Meredith P.O.V
I felt it before I saw it. The dark energy currently radiating through my hallway. The experience clarified something I'd never considered before. There's two nicknames currently in this house. I'm Medusa, the fearful creature who can turn people to stone with nothing more than a look. I can't say I'm offended and I'm probably just about gracious enough to concede it made some sense. I'm not a touchy feely character it's true and while my powers sadly do not extend to petrifying people I can more than hold my own and was glad everyone knew so. The person entering the house had a title too- hurricane Amelia. I'd always agreed with that name too. Even sober Amelia is a whirlwind, she's loud and messy, and you can't ignore her presence. And sadly, drunken Amelia, high Amelia had caused enough damage to herself and those around her to rival any freak weather. But watching her tonight I realised she was like a hurricane in another way; you can feel the pressure rising before the explosion.
As she enters the kitchen I'm alarmed by the look in her eyes. The sparkle that normally resides there was gone replaced by a disturbing emptiness. I was surprised therefore when Amelia showed no deviation from our normal routine. She calmly made food for the kids making small talk with Zola and Bailey about their day at school. When I came downstairs from putting Ellis and Bailey to bed she was at the kitchen table helping Zola with her homework. When I instructed Zola it was time for her bedtime Amelia got up to give her a hug and a soft kiss on the head.
"Good night Zola" she whispered.
It was dangerously gentle and although I know how much Amelia loved her nieces and nephews something in her tone scared me. After a second, I identified the feeling; it sounded like Amelia was saying goodbye.
While Zola seemed oblivious to her aunt's distress I'm becoming more concerned by the second. Normally Amelia would shout or cry not this; this illusion of normality was infinitely more disturbing. I caught her eye, silently asking her what was wrong, but there was no response, my sister's eyes remained impassive and she turned away to start busying herself tidying the kitchen. I sighed and went up with Zola silently wondering how to tackle this.
With Zola asleep I returned to the kitchen to find sparkling surfaces and a bowl of pasta waiting for me on the counter. I can't take much more of this.
"Amelia"
But Amelia only shook her head offered a weak smile and went upstairs.
Sighing I ate the pasta thinking I might need my strength for the confrontation that I'm clearly going to have to force.
Amelia P.O.V
This wasn't the way I expected the day to go. You'd think that the night you prepared to turn your life upside down you might have an inkling as you opened the curtains. But it didn't always happen that way.
I'd been struggling for the last few weeks. Seeing Owen with Leo had been difficult in a way I hadn't expected. Of course, seeing the beautiful little boy Owen now held reminded me instantly of my own unicorn baby. Every time Leo smiled or laughed felt like acid being dripped slowly into an open wound. It was a brutal reminder of all the moments I never got to have. The worst was when he started to make sounds, and, in an instant, I was transported back to the hospital room in LA and the second my heart had broken. The moment when my little unicorn baby started to fade away making that devastating squeaking sound I knew came from anencephaly. I'd told Jake not to let me hear him squeak, I'd heard about the phenomenon in my lectures at Hopkins, seen it with other patients but there was nothing that could have prepared me for hearing it from my own son. It was more than just the reminder though, it was seeing Owen with a child. My former husband, the man who so desperately had wanted children, and who now got to be happy with a child, without me. It didn't matter that I was the one who'd said no to children, that I know my marriage would never have worked, and we were better apart. You can't always tell your mind what to feel and lately mine was ignoring everything I knew and instead focusing on the visceral thing that I felt, pain. And there's only so much pain a person can take. Today I reached my limit.
I'd tried though, I'd tried so hard. I'd been at daily meetings and at first, I thought I was winning. But day by day my strength was caving. At first it was looking a second too long at the bottles of wine in the fridge, having to drag my gaze away from the glass Meredith seemed to have permanently in her hand. It wasn't alcohol I wanted this time though. And so finally after one bad day at work I'd been able to hold on no longer. Without even realising it my feet had taken me to find the junkie doctor and my hands had exchanged money for the small plastic baggie in my grasp. I placed it in the pocket of my leather jacket; as much as I wanted it it couldn't be now. This was different, I knew I wouldn't come back from the pills this time. The first time getting sober had been hard, the second torturous, I did not think I'd survive a third. So as much as I wanted the release of the pills I forced myself to wait that little bit longer. Because if I'm going to do this there was something I would have to do first, spend one last night with my beautiful Zola, bailey and Ellis.
That's what had got me through the evening as I did everything I could for them this one last time. I ignored Meredith's stares and rebuffed her attempt to reach out. And finally, as I entered my room to get changed I knew this was it. As I picked up my bag to leave I found my path blocked by a figure in the doorway and I realised I'd have to wait that little bit longer again.