Here’s the link to all my writing on AO3. Lots of Polin content. A lot of it was written prior to season 3 being released but I have two posted now that it has been released. Please consider reading!

I’ve seen your comments and a missing moments installment from episode 4 will be coming at you. At some  point. Some unexpected things came up and I just haven’t had the time to sit down and write it. There’s also a couple moments from the episode I want to go back and rewatch…so…never fear you’ll get your Omelia missing moment!

To my dear sweet Omelia fandom, it seems like the next few episodes of Grey’s Anatomy are going to be extremely difficult to watch. Our babies are going through a tough time.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, I don’t even want to speculate because I’m ALWAYS wrong usually. BUT, there’s a reason fan fiction exists and if they mess with our babies, I’m “writing the wrong” know what I mean?!

One Shots:

The Watch

Omelia 12x05 (because I suck at titles)

After You’re Gone

I Vow

Aftermath

Won’t Let You Fall

Scars

Operation

Keeping the Faith

Let You Go

Love Contract

Mistletoe

The Picture

Which One

Age is Just a Number

Little Miracles

Admission

Angst Week Move On

Angst Week Just the Two of Us   Part Two

Angst Week Another Plane Crash

Angst Week You’re My Child

12x24

Adventures in Babysitting (this was supposed to be multi parted but that never happened so it’s under one shots for now)

Part One

Multi-Part Stories:

Two Pink Lines (finished) Part One  Part Two  Part Three

The Choice (on hiatus) Prelude  Part One  Part Two  Part Three

The Disney Chronicles (finished)  Part One  Part Two  Part Three

Everything (finished)   Part One   Part Two

Missing Moments (chronologically from when I wrote them)

11x24

12x03

11x17

12x12

11x22

7x03

A/N: This is my contribution to Fluff Week. I saw this on Pinterest believe it or not and thought it would make a great addition. Now I’m going to get back to my angst!

Which One Hogs the Blanket

In all of his relationships, he had never enjoyed sleeping with them. Yes, sex was good and all of that, but actually sleeping. He was always miserable. Despite his big, broad build, he actually would get cold rather easily and would need the coverage of a blanket. All of his previous girlfriends would always hog all of the blankets, but not Amelia. Every morning when they woke up they were both fully satisfied. At least, he thought so.

One night in particular, he could feel a chill to his bones, waking up with a shudder. He reached over to find some more blanket, but annoyed to find they were out of his grasp. Turning over, he saw that Amelia had wrapped herself up tight in their comforter, leaving him with a measly sheet to cover himself.

This wouldn’t do. At 2 am he found himself tapping Amelia on the shoulder, hoping to wake her. He eventually needed to resort to shaking her as she could sleep as well as the dead.

“What is it?” she groaned, pulling the comforter closer.

“Wake up,” Owen replied sweetly.

“It’s not morning yet, Mom. Just five more hours, okay?” Amelia contented to drifting back to sleep.

“Amelia. Please wake up.”

Amelia smirked as she rolled toward him, getting the idea that Owen had woken up rather frisky. “Okay, we’ll do it, but it’s not my fault if I fall asleep.”
Just as she rolled, Owen grabbed a hold of the comforter and pulled, rolling Amelia right off of the bed, leaving him with sole possession.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, rubbing her head and kneeling by the couch. “What the hell was that?”

“You stole all of the covers,” he accused. “I thought you were different. I didn’t think you were such a blanket hog.”

“I’m not.”

“You were wrapped up in that comforter pretty tight.”

“Because it’s freezing in here. And you’re one to talk. Every night we go to sleep with equal amount of comforter and every night I wake up without my half, because you my dear are the blanket hog,” she said as she climbed back into bed, parts of her beginning to shiver.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you,” Owen mumbled as he wrapped himself tightly beginning to feel warmth creep back into his body.

“Ugh you’re such a child!” Amelia exclaimed, attempting to find a way into the comforter.

“What do you think you’re doing? I’m trying to sleep.” Owen asked animatedly as Amelia continued to prod.

“Let me in,” she said tugging on it harder and harder.

“Well since you asked so nicely. No.”

“Come on, please,” she pouted. “I know a good way we can warm each other up.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, opening his arms for Amelia to crawl into them and under the comforter with him. “Do tell.”

“Cuddling,” she said as she laid her head on his chest, placing her cold hands on his bare skin under his shirt.

“Just what I had in mind,” he said, only slightly disappointed that he wasn’t going to get lucky that night.

