Between writer's block and family chaos this is a bit later than I had anticipated. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought. They help me figure out what's working and they make me feel like a good writer too. (:

Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's or To Kill a Mockingbird. I love them dearly though.

"It's a beautiful day to save lives."

~Derek Shepherd

Bailey bought him two sets of t-shirts and a fresh pair of jeans at Walmart and, as he takes them out of the small plastic bag, it occurs to him that as of right now they are the only things he owns. He literally has nothing but the clothes on his back.

The realization hits him like a truck. He doesn't have anything except for these two outfits. He sets them in one of the large wooden drawers of the dresser next to his bed before collapsing against the plush mattress.

His most valuable belongings came off the clearance rack at a super store.

It's almost enough to make him laugh, but the truth of the matter is that rock bottom is a bit more scary once you actually hit it. He can't help but wonder what possessed Arizona to take him in. He's sure she leads a busy life, what with her being a surgeon and all, so why him? More importantly, why now?

He's a fifteen year old boy with a record and no other options. Sad as it might seem, it's not exactly unusual in the foster care system. What made him different from any other kid? Why did she let him come into her home?

He's grateful, to some extent. It's nice to have a roof over his head and he's never had a room to himself before, but it's almost too good to be true. He can't stop wondering what she wants out of the arrangement. His first set of foster parents were in it for the money. The second set enjoyed the praise they got for taking kids in when they had nowhere else to go. People always want something out of situations like this.

Alex could usually figure it out upon first meeting his new "parents" but this time, it was a lot harder. Maybe it was because of her casual interactions with Bailey, or perhaps the way she welcomed him into her home with grace. There were no locks on doors or "you can anything on this shelf" moments thus far, but for the life of him he hasn't seen what Arizona gets out of taking him in. Stretching out against the plush white comforter he decides that maybe, just maybe, things are exactly what they seem this time.

He's as "settled in" as a boy with two t-shirts and a pair of jeans can be, but he knows the drill well enough to know that he's not supposed to come out quite yet. He decides that he can wait another ten or fifteen minutes before hobbling down to the kitchen. That will give Bailey enough time to fill Arizona in on his situation, and if he's lucky, avoid a Q & A session after.

Grabbing his crutches from the edge of the bed where he left them, he looks about the room. A bookshelf sits on one wall, and he can't help but notice that several of its shelves are already filled. He runs his finger along the spines of several of them.

Grey's Anatomy. He cringes at the size of what looks to be a medical textbook. He's never thought much about being a doctor, but one look at that book is enough to turn him away.

Milk and Honey. A poetry book that half the girls at his old school carried around with them. Their lockers were filled with poems about self-love.

Hard pass.

He skims through a few more titles before one catches his eye. Pulling a light pink book off the shelf, he almost smiles as he reads the title. To Kill a Mockingbird. They had to read this in his 9th grade English class last year and, though everyone else in the class had hated the book, it had quickly become his favorite. He thumbs through the yellowed pages, taking note of the pages that have been dog-eared and the lines that have been highlighted. Someone else had obviously enjoyed it as much as he did.

He hobbles in the direction of the bed and sets the book down on the nightstand. He'll read it later tonight when he goes to bed.

He decides that it's probably about time to head back to the kitchen when he hears a soft knock on his door. He sits for a moment before realizing that neither Amber nor Aaron are here to burst through. Whoever is on the other side is waiting for him to give them consent. He clears his throat and opens the book to one of its first pages before giving a gruff "come in".

Arizona's head pops through the door and a blinding smile sits on her face, it only seems to widen when she sees what book he has in his hands.

"Bailey just left, she said to tell you that you'd better stay on your best behavior." He gives her a nod and a tight lipped smile. This is the moment that the awkward reality sets in. They're two strangers sharing a house and nothing more. He fully expects Arizona to shut the door and leave, but once again the woman surprises him. She opens the door a bit more and gestures to the empty space next to him on the bed.

"May I?" She questions, giving him a soft smile.
"Go for it."

The older woman takes a seat on the edge of the bed, gently taking the book that he's been fiddling with out of his hands.

"This used to be my absolute favorite book when I was about your age. My family moved around a lot when I was a kid. My dad was in the military, so we lived wherever he was stationed. You'd think traveling around the world, the schools would be different but you'd be wrong. No matter where I went, the same standard cliques applied." She shares a knowing glance in his direction and Alex finds himself scooting closer to the edge of the bed. She's definitely not wrong. No matter what school he's gone to, he's always found the same kinds of kids. The jocks, the nerds, the preppy Christian kids, they all stayed pretty consistent.

"The people were the same, and most of the time, I didn't think they were really worth getting to know. Why make friends I was going to have for a few months when I could get to know characters I could carry with me." Alex doesn't know exactly how to respond to her, but he finds himself nodding. English had always been his favorite class in school, next to woodshop or gym class, and it was because of that very reason. He didn't have to interact with anyone to get to know the characters in books. If he attached himself to a book, he could carry it around with him. People come and go, but a good story sticks with you.

"My brother and I were a lot like Jeb and Scout. Tim was older than me by two years, but he was still my best friend. The summer we read this book together, I had these long blonde curls that went down to my waist. I had him cut my hair until it reached just above my ears. My mom threw a fit but it was worth it. That was the summer that I came out to my family." Arizona's eyes go to a distant place and a smile graces her face at the memories. Alex, on the other hand, is completely taken by surprise.

"Wait. You're gay?" She hadn't ogled him like a lot of women her age usually did when they first met him, but he figured it was because she was more of the mothering type than the normal cougar. Arizona turns to see the look on his face, and though she tries to maintain composure, ends up laughing hysterically.

"Alex, I am the gayest of the gays. That's not going to be an issue, is it?"

"No! No, no no. Not an issue, just a surprise." He scratches the back of his neck and feels a blush begin to creep up his neck towards his cheeks.

"Good. Because I'm a military brat. I was raised to be the good man in a storm, and it looks like you're going through one right now. I'd love to help you get to safer shores." She gives him a shoulder nudge as she wipes a few stray tears away from her eyes.

He'd made her laugh so hard she cried. Great. He's almost positive that the blush that was once creeping up his neck has now exploded across his face. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair for a moment.

"There's just one kind of folks, right?" He questions with a soft smile. Arizona returns it with a nod.

"You're right. There's just one kind of folks. Folks."

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