Chapter 75: Yang is Back

November

As he brushed his teeth, Owen attempted to once again clarify the logistics of the day. Few experiences could be more confusing than having five children and an ill nanny. He mumbled to Amelia as he brushed, "I'll meet you at 2:30 in the OR. I'll be finished with my shift, you'll hand off the babies, and then I'll go get the older kids."

"Right," Amelia confirmed as she fussed with the waves in her hair, "And, remember, if you are able to sneak out a little earlier, meet me at the orthopedist at 1:15. We're receiving the results of Gwendolyn's hip function analysis and having her leg brace fitted today."

"Right," Owen confirmed.

"Once we meet up, you'll take Finley and Oliver to their soccer practices and Bronwyn to dance," Amelia prompted. "The best route is to drop Finley off first, then Oliver. Stay at Bronwyn's dance practice – there's a great playroom there that the twins like. By the time Bronwyn is done, head over to pick up Oliver. Then you'll have a 45-minute wait until Finley is ready."

Owen straightened his tie, quickly kissed Amelia, and made his way to the hospital. When she heard the overhead garage door open and then close, she closed her eyes and took in a slow, deliberate, and deep breath. Glancing at the clock, Amelia noted she had 10 minutes before she had to wake up the older kids. The babies would be awake sometime in the next half hour. She looked at herself in the mirror. The tapes of her mother's voice played in her head silently as words echoed internally, how did you get yourself into this mess, Amelia?

Taking another calming breath, Amelia slowly opened the third drawer of the vanity. Her hands were shaking as she attempted to open the box holding the pregnancy test. In her anxiety, she dropped the box on the floor. She sat down with her back against the tile, picked up the box, opened the side, and began to fumble with the test stick's outer wrapping.

After walking over to the toilet and peeing on it, Amelia set the stick on the counter and washed her hands. She slid down the tile on the wall, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She noted the time and knew she would have a result in three minutes.

As she waited, her internal dialogue shifted from thought to thought in a series of bursts. Why am I even doing a pregnancy test – that's just silly. I haven't even had a period since the twins were born. But I guess I have been pretty tender lately when the girls are nursing…no, that's just because they latch on and then take my nipple with them as the look away. Of course, that's uncomfortable. Why am I even doing this test? Of course, I'm tired – I'm trying to work nearly full-time and raise 5 kids. Even with help and a great husband, that's a crazy amount of responsibility. I'm not any more tired than any other working mom with 5 kids. And the vomiting last week, that was just the bug that Lynne has now. Bronwyn brought it home from school, gave it to me, and I gave it to Lynne. It's not morning sickness, right? It couldn't be. There's no way, except I feel like I'm about to barf right now. And how in the hell have I put off dealing with birth control for the last 4 months? I knew we were covered as long as the babies were breastfeeding 6 times a day and the girls were under six months. I've been meaning to deal with birth control – it just seems to get moved from each old to do list to each new one. How could 4 months of that routine have gone by? How did I lose track of time? Speaking of time, it's time to look at the test. I'm not even sure what result I want. No, I do know. I don't want to be pregnant. Not yet. The babies are still so little. Not yet. Maybe someday. Maybe. But after that horrendous pregnancy with the twins? I'm not sure I ever want to experience all those ups and downs ever again…but the girls are getting so big. They're almost not babies anymore. If I am pregnant, I wonder if it's a boy. A little boy that looks like Owen – he'd be so darling…oh that's right, the test. It's ready. All I have to do is stand up and reach for it. The result will be right there before me. Just stand up, Amelia. Grab the test. See what it says. C'mon. Stand up. Face the music…or the plus sign…or the minus sign. Stand up, Amelia.

Amelia stood up and reached for the stick. She looked at it and her breath was taken away. Shaking, she opened the third drawer again and set the test inside. She walked back to the tile and slid down its comforting cold. Beginning to slightly hyperventilate, tears streamed down her face in rapid succession. She buried her head in her knees, figuring she had at least 5 minutes to emote before waking up the kids. Sobbing as quietly as she could, yet emitting noise from deep inside herself, Amelia finally let go of self-control and invited the tears to flow.

After three minutes, her head still buried, she gasped and attempted to catch her breath. Knowing it was almost time to stop the tears, Amelia heard a little voice full of worry and concern, "Mommy? Are you ok?"

