Something Lost
Authors Note: I haven't written anything for what feels like years. It could have possibly been a year or so, so I'm asking for forgiveness for my fleeting use of tenses, and because I don't really have a beta, all mistakes are my own. I know next to nothing about amputees and prosthetics and the story isn't going to really revolve around it that much once it gets going but I just thought it would be a good idea to level the playing field. All characters belong to Shonda and ABC, except for Henry and Logan…. They're mine, and I love them both. xxMagically Challenged xx
Chapter One – Reality of Hope
The beat is powerful, it can take hold of you in a split second, control you in a way that makes you unbreakable, indestructible. She likes the feeling it gives her, enjoys the high more than she knows she should. But she's grateful for every second she spends entranced because she knows the hardest thing to do is live without the puppet strings and try take steps unaided, to walk through life alone.
The notes echo around the oversized room, bouncing off the polished hardwood and lifting her into the air with effortless grace. It's easy, letting the music take over. It wasn't always this way, no. For a long time it was hard, and filled with a struggle that made her scream and cry and even want to give up but every morning she woke, that ache in her heart was so much more overpowering than the ache in her legs and she found herself back here. Her hand lifted in an elegant grace, soft morning light sneaking through the tangle of bare branches in the woodland outside of the studio, streaming through the full sized windows, and illuminating her in morning magnificence.
She had owned the studio for so many years now that it had become a deep part of her life. After finishing a highly successful career on Broadway, dancing her way into the top productions New York and the world had to offer, Calliope Torres had decided to call it a day. To dance for enjoyment, rather than for recognition. For a long time dance had been her passion, then it became a job, then an obligation and with time it started to become something she resented. That time in her life had scared her more than she cared to admit, openly because dance wasn't just something she could do, it was all she could do. Then something happened that caused her to appreciate what she had, because for eight solid months, she didn't feel the breath-taking wonder of a leap. She didn't feel each fall and lift in the music she heard, instead of allowing the music to take over, and losing control she had to concentrate on the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other.
Accidents are exactly that, and they can come in all different categories. When Callies car hit an icy patch on a dark and unusually busy December night and she was catapulted into a large heavy goods vehicle that left her 21st birthday present in shreds on a local highway she was convinced her life, her world was over. For months after she struggled with the repercussions of the accident, and the therapy she required was intense and most days, it was heart-breaking. She suffered alone, mostly because it was much easier to push people away than it was to let them in and admit defeat. In a way her inability to do this, was her saving grace, because it was her stubbornness and independent attitude that led her back to the dance floor. If she was asked about it now, she claimed it was a happy accident and that everything happened for a reason but that it was what we did after the storm that showed our true valour as people. Callie, she chose to dance again…. She chose to find her passion when all was lost, she chose to fight and as her bare feet hit the wooden floor in a whisper and turned her in a spin that looked effortless it was hard to believe she was dancing on a prosthetic.
The lull of the music signalled the end of the song and the beep of the intercom signalled the beginning of another working day. Making her way over to the desk and taking a glance at the security screen she saw Henry the coordinator from the local hospitals therapy support group with some of her regular class members and a few new faces. Buzzing them in she ushered herself around the room, picking up her hooded sweater that she had discarded shortly after she had arrived. Despite the October chill she still found that dancing was the quickest way to stay warm, and like an old friend it had welcomed her insomnia at 3am, with its soft silky promise of endless possibility and the warmth of a hug that would last as long as the record kept spinning.
'Morning Miss Callie..' the voices filled the room, echoing loudly between the soft lullaby she played during their warm up session. Wheelchairs were taken to the corner of the room, and Callie made her way over to where a teenage boy stood, his hands in his pockets and eyes downcast, rocking back and forth slowly from heel to toe in time with the music coming from the oversized headphones that rested on his ears.
'Good Morning Logan' she whispered, her hand outstretched towards him, palm upwards and as he raised his head her slipped his hand into hers and back out again so quickly if you blinked you would miss it. A smile found the corners of her mouth and lifted them towards the heavens at this contact. Logan had been coming to her class every Wednesday for the past two years, and this was the first time he had acknowledged Callies greeting independently. She was making a difference and that was enough. She knew that sometimes the most meaningful of interactions don't come easily, they take time, time to prepare yourself to fully appreciate what is being offered in that moment. Trust, acceptance, acknowledgment, thanks. It was all there in that fleeting movement, and that was what Callie had come to realise, was the point of everything she had worked for these past seven years.
Making her way around the room, offering greetings and directing people towards the floor she found herself drawn to a new addition. Sat in her wheelchair, at the far side of the room a look on her face Callie knew all too well.
'Hi there, my name is Callie…' she began, noticing how the blondes gaze didn't shift from the floor. Giving it moment to assess the situation, before she began again she noticed the rest of the class had made their way to the floor, ready for class to begin. Taking a deep breath she began again 'Hi there… my name is Callie, and I'm going to be your instructor today'
'Really? That's what you're going with?' the words fell from the blondes mouth with a venom Callie wasn't accustomed to, and as quick as the blonde had spoken Callie found her own voice returning the anger.
