No Lost Causes

[sassymajesty]

that quarantine mood

[hufflepuff-headcanons]

honestly the harry potter fandom is so wild like we’ve all collectively refused to accept cursed child as canon but some college kids tell us hufflepuffs are particularly good finders and we don’t even question it

[blaukrautsuppe]

I didn’t truly get the whole “death of the author” paradigm until I watched the harry potter fandom collectively divorce JKR

[princesconsuela]

[hurricanefrankie]

Me at work.

[lyannas]

[tidustargaryen]

And she died in chains…. fuck this shit

[likexporcelain]

And Tyrion was freed and restored yet again to a place of privilege… puke

[while-you-are-making-other-plans]

“It seems that when you want to make a woman into a hero, you hurt her first. When you want to make a man into a hero, you hurt… also a woman first.”

— Leigh Alexander absolutely hits it out of the park (via bedabug)

[queenhelenblackthorn]

This is why we need women, poc, and queer writers in the writers room for every single show and movie. And I’m not talking about having them come in for like two episodes or for one scene. They need to be there consistently to tell good, accurate stories and prevent this type of buffoonery

[iriswestsallen]

straight white men write game of thrones and it absolutely shows. 

[hurricanefrankie]

Had to get this out of my system 😂 

[italyhappiness]

I always remembered Nancy being the bitchy sister, but besides a few snarky comments here and there she did have Amelia’s back with the mom thing “I’d never spring mom on you,”. Yes she invited her sisters (I wish that Liz had been there too I feel like she also could have had Amelia’s back as well) but it definitely seemed like it was Kathleen that was out for blood and determined to make Amelia uncomfortable. And that’s when I decided to go back and watch the episode where Nancy visited Derek— and I have to say that she was only there because Kathleen told her to go and get information on the “slutty intern” she kept saying Kathleen wants to know this and Kathleen wants to know that. I mean yes she was curious about the answers as well, but she clearly stated that Kathleen was asking all of the questions. And yeah she was bitchy to Meredith, but if you think about it— she was friends with Addison. She knew her for years and then since she said Derek didn’t call much she got all of her information about Meredith from Addison, of course she wouldn’t like Meredith right off the bat.

It also seemed to me like Amelia wanted to have some sort of relationship with Nancy, because she did text her after her surgery to see if they could meet up— but I’m so glad that she got the time with her mother instead.

I wish that they had done something like this episode before Derek had died though. It would have been great to see all of the Shepherd family all together once. We only ever saw Derek interact with one member of his family at a time. I think it would have been fun to see the sisters tag team him, or see his stand up for Amelia against them. I hope that they do bring back Liz— maybe she could show up in Seattle to see Amelia.

[hurricanefrankie]

Next week’s episode

So Amelia’s gonna pretend Link is her husband and get away with it because Nancy and Kathleen have never met Owen before (I doubt they would’ve bothered to greet any of the Seattle lot during Derek’s funeral).

I’m then pretty sure mama Shepherd is then gonna turn up at the dinner (just as dessert is being served) and call Amelia out on her lies.

The hand holding the glass on the far right is Kathleen sitting next to Nancy so the person holding the glass on the left has gotta be Carolyn. She’s met Owen before, when she visited Seattle to meet Meredith, she and Owen spoke a bit about serving in the military and not being able to sleep, she knows who he is, she called him “Major Hunt”.

I understand Amelia lying to save face and not have them say “I told you so” about her shotgun marriage to Owen but it’s all just gonna backfire.

All in all I’m very excited for the next episode

[hurricanefrankie]

I was right!

[hurricanefrankie]

Next week’s episode

So Amelia’s gonna pretend Link is her husband and get away with it because Nancy and Kathleen have never met Owen before (I doubt they would’ve bothered to greet any of the Seattle lot during Derek’s funeral).

I’m then pretty sure mama Shepherd is then gonna turn up at the dinner (just as dessert is being served) and call Amelia out on her lies.

The hand holding the glass on the far right is Kathleen sitting next to Nancy so the person holding the glass on the left has gotta be Carolyn. She’s met Owen before, when she visited Seattle to meet Meredith, she and Owen spoke a bit about serving in the military and not being able to sleep, she knows who he is, she called him “Major Hunt”.