Bronwyn's little hand found its way to Amelia's shoulder as Amelia sniffled and began drying tears off her face. Bronwyn's tiny eyebrows hung low as her curious eyes studied her mama's face, "Mommy, what's wrong?" Sliding onto the cool tile wall, Bronwyn snuggled along Amelia's side and hugged her. "I'm here, Mommy," she offered as she rubbed Amelia's tummy. Amelia wrapped her arm around Bronwyn and squeezed her daughter in closer.

"Thanks, Bronwyn," Amelia sputtered out, deeply disappointed in herself for being discovered. Sniffling and reaching for a towel, Amelia wiped off her face and held the towel against her eyes.

"Mommy, what's wrong? You were really, really crying. That was super sad crying," Bronwyn observed.

Forcing a grin onto her face, Amelia responded, "I'm ok, sweetie. I'm ok. Everything is all right. Mommy just had lots of feelings all stored up that needed to come out. Now go get dressed for school and we'll meet downstairs for breakfast in a few, ok?" Amelia stroked Bronwyn's hair and tightly pressed her lips together to avoid falling apart again. She stood up and walked to the hallway, waking up each of the boys and then entering the nursery to embrace her hungry babies.

"Uhhhh…Cristina. Hi," Owen muttered with absolute confusion as he stepped on the elevator and saw the Twisted Sisters. He moved to the opposite side of the elevator, so he was neither behind nor in front of the women.

"Owen…" Cristina responded without affect.

Unconsciously, he shook his head as if attempting to wake up from a dream. As an afterthought, he glanced at Meredith and smirked, "Dr. Grey."

"Dr. Hunt," Meredith grinned like a cat who'd just eaten a canary.

Cristina and Meredith exchanged glances and Cristina very quietly whispered to Mer so Owen could not hear, "Geez, Mer, I thought I'd have some time before I saw him."

Meredith shrugged and announced, "Oh, Owen. I've been meaning to catch you since Halloween to let you know Cristina is coming for a visit."

As the elevator stopped on his floor, Owen nodded and offered a distracted grin with just the hint of a small chuckle, "Excuse me, ladies." He stepped off and headed for his office, still wondering what had just occurred.

After the elevator door closed, Cristina and Meredith burst into anxious laughter as Cristina mocked, "Excuse me, ladies." The laughter turned to giggles then back to laughter before the two attempted to look at each other seriously and exploded into laughter once again.

After quickly unlocking the door, Owen slid inside his office. He exhaled deeply as he leaned against the closed door. He glanced out the office windows, breathing slowly and trying to decide what he should do next.

Owen took his cell phone from his lab coat pocket and called down to Kepner. "April, I'll be in my office catching up on some paperwork."

"No problem, Chief," April responded with the vitality of a morning person.

"Call me if you get slammed or if you need an extra set of hands. Really, don't hesitate," Owen instructed.

April agreed happily and awkwardly added, "Ummm…Chief. Did you know Yang is in town? I mean, I'm not sure if you'd want to know that or maybe you already knew, but I just saw her, and I thought you might want to know."

"Thanks, Kepner," Owen concluded without commentary or clarification as he hung up the phone and wondered to himself, why do I feel like I should call Amy and let her know Cristina's here? It's not like I'm cheating on her or anything. But if she finds out I knew and didn't say anything…hmmmm. Maybe I'll just text her.

Owen began typing, You'll never guess who I just ran into. Cristina. Guess she's visiting Mer.

Amelia's phone buzzed as she was driving the kids to school, so she asked Finley to read the text to her. After he read it, Finley asked, "Who is Cristina?"

"Auntie Mer's best friend," Amelia disclosed without sharing further connections. "Honey, will you type back: hope to see you at 1:15?"

"Sure. I'm gonna use my phone, though. I don't like typing on yours," Finley explained. He typed a text to Owen that read, Mom says she hopes to see you at 115 today.

Owen responded, Thanks, buddy. How's your day so far? On your way to school?

Yeah. Morning was pretty good at home. Mom's been crying. Not sure why. Finley shared.

Owen read Finley's text repeatedly, not sure how to respond. Finally, he typed, We all have rough days. Be kind to her.

Yeah, will do. Have a great day, Dad, Finley concluded.

Owen typed, You too. Have Mom call me as soon as she can. As he sent the text, Owen was paged 911 to the ER.

"Whatta we got?" Owen hollered to the paramedic over the noise of the siren and morning traffic.

