#rymeliafics

16th June 2019.

Owen awoke to an empty bed. At first, he was a little disappointed, but then the smell of pancake mix wafted into the bedroom, letting him know that she was downstairs making breakfast. He smiled to himself, thinking that he’d take a shower in the meantime.

Once he finished, and had thrown on a loose shirt and sweatpants, he ventured downstairs to greet the rest of his family. His family, he thought, smiling even wider, look at that; I have a family. The second he came into the kitchen, his eyes met with Amelia’s first, and they shared a fond smile with one another.

“Waffles?” she offered, handing him a plate. Owen gladly took it from her, sitting down in between Ryan and Rosie, while the twins sat in their high chairs, making a mess of the baby food in front of them.

“What are you drawing there?” Owen asked Rosie, looking over her shoulder.

“It’s a surprise,” the little two year old giggled, using her tiny arms to cover the page.

Amelia came home at 9 that night, getting stuck in a surgery and having to cancel on whatever plan Owen had in mind to celebrate her birthday. She was disappointed, but the hospital wouldn’t stop running just because it was her birthday, and her patient needed her. Sighing, she plopped down onto the living room couch and cocked her head back, closing her eyes. She opened her eyes when she heard someone clear their throat and there, upside down in her vision, was Owen, staring down at her with a sympathetic smile. He was fully dressed in a tuxedo, clearly expecting to take her out tonight.

“Still up for your birthday dinner?” he asked.

“That Chinese place is probably closed by now,” she sadly admitted, not wanting to rain on his parade; he was dressed so nicely.

“I ordered takeout,” he said with a grin, “Come out back.” He held his hand out for her and she couldn’t say no; not that she wanted to. Once they’d gotten closer to their destination, Owen covered her eyes with his hands.

“Get ready,” he said once they’d reached the deck. Slowly, he pulled his hands away and she opened her eyes. A huge smile overtook her face as she saw the lit candles, the fancily covered table, the cheap looking boxes of Chinese food that she was so familiar with, and her two children, Ryan and Rosie, dressed in a matching tuxedo and dress, with no shoes to match, respectively. Owen remembered what Rosie had said this morning and figured it would be nice to include them in the birthday surprise this year. The two kids were ecstatic about spending the evening with their mom, and getting to stay up past bed time.

“Happy Birthday!” the two kids exclaimed, holding their gifts in their hands.

“Owen,” she whispered, feeling tears come to her eyes as she looked at the view in front of her.

“No crying on your birthday,” he murmured in her ear, “Only smiles.” He gently guided her towards the two children and Amelia stooped to their level.

“Here,” Rosie proudly announced, handing Amelia the drawing she’d created this morning, “Ry didn’t help me this time.”

“This is so beautiful,” Amelia told the little girl, pulling her in for a tight hug, “Thank you.” Ryan walked forward next presenting his gift in a tiny jewellery box. Amelia took the box from him and opened it, revealing an anklet that appeared to be slightly homemade, but the charms seemed to be purchased.

Her eyes watered as she looked at it. “Where did you get this?”

“I bought it when I went on the field trip,” he explained with a shy smile.

“I gave you that money to buy something for yourself, Ry,” she laughed, a tear finally falling. The boy shrugged, clearly not bothered. Amelia hugged him tight, momentarily feeling no guilt at the fact that he was her favourite.

“Let’s eat, huh?” she told the two children. They didn’t move, smiling expectantly at her, and Amelia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Owen cleared his throat, catching her attention. Standing up slowly, heart racing in her chest, Amelia turned to face him.

“I was told that Chinese food and dirt cups weren’t enough of a gift,” he said. Pulling out the gift from behind his back, he stuttered, “I know we haven’t been on good terms for a while, and the whole accident thing has made it so much harder for you, that I have made things so hard for you, but I think it’s important that you feel special, at least on your birthday.” He handed her the small box, and she opened it, a pair of diamond studs staring back at her. “I checked your dresser, so I know for sure you don’t have those kinds,” he reinforced. Amelia smiled as she stared back at the earrings.

