Title: Love/Addiction
Author: winehouse4
Rating: PG
Summary: "The hallway was spinning and she sounded pathetic, even to herself ..." Callie's thoughts at the end of Love/Addiction. About as O'Callie as I can get at this point.
Notes: I haven't written anything in ages, so it's pretty rough. Constructive criticism would be appreciated.

'Please.

'I'm asking you not to say anything,

'I'm asking you to just ... not.'

Her gut was twisting, twisting. It was tied in knots and pulled her heart to the floor and made her entire body (hands, thighs, breasts) itch. The air was heavy and hot and got stuck in her throat. She couldn't breathe.

Why couldn't she breathe?

'Not tonight.'

She was a train wreck. The hallway was spinning and she sounded pathetic, even to herself, and she wanted – needed – the man that she married to want her, to need her (and then she was in an elevator with the woman she hated and envied and wanted to be). Had it always been this way?

Yes.

She could feel the walls deconstructing around her. They were rotting into nothing, the ceiling folding up its tiles and filing them away, the ground turned to dust. A baby's cries were echoing through the broken and desolate halls but she couldn't find it (never did find it) so she didn't bother looking and just stared and focused and shook. It was over (over, over). The word taunted her.

'I am your wife.'

For now.

He didn't love her. Her gut was twisting, twisting again, and it was starting to tear. She could feel it. The halls were still melting. Where was she? There was a draft and it was cold and stung her throat but the air still felt thick and went on forever. What was going on? It was over.

A baby was crying.

She hadn't even lost it.

'Do this for me?'

Her eyes began to burn and tear up and spill over and she couldn't tell because everything else (head, heart, soul) hurt too. She could only see him, only ever him, and he was always looking over her shoulder for the blonde, stacked supermodel that she couldn't ever, ever measure up to. Where were the walls?

She lost track of them somewhere along the way and they were gone now and it was raining and she was cold and wet and pathetic (alone) and tired (alone) and he was going to leave her (alone).

And he had said 'Okay.' and it didn't help because the walls were still gone and if the rain cleared for now it would just be back tomorrow.

And the air was heavy.

And her gut was twisting, twisting ...