Chapter Text
The soulmate phenomenon is rare, almost too impossible to believe.
It doesn’t start with a mark etched on your skin, nor is it the kind of magic where the world is black and white until you see them, and suddenly, everything is in color.
It actually starts with a touch.
But no, it’s not just any touch - it has to be initiated. It could be a simple brush of fingers, a hand on the arm, a bump of shoulders in passing. Yet the one on the receiving end never feels a thing. Unfortunately, that’s not how it works.
But the person who initiates the contact? They’re the ones who remember.
It happens in a way that makes it even harder to believe. In a way that oftentimes doesn’t make sense. Some say it’s like being in a car crash, like when you feel the whiplash, and see your life flash before your eyes. You know you’ve found your soulmate when memories come in flashes, visions, a slice of life you haven’t lived yet. Initially, your mind goes blank, and then suddenly, everything crashes in. A life with this person that happens before your very eyes.
It comes sometimes through a series of firsts – a fight, a laugh, a kiss. Moments that feel real but haven’t happened yet, though they will, the moment you touch them. Sort of like deja vu.
People are still divided on what it means.
Some believe in it wholeheartedly because they see the visions as fate guiding them to the person they’re meant to be with. While others reject the idea entirely. They argue that love is a choice, that free will matters more. That they can love someone who isn’t their soulmate and still be happy.
Derek did that once, someone who firmly believed soulmates aren’t real.
He married Addison because he loved her, even though there were no visions when he first touched her. But as Addison knew, and as Derek learned the (hard way) too, it doesn’t work out that way. Their marriage didn’t last, and for years, he wondered if maybe he had gotten it wrong.
But then it took a move to Seattle, a drink in a bar, and everything became clear the moment he first saw Meredith. The first time he touched her, he started having a vision of a life with her - of them joking about making vows on a post-it note.
And that’s when he realized that some things, no matter how much you try to ignore them, can’t be forced.
Good for him.
Really.
But Amelia isn’t about to start believing in the whole soulmate propaganda just because Derek suddenly changed his mind after it worked out with Meredith.
Amelia Shepherd doesn’t believe in soulmates. For starters, she’s a doctor.
She’s a woman of science, grounded in logic. And if soulmates were real, she would have known by now.
Amelia thinks the entire concept is ridiculous. Hell, she could go out right now and touch every stranger she passes just to test the theory - but what would be the point?
She sighs heavily, shaking the ridiculous thought from her head.
Again, this is all Derek’s fault.
Stupid fucking Derek for getting into her head.
Amelia tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to think about how quickly it happened for him. How something sparked the second he touched Meredith - even while he was still married to Addison. It honestly gets under her skin. The idea that it can happen like that.
That a touch can change everything, and that it doesn’t matter who you’re still committed to.
Maybe to Derek, it was clarity. But to Amelia, it feels too much like betrayal.
Still, she won’t let it mean anything more than it does. She’s not about to start believing in something so stupid just because it happened to him.
Amelia barely has time to dwell on it before she hears her name. Loud and sharp, “Dr. Shepherd!”
The voice cuts through her, loud enough to make her flinch. Her jaw tightens as she shakes her head in disbelief, already knowing exactly who it belongs to before she even turns around.
Arizona Robbins.
The new attending. The new head of peds… apparently, the new pain in Amelia’s ass.
It’s been months since the blonde arrived at Grey Sloan, yet Amelia has yet to warm up to her. She absolutely hates every time neuro gets pulled into a peds case because it just means another day of fighting for her life with this woman.
“Do you seriously want to have this conversation right here?” Amelia snaps as Arizona strides toward her, tablet clutched in her hands. She’s exhausted, annoyed, and just wants to get this over with, but Arizona is stubborn. The most stubborn person she’s ever met. And to think her specialty involves kids? Fuck, she can be so annoying.
“Well, I would have loved to have it in the OR, but you walked out before I could get a word in.” Arizona shoots back, rolling her eyes like a damn child, if Amelia may add. “So yeah, right here works just fine.” She grins in that infuriatingly evil way, and Amelia finds herself willing to do anything just to wipe that look off her face.
Amelia crosses her arms, her features scrunching up in frustration. “This isn’t a neuro case.”
