#oweliafics

So this story got such a good feedback from you guys, I definitively wasn’t expecting it. Thank you so much!! 💜💜💜💜

Here is the part 2 some of you asked for! Hope it was worth the wait!

Part 1 can be found here (x), if you need a reminder. 

How Does A Moment Last Forever II

Meredith looked at the ultrasound screen and saw what looked to be a blurry image of a tiny baby.

“Congratulations?”

Amelia’s world stopped. Breathe Amelia, just breath. – she told herself. She felt Owen’s grip on her hand tightening and his voice calling her name. She could hear the confusion, the questions and the surprise.

But all she could do was look at Alex Karev, knowing he would understand the look in her eye.

---“---

“Alright, everybody out!” One by one, the others started leaving the room, Meredith being the last, but not before gently squeezing Amelia’s shoulder, letting the neurosurgeon know she was there for whatever she needed.

Amelia closed her eyes, grateful for Alex’s attitude, taking charge of the situation.

“Amelia?” Owen was still holding onto her hand, with no intention of letting go. “Amelia, wha-“

“Hunt, out!”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Alex sighed. He was never a fan of the trauma surgeon. “Look, this is her business. Not yours. You’re not her husband anymore, you made sure of it, that was your choice. So, get out!”

Owen clenched his fists and took one last look at Amelia, who still had her eyes closed, and reluctantly left the room. He still felt like he had a right, on some level, to be there, after all, she was pregnant with his baby, he hoped so. But as much as he hated it, Karev was right. He wasn’t her husband anymore. And not for the first time, his stomach tightened at the notion.

“Is everyone gone?”

Owen was getting on her last nerve. Sure, she loved her brother and missed him immensely over the past ten years, but there was only so much she could take.

Ten years changed a person. They both changed. And while their old dynamic continued organically, they still weren’t the same people they’d always been, but neither of them would bring it up. Who would after what they’d both been through?

Regardless, he shouldn’t be with her right now. As much as she also couldn’t stand Amelia, she was his wife and he needed to be with her. Currently, Owen wouldn’t sit still. First he was sitting in the chair beside her bed, then he was pacing maniacally at the foot of her bed, then he was taking deep breaths in and out before he’d sit back down in the chair.

After he did this for about the thousandth time, Megan finally started to lose her calm demeanor.

“Dude. Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asked, slight concern on his face.

“Your heavy breathing. It’s seriously creepy.” After a moment. “Is Amelia awake?”

“Yeah. She woke up about an hour ago.” About the time he had come back to her room and his incessant habits started.

“And so naturally you’re here with me.”

“Don’t start this again.”

“I thought I knew you better than that Owen. But maybe not. Since you’re natural instinct is to just run away and avoid all of your problems instead of facing them head on.” She continued as she could see Owen’s face turning red and she was hoping she’d infuriate him enough that he’d leave her alone. “You two were made for each other, you know that?”

“You’re driving me insane!” Owen raised his voice as he continued pacing.

“Right back at ya! I’m sure she’d like to see you.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t. She’s in a lot of pain. I think she’d rather just be alone.”

“Oh my God. You are THE dumbest person on the planet. I was alone for ten years. And I’m seriously screwed up. You already seem screwed up beyond repair. Both of you do. Maybe it’s time to start healing.”

At that moment, Maggie knocked on Megan’s outer door and motioned for Owen to step out. He could tell that Maggie had been crying and immediately thought the worst.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?” Owen asked as he closed the door behind him and immediately crossed his arms, his go-to defense mechanism when he didn’t actually want to know the truth.

“Yes and no. She’s in a lot of pain. I need you to convince her to take something. Please. I can’t stand to see her like this it’s killing me.”

Owen raised his eyebrows at her. He knew Amelia would never take painkillers, even if it’d save her life. He knew how much sobriety meant to her and that if she did cave in and take something now that she’d regret it. Nevertheless, he followed Maggie to Amelia’s recovery room. Day 1 was  always the hardest.

