AN:Here's a fun little one shot I attempted to write for your entertainment. Love you all!
Wake up pretty lady.
Callie's lips twitched, the sleep-ridden muscles straining to form a proper smile as she stirred, pressing her heels into the mattress. "That's a new one," she mumbled hoarsely. Her heavily lidded eyes fluttered open and she blinked away the fog that shrouded her vision, her gaze falling upon an empty bedside. A pout pushed her lower lip forward and she sighed, running a hand along Arizona's used, but vacant side of the bed. The wrinkled sheets tickled the sensitive palm of Callie's hand, and residual warmth that the blonde had left her with seeped in through her pores. She inhaled deeply, filtering out the scents of their bedroom in search of something distinctly Arizona, stopping to hold it in when she caught it – vanilla, the sweetness that exuded from Arizona's dimples had manifested in her scent long ago. It was strong, sweet, addicting. And apparently, the only thing Arizona had left behind when she left for work earlier that morning.
Slumber had always clung to Callie, pushing her waking thoughts aside and playing a siren's song just for her. It had often left the surgeon in a panic on the mornings when she had woken up alone, especially for the first few months after the shooting. At night she'd crawl into bed knowing that Arizona's shift started before hers, and in the morning, when she woke up to an empty bed, the room would endure her overwhelming fear. Sheets ripped from the bed, phones accidentally locked from her fumbling fingers, lamps broken from clumsy and flailing limbs. The terror had subsided, but her tendency to forget her final thoughts remained. Arizona teased her for it on more than one occasion, calling it a superpower. Callie Torres wasn't one to compartmentalize. Her thoughts, her feelings would transfer from home to work and back around again. Sleep was the only thing that would turn it off, and the blonde found it more than amusing.
A groan passed through her pursed lips and she slowly raised her shoulders from the bed, propping herself up with her hands, elbows locked from hyperextension. She squeezed her shoulder blades together and threw her head back, looking at the ceiling. "Coffee." She blurted out, reminding herself of her reason for sitting up. Without another word, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She winced; almost embarrassed by the popping sounds her stiff joints were making and proceeded into the kitchen to make herself a pot of coffee. That's right, a whole pot. Of decaf. Callie's hand found its way to the hardened bump that had set up camp within her abdomen, rubbing it gently as she remembered her dietary restrictions. Her chocolate hues drifted down to her hand and the belly that housed her future child. A refraction of light caught her vision, the type of flash made from light bouncing off of polished jewelry. Her ring. Callie couldn't remember how long she'd been wearing, but every day felt like the first.
The coffee pot whirred, and then hummed, into a slow silence. The Latina padded across the tiled kitchen floor to grab a mug. Her foot caught on something, and she stumbled forward, gasping as she watched the edge of the counter approaching her face at an alarming speed. "Oh!" She hollered, moving her hands in front of her to grip the counter. She pushed herself up using a motion similar to a push up, and took a steadying breath. As she exhaled, a sharp pain pierced her chest and radiated down to her abdomen. She clutched her stomach with both hands and stumbled back into the bedroom to find her phone. Arizona had to know; she'd know what to do.
"Callie?"
"Arizona," she breathed. "The baby…my stomach, it hurts."
"Hold on, Calliope. Okay? Can you hold on for me?"
"Uh, sure." Callie replied, confused as to why Arizona was reacting this way.
"Callie. It hurts so much."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't do this without you, so please just come back to me."
"Arizona, I'm right here – I…"
"Please, Callie."
Callie opened her mouth to speak, concerned that there was an emergency she hadn't been paged about.
"Please," Arizona echoed – but Callie couldn't hear her.
Static had overpowered the resolve in the blonde's telephonic voice, leaving Callie with no company but the eerie hum of white noise. Her thumb jabbed the "End Call" button and she tossed the phone on the bed. The pain in her abdomen had subsided; her worry for both Arizona and whomever she needed help working on was monopolizing her senses, emotional and physical. With more speed than she knew she had, Callie got dressed and into her car – committing at least two moving violations just to get across the street and to the hospital as quickly as possible.
Callie burst through the doors of the PEDS wing and looked around. The hospital appeared to be strangely short staffed today, and she didn't recognize any of the nurses who were assembled at the nurse's station. Assuming that they were floaters from pathology, she ignored them and decided to take a look around the floor in search of Arizona before burdening the nurses with her inquiries. She'd made the mistake of interrupting the dermatology nurses when they were having a conversation on the hazards of sun exposure paired with the usage broad-spectrum antibiotics, and she was certain she'd never shake the icy chill of their glares. The rooms that were readily observable appeared to be bereft of a cute pediatric surgeon, so she made the short trek across the hall and down a small sublet where the more private rooms were located.
Come on, Callie!