The paramedic began sharing bullets, "GSW to the chest, appears to have missed the heart. 22-year-old male. Patient unconscious at the scene, but ABCs intact. BP 90/65. Pulse 75. Another victim's coming in right behind us. Cops were searching for the shooter when we pulled out."

"How bad is the 2nd victim?" Owen inquired quickly.

The paramedic shook his head tentatively, "Not looking good, Chief."

"Grey. Trauma 2. Page cardio. People – let's keep Trauma 1 open for the next bus," Owen commanded. Meredith ran up and accompanied her patient inside.

As if haunting him, Cristina sat on the bench outside the ER door watching the commotion. Owen spotted her as he waited for the second ambulance, which was within earshot. He clasped his hands and placed them behind his neck as he walked and breathed slowly, offering with a chuckling huff, "You want to get busy? I can grant you privileges."

Cristina jumped up and nearly smiled, "Really?"

"Grab a gown," Owen ordered as Cristina ran in quickly and returned 45 seconds later. The two stood side by side awkwardly not speaking. Looking at her and grinning, Owen caught Cristina's eyes a couple times. Once their eyes met, he'd turn away as if he was looking for the ambulance. Kepner and a couple residents stood nearby silently.

The ambulance drove up and Owen asked again, "Whatta ya got?"

"Second victim. 21-year-old female. Thready pulse, BP 60/40, pulse 55 when we can capture it. Shot in the hip, maybe abdomen too. We had to hightail it out of there – couldn't fully assess. She's bleeding profusely – haven't been able to slow it. Next bus is the shooter. Shot himself in the heart after running from the scene. Only 13. 13," the paramedic shared.

"Kepner, run this one. Call in Bailey or Webber. Grab a handful of residents to help stop the bleeding. Let's take her to Trauma 3," Owen called out. "And, Kepner, have someone page Karev for this next one. I want him down here to meet the ambulance."

Owen and Cristina were left in the ambulance bay alone. "You've still got it, Owen. You make this place your bitch," Cristina prodded.

Gently chuckling, Owen responded, "Thanks…I think." He smiled and held his gaze for a few seconds. "How's… uh… how's Switzerland? Everything you'd imagined?"

Cristina grinned and offered factually, "Switzerland is great. Really great."

"Good," Owen nodded as his voice trailed off. Silence once again pervaded the air. Owen continued to slowly breathe and walk around the bay as he awaited the next patient.

"Mer tells me you're married," Cristina spoke into the space between him as Owen's back faced her.

Owen turned and nodded, "Yeah. Amelia Shepherd. For about 18 months." Then he turned away again and resumed walking in figure eights.

"Congratulations," Yang declared.

"Thanks," Owen responded without turning around.

Cristina honestly asked, not aware of Owen's family situation, "Kids?"

Owen chuckled loudly, "Yeah. Kids."

"What's so funny?" Cristina asked dryly as if disturbed by his laughter.

"Five. We have 5 kids," Owen disclosed.

"Five? Married 18 months? I know you were eager to have kids, but how'd that happen? Did you have quints or something?" Cristina asked with joyful and perplexed shock.

Owen strolled closer to Cristina and stopped beside her. He explained, "My cousin in Canada died. Did you ever meet Kayla? She was the one whose fire fighter husband died in a burning building. Anyway, Amy and I inherited three kids right after we were married and about the same time, we found out she was pregnant. Later, we found out she was having twins."

"Seriously?" Cristina exclaimed.

Owen shrugged with a sheepish grin in response as Alex ran out, "What's going on, Chief?"

"13-year-old shooter on his way. Shot himself in the heart after taking out the patients in Traumas 2 and 3. Yang's gonna help with the heart," Owen explained.

"Evil Spawn!" Cristina exclaimed happily, "I've been eager to find you so I could pester you. Married yet? Kids? Or did she dump you?"

"No," Alex said with disgust. "We're still together. Not married. No kids. She's a resident – we don't need a baby right now."

"Not getting much action, huh? She works long hours?" Cristina harassed.

"Go to hell," Karev sneered. He paused for 10 seconds then added with a sigh, "It's good to see you, Yang."

"Here he comes," Owen announced as the ambulance pulled up and the paramedic offered details. Owen, Yang, and Karev took the patient to Trauma 1 and rapidly began working on him. Owen's phone buzzed repeatedly in his pocket as Amelia attempted to reach him.