A/N: Hey, guys! Though my interest in this story dwindled in the last few months, I'm sure you've noticed that I have fallen in love with it again. Most of the time I was absent from this, I was stressing out about college and trying not to waste time writing, but that made me realize that when I write, it actually makes me happier. Writing is my passion. I hope you like this series of chapters airing tonight, and I hope that, if you enjoy my writing – and if you're a fan of the X-files – you'll check out my only other story, which picks up after the ninth season of X-files ends. (yes, I am shamelessly plugging my other book). Anyway, I really love reading reviews from you guys, and I hope you like the chapter that follows.

Home.

August 15, 2016.

Zurich, Switzerland.

Owen woke up with sunlight pouring over his back. He was a few hours ahead of his alarm, so he laid in silence for a while, just enjoying the sensation of the sun and the way the sheets felt on his skin. He knew his lover was gone for the day – she was the queen of cardio at her own hospital in the city, and it was her week to work the day shifts – but he was not alone in the house. He was sharing the bed with a baby boy, who was splayed across Cristina's side of the bed wearing only a damp diaper. He was a sound sleeper, despite causing his new mother a lot of trouble when he was first adopted. It took a marching band to wake the kid up now.

When he finally decided to get up, he did so as quietly as possible, slipping into the kitchen soundlessly. Collin had a habit of sensing when Owen was up and then immediately demanding all of his attention. It was ridiculous. Cristina thought it was hilarious.

He mulled around in the house for a little while, cleaning up the Sunday night disaster area formerly known as the living room and scrubbing the dishes he had used to cook baked spaghetti. It still smelled like garlic. He took a shower, doing his best to get the smell of the park off of him. Collin went nuts every time he saw a duck, so they had to take him to the park on Sunday mornings and let him chase the poor creatures. It was only his crippled leg that spared the birds. Owen had no intention of going home smelling like a zoo.

By the time he finished his morning routine, Collin was stirring. He made a little cooing noise, calling for whoever was in the house, and when Owen peeked around the corner at him, he grinned and hid his face in the covers. Owen crouched nearby.

"Good morning," he said, unable to help his own grin. He turned into a doofus whenever he was with the baby. Cristina claimed it was embarrassing, but he knew that she was pleased with it. She was always more snuggly when Collin was around. He gave her his baby vibes, and she reacted incredibly to it. Motherhood was working for her. It was really brightening her days.

Collin stretched out, flinching a little and rolling across the bed. Owen plucked him out of the covers and kissed his belly, making him giggle. His leg looked a little stiff, but their next stop was the rehabilitation center, so he didn't let himself get too concerned.

He took the baby into the kitchen, poured him a bowl of his favorite cereal, and let him sit on the counter while he ate it. He ran a tiny brush through the kid's curly blonde hair, using a washcloth to dab some of the crud away from his eyes and nose. He changed him, bathed him, and got him dressed, all the while provoking as much laughter as he could. Collin was the happiest kid he had ever met – when he told Cristina that she was the real light in his life, the real reason he had become the child that he was, she always denied it, but Owen knew the truth. Somehow the two of them had saved each other. She could have been crushed under a piano during the workday, but when she came home to Collin, it all faded away.

"It's time to go see Ms. Dawn," he said, bouncing the kid around when he pulled him from his favorite show. He only got a moment of protest before Collin was distracted by the bouncing. He grabbed the diaper bag from the table and swept out the door, appreciating the heat they walked into. He had imagined Switzerland as a cold wasteland, but the weather was mild this time of year. It was almost perfect, if only it didn't ran spontaneously.

His drive was short, but interesting. He talked baby with Collin on the way, having no idea what he might be saying, but gathering huge support from the kid in the car seat. He imagine it was something to do with politics, and the purpose of life.

Dawn was waiting for him when he arrived. She always sat out on the bench in front of the center when she was free, and Collin was the only kid she saw on Monday mornings, so he always got the best greeting. She hadn't been working long enough that day to be irritated, and Collin was so sweet that she – and many others inside – were in love with him anyway.

"Good morning, Mr. Hunt," Dawn said as he got out of the car. He took Collin out of his car seat and she grinned, coming over to take him. "And good morning to you, sweetheart."

Collin squealed, delighted by his new company.

"Do you have to run off?" Dawn wondered, glancing at the doors. "You can stay and watch him for a while, if you want. I heard he was taking your last name."

"We were thinking about it," Owen corrected. "And no, I have a flight to catch. I have to be back in Seattle for my shift tonight. But thank you for offering. Cristina will be here to pick him up at eight. Oh, and she wanted me to tell you that he took a few normal steps last night. Stood straight up like a little champion."

