Arizona's POV
It happened so fast I never in saw the truck until it was too late. I'd been so caught up in the moment; so lost with the idea that Calliope and I could be married that I just hadn't seen it.
I could hardly bring myself to open my eyes, not wanting to see the scene before me: when I forced them open I immediately wished that I hadn't. My face was squished into the airbag that had been released on impact and as I sat up and looked to my right there was nothing. Where Callie should've been there was just broken glass and as my eyes followed the shards I panicked as my eyes fell upon two bloody feet, one without a shoe on. Calliope.
I tried to move but I couldn't. Not mentally that is; I couldn't physically move. As I looked down it soon became clear why as I took in a huge pipe sticking out of my lower abdomen. As it turned out the truck had stopped in the middle of the road because its cargo had started to fall off the back of the truck; it's cargo being these pipes. One had fallen off the back and the driver had been trying to get it back onto the truck when our car ran straight into it. Now my beautiful pregnant girlfriend was strewn across the bonnet and I couldn't get to her to help because I had a huge pipe pinning me to the seat. I began to struggle to keep my eyes open but fought the darkness as best as I could.
The driver of the truck ran around like a mad man between Callie's body and mine, he'd rung an ambulance and the fire service and they were on the way. My thoughts drifted to Calliope and the baby. I had been so set against the idea of kids, then the shooting had happened and I realised that I couldn't live my life without Calliope in it and so I'd said we could have kids. Then Africa happened. I left her, the love of my life, in an airport. Then I was there, living my dream, saving kids in Malawi when all I could think of was how much I wanted to be at home with Callie. So I'd come back. Got a door slammed in my face but continued to push my way back into her life. Then in an elevator she had crushed me as she told me that she was pregnant with Mark Sloan's baby. Part of me had wanted to run straight back to Africa but that wasn't going to be me anymore; I wasn't going to bail again on the woman that I loved so much. So I stuck by her and although living with Mark as part of my life wasn't ideal, to say the least, my head was filled with the thought of Callie, me and a beautiful baby. Now the carpet had been pulled aggressively from underneath our feet and as I drifted off into unconsciousness I just prayed that Calliope and our baby would be ok even if I wasn't.