Better late than never, uh?

Amelia woke up after what felt an eternity. The disorientation that fogged her brain for a few seconds upon waking was proof enough that she was tired, completely worn out. Rubbing sleep from her eyes she sat up, wincing as her back screamed after laying for who knows how long on the bed in the on call room. The mattresses were all used and abused and there was a hollow in the middle dug by the hundreds of people that had slept there before. Fishing her phone out of her pocket she realised it was way later than she'd expected, she'd decided to rest her eyes for what couldn't be more than a handful of minutes, but apparently she'd slept for over two hours. Silently cursing Arizona, she shook sleep from her body. Her shift had ended hours and hours ago and she'd planned to head home, put on comfy clothes and wallow in self-pity in her room until her nausea would eventually give up and let her fall asleep. That was the plan, however, literally minutes before she crossed the hospital doors, Arizona had found her and asked her to wait a few minutes because she had something to tell her and, as if on cue, she was paged for an emergency and Amelia had reluctantly agreed to wait for her. She was tired, so tired, she didn't remember ever being this tired when she'd been pregnant before, growing Owen's baby was a full time job all on its own. Arizona had said it was momentary, her body was growing a baby, but also the placenta and it would soon be done with that and she'd feel a lot better then. She paged Arizona, but she was in surgery, which meant she was going home right this minute, it was late and it would be a while before she'd actually be home so whatever it was she was going to tell her could wait until tomorrow.

Collecting herself, she stood. The mere action sent the room spinning and Amelia closed her eyes, squeezed them shut waiting for the world around her to slow down a little bit. The air coming through her nose, slowly and rhythmically seemed to quiet down her vertigo and the hint of nausea that she knew would come soon enough. Even more reason to head straight home right now. She smoothed her hair down, not really caring how that would turn out, and she fixed her clothes a little, sleeping in her jeans had been strangely uncomfortable – they felt way too tight. Amelia left the on call room and made a beeline for the door ignoring how every single person seemed to be staring at her. It's just paranoia, she'd told herself, they're not actually staring, and after all most of the men stared all the time anyways. She could see the door when she got Arizona's page. Your office in five minutes. Groaning she waited a while before answering, trying to decide whether to tell her she was going home and they could talk tomorrow or walking all the way back to the other side of the hospital. Amelia glanced at the clock and tried to work some fast math to figure out what time it was for Owen. As far as he'd told her he should have just arrived in Iraq, which meant he was several hours ahead, which meant he would call her as soon as he got a chance, probably first thing in the morning – his morning.

"Have a safe flight and text me when you land, okay?"

"Only if you promise to get some sleep as soon as I hung up."

An uneasy feeling settled into her stomach when, after obsessively checking all text and messages and emails and missed calls, she realised he never even tried to contact her after last night. If her calculations weren't wrong – and she was positive they weren't – he should have landed in Baghdad at least four hours ago. Four. As her brain started processing all the possible scenarios that could in some way explain that, from a dead phone to a plane crash, her eyes watered and she felt betrayed by her own body. She shouldn't worry, stress, it wasn't good for the baby. Subconsciously the hand that wasn't holding the phone flew up to the little curve below her belly button. She was an idiot. She'd basically made him go when he wanted to stay. When a sob died in her throat she looked at Arizona's text again and realised that it had been almost five minutes and, without a second thought, she made her way to her office. The rational part of her, the doctor and the relentless force of nature that kept her going was reassuring her, it was fine, maybe he just forgot. Owen had been travelling for days, he was probably beyond exhausted and figured it would be okay if he just called in the morning. All the hormones in her body, though, were slowly convincing her something terrible had happened, which – the last of her sanity concluded – called for an outside opinion and since Arizona was her only friend here she might as well hear what she had to tell her.

Keeping her emotions in check she made her way to the elevator and focused on her breathing. She could cry. She could have a meltdown over what could be nothing, as much as it could be just another name on the list of people in her life that just seemed to drop like leaves on trees. Amelia was smart enough not to deny herself the possibility to freak out over nothing. This was the least nothing of all the nothings in her life she was freaking out about. Still, she wouldn't cry in front of the whole hospital. Adept at bottling up her emotions and hiding behind a mask she managed to get behind the closed door of what was a glorified lab and sat on her sofa, before letting out a shaky breath, feeling everything sinking in. Arizona barged into the room just a couple of minutes later, with an excited smile that just unnerved Amelia beyond what she could handle so late at night.

