Author's Note: Dedicated to all the wonderful people (both here and on Tumblr) who encouraged me to keep writing/update my FanFic!

The ambulance collided with a bang against the white walls of the hospital building and the glass wall to its left shattered upon impact.

The towering stack of paper that had dominated Cristina's desk had now been reduced to mere sheets scattered across the smooth wooden surface. She was exhausted despite the shockingly large amount of caffeine she had ingested. She had become a surgeon to wield a scalpel, not a pen. Her finger now sported a bandaid which covered the nasty-looking paper cut from the manila folder that now lay innocently among the finished pile of paperwork she had finished. Cristina sighed loudly. Being the Head of Cardio had its advantages and disadvantages; good surgeries came with a mountain of paperwork. She already missed the life of being a nomadic surgeon who travelled from hospital to hospital, chasing countless hardcore surgeries across the country. Her phone vibrated loudly against her table, signifying a new message. It was a text from Meredith.

'Bailey's got me on clinic duty. Keep me company? Please?' it read.

Cristina smiled to herself. She was definitely having a bad day, but it looked like she wasn't the only one. She stretched slowly before getting up from her chair. As she walked out, she added the empty coffee cup that lay on her desk to the growing pile in the bin near the door.

Back in the ambulance bay, a deafening silence filled the vicinity as bystanders looked on with expressions of surprise and horror. Shock seemed to have taken away their ability to speak as they stood frozen and immobile. It was almost as if time had suddenly slowed to a stop as thin tendrils of smoke crept out slowly from the twisted metal frame that now bore very little resemblance to an ambulance. Owen found himself flat on the cold concrete floor, lying a mere few feet away from the ambulance, surrounded by glittering fragments of glass that had rained around him when the ambulance had made contact with the wall. Physically, he was unscathed with the exception of a few minor cuts from the shard around him, but mentally, he was already continents away. The loud noise that had erupted from the collision was not unlike that of the bang created when a heavy army truck runs over a roadside bomb. Memories began to flow thick and fast as the mental dam that had held them in his mind broke and Owen soon found himself once again in the thick of it back in Iraq.

Flashback

The hot desert wind whispered quietly around Owen as unforgiving waves of heat clung to his torn and bloody fatigues. His ears wear still ringing from the noise generated by the explosion when their vehicle had stumbled across the roadside bomb. Minutes ago, they had been laughing and joking with a patient in the back of the old army truck when their world literally flipped upside down. Mere seconds later, Owen had found himself being flung out of the vehicle and head first onto the scorching desert sand. Shreds of canvas that had once been the makeshift roof of their truck were now scattered around him as the wind lifted them in a spritely dance.

He felt a hot sticky liquid running down the back of his thigh as he staggered slowly to his feet. His hands made their way across his dusty khakis and down to the source of the flow where his fingers stumbled across a jagged piece of metal that had made its way into his leg. Wincing slightly, he ripped the offending piece of metal out from his leg as blood began to flow freely from the open wound. As he turned to toss the metal aside when a slight movement in his peripheral vision caught caused him to turn sharply. He froze as he struggled to take in the sight before him. The truck that he had been in moments ago was now reduced to a smouldering pile of scrap metal as fine wisps of smoke slid smoothly from what bore very little resemblance to the former military vehicle.

He staggered slowly towards the wreck in a dreamlike state and a cold blanket of dread fell upon him as he stared blankly at the smouldering wreckage, shock numbing every cell in his body. He had been taught to be calm and cool-headed and to methodically approach every problem thrown at him with a quick yet practical solution like a true trauma surgeon. But no amount of trauma training could have prepared him for what lay before him. He stood there in silence as he watched the final trails of smoke creep out from the wreck and disperse into the warm desert air, taking the lives of the other soldiers with it. Time held no meaning as all the remaining energy left in Owen's legs disappeared as he fell to his knees, his mind completely drained of all thoughts and emotions.

End of Flashback

As soon as Cristina walked through the ER doors, she knew that something was wrong. The ER was usually bustling with activity and patients, but now it was filled with an eerie silence and all that could be heard was the soft murmuring of the crowd of patients and doctors alike that had gathered near the entrance. Cristina pushed through the wave of people as she edged swiftly towards the doors, her curiosity growing. To her right, a small group of interns dressed in bright yellow trauma gowns stood numbly near the hospital entrance. She turned and her eyes widened almost immediately in shock as she took in the sight before her. What looked like a crushed ambulance lay crumpled against the hospital wall amidst the glistening mess of glass that was scattered around it. And beside it stood none other than Owen Hunt. Cristina stood there, waiting for the calm and collected Owen she knew to step up and start fixing the mess that lay before her.

