The Journey – Part One
Owen Hunt was distractedly making his way through the surgical floor when he heard a loud, muffled sound coming from the corridor ahead. To his surprise, he found Derek stomping against a vending machine, clearly frustrated.
The trauma surgeon hesitated for a while, taking a deep breath before walking up to the scene. It hadn't been more than a few weeks since that devastating day when Gary Clark had opened fire at the hospital and shot so many of their own. Derek had undoubtedly been more affected than most, considering he was the main target. Owen could only imagine how awful he must have been feeling.
Survival's guilt was a real thing and the former army surgeon could speak from experience. He didn't wish to Derek or anyone what he'd once gone through but, unfortunately, the bullet aimed for Derek had made two fatal victims, not to mention the incredible amount of physical and mental damage that still haunted a lot of the employees present on the surgical floor that day.
Slowly, the hospital was getting back on track after the tragedy, but Owen still dealt with the aftermath very closely, considering both his wife and friend had been intimately involved.
"Hey..." Owen tried to gently sweep into the situation, trying to prevent Derek from hurting himself or breaking the machine at his insistent kicks.
"Damn thing swallowed all my quarters..." Derek walked around in circles, trying to calm down but failing. He went back and gave the vending machine another kick, immediately regretting it the moment his toes started to throb inside his shoes.
"You know what, I got it," Owen pulled a dollar bill from his pocket and fed the machine, giving room for Derek to make his choice. The neurosurgeon clicked on the image of a candy bar, avoiding eye contact. It was clear that he was supressing a lot of anger. Knowing how hard Derek was trying to get Cristina back to her usual self, Owen wondered if she was the reason why he was so frustrated. "What's gotten into you? Is it Cristina?"
"No," Derek replied, too worked up to share more. He didn't want to discuss Cristina and how guilty he felt for what had happened to her. He also didn't want to discuss Amelia, the way she had unexpectedly appeared at the hospital earlier that day, bringing back that long lasting sensation that he'd somehow failed his own sister. All he wanted to do was to be left alone.
Owen had opened his mouth to argue when Meredith Grey materialized by their side. Judging by the impatient look Derek directed at his wife, Owen wondered if maybe his friend's bad mood had something to do with her.
"Don't worry," Meredith looked at the trauma surgeon, seeing how confused he was and rightfully assuming he was concerned about Cristina. "She is fine. She is helping Derek on a case."
"No, she is not, because there is no case," The neurosurgeon snapped back, clenching his jaw.
"There is a case and a very interesting one," Meredith replied back, not intimidated by her husband's rude manners.
Owen was still lost.
"What's going on?" He asked, frowning heavily.
"Derek's sister is here," Meredith confessed after seeing her husband's reservation. "He is upset because of her, not Cristina."
"I am not upset," Derek insisted, but it was obvious he was.
Meredith looked at him, obviously doubting his words, and then her gaze fell upon Owen.
"His younger sister who is also a neurosurgeon brought him a pituitary tumor," Meredith explained.
"Oh, nice," Owen approved, thinking maybe Cristina would take interest on the case and finally improve her mood.
"Yeah, she diagnosed it by feeling the guy's touch alone," Meredith added, hoping Derek would be admit his sister was actually a talented surgeon too and not the impulsive teenager he seemed to consider her to be.
"Impressive," Owen agreed with a head nod, wondering how exactly that diagnose had happened. He frowned in question, but quickly recovered after seeing the neurosurgeon sigh heavily in frustration.
"I am not touching that guy," Derek decided, walking away.
"Can't you at least take a look at the scans?" Meredith followed her husband. Owen now could only hear them by distance.
"You can tell Amelia to go home," Derek replied very decidedly. "My answer is no."
Later that day, Owen figured Derek must have had a very stubborn sister because the surgery did happen. But that piece of information didn't linger on his mind for more than a fraction of second. He was entirely concerned with his wife and how badly she was doing after the shooting incident. Owen hoped that the interesting case with the brain tumor might inspire her, but all Cristina did once she was back home was brood. She complained about Derek, who had forced her into surgery; about Derek's sister, who had, according to her, spent the entire day questioning her skills, and then about Owen, who she believe to be as annoying as them.
As Owen fought back with his wife, frustrated that she didn't realize how badly she was doing, he unconsciously created a mental image of the Shepherd sister. She was probably close to his wife and Meredith in age, and once he heard about Cristina's complaints, he immediately assumed she was probably an irritable, unattractive mid thirties annoying woman, who pushed residents to feel better about herself. It was very typical of neurosurgeons to have gigantic, pressing egos and Owen knew it.
