I ride through a tunnel, it’s been dark the whole way
Amelia Shepherd!r & Addison Montgomery
A/n: hi guys first fic on the side side blog
Addison didn’t understand how they kept ending up here. It felt like the second one hurdle was passed, another one came up. A bigger, harder to tackle one.
You had been out of rehab for months now. You were clean. You were doing so good. She had seen it in you, she had watched the light return to your eyes, only to watch is vanish as quickly as it came. She asked more than she liked to admit if you were using again. You always said no. She’d forced you into drug tests a couple times already, and they were always negative. You were just… hollow. Clean, but still not all there. Not there at all.
She didn’t know why. You seemed to have everything in order. You were off drugs, you were doing well at work, you didn’t fight her when she encouraged you to get out of your apartment. No matter what she tried to do to help you, though, that look never left your face. The dark circles, the permanent frown, the shallow smile you gave her when she greeted you good morning at the practice every day. You were quiet. Eerily so. Always in your office, never initiating conversation. The lively, outgoing girl she knew seemed to have been lost a long time ago.
Addison wanted to find her again. She wanted so badly to have things back the way they were before. But she didn’t want to push. She was too terrified to push you further than she already had.
None of her calls had been returned. You’d been absent from work for almost a week now, and though Addison wanted to trust that you just needed time to yourself, the thought of you curled up dead in your apartment was too much for her.
“Amy?” The door creaked open, loud against the still silence of your apartment. There were signs of life, which let Addison relax her shoulders as she walked inside. Dishes in the sink, the TV playing some movie she didn’t recognize. She could hear the shower running. Good. You’re not dead, then.
She dropped her bags on the counter—groceries she had picked up on the way over. She figured that if you hadn’t been working, you definitely hadn’t been shopping.
As she was finishing putting things away and cleaning up a little, you stepped back out into the living room, hair damp and dressed in an old t shirt and sweatpants. You paused as you were leaning down to grab the remote, staring at her.
“Addison….”
“I’m sorry.” She set her palms on the counter. “I hadn’t heard from you. I was worried. I just… wanted to check on you.” You still didn’t look very happy with her. “I brought ice cream?”
“You need to go.” Your voice was hoarse, and as you stepped closer, she could see how tired you looked. “Now. Please.”
“Amy-“
“Addison, now.”
She furrowed her brow, standing up straighter. “Hey, you don’t get to make me the bad guy for worrying about you. I’m sorry, but i get to worry about you. I have every right.”
You grabbed her wrist, trying to drag her to the door. She stood her ground. “Amelia, talk to me. Please.”
You both ended up on the couch, silently watching the rest of the movie you had put on. You had refused to respond to any of her questions, so she had settled for this. This was fine. This was good. At least you weren’t alone.
Addison glanced over as you shifted on the couch, moving to tuck your legs under you. She saw the outline of something under your pants, something that looked eerily like medical wrapping.
“Did you get hurt?”
Your eyes shot to hers as she asked, searching her expression. “What?”
“Your leg. It’s bandaged. What happened?”
She had this knowing expression on her face. I know what you did, but I want you to tell me the truth.
You shrugged and looked back at the TV. Addison frowned. “Amelia-“
“I don’t want your help, Addison. I’m not on drugs, okay? Can’t that be enough for you?”
Without responding, she stood up and made a beeline to your bathroom. You could hear her begin to rummage through drawers and cupboards. You quickly got up to follow her. “What are you doing?”
Addison shook her head, opening and closing doors. “I can’t do this with you again, Amelia. I can’t-… j can’t just sit around and wait for you to kill yourself.”
It sounded like she was going to cry, but she wouldn’t look at you. When she didn’t find anything, she moved to your room. You followed.
“Addison, i’m not going to kill yourself.”
“How do you know?!” She turned to look at you, red in the face, teary eyed. “You don’t know that, Amelia. You always think you know better, but you don’t.”
She opened your too dresser drawer and pulled out a bag, holding it up. “Is this it?”
You just shook your head and left the room. “I don’t have to deal with this.”
After a couple minutes of uncomfortably sitting on the couch in silence, you called back to your room. “You better not throw that shit away, Addison! It’s… fucking expensive.” You were starting to cry now too. You didn’t know why. You weren’t even upset.
Addison walked into the living room after a little while. She set your bag on the floor, kneeling in front of you, peeling your sweats off despite your halfhearted protests. She cut off the hastily wrapped bandages around your thigh, finding the unsanitized, half still-bleeding wound underneath. Three short incisions in your skin.
She was silent as she cleaned and rewrapped it, much neater than you had done. She didn’t say anything as she put your bag up in the hall closet and sat beside you. Matching her quiet, you leaned into her, laying your head on her shoulder and staring blankly at the tv in front of you.
“Why don’t I stay here for a while?” She said softly, running her fingers through your hair. “Or you could come to mine-“
“Yours is good,” you almost whispered. “Yours is great.”
when we get crazy amelia screentime and ameloni content on the sabbat!cal anniversary weekend and then caterina’s bday…life will out the carrousel never stops turning