I understand Amelia lying to save face and not have them say “I told you so” about her shotgun marriage to Owen but it’s all just gonna backfire.

All in all I’m very excited for the next episode

[hurricanefrankie]

The wedding was in June, there was a post on someone’s Instagram... I hope your right!

Which wedding? I know Alex and Jo’s was June 9th but I don’t know the exact date of Owen and Amelia’s 🤷🏼‍♀️ I just go by how old Harriet is, seeing as she was born on their wedding day

[hurricanefrankie]

Teddy’s pregnancy

This is my desperate attempt to figure out Grey’s Anatomy screwed up timeline so I can try and prove that Teddy can’t be pregnant with Owen’s baby.

I refuse to believe/accept that anyone besides Amelia is going to have Owen’s baby, and if they do go ahead with that storyline, I’ll be ok...

July 2017 (Personal Jesus 14x10) Meredith wins her first Harper Avery Award & Jo is named Chief Resident. Harriet Kepner-Avery is 1 year old as of this episode - so it’s only been a year since Amelia and Owen’s wedding.

Beautiful Dreamer 14x19 is set 3 months later (around October 2017 time), so in the space of three months... Owen has slept with Amelia (multiple times) and then flown to Germany to sleep with Teddy (he double dipped within 24 hours 😷). At the end of 14x19, Owen starts the fostering/adoption process, Sam Bello is deported/sent away and Ollie dies.

The next episode (Judgement Day 14x20) consists of everyone getting high, Ollie’s funeral and Owen receiving Leo (which he says happened very quickly). Let’s be generous and say the space between Ollie’s death and her funeral is 2 weeks.

Bad Reputation 14x21 is set a week later (that's how long Deluca has been sleeping on Meredith’s couch), by the end of the day/episode Betty has agreed to live with Owen and Amelia.

In 14x22 Betty starts going through withdrawal, symptoms begin 6 to 12 hours after their last dose, peaking within 1 to 3 days, she ran away from Amelia within this window (she literally climbed out of the window 😂). 

Cold as Ice 14x23 is set in May 2018... Betty comes back the day April has her accident in 14x23, supposedly 6 days sober. Arizona states that April and Matthew have been dating “for months”? 

All of Me 14x24 is set a month later, June 9th 2018 (the date is depicted on Jo and Alex’s wedding invitation) and Betty receives her 30 days sobriety chip.

July 2017

3 months later (October 2017)

2 weeks (November 2017)

1 week later (November 2017)

2 days + 6 days (December 2017?)

1 month later (January 2018)

And yet they jump straight to May 2018... 

So by my messed up calculations, Teddy is either about to give birth or Owen isn’t the father... or (sadly the most likely option) Grey’s Anatomy is playing by its own screwed up timeline.

I like to believe that Teddy is pregnant with someone else’s kid, maybe he doesn’t want to be a father so she’s gone back to Seattle to be with Owen knowing how much he wants a family... but she needs to back off cause he already has one with Amelia 😉 a girl can dream.

[hurricanefrankie]

Amelia’s call list...

Rebecca Froy (the Dr. who hung up on her) - call ended 2:36pm

Webber - “Good morning, give me a call...” 1:45pm

Bailey - “Sure thing, let me know if it works...” 1:14pm

Alex - “You are awesome!” 12:45pm

Meredith - “No problem, I’ll update you with...” 12:14pm

Josephine Alice (oddly it’s her first and middle name) - “Calling you back in a few hours...” 11:33am

Deluca - “Same to you! Wouldn’t mind if...” 11:12am

Group Office - call ended. 8:30am (this call lasted 42 minutes... wonder what it was about and who ‘group office is’)

The original footage I watched of this episode was grainy and for a second I thought one of these calls could belong to someone from the L.A gang, sadly not. Still, I think it’s cute Richard and Amelia message each other, and I love her and Alex’s friendship: “You are awesome!” 

[hurricanefrankie]

The King in the North

Daenerys waited with baited breath, as the iron doors swung open to reveal one of her Dothraki warriors leading their small group of guests and her advisers inside. She watches with a keen interest as Tyrion ushers the two strange men forward.

