Summary: When nine-year-old Sofia asks her mothers to take her camping, Arizona is forced to revisit traumatic memories of the plane crash. Calzona.
Sofia was chattering enthusiastically as she helped her moms clear the table after dinner. Tonight had been her first Girl Scout meeting of the school year, and the nine year old could not be more excited about the adventures her Brownie troop had planned for the upcoming months. "AND at the end of the year, after we bridge into Juniors, we're going on our first real camping trip! Like actually in the woods and not just in someone's backyard!" Sofia squealed with joy, handing the plates she had cleared from the table to Callie, who then placed them in the sink for Arizona to wash. "Wow, that's sounds really cool!" Callie said, beaming down at her daughter. She was happy that her daughter was excited about camping and the outdoors, as she had been growing up. Arizona was also pleased that her daughter was enjoying Girl Scouts, but she cared much more about Sofia learning values like responsibility and respect for her country. These things were, of course, important to Callie as well, but for her, it was admittedly mostly about the camping.
"After the meeting, Courtney told me that her parents are going to take her camping next month to practice, and I thought maybe we could do that too?" Sofia looked up at her moms hopefully. Arizona muttered a noncommittal "Hmmm…" and continued watching dishes, but Callie leapt at the idea. "Of course we can! We're gonna have so much fun! Right Momma?" Arizona chuckled nervously to herself as she placed the dish she had just rinsed off into the dishwasher, "I'm not exactly a camping kind of girl, but you two will have so much fun!" she finally looked up at her daughter with a smile, but Sofia's face had dropped. "Why can't you come camping with us Momma?"
Arizona casually shook her head, "I don't do camping, Sofia. Your Mami knows this. I'm not exactly outdoors-y. You both will have much more fun without me." She returned to rinsing the dishes in the sink, but Sofia wasn't letting it go, "Come on, Momma! We won't have more fun without you! You have to come! Mami?" Sofia looked to Callie for back up, who nodded vigorously, "It will definitely be more fun with you along," she encouraged her wife, who simply continued doing the dishes, ignoring these demands. Not picking up on her wife's growing tension with these requests, Callie turned back to her daughter, "Just give her some time, I'm sure we can convince her eventually."
At that remark, Arizona set the plate she was rinsing down in the sink, with slightly more force than intended, "No, you won't convince me." She stated firmly. She glared at Callie, who was taken aback by the anger in her blue eyes. Softening her expression, she looked down at her daughter. "I'm sorry, Sofia, but the answer is no."
Sofia pouted, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, "You're no fun, Momma," she whined, before stomping out of the kitchen and into her room, slamming the door behind her.
Upon hearing the door to her daughter's bedroom close, Arizona turned her attention to Callie, clearly still angry, "What was that? Callie, we've talked about this. We have to be a united front. You can't side with Sofia over me like that." Callie put up her hands defensively, "Okay, the 'united front' thing is about discipline. This is different. It's not like we're never going to disagree about anything in front of our daughter."
Arizona scoffed in disbelief, "I made it clear that I didn't want to go camping, and you said that she could convince me! So you think I want our daughter nagging me for weeks to do something that I'm clearly uncomfortable doing?" She returned her focus to the dishes once more, scrubbing vigorously at some crust baked onto a pan.
But Callie still couldn't see her point, "Our daughter wants to go camping. It's not that big a deal, Arizona! I mean, I know you don't like it, but you really can't sleep on the ground in a tent for one night?"
"I said no. Why can't you just accept that?" Arizona said forcefully, scouring the pan even harder.
"Is this about the leg?" Callie asked, more cautiously this time, "Because honey, this is Sofia's first camping trip. We'll pick a really easy trail, I mean I'm sure you'll be fine—"
"It's not about the leg! Not everything is about the leg!" Arizona nearly shouted, almost forgetting that her daughter was in the next room as she stopped scrubbing and turned to face her wife.