Which One Cuts the Other’s Hair

“Hold still,” Amelia turned his head with a pair of very sharp scissors in her hand.

“You know, I’d like to see some references before I let you do anything to my head,” he argued, turning his head just so Amelia could turn it back again.

“You are such a baby. I am a world renowned neurosurgeon. I think that more than qualifies me to cut your hair.”

“You pretty much scalp your patients before you operate on them,” Owen pointed out matter-of-factly.

“Oh come on, Derek let me cut his hair all the time.”

“Was he conscious?” Owen asked, knowing full well Derek would never do such a thing.

“That’s besides the point,” Amelia rebutted, firmly positioning his head. “Hold still.”

“You know what, I changed my mind.”

“What?” she asked incredulously.

“I don’t need a hair cut,” Owen said nervously, vacating the seat, leaving Amelia with the scissors in her hand.

“Don’t you trust me?” she asked, a hurt look on her face.

“Of course I do,” Owen placated, taking the scissors and safely putting them on the side table. He took her into his arms and gave her a short kiss.

“Then let me cut your hair. Trust me, I am good. How do you think I paid my way through Harvard?”

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. It’s just hair, it can grow back.

“Yay! The doctor is about to operate,” she deepened her voice as she took up the scissors once more.

“Oh God,” Owen groaned, barely audible.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Oh yay I’m so excited,” he responded through gritted teeth.

As she made the first snip, he winced and slammed his eyes shut.

“Baby,” she mumbled.

“Is it so bad that I like my hair?” he called out.

“I call it an unhealthy obsession, but whatever. Tomato to-ma-toe.”

“You sure you don’t want to just scalp me?” he joked.

“Shut up while I work on my masterpiece.”

Less than two minutes later, Amelia exclaimed she was finished with a triumphant, “Ta da,” as she held up the mirror for Owen.

“Wow,” Owen said, genuinely shocked that his hair didn’t look horrible, just a slightly shorter version of what he had.

“What do you think? Do you like it?” Amelia asked sheepishly.

“It looks great. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t ever doubt me again,” she warned as she placed herself in his arms, her hands massaging his neck.

“I won’t.”

“You know what I’m going to miss about your long hair?”

“What’s that?”

“Being able to run my fingers through it. I loved doing that,” she sighed as she began to rub the hair on the back of his neck, making them stand on end.

“Hair always grows back,” he said and captured her lips.

Which One Makes Coffee for the Other Every Morning

The smell of hazelnut drifted into the bedroom and invaded Amelia’s nostrils as she slept. She had had a long night, coming in around 4 am after a long and complicated surgery. He had been surprised that she had come home at all, usually she would just sleep at the hospital, but it had soon become a routine of hers to either return to their apartment or find him at the hospital and snuggle into him in the bed as a way to decompress from the stressful day.

He had begun to do the same thing. For them, just sleeping in each other’s arms and being with each other allowed them to de-stress from everything and savor the good things in life.

Whether they were at their apartment or the hospital, without a doubt, there was always fresh coffee waiting for her. And if Owen couldn’t be there, there was always a note of some kind.

She was sure he didn’t know this, but she kept every single one of his little post-it notes that he would leave her. It wasn’t just morning coffee either; he’d leave them for her in the bathroom for when she got out of the shower or on the refrigerator door reminding her to eat something. Or on the bed at night, assuring her that he’d be home soon. She never quite knew how he found the time to leave these little messages for her, but this had become a thing of theirs and only theirs.

Trudging out into the kitchen she found her favorite mug, filled to the brim with her favorite flavor of coffee. The mug had a graphic of a human brain with the word “Brainz” spelled out across the graphic. Owen had made it up for her. Below the mug was another sticky note.

‘Good morning. Hope you slept well. Enjoy your coffee. I love you.’

So simple and understated, yet it made her feel so special. She took the note and placed it into the small photo album where she had begun to stash every single one of his sticky notes. She had already filled three small albums, and she knew she’d fill plenty more.

Which One is Ticklish

Owen and Amelia had taken vacation time off of work and stowed away to northern California. Just for the weekend, but they found it was exactly what they needed to rejuvenate. They had both been stressed with work and had begun to resent each other in some ways because they found themselves constantly working with no time for their budding relationship.

So they decided they needed to take some time to remind themselves why they fell in love in the first place.

They planned a whole weekend getaway with sight seeing and other fun things to do once they arrived in California, but they found that as soon as they were in their hotel room they had no intentions of leaving.

There were no words needed in order for them to reconnect. They spent the entire weekend in bed, calling up for room service and watching crappy TV.

