Title: You Are Not Alone In This
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Rating: PG-13 – a couple bad words
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: An unlikely friendship is formed in the aftermath of a tragic event. Mark/Arizona friendship. Warning: character death.
A/N: My angst muse just wouldn't go away until I finished this. I began this a loooong time ago, before season 7 drama ever happened, but never wanted to finish it until now. So assume that this is set sometime in S7, but Africa and baby Sofia never happened.
A/N2: The title comes from "Timshel" by Mumford and Sons. If you've never heard it, drop everything and go listen now. I don't even care if you read this first or not.
Arizona kicked her shoes off, uncharacteristically not caring in the least where they ended up as she shuffled into their apartment. She sank back into the couch, pinching the bridge of her nose to try to release some pent-up tension. A single tear slid down her cheek, one of many she had dutifully held back all day under the watchful gazes of friends, family, and co-workers. From those who had witnessed Callie and Arizona's relationship, she received pitying glances. Those who knew her the best were trying to show their support, but most were also too upset to really help. As for the others, Arizona could have sworn she'd heard nurses sitting in the back pews calling her some variation of cold or unfeeling.
She drew in a ragged breath as more tears began to fall. She was anything but cold and unfeeling. In fact, she wished she could stop feeling, just for a few moments. She wanted to be numb – she figured that couldn't be worse than the excruciating ache she felt in every bone, muscle, organ of her body, an ache that reached to the very core of her being and made functioning, breathing, living almost impossible.
She let her body slide down so that she was lying on the couch, her head propped against the arm. Blindly fumbling for the half-used pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, she cursed as her nail came in contact with the corner of the table and bent back unnaturally. Finally finding what she so desperately craved, she lit the end and immediately sucked in as much nicotine as her body could handle, not caring that her finger was now dripping blood over her cigarette and crisp black button-down shirt. She inhaled deeply, too deeply, and soon the back of her throat and her lungs burned. She almost smiled at the feeling. Her muscles began to relax with the familiar sensation, and she relished the feel of the tar coating her lungs. It was at the very least a different ache from that which had been plaguing her since she first heard about the accident.
Arizona's tears came in waves. Sometimes a single tear would remain at the precipice of her bottom eyelid, threatening to fall at any moment. Sometimes her tears would come in torrents, streaking her cheeks in their wake. And sometimes tears would pour out in reckless abandon until her body physically could not create any more, but even then she continued to sob, creating no new tears. She had long since stopped trying to dry them; she couldn't even say if she had any more tissues.
She threw the used cigarette back on the table. She knew it was still slightly burning, but in this moment, if the table suddenly erupted in flames, she probably would have just lay there watching it burn.
"Calliope," she breathed, "I need you." As her tears continued to flow, she continued to repeat Calliope's name over and over again, as if the chant could somehow infuse life into Callie's body. Eventually, she found it difficult to keep her eyes open, and she fell asleep, whispering Calliope into the deaf air.
Arizona awoke to what she thought must be an earthquake. She rubbed her eyes, trying in vain to remove the crust that had developed from dried tears. Looking around the apartment, she noticed her discarded shoes, the ash stains on the table, and the blood stain on the couch and she knew this hadn't just been a terrible nightmare.
"Robbins! Open up this damn door!"
Fuck. Mark. She couldn't deal with people, especially not this person, in all his pitying glory. She opted instead to lie back down and hope he would leave. Much to her dismay, the knocking just became more incessant.
"Robbins, I will stay here and knock all night! OPEN THE DOOR!"
Arizona groaned and trudged to the door, throwing it open and glaring at Mark.
"I brought you some donuts! Callie said you liked them, and I – "
"I'm really not in the mood, Mark," Arizona interrupted, while shutting the door. Mark shoved his foot in the door before she could completely close it, however; he winced as the door banged against his instep.
"I'm not going to let you do this."
"Do what, Mark? Mourn the death of my girlfriend? I think I'm entitled – "
"No, you know that's not what I meant. You just ran away from there today. People wanted to talk to you. Callie's family wanted to be with you."
"I don't care! I just couldn't, I couldn't, I can't…" Arizona struggled to find words to describe her current state as tears once again started running down her cheeks. Mark took this opportunity to step inside completely and immediately enveloped her body in his much larger one. They stood there for what seemed like hours, Arizona crying into Mark's muscular chest, Mark stroking her silky blonde hair. She had to admit that it was comforting, being completely encased in Mark's strong torso and arms.
Eventually Arizona stepped backwards and offered a small smile. "Thank you, Mark. I might take you up on that donut offer."
Mark smiled back and led her to the couch to sit. When he noticed the wreck that was her apartment, he gasped. "Jesus, what happened here?"
Arizona shrugged. Wasn't it obvious what happened?
"Okay, first of all, we're throwing these away," Mark said, referring to the cigarettes. "No one's going to want to kiss you with cigarette breath."
"Mark!" Arizona tried to shout, but it came out as a strangled whimper. "I don't want to kiss anyone else."
"She would want you to move on, Arizona."
"It's been five days, Mark. FIVE. You cannot come in here and tell me what she would want after five days." She spoke deliberately with a low voice, showing Mark that she would not budge on this issue.
