A/N: Sorry for disappearing on you guys for the past few weeks. I got the night shift rotation for the next few mouths and during my days off instead of writing and posting more chapters, I've been sleeping. I'm going to try to post more often because I'm starting to get use to this schedule, but I'm not going to promise anything just yet. Anyways hope you enjoy this chapter and have a great weekend!
Chapter Five
The biography of Amelia Shepherd, told by Theodora Montgomery, who heard from Addison Montgomery, who heard from Derek Shepherd. Narrated by Arizona Robbins.
Amelia Shepherd is not only Derek's little sister. She is also the youngest sibling out of the whole Shepherd clan. Amelia is a neurosurgeon at the Oceanside Wellness Group located in Los Angeles California. She graduated from Harvard, at the top of class, and then went on to Johns Hopkins for her surgical residency. During the time she spent at Johns Hopkins the two of us never crossed paths. Johns Hopkins is a lot bigger than Seattle Grace Mercy West, and the employees at Johns Hopkins don't gossip. What you do behind closed doors stays behind those closed doors. I wasn't a social butterfly back then so I didn't have any friends, meaning Amelia and I never crossed paths inside or outside of work.
I say this because during Amelia's first year at Johns Hopkins, Amelia was involved in a skiing accident at Blue Knob Resort in Claysburg Pennsylvania, which is about 160 miles away from Baltimore Maryland. Amelia and her friends were skiing down a black diamond trail. Amelia wasn't that great of a skier, she had a hard time keeping up with her friends. Well while she was on this black diamond trail her friends went left while she went right. Right was the wrong way to go, because the trail turned into a triple black diamond, which she couldn't handle. To make a long story short Amelia crashed and burned. She broke her right arm and dislocated her right shoulder, while spraining her left ankle. Her surgeries and physical therapy sessions were successful and she was back in the operating room within four mouths. However during those four mouths Amelia became addicted to prescription drugs. Her addiction went unnoticed by friends and family for about three years.
Her family found out about her addiction during Christmas when the Shepherd kids were home for the holidays. Amelia had gone over to a friend's house to get high before the family dinner. On her way home, Amelia, overdosed and crashed her car, well Derek's car into a tree right outside of the Shepherd's house. Lucky for Amelia, Derek was home at the time of the crash and was able to save her life. Derek has never forgiven her, and according to Addison, he probably never will. The Shepherd's got their daughter the help she needed and has been sober every since then. She's even a motivational speaker when her schedule allows it.
After her residency at Johns Hopkins she was offered an attending position and she took it. She was an attending at Johns Hopkins for about three years before Addison, her sister from another mister, called asking that she fly out to Los Angeles to help consult on a case. Since she and Addison were close friends she flew out to L.A. no questions asked. Addison had a 10 mouth old baby with Craniopharyngloma, something Amelia could do in her sleep, however the pressure against the Optic Tract was creating a problem meaning that surgery could not be performed and the baby would have to undergo radiation therapy. Amelia didn't listen to the hospital board and preformed the surgery anyway. The surgery was a success, but it cost her her job at Johns Hopkins.
Being the loving friend and sister that Addison was, she gave Amelia a place to stay and got her a job at the Oceanside Wellness Group where she has been ever since.
The end?
That can't be the end. I'm missing something. I dreamt about Amelia Shepherd. I was in her house, I drank her wine, and then I attacked her. Dreams happen once in a blue moon for me, but I absolutely positivity DO NOT fantasize about killing anyone. That is not how the Passenger and I work. We both take the time to find the right victim, and once we finally reach a mutual agreement on a victim we began to learn about them. Learn about their past and present so we can help shape their future. After we learn all there is to learn about them, we then take the time to stalk them. Where do they work, and for how long? What do they do for fun and whom do they do it with?
Once the Passenger and I can answer those questions, the Passenger slips, ever so slightly, into the driver's seat of my body. Once he has full control of my body he makes our presence known. I'm no longer that shadowy figure lurking in the background that makes the hair on the back of neck stand up. I no longer cause you to continuously look over your shoulder when it's dark outside. When the Passenger is in control you no longer have that feeling of being watched. Together we step out of the shadows and into the light, and for a brief moment our victim gives a sigh of relief because the Passenger uses the physical appearance of Arizona Elizabeth Robbins to his full advantage.
On the outside, 5'8, 150 pound, blonde hair, blue eyed, Arizona Robbins looks non-threatening. Now on the inside, that is a whole other story. I am an eighth degree black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jutsu. I didn't have pictures or posters of my favorite boy or girl band when I grew up. I had newspaper clippings from my favorite serial killers. I didn't get excited about Barbie dolls or dresses, knives and blood would always set my teeth on edge. Those hidden details make it easy for us to prey upon the weak so we can enjoy a night pure fun…well fun on our side at least.
From kill number 2 to kill number 229 that has been our ritual for killing people. We've encountered no close calls, and we aren't getting that board, so why the change? Is this the works over another Dark Passenger that I've stumble upon during my life? Am I going to be caught in the middle of a war as two Dark Passengers fight against each other to see who gets the right to control my body at least once a mouth? I guess only time will tell.
