CHAPTER 1: FINE AGAIN

"And I am aware now of how
Everything's gonna be fine
One day, too late, I'm in hell"
-Seether

Amelia Shepherd stared at that vodka tonic for a good five seconds. And in that five seconds, a lot flew through her brain. Her complicated brain full of neurons and synapses and glial cells. Her intricate brain with more problems than her successful career in neurosurgery would ever be able to fix. She knew if she drank that vodka tonic, her brain wouldn't let her stop. More specifically, her brain would flood with dopamine and overload her brain's reward circuit. The parts of her brain that control judgement, decision making, learning, memory, and behavior control would essentially be hijacked, and every inch of her being would ache for another drop of alcohol. Or better, a pill. But she knew what was in every drop of that alcohol. Numbness, relief, escape. Everything that her heart was yearning for. She also knew that in every drink there was pain, guilt, and isolation. She knew that if she took that drink, she might not ever stop. But she felt so, so alone... And the only thing there for her in that moment was the vodka tonic. So she took that drink, not giving a damn about what would come next.

As she felt the burn of her first sip of alcohol running down her throat, she wondered if this time would be different. This time, she would be in control. Staring at her glass, she knew that wouldn't be the case. It never was. It never could be. She'd lost too much of her old self, the self that she hadn't seen for years. Her brain was too damaged. The warmth that sat in her throat was too comforting, too inviting of her next sip. The rest of contents of the glass rolled down her throat as fast as it could without choking her. Instantaneously, her internal clock ran from one thousand five hundred and seven right back down to zero. Every second of the fight that was the past four years. Gone.

She called for another glass, and she thought about Owen. She hated him. She loved him. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She wanted to wake up every morning in his arms. She never wanted to see him again. She wanted him to forget about her and find someone new. Someone who wasn't like her. Someone who was nice and sweet and funny. Someone who didn't have baggage. Someone whose father wasn't murdered in front of her eyes. Someone who didn't have a dead brother and a dead baby and a dead ex and a dead everything else. Someone who didn't systematically waste herself away with pills and booze. Someone who wasn't destined to wind up dead in the bathroom stall of a shady bar.

But when she thought about Owen, all she really wanted was for him to march through the doors of that bar. For him to wrap his arms around her, tell her it was okay, take her home. But he wasn't coming through those doors.

"In a perfect world," she muttered to herself.

"What?" Nathan Riggs asked.

She shook her head, "Nothing." She wondered if she should tell the bartender to cut her off before she lost complete control. Like she did in LA, all those years ago. But it hadn't done much then, and it wouldn't do much now. What was the point?

She downed her next glass, and she thought about Meredith. No matter what she said, they were sisters. They both knew that. Even when they hated each other. Which seemed to be all of the time now. She wished they could go back to a year ago. Everything had been so much less damaged. There had been no dead Derek in between them. They had treated each other like human beings sometimes. Ah, those were the days.

As she finished the glass, she thought about Dr. Webber and Charlotte. They would be disappointed, watching her. They would probably tell her she needs to go to a meeting (or in Charlotte's case, meetin'). They would understand, though. They wouldn't look at her the way everyone else would. The ones who would call her fragile and weak and selfish and narcissistic. The ones who would agree that she did this to herself, that this was caused by some innate lack of self control and willpower. The ones that don't understand the gravitational pull that dragged her to the bar that night. It's not one they teach you about in physics class. It's the voice inside of her that told her that she had no place to go. She no longer had a home. But the bar, the bar will always welcome her with open arms. The bar could make her feel like home. That was what the voice had promised her, but the voice was lying. The bar was not home, the bottom of a bottle was.

She called for a third, and she thought of the people she'd lost. Derek would be disappointed in her. Oh, she missed him. His words echoed through her mind, even after all of these years. If you ever think about doing drugs again, call me. I'll fly down to Los Angeles and knock some sense into you. If only he were there to knock some sense into her now. But then again, if he were there, she probably wouldn't have ended up in the bar in the first place. He wouldn't be the only one disappointed in her, though. She couldn't imagine what her father would think of her. Ryan, Michelle, Pete, Mark - they would be disappointed. She'd come so far. Her son would probably be disappointed, too, if he had any cognitive function. She nearly finished the glass, but Riggs stopped her.

"Whoa, slow down there," Riggs commented.

"Well, it was a long day," Amelia responded.

Riggs sighed. "That it was, but I doubt your body can take care of so much vodka at once."

"You don't know anything about me," she retorted.

"Fair enough." He shrugged as he continued to drink too much himself.

She called for a glass of water next. "Happy?" She asked him.

He rolled his eyes. "Pretty girl like you," he commented, "What do you have to drink about?"

He was drunk, and she knew it. But she was, too. "You don't know anything about me," she repeated.

"What? Daddy doesn't approve of your pretty new boyfriend?"

"Daddy was murdered when I was five. My brother and I were there. He's dead, too, by the way. Boyfriend won't talk to me. If he's even my boyfriend anymore." Not that you'd know anything about that, she wanted to add. "What do you have to drink about?"

"I'm sorry. Fiancee died in a car crash several years ago. I just moved here. Her brother isn't making it easy."