"Hey, what's with the long face?" she asked chirpily, walking until she was standing right in front of her.

Amelia looked up at her, a little at loss of what to say. She had yet to decide whether her concern was valid or just the result of the overdose of hormones she was experiencing, coupled with stress and exhaustion, which weren't certainly helping her focus. "Owen didn't text me. Or call me. He, uh," she cleared her throat feeling a little silly hearing her own words. "He promised he'd let me known when he landed, but I never heard from him. Should I," she looked up, noticing the change in Arizona's expression, but not wasting a single moment to analyse it enough to know what it meant. "Should I be worried?"

Arizona's weight shifted on her feet and Amelia knew right away something wasn't right. She knew people here were very sensitive to plane crashes, Arizona and Owen in particular, but it didn't look like that. The way she shifted, almost unnoticeable, with her arms crossed over her chest was telling a whole different story. Her eyebrows were higher and her mouth opened and closed a few times, without emitting a sound, as if silently rehearsing. What worried Amelia was that she appeared completely unaffected by what she'd just said. Not even a smidge of sympathetic worry or even a failed attempt to placate her hormone induced paranoia.

"Arizona?"

"Robbins." As Owen heard her voice through the phone he froze. His brain shut down all functions above tracking the rain drops falling along uneven trails on the outside of the giant glass windows outside. It was a sucky day to be in sunny Philadelphia. "Hello? Hunt?"

Owen took his phone away from his ear startled. He'd effectively zoned out. "Oh, hi." There was a pause. He could hear voices in the background and tools clinking together and he could hear Karev saying something he couldn't make out clearly. The chicken in him was trying to convince him to make some half assed apology and end the call, assuring her it was nothing – must have butt dialled. "Is this a bad time?"

"No. I'm done here. What's up? Everything okay?"

She spoke so fast his head was spinning. Although, maybe, it was his head that was too slow at processing and not the other way around. "Fine. I actually need to talk to you for a second. Or I could call back if you're busy now, it's no problem."

Chicken. Owen head slapped himself – mentally, he was still sitting in an airport waiting lounge surrounded by hundreds of people. He was running, his primal instinct was to run and he was fighting it, barely, but it was enough for now. Somehow, he was convinced he wouldn't need to fight anything the second he was back in Seattle, so, really, he just had to make it there.

"Oh no. Absolutely not. Reception in the desert must be bad enough. Shoot."

Sure reception is bad in the desert, when you manage to find a spot where there is any at all, but it works just fine at the airport in Philly, there's even free wifi. "That's kind of the point. I'm not in the desert. I'm on my way back to Seattle."

There was another pause, one where he thought he could hear Arizona frowning. Ridiculous, right? Right. Yet, Owen could picture what was happening on the other end of the phone with almost complete certainty. He'd heard her stepping away from the ER, he'd heard a door closing behind her and he was pretty sure she was now either in an empty on call room or the attending's lounge or somewhere she was alone.

"What do you mean you're coming back? As in you're not going to Iraq? Has something happened? What about April? Does Amelia know-"

"Arizona." He cut her off. "April's fine, but I couldn't go." He sighed. Owen knew he shouldd have never left in the first place, no matter how much Amelia insisted. He was a freaking grown up, more than able to make his own decisions and stick to them. This, though, was the ultimate proof that he really couldn't. This woman had a power on him not even Cristina ever had. She could make him do things. Things he didn't want to do. Act against his will. Deep down he knew he was still not over the high of finding out he was finally going to be a father and that had abundantly clouded his judgement, but it wasn't all that. "I'm not going. It just felt wrong."

"Oh." Never had he been the fidgety kind, but he could not make out what was behind that sound and it was driving him crazy. It was driving him even crazier realising she knew something he didn't, because that 'oh' meant something specific and he couldn't figure out what. "Okay. Wait, why?"

That was exactly the reason why he'd called her, so that he wouldn't have to explain why. Earlier that morning, which was in fact more than ten hours before, Owen had poured his heart out to April and he was still paying the consequences. It was still plaguing him, the guilt, Owen was well aware there was no way he should be feeling guilty, yet logic wasn't doing much for him today. "Well, because Amelia is pregnant with my baby and I should be with her and not some thousands miles away. I should have never left."

Owen had his eyes closed, squeezed tightly, anticipating any kind of reaction, but he only heard breathing on the other side. "Arizona, you still there?"

"Does she know?"

