Title: Broken Hallelujah

Tagline: "Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah"

Summary: It's not the first time that she has woken up drenched in sweat, heart racing, scared for her life. She is almost positive it won't be her last.

Pairing: Callie/Arizona

Spoilers: 6X24-7x01

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are 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.

Author's Note: This is kinda lengthy, but I have this new interest with P.T.S.D and after the opener where we got like, small amount of Callie/Arizona, I decided to combine the two! I really loved getting inside of Callie's head with this fic, so I'm hoping that guys enjoy it as well. This is probably one of my favorite pieces for many different reasons, so let me know what you are thinking!

"Oh baby I've been here before

Seen this room and I've walked this floor

You know I used to live alone before I knew you

And I've seen your flag on the marble arch

And love is not a victory march

It's cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah"

Hallelujah- Cover by Kate Voegele

It has become more of a ritual to her than an inconvenience as of late. The terrible nightmares. The rash movement of her body as she moves side to side trying to bring herself out of the life threatening slumber. The pounding heart beat that beats a tattoo under her breast. The breath that hitches in her throat and dances from her lips in a wheezy, gasping breaths. The blurry vision, the hot blood pulsing through her veins, her trembling body, the aching memories that haunt her with every blink of her long eyelashes, the reality that is almost impossible to except. So tonight, she most certainly is not surprised when the same haunting dream captures her in the same delusional web of fear and insecurity.

She can still hear the same deafening silence, the same whimpering cries of her ex-girlfriend as she lies, huddled over her fearful patient. She can still smell the hot gun in his hands as he fumbles with his finger upon the trigger, pointing it directly at those blond bouncy curls that she loves to twist her fingers in. She can still hear his ghostly voice, stuttering about how they shot him, she can still see the distraught, crazy look in his eyes, and hear his apologize tremble from his lips. She can still feel her heart drop in her stomach when his eyes meet with those baby blues, the way he cocks his gun.

Except, the nightmare preys on her insecurity, on her fear and her guilt. The nightmare continues to unfold the scene unlike the way it occurred in reality. Instead of turning to leave, Gary stands frozen in the doorway, cocking his head to the side with a sickening chuckle, he fires the gun. It all happens in slow motion, the bullet meets the arch of Arizona's back, the blood splattering from her in a moan in pain. She screams out for her, her name dancing upon her lips like the most perfect kind of poison, pulling her deeper into the fabricated reality. The Peds surgeon gasps for a breath before her strength gives way, her knees buckle and her body falls onto the filed floor, a puddle of blood appearing beneath her. It only takes Dream Callie a matter of moments to fall beside of her, cradle her body in her arms and promise her that everything will be okay, that help is on the way. In the nightmare, a pale Arizona looks up at her with those same ghostly blue eyes, whispers an I'm sorry and I love you before her body falls limp in her arms. Screaming and crying in disbelief, Callie holds her lover close to her body, praying that her tears have some type of magical powers that can bring her lover back to her.

It is always at this point in which her body demands that she wake up and tonight is no exception to this rule. Breath lost somewhere within her body, she jolts awake, a hard gasp echoing down her hollow throat. Sitting up in her bed, her curvy body is soaked with cold drenching sweat , her heart racing wildly within her chest, every powerful beat felt with a sickening churn of her stomach. Gasping, she struggles to catch the breath that the trauma has taken away from her, but, truthfully, she has not been able to catch that breath since mass murder at the hospital that day. Twisting her fingers in the mess of raven black hair, she licks her dry, cracked lips, glancing over at the slumbering body in the bed beside of her, her stomach rising and falling softly and carefully. It is the reassuring reality that she needs to see, the reality that manages to fail her every time those chestnut brown eyes flutter close for the evening.

She stands, pushing the tangled mess of sheets off her body and instantly she shivers inwardly when her bare feet meet the cold ice known as hardwood. Sighing in despair, she closes her eyes for a moment, the pounding of her head in perfect rhythm of her heart, her stomach churns in a painful twist and her knees tremble beneath her. It is as if her entire world is spinning in circles far too quickly around her, like a ride and everything is only becoming blurred images and she wishes with everything that is left in her that it would slow down. She wishes that she could learn to stand on her own feet and find beauty in life again. Like before. But like before is gone, this she knows far too well.