“What is this show?” Owen asked her as they laid in bed sharing a banana split.

“Like I have any idea,” she answered, taking a bite of ice cream before putting the spoon down and lying on her back, taking a deep breath, sneaking glances at his half naked body lying next to her.

Owen finished and before she knew it, he launched a full on tickle attack against her, trying desperately to poke her in the sides. However, Amelia barely moved in response.

“What?” he asked, sitting up, wondering why Amelia wasn’t cowering away from his ticklish fingers.

“I’m not ticklish,” she answered with a chuckle.

“Not at all?” he asked.

“No. Even when I was a kid. I have never been ticklish.”

“But— ”

“But what? Are you upset that I’m not ticklish,” she asked him as she pounced on him from behind, wrapping her arms around the front of his bare chest.

“Well it’s just weird. Like, you have to be ticklish somewhere,” he said grabbing a hold of her and flipping her back down on the mattress, attempting to find a spot where she was ticklish. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she answered, “but I know where your tickle spot is,” she said as she reached up and Owen jumped back out of her reach.

“No!” he exclaimed, jumping off of the bed as she sat up and tried to go after him. “Amelia, don’t you dare!”

“I’m gonna get you,” she wiggled her fingers at him and Owen let out a small yelp as he began to run around the room, dodging her moves left and right as he tried to escape. “Come on it’s only fair. You were tickling me.”

“Yes, but you’re not ticklish apparently,” he said as she finally cornered him in a part of the room and she began to advance on him.

“Don’t,” he threatened seriously as she leaned in on him and pulled his head down. She put her mouth on that pressure point on his neck, the one that made him so ticklish he would let out almost girly squeals, but she knew it was exactly the right way to turn him on.

“Oh that tickles,” he laughed as she continued to suck on the spot and blow on it, making him shiver at the same time. She then reached her hands to his sides and began to tickle him there as well. With all of Owen’s thrashing, he leaned back and slammed his head against the wall. “Ow!”

“Oh no,” she laughed at him, reaching up to feel his head.

“Are you laughing at my misery?” he asked jokingly.

“Let me see,” she said turning to look at the back of his head.

“Do I need a CT?” he asked, not at all serious.

“You’re clear,” she answered.

“Now it’s time for some payback,” he scowled at her, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Owen? Owen, what are you doing?” she laughed.

He threw her down onto the mattress and followed her, hovering over her, closer to her face. “I’m going to find your tickle spot,” he said as he kissed his way down her face, to her neck and the rest of the way down her body in exploration. He did more than find her tickle spot.

Which one proposes

She had been gone for over a week at a conference in Tampa. He had missed her dearly, although work kept him pretty busy. As well as the surprise he had been meticulously planning for weeks. Everything was ready to be executed. April was filling in for him at the hospital so he went home to begin making Amelia’s favorite meal. He had practiced several times over the past week to make shrimp scampi and he finally had it nailed down. Each batch he made he passed off to his coworkers, at least the batches that were edible.

He hurried around the kitchen, furiously finishing the salad, as she was due to arrive shortly.

He heard the door open and the distinct sounds of luggage dropping onto the floor and an exasperated Amelia shouting to him. “Owen?”

“In the kitchen, babe,” he answered her as he put the apron back on its hook. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I’ve been sitting for the last seven hours. You wouldn’t think a flight from Tampa to Seattle would take so long, but there were mechanical issues. And babies crying. Ugh,” she groaned. “I just want to be up and moving right now. I might go out for a run.”

“No! You can’t,” he shouted as he stood in front of her.

“Why not?” she looked at him like he was a crazy person.

“It’s supposed to storm. I wouldn’t want you to get caught in the storm,” he made up, visibly gulping.

“I checked the weather. It’s clear,” she said, running into the bedroom. “I’m gonna change and go I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

He followed her, not realizing how difficult she was going to make this for him.
“You must be exhausted and hungry. Come eat some dinner. I made your favorite.”

“I ate on the plane,” she said as she tied her running shoes. “You go ahead.”

“Shrimp scampi,” he tried to entice her.

“I’m not hungry. I’ll be back,” she said as she kissed his cheek.

“Why do you have to make everything so damn difficult?” he asked, his nerves getting the best of him and he raised his voice. His back turned to her, she had no clue what was going on.

“Owen, are you okay? What’s going on?” she asked him, slightly worried. “Did something happen at work?”

“No,” he laughed. “I just thought since we haven’t seen each other in a whole week that maybe we could share a meal together. I’ve been cooking for hours it seems just to make your favorite meal.”