"Err, no. That's kind of why I'm calling." He sat back, leaning against the uncomfortable seat. His back was starting to ache a little and a walk might be good for that before he was trapped on another plane for hours. While it sounded nice, his legs couldn't move. "I don't want her to know. Not until I'm there."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

Owen grimaced. "I hadn't got that far when I called. It was kind of a heat in the moment sort of decision."

"And a good one at that."

His train of thoughts derailed momentarily. Swayed, more like. This was why he'd called Arizona. His genetic code and his upbringing and his army training implicitly forbid him to ask questions about that. Not when he felt like he was invading Amelia's privacy for even uttering a word about what was supposed to be between the two of them only. "Really? You don't think it's selfish?"

"Well, yeah." Her tone was bright, if a bit condescending. Yet Owen couldn't help but pick up on a slightly off note to what she'd said. She meant what she'd said, but there was a little part of her that was mad at him and he was positive it wasn't for leaving Amelia. "Owen. Five years ago I might have kicked your ass about turning your back on something like that, my brother died down there because there weren't enough doctors. Now? Now I have a daughter. I know what it's like to have my own family and to lose it, and I have become selfish. Sofia comes before anything and anyone in the world. So I think your decision to come back does make you selfish, but it also makes you a parent."

Owen cleared his throat. At some point, while he was listening, he'd felt an hitch in the back of his throat and his eyes had grown swollen and teary. "Here's hoping Amelia sees it like that as well."

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you."

His eyebrows arched and his heart started beating against his ribcage so hard it almost hurt. Arizona definitely knew something he didn't. She had to because he couldn't follow. "I was sure she'd bite my head off, that's why I'm calling you and not her."

"Oh, yeah. She's gonna be mad." Here goes hoping. Owen was so happy about going back home to Seattle, the idea of having to seat in an enclosed space for a number of hours sounded like torture. Torture that didn't in any way compare to what could be Amelia Shepherd's wrath. "But she's more mad at herself right now, so you're probably in the clear. Don't tell her I told you that."

That was a relief. Sort of. Without wasting anymore time and effort in things that were so completely out of his control right now, Owen moved to his game plan. "I need a favour." Before Arizona had any time to answer, he let his train of thoughts barrel through. "I know Amelia's shift ends at nine. I'm landing at SeaTac half an hour later. If you could keep her in the hospital until I get there it would be great."

"How am I supposed to do that? Owen I can't exactly tie her to a chair. Plus, she needs rest, as her doctor – at least for now – I don't know if this is such a good idea. Besides don't you live, like, two minutes away from her?"

Owen groaned. There had been a moment, about a minute ago, where he'd thought it was all going too well. Now it sounded about fine. Normal. "Please." A sigh escaped his lips as his head fell into his hands. "I… I want to make things right with her, whatever that means. If I meet her at the house she'll feel ambushed and trapped and I don't want her to feel like that, I don't want to scare her. If I meet her at the hospital, she has the house to run to in case she needs to. I can call you as soon as I land and then she gets to sleep as long as she wants, promise. Please."

Pouring his heart out to her didn't feel all that bad after all. To be fair, it felt pretty damn good. The thin layer of cold sweat forming on his brown – from the lack of answer from her – was, though, making it hard to slow down his heart rate, which was so fast he felt woozy. "Arizona?"

"Okay. Okay, but only because that was one of the sweetest, most romantic things I've ever heard."

Amelia stood and took a step toward her blond friend, who was still looking straight at her, the corners of her lips twitching. While her worry had eased she was now taking a closer look to Arizona, cataloguing her body language. Not only she hadn't batted an eye at the notion that something could have happened to Owen – even though Amelia herself knew it was a worst case scenario sort of possibility – she looked… guilty. Like she was hiding something. "Arizona?"

She smiled, a smile that was meant to reassure her, but that made Amelia grow more irritated and slightly curious the longer she looked at it. "Well, the thing is-" her pager vibrated and she took it out, reading briefly. Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breath and she looked back at Amelia with a new genuine smile. Amelia was staring back at her, not daring to ask, but all the same her growing frustration was enough not to need words. Arizona gave her a pointed look and her smile broadened even further, if possible. "Wait here." At Amelia's frown she quickly added. "Just a minute. Trust me."

