Limitless

Category: Drama/Angst

Pairing: Omelia

Summary: Missing scene from 'Sound of Silence' S12E09. Owen told Meredith he and Amelia were done but when Amelia's drunk and erratic behavior puts her in danger, he realizes he isn't ready to let their relationship go.

Warnings: mentions alcohol abuse.

Disclaimer: Own nadda

Authors Notes: I feel like there aren't going to be flashbacks explaining how Owen and Amelia wen't from 'not speaking' to him offering her his trailer (why? I wan't flashbacks! :P) but this is my take. Based on Amelia's drunken behavior when she was confronted by Richard, only this time it's directed at Owen. Thanks for reading!

Owen slowed his pace stepping slightly to the left as his gaze followed Amelia into the elevator. She was dressed casually in jeans and cropped leather jacket, probably going back to her hotel or more likely -given her recent turn- going out to get hammered.

Anger stabbed through his chest but he didn't move, holding still until the doors slid closed. She was an adult. It wasn't his job to keep tabs on her, a fact she'd made perfectly clear when she chose Riggs as her new drinking buddy. It had nothing to do with him. His past was his own but the way she'd childishly thrown around flippant comments like, 'at least he talks to me' or 'you chose team Meredith' had been said with the intent to hurt. Clearly she was angry and acting out or maybe it was the alcohol talking but he had his own problems to deal with. If she couldn't handle herself or be mature about the situation then he was done.

They were done.

Like he'd told Meredith earlier, it was all good.

A sigh tore from his lips as his feet pushed towards the elevator. If only letting go was that simple. Every time he ran into her or walked in on a consult regret turned his stomach, her wide eyes stirring something inside him until they switched becoming vacant and detached. He couldn't find it within himself to reach out. He was still too angry and he jabbed the lift button repeatedly, watching the numbers flash on the panel above him. He expected it to stop at the entrance level but the car continued going up and he dropped his hand, a feeling of unease settling over him.

Where the hell was she going?

He tapped his foot impatiently until the roof access level illuminated and confusion tugged his lips into a frown. She hadn't been on-call and if there was a chopper scheduled to arrive someone should have paged him. Without hesitating he slipped his phone from his pocket sliding his thumb across the screen.

Nothing.

The other car arrived with a 'ding' and he returned the device breathing in and then exhaling as the doors parted. He had no reason to go after her. They weren't dating, they were barely even speaking but he couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't right and he moved inside muttering a curse under his breath as he hit the button to follow her up.

The climb was slow and frustration wormed under his skin making him feel claustrophobic in the small space. What if it wasn't just alcohol she was using? She reacted badly to Meredith's attack, what if she'd started doing drugs again and had gone up there to get high?

He locked his jaw trying to ward off a rush of disappointment and anger. He was making assumptions, what he needed to do was find her and then deal with the fallout.

The lift eventually came to a stop the doors grinding open and he exited quickly, rounding the corner to the stairwell. The security panel was flashing red which meant no incoming traffic so he swiped his pass buzzing himself through and taking lengthy strides up the stairs. By the time he reached the top he was out of breath and he caught himself against the exit bar, swallowing roughly as he pushed down on the metal handle.

It was drizzling and cold outside, no place for either of them to be without a coat and he moved carefully along the slippery surface spotting her in the darkness. She was sat on one of the boundary walls with her back facing him, legs dangling over the side and he could just make out the silhouette of a bottle in her hand.

He didn't need two guesses to know what it was, alcohol was a given.

"Amelia?" He called out, shielding his eyes against the droplets of rain as he slowly approached her.

She snapped her head round, startled by the intrusion but despite the tightness welling in her chest she played it cool taking another swig of vodka. She was drunk, she didn't want to talk to anyone... least of all him.

"I'm fine-" she threw the comment over her shoulder shifting her gaze back to the people wandering around below. The height didn't bother her if anything it made the world feel bigger, like there was finally space to breathe in again. She wasn't ready to let that go, not yet. "I mean it, I'm good... whatever. Just leave me alone."

