CHAPTER ONE: Ceiling Fan

Recommended Song For This Chapter: Fly Down by Stephen

Cristina groaned as her alarm went off for the third time. She was tempted to press snooze but she forced her legs out of the warm covers and slammed her hand over the off button. She glared up at the ceiling and the now bladeless ceiling fan. She could not describe what possessed her to take her fan apart. It was not like Owen was here. What did it matter if the fan has blades or not? It made no difference to her.

One day he'll come back

She knew that part of that statement hinged on her letting him come back. For the first week apart, he was cold and ignored her as much as possible. He was ashamed and scared. Cristina discovered that he was seeing a therapist when one of the psych nurses let it slip. But the silence ended with 'take care now'. They weren't the exact words but she knew after that day that he loved her. And it was cruel. No- torture, for the universe to force their lives to collide then rip them apart.

How's it going with your shrink?

She still cared. And it killed her to still care. She tried not to let the dying teenager's voice infiltrate her head. Dana and Owen were not the same person. And Dana died, so it wasn't like their story was perfect. Cristina and Owen's was definitely not. Yet, when she felt his hand sliding down her arm, trying to comfort despite the callouses and the war wounds… She wanted to fall back into him. Would it be so wrong? But she had to hold herself up. She refused to be hurt again. She refused to ever see his face crumble like it did after the choking.

But he was just so damn irresistible especially when he was being a trauma badass and saving little children. It had been so long without his touch and she was dying to reach up and feel the scruff that used to leave delicious burns on her skin. She had snuck down to the pit today to see him, even though she had not been on his service since the incident. She observed him casually leaning against the ER nurses station, instructing the residents in the pit today. She wanted him. Damnit.

He's got issues.

Meredith didn't have to tell her twice. Cristina knew intimately about his issues. The man had not contacted his mom in all the time he's been back. He seemed to think it was because he needed to go back. She wanted to scream at him for being such a reckless heroic idiot. But she couldn't. What place did she have to tell him what he needed? She saw him. He was not okay. He was scared. But he was also passionate and true despite all of these things weighing down on him.

See me.

She met his eyes and for a second time stopped. "I don't want you to die." She shuddered at her own honesty but played it off as the cold wind's fault.

"Come with me."

And she couldn't refuse.

She climbed into his blue pickup truck like she did for so many days when they were together. She filled the silence with his Jimmy Hendrix CDs.

Who is this?

Owen's mother was a kind woman. Her silver hair suited her pale complexion and blue eyes. Cristina introduced herself and it did not help that Owen's eyes were the exact same blue.

"Cristina Yang. I work with Owen at Seattle Grace."

Cristina's mother smiled and welcomed her in. The house was small and cluttered with picture frames and magazines, but the house struck Cristina as having more warmth than her California mansion. In the living room, Owen's mother took her place in a fading armchair while Cristina and Owen sat on either side of the matching couch. The set up felt oddly like couple's therapy. There was a permanent dip in the middle of the couch, no doubt from Mrs. Hunt sitting in that spot so many nights to watch television. Owen and Cristina found themselves sliding into the center of the couch and had to adjust themselves so they remained at a respectful distance.

Cristina felt uncomfortable watching Owen's mother break down at his stories of the before. The loss of his team. The choking. She excused herself to the restroom and lingered in the long hallway. The walls were filled with pictures of Owen, and presumably his sister, when he was young. She found herself smiling at the six-year-old Owen decked out in his baseball uniform, then the thirteen Owen looking bored in a family wedding photo. There were pictures of his father here and there, but they seemed to drop out as Owen got older. The last photo on the wall was Owen in his army uniform next to his sister who was also wearing an army uniform. There were less lines on his face. He was smiling boyishly at the camera with his arm slung lazily over his sister's shoulders. She had not seen that smile except for the moments when she would roll on top of him in the morning and smile suggestively. Or that moment when he left her sitting on the exam table after kissing her. It was strange to see him so free.

It was a couple of hours and a full dinner later that Owen and Cristina finally left Evelyne's home.

"You're always welcome here." Evelyne said kindly before embracing Cristina again. They were about the same height but because of Evelyne's slight hunch, Cristina had to bend her knees to properly accept the hug. She inhaled the woman's old woman perfume and tried to smile. She was not used to this kind of maternal treatment and she never was one for hugging.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hunt. It was great to meet you." Cristina replied.

"Thank you, Cristina. Thank you for being there for Owen." Evelyne said squeezing her shoulder.

When they broke apart, she met eyes with Owen, who was looking at her softly. She melted under that look. He knew that this was hard for her. The socializing, the smiling. Pretending to be his girlfriend. She found herself taking his hand as they walked out and enjoyed his touch.

The drive to Cristina's apartment was silent. She was exhausted and tomorrow she had the early shift. She practiced her rounds in her head until Owen broke the silence.

"Do you need me to pick you up tomorrow or-"

"No. I'll get a ride from Callie" said Cristina carefully. She watched his face fall a little. She turned her gaze forward and watched the car pull up outside her apartment building. There were a thousand things she probably should have said in that moment. But all of them either sounded like things he didn't deserve to hear or things he already knew.

Turning towards him she said- "I'm glad you saw your mom."

"Me, too."

"I'm glad-I'm glad I got to meet her." Cristina continued watching his face. "Owen-"

She was cut off. His lips were on hers and she had actually forgotten how good a kisser he was. She found herself responding despite her better sense. And she almost lets those three words slip out. The break apart and Cristina lets her hand rest on his cheek while his hand caressed the back of her neck.

"I want to move forward." He whispered moving his eyes up to meet hers. She doesn't respond. She doesn't know how to. She had no answers. This was too much. He pulled himself back into his seat then unlocked the door. She stepped out onto the street, face still flushed from his kiss. She tried to smile in spite of herself and waved goodbye to him.

I love him.

She thought helplessly to herself.

Thank you for reading!