What She Needs

42. She's A Rebel

She's A Rebel- Greenday

Get yourselves a cup of tea! This is a super long chapter!

warning- talk of emetophobia 

Arizona Robbins 

"Tell me, Amelia. What's that baggy of drugs doing in the top left drawer huh?" Meredith snarks, her arm pulling from me defensively, but I keep tight hold so the newly sanitised cut isn't contaminated. 

The sentence takes a moment to register in my brain, but while it does, I notice a green tinge find its way to Amy's face. 

"Addison! Grab the trash can!" I yell in time for the red head to place the receptacle under Amelia's chin. 

She throws up. 

"Shhhh, breathe Amelia. Don't fight it. It's going to happen." Addie soothes. 

Amelia has Emetophobia. Ever since her sobriety, throwing up just reminds her of all the nights she spent nursing porcelain after a day on vodka. It's triggering for her. Addison knows this too, and her hand comes up to massage her back, as the force of Amelia's emotion is expelled from her body. 

"A-Addie!" The brunette manages to gasp.

"I'm here sweetheart." The eldest attending reassures.  "You're not drunk Amelia, you're not sick. This is just an adrenaline reaction, you know that."

"R-ryan!!!" She blubbers, before throwing up again. 

"I know. I know you miss him" She strokes her hair. "This isn't like last time. No-ones dying. Meredith just scared you. No-ones getting high and no-ones going to die."

I never realised how deep Amelia's trauma lies. I figured the drugs would've numbed the experience, but I guess there are gaps in her memory that her brain has filled with unpleasant scenarios. Maybe, her systems tolerance for drugs means she remembers everything vividly. 

Meredith, who is still relatively new to the world of Amelia Shepherd, looks bewildered and guilty. It isn't her fault. Sure, she could have phrased it a bit better, but I'm glad she told us Amelia has drugs. It's just a shame she couldn't have waited until both of them were in a better emotional place. I'm not going to get a logical conversation out of the intern, whose bloody wrist is still in my lap. 

Amelia slowly starts to calm, taking deep breaths in time with her big sister. I gently lift Meredith's arm and dig around in my pockets for some Kleenex. I wipe the tears and snot from Amy's face, and Meredith hands over her water bottle.

"There you go. You're okay honey." I smile. 

"Sorry for getting sick."

"Don't be sorry. You can't help it! We're all doctors anyway, it doesn't gross me out." 

We give the neurosurgeon a few more minutes to take deep breaths and feel the breeze coming from the window we cracked open, before we start any interrogation.

"I'm sorry for saying that." Meredith mumbles, tears of bewilderment forming in her eyes. I get off the floor in front of Amy, and signal for Meredith to come sit in my lap. Addison takes the brunette in her arms and we both hug the kids until the shakiness has left their lungs.

"You know how you faint when you have attacks?" I whisper in Mer's ear. She nods. "Well, Ame's has a phobia of throwing up, so when her body thinks it's in danger, she gets sick. But she's not ill, honey. That was a panic attack you just witnessed. I've only seen her have one before. That was when......"

"When I went missing right? She turned to drugs because of me?" Meredith tries to finish for me.

"That's not what happened. She did turn to drugs, but she didn't take any. She gave them to me. Obviously, not all of them.... anyway, Amelia is responsible for her actions, not you."