May 2010

Derek Shepherd was going to die.

That was the only thought running through Gary Clark's mind as he methodically steered his vehicle through traffic, double-fisting the wheel so hard his knuckles cracked and split. There was no trace of humanity left in what was once a bright and vibrant human being; he was nothing more than a warm shell, hollow in the centre save for a few organs and a steel flask. Empty of all thought, feeling or emotion, stuck in a perpetual state of darkness since his wife of forty years was taken away before her time.

He merged with a hard jerk, causing a Jeep Patriot to swerve from his path and an outburst of horns and angry gestures. They fell on deaf ears - Gary was somewhere outside of reality. The only obstacle between him and his target was time, and for Shepherd it was about to run out.

Five miles.

He was not a man of religion; he didn't live his life by the devout faith his wife had shared with her parents. He was, however, a man of justice, a man of his word, and - more importantly - a man with nothing left to lose. Alison's murderer was going to meet his maker and then Gary would join her in the afterlife, wherever that may be. His last willing act would ensure that Shepherd never destroyed another family again.

Four miles.

He reached for the breast of his jacket, ignoring the false heartbeat concealed beneath a 9mm, and produced a flask instead. It shamed him to turn back to the drink after all these years but today he needed the sense of security only alcohol could provide. Two decades of sobriety eluded him the day his wife passed away and, as far as he was concerned, a man was not a man unless something like this gave him pause. He drank until he was numb and the fear no longer held any sway.

Three miles.

A looming intersection transitioned from green to amber. Traffic slowed. Gary compressed the brake after a lifetime of habit, only for it to occur to him that he had nothing left to protect. There was no precious cargo in the passenger seat to negate any risk. He had made peace with his decision long ago and he wanted it over with.

The SUV swerved around the lone car ahead of him and Gary hit the accelerator. He broke into the intersection as a cargo trailer roared through at fifty miles an hour.

Four tons of metal twisted its way through the door, smashing bones and severing his spinal cord. His skull connected with the window, his brain hemorrhaged, and it was over before it ever began. By some small mercy, he never felt anything, heard anything, nor did he see it coming.

Blocks away, an incoming trauma set the Emergency Room in motion. Surgeons were dispatched, yellow gowns were passed out, residents and interns hung back until the ambulance arrived. Had he been conscious, the irony would not have been lost on Gary. The very people he was about to pull the trigger on were the ones attempting to save his life.

None of that made any difference. In the end, Gary Clark died with murder in his heart and a loaded gun in his pocket, two miles short of his final destination.

#*#*#*#*#*#**

Meredith Grey V/O: A single moment can change everything. Some random act of kindness, of violence, of love or lust, can affect our lives in the most dramatic of ways. A butterfly flaps its wings and halfway across the world a typhoon sets off an irrevocable chain of events. It's a catalyst for chaos and the fallout can be far reaching and more intricate than we could ever imagine. Eighteen people could get shot; most of them could die, if that butterfly simply chooses to get up and move.

So what happens when it spreads its wings but never leaves the ground? Would we even know the difference? Are things 'meant to be', is the balance restored, or would it change everything as we never knew it?

#*#*#*#*#*#**

"Fifty-nine year old male, severe blunt trauma, DOA," Reed Adamson called out as Dr. Torres stepped into the trauma room. "We've been trying to get him back for half an hour."

One quick look around and Callie knew they were well into the formality part of CPR. None of the equipment showed signs of life. This ignited Callie's already fragile fuse.

"Why am I here?" she snapped against her better judgment. Her day was shit and watching people die was not high on her list of priorities, not when a spare office and a ton of paperwork provided an escape from voluntary human contact. If everything went according to plan, that spare office would become her cave where she could hoard endless cups of coffee and ignore anyone who came knocking. Unfortunately they had to clear the ER before she could barricade herself inside.

She picked up the patient's clipboard with a sense of trepidation. DOA meant there was nothing left for her to do. It made her feel like the Grim Reaper, even though he was already dead and she was simply there to point out the obvious. It was cruel, but he was taking up valuable space and they needed to move things along.

Callie did try to remind herself that it wasn't Adamson's fault she was in a crappy mood today. No, that honor went solely to Arizona Robbins. There was no need to bite the heads off of the new transfers and earn herself a reputation like Mark or Alex. This merger had put a strain on everyone over the course of several months.