“You sound like a girl,” she laughed before she saw his frown. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let’s eat.”

She let him lead her to the table as he went into the kitchen and brought out their plates. When he returned, he turned on some music and they began to eat in silence.

She really wasn’t hungry, especially having eaten some questionable airplane food so she ate a couple of bites of the shrimp scampi, which she did have to admit was delectable, before she just pushed the food around her plate while Owen finished.

“Thank you for making me dinner. It was really sweet,” she stood and began to gather the plates to take them into the kitchen. Not usually her style, she wasn’t one to do the dishes, but after Owen’s outburst she figured she’d contribute.

“What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing her elbow.

“Cleaning up what does it look like?” she asked, turning back to the kitchen, beginning to wash the dishes.

“Amelia, come back in here please,” he called. “Leave the dishes.” He blew out the candle on the table and as she came back in, he took this as his one and only opportunity. “The candle went out. There’s a lighter in that drawer behind you.”

She opened the drawer and stopped as she saw what was in the drawer. “Owen?”

He stood up and went to kneel beside her, waiting for her to pull the ring out of the drawer.

She turned to him with tears glistening in her eyes.

“Amelia, I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll let me. Will you marry me?” he asked her.

She didn’t anything, she just nodded as she kneeled in front of him and pulled him into her.

He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her, rejoicing in the fact that this was going to be it for the rest of his life. Just him and her.

“I’m sorry I ruined your plan,” she whimpered out as she buried her head in his shoulder.

“You didn’t ruin a thing. It was perfect.”

So, this is legitimately the first thing I’ve written since before the winter finale of Grey’s. Not only have I not had motivation to write, but so much other stuff was going on that even if I remotely felt like writing I just couldn’t do it. So this is extremely rough as I’m working through this intense writer’s block. I hope you all still enjoy it and I’m hoping this reopened my fan fiction floodgates. 

“Hey, how’d your surgery go?” Owen asks, walking up to Amelia as she finishes charting, looking fresh after a 9 hour-long procedure.

“Very well. I think there’s a good chance he’ll walk again,” she smiles at him, breaking their intense eye contact.

“That’s great.” He tries to preoccupy himself, but then he takes out the piece of paper Bailey had handed him that morning. It seemed to burn a whole in his mind no matter what he did. Mostly because he didn’t know how she was going to react to it. They were just getting really good, confident with their relationship and he didn’t want this to be a step back.

“You okay?” she asks out of concern when she sees the concentration on his face.

“Fine,” he says and she comes closer to him, leaning in but not quite touching him. He’s amazed how his body pulls toward her of it’s own accord, powerless to stop it.

“My feet are killing me. Meet me in an on-call room?” she whispers into his ear before turning and sashaying away from him. The power this woman had over him; he had never been so compelled before. Not even with Cristina. He wouldn’t ever deny that he and Cristina had something strong and powerful, but he can’t even compare how he feels with Amelia. It was like she was this missing half of him. She understood him in a way that Cristina never had. And although the start of the relationship was difficult and rocky, once they found their stride it became the most natural progression, one that he knew was bound to last forever. They both knew it.

He followed her into the on-call room a few minutes later, the paper folded in his coat pocket. She was lying on the bed, sending him a silent invitation to join her. This had become a normal routine for them. After a long surgery or trying day, they would meet in an on-call room and unwind from the stress together. Not in a sexual way necessarily, although sometimes there were some very steamy moments, but mostly just decompressing; talking through the surgeries or simply just lying together in silence. Even when one of them was on call, the other would stay the night in the on-call room instead of going home to a nice, warm, familiar bed because it just felt wrong to be away from the other person.

Owen slowly saunters over to her and sits down on the bed, pulling her feet into his lap and slowly untying her shoes. He knows how much she loves to get her feet massaged. She has never asked him to. He did it one day out of the blue, and he couldn’t ignore the moans that emanated from her at the pure release of tension. He would massage any part of her, her hands, her temples, and her feet. Whatever she needed. He didn’t mind. It was one of his relaxation techniques. Leaving her socks on, he begins to gently knead her right foot with both of his hands, digging into her pressure points.

He realizes now may be the perfect opportunity to bring up that delicate little piece of paper he had been keeping out of her sight and mind all day.

“So, Bailey brought something up to me this morning.”

“Mmmmm, what?” she asks, her eyes closed, her arms resting comfortably on her stomach as she enjoys the massage.

