Summary:The thing about raising a child, is that it makes us confront our own childhood experiences; our relationships with our parents and siblings; the mistakes we want to avoid. It makes us revisit the memories, the good experiences and the ones we could have done without.

Warning: Mature themes discussed

AN:Following a long and detailed discussion with a colleague, I thought I would continue to process my thoughts as well as my professional and personal opinion through the utilisation of my favourite Grey's characters. As I do. :-) My interest is little in the debate itself but more so in the negotiation, the fall out and the way we can find ourselves thrown back to the experiences of our childhood with simple questions and life stages. I hope you can indulge my introspect in this (likely) two-shot.


Part 1/2

Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them.

(Oscar Wilde)

"No Sofia! No!" The words drifted through the apartment like an overused record, a song stuck on repeat. Items crashed to the floor and Sofia's brief wail reverberated against the walls before heavy footsteps carved a well worn path from the kitchen to the main bedroom. A mixing bowl tumbled through the open door first, the grating sound of cracking plastic being elicited as it was kicked angrily out of the way. "Here," Callie muttered, holding a now grinning Sofia in front of her and towards Arizona, who sat with a pile of medical journals surrounding her on the bed. "You need to deal with her for a while. If I have to stop her from opening the dishwasher one more time, I'm gonna blow."

Arizona's forehead creased lightly in concern, fumbling as Callie released Sofia onto her lap. She was squirming immediately, reaching and gripping papers, kicking as she tried to manoeuvre herself free. "Use the child lock…" Arizona said with a sigh, wincing as a foot connected with her abdomen.

"I don't want to use the lock, it's a hassle for us," Callie ranted, face flushed and voice pressured. "She needs to learn what she can and cannot touch; we are not going to spend our life removing things from her. She's not too young for rules." She had reached her limit for the day or week, perhaps. Arizona had been spending long hours at the hospital and then coming home to do more research, as usual, desperately trying to perform a miracle and save the most recent palliative child on the ward. The consequence was that Callie was carrying the bulk of parenting; not that she minded, she had certainly had times when Arizona had picked up the slack and ultimately, the equity was there. But the timing with Sofia's newfound independence and defiance was cutting her patience thin. Sofia had run head first into the toddler years, a volatile combination of Arizona's stubbornness and Callie's unrelenting ability to maintain energy. Anyone who suggested that nature was solely responsible for a child's personality had not had the pleasure of meeting their child. She could emulate Arizona's timing of a cheeky grin to perfection, bringing any chastising party to their knees instantly, not to mention an uncanny ability to use affection to her greatest advantage. Chubby hands that tugged on any item of clothing in the midst of being disciplined and the soft voice that would tearfully request Up Mama, before burrowing into frustrated arms.

Arizona nodded in response, hastily trying to remove items from Sofia's grasp as she escaped and quickly tried to cross the bed. "Sofia!" Arizona attempted, voice loud and urgent, reaching out to catch her ankle before she plummeted headfirst off the side.

"Just get her to bed, it's past her bedtime. I need a shower or something before I completely lose it."

"Okay," Arizona managed to say, gripping the toddler to her stomach and standing up. She exhaled heavily again, catching a rogue elbow across her cheekbone. Sofia started to scream and cry almost immediately, acutely aware that that the term 'bed' had been articulated and that Arizona was the person that was going to force her to sleep. She reached out for Callie, arching her back with tears tumbling down her cheeks, her face scrunching up.

Callie clenched her teeth and shared a frustrated glance with Arizona, the first time in their short interaction that she had sought eye contact. "Enough Sofia!" she exclaimed, voice barely controlled to a firm utterance.

"Just go take a shower," Arizona intervened, briefly trailing an open palm down Callie's arm. "I've got this."

"Mommy needs more than a bloody shower, she needs a vodka," Callie muttered, throwing her hands up and disappearing quickly into the bathroom, closing the door heavily with hope of drowning out the battle that would surely pursue.

"You hear that?" Arizona spoke quickly, walking towards the kitchen with one arm still tightly holding the irrational child against her body as she stepped over various clean dishes on the floor. "You're turning your Mother into an alcoholic. We don't want that now do we? You're going to end up in military school by the time you're thirteen at this rate. Or more likely living with your Father, then you'd be able to run amok. Mommy's never going to get a sibling for you unless find that halo you had when you were a baby."

Sofia continued her unrelenting struggle, fighting the inevitable outcome. A similar fight occurred most nights, although it was always worse when bedtime was delayed, usually because one of them had been caught up at work and dinner was later than usual. Arizona worked at filling a bottle with milk from the carton in the fridge, singlehandedly attempting to loosen and secure the cap. It was one of the only soothing strategies that worked, a bottle or sipper cup of milk before nap or bedtime and always an old tattered small pink blanket with an elephant in the middle that would be tucked under one arm. Effy as Sofia would say, reminiscent of her first attempts at verballing the word 'elephant'. "Right then," Arizona muttered, catching another kick to the stomach. "It's definitely time for bed Miss Devil Incarnate."