Amelia's sudden and awkward appearance into my life has peaked my interest, and in an Arizona Robbins not so legal background check, Amelia Shepherd…seems like Amelia Shepherd. The only other dark thing in her past was her father being gunned down over a watch, which she wasn't present to witness. Derek was the witness. She hasn't been accused of murder, rape or molestation and she hasn't been arrested and then let go because of 'faulty evidence'. Her credit card statements and ATM withdrawals are normal. Her patients, her patient's treatment and the outcome of the patients after treatment are normal as well.
I've checked every hospital, nursing home and hospice within a 50-mile radius of the Oceanside Wellness Group and her home, and I can't find anything that might suggest that she is going to some other hospital with a fake name, fake patient and fake medical problem. To the Dark Passenger and I, Amelia Shepherd looks and acts likes she is truly innocent.
For the past two days I have gone over Amelia's background story with a fine toothcomb and nothing seems to get my attention or the Passenger's attention. I know if Amelia were a true monster like me, the Passenger would have chuckled over a recent purchase on her credit card statement. He probably would have laughed about how she chooses to treat her patients or at one of her aliases she uses at another hospital.
None of this makes sense. I let out a loud sigh, as I go through Amelia's story one more time looking for anything I might have missed. However I'm pulled out of Amelia biography when I feel Callie's hand grab onto mine and intertwine our fingers together. I look over to her and give her a wink and smile before I lightly squeeze her hand. I just turn onto Roanoke St and it would seem like the traffic gods are in my favor for most of the drive because we hit every green light until it comes time for us to make a left hand turn onto 10th Ave.
At the red light I take a moment to glance over towards my right. Callie is still holding my hand while she hums along to the Disney song I wanna be just like you. After I look at Callie, I look in my rearview mirror to see Jackie sitting right behind me staring out the window intrigue by the cars, people and snow that are just outside of the car. William is sitting behind Callie with two small toy cars in his hands. He is in his own world while he races a Mustang and a Cameo on an invisible racecourse. Sofia is all the way in the back of Tahoe just staring out the window like her sister, but not really. Jackie's eyes seem to be darting around at her surroundings while Sofia is just staring at a fixed point on the window. The lights are on, but no one is home.
Without really telling her, Sofia, knows to be bubbly and happy around Callie, Mark, Lexie, Teddy and Addison, but when she is with me she's calm and quiet. I let out another sigh and lightly squeeze Callie's hand before I turn my attention back to the road while I wait for my green arrow.
Callie refuses to drive when it's snowing outside, because the last time she drove when it was snowing she got into an accident that almost cost her and Sofia's life. So when it's snowing in Seattle the Robbins' family becomes a single car household. The five of us are in our own world when a Yellow Hummer enters the middle of the intersection waiting to make a left hand turn. The light on his side is turning yellow so he takes his foot off the brake getting ready to make his left turn, however a dark blue Town & Country Mini Van decides to floor it at the last second casing the Hummer to T-Bone the Town & Country.
After the accident it's Callie's turn to squeeze my hand as she witnesses the accident. Right after the accident William decides to crash his toy cars together while making 'crashing' noises before he drops his cars onto the floor.
I look at William through the mirror before making the same crashing noise, "seems about right little man."
"Don't encourage him," Callie scolds me.
"Sorry," I whisper to Callie, before I give William a wink with a small smirk. William doesn't say anything as he just smiles back. After I get a smile from my son I go back to looking out the windshield. The owner of the Town & Country, a short burette, gets out of the van to circle her car looking at the damage. After she gets a good look she proceeds to walk up to the driver side door of the Hummer while yelling and screaming at him.
You cock sucking motherfucker! You hit my Goddamn car!
When the burette is done calling the Hummer names, the owner of the Hummer, a taller, more fuller red headed women emerges from the Hummer. The light was yellow about to turn red, which means slowdown, you dumb bitch! The red head yells back before she shoves the other women onto the ground.
This is better than coffee…Next to people watching I love watching road rage when I'm in the car. The burette gets up from the muddy snowy ground and tries to lunge at the red head, but the red head side steps her and gets the burette in a headlock.
I'm fully smiling by now as I watch the two women try to fight each other while bystanders try to break them apart. Morning violence is just as good as a cup of coffee in my world. "I think it will be okay if we leave." Callie says quietly.
I don't say anything as I just look over at her. "There are plenty of people here to help the police when they arrive, and I don't think we should expose this to our kids. Especially Sofia."
I take quick glance in the mirror at my kids. Jackie is still intrigued by the car's surroundings. William is trying to come up with a way to get his toy cars off the ground without unbuckling his seat belt, and Sofia is now looking straight ahead at the scene of the two women fighting with the smallest hint of a smile crossing her lips, with a splash of amusement in her eyes.
"Okay," I whisper back as I slowly drive around the accident scene.
After we past the accident it only takes us another minute or two before we pull up to Brightwater.
"Bye bye," the twins say in unison as William pushes open the door. Once the twins are out the car, Sofia quietly exits the car. "Bye mommy, bye mama." She says before she closes the door.
William and Jackie are running to the entrance of building with a group of kids that are from their class, while Sofia walks inside and is joined immediately by Zola, Samantha, and Courtney, two other girls that are in her class.
