A/N- recently, it has come to my attention that I'm horrible at keeping up with things and thus have had all chapters of this fic typed up but never posted them. Good job, Michelle. So, as a little treat, I'm going to post them all now (and a special alternate ending that I otherwise never would have let see the light of day. It's so cheesy it should be on a pizza.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's. Or a llama for that matter..
Oh, and these are straight from my iPod. No editing. Sorry if they're horrible. Please don't burn your eyes out or anything, that would just be dramatic.
Callie flung a little green rubber ball against a sterilised blue wall, and caught it when it bounced back.
Bop bop, catch.
Bop bop, catch.
The sound echoed throughout the on-call room, which Callie had inhabited for the last hour or so.
Bop bop, catch.
She couldn't help but find the sound mildly soothing.
Part of her knew that this was just an avoidance tactic - Arizona Robbins, as reported by Mark Sloan, had not left her place outside Callie's door for two days.
Callie knew it was childish to avoid the conversation that they needed to have, but hey, Arizona was used to childish.
At least, that's what she told herself as she hid in the depths of the hospital.
Bop bop, catch.
Knock, knock.
"Torres? Open up!" Mark Sloan's deep voice boomed through the thin wood of the door.
"It's open, Mark!" Callie calls back, her voice thick with bottled up emotion.
She hears the door open and shut again, and feels Mark sit beside her on the floor. But she can't bring herself to look at him.
"You're a hot mess." he admits.
Bop bop, catch.
"Yeah, well, at least I'm still hot." she retorts.
"Barely." he scoffs, looking her up and down.
Bop bop, catch.
"What do you mean?"
"I've never seen you so miserable. And I've seen you miserable a handful of times."
Bop bop, catch.
"She hurt me."
"That might've been true... At first. But I think you're over that now, and you have been for a while. I think you're just doing this to hurt her. That isn't healthy, Cal. You can't keep dealing low blows back and forth and expect things to change. Chances are, she hurt just as much as you did when she left. As much as I don't like Blondie, I won't ignore that she's suffered enough. Go talk to her."
Bop bop, catch.
"I don't want to."
"You may not want to, but you need to. For everyone's sake."
He reaches over and snatched the ball out of Callie's fingers, forcing her to make eye contact with him.
"This thing," he says, holding the ball up between his thumb and pointer finger, "Is annoying. You can hear it all the way down in the pit."
Callie smiles a tiny bit.
"See? Marky can always make you feel better. Now go get your girl, Torres." he says, pushing himself up off the floor and pulling the door closed behind him.
Callie took a deep breath, inhaling all the fresh air Mark had let in with his departure.
If this was one of those movies Arizona liked to watch, she'd be sitting next to her in front of a roaring fire by now. She would've forgiven Arizona the first time she'd shown up on the doorstep.
Callie sighed and fiddled with her chewed-up nails.
If only this was a movie..
