In the Other
Cristina found a bathroom on the first floor of the house. She locked the door and then leaned against it for a moment, before she looked in the mirror. Her face was older and her hair was shorter, but she could recognize Cristina Yang. Steeling herself, she lifted up the strange t-shirt that she was wearing and looked at her reflection. She had stretch marks on her belly and breasts, and a C-section scar.
The room wobbled a bit. She looked again. Her body was a bit fuller, more rounded, as the result of having children. She was definitely still hot.
"What the hell happened?" Cristina asked her reflection. "Is this the future?"
In the Now
Stoic, Cristina allowed herself to be guided back into the strange bed. Her mother brought her the breakfast tray, while Owen made some phone calls. Mechanically, she ate and tried to figure out this strange new reality.
In the Other
Wondering what to do, Cristina went into the living room. The young girls came thundering down the stairs, dressed in school uniforms and carrying backpacks.
"Bye Mom!" The taller one kissed her on the cheek before following the red-haired one out the front door. Cristina stood at the window and watched them board a school bus.
Cristina checked on the little boy, who was still feeding himself. She found a briefcase that looked like it could be hers. She pulled out a phone and checked the date – she was definitely in the future. On a very freaky Friday.
Next, she looked at her calendar - she was scheduled to work later. Without hesitation, she texted Owen. "Not feeling well, I'm going to stay home today."
Curiously, she looked around. It was a nice house. She went upstairs and investigated the bedrooms. One bedroom was very neat and tidy, and was decorated with an alarming amount of pink. "I have a daughter that likes pink?" She shook her head and looked into the next bedroom. It was a complete maelstrom of clothes and toys, a mess that she could relate to.
She frowned. How had Owen ever persuaded her to have a child after the abortion? Let alone three? Hearing the little boy calling, she walked downstairs. She checked his diaper before putting him back into the playpen. He sat down to play with some toys.
Cristina wandered around the first floor. She found two home offices. The disorganized one had to be hers. She looked at a plaque on the wall – the Harper Avery award. So she was still a surgeon – and an awesome one.
She looked around at some of the other awards and deduced that she hadn't gone to Mayo after all. Cristina felt a pang inside at that realization. Lost in thought, she moved on to the next room.
She hit paydirt in Owen's office. He'd framed someone's school project, a family tree entitled "My Family". She looked at the children's names and birth dates. Chloe. Mallory. Diego. The last also had an adoption date.
"I knew it," she said aloud. "That kid doesn't look like either of us."
She looked at some of the other names and dates and her blood went cold. Her mother was dead.
In the Now
Owen helped Cristina settle herself on the couch, carefully adjusting her pillows. She looked around with some interest. It was a gorgeous space, although the fire pole would be impractical with children around. A lump rose in her throat as she thought of her missing family. Why was she here? How could she get back home?
"Do you want your medication now?" Owen asked.
"Yes." She rubbed her shoulder, which was really aching. Her mother brought her a warm pack and then Owen brought her a pill with a glass of water.
"I'm, um, going into work to check on matters," he said. "Make sure Bailey and Richard are on top of everything."
"Okay," she said softly. She wondered again at the distance between them. What was the other Cristina like?
Helen moved into her field of vision. "Do you need anything?"
Cristina tentatively smiled. It felt good to see her mother again, even under the strangest of circumstances. "Why don't you make us some tea? We can sit and talk."
Her mother was surprised but pleased. "I'd like that."
In the Other
Cristina wandered back into the living room. She examined the bookshelves and spotted a digital photo frame. She turned it on and watched scenes from another life. There she was, dressed in a cream suit and visibly pregnant, standing next to Owen who was wearing his uniform. She frowned. Did they renew their vows?
The pictures weren't in chronological order. The children appeared and reappeared at different stages. She gasped. There was a picture of Derek and Meredith, with two children. A black-haired boy and a blonde girl. Where was Zola?
She recognized some of the photos, like the one of her sitting on Owen's lap. That was the photo by their bed in the firehouse. Another picture appeared – Cristina was holding a baby that must be Chloe. She was at a birthday party. Standing next to her was Lexie, smiling widely and hugely pregnant.
Lexie. Shakily, Cristina sat down. In her reality, Lexie had just died in a plane crash. She knew then that this wasn't her future, but another Cristina's.
"What the hell?" Cristina muttered. "Why am I here?"
In the Now
"Here's your tea." Helen handed her a cup, before sitting down across from her. "This is nice, the two of us together."
Cristina couldn't stop looking at her. She'd gained much insight into her own childhood by becoming a mother herself. So many times, she'd wanted to tell Helen how wonderful Chloe was. She'd wanted her mother to know who Mallory and Diego were. But she couldn't tell this Helen any of that, because this wasn't really her mother. She belonged to another Cristina and she didn't have any grandchildren.
"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Helen asked quizzically.
Cristina coughed. "It's ... been a while since I saw you. What's new in Los Angeles?"