'Do something, Owen,' she thought quietly to herself as frustration began to build inside of her. The murmuring of the crowd grew louder behind her and Owen still remained unmoving. 'Damn it,' she cursed mentally.

"Owen," she called softly, hoping to rouse him from his trancelike state.

No response.

"Owen," she called again, her voice a couple of decibels louder than before.

Still no response.

Suddenly, it hit Cristina as she noticed the blankness of his ocean blue eyes; a look she hadn't seen in over two years. In that second she realised despite the fact Owen was physically standing mere feet away, his mind was miles away.

"Dr. Hunt!" Her loud call rang loudly in the vicinity, creating a sudden hush amongst the crowd. Her voice seemed to have dragged Owen's mind back to the present as he jerked suddenly and he looked around, surprise evident on his face as he took in the sight before him. In mere seconds, he had snapped quickly into his trauma surgeon mode and he moved swiftly towards the crowd.

"Someone page Webber. Get the trauma room 1 and 2 ready and get an OR on standby," he called as he grabbed a fresh pair of latex gloves from a nearby nurse. "All unnecessary personnel need to leave now. This place is crowded enough as it is." The crowd remained unmoving as they stared back at him. "Do I need to repeat myself?" asked Owen, this time louder than before.

The group scattered immediately with the exception of a couple of interns, nurses and Cristina.

"What the hell happened here?" demanded Webber as he pushed past the dispersing crowd and came to a stop in front of Owen.

"I don't know. The ambulance was carrying incoming trauma and I was waiting here with a group of interns and Stevens-" Owen broke off immediately as he realised that Izzie was nowhere in sight. "Stevens!" He moved quickly towards the crumpled wreck, ignoring Richard's questioning look. He found Izzie lying unconscious mere inches away from the wreck on the other side of the ambulance with a nasty gash on her head as blood trickled slowly from it. "I need a gurney over here now!" He called as he dragged Izzie swiftly away from the smouldering wreck.

Cristina watched on as Owen loaded Izzie swiftly onto the stretcher with the help of the Chief and two other interns.

"The fire brigade is on its way. We can't do anything until we can get access to the people inside the vehicle," informed Richard as the interns swiftly wheeled the stretcher towards the hospital doors. "Don't worry about Stevens. Bailey'll take care of her," he added, noting the look of concern in Owen's eyes. "Any sign of movement in there?" Richard gestured towards the wreck of metal.

"I don't think so," came Owen's reply as he bent down squinted at the wreck.

"Owen." Cristina's voice came quietly from behind Owen, as if she was trying not to startle him.

"Dr. Yang," he acknowledged without turning around. "You shouldn't be here. This place is going to get very busy soon and we need to clear the area of all unnecessary personnel." His voice was completely devoid of any emotion.

"Yeah right, Owen. Like hell I'm leaving," replied Cristina, her voice incredulous.

"Dr. Yang –" began Owen before the Chief cut him off.

"Let her stay, Hunt. We'll need all the help she can offer," said Richard as he pulled on a set of white latex gloves.

Owen remained silent as they waited for the fire crew to arrive, acting completely oblivious to the look of incredulity radiating from Cristina's direction.

Twenty minutes later, the fire brigade had arrived and begun to slowly peel the wreck apart layer by layer. Patience had never been one of Owen's virtues and his frustration was easily visible in his impatient pacing and frequent glances at the wreckage. Meanwhile, Cristina had resigned herself to sitting on the cold concrete floor with her arms around her knees, her doe brown eyes silently tracking Owen's every move. She should have known he still wasn't whole and healed. She should have noticed the tell-tale signs, but she'd been so caught up in the happy bubble of bliss created by their reunion after two long years of separation. Her eyes trailed slowly back to Owen's pacing figure.

"We've got someone free!"

The loud cry from a fireman broke her train of thoughts and her eyes flickered immediately towards the wreck.

Owen immediately straightened up and move swiftly towards the wreck.

"We'll get him onto the stretcher on my count," he instructed as a gurney was wheeled speedily over. "One, two, three."

"What've we got?" Cristina suddenly appeared beside him.

"See for yourself. Extensive chest injuries, lacerations everywhere and probably a broken femur. Page Torres and book an OR," came Owen's reply, avoiding Cristina's stare as he handed the chart to her. "Looks like your day just got interesting," he remarked darkly before he walked back towards the wreck where the second passenger in the front of the ambulance was being extracted.