And she left. Amelia stared at the door dumfounded. She'd had a nap at the hospital and she'd waited for Arizona, who seemed like she had something to tell her and then Arizona left. She was too tired and vaguely nauseous to try and make sense of this. Her back was starting to ache and all she wanted was to lie down on this sofa and wake up in the morning, with the extra hour of sleep that she usually took to shower and get to the hospital from the middle of the woods. Given her slower reaction time it was entirely possible minutes had passed since Arizona had hurriedly ran out, but after a little Amelia stood – shakily at first, she was still not used to the dizziness that followed – and made her way out of her office. Locking the door she used the last of her brain activity to throw the keys into her bag. When her eyes scanned across the hall, at the elevator, her brain was already digging up the map to drive home, she saw him. Owen. He was right there walking towards her.

Stupid hormones, she thought. Even hallucinations. Narrowing her eyes, though, she noticed him walking closer, smiling at her as soon as he had found her standing there, rooted to the spot. Amelia frowned, desperately trying to make sense of it, even when her neurological system refused to work. It happened so fast, in a matter of seconds he was standing right in front of her, smiling at her with his warm, comforting smile. It was making her sick. Literally.

"Hi."

Amelia was still not entirely caught up with the present and her eyebrows were slightly raised and her eyes were wide and somewhat vacant. Owen was supposed to be in Iraq. Actually, Owen had not contacted her since her weepy phone call last night and until a few minutes ago her insides had been turning with worry because he had not contacted her at all today. Maybe then this was ghost Owen. The plane had actually crashed and this was in fact a hallucination. She jumped about three feet into the air when she felt something delicately touch her arm. He'd touched her arm, which meant he wasn't a ghost, because ghost can't touch you. Blue eyes met bluer eyes and Amelia didn't know what to feel. Owen was standing right there in his uniform, his right hand softly touching her arm, his eyes growing worried the longer she just stood there without uttering a word.

"Owen?" she asked, as if to get some sort of confirmation that he was really, actually standing right there and he wasn't dead like she'd been trying to convince herself for the past ten minutes at least.

He nodded, rubbing his thumb along the bump of her elbow. "I'm here."

His voice was soft and calming and Amelia felt herself growing… irritated. While confusion and exhaustion still slowed significantly her brain, she was processing everything at half speed. "You're supposed to be in Iraq." She stated matter-of-factly.

Owen smiled again and tilted his head. "No. I'm supposed to be here." He nodded at her, letting his eyes wander briefly to her mid-section.

Amelia shook off his hand from her arm, as her higher functions started to kick in. "No." her voice was just above a whisper. She turned, looking straight into his eyes, as if to make a point without needing any words. Her face hardened and her eyes narrowed, but her hormones betrayed her and her eyes started filling with unshed tears and her lip was quivering at the mere sight of this man. "No." she added in a harsher tone, which turned to be scary enough despite her watery voice, because he stood straighter, back on his heels, away from her. "No. I don't want you here."

"Amelia." For just a second her words hurt. Owen felt them piercing his chest right in the middle, burning through skin and muscle. Taking a moment to really look at her, though, he knew exactly what was going on – to the extent that he would ever be able to get into her head, anyway. "Can we go in there, please?" he pointed at her office.

She looked at the door behind her, biting her cheek. The anger inside of her was clouding her judgement and the realisation that said anger was not directed at him, but mostly at herself spurred on frustration and more tears. She was angry with herself for sending him away and then wanting him back, she was angry with herself for not knowing what she really wanted. She was angry with him for knowing all of this or even just enough to make the right choice for the both of them. Amelia looked at Owen, her eyes falling on the name strapped to his jacket, and nodded mutely.

Not a stranger to body language, Owen sighed, and reached to her hand, which was still clutching the keys in a death grip and held it for a few moments. He was met by her confused stare and he saw in her eyes the second she realised she was holding the keys in her hand. Quietly, she opened the door and walked inside switching on the lights. Owen closed the door behind him and, once inside, he took a moment just to look at her. It had been a few days since he'd last seen her and he couldn't help but notice some differences in her appearance already. Or maybe it was an illusion, just like her nausea. Maybe he was seeing things, reshaping the images in his brain to see what he wanted to see. Amelia looked tired, stressed and he couldn't tell if she'd already been looking this bad before or not. Owen wasn't sure how much it was Derek's death and Meredith's disappearance and how much of it was the pregnancy.

"Why did you come back?" Her voice was small, like that of a child, and when his eyes went up to hers he found she was looking away from him, down at her hands fidgeting with the keychain she was holding.

