"Just like a shadow. I'll be beside you. I'll be your comfort. And let it guide you home. I will provide you a place of shelter....If I could be your angel. Your angel, Your angel. Protect you from the pain. I'll keep you safe from danger. You'll ne...
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Amelia Shepherd's POV
Entering Seattle Grace Hospital, I headed towards the elevator since Addison told me where the neurosurgery department was. As I continued walking towards the elevator, my eyes connected with a young woman who looked exactly like an angel and I couldn't help but smile. The young woman smiled back before walking over to me and I couldn't help but feel nervous.
"Hi. My name is Dr. Clarissa Grey. Can I help you with something?" Clarissa says and it occurs to me that she's the girl Derek sexually assaulted.
"I'm Dr. Amelia Shepherd and I'm here to kick my former big brother's ass."
"It is nice to meet you Amelia. How about the two of us go to the cafeteria to grab some breakfast? My treat." Clarissa suggests to me.
"Like a date?"
"I suppose so. I am on-call right now so this is not the most ideal place for a date." Clarissa says and I give her a smile.
"Oh I completely understand." Clarissa smiles and leads me towards the cafeteria where we grab our food.
"I have autism, sensory and auditory processing disorders, asthma, ptsd and am hard of hearing." Clarissa tells me before paying for our meals and we go sit at a table close to the window.
"Addie told me about that already. She just wanted me to be prepared if I ever met you, angel."
"Why are you calling me angel?" Clarissa asks me before eating her breakfast sandwich.
"Because you are an angel. You're especially beautiful like one." Clarissa smiles with a slight blush on her cheeks.
"Aww, are you blushing for little old me?"
"Nobody has ever called me an angel before." Clarissa explains and I take a sip from my coffee.
"Well I'll always call you angel. How about I take you out for dinner next week?"
"I would love to go out with you." Clarissa says with a smile on her face.
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Clarissa's POV
"I always divided surgeons into two categories: Those that remember the names of their patients and those who didn't. They all remember their surgeries, of course. Every damn suture." Elizabeth says as we were in the elevator, waiting for our floor so I could bring her to her room.
"But the good ones remember the names, right?"
"I didn't say that Clarissa. Now, some of the best ones, you know, distance themselves on purpose. They believe that the personal stuff clouds the medicine." Elizabeth says when we exited the elevator and a few surgeons and nurses greeted her. The two of us entered her room and I wheeled her bed back to where it was before.