But then once again his wife shut him out with what had become a familiar silent mood, refusing to open up or say a word about how she was feeling, and every image vanished from Owen's mind. He stared at Cristina, looking more difficult than ever. The trauma surgeon was assaulted by a wave of guilt as he unwillingly asked himself it all of that really was worth it. He had no right to be thinking that. He had made vows.
Duty and responsibility won over anything as Owen took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for the long night of unsuccessful attempts to establish a conversation with his wife that was about to unfold.
.
Owen looked outside his office, letting out a heavy sigh of discontentment and frustration. He had never imagined that being chief would be easy, but he also had not imagined it would involve that much paperwork. The trauma surgeon had just picked up his pen to resume signing budget reports when three knocks on his door distracted him.
"Hey," He saw the figure of Derek walking into his office, even though they didn't have any meetings scheduled for the day.
"I know you're busy, so I'll get straight to the point." Derek spared him of small talk, noticing how grateful the new chief seemed to be at his decision to be practical. The neurosurgeon knew Owen and his wife were at odds and their marriage was on the rocks, but that wasn't what he was there to discuss. "My sister is in town and she wants to bring over a gliosarcoma from LA for us to operate on together." Derek flipped open the envelope with scans and handed them over for the other doctor to check. "I have reviewed her plan and I think it could work."
Owen frowned heavily after scanning his eyes through the images. Neurosurgery wasn't his specialty, but that tumor looked very likely inoperable.
"Are you sure?" He looked back at his colleague. Derek was one of the few people whose capacities and technical skills Owen trusted completely.
"Yeah. Amy flew over and spent some time in the skills lab trying out a new approach," Derek then described to Owen the idea his sister had to access Erica Warner's tumor through the carotid artery, assess the tumor and reinstall blood flow in less than ninety seconds. It was a bold idea but after trying out for it a few times in the lab, Derek was convinced it could work. And no one liked to resect supposedly inoperable tumors more than he did.
"The plan seems very risky," Owen replied with honesty, pondering about the situation. He was sure he didn't need to remind Derek there was a high chance the patient could have a stroke, bleed out and die. "Are you sure you want to do it?"
"I am," Derek said with conviction. "I just need you to give my sister operating privileges and we're good to go." He added. "This woman… Erica." Derek put his hands inside his coat pockets. "She has a son. This is her only chance," He bargained, wondering why he was suddenly so invested and the obvious answer was that he wanted to do it for his sister. "We are her only chance."
Had it been anyone else, Owen would probably have discarded the idea or dwelled more on it before signing off on the procedure. But he knew that the patient, whoever she was, was in very capable hands. As Derek gave out the documentantion for Owen to fill the paperwork, allowing his sister privileges to work at the hospital, Owen couldn't help but feel optimistic about the idea judging by the unknown surgeon's impacting resume. Maybe being remarkably brilliant was something that ran in the family.
He knew Derek had a lot of sisters, reason why it didn't even cross his mind to consider that this inventive Shepherd might have been the same one who had given Cristina a rough time the year before, right after impressively diagnosing a brain tumor using pure semiology.
"You didn't meet my sister last time she was here," Derek said with a discreet nod and Owen finally made the connection, instinctively remaking the image of a geeky, self centered neurosurgeon who probably had a big ego. "I'll bring her over to introduce you the first chance I get."
"I'm looking forward to it," The trauma surgeon nodded, hiding his indifference.
If Derek said anything else after that, Owen really didn't pay any attention. His thoughts went back to the counseling session he'd had with his wife earlier that morning and his stomach churned with rejection at the idea of going back there and facing their demons. The therapist had suggested they took a break and tried again later that evening, but Owen wasn't even sure if Cristina would show up. Her insistence about not wanting kids and the way she had so decidedly aborted their baby still tormented him, it was all he could think about when he looked at her. His eyes fell on the scans Derek had left on his desk and Owen noticed the giant mass compressing everything around, sucking out the life of an otherwise healthy individual.
Even though it was hard to admit, he couldn't see a way out of the situation he was in. Having kids wasn't something he was willing to compromise and his wife clearly felt the exact opposite. The image of the gliosarcoma once again met his gaze and Owen let out a heavy sigh, completely overtaken by hopelessness.
Maybe that's all his marriage really was. A life sucking experience. Maybe they were very much like that patient's disease: far beyond reach but still hanging by a thread, holding onto every glimpse of hope to tell themselves they could make it when all signs pointed otherwise.
And yet for some reason that defied logic, just like the Shepherd siblings coming up with a plan and telling themselves they could fix the impossible, he and Cristina were still fooling themselves believing that they could somehow fix their broken marriage.
.