 Neither looked very kingly, both slightly disheveled in appearance and dressed in black and faded brown. The older one had a scruffy beard with a receding hairline and a weathered yet kind face. Whilst the younger man had dark curly hair that he’d tried to tame by pulling back into a knot and his face was tragically beautiful, with scars sliced into his otherwise flawless pale skin.

 Daenerys does her best to remain stoic and unaffected by their arrival, trying to train her lilac eyes on the older man rather than his much younger, handsome companion.

 Tyrion bows when he reaches his queen, a triumphant smile on his face, pleased to finally have two such powerful entities in one room without any bloodshed between them.

 Missandei walks with the self-proclaimed king in the north and his comrade until they reach the bottom of the steps beneath Dany and her throne. She then tentatively ascends them to take her place at the side of the room.

 “Your grace,” Tryion turns to signal to their two guests, “allow me to introduce you to my dear old friend, King in the north, Jon Snow.”

 To her amazement, Tyrion pats the younger man on the arm rather than his much older comrade. Dany’s cold expression falters momentarily at her mistake before quickly recovering.

 “And this is his Hand, Ser Davos Seaworth.”

 In the corner of Jon’s eye, he sees Ser Davos’ chest puff out slightly at being introduced so formally.

 “It’s an honor to meet you, your grace,” Ser Davos nods politely, his northern accent strong and gruff yet oddly charming and sincere. Dany noted he had the same gentle and honorable air about him as the former lord commander of her Queen’s guard, Ser Barristan Selmy.

 Missandei addresses Jon Snow and Ser Davos. “Nobel lords, you are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, the Unburnt, Queen of Dragon’s Bay, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons.”

 While her handmaiden introduces her, Daenerys can’t help but survey the much younger than anticipated, King of the North, Jon Snow. He couldn’t be much older than she and from what Tyrion and Melisandra had told her, he had achieved just as much within a short space of time as her.

 The natural light streaming in through the cracks in the stone reflects off his breastplate armor, revealing the two stark wolf sigils marked on the front.

“Thank you for the invitation, your grace.” He tautly nods his head; he too had a strong accent, yet his wasn’t as gruff as Ser Davos and much easier to understand. His dark grey, almost black eyes lock with her piercing violet ones, they stare down the other, neither prepared to look away first until Tyrion purposefully coughs to break the mounting tension between the two monarchs.

 “Thank you for traveling so far, my lord.” Dany says, deliberately putting emphasis on his lesser title to make sure he knew his place. “I hope the seas weren’t too rough.”

 “The winds were kind, Your Grace.” Jon coolly retorts.

 There’s a long, drawn out silence, so thick with tension, even Ser Barristan would have had a tough time slicing through it with his blade. “So I assume, my lord, you’re here to bend the knee.”

 Jon shakes his head. “I am not.” He had heard stories about Daenerys Targaryen, that she was beautiful and stunning but the stories did not do the woman who sat before him justice.

 She sighs, hardly surprised by his decision. “Well, that is unfortunate. You’ve traveled all this way to break faith with House Targaryen?”

 He scoffs, “Break faith? Your father burned my grandfather alive. He burned my uncle alive. He would have burned the Seven Kingdoms-”

 “My father was an evil man.” Her honesty takes both Jon and Davos by surprise. “On behalf of House Targaryen, I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family. And I ask you not to judge a daughter for the sins of her father.”

 Jon hangs his head momentarily, the words he spoke to Sansa back at Winterfell replaying in his mind. I will not punish a son for his father’s sins.

 “I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow. Honor the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North.” It was a compromise she and Tyrion had agreed on, it meant Jon remained in charge of the north but was stripped of his royal title meaning he was no threat to Dany and her claim.

 He contemplates her proposal for a few minutes. He looks to Davos, whom merely shrugs, as if to say, it’s your choice. “You’re right.” If he agreed, he’d gain the support of her and her army for the war to come, but he’d also lose the support of the north. He may not wish to punish the son or daughter for the sins of their father, but the noble lords loyal to house Stark had made their opinions on the matter very clear and none of them could forgive the Targareyn’s for what they did to Rickard and Brandon Stark.

 He stares back up at the striking queen, her beauty was unmatched by any person he’d ever seen before, to the point where it was almost hard to avert his gaze. “You’re not guilty of your father’s crimes. And I’m not beholden to my ancestor’s vows.” Though he may appear calm and collected on the outside, on the inside his heart beating twice its normal rate and his palms sweating. She was their last resort, without her dragonglass, they were doomed.