Cristina stared after him, dumbfounded. She hadn't expected him to close up so abruptly from her. But now was not the time to argue as they both had jobs to do and lives to save. She shot him one final glance before she followed the stretcher through the doors of the hospital.

One of his patients was already dead by the time they had managed to extract her while the other was only just hanging on by a thread due to a large amount of blood loss. But by the time they had gotten the patient to the OR, he had begun to crash and had been unable to be resuscitated. Owen had called time of death before he snapped off his gloves and disappeared through the scrub room doors with a bang, leaving the nurses to close the man up.

His mind was a mess as he strode down the halls of the hospital. The OR board told him that Cristina was still in surgery. He didn't know where he was headed, but all he knew was that he needed to get out of there and into the open air where the flow of memories would trickle to a stop. As soon as he made it just out of the hospital doors, his pager sounded loudly. His eyes widened slightly. It was from Cristina. OR 2 – STAT. He turned around immediately and walked briskly towards the OR.

He scrubbed in a record-breaking time, grabbing a fresh mask from the pile near the window which he fastened on as he strode into the OR.

The nurse efficiently slipped him into a surgical gown followed by a pair of gloves. "Fill me in," he requested, moving closer to the OR table, stopping next to Cristina.

"He just started crashing and his bleeding from everywhere," came Cristina's reply as her hands moved frantically around the patient's insides. "Can you somehow stabilise him?"

Owen silently nodded, signifying his assent before stretching out his hand. "Clamp."

Owen had managed to stabilise the patient with the help of the green fibrin sealant which replicated the body's clotting process, thus temporarily stopping the bleeders.

"Thank you," breathed Cristina as the patient's BP and heart rate returned to the stable range.

"You're welcome," came Owen's reply as he returned the jar of sealant back to the tray. "Page me if he starts to crash again," he said as he discarded his blue surgical gown into the basket as he headed towards the door.

Cristina merely stared after him. He was starting to avoid her; it was unlike him to just stabilise a patient then leave. He usually hung around until the surgery was over or until he got paged. She sighed softly. It felt like they were back to square one with their relationship and it hadn't even been a week yet.

Cristina's surgery had been a success with the exception of a few minor complications. The patient was stable, but critical so the next twenty fours would be crucial. She watched as the patient was wheeled out of the OR and towards the ICU by a couple of nurses before she too left. She deposited the bloody gloves into the medical waste bin on her way towards the door. She was still wearing her scrub cap as she left the OR when she collided with the figure waiting outside. It was Owen. He had already changed from his scrubs into his signature leather jacket and grey button up shirt. His eyes still carried that haunted look from before, but his expression looked a great deal more controlled.

"Hey." He offered the monosyllabic word with a slightly forced smile.

"Uh hi." She didn't know what else to say. He was the last thing she had expected to be waiting for her when she finished her surgery.

A short pause fell upon them as they stared at each other in silence. "Surgery was good?" he pressed cautiously.

"Yeah, the patient's fine, but still critical." Cristina removed the scrub cap and her wild ebony curls cascaded around her.

Another pause.

"I'll wait for you at the hospital entrance while you get showered and changed," said Owen quietly, brushing his hand gently against hers.

A tingle ran through Cristina's arm like an electric current from the hand Owen touched and spread through her body.

"Okay."

Owen leaned forward and brushed his lips gently against her forehead before turning and heading towards the exit of the hospital.

Cristina stared dumbfounded after him for a split second before she gathered her wits and headed off in the opposite direction to get changed.

"Cristina. Cristina!" Her name rang loudly as she passed a patient's room. Confused, she ducked her head into one of them and saw Izzie sitting up on one of the stretcher beds, sporting a large bandaid that stretched across her forehead.

"Izzie. How are you feeling?" Cristina crossed the room and took a seat in one of the chairs beside the bed.

"Better, although it feels like I just got run over by an ambulance," joked Izzie as she sat up a bit more.

"You didn't exactly get run over, you know," retorted Cristina as she grabbed Izzie's chart from the edge of the bed.

"Only because Hunt saved me," Izzie corrected. "If he hadn't, I probably wouldn't be sitting here talking to you."

Cristina looked up from the chart. This piece of information was new to her. "Owen did what?"

"He yelled and tried to push me out of the way," replied Izzie simply as she reached for the plastic spoon. "Could you pass me the lime jell-o?"

Cristina handed the cup to Izzie wordlessly, her mind lost in thought.