“And you don’t find that a little creepy?” she questioned, gazing at him suspiciously, still smiling.

His entire face turned red. “Uh…”

“It’s okay,” she assured him, making him exhale in relief.

“This is also for you,” he told her, handing her a gift bag, “Something the kids and I chose out; a gift from all of us. I’d like to hard that it’s incredibly difficult to venture the mall with four kids.” Amelia laughed in agreement, took the bag from him and stuck her hand in, feeling fabric. Slowly, she pulled the garment out, revealing it to be a knee length, black dress; sleeveless with no back.

She blushed as she looked at the dress. “Owen…”

“Now you can fit in with the rest of us, mommy,” Rosie exclaimed, referring to their fancy clothes.

“You want me to wear this now?” Amelia wondered aloud, looking between the three family members. They all looked at her as if she asked a stupid question, nodding their heads slowly. She looked back at the dress and sighed, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Okay.” She took the dress, and her other gifts, and disappeared inside. Owen watched with a distracted gaze until she was out of sight.

“Aren’t you gonna go help?” Ryan inquired.

Owen looked back at the little boy and his face turned red again. “Uh, I don’t think she needs it, it doesn’t have a zip.”

“You have to tell her she’s pretty,” Rosie spelled out for him, “Duh, daddy.”

“Yeah, that’s how you used to help,” Ryan confirmed, shooing him with his hands, “Hurry up.” Owen nodded, reinvigorated by the encouragement of his children, and disappeared inside the house.

“I like this daddy more,” Rosie disclosed to her brother, once Owen was out of sight, “I hope he stays.”

Ryan looked down at her younger half and smiled. “Me too.”

---

“Oh, the twins fell asleep waiting up for you,” Owen said as he knocked and entered the bedroom, “Need any help?” He stopped in his tracks when he saw her in the dress, looking in the mirror. “Wow,” he muttered.

“It fits perfectly,” she whispered as she twisted and turned, eyeing the way it fit her figure. She turned to face him and smiled. “What do you think?”

He couldn’t stop looking at the dress as he walked towards her. “I…” He tried to look up at her face, but his eyes went back to the dress. “You look…” She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to kiss him. His hands went to her waist, pulling her to him as her fingers combed through his hair. The next thing he knew, Amelia had broken the kiss and pushed him onto the bed, straddling him. Once there, she kissed him again, tugging on his tie and loosening it.

“Kids,” he mumbled against her lips before she could pull off his tie and go any further, “Downstairs.”

“Right,” she laughed. She pulled away, still seated in his lap, as she readjusted his tie. Once done, the two shared a fond gaze and electricity passed between them, eyes equally as dilated.

“You look amazing, by the way,” he said, suddenly finding back his words.

“I hated you,” she admitted, wiping tears from her cheeks again. In a softer voice, she added, “I think I still do.”

Her words hit him hard. He held his face in his hands, unsure of how to process the information she’d just told him. “What was Megan telling me?”

Amelia shrugged. “You never talked about it. All I know is that your mom visited a couple times with you.”

Owen fought to catch his breath, suddenly feeling the walls closing around him. “I…I need to leave.” He stood up, haphazardly looking around for his car keys.

Confusion and hurt written all over her face, she said, “Owen, don’t leave. Where are you gonna go?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, feeling on the verge of a panic attack. He felt like he was having an out of body experience, like the Owen that his ex-wife had just described was a completely different person. But no, it was him. He said and did all those cruel things to her, to his family and friends, and the worst part was that he couldn’t figure out why. “I just need to go.” He stormed out of the kitchen and, before Amelia could grab onto him and beg him one more time to stay, he was gone. A deep feeling of dread filled her entire being as she stared at their front door. History was repeating itself. She was unfortunately right when she told Derek that people didn’t change.

15th June 2019.

“Amy?” Derek called as he entered the empty skills lab, “You paged me, is everything alright?”

Amelia turned around in her chair. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what’s wrong?” he concernedly asked, coming to her table and sitting down next to her.