"No," Sofia said firmly as Arizona twisted her around so she was resting on her hip and she struggled not to express a small smile. Sofia's expression was an exact replica of Callie when she got mad, eyes wide and staring, lips pursed and shoulders raised, her face was stained with tears.

"You want your bottle?" Arizona asked, twisting the top on underneath Sofia before holding it up and front of her. She immediately reached for it, tugging it to her chest and gripping it in her small arm. "Thanks?"

Sofia hesitated slightly, staring directly into Arizona's eyes. "Tanks," she eventually muttered, suddenly smiling.

Arizona cast her eyes to the ceiling as she walked towards Sofia's room, releasing a long and controlled breath. Nothing like the patience test of a child, and their impossible ability to move from untamed to agreeable in two seconds flat. She settled Sofia quickly onto her bed, simultaneously sliding her security blanket from under the pillow and checking her diaper to see if it needed changing. The bottle was quickly in Sofia's mouth as she lay back drinking the cool liquid whilst Arizona tucked her tightly in and extended the protective side rail. The child followed Arizona intently with her eyes, though they glassed quickly and her eyelids became heavy resulting in long blinks. Sitting on the floor beside the bed, Arizona hummed quietly, reaching out and patting her tummy lightly.

Ten minutes passed and the empty bottle slid on to the pillow and to the mattress, Sofia's eyes fluttering with an incomprehensible muttering of words and sounds being emitted from her mouth. Arizona continued to rhythmically tap her palm to Sofia's tummy, predictably humming the same tune for a few more minutes until she became unmoving and silent. Slowly, she withdrew her hand and quietly rose to her feet, carefully taking the bottle and tiptoeing out of her room and pulling the door almost closed. Callie met her in the kitchen, towel dried hair against her neck and dressed in a loose camisole and cotton boyshorts as she collected items from the floor. "You don't need to do that," Arizona said softly.

"Oh it's fine. My shower calmed me down; any idea how something so damn gorgeous can be so indignant?"

Arizona grinned, grabbing a few remaining items from the dishwasher and putting them in their rightful position. "I have a few ideas," she answered, laughing. "Just remember, we want her to be like this when she's older, strong-willed and confident."

"Mmmm, did I not tick that box for when she's twenty-one rather than two?"

They both laughed quietly, moving instinctively around the kitchen in a familiar dance like action. A few minutes later and the floor and benches were clean with the dishwasher closed and child locked. "I'm so tired," Arizona murmured, flicking light switches until darkness enveloped them and they padded softly to their bedroom. Callie nodded her agreement, starting to bundle up the mass of journals and articles left discarded on the bed whilst Arizona moved towards the bathroom, brushing her teeth with the door open.

"Have you actually managed to find anything yet?"

Arizona shook her head, leaning forward to spit toothpaste into the basin. "No, unfortunately. I can't find a trial protocol or even a suggestion at something that might work."

"She'll die?"

"She'll die, and soon."

Callie glanced empathetically at Arizona, biting her bottom lip sadly. "I'm sorry."

Arizona shrugged, tossing water over her face and patting her skin with a hand towel. "I'm going to tell them tomorrow that there's nothing more I can do. She's been on my ward for half her life, what do I do? Send them home with her?"

"If they want to, I guess," Callie slid herself under the covers and repositioned her pillow to rest sitting back. "I don't know, how long will she have?"

Arizona changed quickly, pushing her jeans off her hips and replacing her shirt with a loose old jersey of Callie's. "Days I suppose, maybe weeks, but I doubt it. She wouldn't survive another surgery and it wouldn't achieve anything anyway."

"You know there's nothing you can do, right?" Arizona quietly ignored the question and pushed the bathroom door closed briefly, opening it seconds after the toilet flushed. She flicked the light and padded barefoot across the room, slipping into bed. "Right, Arizona?" Callie repeated.

"Yes, Calliope; I know." And she did know, but being cognitively aware of something isn't the same as being emotionally okay with it. Intellectually, she knew her limitations as a surgeon, as a doctor. But what people failed to understand, was that it was all good in theory but when you stood across from crying parents or had a little girl who could hardly move, tug you in so that she could touch your 'goldilocks hair', the practice was so much more difficult.

"It's not like you didn't try, I mean, you've spent every spare minute looking at options. We've barely seen you in weeks."

Arizona nodded slowly. "Sorry," she muttered, curling on to her side and slipping her hand into Callie's. She felt so torn sometimes, between the pressure at work and her own family. It was something she hadn't considered when she had finally accepted the idea of having children. She thought she could manage the fear and the protectiveness, the obvious consequence of having children die under her knife. The guilt though, that came as a confronting surprise; the odd feeling of relief and almost shame, of having her own very healthy little girl at home. A little girl that had too much energy and too much fire; it was such a different world to that which she was immersed in during working hours.

Callie squeezed her hand gently, releasing the pressure and entwining their fingers. "Oh it's fine, really. I just miss you; I like it when you share the horror nights, makes it a little less traumatic for all involved." She smiled, rolling her head to the side and pressing a kiss into Arizona's hair. She narrowed her eyes at the slight red mark under Arizona's eye, just a tiny pink tinge to the pale skin. "We do need a bit of a behaviour plan though I think, well, maybe not a behaviour plan but still, something about how we're going to do consequences. And Mark needs to be told too, he just lets her tear up his place like a hurricane."