"Anyway, don't you have somewhere to be? You don't have to sit here and keep me company. Alex is off in a few minutes," said Izzie, reaching for the remote. "Go. Go have fun with Dr. Hunt," she teased as she began flicking through the fuzzy channels on the TV.

"Alright. I'll come check up on you tomorrow then." Cristina closed the chart and returned it to its rightful position at the foot of the bed.

"You'll thank your boyfriend properly for me, won't you?" called Izzie suggestively after her.

Cristina merely rolled her eyes in response.

The usually bustling lobby was now emptier now the sun had set completely as Owen sat waiting in one of the hard plastic chairs that lined the walls near the entrance.

"Ready to go?" Cristina suddenly appeared beside Owen, showered and dressed in civilian clothing.

"Yeah. My place tonight?" He wanted to put as much of a distance as he could between himself and the hospital as the events of today had taken quite a toll on him as he felt both mentally and physically drained.

He reached for Cristina's hand, needing some sort of reassurance that he was indeed in the present, not the past.

She was surprised at the sudden contact from Owen, but she didn't show any signs of it. "Okay," she replied as she pulled him to his feet.

He didn't let go of her hand as they walked briskly out the hospital doors and towards Owen's car. The car ride to his apartment was made in silence.

It felt like déjà vu for Cristina as it had been years since she had made this familiar trip. In their years of separation, she had indulged in the occasional fantasy of someday making this exact journey to Owen's apartment, but she hadn't anticipated it'd be a silent one though.

Owen opened the door to his apartment before he slung his jacket over the back of one of the sofas. "Do you want me to cook or order in?"

"I don't mind." Cristina looked around the apartment. An expression of slight surprise crept over her face as she took in her surroundings. Not much had changed; the furniture was still arranged the way it had been two years ago, the same old patterned carpet still lay underneath the varnished coffee table and the walls were still the same creamy white.

"Is pasta okay?" asked Owen, opening the door of the fridge and began pulling out the ingredients he needed.

"Pasta sounds great," replied Cristina as she offered him a small smile. She could tell that today hadn't been easy on Owen and the memory of being brushed off and ignored was still fresh in her mind. Although tonight probably wasn't the best time, they would need to have a talk about everything sometime soon.

After dinner, Owen had gone to load the dishwasher with their plates while Cristina had settled herself on the couch. She heard the patter of footsteps behind her before Owen settled himself beside her, wrapping his arm around her small frame. Immediately, she shifted so that she was more comfortably enveloped in his embrace and she put her ear against his chest and listened to the muffled beats of his heart through his shirt. They sat comfortably in silence for a couple of minutes, each immersed in their own thoughts.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Cristina quietly as she turned to look up at Owen.

His posture immediately stiffened and his eyes darkened ever so slightly. "No."

This was what Cristina had feared the most, Owen slowly closing himself up to her. But she wasn't going to give in just yet.

"When was the last time you saw Dr. Wyatt?" she persisted, not letting him avoid her questioning gaze.

Owen remained silent.

Cristina sighed. It took two to make a relationship work and right now, Owen wasn't contributing at all. She decided to just give him some time and space to recollect his thoughts.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," she said as she got up slowly and reached to grab her jacket from the edge of the sofa. Owen's hand stopped her before she could do so and she turned around to look at him questioningly.

"Wait." He didn't let go of her hand. He struggled for his next words as Cristina stood there staring back at him.

"I haven't seen Dr. Wyatt in a while."

"How long?"

Owen exhaled loudly before answering. "Since you left."

Cristina's eyes widened in surprise. "Seriously, Owen?"

"After you left, I had no reason to go anymore. Teddy never pushed me or said anything so I never went," replied Owen quietly, his blue eyes not leaving her face, monitoring her reactions.

"Okay then." A pause. "Are you going to go back?" Cristina moved closer so she was now standing directly in front of Owen.

"Do you want me to go back?" Owen turned the question back on Cristina.

"Yes." She began to gently caress his face; the smooth surface of her hand savoured the rough feel of his stubbled face. "I want you to go back."

"Okay," he said as he gently pulled her back onto the couch, burying his face in the dip of her shoulder. No more words needed to be exchanged between the pair as they had reached a mutual understanding and agreement. Cristina was the thing that mattered most in his life, and he would go to great lengths to keep her. He detested the idea of having to go back to Dr Wyatt's office for exhausting long hours of therapy and recollections of memories he'd rather forget, but Cristina was worth enduring every second of it.