#dxctormodel

//i feel this re-watching the end of grey’s season 2 and season 5

//aaaaaaaah it’s great, thank you <33

Leave a “Drink Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character taking shots with yours.

Out of character: You should know straight up, I’m an angst whore, and there’s nothing I can or want to do about it anymore xD So I’m not even sure what genre this counts as…? Actually, I’m not sure what any of it is at all… But I hope you like it.

It took only one shot for years of sobriety to dissipate on Amelia’s. One shot. One slip. One tiny trip to lead to a massive downfall. And maybe if she had remembered that just because alcohol isn’t oxy, it doesn’t mean it isn’t a drug, the whole thing could’ve been avoided… But maybe she wasn’t as strong as she thought, or maybe it was one too many sleepless nights or meals skipped… Maybe it was the memories of her father, of Michelle, of Ryan, or of her baby drowning her; suffocating her until she could no longer breathe sober. Maybe it was the incessant denials that anything was wrong uttered just as much for herself as anyone else. And maybe right now, it didn’t really matter what it was, because here she sat on a lonesome stool in Joe’s, drowning her sorrows at the bottom of a bottle — again. Hurricane Amelia back for an encore.

Cerulean eyes barely looked up as she felt the rustling of someone new taking their place next to her, but in her periphery she spotted familiar blond curls. She knew without looking that it was Isobel Stevens. She didn’t bother to listen as a greeting was sent her way. Instead, she chugged the rest of her drink and motioned for a refill. It was only then that she turned, feeling enough of a buzz to allow conversation.

Amelia cleared her throat, spinning to lean her back against the bar, propping herself up on her elbows. “Hey, Stevens,” she sang, causing the other woman to return her gaze. Taking another sip from her glass, she shot a smile toward the fellow surgeon. Tired eyes locked, mirroring one another as she appraised the blond. “Are you…fun? I mean, if I ask you to drink with me, are you going to whine and complain all night or lecture me, or are you going to have a good time? Because I want to ask you, but I don’t want a downer or a babysitter or anything else that’s going to kill my buzz. If I did, I’d call my brother. Or Sheldon or somebody. Just…tell me you’re fun.”

Izzie narrowed her eyes a moment, as if trying to read the neurosurgeon’s intentions. Popping a nut from the nearby bowl between her lips, she nodded almost apprehensively and affirmed, “I’m fun.” Why would she protest, after all? She had no idea of her coworker’s past — the destruction she had wrought upon her own life. She simply knew it had been a very long day, and perhaps neither of them liked to be alone as much as they might pretend.

"Good." She waved over the bartender, ordering shots for both — preferring her own to be vodka, while Izzie chose tequila. Either way, she decided, it would get them to the same place. That was what mattered, wasn’t it? That she get drunk beyond comprehension just to push away the memories threatening to resurface. If she was lucky, perhaps the alcohol would make her forget that her previous drinking buddies were gone; washing away the fear that maybe it was her who was cursed. Hollow dark circles surrounded her eyes as she pulled back another.

Her vision began to blur and her skin seemed to tingle, feeling a strange combination of weightlessness and gravity all at once as she hopped to her feet, stumbling back. A mischievous grin crossed her lips. She was done drinking in silence. It was time for the fun to start. “Get up!” she ordered, waiting for the blond to follow instruction. “Up! Up! Up! Enough of this crap. We are young and we are hot and it’s a waste of life to spend it here in some dank bar when we could be out living!” We owe it to those who aren’t anymore. Her mind flashed to the greying skin of her best friend, covering face of a sleeping angel surrounded by pills. Shaking away the thoughts, Amelia grabbed for the hand of the surgeon, sly giggles emanating from her throat and transferring through her new companion. “Come with me.” 

She led them through the streets to a club she had seen once in passing, the bright lights and pounding bass setting her senses on fire. “Watch this,” she smirked, strutting past the lineup toward the bouncer and pulling him into a deep kiss. With her free hand, she motioned for Izzie to run inside, and she did the same once she pulled back.

Stumbling on her heels through the door, Amelia quickly located Izzie, shooting her a look of pride that she could still manage her old tricks after years out of practice. The blond shot a fist in the air and screamed her excitement, shooting another round of laughter from both. They flirted their way to more free drinks, though it took a little convincing for the resident to go along with the plan, and it wasn’t long before each was pulled out onto the dance floor by strangers who could have been George Clooney or Gilbert Gottfried for the amount of alcohol in their systems.

One might assume it was by Amelia’s suggestion that the pair eventually ended up dancing atop the bar, but neither could remember for sure by that point. They were there, and from the circles spinning in the room, neither was very graceful about their moves. A few of the more sober female patrons heckled them, but recalling the nasty cut she had needed to stitch on her own hand the last time, Amelia didn’t fall for it and luckily for both of them, Izzie was too far in her own world that she didn’t hear. Yet, it seemed that proved of little use, as she stepped on a napkin and quickly tumbled to the floor. This time, however, there was no bleeding to ruin her buzz, and she imagined the pain of her quickly-forming bruises wouldn’t hit her until the following morning. Either way, it pulled the fun away from her and she tugged on Izzie’s pants for attention, offering a hand to help her down.

"I left my car at Joe’s," Amelia slurred.

The blond stared at her in silence as they stumbled down the road, a grin slowly spreading and pinking her cheeks. She hooked their arms together and exclaimed, “I have an idea! Come stay at Mer’s with me! It’s not that far away.”

"Stay with my brother’s mistress and her friends?" Amelia smirked, shrugging in agreement. She had found a calm and even under the influence, she worried that finding herself without company might cause it to diffuse. Besides that, she had actually quite enjoyed the company of the resident. "As long as Derek isn’t there, I guess. I couldn’t deal with with his crap right now. Not to mention I have no desire to walk in on him and Meredith doing the nasty. I did that once and his pasty white ass is burned into my brain.”

Izzie crinkled her nose in disgust. “Ew. Seriously? I walked in on my parents once a long time ago, but I’m pretty sure I’ve blocked most of it out—thankfully.”

Amelia made a face, but didn’t bother to comment.

"Anyway, I’m pretty sure he’s on-call, so we’re both safe from that horror."

"Thank god. Lead the way, Stevens! I’d like to get back before I end up passed out in a stranger’s bushes." Again.

As they approached the front steps of a house she had seen so many times without entrance, Amelia sucked in a breath. She knew she might be spiraling out again, but she felt better. She felt like she could breathe, if only for a moment. “You know, Doctor Model, you actually are kinda fun. We should do this again some time.”

In the morning she would wake to a pounding headache filled with regret and self-loathing. She would use the palms of her hands to straighten out last night’s clothes and finger-comb her tangled locks, ducking out before anyone could see her. She would contemplate going to a meeting or calling Charlotte or Sheldon or her sponsor. She would spend a day locked in her apartment, drowning her sorrows. She would consider putting her prescription pad to use. She would pour herself another drink. She would lose herself again. But damn she’d had fun doing it — and right now, that was all that mattered.