Amelia POV

I woke up to Owen tossing and turning as my alarm went off. It was only 5:30 so I had another hour before Bella woke up and then a day full of surgeries starting right at 8 a.m.

"Babe... Owen, wake up."

His tossing got more violent as he kept mumbling something. I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. His hand gripped onto my wrist with more strength than I ever knew he had in him. Immediately I regret the decision and came to a conclusion he was having night terrors from his PTSD. His eyes were open now as he mumbled something about an enemy but he wouldn't let go no matter how much I tugged. Tears pooled my eyes from the extreme pain and I thought surely he would break my wrist.

"Owen, you're hurting me! You aren't over there. You are home with me!"

His grip only tightened so my natural instinct was to slap him with all that I had in me. He immediately released and shot up looking at me. Tears were streaming down my face. I was horrified.

"Amelia, I-"

I got up and ran to the bathroom as fast as I could being seven and a half months pregnant. I locked the door behind me so he wouldn't be able to get in. I looked down at my wrist which was red from where his hand was squeezing it. There was no break, I knew that but definitely something wrong since it wouldn't stop throbbing and was already swelling. Owen was knocking on the door. I knew he felt horrible. He would never consciously hurt me.

"Amelia, please open the door... Please... I'm so sorry... Please."

I wiped my tears away and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with ice cold water and wrapping it around my wrist before I opened the door slowly. He stood there looking panicked.

"How bad is it? I didn't mean to... God I'm horrified."

"It's just a little sore. I'm gonna be okay."

"I fucked up. I really did. I'll go see Dr. Goyle today. I don't know what to do. Can I see it?"

I slowly took the wash cloth off, revealing the redness and swelling. Through the throbbing I knew my hand was shaking. I tried to control it the best I could. I couldn't even be mad at him. He didn't know what he was doing. He gasped when he saw it and dropped his head.

"Oh my god..."

He sprinted over to the toilet and threw up whatever he had in his stomach. He flushed the toilet then brushed his teeth as he fought back tears. I had never seen him so distraught. I walked over and placed my good hand on his lower back. He flinched at the touch and turned around to face me.

"Don't touch me... I don't want to hurt you."

This now brought tears to my eyes. I held onto one of his hands and pulled him to the bed for us to sit. I sat against the headboard and pulled him down to where his head was on my lap since he was horizontal on the bed.

"I'm not mad at you Owen. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. That wasn't even really you. That was your PTSD. Yes, I do think you need to go to therapy more regularly. I should've known to not actually touch you. My wrist isn't broken. Not even sprained I don't think. Probably just a bruise but it will be fine. I don't want you to cry."

"I can't even express how sorry I am... I hurt my pregnant wife... I can't sleep in bed with you anymore."

"Owen, stop. Really I-"

"I don't want to risk it. You're pregnant and I'm supposed to be the one to protect you but I'm the one hurting you."

"Please no... I can't sleep well unless you're next to me. I need you. Maybe if you take a sleep aid or some anti-anxiety meds, this won't happen. Please don't punish me like that."

He sat up and finally made eye contact with me.

"Punish you? That's not you being punished. That's you being safe."

"We fought last night. It was a stupid argument that should've never happened over you knocking over what I had just pumped so I got mad at you, then you were mad because it had got all over your new shoes. We were both stressed but said we would just move past it in the morning. We went to sleep facing away from each other with pillows between us. So maybe that fueled some of your episode you had."

He seemed to be calming down and my wrist wasn't hurting as much once the muscles were able to relax again.

"I'm really sorry Amelia. This won't happen again. I love you so much and I can't fathom the fact I hurt you."

"I forgive you. Bruises will heal. I guess this would be a good time to establish the rule of us never going to sleep mad at each other. We both know we only sleep good when it's together and cuddled with one another."

"That's true. I promise we won't go to bed mad. We'll resolve our arguments no matter what, even if we have to stay up really late."

"It's a deal."

He looked down at my hurt wrist again.

"Can I assess it? I promise I'll be careful."

I held my hand out, unable to control the shaking. He lightly held it and naturally my muscles flinched. He looped fingers with my fingers on that hand and moved it around some. I had full mobility in it besides my skin just being sore.

"It's not broken and from you having full range of motion, there is no sprain. I would say you have deep tissue bruising. We will alternate between hot and cold compresses until it's time to leave for work and then we'll have Callie check just to make sure."

"I guess Edwards will get my surgeries for today. I can't have any tremors while operating on someone's brain. One little slip and they're a vegetable. I'm sure within a day or two's time, I'll be able to cut."

He sat beside me and pulled me close into his arms.

"I love you so much Amelia. I'm so sorry. I can't say that enough."

"I know you are Owen. It's alright. I love you all the same."

I really wasn't mad at him, more concerned for his mental well being. More therapy would definitely be in order for him. Now it was just concealing this and making sure it would heal alright so rumors wouldn't spread and the others at work wouldn't panic...