They were both soaked through by the time Meredith got them inside. Their hair was plastered to their heads, she was chilly and wet beneath the coat, and Owen, dressed only in scrubs which were molded to his body, was clammy and beginning to shiver. After his huge release of emotion, he was numb, leaning heavily on her, and not answering any questions.
"Owen what's wrong?" she asked "what happened? Did someone die? Is it your Mom? Your kids? Teddy?"
But she got no reply, verbal or otherwise, and realized he probably wasn't even truly hearing her. When she got inside she left Owen leaning against the staircase and ran to the kitchen for her phone. She had no messages, not from her sisters or the hospital. Good, that means nobody is dead, she thought. Then what the hell happened to make him like this?
She decided it was no use talking to him now, she would let him shower and sleep and try to figure out in the morning. She came back to find him exactly where she had left him, leaning on the bottom of the staircase, water dripping from his scrubs and body onto the floor. Grasping him gently by the arm she led him up the stairs and into the upstairs bathroom. He followed mechanically, his muscles moving his body but with no indication that he realized he was going somewhere.
Owen's mind spun. It was a vicious whirlwind of thoughts. Iraq. Sand. Screaming soldiers. Surgery. Their synchrony. Germany. Falling snow. Pink blanket. The feel of her body beneath his. Her arms around him. Her hands, running over his body, bringing immense pleasure. Her lips. Her baby bump. The feel of his unborn child, moving at his voice. His baby girl, resting in his arms for the first time. Her hand wrapped around the tip of his thumb. Teddy's hair glowing golden in the morning sun. Teddy holding Leo on her lap. And then. Tom. Tom touching her. Loving her. Tom holding his kids, taking his place in their lives.
The feeling of losing it all. He was losing it all. He wanted Teddy, he wanted his babies, he wanted Megan or his Mom. He wanted to be held, he wanted somebody to tell him it was all going to be okay. That he wasn't going to lose Teddy, he wasn't going to lose his kids, he wasn't going to fall back into PTSD. Just to tell him it was going to be okay.
He felt Meredith take his arm and pull him along but he didn't know where he was, what she was saying or where he was going. He didn't know what was happening at all, because there was no room in his mind to process that.
Meredith left him in the bathroom to go find some of clothes of Derek's or Andrew's that night fit him. She had started the shower and left a towel on the counter and she told him to get undressed and get in. She thought by that time she got back he should be standing under the water with the curtain shut and they would be fine.
This was not the case. When she walked in with a T-shirt and a pair of sweats, he was still standing in the middle of the bathroom fully clothed. There was steam billowing out of the shower, and water on the floor, but he stood with his chin on his chest and his muscles quivering, body shuddering with cold.
When she walked up behind him and set the clothes on the counter he didn't even notice. She lifted his chin, forcing his anguished eyes to meet hers. The skin of his cheek was alarmingly cold and she knew she needed to warm him up. She placed her hand in his chest and felt his heart hammering inside his rib cage. He made no objection when she pulled his scrub top out of his scrub bottoms and began to pull it over his head. Somehow she doubted he'd remember much of this come morning. Awkwardly she reached for the drawstring that closed his scrub pants, and told herself, it's just like bathing a child, it's just like tubbing my kids. Gathering courage she pulled both his pants and boxers down at the same time. When he was naked she took his hands and led him beneath the shower. He stepped obediently over the edge of the tub and flinched when the hot water met his pale skin the first time, but soon stood motionless while she scrubbed him. She was quick about it, soaping his body and letting the water wash it away. She didn't have men's shampoo so she used some wanna be stuff that Bailey liked. When he was clean and the chill seemed to have left his bones she turned off the water and gently pulled him out again. He didn't seem to notice as she dried him off and helped him into clothes again. She didn't have boxers for him other than the ones he was wearing which were soaking wet so she just skipped it. She knew he was in no state to be turned on anyway. When she tapped the edge of his calves he lifted his feet obediently and stepped into the sweatpants. When he was clothed again, she quickly dried his hair with the towel and led him to her room.
I better make him sleep here tonight, she thought, that way if he has nightmares again, I can wake him up before he hurts someone. Also that way she could keep him locked away upstairs until her kids were gone in the morning. She didn't have to work tomorrow so she had planned on having a very restful night and cleaning the house and doing laundry the next day. It wasn't proving to be peaceful so far though.
With a hand on Owen's back she led him to the far side of her bed and turned back the covers. She spun him around and pushed until he sat down. When she placed a hand on his chest he seemed to catch up and lifted his feet to tuck then under the covers. She pulled the covers to his chin and said,
"Sleep, Owen, I'll be back soon to check on you"
She got no reply to that either.
So she trudged downstairs to throw his clothes in the dryer and find a bottle of water. Placing the water bottle beside Owen's head next to the bed she grabbed a set of her own pajamas and headed for a shower of her own.
When she came back 20 minutes later, Owen's eyes were shut and the moonlight coming in the window illuminated silver lines on his cheeks where fresh tears ran. She was beginning to be amazed at the tear production capability of his body, she wasn't sure she had ever seen a grown man cry so much.
For a minute she wasn't sure if it was appropriate to get into bed next to him and then she realized she was being dumb. Whatever had happened, it had turned Owen into the equivalent of a little child. The thought of relationships and appearances had not entered his mind for a second and he was in no position to do anything sexual. He just needed comfort. Meredith wasn't like that, she was good at being alone so she didn't really understand, but she recognized it for what it was. Owen couldn't be alone right now so he had subconsciously sought out someone he trusted.
Sighing she pulled back the covers on her side and crawled in. Once she was comfortable she dug around under the covers until she found his hand. She felt it grasp tight around her own.
Owen's thoughts were slowly dwindling. He was exhausted by a full day of work and the emotional turmoil of the night. When he felt Mer's hand grab his, he latched onto it like a lifeline. Someone was here, someone cared and he wasn't alone. Slowly he rolled his body until his head rested on her shoulder, never letting go of her hand. As her other hand came up to run through his hair and rub his back he finally felt his pulse and breathing slow and he gave into his exhaustion and slept.