Amelia
Arizona is waiting outside when I pull up to the house. She opens the passenger door quickly and rushes herself inside the car. She takes a deep breath before she says anything.

"Hey," she says, smiling weakly.

"How you doing?" I ask, reserving myself from asking the multitude of questions whirling around my head. What I really want to ask is: 'How are you sleeping?', 'Are you in pain?', 'Are you okay being alone here?', 'Do you need me here more often?', 'Have you been eating enough?', 'Do you think the drugs have left your system?', 'What do you need?' But, I'm not here for that. I'm here to be supportive.

"Fine," she says, quickly. She's so quiet. I don't like it. Arizona's always full of chat. She's infamous for it at the hospital. I put my hand on her forearm and squeeze lightly.

"You don't have to lie to me," I say, firmly. "I'm not here to judge, or to worry, or to tell you what to do. I'm here to listen."

"I'm a little nervous," she whispers. "It took me a while to get through the door by myself. I felt on edge being outside alone." Her brows are furrowed together and I can tell she's contemplating whether or not she should have told me that.

"Well, you got through the door. That's a good start," I smile at her as I start to drive towards the hospital.

"Thanks for coming to get me," she says, a little more relaxed now. "And, for everything else. You're so good to me. I don't know what I would have done without you these past two weeks."

"You don't have to thank me," I can feel my face becoming pink. I've never been good at taking compliments. Especially from pretty girls. Oh my God, there I go again. Stop it, Amelia. Now is not the time.

We talk comfortably about anything other than the hospital for the next twenty minutes. There's jokes and laughter all the way... Until we reach the hospital car park. I definitely feel a shift in the atmosphere. She's completely silent, staring at her fidgeting hands. I park in a space where we can see the main entrance clearly. I turn the ignition off and unbuckle my belt but Arizona doesn't move. I look at her for a few moments and feel horribly sad, before remembering that I need to be strong for her. I get out of the car and make my way round to Arizona's side. I open the door and she still doesn't move; head still down, lips pursed. She's shaking slightly. I tuck some strands of hair behind her ear and rest my hand on her shoulder. She looks at me with shiny eyes, tears threatening to spill over.

"I'm here," I whisper. "Every step of the way."

She swallows the lump in her throat and then blinks a couple of times, making the tears disappear. She exhales sharply and gets herself out the car. She grabs my left upper arm, implying that she needs my support. I loop my arm so she can keep it there as we walk side by side towards Grey Sloan. My right hand covers hers as I feel her grip tighten. She glances to the side of the hospital where the attack happened and I can hear her breathing quicken. Her eyes are stretched wide with anxiety.

"It's okay. It's daytime. Lots of people about." I state simply in a quiet voice. "Keep going. I'm here." She's tense. If I let her go, I'm fairly certain she would collapse.

"Where's my car?" she asks out of the blue. Oh, right. No one's told her about this yet.

"It's at Karev's," I explain. "He took it to the garage and got it fixed so you didn't have to worry about it."

"That's... that's so kind of him," she says in a daze. We're inside the hospital now and we've come to a standstill. She loosens her grip on my arm and lets her arm fall to her side. I put my hand in the middle of her back and gently guide her down the corridor.

"Did Mer see you this week?" I try and distract her away from focusing too much on what's happening around her.

"Um... yeah, she popped in yesterday actually," she says, calmly. "She gave me some diazepam to try and help me sleep. They didn't really work."

"You're still not sleeping?" I try not to sound concerned, but the drugs will have been out of her system for days. It's certainly not them keeping her awake anymore.

"Not really," she shakes her head. "I have no trouble getting to sleep but then I'll wake up at like 3am with night sweats. I dunno... maybe it's anxiety or something."

I'm about to reply when her eyes change. She freezes and her expression turns from nervous to terrified. Her mouth is slung open but no sound is coming out. I feel her entire body tremble. I assume she's changed her mind about talking to someone in psych, but this reaction is a little... off.

