"Thanks for coming today Arizona. I know it means a lot to Callie for you to be here."
Arizona sits uncomfortably on the edge of the couch in her wife's therapist's office. She does not want to be here today. She only allowed herself to be dragged along after Callie literally begged her.
She's been great putting herself back together - well, not great, but she's managing. It's been hard. Really hard. How is she going to talk to a complete stranger about her life when she can only just now have a full conversation with Callie without any anger bubbling up?
Callie seems at ease here - she's sitting back on the couch, close enough to Arizona to touch her but respectfully keeping her distance at the same time. Arizona resents her for her tranquility. Her freedom. What Arizona wouldn't give to feel that way again, even if for a day.
Dr. Schmidt starts. "Arizona, something that Callie and I have been doing in her sessions is practicing vocalization. That is, feeling an emotion or a thought and then working out the best way to express it in a constructive way. I normally start patients out with vocalizing a memory."
"I'm not your patient," Arizona interjects.
"True, but you are an active participant in Callie's session today, and as an active participant, I'm going to ask you to do exactly that: participate."
Arizona glares at Dr. Schmidt. He's not letting her squirm away.
"Can you tell me about one of your favorite days?"
Arizona sighs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. So she's here, on the couch, but hell if she will be an active participant.
"I can, but I don't see the purpose." Arizona looks at Callie. Her wife's eyes beg her to comply with the doctor.
The Day Before
Arizona and Callie rip around the living room of their apartment, cleaning up Sofia's toys. Along with the lasagnas and flowers they've received from distant family, friend and coworkers after Mark's death, an onslaught of toys for Sofia also made it's way into their now cramped apartment.
A stuffed giraffe in Callie's hand waves around wildly as she throws her hands up in the air.
"I don't understand why you won't come with me."
Arizona tosses the cardboard building blocks into the bin a little more forcefully than necessary. "Uh, how about because it's not my appointment."
"You knew that when I started seeing Dr. Schmidt I would want you to eventually come with me."
"Honestly Callie, back when you started seeing Dr. Schmidt, I was so relieved to have you out of the house for an extra hour a day that I would have agreed to anything."
Ouch.
Callie freezes in the living room. Arizona keeps her back to Callie and closes her eyes, knowing the bluntness of her words hit Callie like ton of bricks. Arguing with a loud Callie Torres for hours is one thing - driving her to silence is another.
"Calle. Please understand. I am performing my first surgery literally the next day. Do you think I need to be spending my time sitting on a couch talking about my feelings, or should I be reviewing the case of the 4 year old girl whose bowel I will be operating on?"
"Arizona, we both know that you will not be reviewing the case because you can perform a bowel resection in your sleep. In actuality, you will be sitting on this couch. I'm asking you to come sit on another couch. With me. I really need to say some things to you."
"Then say them."
"Not like this. Not while we're at each other's throats cleaning up our daughter's grief toys."
"Callie."
"I need to know that you're hearing me when I talk to you. Please. Just once."
"Okay. Just once."
"Fine. Fine." Arizona looks to the ceiling, not daring to reach deep enough into her heart to risk any chance of saying something vulnerable. She just learned how to carry herself again. She's not willing to chance losing her small piece of mind to placate some man she doesn't even know, so she picks the first thing she thinks of. "The day I first knew I wanted to be a doctor."
"Tell me more."
Arizona stares down the therapist before continuing. "I was 11, and Tim was in the hospital for breaking his arm, again. My mom was fussing over him, which of course made me more nervous than I should have been. It was just a hairline break. One of the easiest ones to heal."
Arizona looks over to her personal ortho encyclopedia for confirmation. Callie nods her head.
"Anyway, my mom created such a sight that the orthopedic surgeon on call had to have a consult with her to calm her down."
Callie raises her eyebrows. "Your mom got the on call ortho surgeon to consult on a cast removal?"
Arizona nods her head. "Once you invoke the power of the United States Marine Corp, anything is possible. Trust me."
Dr. Schmidt chuckles softly. "I'd believe it."
"So the surgeon came in, right off a 10 hour emergency amputation for this guy in a skiing accident, and instead of being a giant grump like he was completely entitled to be, he was...magical. He reassured my mom. He made my brother laugh. He removed the cast himself, and he even let me help." Arizona lights up as she talks about Tim. "The first medical procedure I ever performed was on my brother. He just made me feel so safe, and I knew right then I wanted to give that feeling to other people when their kids were hurting."
"So it was an orthopedic surgeon who started it all."
Sparing a glance in her wife's direction, Arizona catches Callie beaming right at her.
"Yeah, it was."
Later that night
"Come here."
"Callie, no."
"Arizona, come here and let me talk to you."
"No! I'm upset and I want to pace but I can't pace because my freakin' leg hurts so much so I'm even more upset! Just leave me alone.
Callie stares at her wife hobbling around the room. She's come so far in the last months, both physically and mentally, all on her own. Just like she's always done. Callie forgets sometimes that underneath all of it, Arizona still needs help building her confidence up piece by piece, even if she would rather lose her other leg than admit to it.
"You never asked me what my favorite day was."
"What are you talking about?"
"That exercise today, with Dr. Schmidt. You never asked me what I talked about when he asked me about my favorite day."
"I'm a little preoccupied at the moment, Cal."
"Arizona."
"Fine Callie, what is your favorite day?"
"The first time I saw you holding our daughter."
Callie speaks quietly and firmly. Her eyes light up at the memory.
"With me being in the hospital for so long, I never got to watch you with her during those first weeks. I remember when we all came home for our first night in the apartment, and I went to help Mark put some of Sofia's things in his place. When I walked back in, you were rocking her before putting her down to sleep. Just...holding her."
Callie takes a step toward Arizona, and for the first time in a long time, Arizona doesn't automatically pull back.
"I'd been so afraid to let anyone else breathe on her, let alone touch her. Even with Mark I was hovering the whole time. But with you...I just watched you. Your hands were so strong and so steady."
Arizona hangs her head. Callie gathers Arizona's hands in her own, holding them close to her chest.
"Arizona, these are those same hands. These hands that have performed a million surgeries. They saved our baby."
"It still doesn't feel like they're the same." Her voice comes out in a small whimper.
"You lost a leg. I'm an orthopedic surgeon, and I still can't fully comprehend the loss you feel."
Arizona finally looks back up at her wife.
"But what I do know is that I trust these hands more than anything in my life. Tomorrow will be scary, and there may be road bumps in there, but it's you Arizona. You can do anything."
Arizona nods her head at Callie's praise. It's taken her a long time to even hear what her wife says, and an even longer time to start to trust her words again, but at this moment, she believes the sincerity in her wife's voice. She doesn't even question in.
She nods to their intertwined hands on Callie's chest. "If it's okay, I'd like to use these for something other than surgery right now."
Arizona leans forward, resting both hands on the sides of her wife's face, as Callie smiles into their kiss. There may be hope for them yet.