"Dr. Bailey is busy clearing other beds, we wanted to confirm before calling it," Reed puffed in between chest compressions. She switched places with an intern and stepped around the gurney toward Dr. Torres. "She told us to keep trying, but that was like fifteen minutes ago and we're out of options. He's done."

It's fitting, Callie thought when she looked at him, she seemed to be the one calling 'time of death' on a lot of things these days.

Through the window into the ER bay, she could see Arizona talking to a patient's parents at bed four, chatting away like she didn't have a care in the world. Callie had yet to see Arizona looking like she had just ended a fifteen-month relationship. It was all smiles and friendly greetings, acting like nothing was different, nothing was wrong, which really grated her cheese. All she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry in her cereal, which made her feel ridiculous by comparison. Maybe their relationship simply hadn't meant as much to Arizona as it had to her.

That thought really didn't improve her mood any.

"Time of death, 11:57 a.m.," Callie stated. The team ceased all CPR. "Has anyone called his family yet?"

"Paramedics gave me his wallet on arrival," a nurse replied. She handed over a worn piece of leather and a funny look came over her face. "He also had a gun on him."

"What?" Callie scanned the room for it, startled.

"It's locked up. The cops are coming for it later."

Guns gave Callie the heebee geebees. She shook her head and mumbled something about American problems while searching for a piece of ID. The license photo was a definite match. She cast a sad look at the man on the table. "Sorry, Mr. Clark. Looks like today just wasn't your lucky day."

They pulled a sheet over his face and Callie moved on to the next patient with a pulse.

#*#*

July 2010

"You're leaving?"

Arizona made zero effort to hide her devastation. With the way the last few months had been going, Teddy might as well be transferring to Neptune. When she received a cryptically vague page to an on-call room, she planned on teasing her about the history of these places and the perils of such a bold move. Now, everything remotely funny was wiped from her mind. Teddy was going back to Iraq.

"I'm sorry," Teddy sighed as she steered Arizona to the bunk. Guilt was eating away at her conscience and Arizona's big puppy dog eyes weren't helping. "This re-enlistment package is too hard to pass up. I'd be overseeing a whole new facility and making a real difference in training local physicians. I think I need to go."

"What about Owen?" Arizona didn't give two shakes about Hunt, she just wanted some reason for Teddy to stay, selfishly or not.

"Owen has Cristina," Teddy said, "and that whole thing is...there's nothing left for me in Seattle. I need a fresh start. No more holding on."

The mattress sank beneath Arizona's weight. "But...you have me," she said weakly.

"Oh, sweetie." Teddy reached for her hands and held them in a firm grip. "There's a shortage of doctors overseas. I don't need to be the one to tell you that."

Arizona felt an all too familiar pang resonate through her chest. Some days she still wondered what might have happened if Tim had been travelling with a medic that day. "Yeah," she whispered, wishing, not for the first time, that Teddy could have been there when her brother died. It was morbid and unrealistic, but maybe it could have made a difference. Teddy would save a lot of lives going back to the Army Medical Corps; Arizona respected the decision even if it crushed her spirits.

"You're a good woman, Teddy Altman," she relented. A shaky smile was the best she could manage with her eyes welling up. "I'm going to miss the crap out of you."

Rather than let herself cry - that would come soon enough - Teddy pulled Arizona into a fierce hug. "You're a tough cookie," she whispered against her ear. "This thing with Torres, you'll meet a new girl and forget it ever happened. There are plenty of gay fish in the rainbow sea. You're a great catch."

Forgetting about Callie was never going to happen and they both knew it, but Arizona let it slide. There was no point in harping on how much she missed her ex-girlfriend two months after the fact; Teddy had heard it all a dozen times over. She would just have to deal with it on her own from now on.

Losing both her best friend and her girlfriend in the span of a few short months was more difficult than Arizona cared to admit. In a city of half a million people, things were starting to feel incredibly lonely.

"You be careful," she chided Teddy, pulling back and sticking a menacing finger in her face. "Or else I'll totally come out there and kick your ass, got it?" The tough girl act was somewhat negated by a tear slipping loose.

Teddy smiled and tugged her back into a hug. "Deal."

#*#*

August 2010

"Dr. Hahn, thank you for coming on such short notice."

Erica and Webber shook hands. A short conversation ensued.

The exchange was muffled but Callie saw it all through the boardroom window. Given the choice of either hyperventilating or throwing up, she told her anxiety to cool it and not embarrass herself in a room full of her colleagues.

Or in front of her ex-girlfriend, who was apparently here. Right now. In this building.