Owen frowned. "What do you mean why? I came back-"

"Don't." she looked up at him, finally straight into his eyes. Her gaze was hard and icy and her whole demeanour was cold and detached. "Don't you dare say you came back for me."

"I wasn't going to say that." Owen reasoned, a bit unsure at her sudden change. "I came back because going was a mistake. I came back because we're having a baby. I want to be here for that."

Amelia frowned, still chewing the inside of her cheek in a last ditch effort to keep the tears from falling. "The baby won't be here for six months." She felt her control start to slip and she wasn't fast enough to stop before snapping at him. "I told you to go, why didn't you listen?"

"I listened." He replied his voice was not so soft and sweet anymore. "I went because I thought you were right, but you weren't. I don't want to be here just when the baby comes, I want to see ultrasounds and I want to go shopping and I want to feel it kick… I want all of it. All of it."

"Well I don't want you here."

Amelia sat down on the sofa, letting the hard cushions dig into the sore muscles of her back. She sighed, feeling a tear fall from her left eye, knowing she wouldn't be able to move a muscle without many more following suit. She took a deep breath and another and another, and closed her eyes for just a minute, not only was she ready to sleep for a decade, but the emotional stress of the last few minutes was eating at her. Those words, she never meant those words. Not the way they sounded. She could do this alone, she knew she could. Having Owen meant having something to lose and she could not lose him. Not in any capacity. Considering the last few years of her life, she should give him a medal for even sticking around. All the men around her died, every single one, almost like a curse, as if she was infected somehow. That could not happen to Owen. Even if it meant living half a life to make sure he'd be happy and have a chance at being happy.

Owen stared. For just a moment in time, the hope and happiness inside of him dissipated like smoke. There one second and gone the next. How had things changed so drastically in less than a day? It wasn't possible, he was familiar with mood swings and how they wouldn't affect her until later on, so it wouldn't make sense for her to tell him she missed him and then… unless. It made perfect sense. She missed him. Owen felt like slapping himself silly. He walked and sat next to her on the sofa, less than a foot away, careful not to invade her space too much. Her brother had just died, unexpectedly. It made absolutely no sense, yet, to him it made all the sense in the world. Amelia had suffered so much in her life and this was just a way to protect herself. Isolating herself, pushing away all the people that cared, all the people she didn't want to lose. And he couldn't blame her.

He reached over her lap to take one of her hands in his. "Amelia I'm not leaving. Not ever."

She shook her head and her eyes drifted shut as he stroked the back of her hand. When they opened again, just a sliver, not even enough that Owen would notice, she saw her other hand laying on her stomach, cupped around the growing bulge tucked under her belly button. In only a couple of days it had grown remarkably, so much that she could now see the definite curve just standing in front of the mirror, all probably due to the fact that she'd been resting and eating regularly. When Amelia had figured it out the first thing she'd wanted to do was tell Owen, show him, but then she remembered how he wasn't there. "You can't promise that."

"No, I can't."

Amelia sniffled. "I can't get used to having you around, when maybe one day you won't be there."

Owen was at loss of what to say. He could follow her reasoning and got her, and knew that she shouldn't be thinking like this, on top of everything else it wasn't healthy, especially for her. Still, he sat there, holding her hand, staring at her other hand on top of her sweater, half hidden under her jacket. Owen sat there and focused on her breathing, her shaky, irregular breathing. "You said you couldn't do it alone. What changed?"

"You left-"

"You told me to." he turned to her, wishing she would at least look at him directly instead of staring down at her lap. "You told me to go even when I asked if I shouldn't, even when I asked if you were doing it to see if I'd stay instead. You made me go, Amelia. I was ready to give that up because of you and you practically told me if I didn't go I would ruin our… whatever."

Owen just waited for her to say something. Respond in any way to this. Turn to face him. Slap him. Yell at him. Anything, really. When she gave no sign that she'd heard him, he squeezed her hand. "Amelia?"

She wrapped her hand around his. He'd been holding her hand before, but she'd hadn't moved, not an inch, not a muscle. She'd been passive and whether it had been voluntary or not Owen had never let go. "I didn't mean it like that. It's not about you."

"Then what is it about?" Owen prompted, his patient and understanding tone wavering, bordering on exasperation.

Amelia leaned her head back, bending her neck in the hollow were the cushion ended a little bit above her shoulders. "I was scared. I didn't want you to bail on your army buddies because I got pregnant, I thought down the line you'd hold it against me and, really, I knew I'd be okay for a few months by myself, so I made you go. It's just… when you left I realised I kind of wanted you here. Sort of. That was scary, depending on your presence is scary for me."