 Daenerys has to purse her lips tightly together to stop them from curling up into an impressed smirk, she admired his boldness and that he wasn’t afraid to stand up for what he believed in. “If you never planned on bending the knee, what exactly was the point in your visit?”

 “My grace,” Davos steps forwards, his head bowed out of respect for a little longer than necessary, “pardon me for speaking out of turn,” he slowly stands up straight. “I understand your wish to retake the iron throne, but I’m afraid all the battles you’ll face to oppose the current queen will all be for nothing if what’s north of the wall breaches its defenses and comes south.”

 “What’s north of the wall? Wildlings?” Tyrion frowns; remembering the cryptic explanation the red priestess had given which basically meant that Jon would explain.

 The younger man shook his head causing a few loose strands of unruly curly hair to spring free from his tie. “The free folk, or what’s left of them are now south of the wall. I brokered a peace treaty with them when they saw the real enemy at Hardhome.”

 Dany scowls, she knew very little about the citizens who once lived north of the wall excluding the small pieces of information Tyrion had told her, he begrudgingly knew very little himself. “The real enemy?”

 “The white walkers.” He coldly responds.

 “Weren’t the white walkers merely a ploy used by mothers to scare their children into behaving?”

 “Believe me, my lord, the Night King and his army are very real.”

 “The Night King?” Daenerys sniggers, “The north does like to bestow inappropriate titles to just about anybody, doesn’t it?” she kinks her eyebrow, daring him to challenge her. “What makes these white walkers so…” she pauses, trying to find the right word, “terrifying that the King in the North seeks my help?”

 Jon does his best to hold his tongue and not berate the privileged and naïve queen who sat before him. “The army is made up of the undead, my grace. They intend to march south, destroying anyone and everything that crosses their path. They will not stop until the whole of the seven kingdoms is left in ashes. It won’t matter who sits on the iron throne when dead men come hunting for us in the night.”

 Dany wanted to laugh in response to his insane ramblings but the look in his eye, one of horror and experience, refrained her from doing so. Though she didn’t believe what he was saying, she did trust that he believed it himself. “And why should I believe you?”

 “Why would I lie?” Jon snaps back, allowing his slowly growing resentment and anger towards her get the better of him.

 “My Queen,” Tyrion interjects, defusing the situation, “I know Jon Snow and I honestly think he is telling the truth. I do not think we should dismiss his claim because we do not know any better.”

 She grits her teeth, being undermined in front of her council members was bad enough but to be so blatantly challenged in front of someone who could challenge her claim to the iron throne made her blood boil.

 If what Jon Snow and Ser Davos said was true and there was an army of the undead marching south, if she didn’t help try and stop them, she would have no kingdom left to rule over.

 “What would you suppose we do?” Dany asks, her grip on her throne tightening in frustration.

 “Westeros is divided and a divided realm won’t survive long against the Night King.” Ser Davos answers instead of a glowering Jon. “If we band together, we may have a shot at defeating them. Every northern house sworn to the Stark family is readying for war, the men, the women and the children.”

 Dany’s eyes widen at the prospect of children being subjected to such traumatic sights that occur during wars and their many battles.

 “There are very few things that can kill a white walker,” Davos continues, “Valyrian steel, fire and… dragonglass.”

 Dany eyes Tyrion, half-expecting him to jump in and make a witty comment but he remains quiet, his brow furrowed indicating he was in deep thought. “So, not only do you want my armies, you also want my dragons and my dragonglass?” Since arriving at Dragonstone, she had made sure to find out as much about her ancestry home from the maesters’ and the books she requested, as she could. She knew Dragonstone was built upon a mountain of dragonglass.

 Ser Davos opens his mouth to spew what she could only assume to be some elaborate apology and admission but before he has a chance, Jon speaks first.

 “Yes.” He answers bluntly, his expression mirroring her equally stony one.

 “And what will I receive in return for helping you?” she stares down at Jon, their eyes boring into one and others.

 “My support in your quest for the Iron Throne, once the long night is over and the white walkers are defeated.” He didn’t sound too thrilled about giving her his backing.