Erica entered on the heels of Webber without so much as glancing in her direction. The meeting began with an introduction of the new (and recurrent) Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery before moving on to regular business. Callie barely processed a word out of Webber's mouth, she was too busy deciding who not to look at first: Erica or Arizona. The awkwardness seemed to be never-ending. Arizona knew who Hahn was, though whether Erica had a clue was up for interpretation. It was one of those moments when Callie would have paid someone to pull the fire alarm.

Across the table and sitting as far from Callie as she could manage, Arizona watched her ex-girlfriend exchange brief smiles with her ex-girlfriend, all the while a knot forming in her stomach.

Of all the reasons to miss Teddy, this was suddenly slotting in at the top of her list.

#*#*

October 2010

No matter how many times Arizona's thumb struck the lighter, the spark refused to catch. She shivered in the autumn breeze, a cigarette perched between her lips and strands of hair swirling around her shoulders, muttering some choice words about shoddy manufacturing.

It was a disgusting habit, she was well aware of that, and up until now she hadn't smoked in almost four months. But seeing Callie with that woman - that arrogant, no-personality, jerk of a woman who didn't deserve a person like Callie in her life-

Well, she'd earned the right to smoke. Just this once.

Arizona had been stuck in meetings all day and shaken so many hands that she needed to step away just to catch her breath. The Chief had been over the moon about her Carter-Madison Grant win, talking great rapport for the hospital as though the award had something to do with him in the first place. She had submitted her work six months before even coming to Seattle but if he wanted to take credit for it, she didn't care enough to stop him. There were bigger issues on her mind.

She really missed Teddy. In times like these, she needed her best friend to not be halfway around the world in a war zone with few means of communication - especially when she knew there was a confrontation coming in the next few hours that she could use a good pep talk for. Arizona had been getting congratulations from staff members all day, which meant it was only a matter of time before Callie found out from someone else.

Going to Malawi had been her dream for as long as she could remember. Somewhere back in medical school she had been introduced to the idea during a two month practicum at a clinic in Belize. One of the other doctors had family just across the Zambian border and a little research into the developing world's medical crisis had led Arizona to Mangochi. It was an amazing, incredible, magical opportunity, and at one point all she wanted to do with her life.

And then Callie happened.

Watching Callie grow closer to someone who wasn't Arizona was torturous. Malawi could provide an escape from the daily reminder of what she had lost - though it also meant that she might never get to see Callie again, period. Three years was a long time. While that wasn't really what Arizona wanted for them, she wouldn't have to bear witness to her ex moving on. Arizona didn't think she was a big enough person to handle that with any sort of grace. The pros and cons had occupied her mind for the better part of twenty-four hours now and it was difficult to tell which scenario sucked less.

No, that was a lie. Watching Callie and Erica flirt was definitely worse. Apparently Callie had forgotten all about the way Erica had walked out on her years ago, as had Chief Webber when he re-hired her. The two of them were starting to look...chummy. It rubbed her the wrong way.

The worst thing was seeing how Callie smiled at Hahn when she thought no one was watching. Not to label herself a stalker, but Arizona was always watching, she couldn't help it. Whenever those two laughed, there was a sparkle in Callie's expressive, drop-dead gorgeous eyes. Once upon a time, that look was reserved for her alone. She tried to justify a hundred different reasons why they couldn't end up together, why Callie and Erica were none of her business, and not once did it make her feel anything other than miserable.

Even so, Arizona was a rational person and she knew their biggest issue would remain a sticking point. Callie wanted kids, which was her right and something she deserved, Arizona just didn't think she could be the one to give that to her. Especially now - it wasn't like she could move to Mangochi and have a family to take care of. There were still things she wanted to do with her life that kids just didn't factor into, or at least they hadn't before she met Callie.

There were definitely times when she wondered if she'd made a giant mistake. Arizona was never one to pine or hold onto the past when it came to relationships, but then she'd never been with someone she'd loved as much as she loved Callie before. Arizona just couldn't seem to shake free of her. It was exhausting trying to pretend that she was okay all the time.

Maybe this grant was a blessing in disguise. It was a chance for a fresh start somewhere far away from here, a chance to finally move on. It had worked for Teddy, maybe it would work for her too.

The access door squeaked open behind Arizona but she made no move to turn around. More than likely it was someone waiting for a helicopter to come in, which meant that she'd have to give up her attempt to smoke in private and book it downstairs before she got in the way. She flicked the lighter again, hoping to get in a few puffs before she made her escape. This time it flickered to life.