"Oh, the usual," Helen said. "Condo board elections, we're thinking of an Alaskan cruise. My life is boring."
"No it isn't," her daughter blurted out. "Tell me. I want to know everything that's going on with you."
Surprised, Helen smiled. "We're going to redecorate the guest bedroom but we can't agree on colors. Do ... you want to look at fabric swatches?"
"I'd love to." To her surprise, Cristina meant it.
In the Other
Sighing heavily, Cristina finished changing Diego's diaper. "I've changed Zola, so I thought this would be easy," she told him. "Only Zola doesn't have a built-in fountain like you do. Next time, don't pee all over me."
Curiously, she examined the scar on his chest. What kind of surgery had been performed? He grinned at her and kicked his feet.
She picked Diego up and he snuggled against her. Dutifully, she sat down and rocked with him, until his eyes started to droop. She laid him down in his crib, then wandered downstairs.
She stood in front of the digital photo frame again, watching the strange photos and trying to determine what had happened. Meredith's daughter appeared to be best friends with Chloe. Owen's mother and Saul were both alive, and active in their life. The girls were in martial arts class. Mallory was into ballet while her sister played soccer. So many of her friends had children – she wondered which ones would appear in her own timeline. She recognized Sofia, but not her little brother.
The pictures of Owen and ... the other Cristina ... fascinated her. It'd been so long since she'd seen her husband relaxed and casual. She barely recognized ... the other Cristina. She was laughing and playing with her children and was she really ... camping?
The most poignant pictures were the ones where Owen and Cristina stood side by side, arms around each other or holding hands. They were a team, unlike the shattered marriage she'd somehow left behind.
In the Now
After tea and swatches, Helen left Cristina alone so that she could start lunch. Cristina grabbed a laptop and hoped it was hers. When prompted for a password, she entered her father's birth date. She sighed with relief when it worked – some things were the same.
Quickly she skimmed through her emails – people wishing her recovery after the accident, emails from people at the Mayo Clinic about a move? She pulled up a browser and started Googling. It didn't take her long to find details of the crash. She read a few news stories then closed the browser.
Tentatively, she started poking around the emails and folders in the laptop. This Cristina had just passed her Boards ... and was planning on going to the Mayo Clinic. She checked the notes that had been left behind. Stunned, she realized that this other Cristina ... was moving to Minnesota on her own. Without Owen.
In the Other
Overwhelmed, Cristina laid down on the couch. Who could she speak with?
"Izzie!" She snapped her fingers and sat up. "If anyone knows about dead people not being dead, it's her." She grabbed her phone and checked her contacts – no Izzie.
There was a notification. Owen had replied to her text, "Okay, I'll let Derek know and notify daycare".
She found a laptop computer that accepted her password. Quickly, she checked different social networking sites and couldn't find Izzie there either.
Lips pressed firmly together, she Googled Izzie's name. When the obituary appeared, she read it briefly. Then she looked up her mother's. Reflective, she sat back and processed what she'd found. It was surprisingly devastating, to read of her mother's death. Considering how much work she put into avoiding her mother in her own life.
She looked at her phone. And then read Owen's text again. "Okay, I'll let Derek know ..." Why would Derek need to know she was taking a sick day?
Cristina picked up the laptop again. This time she Googled Owen. He was the Head of Trauma of Seattle Grace. So there'd been no merger. And Derek was the Chief of Surgery.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard. George was still dead. The shootings had happened. And the sinkhole. And the bomb in that guy and the ferry accident and many of the other disasters that Seattle seemed to attract on an annual basis. But the conjoined twins had died after birth so there hadn't been a plane to Boise.
The phone rang, and Meredith's name appeared on the screen. Quickly, she answered. "Hi Meredith."
"I need to keep this brief," her friend said, tersely. "I'm going to cancel our plans for this weekend."
"Um, okay," Cristina replied, frowning.
Meredith sighed. "I've had another ... loss. I'm sorry ... but I can't be around babies right now. I know Diego isn't a little baby anymore but ... I can't."
"I'm sorry," Cristina said, tucking her hair behind her ears. "... Take care of yourself."
"I'll try. Bye." Meredith ended the call.
Her mind whirling, Cristina started to walk around the house again. Diego yelled out for his mother as she walked by his room. She smiled a little as she picked him up and held him. He stuck a thumb in his mouth.
"You're cute," Cristina told him. "But you're not making me miraculously want a child of my own, if that's the reason I'm here."
He blinked at her.
"Auntie Meredith doesn't want to see you. Don't take it personally. And don't take it personally that you're not making me want to be a mom. I like other people's children, like Zola ..."
The room tilted a little bit, as Cristina had a flashback. She was holding Zola, at the disastrous birthday party. Owen entered the house, looking angry. When he saw the two of them, his face had darkened further, and he quickly walked away.
"Does ... does it hurt Owen to see me with Zola?" Cristina felt like she'd been slapped.