“Is it possible to have phantom pain and not have an amputated limb?” she asked in a soft voice, looking down at her lap.

Derek smirked, unsure of where this conversation was going. “You’re a neurosurgeon, you already know the answer.”

“My hand hurts,” she whispered, squeezing her hand, “A lot.”

“Well,” he mused, leaning back in the chair, “It’s only been two weeks since the accident, that’s expected.”

“It wasn’t hurting before,” she added, tears coming to her eyes, “It started hurting yesterday after the meeting.”

Derek sat up, treading lightly, afraid to say the wrong thing. “What kind of pain?”

Amelia shrugged. “Pressure. Sometimes I can physically feel the window of the airplane squeezing my wrist.”

“Maybe you should consider other diagnoses,” Derek said, slowly adding, “Like…PTSD…”

Amelia chuckled bitterly. “Funny, you’re not the first person to tell me that.” She looked down at her hand, feeling it squeezing, as though the blood circulation was being cut off from it. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to take her mind off of it.

“It’ll go away,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. He ran his thumb along the back of her hand, around her wrist, then along her palm. “How’s it going with Owen?”

“Hmm?” she hummed, momentarily distracted by his massage, “Oh, it’s okay. He told me he remembered something else yesterday.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Something about me making waffles.”

Derek chuckled, reversing the pattern of the massage. “Your waffles are hard to forget, I’ll have to admit.”

“The waffle maker does most of the work,” she dismissed, smiling a little.

He shook his head and smirked, stopping his massage. “Let’s go for lunch, it’ll take your mind off things.” She nodded and stood up, joining him in his walk to the cafeteria.

---

“Derek, Arizona and I got more than that when our plane crashed,” Meredith commented as she, Maggie, Arizona, Alex and Owen sat at the cafeteria table, having lunch.

“I don’t want the money,” Alex grunted, stabbing his fork into his salad, “I just want to forget the thing ever happened. Our kid almost lost both her parents and I hate thinking about that. No amount of money can ever make me forget that.”

“Just your kid?” Maggie commented, taking a bite of her sandwich, “Owen and Amelia’s four kids almost lost both their parents too.” Looking over at Owen, she added, “I don’t know if I’d actually have been able to fulfil my godmother duty for all four of those gremlins.”

Meredith chuckled. “Agreed, huh Owen?” When no response came, Meredith looked over at where Owen was sitting and noticed he was staring intently in another direction. “Owen?” She tapped him on his shoulder.

“Hmm?” he hummed, looking at them dumbfounded, “What were you saying?”

“Who were you looking at?” Maggie inquired suspiciously.

“No one,” he lied. Being directly opposite to Owen, Maggie looked over his shoulder, only to see the two Shepherd siblings having lunch across the cafeteria.

“He’s looking at Amelia,” she announced, pointing her fork in his direction.

“No I wasn’t,” he denied, his cheeks turning red already.

“Amelia and Owen, sitting in a tree,” Arizona teased, making Alex and Meredith chuckle, “K-I-S-S…”

“Not funny,” he said, cutting her off, “Amelia and I aren’t sitting in trees and we definitely aren’t kissing.” He looked over at the table she was sitting at and, longingly, sighed.

“Not yet,” Meredith added.

“Not at all,” Owen corrected her, turning back around.

“But you want to kiss, don’t you?” Arizona continued the game, enjoying it.

“No, I don’t!” he exclaimed, their teasing making his entire face turned red.

“He definitely wants to suck her face,” Alex pointed out.

“And so what if I do?” Owen finally confessed, stabbing his fork into his pasta and almost breaking the plastic, “What’s so wrong with that?”

“Other than the fact that you guys cheated on each other and then got divorced in like, a month?” Meredith said, stating the obvious.

“It’s a shame you can’t remember how heavy you and Shepherd used to go at it in the on-call rooms,” Alex sighed, taking a sip of his coffee, “At least you would’ve had the memories to keep you satisfied. Now, all you probably have is fantasies.”