When the kids are inside is when I put the car into drive and start our drive into work. "What were you like when you were seven years old?" Callie asks as she turns off the radio.
"Quiet with no friends." I reply back.
"No friends?"
"None," I say. "Teddy is my first and only friend."
The car is quiet for a few minutes before Callie turns to face me, "how did you-"
"Practice," I cutoff.
"Practice," Callie repeats before she turns away to go back to staring out the window.
I just nod my head slightly as I let the car go back to its original silence. "I didn't start making 'friends' until I was in the sixth grade." I say after a few minutes.
"What's with the quotations?"
"They weren't really my friends, Callie. They were just people that I used to help give the allusion that I was a normal teenager." I pause for a moment. "I've been 'friends' with kids whose parents went through a divorce, kids who lost a parent, a sibling or a pet, and at the end of day I could care less. Shit happens, move on."
Callie just nods her head while she continues to look out the window. "So what, did you make a mental note about what you did right and what you did wrong when you kept or lost a 'friend' during a troubling part of their life?"
"Pretty much," I say nonchalantly.
Again we are quiet for a few minutes before it's Callie's turn to break our silence. "I don't Sofia to be like you," Callie blurts out as we come to stop to let a train cross the road.
I don't say anything while slowly turn my head to face her.
"She thinks I'm stupid and that I don't see how she pretends to be bubbly and happy when she's around me. She thinks that just because I'm in the other room I don't know that she's being quiet and sitting in the corner with Roxie all by herself instead of playing with twins or watching TV." Callie pauses for a moment to go back to looking out the window. "I want to stop whatever this is before its too late. I think Dr. Fowler can stop her before she-"
"Becomes a serial killer like her mother," I cutoff.
Callie doesn't respond right away as she looks down at the floor before looking up out the window. "Is that so wrong?" Callie whispers.
"No," I reply back. "This isn't something I want any of my kids to go through. Growing up is heard enough, but add the pressure of being a monster. Not fun."
Callie doesn't say anything back as we quietly wait for the train. No more than 2 minutes after I spoke the train started to pass us, and the habit of counting cars with the kids kicks in and I count each car as it passes us by. After about 10 minutes I count fourteen cars…fourteen how convenient. It's convenient because fourteen happens to be the magical number in my current conversation with Callie…
Being fourteen years old is never easy, even for an artificial human like myself. It's that magical age where biology takes over, and even when the fourteen year old in question is more interested in clinical biology than the more popular type of biology with her classmates at South Grosse Point High School, it stills rules the world with an iron fist.
Tim and Nick were trying to layout a logical plan to help get me squared away, which was their term for making things, or people, neat and orderly. But there is nothing logical about a fledgling Dark Passenger flexing its wings for the first time and beating them against the bars of the cage that Tim and Nick had put him in.
In a dark perfect world, my father, the Colonel, would have been the best person to learn from because he was detective in the Marines/Navy. But ever since that faithful day in North Carolina when I was ten years old, the Colonel hasn't been biggest fan, and he still isn't to this day.
It was Tim and Nick who taught me all the things I needed to learn to become safely and quietly me, they turned me from a wild, blossoming monster into the Dark Avenger you see today.
Tim was only sixteen at the time so he really didn't know a lot about killing people and hiding the evidence, but the Colonel did. And the Colonel loved his only son and would spend time with him every Sunday between 2 and 5 pm. Every Sunday the Colonel taught Tim how to be a great detective, like him, and every Sunday evening between 7 and 9 pm Tim taught me what the police look for and how to cover my tracks.
You would think they would know everything if you combined Tim, Nick and the Colonel together, but they didn't. They didn't know about Jennifer McGuire, for example, a particularly charming example of pubescent humanity who had earned my attention during our two-year stay in Grosse Point, Michigan.
Jennifer was both taller and larger than me, and she was also two years older than I was. She was in my PE class and felt that it was her God given right to make my life miserable whenever possible. If she was right, God must have been very pleased with all of her effort that she put into it.
This was long before I became a living ice cube, and every time Jennifer made her presence known to me I got heated and some very head feelings would build up inside of me. This always seemed to please Jennifer and urge her on to greater heights of creativity in her persecution of a young Arizona Robbins. We both knew at some point this was going to come to an end, and it did, but it wasn't the way Jennifer had in mind.
On Friday October 25 1991, Smokey Wilson, a popular janitor stumbled into one of the biology labs at South Grosse Point High School to find Jennifer and I sorting out our personality conflict. It wasn't the classical high school face off of filthy words and swinging fists, although I believe that might have been what Jennifer had in mind. But Jennifer didn't know that the Dark Passenger was going to show up to this altercation, and so Smokey found Jennifer securely taped to the table with a swatch of gray duct tape over her mouth, and me standing above her with a scalpel, trying to remember what I had learned in biology class on the day we dissected a frog.
The Colonel came to get me while dressed in is Marine Dress Blues. He listened to an outraged assistant principal Watkins, who described the scene, quoted the student handbook, and demanded to know what the Colonel was going to do about it. The Colonel just stared at the man until his words finally died away into silence. For extra dramatic effect the Colonel stared at the assistant principal for a few more seconds before he turned his icy cold blue eyes onto me.
"Is this man correct, Arizona?" the Colonel asked. "Did you do what he said you did?"