He peered in at Amelia, her head wrapped. Lying on her right side, her hands gripping the pillows like a lifeline, all of her muscles so tense. Simultaneously holding her breath as tears rolled down her cheeks.

He stepped in as quietly as he could manage, then lowered the rail of her bed. He hoped this would work and she wouldn’t reject him. He stepped up and laid down, his chest pressing slightly into her back, careful of his movements so he wouldn’t jostle her.

He placed his mouth close to her ear and began to whisper to her.

“Amelia, it’s me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need the medicine. You’re so strong - the strongest person I know. Pain is temporary. This is temporary.” He covered her hands with his, loosening her grip so she would grab onto his hand instead. “Take some deep breaths. And relax the rest of your body.”

As he spoke softly to her, he could feel her grip began to lessen on his hand as her breaths began to even out and he could tell she was no longer sobbing. He could feel her whole body begin to relax under his touch and eventually Amelia drifted off to sleep.

That night, Owen slept in the chair beside her bed, keeping a close watch over her. Watching her sleep, he could tell that the pain was lessening minute by minute and she looked peaceful.

Owen watched over her until DeLuca came in for his check and Amelia began to stir. Amelia opened her eyes just in time to see him exit her room.

To be continued...?

Holding On

The rain had settled over Seattle, casting a cool gray blanket over the city, and now, standing on the threshold of her new life, Amelia felt its weight. She pushed her damp hair behind her ears, her mind a dizzying blend of sterile operating rooms and crumpled day planners. Today was the day she was slated to begin her new role as one of the leading neurosurgeons at Grey Sloan. But all she could focus on was the tiny hand clutching her leg.

“Mommy, no,” Ryan’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it sliced through her resolve like a knife. His large, doe-like blue eyes bore into hers, pleading and filled with an earnestness that tugged at her heart. He was barely two, and this city might as well have been a foreign land to him.

“Oh, buddy,” Amelia knelt to his level, smoothing his tousled blond hair. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She wrapped her arms around his small frame, feeling the warmth of his little body. It broke her heart to feel him shiver under the looming fear of abandonment. It was only a few hours at a time, but to Ryan, it felt monumental.

Ever since they’d arrived from Los Angeles, Ryan had struggled with this separation anxiety, and the moment she stepped out the door, his confidence faltered like a candle flickering against the wind. First came the quiet pleas, followed by the louder protests, and eventually, the full-on tantrums, leaving Amelia feeling like a monster each time her work called her away.

“Play?” he asked, his voice cracking like thunder, as if he could turn her heart into play dough.

“Just for a few minutes,” Amelia promised, knowing she had to leave. Bills were stacking, and her brother’s old job was a lifeline for the two of them. For her fragile independence, and for Ryan’s stability. She pushed those worries aside, desperately focusing on the small joys they could have before she slipped away into the world of scalpel and stitches.

For the next twenty minutes, Amelia transformed into a whirlwind of pretend games and laughter. They played doctor and patient, building towers with blocks, with Ryan laughing in a way that illuminated the dream house. Just for a while, they were wrapped in a bubble of love and warmth, a transient world where the specter of work didn’t exist.

But then, as shadows grew longer in the room, the moment came. With a final squeeze of his hand, she kissed the top of his head, promising once more she would be back soon.

The front door clicked shut behind her, but the sounds of Ryan’s wails pierced through the silence of the stairwell, followed by Meredith attempting to soothe them. Her chest tightened. Walking away never got easier.

At the hospital, though she was engulfed by the relentless chaos of life and death, part of her remained tethered to him. The fidgeting interns, the brisk nurses, and the patter of doctors' shoes all faded into a dull thrum as her mind turned back to her son. Each time she scrubbed in for a surgery, she envisioned Ryan’s face, the innocence and need in his eyes.

The surgeries went well, her hands steady as always. Yet when she returned home, the darkness had already encroached. Ryan’s whimpering echoed through the house, and as she stepped inside, he was perched on the couch, tears staining his cheeks.

“Mommy!” he cried, launching himself into her arms like a small missile.