'Well I've no need to ask your name, you're obviously rude and clearly you don't want to be here'.
Her feet firmly in place she rocked back and forth, hands clenched at her sides as she tried to regain her patience, she knew coming to therapy was hard for everyone, especially that first class. She still had a large amount of residual anger in those beginning weeks of therapy, but it was easy to forget that as she had put that behind her long ago.
'what ever gave you that idea?' the blonde quizzed, sarcasm dripping from each word as she began to shift in her chair a sign of clear agitation. Callie waited for some form of eye contact but it never came and so she shrugged her shoulders and began to glance around the room while continuing this back and forth.
'I don't know,…' she began, her lips falling into a frown that showed much more than the sadness she felt watching this woman in front of her, it also showed the empathy she had for her but the blonde didn't notice. '… probably the fact that you've given up already… you'd much rather stay in your chair than give this a chance right?. Blue eyes shot a glance upwards and caught Callie off guard.
'You don't know anything about me'
Finally. A smile began to weave its magic over the Latinas lips but she pushed it back down before the other woman noticed. She wasn't an entirely lost cause, there was something there in those eyes. Yeah there was a lot of pain, Callie could see pools of uncried tears in her eyes, oceans and galaxies that held more tales than her one hour class had time to rewrite, or at least edit. She sighed, raising her hand to play with a loose tendril of black hair that had fallen from her tieback and she stepped a little closer to the chair.
'You haven't given me a chance to get to know you, but I call them how I see them and if you're wasting my time by being here, and wasting a place for someone who wants to come and give it a shot then I think…' her almost rant being interrupted once again by the venom in the blondes rebuttal.
'Yeah because you have people queuing up to ridicule themselves here'
That was it, the last straw, Callie knew that anger and pain were old buddies and that sometimes in order to get to the calm you must weather the storm but this was one pity party she wasn't going to accommodate. Not when she felt so strongly about the blonde-haired woman's targets. Her hands flew to her hips, head shaking as she closed her eyes, bit her tongue momentarily and counted to ten. Glancing at the blonde and then over her shoulder at the people that filled the dance floor, each one smiling and giggling as they began to get themselves ready. A small smile of gratitude filled her face, and she felt pity creep into her heart, pity that this person was so blinded by her anger that she was failing to see what was in front of her.
'actually, no one here ridicules themselves…' she stated, turning on her heels and lifting a hand towards where Logan stood, headphones removed and turning perfect pirouettes in time to the music, while the rest of the class watched on in awe of him. '… every person on that dance floor is a fighter…'
'Really? Because I don't see any boxing gloves, just a bunch of imaginary tutus and people stuck for a way to fill their day'.
'Well maybe you should look again, because I see a floor full of hope and possibility and yeah there are no boxing gloves, but our scars are visible…' Callie sighed, shaking her head as she began to back away slowly, realising her job was done and there was nothing more she could do.
'Well go do some…'healing' ' the blonde lifted her gaze as she raised her hands to provide the sarcastic air quotes, her voice getting louder the further away the Latina walked '…. Instead of wasting your time here. I can't do any of this, in case you haven't noticed I'm missing a limb'.
Callie stopped in her tracks and shook her head in disbelief, using your disability and your lack of something was such a cop out, it was an excuse that she didn't allow in her studio and she was done dealing with the blonde. But then she saw it, a tear rolling down her cheek, a shooting star making a break from the galaxy it once roamed and blazing a trail into a new unknown atmosphere. She stepped back towards the woman slowly, as she spoke 'I think you're missing more than that, and I can't promise you that you'll find what you're looking for here but I can promise I will try to help you find it, whatever it is…'
'That's your problem, I'm not trying to find anything… I'm done looking, what I lost, I can't get back… no amount of prancing around like an idiot is going to help me get my life back' the blonde slammed her hands down on the armrests of her chair and began to shake her head, her shoulder length tendrils falling over her face. The perfect cover-up.
'Then give up, don't fight… sit here and stare at that empty space below your knee and keep being angry …'
'You don't know what I've been through… I can't do this, I can't…' the blonde shook her head and Callie knew that the sky was falling. She lowered herself to a crouching position and placed her hands on her knees, head ducking as she tries for the first time to see underneath the curtain of gold that's shielding the rest of the room from the meteor shower that's rolling down the blondes face. She opens her mouth, and its barely a whisper but she hope it's enough.