"Yes," I simply replied, and the Colonel just nodded his head.
"You see?" Mr. Watkins said. He was about to say more but fell silent again when the Colonel turned to stare at him. Silently telling him to shut up, which he did.
When Mr. Watkins was silent again, the Colonel turned back around to face me. "Why did you do it?" the Colonel asked me.
"She was picking on me." That sounded somewhat reasonable, so I also added, "A lot. All the time."
"And so you taped her to a table," he said, coldly.
"Un-huh."
"And you picked up a scalpel."
"I wanted her to stop," I said.
"Why didn't you tell somebody?" the Colonel asked.
I just shrugged.
"Why did you tell Tim, Nick or me?" he asked.
"I could take care it," I said.
"Looks like you didn't take care of it so well," he said.
I didn't know how to answer that statement so I just broke eye contact with the Colonel and looked down at my feet. I don't know how long I was I staring at my feet for, but it seems like the conversation wouldn't continue until I said something. When I noticed that the room was still quiet, I looked up from my feet to see the Colonel still standing there looking right at me. His face was emotionless, as were his eyes. He wasn't mad, sad, angry or upset. The more he looked at me with his emotionless face the more it made me feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," I finally said. I wasn't really sure if I meant it because I'm pretty sure I'm not sorry for any of the actions that I do today. But it seemed like it was the right thing to say at that moment, and nothing else was popping up in my mind at the moment either. I'm pretty sure the Colonel didn't believe that I was sorry as he nodded at me again.
"Let's go," he said to me.
"Now wait just a minute," Mr. Watkins said. "We still have things to discuss."
"You mean the fact that you let a known bully push my daughter to this kind of confrontation because of poor supervision? How many times has the other girl been disciplined?"
"That's not the point. The point-"
"Is you left scalpels and other dangerous equipment unsecured and easily available to student in an unlocked and unsupervised classroom" the Colonel cutoff.
"Really, Officer-"
"I tell you what," the Colonel cutoff again. "I promise to overlook your extremely poor performance in this matter, if you agree to make a real effort to improve."
"But this girl-"
"I'll deal with this girl. You deal with fixing things so I don't have to call in the school board."
That was that. There was never any question of contradicting the Colonel, whether you were a murder suspect, the president of the rotary club, or me a young and upcoming monster. Mr. Watkins opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no actual words came out. The Colonel watched for a few moments before he turned to me. "Let's go," he said again.
The Colonel was silent all the way out to the car, and it was not comfortable silence. He didn't speak as we drove away from the school and got onto I-94 East instead of continuing down Jefferson Street to Windmill Street where our house was located. As soon as he took the exit for I-696 South I knew we were going to the Detroit Arsenal, the Army base where my dad was working.
We drove onto the base with ease because the guard knew the Colonel. After a few left and right turns we made it to the Army's Criminal Investigations building. This is where the Colonel was working during our two-year stay in Michigan.
The Colonel parked his car and at last he spoke. "Come on," he said. "Inside." I just looked at him, but he was already climbing out of the car, so I got out too, and followed him inside. We walked through the detention center cells before taking the stairs to the fourth floor. Once we walked out of the stairwell we walked down the hall and turned into the last doorway on our right side. When we stepped through the doorway we entered a small waiting room. There was a brown leather couch on our left side up against the wall with a small table at both ends of the couch. Each table had a light and two different magazines on them. In front of the couch was a small coffee table with more magazines and a small bowl filled with M&M's. Right in front of us facing the wall on the other side of the room was another couch and on the right side of that couch was another small table with, surprise, more magazines. On the right side of the room there were four large single person chairs. Finally on the wall across from us was a TV that was playing CNN news and to the right of the TV was another door.
The Colonel walked further into the room and I just followed him. "Sit," he said as he pointed to the couch that was up against the left wall. I did as I was told as the Colonel walked over to the door, and lightly knocked on it.
"It's open," a voice said from the other side. As soon as the Colonel was allowed in the office he walked in. He closed the door behind him leaving me in this waiting room for about twenty minutes.
Once the Colonel was done talking to whomever on the other side of the door, the door opened again and the Colonel and another man emerge from the other room. The man next to the Colonel is about a good half-foot taller with short brown hair and glasses. "Ah, Miss Robbins." The man said as he walked towards me with an extended hand. "I'm Major James Dixon. I'm the lead psychiatrist here at the base, your father has told me some stuff about you. He's worried about you and thinks I can help, why don't you step in my office so we can talk a little more."
I go from looking at Major Dixon to looking at the Colonel. He just nods his head at me before I follow Major Dixon into his office. That was the first of many meeting with Major Dixon. The Colonel thought that if I talked out my feeling the Dark Passenger would get board and leave me for another host, but he stuck with me, and all four years of my forced consoling.
Major Dixon went with the scare tactic. He showed the cell that I would live in for the rest of my life if I went down the path I did. He should me pictures and video of inmates who received lethal injection. He should me pictures of kids my age that killed people and thought they could get away with it. He told me what happened to them, some were murdered while in jail, some people killed themselves and some people lived long enough to receive their punishment of lethal injection.