Arizona flopped on the couch, utterly exhausted. She was so tired of crying, tired of putting on a brave face in public. She just wanted to sleep for days. Mark busied himself tidying up the apartment and grabbing them some plates and a bottle of wine.
"Why aren't you more upset?" Arizona asked quietly.
"What was that?" Mark asked as he headed to the couch.
"Why aren't you more upset? She was your best friend. You were her person or whatever."
"I am upset. I honestly don't know how the hell to keep going without her in my life, but I promised her. I promised her that if anything ever happened that I would take care of you."
"I don't need to be taken care of," Arizona shot back indignantly.
Mark raised his eyebrows and waved his arm around the apartment, gesturing to the mess she had created in her grief.
The two continued in silence, passing the wine bottle back and forth between them. Mark began to laugh to himself suddenly, breaking the eerie quiet. Arizona shot him a look, completely unable to fathom what the hell was funny at that moment.
"I remember when she came banging on my apartment door the night you kissed her in the bathroom at Joe's. She was so out of sorts, rambling about this perky, blonde, hot Peds surgeon who had had the audacity to kiss her the first time you guys had met. I honestly didn't have a clue what she was talking about, but she just couldn't figure out what to do. I'd never seen her so flustered over anyone, man or woman. I've always meant to congratulate you for that. That took some serious balls, Robbins!"
"Liquid courage," Arizona replied with a shy smile, recalling the events of that night. "It was almost involuntary, like I was having an out of body experience. I just knew I needed to put a smile on her miraculous face somehow. I never thought that just months later I would have fallen head over heels in love."
"She was something else, wasn't she?" Mark mused.
"She really was." Arizona shifted to lie down on the couch, so that her legs rested in Mark's lap.
"You made her really happy, you know that?"
"That's all I wanted to do for the rest of my life: make her happy." Instead of replying, Mark ran a soothing hand up and down Arizona's shin. The blonde closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch.
"You did, too," she said finally.
"What?"
"You made her really happy."
"Not like you did," Mark responded, his tone ever-so-slightly tinged with the thought of what could have been.
"We're not going to sit here arguing this point. She needed both of us," Arizona said with enough finality to make sure this argument could be put to bed.
"We're quite a team," Mark replied with an impish grin.
Arizona nodded and sank further into the plush couch, enjoying the simple comfort Mark was offering.
"Tell me another story," Arizona requested softly. "Tell me something about her that I never knew, and I'll do the same."
Mark thought for a moment, searching the depths of his mind for the perfect story.
"I bet she never told you about her underwear-dancing routine."
Arizona allowed a small smirk to form on her face. "She didn't have to; I've seen it on numerous occasions."
"No, no. This was one incident in particular. You knew she lived in the basement at Seattle Grace for a while?" Arizona nodded. "Well, one particular evening she was really dancing her heart out, not a care in the world, and guess who walked in?"
"Who?" Arizona asked anxiously, her curiosity definitely piqued.
"The Chief."
"No!" Arizona's eyes widened as she imagined the scene.
"Yes!" Mark replied in the same tone, mocking her.
"I would give anything to have seen Webber's face."
"God, me too," Mark readily agreed. They both smiled to themselves, lost in the memories. "Your turn."
"Ummm, oh, okay, I got one. Do you remember when we got that huge donation of toys and games to the Peds wing last Christmas?"
Mark wracked his brain for a couple seconds, before grinning. "I remember hearing about the mysterious donor and saying that I would love to get my hands on a woman like that. Come to think of it, you got oddly jealous when I said that." Mark's eyes widened. "That was Callie, wasn't it?"
Arizona nodded. "She didn't want me to find out, but I conned Webber into telling me."
"Those were some expensive games. She must have spent a fortune."
"She did. It was unbelievably generous. And the best part? She didn't even do it for me. She did it for the kids."
Arizona shut her eyes tightly as a renewed onslaught of tears fluttered across her eyelids. As one single tear streaked down her cheek, Mark sighed.
"Robbins, come here." He stretched out his arms welcomingly, and Arizona appreciatively sank into his embrace.
"I miss her, Mark. I miss her so much."
"I know, I do, too. But she'll always be here with us. Maybe I'm crazy, but when we were telling stories, it almost felt like I could feel her presence."
Arizona craned her neck to look up at Mark. She couldn't tell whether he was merely trying to placate her or whether he truly believed his words. Either way, she was eternally grateful.
It had been a long time since she had felt this vulnerable and defenseless, not since Tim died. She snuggled further into Mark's strong embrace, allowing herself to give in totally and completely and be comforted by him. Mark could never replace her dear brother, her Timothy, but he could be a close second.
Arizona let her eyes flutter shut, feeling the latent effects of her sleep deprivation begin to hit her in full force.
"Are we going to be friends?" she asked timidly.
"We are friends," Mark replied, squeezing her shoulder.
"No, I mean, are we going to stay…" She let out a sigh of frustration. "Callie was our only connection. We were only friends out of love for her…and even then, we fought. All the time. But I can't…I can't do this alone."
"You're not alone, Arizona," Mark said, using her first name for possibly the first time. "I'm here, I'll always be here."
Comforted by the knowledge that there would always be someone in her life who understood the pain and the love she felt and who could comprehend the loss of such an incredible human being, Arizona allowed herself to drift into a peaceful sleep for the first time since her Calliope had been taken away from her.