'You don't know what I've been through, and we both don't know what anyone else here has been through but the moment you come through that door the playing field levels a little… you keep saying you can't, but the reality is you can do anything if you put your mind to it…'
'spare me the lecture…'
With one last sigh Callie straightens up, brushes the invisible creases out of the lycra leggings she's wearing and pulls her t-shirt down in an act of composure before nodding in momentary defeat 'Then spare me the attitude, at least while you are here. Look, stay in your chair, get up and stretch, personally that's up to you but you never know you might enjoy it… '
She walks away and heads over towards the rest of the class who have been stretching themselves out patiently, each one aware of the difficulty of being the new member of the class, each one aware of the sensitivity required in this situation having experienced it themselves. Callie politely orders them to find an open space in the room and begins to run through the set list of stretches, a watchful eye passing over each member of the class and occasionally stealing glances at the blonde who remained stoic in the corner of the room. She can feel her stare when she takes Logan to the centre of the room as the class begins to wind down, and the begin to partner each other in a routine she has helped him perfect for the past few weeks. His strong hands lifting her with ease, his own leaps reaching heights she once knew in single bounds and now longed to reach once again. They move complimentary to the dulcet tones emanating from the stereo, Callie allowing her eyes to close as she falls into turns with the grace of a raindrop circling its way down the stem of the first daffodil in springtime. Suddenly she is lost in the music and even though she knows it's almost quitting time she allows herself another few minutes to let go.
As her feet come to a stop and her hands slowly fall to her sides she glances up at the clock, a few people have made their way over to their chairs, others stand in awe at the barre, their jaws open wide at the graceful movement of the Latina. She nods in appreciation and then announces the class is over and as she does she could swear she saw slight disappointment make a fleeting appearance on the pallid cheeks of her observer.
The porter walks over towards the blonde who is still seated in her chair and tips his hat at her while greeting her with a smile, 'You ready to go Miss Robins?'
Unable to turn her head away from the sight before her she replies without eye contact 'My ride is picking me up here, I can make my own way out thanks Henry' she is truly grateful, in the past few weeks the only person she has been able to tolerate is the older gentleman and she thinks it's because his pebbledash hair and greying stubble remind her of her grandfather. She glances at him quickly, and seals her thanks with a nod of her head. Lifting one hand to tuck her hair behind her ears her eyes unable to focus before
'She's wonderful isn't she?' he speaks and she knows his tone instantly, admiration and awe, a wash of relief fills her as she realises that she is not the only one this Latina has weaved her magic on '…She used to dance on Broadway you know, before the accident'.
For a moment this last statement goes unheard, but as it slowly travelled through her ears and was processed she realises there's something different about each step the other woman takes. A hop in her step, a light stiffness that doesn't show immediately but under scrutiny is a lot more obvious and then her breath falls from her as her eyes follow the curves of the Latinas body, the perfect curve of her hips and down her toned legs until she arrives at the cause of curiosity. She feels a sharp pain in her chest, and a slow unravelling in her stomach as she sucks in some fresh air.
'Why are you telling me this?' she asks, her words faltering as they fall from her mouth in an sympathetic tone that aches to whisper her apologies to the still dancing figure in front of her. She turns her gaze to the man standing beside her, who can't seem to avert his eyes from the sight before them either.
'I'm telling you, so you know she's being genuine when she wants to help you, she doesn't get paid for these classes. She opens her space up to us for free and teaches us because she's been there… she's been lost and in need of some stability, and she didn't have a group like this, she had no one and now look at her' he smiles as Callie begins to move around the room once more, but this time not in a swift musical motion but in more of a stiff, fight through the pain walk towards her music centre and then allowing herself to begin a decent to the floor where she begins to rub at her calves, all the while humming to herself.
The blonde watches her with an intense curiosity, she had been too caught up in her own anger she had failed to realise that Callie was one of the fighters she had been talking about, she danced around the room effortlessly with the grace of a perfectly abled person and yet at the end of her left leg, the daylight found its reflection in the prosthetic she wore. Feeling humbled and a little ashamed at her earlier attitude she couldn't hide the smile when she opened her mouth to speak 'Yeah… I can't stop'
'I'll see you tomorrow Miss Robbins' Henry tipped his hat towards the blonde and began to make his way out of the studio, waving to the Latina from across the room, and as she watched her return the mans' gesture she wondered exactly what had happened to Callie, what her story was and how she had arrived at this point in life. She wasn't sure she would ever know, but there was a burning curiosity inside of her that longed to solve itself. She wasn't sure if it was knowing that Callie had really been in her position and could relate, or whether it was the magic she possessed in her leaps and bounds that caused Arizonas resolve to weaken but she felt a little anger leaving her with each passing second and being replaced by a voice telling her she had nothing to lose.
There began a fire in the blonde that she knew wouldn't be extinguished as easily as it had begun, and so she waited, and when the Callie glanced her way one final time she lifted her gaze to meet chocolate brown pools and offered her a smile she had buried deep inside, filed away in the drawer marked happiness. A heartfelt, genuine smile that made her stomach fill with butterflies and her heart fill with the warmth of possibility. Only when Callie returned the smile and began to approach her did Arizona feel something else, it began in the tingle of her toes, and radiated all over body so much so that she swore if she raised a palm to the daylight you would see the wonders of the universe glistening there in her palm, she hadn't felt this for a long time, and yet there it was in all its glory…the dark-haired, caramel skinned reality of hope.