At first I hated every minute of every day when I had to go to consoling, but after awhile I actually liked going, because Major Dixon was teaching the Dark Passenger and I so many lessons. He made me realize how important it was to not get careless, to make sure that I paid attention to my surroundings, and he along with my brother, Nick and the Colonel showed me how to not get caught.
If Major Dixon could see me now he would say that his consoling failed, but in my eyes I believed it worked because after our two-year three times a week consoling sessions, my youthful rebellion days were over…
I manage to find a parking spot close the employee entrance. I park the car and turn off the engine before I get out a sigh and turn to face Callie. "Look Callie-"
"No, Sofia's going to consoling. I don't care what you say." Callie cuts off with a stern voice.
"What makes you think consoling is going to work?" I somewhat yell back.
Callie's face is half stunned and half pissed when she hears me raise my voice. She shifts her body weight so she is looking at me fully. She doesn't say anything as the car becomes uncomfortably silent.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to yell at you, but coming from someone who walked the same path as Sofia AND went to four years of consoling…" I trail off.
"When did you start going to consoling?" Callie asks.
"When I was fourteen. I had hour in a half sessions three times a week for four years."
"Sofia's not fourteen. She's seven; her world is black and white, right and wrong. There is no grey area, and she isn't questioning anybodies authority yet. So taking her now instead of later, might help." Callie says. "She's going, no ifs, ands or buts. She'll be at Dr. Fowler's office tomorrow at 4:30 with or without you." Callie doesn't let me speak as she gets out of the Tahoe and enters the hospital.
I let out another sigh as I get out of the Tahoe as well. I don't know why I bothered to challenge Callie. When she says something is final, it's final. She will not budge. I just follow Callie upstairs to the attendings lounge, and we both get changed into our scrubs quietly. Once we are changed we mutter our goodbyes and see you later before Callie goes up one floor, while I go up two more floors.
For the first time in what seems like forever I actually have a slow a day. Alex, Morgan and I have built a pretty strong pediatrics empire here at Seattle Grace Mercy West, and thanks to Addison and Jo they have built a pretty strong neonatal empire here at the hospital as well, making Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital the number 1 hospital for pediatric care on the west coast, and we are ranked number two nationally. John Hopkins has us beat, but just narrowly. If one of Jo's friends, Heather Brooks, passes her board exam next mouth she will be a board certified pediatric neurosurgeon, which might give Seattle Grace Mercy West its first win in this war against John Hopkins about who has the better pediatric program.
Being ranked number 1 on the west coast and number 2 nationally means Alex, Morgan, Addison, Jo and I are pretty busy with cases from all over the country. So I was pretty happy and shocked when I saw that the only thing I have scheduled for today was a neuroblastoma with my intern for the week, Glenn Delcourt. Our surgery is first thing in the morning meaning after our surgery and after my lunch with Nick, I can send more time looking into Amelia Shepherd. I will find out her significance to me by the end of the day.
Usually a neuroblastoma takes about two hours from start to finish, but my intern Glenn has never done one and this is a teaching hospital so I let Glenn do the surgery while I just stand by him and talk him through it.
All together our surgery takes about four in a half hours because Glenn was too scared to do anything and once I was able to talk him into performing the surgery he started asking question after question after question. After our successful surgery I make Glenn talk the parents while I stand in the background making sure he says all the right things. Just like the surgery the talk goes well, and when I look up at the clock I notice that it is time for me leave to go meet Nick for lunch.
Before I go downstairs to change I give Glenn about 5 charts to write in, which should keep him busy for the rest of the afternoon. I decide not to take a shower and just get changed into my street clothes. Yesterday evening Nick texted me the address of a small new deli that opened up here in Seattle two mouths ago that I've been dying to try out. The deli is called The Pita Pit and it is just a ten-minute walk away from the hospital.
The snow is still falling, a little bit harder than it was this morning, and it is piling up rather quickly. If it keeps snowing like this I feel like I'm going to a phone from Brightwater saying that the afternoon session is cancelled. It takes me just a little over ten-minutes to get to The Pita Pit, all of Seattle's best drivers come out when it's snowing, and we all know I love my violence. I can't help but smile and slow down a little bit when I see and hear the other drivers on the street yelling and swearing at each other.
When I finally make it to The Pita Pit I see Nick standing outside in a black pea coat with black matching gloves and a black hat over his ears. Now me on the other hand, I'm wearing a black pea coat as well but I have hot pink mittens and a hot pink hat.
Some people would call us crazy because I chose to walk in this cold weather, and Nick is standing outside of the restaurant waiting for me instead of waiting inside. But the two of us are military brats. We've lived, played and walked through worst weather then this.
We make eye contact with each other before we give each other a slight head nod.
"Nicolas."
"Arizona."
Nick opens the door for me and we both walk into The Pita Pit. We walk up to the counter and take a minute before we both place our order. Nick gets two orders of the Dagwood, while I get two orders of the Philly Steak. The sandwiches are kind of on the small side, and Nick has the same big appetite as me.
We walk to the other end of the counter on the right side were we tell them what toppings we want on them while they make the sandwich. After we get out sandwiches, chips and drinks, Nick and I pick a small unoccupied corner to sit and eat while we talk about SEAL Team 7 and this 'Dr. Berkel'.