 “And how will it look if I allow the King in the North to refuse my command for him to bend the knee? Every lord and lady in Westeros will try and do the same.”

 Jon scowls, the scar above his eye darkening somewhat, “I made a promise to my men.”

 “Your grace,” Ser Davos pipes up again, “Jon has given his life for the North, he took a dagger to the heart for his people-”

 “The north crowned me their king.” Jon quickly cuts across his companion; he was not in the mood to relive the night he died.

 Dany glances over at Tyrion who looked equally confused by the older man’s comments.

 “I never wanted it. I never asked for it.” Jon shakes his head, “But I accepted it because the north is my home. It’s a part of me and I will never stop fighting for it. No matter the odds.”

 Daenerys slowly rises from her throne, surprising both men with her short yet commanding stature. “I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it. We fled before Robert’s assassins could find us.” She gradually begins to descend the steps, her sights set solely on the king in the north. “Robert was your father’s best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib.” She walks around him, surveying every aspect of the man Tyrion respected so highly, like a wolf circling its prey.

 She sighs, “Not that it matters now, of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me; I don’t remember all their names.” She muses as if she were discussing something as trivial as the weather. She moves back around to stand before him, her chin tilted up to face him, he was at least a whole head taller than her.

 “I have been sold like a broodmare. I’ve been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing, through all those years in exile?” she pauses for dramatic effect, “Faith. Not in any god, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn’t seen a dragon in centuries, until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn’t crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms. And I will.”

 Jon holds her intense gaze for a few moments more, her beauty and intelligence almost bewitching him.

 “The north is an integral part of the Seven Kingdoms, is it not?” she tilts her head slightly to one side, feigning innocence. “The north is loyal to house Stark, as are the Vale and the Riverlands. I have the combined forces the Reach and Dorne, and the iron fleet, legions of Unsullied, a Dothraki hoard and three dragons, and,” she glances over her shoulder to look at her Hand.

 “By the end of the week, we should have Casterly Rock.” Tyrion finishes for her, their conquests and future ones were all marked up on the map in the chamber with the painted table.

 “Cersei Lannister,” She practically spits the woman’s name, “will not care for your war in the north. She only cares for herself and the throne she illegitimately sits upon. If I don’t reclaim the crown, she’ll burn King’s Landing, and any other realm that defies her without a second thought.” Dany adds, imploring Jon Snow to understand.

 He clenches his jaw, “So you’d rather fight for the throne rather than the people?”

 “I’d like to do both.” She retorts back with an icy edge.

 “The game of thrones is bollocks!” he barks, regrettably making Missandei jump with fright, Daenareys on the other hand barely acknowledges his fit of rage, as though she had seen much worse, which she probably had. “We are all in grave danger, the army of the undead is coming and we’re not ready for them.”

 “Jon,” Tyrion slowly descends the steps to stand between the two rivaling monarchs, “if we turn our backs on the capital and head north to fight these… white walkers, Cersei will be ready. She’ll overthrow every last state and capital, and fight us from the south while we try to stronghold the north.”

 “If she knew the dangers that lay ahead, maybe she could be reasoned with?” Ser Davos suggests hopefully.

 “Cersei blew up the Great Sept with masses of Wildfire buried beneath the city,” Tyrion informs him, “killing everyone in it including her daughter-in-law and the heirs to High Garden, along with anyone within range. The mass slaughter also had a profound effect on her last remaining son, King Tommen.” At the thought of his nephew, Tyrion hangs his head. “The young King threw himself out of his bedroom window. Her children were the only thing that kept Cersei relatively human, and now they’re all dead, so is her humanity.”

 The room goes very quiet. Dany and Jon continue their stare down until the doors open once again, she reluctantly glances away to look and see who had entered.

 Lord Varys shuffles towards them, almost silently. He skirts around Ser Davos and Jon without so much as a look in their direction to privately address his queen. Daenareys steps back away from the King in the North to make sure he couldn’t overhear whatever Varys was about to tell her.

 The bald man leans down, his back to their guests and whispers the news about Euron’s fleet. “He ambushed the Greyjoys’, he killed Obara and Nymeria, and has taken Ellaria, her daughter Tyene and Yara Greyjoy prisoner. It’s rumored he is taking them as a gift for Cersei.”