With a sigh, her fingers fumble over the sheets and blankets, wrapping them carefully around the sleeping body of the blond Peds surgeon. Tucking her in and away from the world, even if only for a few more hours, only until the morning light breaks and responsibility and reality calls her from the only safe haven she has. Trembling, she brushes a curl away from Arizona's flawless, peaceful face, gazing at her ever so lovely. She is the hope. The peace in the storm. She is the morning sun and the breath in her lungs. She is the beat in her heart and the tears in her eyes. She is her purpose. Her reason. Her future. She can not bear the thought of losing her, not that day, not now, not ever and it is that fear, those insecurities that keep her from sleeping tonight and every other night before.

The moment passes as the moonlight dances upon her lovely face and she turns to leave her peacefully. Stumbling through the darkness, she finds her way to the bathroom, refusing to turn on the light. She is afraid of the shadows the light makes, the shadows that are already haunting her with every loud noise and unexpected visitors. She inhales deeply, the hard breath aching down her raw throat as she spreads her palms around the white porcelain sink, staring blankly, at the reflection the oval mirror reflects back to her.

The woman staring back at her is a stranger to her now, someone that she has only met in passing. She thought she had met her once after her divorce was finalized but that woman is nothing like the one standing before her now. This woman is defeated, distraught, broken; she is lost in the darkness that aches her bones and is unable to be fixed, unable to be saved when the demons that are chasing her lives within. The woman that is staring back at her has lines upon her face, lines that tell a story of where her life began and where it almost ended, every tragedy a chapter in between the covers. Her eyes are ghostly, faded and pained, not the same warm, loving eyes that found love that night. Her lips are chapped and bruised, instead of pursed and smiling. In fact, smiling is something that she hasn't done to be sincere in so long she isn't sure she remembers how anymore.

Squinting her eyes, she groans, displeased with the reflection that is staring back at her as she turns on the faucet, the cool water splashing into her cupped hands. Standing in the darkness, it all comes flooding back to her now, every moment, every fear, every aching breath. It all comes back in waves, colliding into the shore, shaking her to the core of everything that she has ever known.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I don't deserve this, okay? I treated you with nothing but love and respect..." But she interrupts her.

"No, no. See that's the thing. You think you have but you haven't!" snaps Callie with a swift shake of her head. She wonders when it got to be this bad, when they went from whispering soft I love you's to one another to barely speaking. She wonders when their meetings in the hallway stopped being a moment for secret kisses and warm smiles and started being a place for a screaming match like the one they are having right now.

"I'm sure it feels great to act like I'm the bad guy but that is the biggest pile of you know what that I have ever heard," Arizona replies poison in her voice as she rolls those beautiful blue eyes that had once melted her.

"I have spent the last month trying to convince myself that I didn't need kids to be happy. Really trying. Giving lectures to myself. Saying it out loud to you and to Mark and turning myself inside out to want what you wanted. Then I stopped and I asked myself, did you ever try? To imagine what it would be like to change for me? Because I don't think you did. What you did was dismiss my dream. My dream. Which says to me that you don't give a rats ass if I'm happy. I never understood squat about you and now that I do, I don't like it,"

No, no. She grinds her teeth down hard as she clutches the white porcelain beneath her. It wasn't like that, it wasn't like that at all. She didn't mean that, she was just upset and hurt and she would give anything to take it back, anything to make it right again, to keep those hurtful words from escaping her lips and reflecting in Arizona's watery eyes.

"When are you going to forgive me for not being a good enough lesbian for you?" asks Callie.

"When you do something to convince me that you are falling in love with me and not with being in love. When you do something to convince me that I am different than George O'Malley, Erica Hahn, Mark Sloan, the girl at the coffee cart. You have a huge heart and I love that about you. But I don't trust you, why would I?"

How could she have failed her like that? How could she have not proven to her that she is different from George and Erica and Mark? The pounding in her head gets worse as the memories jumble together in her brain, every last one like a painful blow to the chest, every last one like a ice cold hand reaching in and ripping her heart out. Her stomach churns, her knees buckle as the cold sweat coats her body yet again as she closes her eyes tightly, trying desperately to stop the impossible pounding, aching memories from overtaking her.

Her dark eyes look up from the squirming child who is now clutching painfully at her hand and find Arizona's piercing blue staring down at her, a warm smile upon her lips. For a moment, she manages to forget about the gunman, about their break up, and smiles back at her, losing herself at that familiar sensation. Arizona's lips part to say something, something that she is sure that she wants to hear when the distraught man appears in the doorway, his cold gun tight within his hands. Her eyes widen, her mouth drops, her heart stops as Arizona turns around, finding the gun staring back at her.