“I don’t fantasise about Amelia,” he said, which was true. He didn’t fantasise about her, just occasionally wondered what it would be like to have his tongue brushing against hers. Or other parts of his body.

“Of course you don’t,” Alex humoured him.

“Hey, at least this is better than the bickering,” Arizona chimed in, “That was annoying.” The other doctors hummed in approval while Owen stared at all of them in confusion.

“You guys fought a lot,” Maggie informed him, “Like, every day, more than three times a day.”

“About what?” he asked.

“Everything,” they all answered at the same time.

“Little stuff like leaving the toilet seat up, closing cabinets, putting stuff back in the right place,” Meredith mused.

“Then there was the big stuff like lying, cheating, you drinking,” Maggie added, “Oh, and Megan of course.”

“Why would we be fighting about my sister?” Owen wondered.

“You didn’t tell Amelia she was alive,” Meredith told him, “Not to mention, every time you visited her in DC, you’d come back drunk.”

“You came to work drunk , a couple times,” Arizona piped in.

“Wow,” Owen said, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. He turned around and looked at Amelia once more, feeling even more terrible for what he’d possibly put her through. He watched as she spoke with the Derek, the way her dimple popped when she laughed at whatever joke he made, and he smiled, her happiness infectious.

“He definitely wants to bang her,” Alex chimed, noticing the dreamy look on Owen’s face.

“How do I fix this?” he asked them once he turned around.

“I don’t know if that’s possible at this point,” Arizona truthfully remarked, “Once you stop loving someone, there’s not much more you can do.”

“I find it hard to believe that I ever stopped loving her,” he said, “I just want to know what happened, so I can fix it.” In a softer voice, he added, “I don’t think our story was meant to end like this.” The four doctors looked at him, pity on all of their faces.

Ceasing the jokes, Meredith said, “You should ask her for the whole story. Maybe that will help.” Owen nodded appreciatively at her.

---

Owen and Amelia stood side by side as they washed the load of dishes together. Having put the kids to bed a little while ago, Owen was glad to have her all to him, so they could talk.

“Amelia,” he said softly, the noise of dishes hitting each other louder than his own voice, “Can we talk?” His ex-wife froze midway through washing a plate. He watched as she slowly began to scrub the plate again.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked, handing the plate to him to rinse.

“About what happened between us,” he said.

“I told you what happened already,” she reminded him.

“No, I want the whole story,” he clarified, putting the plate to dry and taking the other one from her hand, “You only told me about the cheating and the divorce. I want to know what happened before that.”

“Owen…” she sighed, closing her eyes briefly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Please,” he begged, setting down the dish now as he faced, “I know you’re not supposed to tell me everything about my life, but I deserve to know what happened to me. To us.”

Handing him the last plate, she shut off the water and sighed. “What’s the point?”

Owen paused for a bit before answering her question. “I may not be able to fix our marriage, Amelia, but I don’t want to make the same mistakes again. I’m tired of apologising; I want to do something about it.” He put the plate away and faced her now. “Please tell me what happened, so I can be a better person in the future, for myself at least.”

“Let’s go sit,” she suggested. He followed her to the living room and they sat on the couch. Not wanting to push her, he watched as she fiddled with her finger in her lap, intently focused on them. Quickly, she wiped a stray tear from her eye as she mustered up the courage to talk about the painful five months they’d been through that eventually led to their divorce.

“Megan’s in a rehab facility in DC,” she began, unsure of how exactly to bring across the story, “You would visit her on the weekends.” She smiled sadly to herself as she recalled, “I remember dreading the weekends and the days following it, because that was when you’d be at your worst.” Owen internally cringed at her statement. She made him feel like he was an abusive drunk.