 Dany gulps, her unaffected, stoic expression slowly fading away to be replaced with one of true morning, though her eyes flashed with rage.

 Varys backs away with a bow before walking soundlessly towards the chamber containing the map. Tyrion watches him leave, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 “I’m sorry, I must end this meeting now,” The silver haired queen clasps her trembling hands together, “you’ve had a long journey, as a show of good will, I offer you a room to stay for the night. Missandei will show you the way.” Her handmaiden quickly walks down the steps to stand by her queen.

 Jon stares at her skeptically, not sure if it were some form of trick or not. “Am I your prisoner?”

 “No.” She retorts briskly and then heads in the same direction as her master of whispers, Tyrion offers the two men an apologetic nod before following her, hot on her heels. “Not yet.” Dany calls out over her shoulder before disappearing through a door.

[hurricanefrankie]

You’re Not the Only One Suffering

Amelia is jolted awake by a sudden pain in her abdomen, the kind of pain that makes your toes curl and your fists clench in a hope to counteract the sensation. She rolls onto her side with a groan. The early morning sun dimly lit the room so she knew it was at least the morning. Suddenly overcome by a hot flash, she rips off her covers in an attempt to cool herself down. Her skin was on fire. She checks her forehead for a temperature but it’s too hard to tell whether or not she has one thanks to her hands being ice cold yet still clammy from sweat. 

The pain that woke her strikes again causing her stomach to churn uneasily. She tries to gulp down the nausea but her mouth is dry and any moisture she had left in her body has now been sweated out during the night.

She hears hurried footsteps thud against the floor upstairs, signalling someone else was awake. A door slamming shut abruptly overshadows the footsteps closely followed by the distant sound of retching. 

Oh no. Amelia scrambles off the couch, her stomach now violently churning. She runs in the direction of the downstairs bathroom, her hand placed firmly over her mouth as bile retreats back up her throat. She wrenches open the door and makes a beeline for the toilet. She reaches it just in time to watch the contents of her stomach spew from her mouth into the bowl. 

Tears stream down her cheeks as a result of the violent retching but she has no energy to wipe them away, at least not until she’s finished puking her guts up. She continues vomiting for the next few minutes until her body realises there’s nothing left to relinquish from her now empty stomach.

She drops down next to the toilet with a sigh of relief. Please let that be the last of it. She remains slumped on the bathroom floor tiles, her legs pulled up to her chest whilst her head hung limply between them, enjoying the sensation of the cool tiles against her still burning hot skin. 

Amelia doesn’t even realise she’s fallen asleep until she’s gently shaken awake by her four year old nephew Bailey. Her stormy blue eyes open to see his sky blue ones staring right back at her with curiosity.

“Why are you sleeping in here aunty Amy?” he asks with a furrowed brow. 

Meredith appears behind him with Ellis on her hip, “You ill too?” she queries, surveying her sister-in-law with pursed lips.

The neurosurgeon runs a hand through her matted hair, “I feel like…” she stops herself from swearing to spell it out instead. “C. R. A. P.”  

Meredith nods in understanding, “I’ve been up half the night with Zola while Maggie has been in my en suite and Alex has now too locked himself away in the main bathroom. I’m dropping these two off at day-care, I want them to remain healthy.” She ushers her son away from his aunt. “How’re you feeling?”

“A bit better.” Amelia shrugs and leans her head back against the wall.

“Good, I need you to go check on Zola, she was asleep but I don’t want her waking up alone.”

She wipes her hand over her sweaty face, “Ok, sure.” The mere thought of standing up and removing herself from such a close proximity to a toilet made her feel very anxious.

“I’ve also gotta call Catherine Avery and cancel my trip with Jackson, she’ll have to find someone else to go.” Meredith swiftly leaves, tugging a still very curious yet concerned Bailey with her; he hated seeing people hurt or unwell just like his older sister. His mother and aunts were all very positive both siblings would follow in their parents’ footsteps by becoming doctors. 

With a deep breath, Amelia pushes herself up as gently as she possibly can, her head spinning momentarily once she’s standing upright. Her legs feel like jelly. The front door shuts indicating Meredith and the kids were gone.