"There are only children here," She mumbles, hovering her body over Ruby as she begins to break down, the salty tears falling down her cheeks. Callie's eyes stay fixated upon the gun, her lips quivering in fear, her heart slowing in her chest as she desperately tries to think of what the best thing is to do.

"Calliope? Are you okay?" A sleepy Arizona mumbles, stepping in to the bathroom. But it falls upon Callie's deaf ears, for she is far too lost in the haunting memory, too lost in the darkness to accept her reality. Gripping tightly to the porcelain sink, her entire body begins to shake as a strangled cry leaves her lips.

"They shot me," The man mumbles in surprise that they dare do such a thing. She has to protect Arizona, she just has to, which is why she slowly stands, much to her ex-girlfriend's surprise and makes her way to the man.

"Mr...ummm..."

"Calliope?" Arizona's hand advances up her back in a loving gesture.

"Clark. Gary Clark," Fearfully, Callie watches the man as she grabs the bandages from the tray behind Arizona, placing herself between the gun and the amazing Peds surgeon. She slowly approaches the man, her eyes staring at the upright gun in his hand, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Swallowing hard, Callie shakes her head as she tries to snap out of the haunting memory. Gun. Gun. Gary. Dead doctors. Dead nurses. Shot. Bleeding. Arizona. Beautiful Arizona. Love. She loves her. Death. She can't. Gun. Gun.

"Mr. Clark. H-here are some bandages. Press them to the wound, it'll stop the bleeding," His eyes meet hers as he extends his hand outward to her, the gun in his palm. Trembling, she blinks her eyes, licking her lips. This man was on a rampage in their hospital, shooting every one, his next victim could very well be her or worse, the beautiful woman behind her. Debating how much she trusts him, she slowly extends her hand toward him, her breath hitching in her throat as...

She is snapped from the memory when she finds a pair of fearful blue eyes staring into hers. It is in that moment she realizes exactly what has happened. Lost in her memories, lost in the darkness, she failed to understand the reality around her, she failed to see that it was Arizona who had pecked her on the shoulder and asked her if she was okay. She had failed to answer, but instead had her hard against the wall, her hand pinning her shoulder against the beige bathroom wall, her fist drawn in the air behind her. It was not Gary, it was not the gun, it was Arizona. Arizona. Arizona.

"C-Callie? Are you in there? Come back to me. Please," Arizona's voice calls out to her, shaking, terrified. This had been the woman who took a chance on her in Joe's bathroom that night, who had fought for her when nobody else would have, who put her entire world back together when it began to fall apart. She had been the one to stand up to her very Catholic father and tell him that she loved his daughter and protected the things she loved. She had been the very first one to say I love you, the first to make her truly happy, make her feel safe and protected; she is the one that she is in love with. And now, she is the one that she is pinning against the wall, just inches away from hitting. Not Gary.

"Arizona," Trembling her name falls from her lips like the most perfect dose of poison. Ghostly blue eyes find her dark russet brown, those warm pink lips part as a breath escapes from the blond. It all suddenly snaps inside of her, the reality painfully aware to her now as her fist falls away at her side.

"Calliope?" questions Arizona, her eyes pleading with tears and worry. She can hear it in her voice, how afraid she is of her, how terrified, how worried. How could she let this happen? How could she lose herself so completely that she almost hurt the person that she loved?

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I can't.. I can't... I am so sorry. God, I am so fucking sorry. I can't believe that I..I..I have to... I have to get out of here," Callie exclaims, tripping over her words as she releases her grip on Arizona's shoulder. Pushing her way past the blond, she storms out of the bathroom, stumbling around the apartment, she desperately searches for her keys.

"Keys. Keys. Damn it, where did I put my keys?" Callie exclaims, twisting her fingers in her mess of raven black curls. The tears are cascading down her cheeks, the gasping cries leaving her lips in a hollow, rushed sound as her body trembles beneath her. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She never thought she would be the one to have it, she, the one who faces her problems head on now but the scene in the bathroom just proved her wrong. It's here now. The break down. The mess. The breaking. And she refuses to let Arizona see it.

"Hey," Arizona calls out, placing her hand upon Callie's shoulder lovingly and the taller woman jumps, startled, losing her breath. The Peds surgeon winces, her heart breaking a little deeper in her chest as she fights away the tears that are in her eyes, forcing herself to be strong, for Calliope. Swallowing back the cry in her throat, she forces her eyes to find the most beautiful pair of russet brown, her hands lacing behind Callie's neck.