He stiffened at the response, the forced calm in her voice urging him to stop and read the situation. Where she was sat wasn't narrow but it was high up, at least five feet from where he stood and there was no guard rail nothing to prevent her from falling. That coupled with the alcohol in her hand immediately made him nervous. "How much have you been drinking?"

"Since Bailey suspended me? Not enough-" she brought the bottle to her lips wincing as the liquid burned the back of her throat.

It wasn't fair.

Aside from turning up hungover or a little spaced out she hadn't technically done anything wrong but Richard had been in Miranda's ear, convinced the new Chief that she was going off the rails and the ultimatum had been laid flat on the table; take personal time or be dismissed as unfit for duty.

Either way it hadn't been her choice.

"I'm sorry." It came out sounding flat and he moved around her keeping his distance as he came in line with the wall. It was a long drop and anger bolstered his concern. She could be selfish and immature but she could also be so goddamn strong and enigmatic. All she had to do was stop doubting her abilities and punishing herself for things outside her control. It was infuriating but as he glanced back up at her he could see the vulnerability beneath her stubborn expression, the fear behind her addiction and reality slammed him hard.

He'd offered to be her person, to be there for her and they'd slowly been building trust but as soon as his personal life had gotten difficult he'd run. He'd shut her out and she'd retaliated by pushing him and everyone else away. He couldn't take responsibility for her actions but it wasn't all her fault, he deserved to shoulder some of the blame.

"I'm sorry," he repeated the apology, this time feeling the sentiment behind the words, "I honestly didn't mean to hurt you."

She lifted the bottle again, flinching as the ground skewed beneath her but alcohol was the only defense she had against him. He'd made it perfectly clear they were over, that he didn't need her drama on top of everything else in his life and she forced the shot needing it to steady her resolve. "It's fine, great even. Forget it."

The dismissal fueled his concern but as soon as he tried to move closer she tensed, her knuckles turning white over the edge of the wall. Terrified she might panic he instinctively took a step back trying to reason with her instead. "Bailey's just looking out for you. It's not a reflection on your work, she's obviously worried-"

"About Meredith-" she lost her cool snapping the response, "you think I haven't noticed the looks? How nobody wants me in that room or anywhere near her? I'm the wrong Shepherd. I get it, loud and clear."

He recognized the insecurity from Herman's surgery, the fear that kept coming back to haunt her and he almost felt sympathetic until she reverted back to the Vodka proceeding to pull as much as she could from the long neck.

"Amelia, stop it!"

She did, coughing violently as the rush caught up with her but the warmth was comforting and spread through her like fire. This was why she needed to drink, to feel something other than empty and she collected herself daring him to challenge her.

"Why should I?" She threw her hand back and pushed up, wavering as she found her balance, "why are you even here, don't you hate me or something? Or are you just that desperate to get laid you'd take advantage of a drunk women?"

Anger tightened the concern in his expression and the truth suddenly dawned on her.

He thought she was going to do something stupid.

A bitter almost painful laugh escaped as she gestured wildly over the drop, "really Owen? I don't need the 'there's so much to live for' speech. I've got this so screw your macho-bullshit hero complex and screw you, I'm-"

The bottle of Vodka slipped from her fingers, smashing into the ledge below and she stumbled over the slippery surface twisting to catch herself on all fours. "Whoops!" The comment flew flippantly from her mouth as she groggily pushed herself up, "see? no plane-crash/overdose/car-accident/store-robbery-gone-wrong' kind of tragedy over here-"

"Okay enough!" Anger cut through his calm facade, driven by fear and adrenaline as he watched her hovering by the edge, "you need to get down now, this isn't a game."

"Whoa... okay," she lifted her hands using a patronizing tone to mock him, "authoritative solider voice, I like it. Shame you didn't use it while we were sleeping together."

