Chapter 3: A Saving Grace

"You can have the worst crap in the world happen to you and you can get over it. All you gotta do is survive."

~Meredith Grey

In the span of an hour, Alex Karev's world shifted exponentially.

While Miranda Bailey's presence didn't help him gain any control over the situation he found himself in, she was able to fill in most of the unanswered questions.

"You father is in the county prison. They're holding him on a number of charges including possession of illegal substances as well as neglect. The big one though, is tax evasion. He didn't make a lot of money, but between you and me? The taxes added up big time." She gave him a soft smile and Alex couldn't help but return it.

"What about Aaron and Amber?"

"After they rushed you in for surgery, one of my coworkers sat down with the two of them and asked if they had any family that could be called. Amber didn't have any answers, but Aaron mentioned that you have an Uncle Mike? Your mother's brother?"

Alex recalled receiving the occasional birthday card from the man and his wife, sometimes with a $5 bill and a note attached, but he couldn't recall actually meeting him.

"Well, we placed a few phone calls and he drove up from Portland as soon as he could. He was granted temporary custody." Alex couldn't fully express the relief that he felt knowing his siblings hadn't ended up in a rundown foster home. He'd had more than his fair share of homes over the years and the knowledge that his siblings were with a family member was reassuring.

"When do I get to join them?" The moment the question left his mouth, he regretted asking it. He'd seen the look on Miranda's face on previous social workers and he didn't need her to answer him. He knew.

"Alex, Mike agreed to take two children into his home. He and his wife talked it over but with your history…he didn't feel that it was in his family's best interest to take you along."

His history. Alex flinched at the woman's words because, as harsh as it was to hear, it was again something out of his control. Did he fight at school? Sure. He could get over being teased for not having a lunch or for wearing out of style clothing. But what he couldn't get over was having kids bring up his drunk dad and his psycho mom. If he didn't fight back, nobody would. It was his job to defend the family.

As for the whole "best interest" situation, Alex decided he would call complete and utter bullshit. He'd been in Juvie for a month because it was in his brother and sister's "best interest" to have food in their stomachs. His dad had disappeared on one of his "tours" and had forgotten to send money for groceries that week. His Ma was having an episode and there wasn't anything to eat in the house. Did he try to smuggle a loaf of bread out of the grocery store? Yes. Should he have stashed the cans of soup he'd also tried to smuggle in a better place than his coat pockets? Also a yes.

Good Ol' Uncle Mike wouldn't know that Amber absolutely had to have Watson the Teddy Bear in order to go to sleep at night. He wouldn't know that Aaron was known to smuggle flashlights into the bedroom so that he could read even after bedtime was supposed to begin. An uncle that they'd never met before would have absolutely no idea of what was in their best interests. Plain and simple, that was Alex's job.

"Boy, I don't know what that creepy little clown has to offer you with its bug-eyed smile, but I'd like to move on with our conversation."

He was drawn back from his thoughts by Miranda placing a gentle hand on his arm. He didn't realize that he'd been staring at the clowns on the hospital room wall until she called him on it.

"What about my Ma? Where is she?" he questioned softly, almost positive that he already knew the answer.

"Given that your Uncle was granted temporary custody of your siblings, he was also given the ability to make decisions regarding your mother's course of treatment. She's in the psychiatric wing of another hospital and she'll be sent for treatment at a specialized facility on Monday. Now Alex, about you."

"What kind of facility is he shipping her off to?" He didn't break eye contact with his social worker and the dark look on his face made it clear that the conversation would not continue until he had an answer.

"Alex, it's not what you're thinking. It's a treatment facility. She'll be in good hands."

"I'm supposed to take care of her. It's my job to take care of her." He murmured softly, running his good hand through his hair in frustration. His Ma couldn't look out for herself and he definitely didn't trust a strange uncle looking for a premade family to do so.

"Alex. It was her job to take care of you." Miranda murmured softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged her off, trying his hardest to hold back the angry tears that threatened to spill over. He was supposed to stay in control so that he could protect the three of them. And here he was with absolutely no say in the matter.

"Alex, I need to talk to you about your options. As a fifteen year old, you're old enough to have some input in what you'd like to do. I'd like to include you on the decision making, but if you aren't going to cooperate then I'll be acting in what I feel is your best interest." The woman didn't show any signs of emotion in her voice, but one look at her eyes was all it took for him to see that she understood exactly how hard this was for him.

"What do you mean, what I'd like to do? I'd like to go home with my siblings and pretend like this didn't happen."

"That isn't one of the options Sweetheart."

"Well which is the lesser of the evils?" He grumbled softly, stealing a glance in her direction.

"You have your choice. Given your history of violence as well as your record in Juvie, no matter how noble your actions might have been," Miranda paused and shared a knowing glance with him.

"Typically, I would have no choice but to place you in a group home or a youth facility. You and I both know that the term "Juvenile Detention" has a tendency to turn people away. However, I called in a few favors and there is a space in a single child home if you want it. I have a parent that is more than willing to take you in, if that's what you choose to do."

"Who is it?" he questioned softly, looking in the direction of the window. The nerves that he felt earlier were back and at an all time high. The knot in his stomach had grown to the point where he could feel its weight and he knew that the minute Miranda Bailey left him alone, he was probably going to vomit the lukewarm chicken broth and jello back up.

"Her name is Arizona, and if I'm being honest, I think she's your best hope."