Dawn smiled, bouncing the baby in her arms. "Say bye-bye to daddy, Collin."

Owen was about to correct her again, but Collin did a little wave with his fingers and said, "Bye-bye daddy," in his sweet little voice. It melted his heart.

"I'll see you next Monday," Dawn said, carrying the boy inside.

Owen stood there for a little while, stunned by what the kid had said. He could have dissolved right there in that parking lot. Usually Collin only talked about food, using short, commanding phrases, like 'cookie mine.' Cristina would be so pissed that she hadn't been here to hear this. He had to get him to repeat it later, to make sure she knew he was capable of it.

He dropped her car off at the hospital and took a taxi to the airport – she always took a taxi to work on Mondays, so he would be able to drop Collin off in her SUV. Collin was very picky about what vehicles he rode in. It was a system that had seemed silly at first, but now it was just natural.

XxX

His trailer was not empty when he got there. Derek was parked in his yard, taking up his space, and he saw the neurosurgeon drinking a beer on his front porch. He looked tired, probably from working the late shift, but he didn't look particularly grumpy. Owen wasn't sure why he was there, but he went to join him anyway, taking a beer from the cooler by his side. He sat on the steps and leaned against the wall.

"Back from Switzerland?" Derek wondered.

"No, I'm still there. You're hallucinating."

Derek smiled. "You've been spending too much time with Cristina. You're starting to catch the sarcasm." He took a sip of his beer. "Amelia is leaving, you know. She said she wants to go to New York. She took a job with a cancer research company."

He didn't know how to feel about Amelia. His relationship with her had been long enough, but he could not, for the life of him, figure out what he had seen in her. It seemed cruel now, to take back the things he had said to become her boyfriend in the first place, but his mind was too focused on Cristina. Everything else was put on hold. He would never say that to Derek. He would never admit that he had lost the spark for Amelia the moment he was been reunited with Cristina. But he suspected Derek already knew. He was smart guy.

So he just sipped his beer and nodded respectfully, keeping his mouth shut.

"I think she'll be fine," Derek said. "I'm surprised she even stayed this long. She moves around a lot. She doesn't really have a place to call home, not yet."

Owen sighed. "I'm not sure that I do, either."

"I was thinking about that, too," Derek said, setting his beer beside him. He looked over at Owen, all of the genuine friendship from before spilling through his eyes. "I think you should live here. I think you and Cristina should invest in a house – not just an apartment, or a rental. I think you should buy a place that your kid can grow up in. Or build one."

"She has a hospital to run."

"From the way Meredith puts it, it seems like that kid is more important to her now. Shane is running it half the time, anyway, isn't he?"

"He's just a kid. He's not ready to take that on."

"She doesn't have to give it to him – not yet." Derek started using his hands, creating a timeline out of thin air. "She just owns it from afar – digitally. When he gets enough experience he can take over, but until then she still makes the big decisions. She's just here, instead of in Zurich."

"I can't ask her to give up her career."

"There are different types of legacies. I think she might be realizing that. Kids are… kids are something special." His eyes shone. "Zola was a handful, but now she's ready to start kindergarten, and she has a world of possibilities in front of her. That's the little girl we adopted, Hunt. Back then I thought… well, we thought our careers meant everything. Now it's just her. Now it's just her and her brother."

"I heard there was going to be another kid on that list."

He smiled at that, laughing a bit. "Yeah. Seven months to go. They say it's another girl, but I'm still holding out for a boy. Science can kiss my ass."

Owen returned the smile, but it faded into a thoughtful frown. His head was buzzing with the possibilities Derek had laid out. "If Cristina really went for that… we could raise Collin here. He could know my mom, and you and Meredith, and Torres and Robbins, and little Sofia. He would be happy here."

"You just have to convince Cristina of that."

"Have you met Cristina?"

Derek laughed. It simmered out, and eventually faded, leaving the two of them in comfortable silence. He drank the rest of his beer, laying his head back against the wall, and then scooting out suddenly to look at the stars. His smile deepened into something more.

"I have a pretty important meeting in the morning."

Owen sat back a little, taking a settling breath. "Cristina told me."

Derek scratched his head. "By noon tomorrow, I'll be holding a video conference with the President of the United States. He's going to ask me to come to D.C. to head up his new healthcare initiative, and, honestly, I'm still not sure what to say."

"Think about it like this," Owen said. "You just pitched the idea of home to me. Maybe the best thing for your isn't out there somewhere, but here. Maybe it's home."

"Okay, we've had enough to drink," Derek chuckled.

"It's the jetlag, makes me emotional."

"I'm gonna go get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"Right."