"Dr. Berkel's real name is Dr. Joseph Nguyen." Nick says after his second bite from his first sandwich. I don't saying anything as I take another bite from my first sandwich, and just allow Nick to talk before I start asking questions.
"Like most of the guys that become Navy Seals, Dr. Nguyen started out as an idealist. Unlike you, Dr. Nguyen didn't discover that something was wrong with him until he was in medical school. He could do things to people and not feel any empathy at all." Nick pauses to take another bite from his sandwich before taking a sip of is Dr. Pepper. "Dr. Berkel loved his country, and when he found out that his country had a dark side. He joined the military so he could be apart of that dark side. I guess you could say he didn't want his talent to go to waste, and so he became a Navy Seal just like Tim and others in SEAL team 7. And when SEAL team 7 was placed in Africa to do behind the scenes work during the Somali civil war…his talent blossomed. Tim and the others would being him people and-" Nick paused to look for the perfect phrase. "Let's just say that The Road Truck Killer and Dr. Berkel have the same MO."
"But this Dr. Berkel, Dr. Nguyen guy is dead?" I question as I open up my second sandwich.
"Yep," Nick says as he does the same thing. "He was the last living member of the Nguyen family. He had no younger sibling or children that would want to exact their revenge on SEAL team 7 and their immediate family members."
"You keep talking about revenge and the possible danger of SEAL team 7 and their immediate families. What did they do to make Dr. Berkel or his family mad?"
"SEAL team 7 had been working in Africa for about a year in a half, and towards the end of that year in a half the politics in the Pentagon changed. They wanted nothing to do with what SEAL team 7 had been doing while they were in Somalia. SEAL team 7 needed a way to get out of Somalia safely, and their one way political ticket back to the United States was Dr. Berkel." Nick says as he finishes the last of his sandwich.
"So they gave up their own guy to the enemy to be killed?" I asked. That doesn't seem very fair. I know I'm untroubled by a sense of morals, but I was taught to play by the rules.
Nick just shakes his head before giving me a small shrug. "The second Tim and I signed those papers for our ROTC scholarships was the second we sold our soles to the United States Government. They tell us where to go, what to do, and who to shoot, I'm the property of the United States Government. And so was Tim when he was still a live. The Pentagon needed SEAL team 7 in Afghanistan, and the only way they could get there was by giving up Dr. Berkel. Tim set him up and The Islamic Courts Union took him down." Nick pauses for a second. "The Islamic Courts Union turned him over to al-Qaeda who beheaded him live on Al Jazeera TV two weeks later."
"Are you sure?" I question, since The Road Truck Killer and Dr. Berkel have the same MO.
"Yeah," Nick says with a sigh. "I had to pull a lot a strings but I was able to get a copy of the video and I watched him die."
The two of us are quiet while I finish the last of my sandwich. "Since the last victim, I've been working on a theory but I'm only 20% positive that it's correct."
"Only 20%?" Nick questions with an eyebrow raise.
"Well I don't have the same resources as you, but if you can get me the names of the all the victims and their occupation. It might jump to 50%."
Nick just lightly nods his head. "That could be arranged," Nick says. "If I get you the list by the end of the day how long would it take you to figure out if your theory is correct or not?"
"With my work and home schedule, about a week."
Nick just nods his head again, "well lets hope that nothing happens between now and next week." Nick says as he gets up to throw away our trash.
"Let's hope," I whisper as I get up and put on my coat, hat and mittens.
Nick puts on his coat, hat and gloves before we both walk outside. We say our goodbyes before Nick turns to his left to walk down the street while I turn to my right to walk back to the hospital. It takes me a little over ten minutes to walk back to the hospital because once again driver's and their road rage gets my attention.
When I walk into the hospital I see Callie standing at the main nurses station with her head down writing something in a chart. Even though I know she is still a little mad at me about this morning, I can't stop the smile that always crosses my face when I see her.
I walk up to the Callie who still has her back towards me. When I reach her I place both of my hands on other either side of the nurses station trapping her. I place a small kiss on the top of her spine, or the cervical as Callie calls it. When I give her a kiss, I hear her start to smile before she leans back a little bit.
"You're going to get us in trouble." Callie whispers.
Owen's no sex in the on call room is still in effect and now he has even expanded it to no fraternizing and no flirting with other doctors while on the clock as well.
"Well if we do get in trouble I'm blaming you because you make me want to do bad things." I whisper back.
Both Callie and let out a small chuckle, while Callie closes her chart making no attempt to break free from her little trap. "One, Brightwater called and said that they are letting the kids go home early because of the snow. Two, Meredith was kind enough to pick up the kids and bring them here to the daycare center. And Three, Owen is looking for you."
"Dr. Robbins…" I hear Owen say before I can question Callie to way he is looking for me.
Callie and I quickly break a part from each other before looking straight ahead to our boss. Owen silently scolds me with his eyes before he speaks again. "Can you come with me please, there is a situation that requires your expertise."
