Owen and Callie arrived at the hospital entrance simultaneously the next morning, an awkward circumstance but one that Owen took advantage of nonetheless. "Um, Dr. Torres… Callie… can I have a word with you?"

She looked at him uncertainly, but finally shrugged, "Sure."

"Let's go somewhere relatively private if you don't mind…" He ushered her toward one of the on-call rooms and peeked inside. "This'll do." Callie followed him in, a little apprehensive but not truly scared. Even after what had happened, she didn't think he was an inherently dangerous man.

"Have a seat," he gestured to one of the beds, and he sat down on the one opposite. "How is she?"

Callie thought about how much to reveal, and decided to say as little as possible. "Ok. She's ok."

Owen nodded. He had a feeling there was more to the story, but he could tell she wasn't going to say anything else right now. He ran his hands over his face, as if unsure how to begin, but finally the words started tumbling out. "I wanted to apologize to you… for what you saw… for what you had to get in the middle of… and also to thank you for coming in like that. I...we both... owe you a lot. I think if you'd been a little bit later, Cristina and I would both be dead right now…" Callie looked at him quizzically, and he continued, "… because I would have killed myself if I'd killed Cristina… I… I felt like doing it just for hurting her."

Callie eyes widened but she said nothing, and Owen continued.

"I hope you believe me when I say that I'd never hurt her… ever…" He paused and took a breath, "I was asleep. I can't remember any of it. I… I realize now I have a problem with… god, I can barely even say the words… PTSD. It's PTSD… And I'm getting help for it now, after what happened. I already started the process last night."

She could tell he was sincere, and her previous impression of him began to square with the events as she gained clarity. Callie continued to look at him, considering. He fidgeted and then continued. "I… I don't know what else to say. I don't really expect you to forgive me, because I can't even forgive myself. I just wanted you to hear me out."

There was silence for a moment, and then Callie finally spoke. "Thanks for telling me. It helps. And I like you Owen, I really do. I feel badly for what you're going through… so I hope you understand when I tell you that for me, right now, this is not about you. It's about her. And she's actually not ok. She's not ok at all. In fact, she woke up screaming her head off last night…"

Owen groaned and covered his face with his hands at this information. Oh, god. Now she's having nightmares. I did this to her. I did this.

Undaunted, Callie pressed on. It was important that he get the full picture, so that they could be on the same page about what needed to be done. "It was so bad, I thought she was being murdered in the next room… It almost gave me a heart attack… and when I ran in to check, she was sitting in bed, shaking like a leaf, and insisting she was fine. I think she was really traumatized by this whole thing, even though she won't admit it, and I hope you'll wait until you're much better before trying to be with her again, because she's damaged now too, Owen. And you did this, even if you didn't mean to."

He looked up and nodded at her, his eyes red with emotion. "I know. I wish I could take it back. I wish I'd gotten help before this happened…"

"Yeah, me too… but there's nothing you can do about that now. And it sounds like you're finally doing what you need to do, which is good… Does she know? About you getting help, I mean?"

"Not yet. I was going to tell her today. But now… I'm not sure if I should just stay away from her after what you just told me. I don't want to make things worse."

Callie thought about it for a minute. "Before we had this talk, I would have said yes, but now I don't think so. I think she'd want to know. It might help her, if she knew you were on the right path."

"Ok," he nodded, "Ok. I think she's on my service today anyhow, so we're likely to run into each other. I'll see how she is, play it by ear."

"Um…" Callie rose, "I have to go. We're both late."

"Just one more thing..." Owen followed her lead and got up too, "I just need a second. I feel awkward asking this, but... how many people know about what happened? Is it all over the hospital? Because I don't know if I can continue to work here if it is..."

Callie thought for a minute. "Well, unless you've told anyone, the only ones who know about it are you, me, Meredith... and Cristina of course. I don't think any of us are looking to spread this around, if that's what you're asking."

"And Derek," Owen added. "Derek knows. I went to him... and yes, that's what I was asking. Are you willing to try and keep this from hitting the hospital grapevine? I think I can handle it if it doesn't go any further." Owen had the distinct impression that he'd just asked the cat to guard the cream, but he had to start somewhere.

"Of course. I won't say anything, and I'll tell Mer to do the same. Just focus on what you have to do, and don't worry about it, ok?"

Owen went to open the door for her. "Thank you."

Callie gave him a small smile of acknowledgment and walked out.

-------

After she left, Owen closed the door and locked it, needing a moment to himself before he faced his workday. He was nearly overwhelmed with sadness and frustration over what he had just learned. Cristina was having nightmares. He knew all too well what that looked like, and all he could think of was that he wanted to be there when they happened, hold her in his arms, kiss her awake, and make it all better. And that was probably the last thing he could do for her right now. He shook his head in amazement. They were so much alike. He knew in his gut that even though she was hurting, she would try to tough it out, and looking at this situation from the outside he finally understood how it must feel to watch someone refuse help when they really needed it. Cristina had asked him to go see someone a couple of months ago. If only he had, this might all have been avoided, but he had been too invested in the military mindset to admit he had a problem. When he looked at himself from this perspective, all he saw was arrogance. He could try to excuse it by calling it something else, but in the end he had fucked things up because he was too proud to ask for help. That was not going to happen to her. The least he could do was learn from his own experience and do everything in his power to make sure she got what she needed.

It was going to be a big day. He had an appointment at the sleep clinic over his lunch hour, and Dr. Wyatt's card was in his pocket. He would have that appointment scheduled too, before the day was out. Funny how, after resisting it for so long, he was impatient to get started.