It was Callie who emerged onto the rooftop, propping the door open with her arm as her stomach rolled around in nervous somersaults. Arizona was the person she was looking for, she just hated feeling so awkward around her all the time. It was such an unnatural reaction. The air was sucked out of her lungs whenever they were in close proximity.

Avoiding Arizona for most of the morning had made her even more anxious, however, so there wasn't much of a choice left other than to rip off the bandaid. Sooner or later they would have to talk. Callie had only just learned that they had less time to do so than she thought.

There were a finite number of hideouts Arizona had secured over the years and Callie found her standing at the edge of the helipad, exactly where she had known to look. Somehow it was comforting that her habits hadn't changed since their relationship ended in May. She studied Arizona's silhouette in silence as the other woman basked in an orange and purple sunset, looking absolutely stunning and making Callie's heart ache all over again. The admiration came to a screeching halt upon noticing the abhorrent object between Arizona's fingers.

Callie sighed as her ex lifted the cigarette to her lips. "You're smoking again?" she asked, stepping outside. "What happened?"

Arizona froze long enough for the flame to die out. "Nothing," she said after a delay, turning to offer Callie a shaky smile. She removed the cigarette and fiddled with the lighter. "I was just…thinking. About stuff. You know how that goes."

Callie knew that Arizona only smoked when she was stressed. "Yeah, stuff can be a bitch." She slipped her hands into her lab coat and took a few tentative steps forward.

Somehow what was supposed to be a cause for celebration had put a damper on Arizona's day, accumulating in the moment when Callie walked through that door. Standing there with a world of space between them, she didn't feel ready for this yet.

She glanced at the unlit cancer stick and immediately stuffed it in the pocket of her scrub pants, the silver lighter slipping in alongside it. She felt guilty now that she was caught. "I thought you were in surgery with Sloan. Did you guys finish early?"

Arizona immediately cringing at how fake that sounded. Being reduced to small talk when the conversation used to flow so easily was awful. She couldn't help but think back to a time when no conversation was necessary at all; when they could just lie in bed together and she would trace her fingers along Callie's navel for hours. That made it impossible to turn around and face her head-on.

Callie fixed Arizona's back with a puzzled frown. The only time either of them had difficulties talking in the past was when they were sweaty and tangled in a pile of bed sheets, panting for air and basking in the afterglow. Right now Callie felt uncomfortable in her own skin. "Mark and I? Yeah, we finished a little while ago. Everything went fine."

Arizona stayed silent, deepening Callie's worry lines. "Bad day?" she prodded. Even if they weren't together anymore, she still felt like she had a right to care about Arizona, and she looked like she hadn't slept much the night before. Considering how the blonde usually woke at the crack of dawn as perky as could be, Callie knew something had to be up.

Arizona finally turned around. She had been counting on a little more time to figure out how she was going to tell Callie about the Carter-Madison award but apparently the universe had other ideas. "I got a call last night. It...threw me a little, that's all."

Callie politely lifted a brow. "Oh?"

Arizona gathered her thoughts. "Three years ago I applied for this huge grant to get funding for a free surgical clinic and today I found out it came through." A cold breeze kicked up and caused her to shiver. "I hadn't heard anything in so long that I just assumed it was a no-go. I guess I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by the whole thing, hence the smoking."

"I heard," Callie admitted. "That's why I was looking for you." She swallowed thickly and forced out the expected response. "It's really amazing, Arizona. Congratulations." She was positive that didn't come out very congratulatory when said out loud, but she was trying her best. It was increasingly difficult to keep the half-hearted smile plastered to her face when she knew the implications of the grant. It was a bittersweet pill to swallow.

Arizona's shy gaze dropped briefly to the ground. "Thank you. That means a lot, Calliope." She saw the other woman tense and wondered if she was still allowed to use her full name. That was another thing solely reserved for her in the past. To Arizona, she would always be Calliope.

"The clinic is a big deal," she added after a beat. "It's a really impoverished area and the money will help a lot of people. A lot of kids."

"Where?" Callie wasn't sure if she wanted the answer just yet. Cleveland? New York? Somewhere in Canada? Something told her that was wishful thinking. The only thing she knew was that it wasn't in Seattle.

Arizona took in a soft breath. "Malawi. Africa," she clarified. "I'm finishing out my surgical schedule for the week, then I'm done."

