Amelia
I'm definitely in Arizona's bed, but something feels different. As I open my eyes, I realise that the difference is caused by Arizona not being in it with me. Where is she? I sit up and look around the room before calling her name. "Arizona?"
"Morning," she smiles at me, walking through the bedroom door with two cups of strong, black coffee. She hands me one and takes a sip of the other.
"Did you sleep at all last night?" I ask, looking at her tired face. I don't know why I bothered, I already know the answer. She shakes her head.
"I couldn't," she says, quietly. "Every time I closed my eyes... I saw him." I reach out and touch the side of her face letting my thumb graze over her cheekbone. She leans into my hand and sighs out. Today is going to be tough for her.
"What can I do?" I ask, eager to help. She smiles at me in return before kissing me lightly on the lips.
"You've already done so much," she says, gratefully. She holds on tight to her coffee cup as she shuffles next to me, snuggling down into my arms. Only now do I understand there's not really anything I can do. I just need to be here with her.
...
I'm sitting on the bed in a black fitted pants suit with rouged sleeves and a white blouse, ready to leave. I'm watching Arizona as she paces up and down the room in the fourth outfit that she's tried on. I hate seeing her so anxious.
"What about this one?" She asks, nervously. She's wearing a plain white dress that stops at the knee with a black blazer.
"You look great," I say, standing up and holding her hands. "You'd look great in a trash bag, but the outfit is really lovely." I'm trying to lighten the mood but I don't think she's really paying attention. Her face quickly changes, as though she's remembered something important.
"Should I wear pants?"
"What?" Her question confuses me... and then it clicks. One of Blake's charges is about attempted rape. "No... No, you wear the dress!" I say, adamantly. I understand her concern, of course. Victim-shaming is at an all time high. Now it's affecting the strong woman in front of me, and I can't help but feel pissed. "You know why you wear the dress? Because you look damn good in the dress!" I tell her, truthfully. I bring my hands to her face and look at her intensely, making sure she's taking all of this in. "You look smart, and professional, and beautiful. You wear what you damn well please!"
With that said, I pull her into an embrace and hold her tightly. The idea that she could even think that what she's wearing could be seen as inappropriate in a court of law makes me feel sick to my stomach. The fact is, rapists have used this against survivors before. 'She was asking for it', 'She led me on', 'What was she expecting wearing a dress like that?' For Arizona to think, even for a second, that she had some control over what happened completely breaks my heart.
...
Arizona
Amelia managed to get me inside the building, but I'm really not sure if I can manage the courtroom. No, come on. Pull yourself together, Arizona.
"You ready?" I hear my lawyer's voice from down the hallway and turn to face her. She strolls towards us, coffee cup in hand and full of confidence. She's pretty badass, but also kind of late.
"Oh, look who decided to show up," I quip.
"Please, Arizona, we've got this one in the bag. No pre-game talks needed. This will take a day, tops." She says in her husky voice. "You ready to be on that stand?" Quinn asks, turning her attention to Amelia.
"I'll see you inside," Amelia says, more so to me rather than her. She squeezes my hand and kisses my cheek before she walks through the big wooden doors.
"And, you?" She asks, now we're alone.
"I feel like I'm going to throw up," I answer, honestly.
...
Of course, James Blake pleaded 'not guilty' to three charges: assault in the first degree, assault with intent to commit rape, and misdemeanour stalking.
"Before we begin showcasing evidence, I must remind you that my client is asking for no money from Dr Blake." Quinn begins the opening statement, talking to the jury members. "And, she has no agenda. She has met this man once. That one time was the night that he attacked her."
"Objection - speculation," Blake's lawyer pipes up. He's a fat, old man; the only lawyer in Seattle that would take the case, my own lawyer assures me.
"Sustained," the judge says. "Allegedly attacked, Miss Mourey." Did Quinn just roll her eyes at him? I hope her cockiness doesn't blow this whole thing up. She continues talking to the jury.
"She has nothing to gain from this experience other than feeling safe in the knowledge that this man is locked behind bars." This time, she turns her attention to the judge. "Not only do I want to ensure that my client feels safe in her daily life, I also need to know that this man is unable to harm anyone again." It's my turn soon. I take a deep breath as Quinn says: "Prosecution calls Arizona Robbins to the stand."
I walk to the stand uneasily and sit down. I glance at Blake for the first time since I got here. He seems calm, unnerved. There are two people sitting behind him; Penny and a woman who I assume is their mother. He's also joined by a police officer, standing guard over him. I glance over to my side of the court, relieved to see I have a bit more support; Alex, Jo, Meredith, Maggie, Richard, and of course, Amelia. Others wanted to come, but it felt like too much pressure.
