Let's Not Stay Away Anymore (Kaimelia)

20: Calling in sick

(y'all have had it too good for too long, i decided. clearly.)

Call me when you have a minute, I need to talk to you.

Texting Kai was one of the first things Amelia did the next morning, second only to opening her eyes and realizing she had a couple of hours until she had to be back at the hospital.

Morning. I'm swamped today, talking's tricky. What's up? Quickly came a response. 

Amelia was still in bed, and as the message lit up her screen, she once again felt her stomach turn. Absolutely zero time to talk was becoming the norm.

She didn't want to be petty, she didn't want to make anything a bigger deal than it was, but everything had accumulated to an extent where it seemed unavoidable.

There had to be a breaking point.

Somehow forcing herself to adopt the strategy of 'if you've got nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all', as difficult as it was, Amelia set her phone back down on the nightstand, and slowly crawled out of bed.

It wasn't yesterday, but Amelia recalled Maggie telling her once, how wolves only left their packs to go off and die, so she should never spiral alone. The previous night had surely been further proof that this approach worked, at least to an extent. She was doing everything she could think to do, to keep herself in one piece.

It was working. For now.

Kind of.

Sleeping more was out of the question though - she'd managed to work herself up to a degree to where remaining still and drifting off were off the table completely, despite the comfort she had found in being with her sisters, and talking things through.

Amelia sighed, grabbing fresh clothes, when her phone buzzed. The call swept away the morning grogginess, and she quickly reached to answer it.

A sinking feeling overcame her, as she saw Richard's name appear on screen.

An emergent case had arrived at the ER, demanding a neurosurgeon's attention, and Richard was phoning all those on staff to see who'd be able to get in first.

Dr. Jones was out of town, and Dr. Carlin wasn't picking up at all.

All Amelia needed was a quick rinse, and she could be there in less than an hour, she told him, grateful for a chance to apply herself, to do something.

Just as promised, a little less than an hour later, Amelia was rushing past the usual morning portion of people at Grey+Sloan, to scrub up and go do the one thing that didn't make her question her own standing.

She'd be able to shine in the only space that ever truly let her, or at least, that's how she felt.

Three hours later, making sure her patient was ready for safe transfer to the post-op wing after the surgery, Amelia thanked the staff for their excellent work, and suddenly felt the lack of coffee in her system threatening to ruin the elation of a job well done.

Let's fix that right now, she assured herself, making way through the familiar building, walking into the already buzzing cafeteria.

Standing in line, her eyes drifted, looking at the people gathered around tables, standing by the windows, or talking in small groups. Some wore worried looks, some laughed, heads thrown back so far it looked like they were about to roll off their shoulders, some intently scrolled their phones, not registering their surroundings in the least.

Maybe it was the lack of coffee, but Amelia wished so desperately to be one of those people. To jump into a dull conversation, have something incredibly important to check on her phone, or worry about something that had nothing to do with what she was worried about.