As her voice cracked Owen let go of her hand and snaked his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him, rubbing small, regular circles on her shoulder, while both of her hands ended up in her lap. "I have already had a baby. I know how it works. I know how hard it is and, most importantly, I know that I can do it by myself. I can't get used to having you around if one day you won't be there anymore. That I can't do."

"So you're mad that I came back because…" Owen frowned. "I might leave again?"

Amelia shook her head and he pulled her a little closer against him, offering whatever comfort he could. But she didn't say anything. Instead, she grabbed his other hand and brought it over in her lap, holding it, playing with his fingers. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not."

"But I am." She turned to look at him, finally. Now he could see clearly the tear tracks down her cheeks and several wet spots on her sweater. "Derek did it with me. When I was using, the first time, he did this to me. At first, he was going all saviour complex on me, he was fresh out of med school and thought he could save the entire world. Then it got hard. I was too far gone to give a crap about how much he or mom were hurting, not on top of all the hurt I had inside and I was in the hospital a lot and I disappeared few times, hell one day I even woke up in another state with no memory of even leaving my room. Then when I overdosed, I-uh, I died… he gave up on me. He shut me out of his life, said he couldn't handle seeing me hurt myself like that anymore. And I hated him for it."

Owen's hand travelled from her shoulder to the back of her hair, were it tangled in her dark curls. He took deep satisfaction in the way her eyelids fluttered shut at the contact. "I don't get it."

"I'm doing the exact same thing to you!"

Owen frowned. He'd followed her story and her reasoning, yet he was missing the seemingly obvious connection between the two apparently different scenarios. "Am I supposed to be Derek in this story?"

"No," her tone was almost scolding, as if everything she'd been saying was so obvious. "You're me. I'm Derek. I'm the one pushing you away because it hurts too much to keep you around." When Amelia saw the deep lines on Owen's forehead, though, she took pity on him. "Don't be too literal. Derek pushed me away because it hurt him to see me like that, because no matter how hard he tried I never got better. When I did get better, for a long time I hated him for abandoning me, for being selfish. I sent you away because I am terrified that if I get used to having you with me, then one day you might not be there anymore. To protect myself from that, from losing you, I pushed you away. I'm being selfish."

The words hung in the air for a little while, undisturbed by any other noise, but deep breathing and the occasional sniffle. Owen sighed, this situation wasn't complicated or difficult, it was definitely not idyllic, but they were making it so much harder than it needed to be.

"You are." A second after the words left his mouth he felt Amelia tense in his arms. Before she could say anything – or inflict bodily harm – he went on, keeping a calming hand on her shoulder. "Today I heard something, though. Apparently, being selfish is part of being a parent."

Amelia didn't bother to hide the confusion from her face. "So all parents are selfish? That makes no sense, Owen."

Owen shook his head, stifling a laugh. "No, not like that. I think it's more along the lines of reconsidering your life and your priorities. It's like everything shifts."

He tilted his head, trying to get a look at whatever was going on with her, but he couldn't without pulling away. With the corner of his eye he saw her biting her lip – something he found endlessly fascinating – but the way her body had, once more, turned rigid was not a good sign.

"Does that make you selfish?"

Owen nodded eagerly. "I never thought I'd see the day I'd do something like this. Yesterday I thought you were right, I thought I could go for a few months and then come back and commit to this. I wanted to believe that and then you sent me the ultrasound picture. It's grainy, it doesn't really look like anything yet, and I still spent hours staring at it. Going was a mistake. So I came back and my CO seemed okay with it, strangely."

Amelia shifted against his side and for a moment he thought she was going to stand and walk away, instead she snuggled into his side, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Really? He was okay with you ditching them? It doesn't sound army like."

"Well, he wasn't exactly giving me a pat on the back, but I'd been discharged years ago, so in a way I had no obligation to them, if not my word that I'd go." He stroked her hand and sighed. "I needed to feel like I had something to look forward to again, so thank you. For that."

He couldn't see it, but he felt her smirk against his neck. Then Amelia pushed herself up, just enough to look at him, and finally their eyes lock. "Owen you shouldn't thank me." She started in a serious tone causing his breath to hitch in his throat in anticipation. "You should thank whatever form of birth control failed."