"Then what is it Arizona? What? Because I don't get it! I don't get why you're so against it! It would be a fun family vacation and your daughter requested it and you're not even willing to consider it?" Callie shot back, matching her wife's volume. She knew that perhaps she was being unreasonable, that maybe they should pick up this argument another day after they'd both calmed down, but she was invested now and couldn't seem to stop. Arizona threw up her hands in frustration, "Damn it, Callie! Why can't you let this go?"
"Why are you being so selfish about this?" Callie threw back. She knew the second the words left her lips that she'd stepped over the line. Arizona closed her eyes and bit her lip. There was a long pause, and Callie knew that her wife was counting to ten in her head, like she did when she was really angry.
Arizona finally opened her eyes, looking at Callie coldly. She placed the sponge she had been cleaning with into her wife's hand, "You can finish the dishes." She snapped, before walking briskly back to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her as her daughter had done just a few minutes before.
Fifteen minutes later, Callie had finished the dishes and was reaching into the cabinet, grabbing a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. The time spent scraping the food off their pots and pans had helped her to cool off, and now, she was ready to call a truce. They both needed a break, and Callie hated going to bed angry.
Gently pushing the door to their room open, Callie slipped inside before closing it quietly behind her. "Arizona?" she called quietly, seeing her wife sitting on the edge of their bed, looking at the ground. "Look, I said some things, and I'm sorry, but I don't want to fight any more tonight…" she paused, looking up at her wife, who had yet to move from her spot on the bed. As she got closer, bringing her focus to Arizona, she noticed her wife's hands gripping the bed sheets tightly, the noticeable quiver running through her body, the ragged, uneven sounds of her breathing. Callie swiftly placed the wine and glasses on the bedside table before taking her seat next to her wife, tenderly rubbing a hand against her back. She'd seen enough of Arizona's panic attacks to know what they looked like.
"Hey, you're okay. Breathe. You are okay," Callie comforted, speaking slowly and calmly while continuing to rub slow circles into her back.
"I- I can't go camping. I can't," Arizona sputtered between shaky gasps, closing her eyes as she tried to control her rapid breathing. "I know," Callie responded gently, knowing that now was not the time to ask why, "I know. It's okay. Just breathe." They sat like this for awhile, Callie speaking calmly while Arizona attempted to ground herself. Eventually, Arizona's breathing slowed and her trembling stopped, though her body still felt tense, and her grip on the sheets remained firm.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Callie asked cautiously, not wanting to push her wife before she was ready. She waited patiently, watching Arizona collect her thoughts. Finally, after several moments, her wife began to speak.
"It's not that I don't want to go camping with you and Sofia. I mean, I know it's never been my favorite thing, but that's not it," she spoke softly, working to keep her breathing in check as she continued. "It's just that, I can barely watch the wild critters on Animal Planet without remembering them ripping Lexie's face off. I don't even want to think about sleeping in a tent with god knows what crawling just outside." Callie inhaled sharply, placing her hand on top of Arizona's as her wife continued, "And the stars," Arizona whispered, tears beginning to well up in her eyes, "I feel so pathetic, because stars are supposed to be beautiful and they are, I supposed, but I can barely think about them without wanting to throw up," she paused, closing her eyes as a tear rolled down her cheek, "When I imagine stars, all I can think about is being so, so far away. Being lost and hurt and freezing and terrified that no one was coming for us. Looking at my own bone as I coughed up blood. Feeling Mark start to slip away from me…"
Callie squeezed Arizona's hand while placing her other arm around her wife's shoulders, running her hand gently through Arizona's blonde hair and planting a kiss on top of her hand. She felt a wave of understanding wash over her, quickly followed by sadness and guilt. Why didn't I see this? Callie scolded herself harshly. She knew Arizona hated camping, but she hadn't even thought that her wife's hesitation might stem from the last time she was in the woods. It had been over five years since the plane crash, long enough for things to feel almost normal again. Arizona had mostly become accustomed to living as an amputee and her nightmares were now few and far between. Still, Callie knew that some lingering effects of the trauma would never completely fade. She was reminded of that in moments like this.
