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A/N: Thanks for all the votes and comments! You guys are the best! 

FYI For Private Practice fans, I never did get into that show - so while the setting of this fic is in LA I won't be including those characters. And while it is plausible that Addison be involved in this fic, I really just want to explore the relationship between Meredith and Amelia.

Enjoy!

Meredith sat on the bed with Bailey in her arms, staring at her phone. "Please come as soon as you can." The voice said in her head. The news about Amelia was almost too much. She just had nothing to give. Her stomach felt queasy, so she laid Bailey down before bolting to the bathroom to retch. She sat down beside the toilet and wiped her mouth. Her breath started to come in quick gasps and she closed her eyes. "Derek?" she called to no one, "What do I do? What do I do?"

If there's a crisis, she heard him say, you don't freeze, you move forward, you get the rest of us to move forward because you've seen worse. You've survived worse.

"Derek it's too much." Her hands were clammy, her face flushed. She couldn't do this. She couldn't face someone else in pain. She was a mess, now she had to tend to someone else's wounds?

Amy's my sister, she's family.

"But the kids..."

Amelia loves our kids.

Meredith got up, drank some water straight from the tap and splashed some on her face. She picked her phone up again and thumbed through the contacts. Addison, Carolyn... She brought her hand up to her forehead. "Derek..."

Why did he have to be in her head, saying things? Damn it.

No need to involve anyone else right now, she thought. I can just go and see if she's okay right? It's probably nothing. I can just go and see.

Derek would want that. He wouldn't want Amelia to be alone and it would take several hours for any family to get down there to help her. In her heart, she knew that was the right thing to do. She would survive, she had to.

She started getting ready.

xxx

It was the time of night Dr. Rorish liked to call the eye of the storm. A quiet period before another wave of patients were wheeled in. She used this time for a quick round of her patients so far. This was critical to patient care- because this was how she could determine if they made the right calls in the ER, or if there were mistakes or complications that needed to be managed. This was make or break. After discharging a patient with a fractured arm and mild concussion, she moved onto the next bed. Amelia Shepherd, the attempted suicide. "They haven't moved her to surgery?" she asked Malaya.

"Surgery got bumped."

"Go grab a bite to eat."

"No I'm okay."

Rorish pulled her stethoscope out and began her examination of the patient. Rorish checked heartrate, pulse, blood pressure. It was improving. Amelia's dressings had been changed, but her hands were cold, indicating poor circulation. "You can't blame yourself Malaya, he wanted to die."

"Do no harm, I made that oath when I became a doctor, and I let him..." Malaya stopped, speechless.

Rorish swung the stethoscope back around her neck. Of all the traumas that came into her ER it was suicide that bothered doctors the most. Harm to oneself. The hardest part was that she had been there not long ago. When the pain of surviving was too great- but she could never bring herself to it. It angered and saddened her. "Malaya. You have to move past this. I can't have a resident that second guesses. What happened tonight was hard. But now you know. And you'll do better."

She looked at the bandages again. "Get me a suture kit, saline, and some lidacane, I'll have to do this now."

Malaya nodded and left the room.

Dr. Rorish made her notes in Amelia's chart when she heard a sharp intake of breath. "Ms. Shepherd?" she walked closer to the bed, putting her stethoscope to her ears and checking Amelia's breath sounds.

"Mmm," Amelia's eyes fluttered and she licked her lips.

"I'm Dr. Rorish, you're at Angels Memorial Hospital."

"No... no," Amelia shook her head. "I don't want to be here," Her eyes finally opened and she glared at Rorish, "Get me out of here!" She struggled to sit up.

Rorish pushed her down. "You need to stay put, or I will restrain you. You're at risk for self harm and as your doctor, I can't release you just yet. Besides, you still need surgery on your wrists."

Amelia looked down at her bandaged wrists in shock. "What? It didn't work... I still can't..."

Malaya returned with the supplies. Rorish hung the chart on the end of the bed. "I'm going to fix your wrists, and then you'll be asessed on your mental health. I've called your sister in law, Meredith."

"Meredith? You called freakin' Meredith?" Amelia pushed herself up again.

"Malaya, Get me ten cc of Lorazepam" She pushed Amelia down again. "I'm going to give you a sedative," Malaya handed her a needle and Rorish reached for the IV bag.

"No, please no," Amelia protested. Rorish slid the needle into the IV line and pushed the plunger. Amelia's eyes closed and she passed out.

Rorish pulled the curtain around, "Okay Malaya, watch and learn as I do these sutures, I've got to get right to the vein, and I'm going to need some help." She gowned and gloved.

xxx

The flight from San Francisco to LA was too short and Meredith felt trapped in this city. Now she was here, and couldn't turn back. She parked the rental and entered Angels Memorial.

The hospital loomed in front of her. Even at four in the morning, the place seemed full and busy. It was a strange dream as she followed the signs and checked in at the desk. Deja vu, entering a hospital to find out whether someone she loved was alive or dead. She swallowed as she entered the impossibly busy and depressing waiting room. Bailey rested on her hip and Zola clutched Meredith's hand, carrying her doll with the other. Meredith shifted Bailey in her arms and approached the desk. "I'm here for Amelia Shepherd?"

The clerk barely looked at her as the keys clacked on the keyboard. "She's still in the ER, I'll page a nurse."

xxx

The latest crisis passed, and the flow of patients ebbed again. Rorish finished the remnants of the cold coffee in the staff lounge. She heard Jesse clear his throat. "What is it?" she asked. He beckoned with a tilt of his head and she reluctantly followed.

"The attempted suicide. Her family is here," Jesse said. He touched her arm. They made their way to the waiting room. "She's a doctor," He said quietly.

"I know." She remembered the voicemail. She stepped forward, "Dr. Grey?" Amongst the crowd of people a woman looked up from her seat, two children on her lap. And Rorish saw that look. Pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Her jaw jutted out a little. Her posture was tense and so very fragile. This was the look of grief and loss, of someone who had lost half of themselves and Rorish knew it all to well, it was the same look that she saw in the mirror everyday.

xxx

A/N: Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your votes and comments!

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