Owen laughed out loud. "You're right. I should."

"Yeah, or maybe it is me." He could hear her light hearted and sarcastic voice, but the little spark in her eyes wasn't there anymore. "I do have a thing for getting pregnant at the worst possible times."

Owen felt something tighten inside his chest, hearing those words he suddenly remembered she's been pregnant before, she had a baby. And her baby died. He had no idea how or when or why, but what he did know was enough that he did not want to hear the rest, especially now. He pulled her back against him, kissing the top of her head sweetly, feeling her readjust against his side.

"This is good, though, right?" he asked as the insecurity started to build up inside him.

Amelia didn't answer right away, something that certainly did not ease up his stomach ache, but then she nodded, softly, almost imperceptibly, against him. "It is. I think."

It wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping for, but it's good enough for now. "Amelia." This is something he had planned to tell her months ago, but life got in the way. However, when she didn't make a move Owen went on, praying that she wasn't already asleep. "I didn't come back just for the baby."

That seemed to be enough for her to pull away and look straight at him. "Oh. You were scared of leaving your department to someone else?"

Owen was taken aback by her answer and it took him a little to realise she knew what he meant with those words and she was just messing with him. "No, definitely not. I was actually quite excited at the change of scenery. We probably will need to talk about this, at length, but I'm not here just because…"

"You accidentally got me pregnant?" Amelia suggested, stifling a yawn.

"No, well, yes." Now he was the one looking away. "We started something and we had a fight. We should have moved past it. We-I should have fought harder, for you. I don't want to be with you because of the baby-"

Amelia sat up, away from him, and turned her body to face his. "Wait. You're right, we should talk about this, but not now. Not when you've spent I don't even know how many hours on planes and in airports and when we've just found out days ago that we're having a baby. We're not thinking clearly."

"I have had a lot of time to think. A lot. I told you we were a plane crash and we left things there." he reached for her hand and, after a moment of hesitation, she squeezed back. "I wanted to talk, really talk. I wanted to know what happened when you called us a mistake I wanted to understand, but then…" Derek died.

Good job, Owen. Excellent.

"But then I ignored you." She offered, before the conversation would take a different turn. She wasn't ready for that. She couldn't say it. She barely allowed herself to think it.

Luckily, he recovered quickly from this near disaster. "I'm saying I wanted to make things right with you. Even before there was a baby in the picture, just so you know that."

Amelia nodded, but said nothing. She was chewing on her cheek nervously, after she'd told Owen she didn't want him here – and kind of cleared it up, but still – he'd poured his heart out to her, saying he wanted her. It was terrifying. There was no denying she was in love with him and she had little doubt on Owen's feelings, but, especially now, it didn't feel so easy to put two and two together. She stood, unexpectedly, and smiled sweetly when she saw the confused look on his face. "Come on. I'm way too tired to drive and I want to sleep in a bed outside of this hospital."

Owen stood as well and walked to the door, nodding slowly, not daring to use words.

When they reached the land, Amelia was already asleep. She'd fallen asleep ten minutes into the journey home and Owen had not minded one bit. Arizona had caught them before they left the hospital and reminded them both that Amelia needed to sleep; her body needed the energy to grow a tiny human. Also, it meant no awkward conversation on topics like the weather or politics or whatever else didn't involve their relationship, babies and baby related stuff. Or Derek, Owen reminded himself. As he got to the trailer, though, he was stuck. He didn't know whether he should take Amelia to the house or should he assume she'd stay with him or… no. That was stupid. Of course, she wouldn't stay with him. Owen realised the best course of action, while it was also the possibly most dangerous, was to wake her up and talk to her, ask her what she wanted to do. Owen shook her shoulder gently until she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Oh," she looked around, blinking confusion and disorientation from her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

Before he could say anything, ask her what she wanted to do, Amelia got out of the car and headed to the trailer sleepily. Owen sat, frozen to his seat in her car, which was still running. It seemed Amelia had just made the decision for them. He shook his head and parked the car, walking up to her. Amelia looked at him expectantly, rubbing her hands together and yawning. Without a word, they were both inside and Owen had no time to lose his mind in nostalgic thoughts, he had no time to think about how everything was laying exactly where he'd left it a few days before. He let his eyes wander to her. She was sitting on the sofa, seconds away from falling back asleep.

"Do you want a t-shirt? Pants?" he asked walking down the little hall, setting his bag somewhere they wouldn't trip on it – which turned out a lot to be a lot harder than expected – and fished out sleepwear for the both of them.