"Calliope. Calliope. Look at me. Look at me," Arizona instructs and the Latina does as she is instructed, their eyes colliding together in a passionate, fiery gaze that causes everything else to fall away around them. Suddenly it is not about the PTSD, it is not about the scene that just unfolded in the bathroom, it is not about fear or denial, it is simply Callie and Arizona. Arizona and Callie. Simplicity. Comfort. Love.

"It's over. It's over now. He's gone. He isn't coming back. The hospital is safe now. Derek is okay. It's okay now. You are here, you are okay. I'm okay. We're together. We're in love. It's over now. It's over," Arizona repeats, her voice soft and comforting, just the way that Callie remembers it. Her lips tremble as the cry threatens to escape her but it falls silent, instead she only stares into those piercing blue eyes and finds her old, unbroken reflection staring back at her with the utmost love.

"Arizona... I didn't mean..." Her voice trails off as she swallows hard, "If I had known that it was you I..."

"I know," Arizona smiles that playful, dimple revealing smile that steals Calliope's heart every single time she sees it, it makes her stomach flip every single time she kisses it. Arizona is not broken, she is not hurt like her mind and inner demons so desperately want her to believe. She is okay, she is in front of her, loving her, unconditionally and passionately.

"You would never intentionally hurt me, I know that. I know. It's okay. What happened in there, it's okay. I'm okay. I forgive you. I'll always forgive you. Shh, it's okay," Arizona whispers, brushing Callie's cheek softly with her thumb as she places a soft kiss upon her lips before gesturing her to sit. She does, and she soon sits beside of her, their eyes still fixated upon one another as they take in the moment, the silence.

"I...I don't know what's... I'm broken, Arizona. I am broken and you can't... fix me this time. I don't think you can. I can't sleep, I keep having these reoccurring nightmares and I see you laying there and you're bleeding and... I can't save you. I can't stop replaying what happened that day in my mind, over and over. I can't catch my breath or make sense of it, I can't feel or think and I... I almost hurt you. You. The woman that I am so in love with, the woman that I need and I... God, I am so very, very sorry," Callie sniffles in a cry and Arizona bites on her bottom lip with a sad smile upon her face.

"You have Post Traumatic Disorder. I've seen it in my dad and... Owen. What... what happened to you, Calliope... it was scary. It was terrifyingly scary and brave. You could have died... you..." Arizona's voice trails off as she swallows hard, forcing the tears back in her eyes, "you've been trying so hard to be okay for every one. For me. For Meredith. For Cristina. You have been trying so hard that you almost convinced yourself that you were until the night comes and there's silence. Haunting silence. And then it comes to life. The fear. The demons. But I'm here now and we'll get through this together."

"If you don't want to stay..."

"I should have protected you that day, Calliope. I stood there and told your father that I protect the things I love and when it came around, I just stood there and did nothing. I'm not leaving you. Not now. Not ever. We are going to get through this, together. I'm going to be with you every single day. We'll go to counseling and I'll hold you at night and... we'll get through this. It's okay. You're okay now. We are okay," Arizona promises with a swift nod of her head, her hand slipping through Calliope's hair as the Latina pushes herself closer to the blond, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

"Please don't leave me. I can't... I can't do this on my own," Callie whispers, her voice raspy.

"I'm not going anywhere, no matter how many times you freak out on me, or tell me that you don't want me here. I'm not leaving, not ever, ever again. Face it, you are stuck with me, Torres. Until the day my heart stops beating," Arizona smiles and Callie cries a laugh, before her lips find Arizona's in a hot, heavy kiss. Pulling away, the tears break away, sliding down her cheeks effortlessly as Arizona smiles sadly at her, pulling into her lap as she runs her fingers through her hair.

"It's okay. It's all going to be okay. I'm fine, you're fine. It's over now. Shh. I'll protect you. It's going to be just fine," Arizona whispers, wrapping her body as tight as humanly possible around Calliope's, breathing her in, softly, slowly. And for a moment, Calliope sighs, she doesn't see blurred images anymore, for a moment her word is racing in fast, unpredictable spins. For a moment, it all slows down to a peaceful, calming stop as she catches her breath. For a moment, all she can see is the beauty that is Arizona; the beauty that is their healing love.

Reviews are always welcome.