B E T T Y | Grey's Anatomy

3

Rain is not at all unusual for Seattle. In fact, it's more unusual for the sidewalks to be dry. So it is unrealistic for Betty to be surprised that her feet are getting wet as she walks the streets a couple nights later. Outside isn't nearly quiet enough for Betty- too many cars and people and sirens.
Betty got out of Amelia's penthouse as fast as she could. Being in a small en-suite with the woman was way too much social interaction. The excuse that her parents wanted her home was a good one, and one Amelia wouldn't dare say no to. Betty agreed to call Amelia every now and then, the doctor adamant that she wouldn't let her former daughter slip away so easily again, yet three days later, Betty is existing as if the reunion never happened at all. Her usual guilt has multiplied tenfold, realising how easily she lied to Amelia.

"Betty are you sober?" Amelia's eyes pierced her skull.

"No, I'm sober!" She remembers nodding. That was truthful, she was sober in that moment.

"I've been sober since the day I left." And there was the lie that slipped so easily from Betty's lips. She didn't even mean to lie. It was simply habit. Betty hasn't done heroin. That's honest. Her choice of drug has simply changed. She lets out some of the guilt on her next exhale. She didn't lie to Amelia, she omitted the truth.

Stormy weather seems more welcoming than the beige box that Betty sleeps in at home. Since graduating high school a few months ago, with her name on the track honours list, Betty has been circling Amelia Shepherd's house like a stalker, not wishing to spend her free time with her father and mother, despite their emotional reunion last year. When the doctor abruptly moved to the high-rise penthouse, Betty was thankful she had been at the Shepherd residence, able to follow the moving van to its new address. Betty never actually caught a glimpse of Amelia in all the time that she skulked around her side of Seattle, instead feeling enough comfort knowing she was within 100 metres of her ex-mother, and could run to her if she needed. Betty is a very good runner. Track star of her high school. She tore her ACL at one of the first meets of her sophomore season, the operation sucked and she was handed a death sentence prescription of oxycodone. Betty can't help but feel a twisted sense of relief that all the pain and suffering lead her to Amelia.

Spending an evening with Amelia seemed to have ripped the band aid off for Betty, and she finds herself wanting to ring that doorbell more than she ever used to, despite knowing any interaction with the doctor would be ladened with lies of omission. As the rain picks up to a ridiculous speed, Betty relents.

"Fuck sake." she mumbles to herself, pressing the elevator button with no response. She curses Amelia Shepherd and her nice views as she beings her ascent of the high-rise.

"If I just showed up...." Betty runs through scenarios in her head. What would Amelia say this time? How many times can she show up unprompted at the neurosurgeons door before she gets suspicious, or worse, irritated?

"Would you want me?" On floor six, Betty allows herself to fantasise. She rings the bell, Amelia runs out, takes note of the fresh bruise on Betty's wrist and pulls her in for their first hug in a year. Betty will stand on the porch, her arms slowly wrapping around the older woman as she lets a year's worth of tears fall- all the pain and the fear since she's been alone in the world. Amelia would lift the girl into her arms, cooing, "Oh sweetheart, I'm here!", and swaying in rhythmic time with the rain. Betty would be tucked up on her couch, with her blanket, and her neurosurgeon holding her as they talk about everything and nothing.

On floor 39, dizziness hits Betty, and with dizziness comes rationality. Amelia doesn't want her. Amelia is busy. Amelia will not hug her. Amelia does not use pet names. Betty has done too many things wrong. Betty is too much of a liability. Betty was a burden on the Shepherd's unconventional family. Betty has done awful things. Betty doesn't deserve forgiveness. With rationality, Betty succumbs to her anxiety, her finger falling from its position on Amelia's doorbell. She daren't ring it, but daren't leave the cocoon of safety she feels from being metres away from that couch. Instead, she wraps herself tightly in the beige hug of her coat and sinks against the door, holding her wrist in the most comfortable position she can find. The injury isn't fresh, but is exacerbated nightly with the same grip that caused the sprain in the first place. Betty rests her arm on the shelf of her pulled up knees, sighing as the blood drains from the throbbing swelling. She can rest here. Close enough to Amelia that she can sleep, but far enough away that the guilt and the memories and the burdensome feelings she gets in the brunettes presence can't touch her.