"Arizona... Hey..." I try to get her to look at me but she doesn't move. Then I realise it's not the psych ward she's staring at, but a patient. A tall man with dark features having a consult with Jo Karev.

"That's him..." It comes out as a whisper but as she continues her voice gets louder. "Amelia, that's him." As she backs up a couple of steps, her breathing is fast and erratic. I study the man's face. She's right. It is him; the man who attacked her. The man who drugged her and tried to rape her. Suddenly, Alex appears and carefully holds Arizona by both arms.

"Arizona, it's okay," he says trying to calm her down. "If you're not ready, we can reschedule." He assumes the same as me, not having heard her words.

"Get Jo out of there now! That's him!" She screams, tears rolling down her cheeks. He looks at me to confirm if it's true. I nod my head and watch Alex as he rushes into the room and forces Jo out. He locks the door behind him and roars at the man in the hospital bed. Don't hit him, Alex. Don't hit him.

I dial 911 as quickly as I can. "Police... please... Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital..."

"What's going on?" Jo asks, completely confused by what's just happened.

"That's the bastard who attacked Arizona," I explain.

"Oh, my God..." Jo grits her teeth and her own eyes fill with tears. "Where is she?" What? She's gone!

"Oh, fuck. She was right here!" I start to panic.

"She can't be far. You go that way, I'll go this way." Jo says, gesturing in different directions.

I rush up the corridor, checking every room I pass. Where the hell is she? I look in through the window of the supplies cupboard but can't see her. I push the door open and can hear her sobs.

"Jo, over here," I shout up the corridor before searching the room. She's sat in between two of the shelving units, hugging her knees to her chest. Her breathing is all over the place and the crying is tumultuous. I'm immediately on the floor in front of her, kneeling down to look at her face.

"Shh... it's okay," I say as soothingly as I can. My hands cover hers and I search my head for something helpful to say. "The police are coming. They're taking him away."

"He can't hurt you," I hear Jo's voice next to me. I didn't even notice her come in. "He can't hurt anyone."

"P-Please... please make sure Alex hasn't killed him," she says between heavy breaths. Jo nods and kisses her on the forehead.

"It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay," she says, before leaving to check on her husband.

The crying has subsided but is still present. She's definitely having a panic attack. With her legs now flat to the floor, I wrap my arms around her. One of my hands supports her head, while the other rubs her back. I put my cheek against hers and subtly rock us from side to side. She clings to my shirt and buries her head into my shoulder. It takes several minutes, but she eventually calms down.

Arizona
She's stayed with me the whole time, calming me down and reassuring me through a panic attack. She just knows what to do and what to say. I want to tell her how grateful I am but I can't verbalise anything right now. I feel safe in her arms. I don't want to move but we can't spend the rest of the day in the supply cupboard. I lean out of the embrace and rest my head against the wall behind me. I give her a small smile and hold on to her hands.

"Are you alright?" She asks me. I'm exhausted but I nod my head anyway. I need to close my eyes for a few seconds. I can feel more tears coming. She must be able to tell because I feel her kiss my cheek. "It's okay," she whispers, before placing another kiss on my forehead. "It's okay," she whispers again, before peppering my face with light, comforting kisses. When she stops, I open my eyes.

Her gentle eyes look into mine with concern. I bring my hands up to her face and my eyes dart around trying to read her expression. I don't know if this is a good idea, but I'm going to do it anyway.

I lean forward, and place a soft, slow kiss on her lips. As it ends, I open my eyes and check for some sort of reaction. There's a pause. I've definitely shocked her. But, she responds with another gentle kiss, putting her arms back around me and pulling our bodies closer together. It's so passionate that there's no way she hasn't thought about this before now. Much to my dismay, the kiss comes to an end. Neither of us deepen it. This isn't the time or the place. She leans her forehead against mine before kissing that spot one last time and pulling me into an embrace. She moves to be next to me, and runs her fingers through my hair as I snuggle into her shoulder. We don't talk about it. We don't talk about anything. We just sit together, appreciating the quiet that falls around us and soaking up each others presence.