The bar sat quiet with a single doctor from Grey Sloan whom sat in remorse. She sat with all the liqour that could bring away her pain. There she sat, desperate for a drink, but clinging to her sobriety.
The doors swung open and closed, people who entered and left at the same rate, seemingly unaffected by their consumtion or struggles in their life.
It didn't matter to Amelia. Nothing did at this moment, she never wanted to be in a position like this again.
Not after her fiance. Or baby. Now, her brothers death would continue to haunt her.
Drink, after drink, after drink, pouring her throat. Sip after sip.
The action went against her better judgement, she knew that. Life was just difficult. She just couldn't stop.
No one cared. Not about her.
They didn't know, or understand pain and struggle that she'd been through. The hell of her life.
Once again, the door swung open. This time, a perky blonde stepped through the door.
Attentive as always, she noticed everyone.
A couple on a date, seemingly too young to be in a bar.
A group of men watching the national football game, drinking to every score.
Not to forget, Amelia. Aizona saw the dark haired woman she considered her friend, she saw a glimpse of the pain hidden by alcohol. She knew, she knew the vaguest details of Amelia's past. The bare minimum of what she shared. Amelia had her secrets, and she respected that, even she had secrets of her own. Arizona knew and understood, yet it beyond disappointed her that Amelia would give up her soberity after all the effort that she put forth.
"Amelia Shepherd," Arizona softly scolded, enough to get her attention and show her that she cared, yet not enough to harm her, "You tried so hard, and now you just through away your sobriety, but what's done is done. Why are you here?" She questioned with the most care she could put forth. Sure, she first came to have a drink, or two, or five, but Amelia was her friend, and Arizona was a great friend.
"No one cares Arizona. Get over yourself and realize that people die, and it doesn't matter why," Her response, a retaliation, as horrifying and empty it felt, wasn't her speaking. She could see that. The drug took over her body, taking it as a vessel.
A connection to life, like a parasite. Amelia became no longer Amelia, but only the shell she was born into.
Arizona pushed through, engulfing the brunette in a hug. Giving the other human being the humanity, and love she hadn't felt in weeks.
For everyone, Amelia worked harder than she should. She did the difficult work of hiding the truth to everyone. Hiding not only the pain, but the love she felt for years. The struggle she faced to keep everyone innocent, and naive. For Meredith. For Derek. For Maggie. For Owen. For Arizona.
A very well kept secret. With the pain of all the secrets Amelia inhabited, Arizona took care of her. Whether that be in public or private, Arizona felt a need to help her friend.
Arizona had the pain Amelia knew, but Amelia had it much worse. The loss of a brother, as long go as it was, she still felt Timothy's death deep inside her heart. The pain of his remained, even years later, and Arizona wasn't completely sure on how to reassure the woman of the forthcoming pain, or the process of accepting his death.
Arizona could tell, Amelia had many more secrets that she appeared to at face. Much more than any nurse or doctor at the hospital, and it wasn't her job to learn them all, yet the feeling of a closer friendship brought both of the Doctors a small peak of happiness.
As the blonde woman led the shorter tipsy brunette out of the forgotten building, a change could be felt in the nature of their behavior, and the night brought the mystery of their actions onto another day.
Off into the night, Arizona and Amelia silently vowed to care for each other, even when no one else would, they now had each other.