“Oh, sweet boy,” she murmured, pulling him close, breathing in his familiar scent. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

For the next hour, he clung to her, evading every attempt she made to set him down. When Owen rang the doorbell, she frowned but welcomed him in, hoping he would help Ryan ease his anxiety. He had always known how to bring laughter into their lives.

“Hey there, little dude!” Owen bent down, an easy charm lighting up his face. “Wanna see something cool?”

Ryan peered from behind Amelia, silent but curious.

“How about my magic card trick?” Owen offered, pulling a deck from his back pocket.

Amelia watched, torn between gratefulness and the small flicker of resentment. Why did it seem easier for everyone to engage with her son but her? Sometimes she felt like an island adrift in a sea of overwhelming emotion—tides of love, fear, and loss crashing against her.

The trick captivated Ryan, attention shifted from his mother to Owen, who performed one sleight of hand after another. Laughter filled the room, but Amelia remained partially distracted.

After the trick, Ryan approached Amelia again, apprehension showing on his young face. “Can you stay?” he asked, but his quiet words trembled.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” she said softly. “Owen's just going to help me cook dinner, okay?”

Owen, sensing the shifting undercurrents, smiled reassuringly and participated fully, fixing a simple meal that absorbed Ryan's attention while Amelia darted to the kitchen, attempting to breathe through the sense of dread niggling at her heart.

As dinner consumed her fears, they laughed and told stories, Ryan gradually warming up to the easy camaraderie. Yet when it came time for bed, the familiar dread sank in again. Ryan clung to her once more, eyes wide with worry.

“Read?” he pleaded, curling into her side as she settled into bed with him, cradling him like an infant in her arms.

“Of course, buddy.” She opened a well-worn book, her fingers brushing over the pages. The words danced between them, a lullaby of narrative that worked like a bandage over both their souls, mending the fragility of their separation.

Each night, it became their ritual. A nightly escape, weaving together a world where shadows held no power, where love conquered all.

Yet as the moon cast a silver glow on their little haven, doubts loomed large. She knew the struggle wouldn’t magically fade. She could only hope he learned to find strength in her absence, that he would feel secure in her love.

As Amelia softly closed the book, she whispered a promise into Ryan’s ear, “Tomorrow, we’ll conquer the world together, just you and me.”

And Ryan, heavy-lidded with sleep, murmured back softly, “Together, forever.”

When Amelia walked into her wedding reception, she was simply happy to see her family gathered together to celebrate her special day. She couldn’t wait to dance, laugh, and catch up with her sisters Nancy, Kate, and Liz, as well as her mother, Carolyn.

But as the night went on, Amelia realized that her family had other plans. They were determined to remind her of the moment she almost ditched Owen at the altar and use it as a pressure point in almost every conversation.

Nancy was the first to bring it up, casually mentioning it in a conversation about the weather.

“Remember how it was pouring rain on your wedding day, Amelia? Almost like the universe was trying to tell you something,” she said with a smirk.

Amelia rolled her eyes and tried to brush off the comment, but Kate couldn’t resist chiming in.

“Yeah, and then you ran off and left Owen standing there like a sad puppy. I’m surprised he still wanted to marry you after that,” she said, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

Amelia felt her face flush with embarrassment. She had been struggling with her addiction at the time and it had caused her to make a rash decision. But she had worked through it and she and Owen were stronger than ever.

Liz, the youngest of the sisters, joined in on the teasing.

“And let’s not forget how you were about to leave Seattle without even telling anyone. Poor Owen had to chase you down at the airport. How romantic,” she said sarcastically, raising her glass of champagne.

Carolyn, who had been quiet up until this point, couldn’t resist adding her two cents.

“I have to say, I was very disappointed in you, Amelia. I raised you better than that. Leaving a man at the altar is just not something a Shepherd woman does,” she scolded.

Amelia had had enough. She stood up from the table, her fists clenched in anger.

“That’s enough. I made a mistake, a big one. But I’ve apologized to Owen and we’ve moved on. It’s time for all of you to do the same,” she said firmly.