"Oh shit." She looked at the boy in her arms. "Forget I said that word. Don't repeat it."
He blinked at her again.
"I think you and I should go for a drive," she decided. "Because I'm not going to sit around and babysit."
In the Now
Tired, Cristina laid down for a nap. She hoped that when she woke up, everything would be back to normal. But she didn't get her wish. Meredith woke her up, when she walked into the bedroom carrying an adorable baby that definitely wasn't Robbie or JoJo.
"Here's Auntie Cristina!" Meredith placed the child on the bed. "Give her a kiss!"
Cristina smiled as the girl bussed her on the cheek. She looked at her friend – limping, no doubt from the accident. She almost offered condolences on Lexie's death, before remembering that the other Cristina had been in the same crash.
"So how are things?" Meredith handed a toy to her daughter.
"Um. Okay." Cristina nibbled on her bottom lip. How could she explain what was really happening? How could she ask Meredith what was going on with Owen?
"Have you made a decision about Mayo yet?"
Oh crap. Cristina sighed. "I ... have a lot to consider."
"I'll bet." Her friend frowned. "Well, you know my opinion."
"Uh huh." Nervously, Cristina turned her attention to the little girl. "Oh ... look at ... how big she's getting! How many teeth does she have now?"
Meredith raised her eyebrows. "Since when do you care?"
"Just curious." She looked at the child again. Was she adopted? If not, who could possibly be her father? Jackson? Richard? Burke?
"Are you okay?"
Cristina smiled weakly. "I'm ... not feeling like myself today."
"She really needs to take it easy," Helen said, entering the room with a tea service. "When she woke up, she thought I'd been dead. Then she passed out in the bathroom."
"Oh! I guess we shouldn't stay long then." Meredith accepted a cup of tea.
"And what would your daughter like to drink?" Helen gestured to the child.
"Zola would like some milk – I'll get a sippy cup from her bag." Meredith put down her cup and left the room with Helen.
"Zola, huh?" Cristina's heart sank, looking at the little girl – she remembered when her children were this age. The children that she was desperately missing.
Zola grinned and crawled into her lap. "Why hello, sweetie." Cristina stroked the child's face.
She became aware of someone in the doorway. Owen was standing there, his face stormy as he watched them.
In the Other
"Seattle drivers still suck," Cristina muttered, as she drove along. She checked on Diego in the rearview mirror – he was secure in his carseat and enjoying the ride.
Apprehensively, she slowly turned onto a familiar street, and parked in front of the firehouse. Her eyes took in the broken windows, the graffiti on the walls. The place looked even worse than when she'd bought it for her Owen.
Cristina leaned against the steering wheel and began to sob. Her marriage was a wreck, her husband had cheated on her, but she wanted to be back in her own home. Instead she was sitting in a freaking minivan with a child that wasn't hers. Everything around her was just wrong.
In the Now
Owen abruptly left the room as Helen and Meredith returned. Cristina tried to keep up with their chatter, but her attention was on the doorway – what had made Owen so angry?
When Zola got fussy, Meredith decided it was time to leave. She leaned over and gently hugged Cristina. "It will be all right," Meredith whispered. "You don't have to stay with him if you don't want to. You'll always have a room in my house."
Confused, Cristina could only wave as Meredith carried her daughter out. Helen picked up the empty tea cups. "If you're okay, I'd like to go for a walk and get some fresh air," her mother said. "Owen is here if you need anything."
"Uh huh." Cristina waited until she heard Helen go downstairs. Slowly, she slid out of the bed and went into the living room. Owen was grimacing at his laptop.
She sat down across from him and wondered what to do next. If this were her Owen, she'd simply ask what was wrong. Their relationship wasn't perfect, but after years of marriage and parenthood, they'd learned how to be more open and honest with each other. She hardly knew this sad man in front of her.
She couldn't bear the silence. "What's wrong?" Cristina asked. "What did I do?"
"Not now," he said. "You're not having a good day. You need to rest."
"You're upset," she retorted. "I don't like seeing you this way."
Owen looked up at her then, surprise softening his features. "I don't want to start a fight," he carefully said. "This isn't the time."
"Then when?"
"I don't know," he quietly confessed. "We have to talk before ... before you decide to go to Mayo and leave me all over again."
Silently, she listened.
"I want you to stay," Owen said gruffly. "You are the only woman I'll ever love. I ... want us to work on our problems. I know you want to walk away because … I cheated on you ... that will never happen again."
Shocked, Cristina sat back.
"We can't pretend it didn't happen," he said, sadly. "We can't pretend that everything in the last year didn't happen."
She stood up, overwhelmed. This wasn't her marriage, she didn't have all the facts, she couldn't get involved. She had to leave the room, get away from this mess. But where?
"You're right," Cristina said, shakily. "Now isn't the time."
"I'm sorry." He stood up to face her. "What do you need? Your pills? A hot pack?"
"A warm bath," she replied, not looking at him. "I think ... that's what I need."
To be continued...