“The kid has a brain bleed, Amelia.”
“Yea- and I told you, she’s not a surgical candidate.”
Arizona scoffs, shaking her head. “You’re making a call without even considering –”
“I considered everything, alright.” Amelia cuts in, trying to contain her voice, but has been constantly failing. “You’re the one who refuses to accept that not every problem is fixable.”
It’s honestly exhausting being in the same space as her.
She hates arguing with Arizona because everything between them becomes so charged. Oftentimes, the tension gets too thick and suffocating that she could literally feel something pressing down on her chest like dead weight.
She hates it. But more than anything – she hates Arizona.
Amelia clenches her jaw again. She’s been doing it so much that it’s starting to hurt. “You’re not listening to me, Robbins. She’s not stable enough for surgery.”
Arizona shakes her head in disbelief, letting out a dry laugh. “God, you can’t possibly be this arrogant.”
“Oh, I’m arrogant?” Amelia steps closer, eyes blazing. “You’ve been here for months. Neuro doesn’t swoop in just because peds wants a miracle… again.”
Arizona’s eyes widen, looking offended as she points at her. “For the last time, this isn’t about what I want. It’s about what the patient needs. And let’s face it – you only hate it when neuro gets pulled into a peds case because–”
“Because it’s always a fight with you!” Amelia cuts her off, “You never stop until you get what you want, and I swear to God, it’s pissing me off.”
“Well, that’s because I fight for my patients, Amelia.” Arizona steps forward now, closing the space between them. She takes advantage of the few inches of height she has over Amelia, towering over her. “And I don’t just walk away when things get difficult.”
The words hit harder than they should, striking a nerve.
How dare Arizona have the audacity to make her feel like she’s the one being unreasonable, like she isn’t advocating for her patient, when she knows what the best course of action is.
And yet, here’s Arizona twisting it… making her feel like the villain.
Her grip tightens around the tablet in her hand as the tension aches in her chest, so tight she feels like she might explode.
She doesn’t think (as always), she just reacts.
Amelia shoves the tablet into Arizona’s hands, their fingers brushing for the briefest second.
And then it happens.
Like some kind of sick joke, of all days - literally after just thinking about this stupid thing with Derek, it happens.
She doesn’t even need to think about it. The moment she felt something was wrong when she touched her, the pieces started falling into place.
Her face goes blank as a flood of images crashes into her mind. Too bright, too fucking real that she nearly loses her balance.
Wait –
If it’s all happening right now… does that mean–
The image shifts.
She sees the hospital hallway again, the same one she’s standing in. But this time, she’s the one walking down it. And she isn’t alone.
Her hand is tangled with someone else’s, fingers laced together so naturally it makes her stomach drop.
Arizona.
Amelia’s first instinct is to pull away. To make it clear she hates how close they are, and the warmth of it all – hates the fact that their hands somehow magically fit together like that.
But the version of her in the vision doesn’t move. Amelia doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look annoyed.
Instead, she just keeps walking beside Arizona like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Amelia watches, stuck inside the moment, as their fingers tighten together without thinking. They share a smile and she feels Arizona’s thumb brushing lightly across the back of her hand like it belongs there. As if it’s something they’ve done a hundred times before.
They share a laugh, and Amelia finds it hard to stomach.
But Arizona doesn’t seem to mind at all.
Instead she tips her head back down where she laughs, faint lines showing at the corner of her eyes. And even though Amelia is still trying to make sense of what she’s seeing, her body betrays her again.
In the vision, she leans closer to Arizona without thinking, and the realization hits her hard, knocking the air out of her lungs.
The hallway around her blurs and she grabs the edge of a nearby counter to keep herself steady. For a second, Amelia just stands there, trying to breathe through it.
Then it’s gone.
The images stop, but somehow she can still feel it. Arizona’s warmth, her awfully beautiful smile, and it lingers in a way that makes her chest feel tight. And the worst part is – she already misses it.
Which is insane considering how much they hate each other.
God.
…
Wait, no.
This isn’t right. It can’t be.
But then again…
Is this what’s supposed to feel like? And why – out of everyone in the world, does it have to be Arizona?