He watched the neurosurgeon drive off, amused by his visit. He had only had one beer – it was still sitting on the table, barely empty. Working with the guy was one thing, because he was bossy and used to getting his own way, but being his friend was something different, something better. When Owen thought about putting down roots, he imagined both Meredith and Derek as part of his future. He imagined their kids playing together one day.

He got a text less than fifteen minutes later, with an image of Zola sleeping attached. He smiled, half because he was sure the flash had woken her up, and half because he knew that he was the same way where Collin was involved, despite only knowing the kid for a few weeks.

He wanted to define this place as home, but he could only hope his lover would agree.

XxX

He rushed between hospital beds, checking all of them for the face of the first woman he had seen. She was in the last row, among the other crash victims, still fighting against the nurses who tried to keep her from pulling a shard of glass out of her shredded cheek. He grabbed one of her hands, holding it down, and raised his voice above the chaos of the emergency room. "I need you to calm down! I'm going to take care of you, but I need you to let me do my job!"

She eased up on the struggling, but she still seemed panicked. Her perfectly blue eye was filling up with blood. He pressed her back into the mattress.

"Can I get some help over here?" He started prodding at her stomach, testing her body for other signs of trauma, aside from the obvious. He felt several hard patches in her abdomen. "Grey! We have some internal bleeding over here!"

Within seconds of his call, Meredith rushed to his side, placing her hands where his had been. "Shit," she cursed, ripping back the covers. She glanced around them, catching the first nurse who jogged past. "Find an OR for this patient – we have high priority internal bleeding. She needs to get into surgery right now."

"We need this out," Owen said, motioning to the glass piece. "Avery!"

He stepped back while Jackson did his thing. He waited anxiously beside Meredith, who kept checking her watch. She had a very slight baby bump rising up in her scrubs, making him wonder if she should be experiencing this kind of stress.

When the nurse returned, the bed started moving. Owen took the left side and Meredith took the right. She had a few rough stitches in her face, enough to keep the wound closed for the time being, and Jackson was jogging behind them, prepared to finish the job when the ball stopped rolling. Owen broke away first, scrubbing in as rapidly as he could manage and almost slamming into Meredith as they switched rooms. He got gloves from the nearest nurse and wielded his scalpel, pausing for a split second so Meredith could join him.

The anesthesiologist put a mask on their patient, but she was already very close to being unconscious. She began to drift off, her hand twitching, and then she was completely still.

Meredith had the scalpel poised over her abdomen, with every intention of cutting into her, when both of their pagers started going off madly. She jumped a little, looking bewildered, and then she made the first cut. "Someone check that. Find out what it is."

"I'm seeing some signs of blunt force on the skull," Owen said, moving around the table to get a look at the woman's flimsy head. She was falling apart all over. "We need Shepherd in here." He groaned, realizing Derek was on the way to his interview. "Page Amelia, and if you can't get her, call in Torres. I've got brain matter coming out on the table."

One of the nurses was at the wall, speaking rapidly to someone on the OR phone. Owen looked up just in time to see a horrified expression spread across her face. He stopped to stare at her.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

"What is it?" he demanded. His thoughts went to Cristina immediately. Had something happened to Collin? Was his bright future with her about to end in flames?

But the nurse was not looking at him. Her eyes were fixated on Meredith. "Dr. Grey…"

Meredith glanced up, appearing irritated. "What?"

"It's Dr. Shepherd."

Meredith froze. Owen saw the situation deteriorating and stepped up to her side, taking the scalpel from her hand and nudging her out of the way. He started plugging holes, throwing messy stitches over the spurting veins in her abdominal cavity.

"What happened?" Meredith asked. Her voice was painfully calm.

"He was in the other car… the car that the bus hit," the nurse said, blinking rapidly. She didn't seem to know how to say it. She was stuttering horribly. "They're bringing him in now."

"B-B-B-B-But I have a…" Meredith looked at the patient, and then down at her stomach. "I have a patient. I have surgery. I…" Her eyes traveled to Owen, and he saw how glassy they were becoming. She was losing her strength. "Owen?"

"I can handle this," he said, though he wasn't sure that it was true. "Go to him. Go to Derek."

She frowned at him, her eyebrows pulling down in a delicate way, and then she left the OR. She only stopped to throw her bloody gloves and cover in the hazardous materials box in the scrub room. Beyond that, it was just a swinging door.

Owen felt his heart sliding into his stomach. He had just spoken to Derek, seen the stars sparkle in his eyes, listened to him talk about how much he loved his kids, how much he loved his family – and now this? Owen had been running between crash victims for an hour now, dealing with injuries common to flipped busses, but when he thought of how badly the person driving the other vehicle would have been injured, it made him feel sick. It would have been awful. Anyone hit with such force would be reduced to a gory mess.

How could it happen like this?