I just give Owen a quick head nod before I glance over to Callie giving her a wink and a short hand wave goodbye. "A 16 year old boy by the name of Christopher Donovan has just emitted here from Seattle Presbyterian. His liver and kidneys stopped functioning properly two year ago and he had to be put on the transplant list. He was able to get new kidneys as well as a new liver, but now they have stopped functioning properly." Owen and I stop outside one of the exam rooms on the first floor not more than ten feet away from the ER. He hands me the chart before he starts to talk again, "Seattle Presbyterian doesn't have the resources or equipment that we do. Seattle Presbyterian would have to do an exploratory surgery, which his mother doesn't want. Dr. Canner has been his surgeon since day one so the two of you will be working together on this case." Owen says. "And Arizona, don't let me catch you and Callie flirting during work hours. You two are some of best the surgeons here and I would hate to have to write you up."
"Sorry about that, Dr. Hunt. It won't happen again." I say with a smile.
Owen just smiles back before he waves at Julia and then leaves. Right when Owen walks away is when Julia comes walking out of the exam room. "Hey Arizona," Julia says with a slight chirp. "Looks like we'll be working together."
"Looks like it," I say back. I feel myself pause a little when I hear my Dark Passenger let out a low growl. Out of all the years I've known Julia he has never had a problem with her, so why now all of a sudden?
"Did I ruin your day off?" Julia asks breaking me from thoughts.
"No, I was having lunch with a friend and I just haven't had the time to change. Owen brought me to you right when I walked back into the hospital." I say with a fake smile. I find myself on high alert since the Passenger doesn't like Julia Canner at the moment.
"Well why don't you take the chart and look over it while you change back into your scrubs, and I will take Chris upstairs to radiology. Owen said there was a pretty long line." Julia says.
"Okay," I whisper as I turn around to go upstairs to change back into my scrubs.
Usually I take the stairs, but since I have to play a little bit of catch up with a new case I take the elevator. That way I can read the chart without fear of running into anyone or anything.
By the time I make it the locker room I have read through the chart, and for the first time in over ten years The Dark Passenger doesn't like what he saw in the chart. The Passenger and I have been working together for well over twenty years and he knows not to interfere with my life when I'm at the hospital unless it's really important, or unless he's really antsy.
I know when he's antsy and really wants to kill someone, because he won't shut up about his need to sit in the driver's seat of my body. He's need starts out slow and quiet, and then grows from there. However, he has been quiet and happy for the past few days so I know he's not antsy, which means Julia is trying to pull a fast one over Owen and me.
After I change into my dark blue scrubs, I sit on the bench behind me that is right in front of my locker and I reread the Christopher's chart again. While I reread the chart The Passenger points out and hold to one word to help get this ball rolling…creatine.
Christopher has extreme liver and kidney damage. He plays football in the fall, wrestling in the winter and baseball in the spring. He's a very active for a 16 year old. He goes to the gym six times a week, and he's goal is to go from 200 pounds of muscle to 250 pounds of muscle by the end of the summer. Gaining 50 pounds of good weight is probably the hardest thing to do, and it looks like he is using creatine to help achieve these goals.
I flip over to the third page, which has his lab work results. His lab work shows high levels of creatine. Creatine should be used on adults 19 and older not on a 16 year old, and the intake should be only 2 grams daily. Christopher is showing about 60 grams of creatine in his body, which is way over the recommended limit.
Christopher's liver and kidney damage is the result of taking too much creatine. I didn't need MRI or exploratory surgery to figure out what was wrong with him. Julia is a smart doctor. I know she could have figured this out on her own, which means she was looking for an excuse to come here, but why?
I guess the only way to answer that question is to play along with her little game, and cut her off if Christopher's life is in danger. I go to the second floor to the radiology wing. When I get to the MRI room I see Chris already being scanned while Julia sits in other room in front the computer screen. Long line my ass.
I enter the room with Julia who is still looking at an image on the screen. I'm about to confront her, but when I see that Christopher has Rhabdomyoysis (the breakdown of skeletal muscle tissue) I decide to keep my mouth shut because maybe it was a good idea for Julia to bring Chris here after all.
"I didn't think it was this bad," Julia whispers as she leans back in her chair.
"Why did you let him continue to take creatine after he got his new organs?" I question as I set the chart down right next to Julia.
"I tried to warn him when his original organs started to fail, but he didn't listen me. He's a junior at Garfield High School, and he is taking football pretty seriously. UCLA, USC, Gonzaga and several other college football teams are considering him for a football scholarship. He's position is outside linebacker, and in college football the average size of a linebacker is about 6 feet tall and 270 pounds. He only weighs 200 pounds, they would crush him every Saturday on the field." Julia pauses to look over at me. "I set him up with a nutritionist and personal trainer to help him get bigger safely, but he didn't listen them or me."
"And know his ruined his chances at playing football anywhere." I say to Julia.
"Yeah," Julia says as she nods her head. "I'll talk to Mrs. Donovan, I figure the news won't hurt as much if it came from me since I've been with them since the beginning."
I just nod my head before Julia and I leave the room. I enter the room where Christopher is laying and tell the nurse to bring Christopher up to Peds and hand him over to nurse Lauren. I make sure to let him and Lauren know that his case is very important and he needs a room, because Christopher will be here for a while. The fact that he is about to go on the organ transplant list for a second time is not good for him. Since he abused his first set of organs he will placed on lower on the list because UNOS wants to give organs to people who take care of them, not be reckless with them like Christopher was.