Owen was pretty sure that if he had to guess when he and Amelia had conceived the twins, it would’ve been the night of that gala they went to. They hadn’t had sex in almost a month, something that was a direct cause of the depression that followed right after that meeting they had with the fertility specialist. Although there was nothing physically wrong with either of them, Amelia had convinced herself that she’d run out of luck in her life and this was it for her, which led to a spiralling depression. Two weeks after, they decided, well, he decided that they should adopt a pet or something of the sorts. Mr. Jefferson, the cat Amelia ended up begging Owen to adopt, had oddly enough brought a lot of joy back into their lives. Jeff, as they nicknamed him, had Amelia make a complete 360; it was weird and intriguing. Every day, she’d wake up happier, and a happy her meant a happy him.

15th October 2017.

The gala was a small event that had been hosted by a hospital a couple towns away from Grey Sloan. All the heads of departments from Grey Sloan were invited and, as such, Amelia and Owen were required to go. The going part wasn’t a problem for either of them, although they weren’t too excited to go, it was the getting ready that was the problem. Whereas Owen had a perfectly scheduled set of events that led to him being ready at 7, Amelia was only just jumping into the shower at that time.

“Really?” Owen sighed as he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, watching his wife sneak into the shower.

“Not everybody’s spent over five years in the army, Major,” she lightly teased him as she turned on the water.

“Amelia, we have to be there for 9:00,” he complained as he brushed his teeth, “The drive is an hour, which means we have to leave here by 7:45 so we can get there fifteen minutes early.”

“When are you going to get that stick up your ass removed?” she inquired from within the shower.

“When you start caring about being punctual,” he grumbled, rinsing his mouth.

“If it helps, I brushed my teeth first,” she nonchalantly told him, “So that’s out of the way.”

Owen clenched his teeth, knowing she was provoking him. “That’s great, Amelia.”

In ten minutes, Amelia was out of the shower and Owen had managed to fully dress himself, except for tying his bowtie. He couldn’t help but ogle a little at her, soaking wet and only covered by her towel.

“Stop staring at me,” she laughed, catching him red handed, “I would hate to distract you from your strict time schedule.”

“I’ve given up on my schedule because I know we’ll end up leaving late anyways,” he declared, his face clearly showing his disappointment with her lackadaisical behaviour.

“You’re acting like this is the first time I’m doing this,” she giggled, tucking her towel before going to help him fix his tie, “You shouldn’t have married me if you couldn’t deal with this.”

“Well, it’s not too late for us to get a divorce,” he laughed, watching in adoration as her slim fingers weaved around his neck to fix the tie. She briefly glanced at him and rolled her eyes.

Owen sighed and smiled, watching the determined, yet peaceful look on her face. “You look happier.”

Their eyes met and she smiled. “I am.” She finished the last knot on his bowtie and then smoothed it out, looking him up and down. “I’m other things too…” Owen didn’t miss the way she nibbled on her bottom lip as she said the words.

Bells were ringing in his head, and other places, as he took in her words. “Other things too?”

She nodded, going up on her tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Almost immediately, Owen lowered his neck and wrapped his hands around her waist as her tongue glided across his top lip. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d shared a kiss that lasted more than a peck. He was frustrated and confused when she pulled away, but there was a mischievous smile on her face as she eyed the print of his erection on his dress pants.

“If only we had time,” she huffed playfully, “But we shouldn’t be any later than we already are. I know you like being on ti-,” Owen lifted her by her waist onto their bathroom sink.

“Don’t tease me and expect no consequences,” he warned her. She noticed the primal way he stared at her, and she couldn’t help but be incredibly turned on by it, pulling him back by his collar for another kiss. He pulled the towel off of her, his hands instantly going to her breasts and kneading them eagerly, his member flexing against the restraints of his pants as she moaned in his mouth.

“Bed,” he managed to whisper as she unbuckled his pants.

“Here,” she demanded, letting his pants drop to the floor. She shrugged his boxer briefs down and grabbed him while he haphazardly felt around for the bottle of lube they kept by the sink.

“What’s gotten into to you?” he chuckled at her insistence, opening the bottle and squirting some in his hand before applying it. He then pulled her impossibly close to the edge of the countertop, slowly pushing himself into her.