Her family was taken aback by her outburst, but they could see the pain in her eyes. They all apologized to Amelia and she could see the genuine remorse in their faces.

If Amelia had to guess when she and Owen might’ve conceived the twins, it would’ve been the day their sink actually broke. It was a couple days after the gala, a Monday, and Amelia thought she’d have the house to herself. At least, that’s what Owen told her last night. He assured her she could sleep late and not worry about getting the kids ready for school, which was true; there were no kids in the house as she ventured through it. But, as she stopped by the kitchen to make some coffee, she saw a pair of legs sticking out from under their kitchen sink. Owen hadn’t noticed her presence yet, so she took her time ogling at the way his arms flexed while he attempted to pull out one of the pipes. She didn’t know why, but the sight of him sweating as he exerted himself arose a primal response in her.

10th June 2019.

Owen randomly awoke at 3am to an empty bed, Amelia nowhere in sight. He looked over at her side, at how empty it looked, and felt as though he had something to do with it. Maybe she was uncomfortable sleep next to him, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted to find her.

He sat up in bed, hearing a faint sniffle as he did so. Unsure of where it was coming from, Owen remained silent, listening to see if he’d hear the noise again, and he did. It sounded like it was coming from the bathroom, but the lights were off. Regardless, he decided he’d investigate.

He entered the bathroom and turned on the lights, only to find Amelia on the floor by the toilet, crying with a roll of toilet paper in her hand. As soon as she recognised him, she began quickly wiping away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks.

“Sorry,” he quickly said, feeling like he was in her personal space, “I was just worried about where you went.” He stood awkwardly at the door, unsure of what to do or say. “Is…Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” she answered honestly. She squinted at the sudden brightness in the bathroom. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” he said, turning off the light. He then proceeded to sit across from her, on the floor of the bathroom. “We won’t talk about it, then.” He couldn’t see it, but Amelia was looking at him suspiciously, trying to figure out what he was up to. “Can I at least ask if it was a bad dream or something?”

“You can’t ask,” she said, “But no, it wasn’t.”

“So you just occasionally come into the bathroom to cry on the floor, then?” he lightly joked, stretching out his legs in front of him, the tips of his toes a few centimetres away from her crossed legs.

“Pretty much,” she smiled, wiping her cheeks with the toilet paper again, “Motherhood does that to you.”

“I think it’s more than that,” he accurately described, “But we’re not supposed to be talking about it, remember?” As his eyesight adjusted, he was beginning to see the outline of her small figure, huddled next to the toilet.

He heard a small giggle. “We’re not talking about it,” she confirmed, sighing after.

“So you like ice cream,” he hummed, changing the topic in hopes of raising her spirits, “What other sweet stuff do you like?”

“I can’t think of any right now, but I have an unhealthy obsession with pancake syrup,” she conveyed. He could finally see her face in the dark, and she was smiling.

He smiled. “What about skittles?”

“Jolly ranchers,” she corrected him, “And gummy worms; the sour kind.” Her legs stretched out and bumped into the sides of his knees as she relaxed a little more. “Especially on chocolate ice cream.”

“What, like a dirt cup?” he asked, feigning disgust while also grinning.

“Exactly like a dirt cup,” she confirmed, a short laugh escaping her lips. Owen watched as she mindlessly fiddled with the foot of his pyjama pants, the action painfully familiar to him. “How are the memories going?”

“Nothing solid, just feelings,” he said, mesmerized by the way his fabric curled around her fingers so delicately, like she was afraid to rip his pants. “Some of the things you and the kids do seem familiar, but I don’t remember anything specific.” She nodded, remaining focused on playing with his pant.

“Does this mean you know what I like too?” he asked.

There was a coy smile on her face as she nodded. “All the boring, sugar free, follow the rules, child-safe stuff.”

He laughed. “That sounds exactly like me.”

“Well, you break the rules sometimes,” she relented, softly adding, “For me.”

