Chapter 38.

Person.

August 20, 2019.

"Cristina working at the paper factory tonight?"

Owen snorted, giving his friend a sideways glance as he popped another shrimp into his mouth. His wife had taken to calling her second job the 'paper factory' because she spent most of her days there filling out paperwork for clinical trials and research grants. She never complained about it openly, but Owen could tell it tired her out more than the hospital. It might have been the pressure of working under her illustrious idol Oliver Brightly, or the fact that her former apprentice Shane Ross worked there with her.

She was there again tonight, occasionally wasting time by texting him. "Yeah, or she would be at that recital with Meredith and Zola."

Derek dug a beer from the cooler between them, propping his feet up on the railing of his expansive back porch. It was late evening, but the sun had not quite gone down. From here they could see all the kids, running happily through the grass and squealing at each other.

"Everything okay between you two?" Derek wondered quietly.

Owen bristled a little at the question – only because so many people had been asking him that lately – but answered mechanically anyway, "Yes."

It was the truth. It was strange, but since she told him that Shane Ross might be the father of their son, Owen had been able to let go of some of his deepest rooted animosities toward his wife. For the past few days they had been getting along fine, though they never really spoke about her revelation. It would come eventually, he knew, but for now he was content. Shane had never been his favorite person, and now his feelings toward him were foggier than ever. He was somewhere between wanting to shoot him and shun him.

Derek let the silence stretch out between them, never the type to pry.

"Cristina thinks…" Owen began, uncertain. He hadn't said this out loud yet and the words got stuck in his throat. "Well, she told me she slept with Shane around when Henry was conceived."

Derek said nothing for a while, content to eat a few more shrimp and tip his head back to stare at the stars. Owen watched him, curious for his reaction – maybe to see if he was taking this news wrong. There was no judgement in his voice when he finally said, "So, Ross is the father?"

"Maybe."

Derek glanced over, looking appropriately upset at last, which made Owen wonder why he was so calm about the whole thing. He was no longer angry, though he should have knocked down Ross' front door and beat him to a pulp by now. No, Cristina wouldn't want that. She had a special relationship with Ross, one that had transcended her mentorship. Maybe he was worried that acting jealous and angry now would lead to something else.

"I wanted to hurt him, for doing it, and for letting her leave that night." Owen set his drink down, unwilling to take another sip. He was afraid he might crush it in his hand as his thoughts turned dark. "But it's a relief, too. He would never fight for custody."

Derek nodded thoughtfully, a little twinge of anger in his brow. Owen was sure that if he asked his old friend to go get a pitchfork, they would start the march to Ross' apartment together.

"More than that," Owen went on, unable to stop himself, "She loves him."

His friend nodded again, sipping his beer and shaking his head slowly. "Is it…? I mean, does she love him, or…?"

Owen shrugged. "I could never tell with those two."

"Me neither. But she loves you more. I can see that. Anyone could."

"I know."

Owen wasn't troubled by that. With all the things they'd been through, he no longer doubted how much she loved him. But there was a jealous man inside that wanted her love for him to be exclusive. What if she felt that way for Shane, even a little bit?

"I talked to Garrett about Collin," Derek said, changing the topic expertly. "He wanted to run it by some other colleagues of his. It turns out we know each other – we studied behavioral science together in college."

It was a distraction alright. Owen turned his attention to the yard, where Bailey and Collin were running around together trying to catch sluggish fireflies.

"How is he doing?" Derek wondered.

"Better lately, but more of the same."

Owen could say 'better' truthfully, but he had been avoiding setting the boy off for weeks now. Cristina insisted he stop trying to wrestle with him and just let him do his own thing, which was a hard parenting style for Owen, who was very hands-on. But their eldest son was independent. He was observant and clever, determined, able to set a plan for himself and see it through. Some nights he waited up for Cristina on the couch and then went straight to his own bed when he knew she was home. His big blue eyes could be plagued by awful mistrust and fury, but they could also brim with joy. Owen had accepted, grudgingly, that Collin just disliked him sometimes.

Derek seemed to be able to read his thoughts. He patted Owen on the shoulder. "None of this is your fault. I think all the blame for his behavioral… issues… goes to his birth mother."

He was not entirely sure of that, but Owen nodded anyway. He groped for another topic. "How is that argument with Meredith going?"

Derek groaned, "Raging. Meredith is just… stubborn."

Meredith and Derek had been arguing about getting plastic surgery for their scarred daughter Lexi for a while now. She nearly died when she was born, and the scar was the only reason she made it this far. But other kids pointed and stared and Meredith thought Lexi was going to get low self-esteem because of it. Derek thought she was still too young to care, and that they should wait.

"Cristina wants to wait until Collin turns five to have his next leg surgery," Owen told him.

"He gets around alright," Derek observed.

His night went on like that, a quiet reflection, a calm pool in a chaotic ocean of a life. He was starting to understand why Cristina always said that Meredith was her 'person.' If he had a problem he couldn't bring to Cristina, who would he call? It would probably be Derek. As irritating as he could be sometimes, the two of them got along really well. Somehow they understood each other.

"So, how far is the walk to Ross' from here? I have some tiki-torches we could light."

Owen snorted, and sipped his drink. "Heard from your buddy lately?"

"Who? Oh. Swartz? Yeah."

"How is his niece doing?"

"His nephew, and great. I gave him a few pointers over the phone. He might bring him by if his grade doesn't get any better." Derek drew in a long breath, taking another, longer swallow of his beer. "Is that what I am now? Middle school science tutor?"

"Beats being dead."

Derek smiled, "Sure does, Hunt. Sure does."