Owen tried his best not to watch as he stumbled to change, carefully hanging his uniform, regardless of how he had no reason to. Amelia had grabbed silently the pants and sweatshirt he handed to her and, either because she was overly tired or just because she didn't care, she'd begun tossing her own clothes on the sofa, changing into the sweats without even making an effort to cover herself. Again without a word she'd walked the distance to the bed, crawling over to lay on what had become her side of the bed, which was just the side Owen never slept on. The bed dipped and not even a minute later he was laying opposite her, both on their sides facing each other. Neither one dared to speak a word, knowing that the semi argument they had in her office, due to her surprise and their emotional high, was not finished. Their fears and worries were still there and most likely would be no matter how much they'd talk things over.

In a rush of confidence Amelia reached over to take Owen's hand in hers. While it was all so confusing the littlest pieces were starting to fall into place, everything was slowly starting to make sense. "Arizona said I'm due in January. Apparently, I'm nine weeks tomorrow, which means the baby is officially a fetus and not a mass of cells anymore."

"Wow. That's fast." Owen smiled and pulled her hand to him, getting her to scoot closer. "So it's going to be like a late Christmas present?"

Amelia looked at him, straight into his eyes, she felt herself absorb a little of his happiness just by looking at him. In the few months she'd known him, he'd never looked this happy, except maybe when they'd found out about the baby, but then the happiness was mixed with fear and excitement and surprise, now it looked like pure happiness. It made her feel better knowing he felt like that. She wouldn't feel it. there was no way she'd ever allow herself to feel this way, subconsciously, but in a way he could be happy enough for the both of them.

"Unless he or she is early. Here's hoping they're smart enough not to be born on Christmas, 'cause, you know, they'd end up getting half the presents."

Owen chuckled at her reasoning. "That's never going to happen."

Amelia smiled and leaned her head on his arm, using it as a pillow. "No, but they won't get too many presents either. I hate spoiled children."

He shook his head, making a mental note to remember her exact words on their baby's first Christmas, whether it be this year or the next, when she'd surely go overboard with presents their little one wouldn't even care about yet. Instead of answering in any way, not wanting to ruin to mood, he slipped an arm around her pulling her completely against him, hugging her so tight he wasn't sure she'd still be able to breathe. Owen held on for a few minutes, memorising the feeling, letting the anxiety and disappointment of not being in the warzone wash over him completely.

After a little Amelia rolled on her back. Brows furrowing, he stared at her, wondering what happened, if he had done something wrong. She smiled. A warm reassuring smile, one he had not seen in such a long time. Amelia grasped his hand, the one resting on her waist, and held it for a moment. Owen was growing more confused by the second, but in time, more than confused he was intrigued. However all of that was wiped clean from his brain – along with any other form of coherent thought – when she guided his hand underneath her sweatshirt and laid it gently on the little bump on her stomach. She was staring up at him, not wanting to miss whatever reaction he was going to have. When he got over the surprise and got what she was doing his eyes went up to hers, wide and blue and warm and loving.

"Is that…"

Amelia nodded against his shoulder and opened her mouth to answer, but she let out a giant yawn instead. "I'm going to go to sleep," she mumbled, nuzzling her face into his Owen-smelling t-shirt. "You can keep groping me as long as you want, just don't wake me, okay?"

She grinned when she saw, through half-closed eyes, how he suddenly looked like a kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "Relax. You know what I mean." She kissed his cheek and closed her eyes, knowing in a matter of seconds she'd be asleep. She could feel is hand going over the little bulge, pushing down a little here and there. Maybe, just maybe, if he held her long enough he'd infect her with some of his contagious happiness and elation. Never in her life had anything worked well to the end, Derek's unexpected death being just the most recent example, but something deep inside her she had a good feeling about this, gut feeling, mother's intuition, whatever it was Amelia hoped like hell it was right. Just this once.

This is supposed to be the end. Now, just a couple of things: first and foremost I'd like to thank every single one that stuck with this until now, personally I don't count reviews on my fingers nor I write to attract audience, but it's really nice to know what I do is appreciated by someone who's not me. Also, while this is the end it doesn't necessarily mean I won't from time to time post a related one shot. I had planned to write a huge thing out of this, but then I realised I just couldn't work it out of something that was originally meant as a one shot.

p.s. I'm not dead, I'm on vacation. So is my brain.