"Yeah, sure; there needs to be consistency. We already do the naughty mat, maybe we could do it more often or more structured. What else is there?"

Callie stared at the ceiling quietly, working on how to articulate her next question whilst Arizona stared at her expectantly. "Where do you sit on smacking?" she asked softly.

Callie heard Arizona's breathing hitch slightly and her thumb that was stroking against the back of her hand halted movement for a few seconds. "Ummm," she started hesitantly, forehead creased. "I'm not really a fan." The sentence failed to convey her real opinion, which was an overt and definite objection to any form of corporal punishment. "You?"

Shrugging, Callie hesitated again, considering her words carefully. "I'm definitely not into you know, anything full on; it doesn't teach them anything. But I was talking to Dad and he said he gave us the occasional smack, especially for things like trying to touch a hot stove or oven. I feel like Sofia is going to get hurt because she's so adventurous – always climbing on furniture or getting into the kitchen. I can't think of another way to show her, in the moment, that something is dangerous."

"Do you remember it?"

"Kind of, I can only think of a handful of occasions. I think the last was when I was a teenager and Dad found a packet of cigarettes in my school bag, he chased me around the house with Mom's wooden spoon. I'm fairly sure I deserved it," Callie answered, laughing lightly. "First and last packet I ever bought too, mind you. What about you? Weren't you brought up to be able to defend yourself, throw punches and all that? Surely with 'The Colonel'…"

Arizona sighed and fidgeted, stretching her legs out and curling them back up. She was tired and had an emotionally draining day awaiting her tomorrow so her interest in having an in-depth conversation with Callie over the pros and cons of disciplining options was negligible. It also meant revisiting her past, her childhood, and disclosing to her wife, the imperfections that she had finally accepted and integrated. Her father had been incredible in so many ways, accepting of her sexuality, encouraging of her career choice and insanely protective; but he was a hard man who had an inability to accept mistakes, from himself or his children. His expectations were superbly high and his tolerance for weakness or falling below the bar, was almost completely absent. He had raised his children to be someone, to be more than they thought possible, and he had been unrelenting in his efforts. Arizona had accepted long ago, that his means had their origins firmly planted in love and hope; there was no lack of control or wild emotion in his actions, everything about him was deliberate and planned. The behaviour however, she didn't accept and the laying of a hand on her impressionable little girl wasn't something she was willing to consider.

"Hey – I know you're sleepy, I didn't mean to raise this now. I'm just frustrated and out of options." Callie had stared for minutes at Arizona as she clearly processed a rush of thoughts, her expression flashing chaotically.

The comment brought her quickly back to the present where she met Callie's concerned eyes. "I don't want anyone, including us, lashing out when we're angry," Arizona articulated carefully and controlled.

Nodding, Callie tugged at Arizona's hand and draped it over her stomach, pressing a number of kisses to her forehead in quick succession. Arizona had her cheek almost resting on Callie's shoulder, so her warm breath spread over her skin. "Enough said," Callie acknowledged, laying her arm and hand so that it shadowed Arizona's across her body.

With blond hair falling loosely across her face, Arizona dipped her face to press into Callie's shoulder, closing her eyes and moving her body so that it leant heavily against Callie's side. "Good," she responded, almost inaudibly.

They lay silently for a few minutes before Callie's reached out and switched the bedside lamp off, leaving a heavy darkness to suddenly cloak the room. Moving the same hand across her body, she ran her fingers into Arizona's hair and scratched lightly at her scalp. "All good?" she asked and felt a slight nod against her shoulder in response. "I'm not sure that's the best position to sleep in…" Hearing a soft chuckle, she continued to knead her fingers through Arizona's hair, rubbing at her neck and the base of her skull.

A few more minutes passed before Arizona rotated her hand that was wrapped around Callie's stomach and gripped her forearm. She rolled her body, her eyes following the faint light that ran across the ceiling, infiltrating the corners of the blockout curtains they used to cover the window. She pressed her back firmly into Callie's chest, a tight hold still on the arm she had pulled with her. Callie keenly moulded into the contours of Arizona's body, snaking herself to shadow her legs and press her hips against the Arizona's buttocks. "Thanks," Arizona whispered, feeling Callie tighten her grip and press her lips against the exposed skin of her shoulder, just above the neckline of her loose shirt.

"I'll never hurt her," she said gently after a long silence, sleep starting to drift over them both.

Arizona slowly released a long breath, her spine expanding. "I know."

"Good."

"I'll explain," Arizona murmured after another few minutes of comfortable and peaceful quietness, her eyes closed and body relaxed. "Just not tonight."

Callie smiled, her lips curling to lightly kiss the skin she was resting against. "I know," she responded before drifting to sleep, contentedly inhaling the delicious aroma of the blond hair that shared her pillow.


TBC…

Apologies for any typos or errors that weren't picked up with my proofread. I really need to self-beta at an earlier hour. Thanks to the reader who picked up on my mis-spelling of 'Sofia' in a previous fic, I go completely oblivious to some details sometimes!

Cheers.