“The workplace relationships policy,” he says as nonchalantly as he can, watching her out of the corner of his eye for a reaction. He’s thoroughly surprised when he doesn’t see one.

“What about it?” she asks.

“Well, anyone that enters into a serious romantic relationship has to sign a love contract of sorts.”

“I’m not signing it,” Amelia says as she sits up straight, Owen’s hands stilled on her foot.

“Wha- why not?” he stammers.

“A love contract? It sounds so ridiculous that it can’t be a real thing,” she laughs.

“It is,” he says, pulling the piece of paper from his pocket and showing it to her.

She reads over it, humor laced in her eyes. She hands it back to him when she’s finished. “I’m not signing it,” she says leaning toward him.

“Amelia,” he says sternly in the way she loves. “I was chief once, I know how frustrating it can be, but if we are serious about this then we need to sign it.”

“I. Am. Not. Signing. It,” she spells out for him and he shakes his head, removing her feet from his lap and standing to begin to pace, his anger subtly rising within him.

“I just don’t understand. You said it yourself it’s so ridiculous so why not just sign it?”

“You should know by now I’m not a follower of rules,” she points out and watches in silent amusement at his pacing. “I don’t understand why you would want to sign it.”

He stops in his track to turn to her, an unexpected look of hurt in his voice. “It’s important.”

She can tell she’s hurt his feelings. “I’m serious now. Tell me why it’s important to you. Please.” She never intended to shut him out at all; she thought she could have a little bit of fun with him.

“I’ve done the workplace relationship thing before and it hasn’t ended well. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I know that this is going to last. I’m not afraid of that anymore. This is real. The contract just makes it official.”

She sits and listens to him, shaking her head and he chuckles at her, “You don’t get it do you?”

“No, I get it. I’ve never had anything like this before,” she says, taking ahold of his hand. “And I understand that this would make it official. But I don’t need it to be official. We’ve been ‘official’ for a very long time in my opinion. And I don’t care who sees us. I don’t care about hospital policy. We’ve figured out how to make this work and not let work interfere. To me, that’s more important than signatures on a piece of paper.”

He looks at her with love before capturing her lips.

“A formality then?” he asks, holding the piece of paper out to her, taking a pen from his pocket.

She smirks at him before grabbing the pen and scribbling her name, impatiently waiting for him to sign his name so she could continue what he had started.

The hardest part of this was the title, to be honest. But I am officially OFF HIATUS! So here’s something that’s been floating in my head since Thursday’s episode. It felt awesome to have the words just flowing out of me. I’ll also be updating a lot the next couple of days (hint hint The Choice) so stay tuned! I hope you all enjoy this and let me know what you think! 

Amelia couldn’t believe the day that had just transpired. It started out wonderful, a hot make out session in the on call room followed by the most glorious tumor. Then it went to hell in a hand basket. When Bailey introduced them to Riggs she hadn’t even noticed Owen until he was turning to head out the door.

She’d never seen him react that way before. It concerned her. She didn’t really know what was going on. Then he shut her out, wouldn’t say a word, wouldn’t even look at her.

She decided to give him space if that’s what he needed. She wouldn’t push him. People had pushed her before and she never responded well to it, she wouldn’t do that to him. She knew that if he needed her he would come to her in time.

Walking into the house she sees Meredith sitting in the couch, already nursing a glass of wine.

“Hey,” Amelia greets her, jealousy lacing her voice. She hadn’t expected Meredith to respond to Owen the way she had.

“Have a seat,” Meredith commands her and she drops her bag on the floor to sit on the opposite end of the couch.

Amelia could guess where this conversation was heading. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing,” she says. “But I’m telling you this as Owen’s friend and not your sister. He’s going through something right now. He didn’t tell me the whole story and to be honest, the background isn’t my story to tell.”

“Do you have a thing for Owen?” Amelia asks out of the blue.

“Amelia, please. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

“I’m being serious. Why else would you react that way, worried and concerned?”

“I made a promise to Cristina that I would make sure he doesn’t go all dark and twisty. That’s all I was doing. And that’s the end of this conversation.”

