Grey's Anatomy 1. Her memories of being loved

It had been 35 years since she left Seattle. 35 years since the last of many break ups and make ups. This was the only relationship in her life that she had given it all. All her strength in the face of post traumatic stress, both his and hers. her forgiveness after learning about the cheating. All her love when she finally decided to let him go.

It had been 35 years of none-too-serious relationships, publishing more papers than she could possibly count, four different surgical techniques named after her and a steady flow of appreciation and awards.

She had become what she had set out to be at age 9, a world renowned goddess, the invincible heart surgeon, and ironically all she had to lose for gaining it was her heart. Her happiness and content included.

And yet that gaping hole in her own heart was filled by making no more effort than closing her eyes and remembering his, the colour of a warm ocean. And the rare day she would lose a patient, she remembered the comfort of his arms around her. And the day it all became too unbearable, she would remember his laughter and all her pain would melt away.

Who said memories weren't enough to survive. She was a living proof to the contrary. She had survived and she had lived. With nothing but warm memories in her arsenal.

Well..in her defence she did have a whole lot of memories etched for all of eternity.

Cristina would remember the grin on his face when she woke up and was strutting around with half closed eyes looking for caffeine. And the tone in which he said, good morning to you too _'my pre-coffee-cristina'_...

Then she would remember the taste of his perfectly cooked eggs Benedict or French toast or omelette or whatever other form he decided to serve her morning eggs. Because Owen knew Cristina loved her eggs and he had to make her some every morning because she dint cook and the cereal did not come in an egg flavour. Well not an edible one anyways.

She remembered the look in his darkened eyes hinting upon an upcoming hour of hair washing and morning soapy sex. And she remembered the gentle yet firm way in which his fingers massaged and rinsed through her hair.

She remembered his choice of music when they drove to work together in his blue truck. how after even years of marriage he still insisted on holding her car door open, like he has never known that not opening a lady's door is also an available option.

And the way he always gave her a quick peck on the lips before heading to the pit or his office. Well as gentle a peck as they both could ever share. And quick by only their standards.

And she remembered how he always sent her coffee twice during the day, delivering it through a nurse or an intern if he was busy. More if he knew she was having a rough day.

She also remembered whenever by a small miracle they ever had time to eat lunch together, how he would swap her coke with his juice and her double choco chip muffin with his salad or fruit so that she at least had something nutritious going inside her petite body.

She remembered the look of pride on his face when she operated even if it was the most routine surgery. Which is why she never wondered what he would have looked like or said when she won her first Harper Avery or her first Carter Madison grant...she didn't wonder because she knew. She knew it would be a look of love first. Pride second. Because he respected her and was proud of her but first and foremost he loved her.

She remembered how he never seemed to care how hard or tiring his own day had been while he cooked her dinner or massaged her feet. Or just sat by her keeping her company while she researched online or read a medical journal.

she remembered how one of the only few times he would act like a typical guy was when a European soccer match was on and he would sit on the couch surrounded by beer and chicken wings shouting at the tv. Either alone or with sloan or shepherd or karev.

She remembered how for their first anniversary he actually convinced the local pizzeria to edit their menu to add an '_excessive Parmesan_' option for her considering they were loyal customers. Though he didn't mention it, she knew it would have costed him a lot of money to make them change their menu just for her!

And she remembered that those were the only years of her life when she had clean underwear without having to buy some every week as he made it a point to keep all of her clothes wearable because for him it was just an extension to his own clothes. Besides, he half smirked, that the extra effort actually ends up working in his favour as any new fabric is that much tougher for him to rip off.

She remembered every little detail about the man who was and will always be the love of her life..she remembered the scent of his aftershave, the curve of his lips, the scar on his thigh, the sound of his laughter, the smoothness of his skin, the colour of his eyes, the texture of his hair, and she remembered the sound of his heart beat.

and most of all she remembered the look of conviction in his eyes, the night at joes when he brought her a drink, called her on being a bully, told her that he thought she was smart and opinionated and that he wanted to be around 40 years from now..so simply and so earnestly that it dint sound like wishful thinking at all..like it was something proven by science..that he was just going to be around 40 years from now..there was no other foreseeable option.

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And now in here he was 35 years after she had walked away from him, lying on a gurney in a trauma room in her hospital, with blood oozing from behind his head, turning his now almost silver hair to a familiar shade of erstwhile red..and he still took her breath away..