“Is this okay?” he concernedly asked when she gasped, not wanting to hurt her or make her feel uncomfortable.

She answered by kissing him and wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into her. “You’re fine.” He smiled softly, lacing his fingers with hers and pinning her hand down on the mirror behind them as they finally made love after so long. With each thrust, he could slowly feel her relaxing around him and, soon enough, they’d found a tantalisingly slow rhythm that had the both of them moaning softly. The only time he stopped was to pull her off the countertop and turn her around, bending her over the sink. His thrusts this time were faster and deeper and the look of pure bliss on her face as he gazed at her in the mirror only increased his arousal.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he watched her. Feeling his orgasm coming, he raised her body and brought her close to his chest, wrapping his fingers around her neck in a light choke as he rubbed on her core. Within minutes he could feel her panting and moaning getting louder, her hair and body soaking the entire front of his dress shirt. Her soft cry of pleasure, in conjunction with the contractions he was feeling around his dick, let him know that she’d finally orgasmed. As her pleasure began to die down, he moaned, loudly, releasing himself into her. They both bent over the sink now, trying to catch their breaths as they lazily looked at each other and grinned softly.

“How did we go so long without this?” she thought aloud.

“I don’t know,” he huffed, still trying to catch his breath, “All I know is that I love you and I’m glad it happened, even though it was short and there’s so much more I want to do to you.”

She smiled coyly. “Even though I made us late?”

He narrowed his eyes at her in the mirror. “Don’t push it.” He pulled out of her and stepped back, looking down at his now wet suit. “I’m gonna have to put this in the dryer.”

She turned around and proudly eyed the mess she’d caused on him. “Sorry.”

He rolled his eyes. “No you’re not.”

---

Although Owen and Amelia tried their best to sneak downstairs to the laundry room undetected, Ryan was quick to notice their presence.

“Mr. Owen?” he called out, seeing Owen first, “Why are you sneaking?” It was then he noticed Owen’s attire. “And why are you wet?”

“Oh, Dr. Hunt, Dr. Shepherd,” Sam, their babysitter, greeted them from the couch, bouncing Rosie in her lap, “I was just about to come up and ask what time you guys were planning to return…” Her eyes opened wide as she noticed the large, wet stain on Owen’s shirt, which just so happened to be around the same width as the wife innocently standing next to him in one of his jerseys, drying her hair with a towel. Instantly, Sam’s cheeks turned red. “Uh, I…um...”

“I’m just going to put these clothes to dry,” Owen said slowly, his face redder than hers, “There was a problem with the sink upstairs and I got wet.”

“Very wet,” Amelia added, just to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Amelia!” he hissed, softly elbowing her. She only responded with a Cheshire grin.

“Um…Okay,” Sam said slowly, having a good idea of what had happened to get him that wet. The three adults all stood awkwardly, staring at one another.

“Well,” Owen started, breaking the silence, “We’ll be in the laundry room.”

“Okay,” Sam dragged eyeing them suspiciously, “I hope the pipe in there doesn’t break too.”

“Right there.” She pointed to a spot on the scan. “Then evacuate  there. If all goes well, Cross should be able to at least feel his legs after surgery.”

“Hmm,” Derek mused, thinking over the game plan Amelia had given him five minutes prior, “Your plan is solid. It’d be nice to have you assist in surgery, though.”

“I’d like to be in it,” she agreed, “But Avery hasn’t cleared me yet.”

“Bummer.” Derek looked over at her and smirked. “How’s things with Owen?”

Amelia bit her bottom lip, thinking about this morning. “Is it bad that I like this version of him better?”

“No,” he answered, folding his arms across his chest as he looked at the scans once more, “But it’s not real. You know that, right?”

“What’s not real?” she asked, annoyed by his statement.

“This version of him, the version of him before he became a father and a husband. He’s lost a considerable amount of development that made him the person you married and birthed children for,” he briefly described, looking over at her, “He’s regressed in understanding his life and how he plays a role in it. That’s going to catch up to him.” He looked back at the scans, adding, “And you.”

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.”