Callie throws Owen out exactly five minutes after figuring out that Teddy Altman isn’t just another guy from his old unit. Teddy listens to the whole thing via Skype, which while Owen really wishes she hadn’t, means that as soon as he’s out of the house, she calls him.
“Come stay with me for a while,” she says.
It’s a horrible idea, it’s wrong and it’s giving up, but it’s everything he wants, too. Someone who understands, someone who lived through what he lived through and still loves him. Someone he loves.
“I... are you sure?” he asks, because he knows this is a bad idea, but he doesn’t have the strength to point that out right now.
“I’ll meet you at the airport.” Teddy’s voice is sure and steady, and so Owen goes.
It’s a six hour flight, almost seven, but he makes it with the help of several of those tiny bottles of rum and a flight attendant who bumps him to first class. He tries not to think about Callie, about how very over his marriage is, or if he’ll ever see his kids again. He tries not to wonder if Yang was right all along.
By the time he makes it to baggage claim, he’s completely sober again, and wondering what exactly he’s just done, but then Teddy is standing there, and he decides not to care about the past. The past is over. The future is here.
“Owen,” Teddy calls when she sees him. She’s smiling, trying to cover up the exhaustion even he can see underneath. She’s in blue scrubs with her old Army jacket thrown over the top, and for a second he’s back in Afghanistan, except this time they’re teasing each other as the sun bakes the sand, and no one is dying.
“Teddy,” he says like he’s saying it for the first time, like he can breath again. He leans in, and she leans in, and then they’re kissing in La Guardia for the whole world to see. Owen Hunt doesn’t care. Let them all look.
“We should,” Teddy says, once they’ve pulled apart to breath, “we should get your bag.”
He’d shoved everything he wanted into his army pack, while Callie yelled and Teddy watched. It’s mostly clothes. Right now, he just wants to take Teddy home, he can always buy new clothes. Teddy’s spotted his bag, though, and so he leans down and scoops it up.
She holds his hand, pulling him through the airport, towards the taxis, and Owen’s just stuck on the fact that it’s her hand holding his.
The taxi drops them off in front of her building, and he’s nervous. This is Teddy, he’s never been nervous around her, not even when he realized he was in love with her, back in the desert. He lets Teddy usher him up the stairs and he drops his bag once he’s in the door, and lets her pin him against the wall.
At some point they are going to have to talk. Right now, though, Owen isn’t nervous anymore and the only things he wants to say are “yes,” and “please,” and “more.”
“Teddy,” he groans as she pulls his shirt over his head. Her fingers run over his ribs. He knows she can tell he hasn’t been taking care of himself. Too much running, too many push-ups, not enough food, not enough sleep. She doesn’t say anything, just kisses him again, and lets him pull her shirt over her head as well. He wants to slow down, to savor this, but Teddy just urges him on, faster and faster, until they’re both naked in her kitchen.
“Owen,” she keens, and he can’t take it any longer. He hoists her onto the counter, and with her nod, slips inside. It’s everything he’s wanted since he met her, hot and tight, and she wraps her legs around him, pulling him all the way in.
It’s fast and explosive, and he only just hangs on long enough too make sure she comes first.
She slumps, forehead resting on his shoulder, breathing, until breathing turns into laughter, and her laughter is joined by his.
It’s a little hysterical, on both their parts, but Owen doesn’t want it to stop, because when it does, the real world will come rushing back in. So he holds on and laughs with her, because otherwise he might cry.