During the years that followed, Owen learned that his initial assumption that the relationship he'd invested so much on was doomed from the start had been right all along.
His marriage had ended and he couldn't blame it only on the fact that Cristina didn't want kids. Truth was, her entire perception about life and what mattered the most was completely different from his. Their priorities were so far opposite that only a fool would insist to keep trying. After setting his head straight and thinking rationally, Owen acknowledge all of that.
But that didn't mean it hurt any less.
And after flying back home from Boston, Owen had realized many things.
Not long before, as he stood outside the shower in which he'd found his ex-wife still fully dressed, he'd tried to comfort her about the patient she'd lost and the remaining two that were still in critical condition. Owen didn't have kids but he desired them more than anything, so he could sympathize with the excruciating pain the McNeils were going through.
He knew his ex-wife liked to keep her emotional distance and never get personally involved with the cases she took, but that time, it was different. It had to be different. Cristina had spent too many hours with that family, she'd been too invested in their cases to react so indifferently to the news.
And yet, when Owen had wrongfully assumed her desperation had been about the McNeil kids, stating that she'd done everything right, Cristina had simply agreed with conviction that she knew she had. Her confident manners in affirming so left no room for doubt. In that moment, he realized that even though she seemed devastated and extremely upset, it had nothing to do with the turn her cases had taken. That could only mean the cause for her affliction had to be the award that had slipped through her fingers.
Overwhelmed by a feeling of icy rejection at her coldness and selfish manners, Owen had stood there and unaffectedly admitted to Cristina what he'd heard from Richard: She was supposed to have won the Harper Avery Award; she had been the one with most votes. Politics had gotten in the way but by merit, she was meant to be the winner. He'd done it to test her, to see how she would react, secretly hoping that she wouldn't place so much value in vanities, opting to reach out for what was concrete instead.
But just like that, the words seemed to heal and torment her as Cristina walked out of that shower without saying another word. And in her action, Owen found another answer.
He had come home that night hating himself for how angry he'd become. In his mind, Owen didn't think he should be surprised, much less disappointed. That's exactly how Cristina was and he knew better than anyone that it was pointless to keep making excuses to justify her lack of empathy and tactfulness. Every day, it became clearer that Cristina's main priority in life was herself, closely followed by her career. Everything else stood a dozen steps back on her list. And for the first time, Owen felt relieved that he hadn't got to have a child with her. After years of spending more time in her presence and watching her actions, it made perfect sense as to why Cristina didn't want to be a mother. She would never be able to selflessly put anyone else above her and her career, not even their own child, and he would spend the rest of his life resenting her for it. He had at least admired how decisive she had been about that.
Even though Owen didn't condemn her thoughts and feelings, he also had a hard time understanding her. Owen just didn't get how a freaking award was more important than the lives of three kids. He couldn't understand why Cristina could only take validation from a stupid trophy rather than helping out a family. It would never make sense to him why publishing a paper was more important than actually sharing the joy of being able to help a patient. And after years of trying to figure that out, he had finally thrown the towel.
He knew Cristina had every right to feel the way she did, but he wondered how in the world he'd come to fool himself saying that that's what he wanted. Truth was, Owen would never stand by any of that. He had spent exhausted years trying to make her into something he wanted and that hadn't been fair of him either. They would never prioritize the same things, there could be no common ground and it wasn't fair to ask if any of them that they gave up their desires and dreams. Owen could never go through life married to Cristina knowing that while he would always put their family first, he would never be as important or as fulfilling to her as her career.
Soon enough, Cristina would be flying off to Zurich and deep down, he was happy about it. Once and for all, it would be over.
Almost automatically, Owen's mind raced with "what if"s and he quickly shoved them aside after reaching out for a beer. He had spent the past few years obsessed with the idea of a woman who was perfect for him. His biggest mistake had been to try to convince himself that Cristina was that woman, when she'd done nothing but repeatedly prove to him that she was actually the complete opposite. And he only had himself to blame for that.
Going outside his trailer, Owen rejoiced in the chilly cold wind that made him feel alive, contrasting with the numbness that seemed to have taken over him for the past weeks.
Across the yard, a bright light shone in the living room of Meredith and Derek's house. Looking over, Owen noticed that none of their cars were parked there and he wondered who could be in the house at that hour. But before he could dwell much on it, he saw Zola running across the living room while a young woman chased after her, clearly entertaing the little girl.
The image of his friends' daughter smiling warmed his heart and Owen felt his chest constricting once again. He wanted a family more than anything, more than all the awards in the world. He wanted not only kids, but a wife he could love without any reservation or second thoughts. Someone who would leave for work in the morning knowing that what mattered the most in life wasn't what you had, but whom you had. A woman who would warm his heart and his bed, who could challenge him to be better, someone he could grow with.
