Amelia

It's not long before I get a visit from the police. They ask me questions and I answer them as well as I can. I'm still in a complete daze. Has this actually just happened? As soon as they're finished, I make my way to the room Karev tells me Arizona is in. I know how she's going to feel when she wakes up and I want to be there to help her. The scene around her is much calmer than before. Meredith is sitting in a chair beside her bed, flicking through the papers, probably checking she hasn't missed anything. A heart monitor beats steadily to the side of Arizona. She's attached to one IV bag, just full of fluids to keep her hydrated.

"What did they find?" I ask Meredith keeping my face deadpan.

"You were right. It was meth... Mixed in with some other stuff."

"Other stuff?"

"Just an absolute cocktail of drugs. She'll be okay, it's just going to be really rough for a few days."

"And bloods?" She knows what I'm asking. Did the dirty needle give Arizona HIV?

"Don't worry, she's clear of all infection."

A sigh of relief runs through my entire body. The attack was brutal and disgusting, but it could have ended so much worse.

"Do you mind if I join you?" I ask her, quietly.

"Here, take my seat. I should have been gone two hours ago." She gathers a few things before she walks up to me and takes a proper look at my face. "Are you okay?" she asks, concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah... It... It just wasn't nice to see, y'know?" I start to tear up again, feeling completely overwhelmed that not only was my friend attacked, but she was attacked by someone who uses drugs as a weapon. How messed up is that?

"I know," Meredith says calmly as she squeezes my forearm comfortingly. "Call me if you need me. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Mer," I say as she leaves me with a sympathetic smile.

I turn my attention back to the woman lying helpless in the hospital bed. Why would anybody do this to someone who's dedicated their life to saving children? To a dedicated mother? To someone so sweet and caring? To a woman who's already suffered and lost so much? Why? Why would somebody hurt her like this? The world is so cruel, that doesn't change.

As I curl up in the chair next to her, I study her face properly. They did a good job with the stitches. Ten little lines from her hairline flowing diagonally past her left eyebrow. The other eight lined up as neatly as soldiers across her right cheek. Dark rings surround her eyes. It's swollen slightly, yet her face is still perfect. Still soft and gentle despite everything the world continues to put her through.

A wave of emotion washes over me and I reach out a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of her face. Tears sting my eyes as I notice the marks up and down her arms; bruises and fingernail marks caused by evil hands. She really did put up a good fight.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," I whisper. I furiously wipe away the tears that have escaped from my eyes.

She looks so delicate that I feel the need to take her hand in mine, as if to let her know there's someone here who wants to help.

...

Suddenly, I'm woken up by erratic breathing and whimpering. It makes my entire body jolt. It's Arizona. I must have fallen asleep, head on the bed, body still in the chair. It's light outside now. She's not fully awake yet, but already in big deal of pain.

"Shhh," I try to soothe her by grazing a thumb over the top of the hand I'm still holding.

Instantaneously, she's sat bolt upright, looking around the room terrified. I already know she doesn't have a clue what's going on.

"Arizona?" Her eyes meet mine.

"I-I-I... can't breathe," she says in between laboured breaths. Quickly, I retrieve an oxygen mask and fit it to her head. I support her back with one arm and gently stroke her bicep with my free hand.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," I try again. "Just take deep breaths."

I don't realise how close our faces are until I see the vulnerability in her eyes. She's staring at me, searching my face for answers without asking a single question. When I'm happy that her breathing has returned to a regular and sustainable rhythm, I remove the oxygen mask and guide her into drinking a glass of water. She drinks it so quickly she almost chokes.

"Steady, steady..." She nods and continues to drink every last drop carefully. I put the glass to one side and ease her back into the bed.

"You're okay, you're safe," I reassure her. "You were attacked, but you're safe now."

Her eyes begin to tear up before she speaks, "Amelia? What's happening to me?"

"Listen to me," I gently take both of her arms in my hands to gain her full attention. I speak to her slowly and gently. "You're going to be fine. You've been injected with some... stuff. But, you're okay. There's no infection. We need to check your organs in the next few days, but everything is presenting as normal right now. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" She nods and I feel her relax almost immediately. Though more relaxed now, the tears and noises of pain are still there.

"I-I don't feel good," the statement is child-like and makes my heart break. She allows a few tears to roll freely down her cheeks. I know that feeling - the comedown she's experiencing. It's confusing and depressing and physically painful. I would do anything to make it stop for her. But, I can't. It's a waiting game. I make the decision to lie next to her so we are side-by-side. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and reposition our bodies so her head can rest comfortably next to my collar bone. I hold her close to try and subside any tremors she may be experiencing from the drugs. This calms her considerably. We stay like this for a few minutes until I feel as though I have to break the silence.

"I really wish I didn't have to tell you this... But I want you to be prepared," I sigh. "The next few days are going to be absolute Hell."