Ok. You can do this. She gives herself a mini pep talk as she slowly but surely makes her way out of the bathroom and up the stairs. She clings to the bannister with dear life as yet another wave of nausea hits her. She freezes mid step until it passes. Mind over matter.

When she finally arrives at Meredith’s room, she finds Zola curled up in the tightest ball possible, still fast asleep. Amelia crawls onto the bed to join her, mentally making a note of the plastic bowl on the side table in case she felt like she might vomit again. She lies down beside her niece, above the covers, she was still burning up and the prospect of tucking herself in made her feel claustrophobic and very uneasy.

The sound of the en suite toilet flushing alerts Amelia to the presence of Maggie in the adjoining room, she had almost forgot that Meredith has said both she and Alex were in the same predicament as her and Zola.

The bathroom door creaks open to reveal an incredibly pale Maggie. Her hair was pulled back and hidden beneath one of her headscarf’s and she was wearing a tank top with yoga pants. “What did I do to deserve this?” she grumbles, using the doorframe as a support to keep her upright.

“You’re not the only one suffering.” Amelia says, remaining perfectly still, scared that if she moved even an inch; she’d unsettle her stomach. “Did we eat something?” she grimaces at the thought of food.

“Mer thinks it’s just the flu. Half of Zola’s class has gone down with it.”

“So she’s to blame.” She retorts half jokingly as she glances at the girl to her left.

“I’m so tired. All I want to do is curl up in bed but every time I step foot outside of this room, I…” Maggie drifts off, her face turning green. She whips back around and crouches over the toilet bowl. 

Amelia tries to cover her ears to block them from hearing the inevitable vomiting but it’s no use. She closes her eyes and tries her best to think of anything but what was happening a few feet from where she lay.

‘You ok?’ His voice suddenly enters her mind. It’s full of concern and love as usual. Throughout the course of their relationship, he’s only ever seen her ill once.

“Go away!” She groans when she hears him knocking at the door. She doesn’t want him to see her like this. She’s sweaty and gross with chunks of vomit in her hair.

“Mia,” he only calls her that on rare occasions when he doesn’t know how to help and wants her to just tell him what to do. “Just let me in.” they both know the door is unlocked but he’s trying to respect her boundaries by waiting outside until she invites him in. 

“I’m disgusting.” She heaves up another load of last night’s dodgy Mexican food. “Please go away!” she splutters, spitting out any remnants from her mouth into the bowl.

She hears him sigh from the other side of the door. “Can I at least get you something? A glass of water? Some ginger ale?”

“Sorry you had to hear that.” Maggie’s voice interrupts her thoughts.

She sighs, disappointed to find herself stuck at Meredith’s house while she was ill rather than being at home with her husband who would gladly look after her, despite her objections. “Shut the door next time.” 

The mattress dips and Maggie cautiously lies down beside her. “I don’t wanna jinx anything but… I might be over the worst of it.” 

Amelia scoffs at her unwavering optimism. The world is on fire and she holds a marshmallow on a stick to the flames.

“Having the flu is the perfect excuse not to be in the O.R with Minnick as she allows some first year resident to butcher a patient’s heart valve.”

Speaking about food made her stomach churn but talking about surgery, where there was blood, guts and gore only made Amelia’s heart flutter. Nothing beat the rush of adrenaline a surgeon got when they cut into a person’s body, or in Amelia’s case, their head.

“When are you coming back for good?”

The neurosurgeon sighs as she delicately rests her hands on her abdomen. After getting a taste of being back in the O.R the other day, she had spent every minute since craving the rush. The only thing that topped doing surgery was being in Owen’s presence, it didn’t matter if they were fighting or even giving one and other the silent treatment, just being in the same room as him made her heart skip a beat.

“I…” she gulps, pleased to find her mouth was no longer dry. “I don’t know… maybe sooner rather than later.” She knew she couldn’t stay out of work forever, her patients and her department needed her. She was still getting updates from Stephanie regarding the other neuro attendings and none of them were living up to her high expectations.

“And what about Owen?” 

Amelia stares up at the cream colored ceiling. To her surprise, since being back at Meredith’s house, she hadn’t been interrogated as much as she expected. She thought she’d receive daily grilling’s from Meredith while Maggie asked incessant questions until they wore their sister down but none of that happened. Alex had been the only one to push her to talk because of what she had previously told him but only when they were alone, and when she told him to back off, he had done so without hesitation.

