I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me.
Please have snow and mistletoe,
And presents under the tree.
"Dr. Robbins, you must come quickly. There's a child from the village that needs your attention, how is it you say? State?"
A wry smile turned up her lips though her eyes were sad, "Stat. And I'll be right there, Aman. Have AJ prep the exam room for me."
"Of course, Dr. Robbins."
Just as suddenly as her new colleague had appeared in her doorway, he was gone again. She looked back out the window, trying to muster the will to care anymore. She knew it was a selfish thought and immediately chided herself for it. She loved her jobs and she loved the big prestigious award that she'd been granted.
She loved her life.
Except for the part where part of her life was missing.
With tears in her eyes, again, she lifted a red marker from her desk and crossed off the sixteenth day of the month. She knew that Callie would be decorating, putting those goddamn poinsettias in every single corner of the apartment.
"I don't have time for this," she muttered to herself, dropping the marker to the desk and heading out of her room, "I love my life. I love my life. I love my life," her voice faded as she found the clinic until the tears were streaming in full force down her cheeks.
Aman watched as she entered the clinic and looked over at AJ, "Again. Better go tell the parents so they don't think something is wrong."
AJ nodded and silently walked away to do what he was told.
Arizona settled against the back of the worn rocker, looking out at the empty expanse ahead of her. Her vision blurred slightly and she blinked a few times, cursing the deposits on the inside of her contacts from all the crying.
"Dr. Robbins?" Aman asked, his thick accent almost soothing in a low tone.
She looked up and smiled faintly, "Another patient, Aman?"
He shook his head and then gestured to the seat next to her, "I would like to sit with you."
"Of course. You know that you don't have to ask me," she chided. Everybody here was incredibly polite and soft spoken, the exact opposite of what she was used to.
Aman gazed out into the expanse before him, his heart swelling, "This is my home. The doctors here have brought life where there was once too much death. They have given hope when all there was is sorrow."
Arizona looked over at her new friend in reverence. She didn't speak because there were no words that she could say in response to something so incredibly deep. There was nothing that she could say to make herself feel better for wanting to be home instead of being there, making people's lives better.
"There have been a lot of changes because of the doctors here," he continued, "and the doctors change because of here. Some come and never leave. Some come and can't stay,"
Aman paused then, looking at Arizona with intense brown eyes, "You cannot stay."
"No, Aman, I can-"
"No," he said more firmly, "you cannot stay. You are half of a person here. Half of a heart. You are an amazing doctor, Dr. Robbins. Perhaps the best. But this is not where you belong."
She wanted to feel helpless or horrible, adamant in her denial of his words but if anything, she felt relieved. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she leaned back against the rocker and closed her eyes, "Thank you, Aman."
"You're welcome, Dr. Robbins."
The lights of the city were a stark contrast to the place she had called home for such a short time. Windows dressed in Christmas décor soothed her weary soul as she drove past them, making her way to the one place that she couldn't stop thinking about and the one woman she'd never stop wanting.
Christmas eve will find me,
Where the lovelight gleams.
I'll be home for Christmas,
if only in my dreams.