“I wouldn’t doubt that,” he agreed, “You have a very manipulative way about you.”

“I do,” she confirmed, smiling to herself. There was a brief silence between them for a little bit before Owen broke it once more.

“I want to meet the twins,” he announced with conviction, “For real, this time.”

Amelia stopped fiddling with his pant to look up at him now, looking into his eyes for any falter in them. When she found none, she answered, “Okay. I’ll call Callie tomorrow.” Right after she said it, she yawned, stretching her body all the way down to her toes.

“Tired?” he inquired, a little sad that their conversation would probably be ending soon. She nodded, doing something that caught him completely off guard. She crawled her way over to him, lodging herself in between his legs, and wrapped an arm around his torso, snuggling her head against his chest.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her eyes closed. She could suddenly feel his heart racing beneath her ear.

“I-I’m right here,” he managed to stutter, his face quickly turning red. He hoped she didn’t notice, or at least didn’t pay too much attention to it.

“I know,” she sighed, opening her eyes briefly, “But you’re not really here, you know?” She glanced at him, still snuggled against his chest. “Not to mention this is weird, seeing as I’m the one who divorced you.”

“Yeah,” he snorted, unable to deny the urge to wrap his arms around her too. “Although that isn’t the weirdest thing to arise from this situation. Try being me.”

“Yeah,” she giggled, yawning again as she closed her eyes.

---

The bathroom was hot and there was a considerable amount of steam, fogging the bathroom mirror and the transparent shower glass. He could hear Amelia talking to him, calming him down, as she showered. He was saying something about an incident at work that had pissed him off so much that he could barely think straight. He was sitting on the toilet, trying to calm down when he heard her ask him to come in the shower with him. He’d denied her request, telling her that he was too mad to even think about sex right now, but she was persistent.

“Owen,” he heard Amelia say, “Come in the shower.”

“Please,” he heard himself saying, “Not right now.”

“Owen,” she called again.

He then heard himself raising his voice at her. “Amelia, I said-” His voice caught in his throat. There she was, hands pressed against the glass of the shower, her breasts right over them and covering her nipples, leaving so little to his imagination. There was a smug smile on her face, her hair sexily soaked from the water.

“Come. In. The. Shower,” she said slowly. She didn’t need to ask again.

He quickly shredded himself of his clothes, reaching for the door handle of the shower and stepping into the steam emanating from it. He had his hands on her hips and, as the steam was about to dissipate…

He woke up.

For a moment, he looked around, completely disoriented. Then he remembered he and Amelia had fallen asleep in the bathroom, although she was no longer in his arms now.

“What a tease,” Owen said to himself, referring to how cruel his mind had been to cut the dream, or memory, as it was getting interesting.  Right after, he made his way downstairs where he assumed Amelia would be. The sun was now beginning to rise, as it was still a little dark in the kitchen.

As he entered the kitchen, he was met with the painful image of Amelia trying to reach something at the top of the cabinet, the item being just out of reach. What made the image so painful was the fact that she was only in a shirt and underwear, and the shirt was short enough that he could see her perky butt sticking out from under it every time she reached for whatever was at the top of the cupboard. He wanted to be respectful, yet he couldn’t help but stare at her ass. Soon, he found that his boxers were getting uncomfortable and, upon investigation, he realised he’d gotten an instant boner.

“Got it,” Amelia whispered triumphantly, finally getting the box of pancake mix. It was then she turned around and noticed Owen awkwardly hiding behind the wall. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” Owen asked, pointing at himself, “I wasn’t doing anything.” She furrowed her eyebrows at him and walked over to where he was. Quickly, Owen tucked his erection downwards and covered the area by casually holding his hands over it.

It took her almost no time at all to realise what was going on. “Were you staring at me?”

He inhaled anxiously, holding his breath. “Yes?”

Amelia bit the inside of her cheek, looking him up and down before realising how strategically placed his hands were. “Did you get a boner staring at me?”

Exhaling in defeat, Owen sadly announced, “Yes…” He was beginning to hate how intelligent she was.