Fate must be laughing, putting them together in some kind of twisted joke, and handing her the most insufferable person she’s ever known.
Just… no.
This isn’t real.
They can’t be this serious. Whoever’s responsible for this can’t actually mean it… right?
Amelia still struggles to believe it, even after hearing it over and over - from the people around her, from her patients, from the TV, hell, even from her own brother. It follows her everywhere all these years, leaving less and less room to pretend it isn’t real - especially now that it’s happened right in front of her.
But of course, she’s still a doctor… and well, maybe – she should just get herself checked. For a tumor, maybe? Or some kind of mental illness? Even if she doubts it. Honestly, she probably looks insane right now. Even worse is how Arizona is still looking at her, completely unaware and unaffected.
Oh, right.
Because isn’t that how it works?
It only happens to the person who initiates the touch.
Amelia swallows hard, forcing down the bile rising in her throat. This isn’t real. It can’t be. And okay – fine. Maybe it is real. Maybe the whole damn thing is real after all. But again, why does it have to be Arizona?
If God is even real, Amelia can’t help but wonder if this is really part of some bigger plan, some lesson she’s supposed to learn, because it feels like it isn’t fate and more like a cruel joke. She doesn’t understand why she doesn’t get a say in it, why she can’t choose who she ends up with instead of having the decision made for her like this.
She bites her lip and stays quiet instead, then turns and walks away before anyone can see the way her emotion slips. Amelia doesn’t look back, mostly because she knows if she does, she might see something on Arizona’s face that makes this harder to ignore. Her cheeks burn, and she can’t tell if it’s anger, embarrassment, or the sinking feeling that this might actually be real.
Part of her keeps trying to explain it away.
Maybe it’s just a mistake, some weird accident of the universe brought on by stress or being around each other too much or arguing one too many times. Besides, it only happened once after all, and that has to mean something. The chances of it happening again have to be small. Maybe in a few days she’ll feel the same thing with someone else and this will all make sense.
She holds onto the thought more than she wants to admit, because the other option means accepting that the universe has already chosen her soulmate for her – and that the person she’s ‘supposed’ to spend the rest of her life with, is the one person she can barely stand.
Amelia doesn’t tell anyone. The thought doesn’t even cross her mind - not in a hospital full of doctors who could look at her the wrong way and decide she’s losing it.
It was just one fleeting moment, she tells herself.
Probably exhaustion catching up with her. Or too much coffee, maybe it’s just her brain playing tricks after days without real sleep and nothing more. So she pushes it aside.
For a few days, that explanation is enough.
Until it happens again.
And this time there’s no ignoring it - especially when it seems to get worse everytime she ends up arguing with Arizona.
“You are impossible!” Arizona’s voice cuts through the attending’s lounge as she slams her cup onto the counter harder than necessary. She spins her chair around to glare at Amelia. “Do you ever listen to anyone but yourself?”
Amelia crosses her arms over her chest and furrows her brows. It’s just too early for this nonsense. “I listen to facts, Robbins, don’t make decisions based on your emotions.”
Arizona pinches the bridge of nose, like she’s trying to keep herself from snapping, and Amelia almost hopes she does. “How many times do I have to remind you it’s called advocating for my patient?”
She sounds ridiculous. Amelia wishes Arizona could hear herself.
“It’s called ignoring protocol,” Amelia fires back, “You don’t get to demand surgery just because –”
“You are the most irrational doctor in this hospital, do you know that?” Arizona cuts her off, eyes narrowing for a brief second before she nods, like she’s daring Amelia to argue.
Of course, Amelia smirks at that, but there’s no humor in it. Because the feeling has always been mutual since the day Arizona stepped into this hospital and ruined everything. “And you don’t think I feel the same way about you? Sweetie, if I had a dollar every time I was forced to share the same space as you, I’d have enough to build another hospital, one where you don’t exist.” It sounds cruel, maybe it is, but she’s mad and the vision she had hasn’t left her mind, and worst of all, she can still feel Arizona’s hand in hers, how soft it was, the way she smiled, beautiful in a way Amelia never noticed before because they were always too busy fighting.
But now isn’t the time to think about that. It wasn’t real – she’s had her sleep, she’s sure it won’t happen again, she’s certain of it.
