Author: Tigrou19.

Fandom: Grey's Anatomy.

Title: Some peace.

Rating: K.

Kind of stuff: Essentially friendship but you can see some romance if you want to!

Pairing / Characters: Amelia Shepherd, Owen Hunt.

Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy. It all belongs to Shonda Rhimes and ABC Studios.

Note: A diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma is a tumour located in the pons (middle) of the brainstem. Brainstem glioma is an aggressive and dangerous cancer. Without treatment, the life expectancy is typically a few months from the time of diagnosis. With appropriate treatment, 37% survive more than one year, 20% survive 2 years and 13% survive 3 years.

Note bis: Thanks to Paisley Mae, who kindly offered to proofread this text. English isn't my mother tongue and this is my first attempt for Grey's Anatomy so, please, be gentle with me XD And, finally, I hope you'll like this little thingy!

Note ter: So yes, I know Amelia doesn't drink. I just kinda forgot that fact (how could I, seriously? I really don't know…) when I wrote this text. So let's say she just orders a soda or something like that, okay?

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xXx Some Peace xXx

x

Amelia sighed. Absent-mindedly, she looked at the clock and grimaced. It was already late, almost 11 PM, and she had two cases to study waiting for her. Slowly, she stretched out, being careful of her sore neck.

Her tired eyes read again the last words she had written and Amelia bit her lower lip. She loved her job, really, but sometimes… Sometimes, she had the unpleasant sensation that it could do more harm than good. She was completely worn out but she continued, day after day, to move forward, to get herself back on track.

Grasping her pen, the neurosurgeon decided to continue her report when she heard footsteps. She raised her head and was startled to see Chief Hunt approach.

"Shepherd?" he was surprised to meet her here.

"Chief." the young woman mimicked, frowning. "Weren't you supposed to go home a couple hours ago?"

Hunt smiled.

"I did, actually, but I got a call. Apparently, I forgot to sign some file so here I am." he half-joked. His eyes fixed upon the file under her hands. "I can see I'm not the only one to be busy."

Amelia looked down and sighed.

"Well, I would really rather do something else." she almost muttered, and Owen had to keep his ears open to hear her. "This kind of case always ends badly."

Owen came nearer to the desk and sat on it, intentionally letting a respectable distance between the two of them. The young woman tiredly stared at him and he gently smiled to her, seeming worried.

"Tough day?" he asked with a gentle voice, trying not to push her around.

Amelia's smile was bittersweet. She slowly moved her head.

"Eliott Campbell. Just turned twelve." she told him. She seemed to be miles away. "He… Was diagnosed a diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma during the past year. I've been managing his case for a few months."

Owen grimaced, understanding, but said nothing, just waiting for her to get this off her chest.

"Radiotherapy and chemotherapy had no effect. I already performed three surgeries on him and he recovered just fine, every time. But his glioma was aggressive and, despite all our efforts, always came back. We scheduled the fourth operation today, and he passed away."

Amelia dropped her pen and flattened herself in her chair.

"I spent almost ten hours in that OR telling me that, maybe, I could…" she said with bitterness. She was really exhausted. "But no. His heart just stopped beating on that table and never got going again."

Owen looked at her for a moment. Amelia couldn't tell if he was judging her or not.

"We can't save all of them, Shepherd." he just told her, his voice calm and gentle. "The Campbells wanted to try everything to save their child and that's totally normal, but this kind of tumor never gets us to win. You should not blame yourself..."

Amelia smiled sadly and stared at Owen.

"Trust me, I already know that, Chief. But despite all of this, I can't help but think that I wasn't capable to save a twelve-year-old child." she whispered before continuing her writing.

Owen watched her for a couple minutes and stood up. Amelia heard him move away from her and caught an umpteenth sigh. Eliott's death was heavy on her shoulders even if she knew she never could have saved him. And this little voice in her head, which kept tolling her again and again during surgery that she could do it, that she could be the first neurosurgeon in the United States – in the whole world! – to fulfil this exploit… She believed it. She had really wished for this little boy to get away from this and, now, she kicked herself.

Amelia felt the treacherous tears overwhelming her eyes and hastily wiped them. She had only known Eliott for a few months, but his enthusiasm and love of life had been infectious. The secret hope she had had to see him smile again was now dead. She was exhausted, worn out.

She heard another footsteps and irritation and annoyance ran through her veins. She raised her head one more time, ready to vivaciously tell off the reckless person who was disturbing her, but the words never came out.

"You're okay, right?" asked Owen, and she could detect some concern in his voice and empathy in his eyes.

Tired, Amelia bitterly thought that she didn't want his pity. Unable to control the tremulous quaver in her voice, she just nodded positively and the man gave her another smile.

"Hu… I was…" he started, uncertain. "I was going to have a drink at Joe's, and… I thought that maybe, after the day you had, you could use one too. Are you in?"

The neurosurgeon stared at her boss. She would have given anything just to leave the Grey Sloan Memorial right now, to quit this hell of hers. Chief's proposition was attractive, not to mention tantalizing. And also… She could admit it to herself, now: she had a thing for him.

Despite her reason screaming at her to turn him down, her decision was taken in two seconds. She cleared her throat.

"I'd love that." she said roughly, her gaze fixed on Owen's leather coat. "Drink, I mean."

Hunt softly laughed.

"Don't worry, I understood correctly." he gently reassured. "Take the time you need to finish up, I don't want you to be in trouble because of me."

She looked at him while he took place in one of the numerous chairs of the room. He was obviously waiting for her and she felt her heart miss a beat. Amelia immediately killed the feeling oh hope that tried to overwhelm her and forced herself to remain calm: Chief Hunt was certainly seeing all of this as a coworker meeting and she knew it. They were two friends going out to have a drink after a very long day's work.

… But still, it was good. For the first time since her arrival in Seattle, and even if she was exhausted, worn out, or had just lost her young patient… For the first time, the neurosurgeon could feel some serenity, some peace.

This time, Amelia's smile was sincere and, feeling better, the young woman finished her report.

x

February, 15th.