“I…” 

Maggie tilts her head slightly to face her, “It’s ok, I’m not pressuring you like the other day. Come back when you’re ready.”

What if I’m never ready? I’m not ready for the fight with Owen. I’m not ready to break his heart.

Zola shifts beside her, “Mommy,” she mumbles, still half asleep. 

“Mommy’s gone out for a little bit Zo Zo,” Amelia diverts her attention from Maggie to her niece, “she’ll be back soon.”

The seven-year-old uncoils herself from a tight ball and rolls over to face her aunt; she shuffles closer in need of physical contact. Amelia pulls her into her arms, dismissive of the idea that she might be vomited upon any minute now. She starts to rub circles on her niece’s back to sooth her just like her mom used to whenever she was sick.

“I told you to go away!” She whimpers into the toilet, trying to use it to shield her face from her husband’s view.

“I know but I don’t care.” Owen kneels down next to her. He rests his hand on her back and begins to draw a figure of eight while the other gathers up her mop of hair to keep it from her face as she continued to puke. “You’re my wife. In sickness and in health.” He reminds her affectionately.

“I don’t-want-you seeing-me like-this.” she groans between violent bouts of vomiting.

He sighs, “I’m a doctor plus I’ve been in multiple war zones, I’ve seen much worse, believe me.” 

“But you’re not sleeping with your patients after you’ve seen them crap their pants or watched them vomit on sacred ground.” By sacred ground, she meant their bed. She buries her reddening face further down into the toilet.

“Do you want me to vomit in front of you? Will that make you feel better?” he sniggers. “If it means that much to you, I will go eat the other half of that bad burrito and in three to six hours, you can watch me projectile vomit anywhere you want.”

“You’d really do that for me?” the porcelain bowl amplifies her muffled voice.

He sniggers. “If that’s what it takes to make you feel better, then of course I will.

Amelia slowly lifts her head to reveal a small smile tugging at her lips. “The honeymoon period is officially over.”

“I feel like I’m in hell.” Alex staggers into the room, his hand placed firmly on his gurgling stomach.

“Join the club.” Maggie says, gesturing for him to sit down. He does as he’s instructed and slumps down at the end of the bed with a groan. 

Zola suddenly jerks up from her prone position and before Amelia can grab the plastic bowl from the side table, Zola is puking onto both herself and her aunt, the latter’s lap receiving the brunt of it.

“Oh god,” Maggie scrambles off the bed but instead of helping the situation, she’s back crouching over the toilet being sick again.

Zola starts to cry out of both discomfort and embarrassment while her aunt tries her best to sooth her whilst keeping her own vomit down.

Pushing his own nausea aside, Alex gets up and moves round the bed to where Amelia and Zola were situated. “Strip off and jump in the shower.” He says before he picks up the shaking girl, his Peds instincts kicking in and carries her through to the bathroom opposite Meredith’s room.

Amelia grits her teeth but does as she’s told, doing her best to keep the puddle of vomit on her lap and stomach from trickling down into the mattress. She strips off her pyjamas so she’s standing in just her bra and panties before she removes the sheets from the bed.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie reappears with a guilt-ridden expression.

“It’s fine, go shove these in the washer. I need to shower.” She points to the balled up pile of sheets.

Maggie nods apologetically as Amelia brushes past her to jump into Meredith’s shower.

[hurricanefrankie]

Possible Pregnancy Timeline

Here’s my theory as to how far along Amelia could be in her (possible) pregnancy - the Grey’s timeline is pretty fucked up, but most of the latest episodes have been set within only a few days of each other so... 

26th Sep? – last period (around that time anyway)

13th Oct  - emotional revelation + conception?

29th Oct - pregnancy test = false negative? (nearly 5 weeks pregnant)

+ 2 weeks (she spent in the hospital) – (7 weeks pregnant)

+ 5 days (estimate) staying round Meredith’s (nearly 8 weeks pregnant)

+ 4 days (estimate) staying round Stephanie’s – (8 weeks pregnant)

+ A week (estimate), back to Meredith’s –  (9 weeks pregnant)

This is probably all completely wrong and knowing our luck Amelia’s not even pregnant.