It is one of those crisp Seattle evenings, after the rain has just stopped. If you pause long enough to take a deep breath, the earth smells mossy. And if you look up at the sky, the woolly clouds of Zeus roll by, revealing in their wake a clear expanse of navy blue.

It would have been a perfect night to gaze at stars, but Owen has something else on his mind.

And there she is.

Cristina's hands are deep in her raincoat pockets and her leisurely walk almost comes to a halt when she sees him standing by the stoop of her building. Her eyebrows arch and her lips part, as if she's about to say something. But she doesn't.

It has been almost a week since she mentioned that she, too, was going to see Dr. Wyatt. Part of him still winces inside at the thought of how he hurt her, how he could have easily killed her with his hands. He has yet to forgive himself, even though he knows he had no control over himself when the strangling took place.

They've been amiable if professional to each other at the hospital, but even that it is not enough for him. Each day, it leaves him utterly miserable not to be able to talk and flirt with her like he used to, to say nothing of the frustration he feels at not being able to make love yet to her once more. They have met for lunch once in the cafeteria, ignoring the curious glances thrown their way. But beyond that, they have not seen each other, even though Cristina had declared herself ready to spend more time with him.

What makes everything somewhat bearable is that they have since abandoned the awkward dance of deliberate avoidance. For Owen, it has been painful to watch Cristina so clearly dedicated to work and Izzie's care yet nakedly vulnerable in her solitary moments, when she thinks he's not around to observe her.

Now, when their eyes do meet in the hallways, the cold fear of losing her melts away at what he sees in her face: hope.

"I had to see you," he says.

"Are we – should we – be doing this?"

"We're not doing anything­ yet, Cristina," he laughs quietly. "Although I'm working very hard on that part."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Look, can we? Can we just walk for a bit?" he asks

She is silent for a few seconds before she replies, "Ok."

They both turn to walk slowly side by side. He longs to take her hand, but he doesn't, even though his fingertips tingle with the memory of brushing hers, and more important, the memory of how smooth and soft her cool skin felt to his touch as his hands explored her bare body once.

He mentally shakes off the sensual image. It's a minute before he says something again.

"I've been meeting with Dr. Wyatt a lot."

"I know."

She takes a deep breath and exhales. "Me, too."

"I told her I wanted to start spending more time with you again outside of the hospital, but take things very, very slowly."

"And?"

"She asked me if I thought it was a good idea."

"Is it?"

"I told her that I had every intention of taking care of my issues, before anything else. And I meant it."

"You know, it's not that simple."

"I know. But I'm making progress. I haven't had nightmares in a while. I've been undergoing EMDR as part of a VA study. I've also been taking…"

"Medication?"

"No. Ok…don't laugh. I've been taking lessons in meditation. They're supposed to help."

"You have?" she blurts out, stops walking and stares incredulously at him.

He stops, too, and turns to face her, his expression grim.

"Cristina, I want to be whole again. So I'm doing whatever it takes for as long as it takes. I can't get back the part of me that was destroyed. But here, in the after, I don't want to lose what's left of me. There are pieces of me that are still alive and somehow connected, that I'm still living and breathing. Pieces of me that you saw. You see me."

Cristina says nothing. Every part of her wants to embrace Owen, kiss him, comfort him. But it is not yet time.

Her lips lift at the corners.

"The funny thing is, you see me, too," she replies, not daring to look at him.

She turns to walk back to her apartment and he does the same, staying by her side.

"So, about us taking it slowly…" she says.

"You know, we haven't had much of a chance to do anything together outside of work and your place even before what happened in your room. So I was thinking we should venture out. I told Dr. Wyatt that any time you and I would spend would be strictly in public."

"And she signed off on that?"

"She had her reservations, but I told her not seeing you is making it much more difficult for me to focus on what I have to do.

"She bought that explanation?"

"It's the truth. So…do you have plans tomorrow?"

"Other than sleeping in on a Saturday morning? Not really."

"How about I pick you up around 10? Right here," he says, standing once more at the entrance to Cristina's and Callie's apartment building.

"EMDR and meditation, huh?"

"Whatever it takes, Cristina."