Major trigger warning. This Story will involve talk of sexual assault and self harm. If this could trigger any issues for you please DO NOT read. If anybody needs to talk about any of the subjects involved, please instant message me. I will attempt to use trigger warnings on each individual chapter based on its content.

I am in no way a specialist in any of the following subjects so if I have any factual details wrong feel free to inform me. I am English and have tried to adapt my spelling to American English but it is highly probable that I missed some details - sorry.

I own absolutely nothing. Character Credit to Shonda and ABC.

This is an AU so although many details of Amelia's life are taken from Private Practice and Grey's Anatomy some of the details are just from my imagination. If you need any separation between TV show world and my imagination message me and I will try to help. You do not have to have seen PP to read but I do advice you to watch it because it is AMAZING. In this story Omelia has not happened, it will become apparent why in the first few chapters.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 Trigger Warnings: Substance Abuse / Sexual Assault /

Amelia POV

Everyday is a struggle. Simple as that. I struggle, but I cope. I get up, I go to work, I go to meetings (sometimes narcotics anonymous, sometimes alcoholics anonymous) and I don't do drugs. I survive by following this routine every day. Some days are worse than others but I can normally tell how a day's going to go by how well the night before passed, how many nightmares I've had, how many times I've woken in a panicked sweat, how many times I've cried myself into such a state I knew there would be no more sleep.

After I saw my dad die, my mom made me go to therapy. I'm not sure what a therapist can say to a 5 year old to make the murder of her father less influential in life. I mean, what was their plan? Have me draw pictures of my dad alive and dead so I know the difference? Help separate my fantasies from the cruel reality I was living. Ask me about that day, the worst day repeatedly? Honestly, looking back on it I don't think she was a real therapist, especially after working with Violet and Sheldon in LA. I only saw her a few times, maybe if I kept going things wouldn't have turned out like they did. After that I wasn't really a priority in my mom's life. Derek was the one who took care of me. He packed my lunches, walked me to school, he tucked me in on a night, everything a mother should have been doing, Derek did. I am grateful for that, I am but I wish my mother was more involved. From my perspective, I grew up without a mother. Derek tried, my sisters were there sometimes but at the end of the day, teenagers want their space and I was alone a lot of the time, for so long that being alone became my thing, I was more comfortable that way. If my Mom was there for me then maybe things would have been different. Maybe I would have been home that night instead of walking home from that party alone.

I don't know why I went to the party. I wasn't really invited, but then again, who is invited to high-school house parties. I didn't have any friends to go with, I didn't have any friends at all. I wasn't a typical 16 year old. I remember wanting to show people that words didn't hurt, and that I was strong enough to stand my ground. I didn't need friends to be happy. At first I got awkward glares from people, I guess they were wondering what I was doing so far out of my comfort zone. I couldn't have been there long when someone gave me a drink, I can't remember who it was but I appreciated at least a simple act of kindness. I also appreciated that they didn't give me alcohol, just some off brand cola, at least that's what I thought. I don't remember much after that. I remember feeling nauseous and deciding to go home. I tried calling Derek to come pick me up but he didn't answer his phone so I must have decided to walk. I remember seeing a sign for a pharmacy and the shock when someone grabbed my arm and dragged me behind a building. I remember the pain.

Until that night, I was a virgin. I should have known not to leave the party alone. I should have called Addison or one of my sisters. When I regained consciousness there was a moment I thought it wasn't real, just a bad dream. I'd read about that, when you wake up in a dream and you think you're awake and then you wake up again. I checked my bag and my cash was gone but my phone and cards were still there. The sun was coming up and I wanted to get home before my mom woke up. The last thing I need is being told off for being back late. I thought about telling her what happened but she didn't need anymore stress in her life. I could have told Derek but I didn't want him to get into shit trying to find the guy, or he would force me to go to the police and then I'd have to go to court and tell people how irresponsible I'd been and talk about what I now consider to be the new worst night of my life. And the pity, I didn't want people's pity. I wanted to finish school and study medicine at college. I want to be a doctor. I wanted to help people, not be the person who needed help. But life just didn't agree with me.

Instead of leaving for school the next day, I left and went to the ER anonymously. I lied and told them I was 18 and didn't want anybody to know what had happened. I had savings for college in my bank to pay for the medical care I would receive. I didn't say much about what happened. I denied the rape kit, despite the nurses trying to convince me. I can't afford to spend $1000 when I don't intend to go to court. I had to have stitches, external and internally. I had lots of bruising and a couple of broken ribs. Most of the damage was easy to hide with clothes, at least physically. They did a swab and told me he'd most likely used a condom, at least I wasn't pregnant. I refused most of the unnecessary tests so the trip it didn't take too long. They prescribed me some painkillers and that was that. I picked them up and went to school. I thought that was the end of it.

I wish that was the end of it. I wish.