutes wasn't a bad accomplishment.

Owen could feel his legs aching in protest as he shuffled into the hallway. By the time he had reached the stairs, they felt like jelly. Somehow he managed to pull himself up the staircase on two feet. Owen pulled his shirt off and tossed it on the bed at the exact moment his legs collapsed underneath him. He found himself falling onto the bed, his body sprawled out on top of the covers. In that precise moment the exhaustion overcame him, his eyes closing before his head had hit the pillow.

" You stink." The words echoed in Owen's brain as he fought against his body to stay asleep. It took him a few seconds to register who the voice belonged to.

" Cristina?" he asked wearily, opening his eyes to assure himself he wasn't hearing things.

What are you doing here?"

" I live here," she retorted as she sat on the corner of the bed. Owen sat up and moved over so she could sit beside him.

" Can we talk?"

" Not until you shower," she replied. He glanced at the clock as he pulled off his clothes. Had he really just slept for over four hours?

" Guess a good run was all I needed," he muttered, limping to the bathroom.

" Better not let McDreamy hear you say that!" Cristina shouted as Owen entered the bathroom. He headed straight for the bathtub knowing that his legs wouldn't be able to hold his body up long enough for a shower. After filling the tub up with steaming hot water and a handful of Epsom salts for his aching muscles, Owen sank into the tub. The warm water felt heavenly as he submerged himself.

A few minutes passed by, his muscles feeling much looser. As much as he wanted to soak in the water until it was stone cold, Owen also desperately wanted to see Cristina. He quickly washed himself up, enjoying a few more minutes in the tub before he pulled the plug. Owen got out of the bath, wrapping a towel around his waist as he did so. Looking in the mirror, he carefully pulled the large bandage off his forehead. The cut that Jackson had stitched together snaked from his left temple to the end of his left eyebrow. It seemed to be healing well despite the fact it still looked awful. Owen grabbed some gauze and tape from a drawer, carefully re-applying the bandage. When he was finished he straightened up, now able to see his torso in the mirror. A long, thick scar ran from just below his clavicle to right above his abs. A second much smaller scar was to the right of it, left from where his chest tube had been placed. Owen found himself running his fingers down the length of the scar on his chest. It was at that precise moment that the seriousness of his injuries sank in. He had almost died. Beneath that scar was a still healing ribcage that had been cracked apart just a few short months ago, not to mention the rest of the damage that the bullets had inflicted. No wonder Cristina was pissed. Why had he done something nearly as stupid as tackling an unstable man with a gun?

He winced at the throbbing pain in his chest as he bent down to pull up his boxers and pants. Forget the concussion. His headache paled in comparison to the pain stemming from his broken ribs.
" Can you grab me an icepack?" Owen asked as he re-entered the bedroom.

" Take your medicine," Cristina ordered before leaving the room. Owen swallowed the pills she had left out for him.

" I couldn't find an icepack, but there was an old bag of corn in the deep freezer," Cristina said, throwing the corn and a towel to wrap it in beside Owen on the bed.

" Cristina, I…" Owen started.

" I met Mr. Haney this morning."

" Who?"

" Webber's patient."

" How's he doing?" asked Owen.

" He's expected to make a full recovery. His wife asked me to tell you thanks for all you did to save him," she replied flatly.

" How did she know?"

" Security finally isolated the film from the incident and the police interviewed the bikers who instigated the fight. Turns out they had been kicked out of the event after their rider attempted to crash into the second patient who then crashed into Mr. Haney. The second patient apparently had slept with someone's married sister."

" Are you sure that wasn't the plot of last week's Jerry Springer episode?" joked Owen.

" If that's the episode I'm thinking of, the man made out with his former best friend's prize winning goat that participated in beauty pageants."

" When were you watching Springer?" wondered Owen.

" Someone left it on in the lounge."

" Sure they did," said Owen with a laugh as he turned towards Cristina.

" My money's on Karev," Cristina replied as Owen took her hand.

" You know, it didn't dawn on me until today of all the hell I put you through."

" You don't have to…" she started.

" That's where you're wrong. I do have to. I hurt you. I can't imagine what it must have been like. If I were in your shoes, if you were the one in a coma, facing death after doing something so stupid…Cristina, if you ever died I don't think I could possibly recover from that. I deserve all of your anger, disappointment, and then some. I should have waited for security."

" You should have kept your damn savior complex in check."

" I know. I wish I could say it would never happen again, but I'm done making promises I can't keep."

" Promise me one thing though?"

" That depends."

" Promise not to eat my share of the pizza I ordered. I'm climbing in the shower."

" Is it from Louie's?"

" They have a new loaded taco pizza."

" Then you better hurry. I'm starving."