This chapter is a lot less upbeat than any of the previous chapters. A few things you might need to know before reading: this does contain spoilers for season five of Private Practice. If you haven't watched, or you don't know the full story behind Amelia's baby, this might not make sense. This is less important, but in case you were wondering, an intracranial teratoma is rare, and makes up about only 1% of brain tumors. It's completely operable, though it does often times block certain functions (eye sight, etc.) for short periods of time. Amelia's POV.

The thing about being a doctor is that, often times, it doesn't really matter what time my shift ends. I'm the chief of neurosurgery, and when there's any kind of medical emergency, surgery, or patient in need, I'm usually right in the center of it.

Maybe some doctors would criticize me for caring too much, for not being able to leave a patient at the end of the day. Hell, med-school me would criticize present-day me. But it's just not who I am anymore. I care about my patients and I love my job, almost to a fault.

So when a seven year old boy was admitted to the hospital with an intracranial teratoma, I knew that today would be a long day.

The resection of the tumor was the easy part. I'm a damn good surgeon, and I knew that I would be able to give Ethan a full life, with relatively normal functioning. It was everything before and after the surgery that was hard. Child cases always stir up something inside me that I can't escape.

We were scheduled to go in at a quarter to five, and it was going to take at least two hours. And I wanted to monitor Ethan, to be there when he woke up, just to test his functioning. I did all of my pre-surgery rituals, and then I went looking for Owen. I felt guilty that I would have to push our date back a few hours, or possibly even cancel, but I knew he would understand. Surgeries on children take an emotional toll on everyone.

"Hey! I just saw the board. Looks like our... date my be a little later than planned?"

The way he was smiling at me my stomach do back-flips. Nobody has ever made me feel this way. I needed to focus, otherwise this conversation was going to take a completely different direction than I intended it to.

"That's actually what I came to talk to you about. I'll probably be wrapping up his surgery at about seven, which is when my shift ends, but..."

"You want to stick around and monitor the kid?"

"I do. He's just a boy, and I don't know, I feel... I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I was out on a date when he was waking up, especially if there was something wrong. And don't get me wrong, our date is-"

"Not as important as this kid is. I get it, Amelia. That's one of the things about you that I find most attractive. You care about your patients, and I care about you. I can wait."

There's just something about Owen that.. Works. He's truly the most amazing guy that I've ever been with, and we haven't even really been together. In the five minutes that we'd spent together today, he had managed to take all of my anxiety, guilt, and sadness away. Is it any wonder that I felt so bad about potentially missing our date?

"Thank you."

He looked around for a second, and then bent down, and he kissed me. Soft and quick, but just what I needed.

"I'll be here."

After that, I went into surgery and I resected the hell out of that teratoma. I was feeling pretty good about myself and definitely more optimistic about the rest of my night until I went out to tell Ethan's mom how it went.

Even though the surgery went perfectly, she still wrapped her arms around me and cried. And I get it. He's a seven year old boy, and anything short of a paper cut is a parent's worst nightmare. But this was brain surgery, and no matter how minor it might have been, it was still brain surgery. Nobody wants their child to have brain surgery.

It took all that I had to not burst into tears in front of his mother. Yes, I care about my patients, but it wasn't about that. It was about the fact that Ethan was a boy, and because I'm incapable of separating my own life from the lives of my patients, and I'm a fucked up mess, all I could think about was my child.

I thought about my child all the time. Every free second that I had, every time I saw a boy on the street, or a baby in NICU, my mind went straight to the day that he was born. To all of the pain and anger that I felt on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life. He was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen, and I was so happy that I got to hold him... But I knew that he couldn't stay.

I walked down hall and into the bathroom, and I let myself breathe for just a few seconds. I couldn't let myself cry because I needed to see Owen, just so that I could cancel our date, and I didn't want him to see me like this.

My phone had a text from him on it, letting me know that he would be in his office, waiting for me. And that I should stop by once the surgery was over. I had to smile at the fact that he was so intent on seeing me, even if there was a slight possibility that our date might be cancelled.

As I walked down to his office, I regained control of my emotions. Or so I thought. But when I walked into his office and saw him sitting there, smiling up at me, with two boxes of Chinese takeout on his desk, I started to cry.

Maybe it was because he was thoughtful enough to order food for the two of us, that he was able to anticipate that I probably wouldn't feel like going out tonight. That, combined with the fact that it's been an incredibly hard day, is enough to make anyone cry. But the fact that I didn't even say anything when I walked into his office, that I just started bawling, is more than a little embarrassing.

The look on his face is one of pure concern, and I'm getting more embarrassed by the second. But I can't stop crying.

"Amelia! What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He all but jumped out of his chair to rush over to me, and then he wrapped his arms around me. Amazing, but that little detail went a long ways towards calming me down.

"Yeah, I just- Dammit. I was just coming in here to tell you that I couldn't go out tonight, that it's just been... A hell of a day. And I didn't expect you to be so sweet, and I just... I'm an idiot."

"No, no, you're not. Let's just sit on the couch and relax for a bit before you go check on Ethan. Are you hungry? Eat, breathe, let it all out. It's okay."

By the time he had maneuvered me to his couch, I was a snotty, tear-stained mess. His shirt was mostly tear-stained, too, but he didn't seem to mind.

While he was grabbing the food from his desk, I made an attempt to wipe my eyes and clean myself up. I wasn't really that hungry, this entire ordeal had made me lose my appetite, but it was sweet that he was so concerned.

As he set the food down in front of us on the coffee table, and situated himself very close to me, I took a few shaky breaths. I couldn't just waltz into his office, start crying, and then pretend that nothing happened. I needed to tell him something, anything. Talking about my past isn't exactly my strong suit, but I care about Owen enough to try and get it right.

"It's just that it was a kid case. A boy case. And my baby... he was a boy. For forty-three minutes he was a boy. And it's so hard for me to other little boys, other parents with their boys, because I don't have that. I never got to have that. I never got to worry about if the bike helmet I bought him was protective enough, or if the elementary school he was at was the 'right fit' for him. And it just... Sucks."

That was more that I had said to anyone, in a long time. And it felt good. It felt good to open myself up to him, to let him see a different side of me.

When I looked up, there was a sadness on his face. Something that I hadn't ever seen on him before. I was waiting for him to say something to me, but what do you say to that?

So he didn't say anything. He kissed my forehead, wiped the tears off my cheek, and put his arm around me. It wasn't until I had my head rested on his shoulder, my breathing had steadied, and I stopped crying, that he said something.

"So we'll wait together. When Ethan wakes up, you preform all the tests you need. And I'll be here. And when you're ready... We'll go back to my house, we'll eat this Chinese food cold, and then we'll sleep in. Okay?"

"Okay."

Maybe it wasn't love yet, but it was very, very close.

Apologies for the dark turn, peeps! But I've always been deeply unsatisfied with how little time was spent on Amelia's grieving post-delivery. This was my attempt at shedding some light on how she might feel daily, though I, obviously, can't be sure. The speech about not being able to worry about her child felt necessary, though. PSA: we're nearing the end of the story.