“Okay,” Amelia says, grabbing her bag and heading up to her bedroom.

~~~~

It had been a week. She hadn’t seen or heard from Owen since they stood in silence in the ambulance bay. He had changed all of his day shifts to night shifts just so they wouldn’t be at the hospital at the same time. She thought at some point she’d run into him, but it hadn’t happened.

And she didn’t reach out to him either. He would have to be the one to do it. She could be patient, wait until he was ready. Even though it felt like she was dying on the inside.

She knows she loves him with every fiber of her being. She loves the way he just gets her. He understands her. Her entire life she had to put up with everyone putting her down for her addiction. Charlotte was the only one who understood and although a deep loving relationship had developed between the two of them, they didn’t like each other in the beginning.

Owen was different. He was nonjudgmental, warm and understanding. She never experienced that before. He trusted her. Sometimes it felt like everyone around her was just waiting for her to slip up and make mistakes and she’d cycle back into the lonely pit of despair and drugs. But she knew that as long as he trusted her, believed her, had faith in her that it wouldn’t happen.

She misses him. She misses the gentle tugging of his lips against her, his warm hands working their way through the strands of her hair and caressing her face, the way their bodies seemed to fit so snugly together in an embrace. But more than that, she missed the sound of his voice, the way they could just have a conversation so effortlessly. She had always been so socially awkward, but with Owen they could talk about anything or they’d just make out. Either alternative was acceptable to her.

“Dr. Shepherd, have you heard?” Edwards comes up to her as she’s charting.

“Heard what?” Amelia sighs heavily, not making eye contact with Edwards. Missing Owen had put her in a nearly constant sour mood and she had begun to take it out on everyone else. Edwards. Maggie. Meredith. The kids. Patients. She tried to check herself, but it was just slowly eating away at her.

“Dr. Hunt punched Dr. Riggs in the hallway. It’s all over the hospital,” Edwards says and Amelia’s full concentration and attention is on her.

“He what?” Amelia asks, surprised that Owen would resort to violence. Something big was happening to him and she knows that she needs to go find him now. It has to end.

“He’s in the conference room right now awaiting Bailey’s wrath.”

Amelia takes off at a quick pace to the conference room. Opening the door, she sees Owen look towards her and look away, staring into the glass of water in front of him.

“Okay, maybe you don’t want to talk. But I have to,” she says as she sits in a chair across the table from him. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and I don’t need to know. You need to know that no matter how much you push me away and shut me out, that I’m not going anywhere. Because I am fighting for you. You can push and push, but I am not budging.”

His eyes meet hers and she can see how tense he is and she doesn’t back down. “Please say something. Anything so that I know you’re still here.”

“It’s over,” he says.

“What?”

He turns back to his water, fingering the glass and twirling it in his hands. “I said it’s over. We’re done. I don’t want you anymore.” His voice is monotone and she knows he can’t possibly mean what he’s saying.

“Look at me.” She commands him and she thinks his eyes are burning into the wooden finish of the table. “Look at me.” She says more forcefully and he meets her eyes again. “If you want to end this you look me in the eyes and you do it.”

He doesn’t say a word and she can sees tears welling in his eyes.

“There’s nothing that you could do or did that would make me not want you,” she tells him, reaching for his hand, but he pulls away. “Owen. Why don’t you trust me?”
“I do trust you,” he whispers.

“Then why– ”

He cuts her off, storming out his chair and turning his back to her. With a shout, “I don’t trust myself!” He’s breathing so deeply she wishes there was some way to calm him.

She stands and walks to face him again. “What?”

“I don’t trust myself around you. I can’t do it again,” he admits, his tears flowing freely. “I won’t let myself hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” she assures him, confused as to where this is all coming from. Does he mean emotionally? She’s already hurt. It’s almost psychosomatic. She’s hurting because he’s hurting. And it hurt when he turned to Meredith instead of her and when he didn’t want to see her at work. It physically hurt to not see or speak to him. But she knows that he would never consciously do anything to hurt her.

“I will. I’ve done it before,” his chest begins to heave. “The PTSD. When I came back I nearly choked Cristina to death in her sleep. I was asleep and I couldn’t wake up. She said it didn’t matter, but she was afraid of me. I’ve been having flashbacks, episodes.”

“Riggs?” she asks and he nods at her and she doesn’t push. She doesn’t need to know the whole story. She just needs him to know that she’s not going anywhere no matter what.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me, but I don’t trust myself right now. So you need to stay away from me,” he leans against the table, his arms wrapped so tightly as if he’s protecting himself.

“I’m not afraid of you. There’s nothing you could ever do. I promise,” she assures him. She reaches her hands up to cup his face and he leans into her touch, realizing how much he had missed her too. “I have faith in you. You will get through this. We will get through this,” she says as she brings his head down to her shoulder and she pulls him in tight and she can feel him sobbing beneath her hands.

All right everyone! I’m thinking I’m ending my hiatus today! I need to celebrate! So fluff or angst? Although pretty sure I already know the answer.