Amelia smiled, biting her bottom lip to hide how flattered she actually was. Wordlessly, she turned away, heading back to the kitchen to continue her task, as if nothing happened. Owen was at a loss for words, but he was sure of one thing.

MERRY FICMAS Day ONEEE. My exams just finished so I’m starting a little late haha. Can’t believe this is the third year I’m doing this. Time flies.

Amelia had vomited twice in her OR, once during the Herman surgery and once due to morning sickness. She’d finished the hardest part of the surgery and the overwhelming relief at not killing her patient had caused an overwhelming need to throw up. It had happened to Derek before, so she wasn’t surprised that she’d taken after him in that aspect of anxiety. But today, she was simply clipping an aneurysm, a small one too. There was no anxiety, so no need to vomit, and no morning sickness. Yet, she felt nauseous. Something wasn’t right…

“Dr. Shepherd?” DeLuca called, “Is everything alright? You look pale.”

“I’m white, DeLuca. Of course I look pale.” She blinked slowly, trying her best to control her nausea and now trying to keep her sudden dizziness at bay.

Andrew blushed beneath his surgical mask. “I-I know. You just look paler…and clammy.”

“I said I’m…” Amelia winced as she felt something that she could only call a contraction. Fear surged through her as she waited for the pain to subside. She was barely past the first trimester; there was no way she could have these babies now. Either it was Braxton Hicks, which had come too early, unlikely, or she was having a miscarriage.

“Should I call Dr. Hunt?” he asked, not missing her wince from pain.

She was about to say yes, but she felt the bile rising in her throat. Uttering in the softest way possible, she said, “Someone take off my mask.”

“What did you say, doctor?” a nurse inquired.

Amelia stepped away from the patient, barely maintaining her balance as she loudly announced, “Take off my mask!” When no one moved, probably out of confusion, Amelia broke scrub to tear the thing off her face, lurching over to empty the contents of her stomach almost immediately after. The room was spinning madly now as she stared at the floor where she’d just puked.

“Shepherd, are you okay?” Andrew asked, quickly coming to her side, “Somebody page Hunt!”

“I’m okay,” she said, standing up straight again, “Probably ate something bad.” She reached for the small table next to her that held all her instruments, hoping to regain her balance there, but the second she grabbed the table, it slipped away from her and she lost her balance, going headfirst into the tray of instruments before crashing to the ground and passing out.

---

When she opened her eyes, she was met with the worried gaze of her husband, his eyes filled to the brim with tears threatening to fall. In the background, she could see Arizona moving a probe around her stomach.

“Owen,” she managed to squeak out of her dry throat.

“Don’t speak,” he told her, caressing her hair, “Robbins is gonna get you checked out, okay?”

She nodded her head, regretting it when she felt the dizziness coming back. “Dizzy…”

“I know,” he said, “You hit your head pretty hard.”

“She shook her head. “Dizzy before…”

“That’s because you have appendicitis,” Arizona chirped, “The twins are fine; no need to worry.”

Owen breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I’m gonna go sort out her paperwork and then we can get her prepped for surgery,” she said before leaving, closing the door behind her. Owen turned his attention back to his ailing wife, the tears finally falling as he worried over her.

“No crying,” she muttered, closing her eyes.

“Well then stop trying to kill yourself,” he darkly joked, “First it was the car accidents, now this?”

“I’m fine,” she told him, gesturing him to sit on the stool.

“No, you’re not,” he said, taking a seat, “The universe keeps trying to take you away from me and I don’t know why or how to stop it.” He burrowed his head in her chest, taking her free hand and wrapping it around his neck. “I can’t lose you, Amelia. I won’t make it.” She knew he was referring to the car accident that had almost taken her life, but she was surprised that he was still so affected by it. “I won’t.” He tightened his grip around her upper arm, muffling his tears in her patient gown.

“Not going,” she managed to say besides the fact that her throat felt like sandpaper.

“You better not,” he told her, “As soon as you’re out of surgery, I’m bubble wrapping you.”