"I'm so sorry, Arizona. I didn't know," Callie said remorsefully, hating to think that she'd even partially contributed to her wife having to relive that horror, that she had been too absorbed in her own concerns to notice Arizona's distress. She felt like the selfish one now.
"No," Arizona said firmly. "I didn't tell you, so you couldn't have know. I know I need to tell you about these things but…"
"It's hard," Callie finished for her, gently running her hand up and down Arizona's arm as Arizona leaned into her, resting her head against her wife's shoulder, her muscles beginning to relax a little.
It was hard, and Callie knew that. It was hard for both of them. Over the years, though, they had slowly been learning to cope with this trauma that would always be a part of their lives. Piece by piece, Arizona shared with Callie some of the horrors she faced during those four days in the woods. And with time, Callie had learned to be more patient; to calmly listen to what Arizona could share with her and to graciously accept the knowledge that details would be missing. It wasn't easy for Callie, knowing that there were burdens that Arizona chose to carry alone.
Even sitting with her wife in this moment, more than five years after the crash, Callie ached as she thought back to memories she now viewed in a new light—how Arizona suddenly had too much paperwork to watch a movie with them that Halloween two years ago, when Sofia begged to watch the Nocturnal Animals Special on Animal Planet instead of It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown; how Arizona had made sure to schedule a surgery on the night of Sofia's stargazing class field trip. She hated thinking that Arizona hid her fear from her, had created excuses rather than letting Callie help her. But Callie had learned not to take it personally—sometimes, it was just too hard for Arizona to talk about these things. She knew that Arizona trusted her, even though there were things she couldn't always tell her.
"I suppose we should go talk to Sofia," Arizona said quietly, lifting her head to look Callie in the eyes, "I hate that I'm disappointing her. I know she doesn't understand why."
"Hey, hey," Callie responded instantly, taking Arizona's face gently in her hands, "She knows you love her. And you're right—Sofia and I will have a great time, and you do other things with her. You're the one who taught her how to sew her patches on her vest, god knows I didn't know how to do that." Arizona laughed at the memory, "I will never understand how you are able to sew human flesh, but the freaking brownie badges somehow are beyond your expertise." Callie rolled her eyes, "It's different, you know it's different!" She stated defensively, glad she had gotten Arizona to smile once more. "And you promised not to tell anyone at the hospital," she reminded her wife.
"And I haven't," Arizona stated reassuringly as she got to her feet, preparing to walk into her daughters room, "…yet," she added mischievously, giggling to herself as Callie stood to follow her from their bedroom, pretending she wasn't nervous about the ruthless teasing her colleagues would undoubtedly taunt her with if they knew of her sewing mishap.
Arizona knocked softly on Sofia's door, pausing a moment before slowly entering her daughter's room, Callie following closely behind her. Their daughter was sitting on her bed, holding her stuffed salamander, Sally, a scowl frozen on her face. She had Beezus and Ramona open on her lap but both her parents suspected that she had only picked it up for appearances when she heard her mother knock, as she appeared to be too busy maintaining her currently level of anger to distract with a book, which might actually calm her down.
As both her her mothers sat down on opposite sides of her bed, Sofia continued to stare at her book, turning a page as if she were too busy reading to even notice her mothers were there, but Callie and Arizona knew better. Gently, Arizona but a hand on her daughters leg in a comforting way. Sofia instantly pulled her leg away, but she did look up, glaring at Arizona, "What do you want?" she mumbled.
"Sofia, don't speak to your mother with that tone," Callie warned softly. At that Sofia scoffed, pulling her legs into her chest, "Why not? She's being selfish."