Shock wasn't a strong enough word to describe the plethora of emotions that went through Callie in that moment. All she could seem to do was nod as any sort of proper response escaped. She wanted to be happy for Arizona and celebrate such a huge, career-changing accomplishment, but fuck, Africa? She couldn't fathom living with the blonde half a world away, especially such a short time from now.

Of course, this wasn't about her. Logically, Callie knew that. She wasn't entitled to weigh in on the decision because it didn't affect her anymore - only it did, break-ups be damned. Arizona couldn't just leave the country, the freaking continent.

No real answer to that came, so she tried something else. "You're happy?" Callie finally asked. "This is something that you've always wanted, your dream?" In the end, wasn't that all that really mattered? Maybe knowing that would make it easier to stomach.

The lump in Arizona's throat grew. "Yeah. I mean…it was what I wanted. Once upon a time, anyway."

Callie pointed at the pocket Arizona had stuffed her cigarette into. "Then what's with the smoking?"

"It's just a lot, you know?" Arizona folded her arms across her middle and gravitating towards Callie. "Moving to another continent, one with a completely different culture and economy and way of life? It's kind of daunting. And the Peds unit here, I have so many patients that I don't just want to pass off to the next guy who gets hired. A lot of peds surgeons are horrible with children, you'd be surprised. I won't be around long enough to help the Chief find a replacement that I'm comfortable with." Arizona found herself spilling every garbled thought in her brain. Old habits died hard. "All of this is just so sudden. I feel like I'm spinning my tires trying to figure it out."

Callie could empathize. She was still having a hard time wrapping her head around it herself.

Another beat of silence passed, during which Arizona never broke eye contact. "And then there's–" She couldn't bring herself to say 'us'. That wasn't fair. They weren't together because they wanted different things; Arizona wasn't about to make it harder on both of them than it already was.

"There's…m-my friends, and everyone else here," she stuttered. "My whole life is in Seattle, so picking up and leaving just seems so surreal." Her expression fell. "I really thought I'd be here forever not too long ago."

Callie's heart dropped. 'Friends'. "Yeah. Karev is going to be lost without you," she said lamely.

"I think he'll manage." Arizona had to look away again.

A whirl of noise crashed around Callie's head and she couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. She had absolutely no idea how to process this without saying something stupid. Judging by Arizona's face, she was on the same page. A part of Callie wanted to beg her not to go, only she didn't.

The emotional reverie was interrupted by her pager. She looked down to check who it was and flushed as soon as the call display kicked in. Spectacular timing.

Arizona smiled ruefully. "Shouldn't you get that? I doubt Erica wants to be kept waiting."

It was really hard not to sound resentful. Hahn not only came back and took Arizona's best friend's job, she was also moving in on her territory, so to speak. Arizona realized that was a horrible, stupid way to think, because by no means was Callie her property, she just couldn't stand the thought of anyone else sleeping in her bed. Months of a poor attempt at being friends hadn't changed that.

If this whole conversation had proved anything to Arizona, it was that she needed to leave. She wasn't a big enough person to watch Callie be happy with someone who wasn't her. This was the best thing for both of them.

The elephant in the room grew in size and Callie's pager repeated itself seconds later. She grabbed it from her waistband and checked again.

911 incoming – all hands on deck

Callie puffed out a breath. " Crap. "

Arizona nodded towards the stairs, resignation taking hold. "It's okay," she said gently, "we can talk later. Go save some lives."

Although awkward, Callie didn't want to leave. This exchange with Arizona was the most they'd said to each other in months outside of an OR. Callie didn't want to let her leave town without at least attempting a real talk, maybe even some closure. She also wasn't ready to say what would most likely be a permanent goodbye.

Communicating the page's urgency to her legs was proving to be a difficult task. Instead she just stood there, staring wistfully at Arizona, wishing she knew what to say to make them both feel better.

"Arizona…"

Emitting a soft breath, Arizona dropped her defensive stance and walked over. She stood in front of Callie, memorizing the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"Take care of yourself, Calliope," Arizona whispered in her ear, brushing a hand across her arm before stepping around and heading for the door.

Arizona's kiss lingered warmly on her cheek as Callie remained rooted to the spot, listening to the footsteps grow farther away. She opened her mouth to speak but it was as if someone had paralyzed her vocal cords.

Something about this seemed too final. It nagged at her, like this was the last time she would lay eyes on Arizona if she didn't do something about it. Her heart began to race and she finally stumbled around, ready to call out, ready to ask her to wait for just one more minute, but her voice died before she could utter the words.

Arizona was already gone.