…
But it’s ironic how the universe always finds a way to tell her otherwise.
Arizona throws her hands up in exasperation as she gets up from her chair, taking a few steps to the bin, tossing her coffee away. “You know what? Forget it. I’m done having this conversation with you.”
Arizona turns to leave, heading to the door, but Amelia is not done. For some reason, Amelia is not having it, like she actually feels crazy for still wanting to pick a fight. Because they’re not done. Arizona doesn’t get to decide that.
“Do not walk away from me,” she warns, grabbing Arizona’s arm before she can leave.
And she knows instantly, it’s a mistake, a big one. Because the second her fingers brush Arizona’s skin, it hits her again, harder this time, consuming her, and she can’t ignore it. She can’t push it away, and it feels like the world has just shifted under her feet.
Again.
It was raining.
She could hear it pounding against the car’s roof. The windows were fogged up, and the air felt incredibly thick that she could feel her own breath hitching in her chest. She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly so breathless.
Before she can even think, hands are in her hair, pulling her closer, and then suddenly, lips crash against hers, hot and desperate, and she melts into it without a second thought.
Fuck, that feels so good.
Really good.
In all her years with countless men and women, Amelia has never been kissed like this. Never felt anyone want her this fully, never felt heat and urgency pressed against her skin like this. The damp fabric sticks to her as nails claw down her spine. And of course, part of her knows she shouldn’t be enjoying it – but she’s not complaining. She’s not complaining about the fact that she’s straddling someone’s lap, in someone’s car. Not complaining about the kiss, the way their fingers dig in, the shift of clothes under their hands – it’s all too much, and she wants them all anyway.
Amelia’s scared that if she opens her eyes, she’ll lose this moment.
But then again, she’s curious.
She wants to know who this person is. Know, and possibly, thank them because god, they’re one heck of a good kisser. And, maybe even beg just a little, because of course, she’s just a girl and she wants more than this.
So she opens them, but feels her heart drop as she finds that it’s Arizona again, gazing up at her with a mischievous look on her face. The kind that Amelia never sees, because they spend too much time hating each other.
Shit. It’s the second time this has happened.
… so this is real then.
There’s just no excuse this time, not anymore. She’s spent the whole night convincing herself it couldn’t be real, but it’s happening again – for the second time.
Amelia’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for someone to start laughing, for hidden cameras to appear and tell her it’s all a prank. That Arizona can’t possibly be her soulmate. That she can’t possibly be this… into it - can’t actually feel a little turned on knowing it’s Arizona she’s been kissing all along.
…
But the way Arizona is looking at her, though, that direct, playful, unapologetic gaze, makes it impossible to even deny the heat pooling low in her stomach, settling just between her thighs. Amelia’s used to wanting to kill her, but now it feels like the opposite – like Arizona might actually be the one to kill her with the way she’s looking at her. She’s never been made to feel so wanted, so seen, and it feels… wrong, but good, so wrong it almost hurts.
Fuck. Honestly, she doesn’t even know anymore. Arizona isn’t supposed to be like this. Not hot, not beautiful, not a freaking good kisser – because she’s not her soulmate. Amelia has told herself that over and over, but every sign points straight at her anyway.
The room is spinning again, and her breath is shallow. She blinks, and suddenly, she’s not in the car anymore. Arizona is in front of her - brows furrowed, genuinely concerned, which is a first. “Amelia?”
Amelia blinks hard again, trying to shake the memory of how insanely good Arizona’s lips felt against hers, trying to push away the ridiculous thought that she hates how it ended before she even got to feel Arizona’s lips in all the places she wants them to – okay, too much. Maybe it gets to a point. She should really stop, even if it feels too late, even if it’s impossible to deny.
She clears her throat and swallows hard, forcing down the thought that she just had a vision of Arizona Robbins kissing her in a car while it rained outside.
“Forget it,” she mutters, shaking her head, because there’s really nothing to say. More than that, she’s starting to feel a little turned on just thinking about them in that cramped space again, and it’s embarrassing – because this isn’t the Arizona she wants.
The real Arizona doesn’t even want her. Hell, hates the fuck out of her.
“Just… forget it.”
And this time, she walks away.