Chapter Five

McArmy

A/N Ok I know these have been totally at about 2k words, but I was struggling to come up with scenes that lasted that long, because the episodes are only 20 mins. Then I realised that I usually give myself 2k for a show that's 40 mins, like Buffy. So from now on they will probably be just over 1k.

*Flashback* MEDCOM run hospital, Iraq 2016

Protect. Protect, protect, protect. That's what he was taught in training. Protect civilians, protect friends and colleagues and protect yourself. That was the biggest lesson. Then came the quick thinking and the loud noises and sudden heat blaring down on him from the desert. The man beneath was cold, almost freezing, in any case he was shivering. Whether that was to with the temperature of the blood loss was anyone's guess.

And as he struggled, as he held his hands to the neck of his friend, as he forced back the pump that was keeping all of them alive, he thought how good it would be to die right now. To die so he didn't have to lose someone else. To die so that this wouldn't be his job anymore, and that someone else would have to same him.

Owen shook himself and closed his eyes, imagining all this was away, that the sun wasn't baring down on him, that he was looking out of his apartment window and holding an apple. That he could eat the apple, the acid on his lips, the skin breaking on his teeth – and the crunch! Then his eyes were opening again and the man beneath him gave a weepy groan. It was a guttural sound, a noise that formed gruff syllables in his throat before he'd made it.

He tried to shuffle his body but found himself fixed, paralysed to the spot. A man he knew standing over, hands clamped to his neck, a throbbing all his chest and over his shoulder. At first he thought he was being strangled, that something had gone drastically wrong, or that PTSD had gotten to the worst of them and in a trauma-induced rage Owen had turned on him. But then words came out of his mouth. "It's ok, I've called for backup, they're not here yet, but they will be." Then quietly, as if Owen didn't want him to hear, "I hope they will be."

Maybe hours passed, maybe it was just minutes. But soon enough the man's eyes began to flicker, the blood loss became just too great for him to stay awake and he lost consciousness. He lost his sense of awareness, he lost the feeling of Owen's hands at his neck, forcing his blood back inside his body.

There were no heart monitors or machines in the desert, no continual beep until the monotonous flatline occurred. No code blue, no crash carts. There was just a thin pulsing that felt like sound and then suddenly there wasn't. It wasn't expected, it wasn't predicable. It just was, and then it wasn't anymore. His life was in Owen's hands one minute, and draining away into the desert sands the next. Owen took a deep breath, he slouched backwards and reclaimed his hands from his friend's lifeless body. He closed his eyes again and prayed for an emergency vehicle, he prayed for the floodlights of an army helicopter. But it was all too late.

One minute he was fighting, he was straining to keep the balance of life and death in his favour. And the next he was sitting back on his knees and crying like baby, wishing that something would save him. That someone else would take over for him now. That he'd lost a losing battle with the inevitable. He wished the latter wasn't true, but it was what he spoke about the most in his therapy sessions.

Seattle, Washington - March 2022

"Hello? Anybody?" Owen said as he walked through the house - he'd found the door ajar and was about to leave it when he heard voices. It'd been so long since he'd heard anybody speaking. Unpredictability; that was something he wasn't used to. Owen had been living a military life for as long as he could feasibly remember, every morning was the same, every day the same three meals would rotate in an organised fashion. Nothing was left to chance, no moment spared so he would have time to remember the dead. Those he'd killed, and those he'd failed to save.

"Oh my god, another person, we were just saying that was gonna happen." Meredith said as she lunged herself forwards, trying to bring Owen in a non-consensual hug. He remained stiff and didn't quite know how to react to the woman now hanging off him. "Sorry. It's been a while you know." She apologised, peeling herself away from his army get up and taking a step backwards, Derek laying a hand on her lower back.

"Ok, well I'm Owen Hunt, I'm a soldier." He said with an attempt at a smile, it'd been a while since he'd had to make any sort of facial expression and it was proving tense to try and move those muscles again. He was genuinely happy though, the presence of people wasn't something he was aiming to find, but then his truck had passed some 'ALIVE IN SEATTLE' billboards and he'd decided it couldn't hurt. He wouldn't have found them without his truck, it was filled with thermal imaging tech they used to use in the army to detect heat signatures at night time. "So it was one of you that put up those billboards?" He said.

Derek took a step forward presenting himself. "Yeah, that was me," then he took a heavy shake of Owen's hand and introduced him to everyone else. "This is my wife Meredith, and Cristina, oh and I'm Derek, Derek Shepherd."

"Nice to meet you people. Boy am I pleased to see people." Owen said finally before setting his pack down and leading everyone outside to see his truck.

Seattle, Washington - May 2022

Derek and Cristina were at the bar. All the balls including Bryce (the soccer ball) and Gary (the volleyball) were laid out over the pool table, and smiling away as per usual. He thought if Cristina could see how lonely he'd gotten, that maybe she'd feel like she had a friend in him too. She chuckled as she walked in through the bar's double doors and laughed harder when she saw each of the balls had faces on.

"Ok, ok look, don't laugh at me, these guys really helped me through a tough time." Derek said, picking up Gary and pointing his little face towards the brunette. "I think I must've watch Castaway about a hundred times through that year, I was alone, so so alone and these guys were all that was standing between me and ending it all." He continued, smiling favourably down at Gary as he spoke.

They sat down at the counter and Derek poured them both a scotch, not that it was a time for drinking, but it felt just. Derek took some time to let Cristina breathe, to let her think and feel and wait to see if she had anything to say. He wanted to be another friend to her, another voice she could hear, even though they had Owen now, it was all still so new. This new growing society, and he had something to get off his chest.

"Owen." He started with, "or more specifically you and Owen, it seems obvious doesn't it. I mean other than the fact that he's the only single man left on the planet. But you know what I mean, I think you like him." He finished, sounding like he was in the school cafeteria asking her about a boy from gym class. He regretted the gossipy tone, but his message was clear.

Cristina looked down at her glass, the brown liquid sloshing around in the crystal. "Meredith doesn't know yet. He's like some super badass soldier guy. And he's like no one I've ever met, he's tough, you know." She finished, knocking her shot to the back of her throat and standing up. She gave Derek a friendly smile and patted Gary on the head. She left the bar with her hair swinging and a smile plastered on her face.