"I'm coming!" She whirled around to face her impatient fiancé, snapping her mouth shut as she found herself faced with an empty hallway. Callie raised a hand to her head and combed her fingers through her somewhat unruly mane. "…and apparently I'm also going crazy." Shaking her head in disbelief, she mentally blamed the baby for her lapse in sanity. Pregnancy brain wasn't a myth. It was very, very real and very, very terrifying. This was her first personal run in with the hormonal phenomenon, and she was beginning to understand why so many men were terrified of their pregnant wives. Hearing voices, tripping on nothing whatsoever, it was probably a lot to deal with.
Navigating her way back into the PEDS wing's main floor, Callie coerced herself into getting back on track and finding Arizona. The blonde had seemed desperate for Callie's company in the OR, or wherever she was, and she couldn't leave her hanging. There was no choice but to ask the nurses. The surgeon cleared her throat and squared her shoulders as she approached the group of chattering women. As she stopped behind one of the shorter ones, their exchange became hushed, their attention immediately shifting to the pregnant doctor.
"Do you need help, ma'am?"
"Um…" Callie was taken aback by the nurse ma'aming her. "I'm Callie Torres, a surgeon here... I'm looking for Dr. Robbins. Head of peds."
"Oh, right? I mean…right. Dr. Robbins is down in NICU right now. I'm sure you could find her there, Doctor…Torres."
"Thanks," she nodded, turning on her heel and making her way out of the pediatric wing.
Calliope!
The brunette stumbled forward, the citation of her name stirring her into action, despite the fact that there was nowhere to go. The elevator was a confined space, and she was the solitary rider. Against her better judgment, she spun in a circle, investigating each corner of the compartment, still half expecting to see her dimpled beauty beaming, or scowling at her. At this point, Callie would have been satisfied just to see Arizona – to talk her off of whatever ledge she seemed to be perched on during their strange phone call. She brought her hand to her head, pressing her thumb and forefingers against her temples as the elevator settled on the floor of the NICU. The doors were pulled open as a dull dinging sound indicated a safe arrival.
Callie crossed the threshold and into the hallway, casting a glance over her shoulder just in case her initial inspection wasn't up to par. It was. With an exasperated sigh, she turned left, her eyes scanning the wall for a sign that would direct her to the NICU. Ortho cases were never associated with the neonatal ICU, so she had no idea how to navigate the floor without some assistance. Turning once again, following the signs on the wall, Callie couldn't help but feel as though she possessed some kind of connection with the NICU. There was a sense of urgency that washed over her with each falling step. It transcended her need to assist Arizona in the operating room. The need snaked its way into her, threatening to constrict her insides should she fall into a slower pace. The pain that had pierced her chest like a bolt cutting through her body's strongest muscle returned, and she stumbled to a stop, bracing herself on a window ledge to one of the patient rooms. Callie closed her eyes and struggled to breathe, but nothing came. Something was inside her mouth, sliding down her throat and plugging her airway.
She looked up, compelled once again by some unknown force and fixed her eyes upon a single bassinet. It rocked gently from the movement of its inhabitant, a caramel skinned little girl. Callie's hand reached up and pressed against the glass, her palm leaving a print against the newly polished surface. She raked her nails down the windowpane and blinked away the tears that were forcing themselves out from behind her glistening eyes.
CALLIO-
Callie turned around, her hand cutting through the air, from the window to her stomach. Which was…flatter, somehow. The hallway lights flickered; her eyes struggled to fix on a silhouette just beyond the corridor. "Arizona," she sighed with relief, blinking in attempt to force her vision to adjust…but when they opened, the shadow was gone.
"Doctor Robbins…some of the families of the patients are complaining about the noise from this room."
A nurse stared at Arizona Robbins, pity dripping from each word as she reluctantly scolded the surgeon.
"Oh, Kayla. I'm sorry." Arizona wiped a tear off of her cheek with the back of her hand. "I just…I thought I saw her lips twitch when I told her to wake up." Her bottom lip quivered and she turned around to run her eyes down Callie's unconscious form. "And when I said her name, her head moved. Just a – just a little bit but it was something, you know? She even shivered when I slid a ring over her finger."
The nurse took a step into the room and closed the door, leaning against it. "I know," she agreed, sympathetic sadness rolling off of her.
"I have to try something. I have to keep doing this. I did this to her. I asked her to marry me and a truck came out of nowhere. And I've been talking to her. The books always say - talking might help stimulate brain function. And I know that volume has nothing to do with it but I swear the louder I got the more she moved. I could feel it. She's just below the surface."
Kayla craned her neck to peek out the window of the room, and quickly pulled the privacy curtain over, shielding her, Arizona, and Callie from anyone passing by. "Then how about you try again?" She reached back and pushed in the door's lock. "As many times as you need, Dr. Robbins."
CALLIOPE.
AN: I don't know what this was. Hopefully, it was moderately entertaining to you folks. If not, I'll stick to what I know from now on; roller derby and lesbians. Thanks for reading!