But maybe a failed marriage was all he was ever going to get.
His self-deprecating thoughts were distracted by the scene playing out in front of him. Being busy surgeons, Meredith and Derek often had babysitters over, most of them college students who looked to make some extra money between classes by watching after Zola and Bailey. Every now and then when he came home from work, Owen would distractedly catch a glimpse of some of them, reading their college books after putting the kids to bed or even taking them out to play during the day on weekends.
That particular one must be new, Owen thought. He was pretty sure he had never seen her around before. Through the window, the surgeon watched with attention as the young woman playfully attacked Bailey's belly with kisses. Even though he couldn't hear them, Owen noticed by the pleased expression on the baby's face that the boy was giggling with sheer happiness. And the woman looked just as pleased to have caused it.
At that moment, Owen envied her. That young babysitter would probably live her own experiences, maybe someday even have kids of her own. She looked like she still had an entire life ahead of her, enough time to make mistakes and learn from them. Judging by her easy manners around the children, he imagined it was very likely she would turn out to be an affectionate mother. And whoever got to join her on that parenting adventure would probably be a very lucky man.
Realizing he was one step away from feeling sorry from himself, Owen quickly shook his head and finished his beer with one long gulp. Truth was, he had no idea. He couldn't possibly decide on what would make a complete stranger happy based only on what would make him happy. He'd tried that once and failed miserably.
But the more he told himself to go back inside and stop eagerly watching the woman interact with the kids, the less inclined he felt to do it.
His eyes thoroughly scanned the figure of the unknown babysitter, noticing her ivory skin fiercely contrasting with the dark shorts she had on, so small that they exposed her long, shapely legs, leaving very little for imagination. From a distance, Owen couldn't quite tell the color of her eyes but she had an intoxicating smile and for a second, he felt mesmerized as she happily laughed at something one the kids had said. And as she once again lifted the baby high in her arms to tickle his belly with playful bites, one stretch of skin became visible under her shirt, revealing a slim waist that seemed perfectly designed to accommodate the touch of a man's hands.
When Owen finally realized the direction his thoughts were taking, he quickly forced himself to stop. What the hell was wrong with him?! Lusting after a twenty something innocent college student, who was just doing her job was very much beneath him, or so he'd thought. Disappointed at himself, Owen threw the beer bottle in the trash with violence and immediately served himself with another.
The trauma surgeon knew that a lot of the guys at the hospital had the disgusting habit of preying after young medicine graduates but he had never quite understood the satisfaction in that. Of course he was a man and his body reacted at visions such as the ones he'd just witnessed, but entirely physical experiences had never been his thing. He preferred grown women, especially those who could actually engage in conversations and challenge him rather than unexperienced, fresh off the diapers young girls.
Once again, Owen gazed through the window and this time he saw the barefoot babysitter gently accommodating Bailey on her arms, very close to her breasts. The boy immediately stopped fussing and seemed to calm down. The idea that maybe Owen felt drawn to that girl not only because of her attractive figure but also due to her maternal and affectionate manners popped in his mind and he quickly rejected it.
What was he thinking? He definitely wasn't drunk enough.
Reaching out for the third beer of the night, Owen told himself he had to stop watching that complete stranger but couldn't. As his eyes registered her every graceful move, he slowly emptied the bottle, little by little numbing the pain that ached inside his heart, hoping to avoid all the mourning he had ahead of him. For now, thinking that he might never get what his soul deeply yearned for hurt too much. So it was more convenient to focus on the outside as a distraction.
Making up his mind to drink as many beers as it took to make him forget all about his ex-wife, his broken dreams and their lost promises, Owen studied the lively, smiley young woman who'd put a baby to sleep with absolutely no effort. He kept staring, wondering what kind of life she would have ahead of her. Did she want kids? A career? What kind of fire burned deep inside her, late at night? Had she planned anything at all for herself? But deep down, Owen knew it really didn't matter. One thing he had learned the hard way was that life had its own way of happening and moving on regardless of any plans or careful thinking.
One bottle followed another and before it was ten in the evening, six of them had piled outside the trailer. The lights in the living room were turned off after the babysitter had probably taken the kids to bed. Only then Owen finally convinced himself to go back inside for the night, determined to forget everything about that day.
And as he lay on the bed, almost immediately falling asleep, Owen wondered if one day he would ever get what his heart desired the most, completely oblivious to the fact that the woman he'd just spent the past hour admiring through a window would one day soon turn out to be the love of his life and mother of his children.