After I tell the radiology nurse what to do I step out into the hallway and for some reason I find myself looking over towards my right side. To the right I see Mark and Julia standing facing each other talking. Maybe Julia was looking for an excuse to talk and see Mark.
"Congratulations on your marriage to Lexie, you two are prefect for each other. And I'm sorry to hear about Sloan and your grandson Joseph. Sloan had the same funny and raunchy personality like you and Joseph was a really nice sweet young man."
I don't get to hear the rest of the conversation because I get an incoming trauma page. I walk down to the ER to find Alex, Morgan, Callie and Shane waiting in the ambulance loading bay.
"What do we have?" I ask as walk up next to Alex while tying my trauma gown.
"A group of ten year olds were playing in the snow in front of someone's house when I a mini van slide on some ice and lost control. The mini van hit three of them and ran over one of them." Alex says right as we hear the sounds on four ambulances approach us.
The three ten year olds that were hit by the mini van have minor injuries, which Alex, Morgan and Shane take care of. However Lisa, the little girl that was actually ran over by the mini van has a lot more serve injuries that require both mine and Callie's attention. She has a lot of internal injuries, as well as, back and spinal cord injuries.
Because of the large amount of internal injuries Lisa has, Callie and I rush her straight to the OR. Her surgery went prefect expect for one small hiccup where Lisa crashed on our table, but we were able to bring her back. After that problem was solved everything else went smoothly.
Callie and I are in the middle of scrubbing out when Callie looks over towards me. "Can I talk to you in my office?"
For a moment I just turn off the water and look at her, "yeah," I say with a head nod, "is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I just want to talk you in private." Callie says as she walks past me and out of the scrubbing room.
I grab a towel and quickly dry my hands before I exit the room and follow Callie upstairs to the orthopedics floor.
The two of us walk upstairs and down the orthopedics hallway to Callie's office. By this time Callie and I walking side by side. When we make to Callie's office we see Owen leaning against the wall looking down at his feet. We don't say anything to him and we quietly continue to walk to Callie's office.
We are about five feet away from her door when Owen looks up from his feet and over to right side to see us walking down the hall towards him. When he sees us he stands up straight and turns his body towards us with confusion all over his face. He glances at Callie's door before looking at us as we close the gap between the three of us.
"Where have you two been for the past hour?" Owen questions as he points at both of us.
"We had surgery together," Callie, answers "we've been in OR 2 for the past four hours. Why?"
"Then who have I been listening to in your office?" Owen questions as he points back towards Callie's door.
Both Callie and I look at each other for a quick second before walk closer to her door. The three of us are standing right outside of Callie's door when we start the sounds of someone moaning and groaning.
"I really don't want walk in on a co worker having sex in my office." Callie says as she reaches into her pocket to get her keys out.
"Well they've been in there for an hour so they have to be close to being done, right?" I question.
"This is unacceptable," Owen says as he grabs the keys from Callie's hand. "Whoever is in there is disrespectful and rude. And they're about to get fired." Owen says as he opens the door and walks into Callie's office.
Callie's office has the same layout as me expect for the placement of her couch. My couch is on the right side of my door while her couch is on the left side of the door.
After Owen walks into the office first, while Callie enters second with me right behind Callie. When we opened Callie's door the moaning didn't stop and there was no 'oh shit' with people running around grabbing their clothes. When we opened the door, the moaning no only continued it got louder.
"Oh my God," Owen says as his right hand rises up to cover his mouth, while the color slowly drains from his face.
Callie just lets out a loud gasps before she turns around to bury her face in my chest while she grabs onto the back of my lab coat for a tight hug. My hands wrap around Callie, and while Callie cries into my chest, I see what has Callie and Owen speechless.
It's the hacked up body of Amelia Shepherd, but with a twist. Amelia Shepherd is still alive. Both of Amelia's legs and arms have been cut off and are nowhere to be seen here in Callie's office. Her ears, lips, nose, tongue and eyelids have also been removed and are missing from Callie's office as well. Amelia continues to moan as her eyes move around her head like marbles.
"I'm ahhh-" Owen stutters, "I'm going to call the police."
I just give Owen a head nod, while I maneuver Callie out of her office. I have my back against the wall on the left side of Callie's office door, while Callie continues to cry against my chest. Owen is standing in front of us talking to the police while pacing back and forth.
I let out a sigh as I lean my head back against wall, while I continue to rub Callie's back trying to calm her down. However I stop all my movements when a thought hits me like a freight train.
Sloan had the same funny and raunchy personality like you and Joseph was a really nice sweet young man…
That timeline doesn't add up. Julia was never around when Sloan walked in to Mark's life, and the only thing we knew about Mark's grandson, was that he was a boy. We didn't even get a chance to know his name before Sloan disappeared with her son.
The only logical conclusion behind Julia and Sloan meeting is Julia had to have gone out of her way to met her. But why would you go through all that trouble to meet the daughter of your ex boyfriend? In my world you go through that kind of trouble when you want to kill someone.
Is Julia The Road Truck Killer? Is Amelia Shepherd linked to Mark Sloan in someway I don't know about? And if Julia Canner really is The Road Truck Killer why did she leave Amelia Shepherd alive, and why did she leave her body in Callie's office and not Mark's?