"Dr Robbins," Quinn's voice brings me out of my trance. "I know this will be difficult for you..." she looks at me with genuine sympathy. "But, can you please describe the events that took place upon leaving the hospital after your shift on October 31st 2018."
We've been over the wording I should use a thousand times, but it's completely fallen out of my head. I'm just going to have to roll with it.
"Uh... it was late, dark," I begin shakily. "I walked to my car, and as I was looking for my keys... I was grabbed... his arms restrained my whole body..." I'm having flashbacks in my head. I can't... I need to stay in the present. I catch my breath. "I couldn't escape," I actively stop another flashback from entering my mind. "He spoke to me..."
"What did he say?" Quinn presses. "What were his exact words?" I feel tears sting my eyes and I have to clear my throat before I speak.
"He said... he said he'd been watching me," I state. "He talked about the way I dressed and spoke and moved... He described it as 'fascinating'... He called me a temptress." I swallow the lump that's formed in my throat before continuing. "Then he said we were going to have some fun..." The flashbacks keep coming and this time I can't stop them. I remember kicking him and falling down, his huge body shadowing over mine.
"I managed to get out of his grip... I kicked him... I fell," I reel off the events. I try to slow my voice down, but to no avail. It's too much.
"And, how did you fall?" Quinn says.
"Oh... my-my leg..." I look to the jury and the judge apologetically, realising they aren't aware. "My left leg is prosthetic. All my weight was on it. And... I-I fell." I look at Quinn for some sign that I'm saying the right things.
"And, how did you lose the leg?"
"Objection - relevance!" The fat, old lawyer shouts again.
"Miss Mourey?" The judge asks.
"Oh, it's relevant!" She says, pointedly, at the other lawyer. "Dr Robbins..."
"Uh... a plane crash," I say, confused. Even I don't know where she's going with this.
"Ok..." She takes a pause. "So... when you were on the ground, staring up at this man who had just grabbed you and whispered some very suggestive things in your ear, how did you feel?"
"What?" I ask. We definitely didn't discuss this before.
"How did you feel?" She repeats.
"Well... I... I was scared." I say, timidly.
"Scared?" She pushes. What is this woman's deal?
"Yes, scared! Terrified, alright?"
"Ladies and gentleman of the jury," she turns as she addresses them. "Arizona Robbins is one of the most impressive women you or I will ever meet." Huh? Is she talking about me? "She is a survivor. She has lived through a car wreck, plane crash and a hospital shooting." There's whispers amongst the jury and the members of public that are also in the courtroom. "She is not a woman who spooks easily. Yet, in that moment, even with all her near-death experiences, this... 'man' had said and done things that terrified her completely. Things that made her worry for her own life." God, this is so uncomfortable. "Dr Robbins, please continue."
"He... he was angry," I say, trying to get the story back on track. "He grabbed me by my hair and threw me into the car window."
"Judge Stevens," Quinn addresses the Judge with papers. "This document shows the receipt from the garage that fixed the car. This was obtained by Alex Karev." The judge looks over the paper and nods for her to continue. "Please also observe that this incident is what gave Dr Robbins the scar across her cheek, requiring eight stitches, and above her eyebrow, requiring ten stitches." She hands Judge Stevens another piece of paper, presumably a hospital report, before motioning for me to continue. "Arizona..."
"I... um..." I'm scanning my brain to see where we're up to. "I felt dizzy, but... I could feel him holding me upright... and, that's... that's when he... put a needle in my neck." I manage to spit the words from my mouth. Another piece of paper is handed to the judge.
"The toxicology report," she states bluntly. "As you can see, alongside many, many other illegal substances, the defendant had mixed in flunitrazepam, also known as rohypnol; the date rape drug."
God, I hope my bit's over soon. If the prosecution was this hard, what's the defence going to be like? After he's scanned through the amount of drugs that were unwillingly pumped into my system, the judge glances over at me, with pity in his eyes.
"We're going to take a short break to process this information. We will resume at one o'clock," he states. "Court is in recess," he says, loudly, before bring his gavel down.
There's some hustle and bustle and people start to move but I'm frozen to where I'm sat. I look up at the ceiling and try to give my breathing a regular rhythm.
Amelia
God, that was so hard to watch. As she comes down from the stand, she's visibly shaking. I don't think I've ever seen her so pale. I just want to scoop her up in my arms and take her home. All six of us stand up as she makes her way towards us. Alex wraps a protective big brother arm around her and leads us out of the room and into the big reception area. Soon, everyone's chatting amongst themselves about anything but the trial.
Unnoticed by the others, I move over to Arizona and grab her hand. "What do you need?" I ask, quietly.
"I need a cigarette," she whispers back to me, squeezing my hand before quickly exiting the building.