A/N: this just kinda came to mind one day while I was trying to work on my other story, Adventures with My PED's Surgeon. I didn't want to put this in that story, so I decided to make it its own. So, let me know what you think.
Raye
It had been a month.
A month since I heard the news.
A month since my world shattered into 10 million pieces.
A month since I last laughed or smiled.
A month since I last left the apartment, let alone gotten out of bed.
A month since my heart was ripped out of my chest and thrown into the middle of the sea, never to be found again.
For a month I have been living in the darkness.
For a month I haven't seen blonde curls, heelys, bright blue eyes, a super magic smile, or heard the words "yay, awesome, super".
One month ago today, Arizona Robbins, the love of my life, was killed.
I hate thinking about it. I try my best not to. But I can't find myself to think about much else.
Arizona was my world. She was my strength. I needed her to stay alive. That makes me wonder how I am still alive today.
I hear my bedroom door creak open. I look up and see Mark staring at me. He has worry written all over his face.
I look back down at the ground, and Mark takes a seat next to me on the bed, careful not to touch anything near Arizona's side of the bed.
"Hey, Cal. How are you doing today?" he asks me, placing a hand on my knee.
"Same as always," I mumble.
He sighs deeply. He stands up and walks over to my dresser and pulls out some clean clothes. He puts them in the bathroom, and then picks me up off the bed and carries me to the bathroom. He undresses me an starts the water for a shower. He sets me in the tub, the water falling over me like a waterfall. He sits on the ledge behind me and shampoo and conditions my hair.
When my hair is clean, he massages my body with Arizona's favorite scent of body wash, and then he shaves my under arms and legs.
When I am fully clean, he turns the water off and sets me down on the bathroom floor, wrapping a towel around me. I run my fingers along the tiles of the bathroom floor, remembering the time me and Arizona had made love there. I start to cry and Mark quickly has his arms around me, telling me everything will be ok.
But it won't be ok. Nothing will ever be ok. Arizona is gone. Nobody can do anything about it.
Mark dresses me and combs my hair, braiding it into two soft pig tails, a skill he learned from his daughter, Abby.
Mark and Lexie had gotten married. They have a five year old daughter named Abigail Claire Sloan. She has dark hair like Lexie had, and the kind eyes of Mark. She was beautiful in every way possible. She was everything I would want my daughter to be like.
Mark walked me to the kitchen and made me sit at the island. He made me lunch, and then fed it to me. After I was done, he sat in the chair next to me.
"Callie, we need to talk," Mark said.
"What is left to talk about?" I asked quietly.
He took my hand in his and held it tightly.
"Callie, I'm worried about you. We all are. We are afraid that you are going to try to kill yourself, and none of us would be able to handle that. Please, take care of yourself," Mark said.
The thought of killing myself made my stomach turn. Never would I ever even think about doing that. Even if it did mean being with Arizona again. I will wait for my time to come.
"I would never kill myself, Mark. You know that," I said.
"I know that. I just need to hear you say that. I couldn't handle losing you; you are my best friend, Callie. But you need to stop treating yourself like this. Arizona would want you to be happy," Mark explained to me.
I looked up at him.
"Don't you dare bring Arizona into this. It's not her fault! Nothing is ever her fault! What happened to her a month ago today was not her fault! It was some sick bastard! A bastard that if I ever meet will be dead in seconds. You can't blame Arizona!" I yelled at him, my emotions going wild inside of me.
"Callie, I never said it was her fault," Mark said to me softly.
"Nothing is her fault!" I repeated, tears welling up in my eyes.
"Do you want to talk...about what happened?" Mark asked carefully.
I ripped my hand away from him and stood up, knocking the stool I had been sitting on over.
"No! I don't want to talk about it! Don't you dare make me talk about it! Get out! Right now!" I yelled, pointing at the door.
Mark stood up slowly, looking defeated.
"I'll...umm...see you tomorrow then, Cal. Try not to give Christina a hard time tonight. We are just trying to help," Mark said, and then he kissed my cheek and walked out the door.
I slammed the door behind him and then sunk down to the floor right in front of it. I buried my face in my hands.
It wasn't her fault.