	2. Rants of his subconscious-mind

**disclaimer: all the recognisable characters belong to Shonda Rhimes and ABC.**

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_"RANTS OF HIS SUBCONSCIOUS-MIND"_

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J.M. Barrie — 'You know that place between sleeping and awake, that place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always think of you.'

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About forty years ago, during which was eventually going to be his last tour in Iraq, Major Owen Hunt, woke up to the same scent every morning and could swear that he could smell it every time he closed his eyes. A scent his soul remembered and yet could not be deciphered by his mind. He had let it go the first day. And the second. And the third. On the fourth day he made up half his mind to ask his fellow team members if they could smell something weird in the air. A good kind of weird. But as soon as he opened his mouth, he did not know how to describe it. After all he dint know what it was, all he knew was what it wasn't. He had thought about it a great deal before he fell asleep the previous night. He had concluded that it wasn't musky and it wasn't fruity. Nor was it woody. Or anything he had ever known yet it felt like it belonged to him.

Being a doctor Owen knew that scent was one of the most powerful memory triggers. And yet for the life of him, he couldn't place that one particular scent that hit his nostrils like a breath of fresh air between the gloom and the gore of a war wrecked desert.

As the days and the weeks passed by, he stopped questioning its roots and embraced it as a security blanket, that indiscernible scent became his comfort in loneliness ,his hug at the end of a long day, warmth on cold night, confidence amidst a difficult case, nostalgia of a home far away and his promise for better days. That scent became his haven.

That warm scent was what had enveloped him during that unfortunate RPG ambush that took away his entire unit. All nineteen of them. He smelled it a second before the grenade went off. And after it all was over. In the midst of the chaos and delirium and the stench of burning flesh, that scent for all intensive purposes had shielded him from dying. From losing hope. From giving up. That warm scent had pushed him for finding the strength to go back home. And most of all for the chance to understand and keep that scent alive within him for with the eyes wide open.

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How was he to know how that scent was going to change him and his world just a few months later.

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Doctor Owen Hunt might have been discharged as an army surgeon posted in the thick of it, but he still was an experienced doctor. And the head of the trauma department of the most prominent hospital in his hometown. And in the country.  
Which is why he knew that hallucinations were heightened in delirium and alcohol worsened ones delirium. He had lost a huge chunk of himself with every tour. Every nightmare that he had shaved a few inches off him. Over the tours he had become so small that it had shrunk his vision of life. So much so that he had lost the sight of who he was, eventually alienating himself from everyone he had ever cared about. In his mind if he couldn't tolerate himself, how could the ones he loved.

Sitting across from his new place of work, he thought his hallucinations had taken a whole new form, when he could sense that the now so familiar scent was taking over every inch of his body. It was stronger than it had ever been before. He could not shake the feeling that the scent was all around him, just a few feet away. But he chalked it up to a case of nerves over having to start working at a civilian hospital and the fact that he was just a few miles away from his mother. So he looked up with a new found confidence in himself and told the bar tender to cancel his shot of scotch and just make it a single beer as he started his work tomorrow. Even though he knew that he was only avoiding liqueur to avoid further fuelling his hallucinations.

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And today more than forty years after that night at joes, he was again hit by that feeling that the scent he remembers so well was seemingly stronger than what it usually is in his head when he wakes up on any given day. Maybe, he thought, that he was merely wishing for this to be a sappy fairy tale where he wakes up from a long dream that apparently lasted about four decades and he would open his eyes and the love of his life would be at his side and they never separated or got divorced and it was all a dream.

But given that along with that exquisite scent he could also sense a piercing pain in his head and along his torso, maybe he was close to dying and he was just trying to sneak in that scent with him in his afterlife.

But then he decided that just a whiff of her scent wasn't enough anymore. It wasn't enough to last a lifetime without her and it certainly was not going to be enough to last all eternity. He decided he wouldn't die believing that he will not be with her in in his afterlife. Because that was the deal he had made with her when he crashed her farewell party all those years ago. He had made her promise that she would be his in every life after this one. And he was bloody well going to make sure she follows through with her end of the bargain.

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With that determination in mind his heart rate started normalising, the change in the rhythm waking Cristina up from her trance.

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**author's note:**

**okay guys if you are reading this and could hopefully spare the time, please leave a review, even if it is to critique something, because well sorry for sounding whiny, but the lack of response doesn't really do much to boost my ego in the right direction Considering this is my first fan fiction !**

**but thank you for reading anyways!**


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