"I'm sorry. My fiance died, too, a long time ago," she replied before she'd processed his full statement. "I mean, I was high when I met him, and I was high when he died, but he was the first man I ever thought I loved." Why was she saying all of this? It's one thing if it's to a stranger in a bar, but Riggs? Wait. Brother? Owen? What was he talking about? Nothing was making sense now. Her head was a mess.

"I'm sorry. I guess you do have a lot to drink about." She was about to say you have no idea, but then he called for another round.

"I guess we all do, huh?" They continued to drink themselves away, saying things that they never would have if they were sober.

Joe decided that it was time for them to go home. He called them both taxis. He dragged them out to the curb, and just before stumbling into the cab, she told Riggs, "You're not so bad. I don't know why Owen hates you so much."

The cab dropped her off in front of one of the only houses that she thought would welcome her in. She rang the doorbell twice, then stood and waited. The winter Seattle air was biting, and if she were thinking logically, she would wish she hadn't left her coat at the bar. Her dilated capillaries didn't help with conserving body heat either. However, the truth was that she was too drunk to care. But she could think clearly enough to know that she didn't want to spend the night on a doorstep. She rang the doorbell again after a few minutes, then pulled out her phone. At your door she typed slowly with numb fingers. A minute later, the door swung open. Arizona stood behind it with her blond hair a messy mop on her head and a baggy sweatshirt and patterned pajama pants on.

"I'm sorry for waking you," Amelia said. "I didn't know where to go."

Arizona beckoned for Amelia to come in. "What happened?" She was still a bit groggy, but the fog surrounding her brain was beginning to lift. As soon as Amelia stepped inside, Arizona could smell the alcohol. "Have you been drinking?"

Amelia only shrugged and looked down.

"God, Amelia…" She put her hand on the other woman's wrist. "You're freezing. Go warm up in the shower. First right up the stairs." She nodded her head in the direction of the staircase. "I'll leave some clean clothes outside the door. Throw yours in the hamper, I'll run a load first thing tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," she said quietly. She felt like she should say more, so she opened her mouth, but Arizona shook her head.

"Just go. We can talk in the morning. You can either sleep on the couch or in DeLuca's room. He's rarely even around anymore. He usually spends his nights at the hospital or, well, with Maggie, but you knew that. His room is right across from the bathroom."

Amelia nodded and walked up the stairs. Arizona followed her, and went to her room to get something for Amelia to change into. She left them in front of the bathroom door, and then lingered for a moment. Something happened tonight, something that Arizona wasn't aware of. And it would have to wait until morning for her to find out.

Arizona didn't sleep very well for the rest of the night, mostly out of worry for her friend. She woke up early, and threw the laundry in the washing machine. The machine started to whirl and spin, and she had nothing better to do but stare mindlessly, partially asleep through the transparent top. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually she snapped out of it. She brewed herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch. She turned on the early-morning news and half-watched until a reasonable time to get ready rolled around. When she went upstairs to check on Amelia, she found her sobbing in the bathroom.

"Amelia?" She asked.

Amelia looked up with terrified eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Arizona shook her head, telling her that it was alright. "I- God, I haven't had a hangover in so long," she cried. "Dammit!" Her voice wasn't angry, but anguished.

Arizona put her hand on Amelia's shoulder. "It's alright. It really is. It's going to be alright."

Amelia sat up. "If you really believe that, you don't know me at all."

Arizona sighed. "I know it seems like your world is crashing and burning around you, but you can get past this. I know you can. I may not have known you before when… everything happened, but I know you know, and I know you can figure this out. Whatever this is. What happened last night, anyways?"

Amelia shook her head. "I don't even know. I- I don't know. Meredith and I got into a fight. We said some pretty nasty stuff, and she kicked me out. Me and Owen haven't really been speaking lately. I don't know. I just ended up at the bar." She glanced around, trying to change the subject. "I need to get ready. You should, too."

Arizona stood up taller and put her arms akimbo with her hands on her hips and her thumbs back. To show authority, just like her father had taught her. "No, you're not going to work today. No way, not like this. You barely got any rest last night, and, no offense, but you're a mess. Call in sick, sleep off your hangover. Then you're going to go to meeting or whatever it is you like to do, and you're going to figure your crap out." Once she was done with her spiel, she dropped her arms and smiled. "There's bread on the counter if you want to make some toast." She turned and started to leave the bathroom to get ready for her own day.

"Wait," Amelia said. Arizona froze, but didn't turn around. "Last night, I was with Riggs at the bar. What if he says something?"

Arizona spun around and smiled. "I'll talk to him. He won't say anything."

Arizona left, and left Amelia sitting there feeling dumbfounded. Arizona hadn't left her many options. Or, well, any options. She rubbed her temples and decided that Arizona was probably right. If she had any hope of getting past this without relapsing completely, it wasn't going to happen running around the hospital trying to avoid Meredith and Owen.

A/N: So, I'm finally posting this. I've written at least 10 different versions of this story, and I have about 30 pages worth of Google Doc that will never be published to prove it. However, I think I've finally decided on a route to take this story and I'm SUPER excited for it! I have tons of ideas waiting to be written, so hopefully this will be my first ever successful chapter fic! Key word being hopefully. I hope you liked the first chapter! Let me know what you think.