He swallowed the desperation clawing at his throat, letting his frustration take over. She was acting like a petulant child deliberately trying to provoke him and he had no idea how he was supposed to get through to her. "What do you want me to say?" He asked honestly, tearing a hand up through his hair, "I'm not sorry I needed some time. Yes, maybe I could have handled it better but you chose to drink. You chose to saddle up with the one person I don't trust. You think that didn't hurt me?"

A flash of regret broke through her composure and he used the distraction to inch forward, his gaze pleading with her to listen, "you're in my head all the time and I want to stay angry, god knows it would be easier for both of us but I can't. I've tried but I I'm falling in love with you and I don't know how to stop... so I'm here, I'm asking what I need to do to make this right."

The fear in his voice twisted like a knife and a dizzying panic washed over her threatening to break through her drunken bubble. She couldn't let that happen, couldn't listen to the words and let herself feel something again. It was too hard and she glanced down to the broken shards catching under the light, desperately in need of more alcohol.

"Amelia look at me."

"I can't." She'd been so angry, so sure nobody gave a damn and now he was here she couldn't face it. She was a mess, a hurricane that destroyed everything in its path and her fingers dropped to smother the sob that caught in her throat.

She'd warned him she didn't have any more to give and now she had nothing.

"I can't do this..." the world around her was spinning and she slammed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath to combat the sensation. Her body was drunk but her mind wouldn't stop looping everything that had happened since Derek's death. Reminding her how she'd fought so hard only to end up failing. "I tired and I lost everything. You, Meredith, my job... I don't even have a place to live. I have nothing. "

She stumbled and panic clamped his chest, adrenaline racing through his body as he looked down fighting a wave of vertigo. "It's going to be okay-" he glanced back up, gambling another step towards her, "we'll get through this. You can stay with me for as long as you need."

"Right or until you get sick of me." She circled her arms around her waist, hating the words as they slipped free but she couldn't stop herself from lashing out, "or until I say the wrong thing or talk too much."

The turn threatened his resolve to stay calm but he took a deep breath knowing she was just as scared as he was right now. The only difference was he buried his fear in silence and somehow they had to to find a way to meet in the middle. "You think you're the first person in the world to make a mistake? I've been watching you do this to yourself and I've been so angry... because I felt responsible and I didn't get how that was fair-" his voice filled with regret as he admitted his own shortcomings, "but if I'd fought harder for us, given you a reason to trust me... then maybe you would have."

She didn't say anything but didn't move either and he risked closing the distance between them, stretching out his hand and urging her to take it, "Amelia, please..."

She clutched herself tighter, afraid that if she stepped down he would be gone or worse... that he meant every word he'd said. She kept putting her heart on the line only to wind up having it crushed but when she finally looked down at him, she could see the same hurt mirrored in his expression. If he was willing to try, maybe she could find a way to start forgiving herself too.

She shrugged her arm free, brushing her fingertips against his palm and closing her eyes when he laced their hands together.

Relief swept over him and he moved closer, breathing in the heavy fumes of alcohol as he tugged her gently towards him. He had no idea what she'd been thinking, coming up here alone and drunk but he grasped her waist tightly, helping her down off the wall. As soon as her boots hit the ground he crushed her against his chest, "Don't ever do that again."

"Owen... i'm okay, I'm fin-"

He pulled back but kept a light hold on her shoulders. He wanted to yell at her, tell her what a stupid and reckless idea it had been but her eyes were already starting to glaze over and he knew there was no point having the discussion in her current state. "It's freezing, we should get back inside."

She nodded, withdrawing until he clasped her hand tightly.

"I'm here, okay?" He brushed his lips over her knuckles unable to explain what that meant, whether they were friends or something else or even what was going to happen tomorrow. He didn't have the answers but he was her person. No matter how hard it was or how long it took, he wasn't going to give up on her.

Or them.