"Sofia!" Callie scolded, but her daughter just continued louder, "You said it! Don't be a hypocrite!" Sofia shouted—she had just learned the word "hypocrite" that week in school and was now using it any chance she got. Callie cringed, knowing her daughter was right. She regretted her words even more now, and hated that Sofia had heard her parents fighting.
"I did say it, but I didn't mean it. It was a hurtful thing to say and it's not true. I apologized to your mother and you should too," Callie stated, her voice compassionate yet firm. Sofia looked at her feet, "Sorry, Momma," she mumbled. Though still trying to hold onto her anger, tears of guilt had formed in Sofia's eyes. She knew her Momma wasn't selfish and didn't want to hurt her, even if she was mad at her. Arizona smiled kindly, "I forgive you." She placed a hand on her daughter's leg once more; this time, Sofia didn't pull away.
"Sof, sometimes I'm going to tell you no, and I need you to accept that, even if you don't understand why," Arizona continued carefully. Sofia sighed, "But why?" she asked sincerely, her eyes meeting her mother's for the first time this conversation. "Because I'm your mother. And because it's not nice to try to convince people to do things they don't want to do," Arizona elaborated calmly, "Do you understand?"
Sofia nodded, "I guess." She sort of did. She didn't want her Momma to think that she didn't respect her, but she was still kind of hurt that Arizona wouldn't go camping and wouldn't even tell her why.
Arizona nodded, satisfied with her daughter's answer, "I appreciate that." Sensing that her daughter was still hurt though, she took a deep breath, preparing herself, for the next part of the conversation, "Sofia, you know that I was in a plane crash when you were really little."
Sofia nodded; though she knew very little about the details, as she was too young to remember when it happened, her mothers had talked to her about the crash a couple of times. She remembered coming home from kindergarten, asking her moms if she had a father, because her class was making Father's Day cards and she didn't know who to make one for. Her parents had exchanged sad looks before sitting her down and telling her that she had a father, who loved her very much, but he died in a plane crash; that crash was also how her mother had lost her leg. She remembered last summer, before their family trip to Miami to see her grandparents, Mami had sat her down and explained to her that ever since that plane crash, her Momma got scared when riding on airplanes, so she had to be extra nice to her. Her Momma sat in the aisle with big headphones and her eyes closed the entire time. She had held Mami's hand the whole flight and ignored Sofia's pleas to look out the window at the fluffy clouds. At one point, the plane bumped up and down for a while, and her Momma started to cry. Sofia focused on the clouds outside the window; she hated seeing her Momma sad and scared.
Seeing confusion spread across her daughter's face, Arizona knew Sofia must be wondering why her mother was bringing this up. It was a tense subject, and one with apparently no connection here. She felt Callie reach across the bed and squeeze her hand, encouraging her to continue.
"When the plane crashed, we landed in the middle of the woods. There weren't people around for a long way. And while people at the hospital, who sent the plane knew we didn't make it to our destination, and were looking for us, it took them a long time to find us. So we were stranded out in the woods for four days," Arizona stated, her matter-of-fact tone a front for Sofia, hiding the emotion building in her chest. She squeezed Callie's hand tighter.
Sofia's eyes widened; she hadn't heard this part of the story yet. "Why did it take them so long to find you?" she asked, her voice indignant.
"Usually, there's something in the plane to send a signal to rescue people in a situation like this, so they could come find us, but in this case, that signal was broken, and there were a lot of places we could be," Arizona explained calmly, stealing a quick glance toward Callie. They both knew there was more the story—that Owen Hunt hadn't checked his messages all day, delaying the search and rescue team for probably twenty-four hours, crucial hours—but for now, this was enough.
Sofia's mind was racing, "What did you eat?" she asked, stuck somewhere between horrified and curious. Arizona took a deep breath and squeezed Callie's hand again before continuing, "We had some food and water on the plane, but it wasn't enough to last us all four days. Your Aunt Cristina was also on the plane, and was able to find us some edible plants, but we became really hungry and thirsty." She paused, looking over at Callie, her eyes asking her wife if she was sharing too much. After all, Sofia was only nine, and Arizona didn't want to scare her. There were more horrific details she was leaving out, of course—drinking jet fuel and urine, trying to eat a half cooked squirrel Cristina had managed to kill for them until the undercooked meat made her gag. Still, she worried she would scare the child. She wanted Sofia to be able to understand, but was it fair to burden her with this right now? Callie however, simply nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. These were things Sofia would have to know some day. She was old enough to handle what Arizona was telling her.
Sofia's eyes were wide, taking in the story her Momma was telling her. When she'd imagined the plane crash in the past, she pictured dozens of emergency medics immediately coming to her Momma's rescue, an ambulance rushing her into the hospital immediately. She had never imagined this. "Were you scared?" Sofia whispered, eyes locked on her Momma's.
Arizona nodded in affirmation, "I was terrified. It was so dark and cold at night. My leg really hurt, and your father was hurt really badly." Sofia looked away, knowing how the story ended. Her mother's leg had been amputated and her father was dead. Her eyes filled with tears, and when she finally looked up again, she saw that her Momma and Mami had tears in their eyes too. "I'm sorry," Sofia whispered. Arizona pulled her daughter into a hug, "Me too, bug. Me too."
They stayed like that for a moment. Callie continuing the squeeze Arizona's hand and placing her other hand on her daughter's head. When Sofia finally pulled away, Arizona reached out and held her daughter's face in her hands, "Sof, as much as I would love to go camping with you and your mom, the thought of going camping just scares me too much right now."
Sofia nodded, turning to Callie, "Maybe we shouldn't go camping either. I mean, what if we get lost or hurt and no one can find us?" Callie paused, considering how to address that question, but to her surprise, it was Arizona who answered.
"Bug, I don't want you to be scared to go camping. The woods can be dangerous, if you aren't prepared, but it can also be a lot of fun," Arizona supplied, running a hand through her daughter's hair as she leaned against her. Callie nodded, "We'll be prepared, Sof. Don't worry."
Sofia nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, but something was still confusing her, "But Momma, if it really isn't dangerous if we're prepared, why are you scared to go?" Arizona pondered that carefully; how could she explain PTSD to her nine-year-old child? This time, it was Callie who was prepared with an answer.
"Sometimes, when someone is really hurt or goes through something really scary, their brain can react to things that remind them of that painful or scary thing and make them feel scared again, even though it might not make sense logically," Callie explained patiently, looking toward her wife who smiled gratefully and continued for her, "Exactly. Sofia, I know that the camping doesn't have to be scary if you're prepared, but my body sees the dark and hears the animals, and it reminds me of the plane crash and makes me really scared." Sofia nodded against her Momma's chest, signifying her understanding, "So, does that mean you'll always be too scared to go camping?"
Arizona shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not. The first couple years after the crash, I was too scared to even get on a plane. But last year, I managed to fly all the way to Florida. I was scared, but I did it." That made Sofia smile; she remembered the plane ride with her Momma once more, the sadness over her Momma's pain not replaced, but pride at her bravery joined that sentiment. Maybe one day they could look at the clouds out the window together. "I love you, Momma," she murmured into her mother's chest.
Arizona returned her sentiment, "I love you too, bug." Pulling away, she stood up from her daughter's bed. "Why don't you put your pajamas on and brush your teeth? I can come back and tuck you in in about ten minutes?" Sofia nodded, heading to her drawer to get her PJs as her mothers left her room.
As they headed down the hall to their room, Callie pulled Arizona against her, "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Arizona closed her eyes, leaning against her wife as they headed into their bedroom, "I love you too, Calliope, " she whispered, looking up at her wife. Walking over to their nightstand, she noticed the wine sitting on their nightstand, "Oh, I could totally go for some wine right about now. It's been quite a night."
Callie laughed as she walked over and poured them both a glass; it had, indeed, been quite a night.
