Author's Note: Hey! Here's Callie's long-awaited backstory. You all were so excited for it, and I hope it isn't anticlimactic! But on the bright side, you all won't hate me for making you wait any longer. :) Please keep the reviews coming! And feel free to share your thoughts on keeping this at T or bumping it up to an M rating. Also, to the reviewer who asked if this will be a Mark-hating story, absolutely not! I really love Mark Sloan, and even though Arizona may not be his biggest fan, I fully intend on having his friendship with Callie resume in good time, stronger than ever. Happy reading!


"I'm ready," Callie stated, determinedly. "I'm going to tell you everything."

XXX

Just as Callie was about to tell Arizona what she'd been building up the courage to say, the blonde's phone chimed. It was Addison, of course.

Not to worry you, but I may have inadvertently upset Callie a little. I just wanted to know if you've seen her. She won't answer her phone and she isn't in her hotel room. But she's an adult and I'm not worried for her safety or anything, so you shouldn't be either. I just wanted to know if you know where she is. Also, I hear your date went well! -AFM

Arizona read the message, before handing the phone to Callie so she could look it over.

Callie's voice was stronger now. "You can tell her that I'm here. She's not going to leave either of us alone until she knows where I am." Arizona just nodded as Callie returned her iPhone. "While you tell her, I'm going to go collect myself in the bathroom. And then I can answer any questions you have about me," the attorney said, making her way down the hall.

Arizona felt more than a little angry at both Addison and Mark. She didn't know the full story, and she hardly knew Callie, but she was already feeling protective of the woman she'd been seeing.

She's with me, but she's more than a little upset, Addison. -AR

Thank God she didn't get on a plane back to Miami. I'm coming over. -AFM

Don't. I've got this under control. You and Mark have done enough tonight. I'll call you tomorrow. -AR

Also, please tell Mark that he'd be wise to avoid me for the foreseeable future, because I really want to hit him with a brick. -AR

We're both really, really sorry. -AFM

About upsetting Calliope tonight, or about letting her go through a tough time without her friends? -AR

Wait, Calliope? -AFM

That's her full name. But don't use it. She doesn't like being called that. -AR

Yet you call her Calliope? -AFM

Well, yes. But she wrote me a sex contract and now we're sort of dating, so I think she's making an exception for me. -AR

Does she have a middle name? -AFM

Yes, she does. Good night, Addison. I'll call you tomorrow. -AR

You're really not going to tell me what it is? -AFM

You're really asking me about her middle name when she just showed up at my door crying? You're welcome to ask her about it if she'll speak to you. -AR

Sorry. Please let me know if she needs me. Mark is sorry, too. -AFM

Callie returned from the bathroom, looking more collected but still shaken up. Understandably so, given the circumstances. She sat beside Arizona, smiling gently.

"You're awesome," Callie murmured, grabbing one of the surgeon's hands and twining their fingers.

"I know." Arizona's smile was cheeky as she tried to lighten the mood. "You're not too bad, yourself."

Callie smiled a little brighter. "You ready? Where do you want me to start?"

The surgeon nodded. "Nowhere else I'd rather be. And you've kept me waiting long enough," Arizona teased.

"I know," Callie said, staring at her feet. "Sorry."

"Hey," Arizona replied softly. "No need for that. Just start at the beginning."

Callie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She spoke deliberately and methodically. "I really loved being an intern. In my personal life, things were messy. I married my ex-husband, George, after I graduated medical school. We had only been together for a few months, but it was clear from the start that his friends hated me, and they wasted no opportunity to show me just how much. His father had just died and he was hurting. He was a year behind me, and he also needed the assurance that even though we wouldn't be on the same campus, we'd still be together, I guess. The wedding wasn't romantic. It was in Vegas and was officiated by a middle-aged man dressed like Elvis, and I had to drink a lot of tequila to force myself to say 'I do'. And then he cheated on me with his best friend. I sort of knew it was happening, but he kept denying it, until one day I caught them at it in our apartment when I was supposed to be on a 72-hour shift. I told him to leave, so he did. We both have really Catholic families, so neither of us took the divorce lightly. To cope with all of the stress and grief from my family and the fact that my marriage fell apart, I found joy in being an intern. I loved everything: surgery, patients, the pit, and even 72-hour shifts and SCUT. I'd always wanted to be a surgeon, but by day two I had my heart seat on orthopedics. It was actually because of Addison. She knew she wanted to go into maternal-fetal medicine from the beginning, and she was really upset that she was assigned to an ortho case. I was on peds, so I offered to switch. And it just clicked. Most people think ortho is carpentry and tease orthopedic surgeons, but I loved it. It was like putting puzzles together, and it provided a way to channel all of my anger towards George into something positive. Soon I made a name for myself as the frontrunner of my class. All of the attendings said I'd be chief resident and had bets on how soon I'd win a Harper Avery award. It didn't matter to me, though. I just loved being a surgeon. When we got our intern exam results back, I got a perfect score. Nobody was particularly surprised, but Addie, Mark, and Derek Sheperd still dragged me out to a bar to celebrate. Especially since I stopped going out after George and I split. I threw myself into work and hardly left the hospital," Callie explained.

Arizona could see the way that Callie's eyes lit up when she talked about being a surgeon. It was clear exactly how much she loved it. Knowing things were going downhill, Arizona just nodded, squeezing Callie's hand comfortingly.

"We actually had a pretty good time. Addie and Derek left early to go, well, have sex, so they told Mark to make sure I got home safe. He lived in the apartment across from mine, anyway, and we were closer than I was with Addie or he was with Derek. We were best friends since the first day of medical school, and we were never a couple, and never wanted to be, but we had satisfying rebound sex when we needed it, and we were always there for each other. It wasn't conventional, but we worked better as best friends who occasionally had sex."

Arizona tried very hard not to cringe at the idea of Mark Sloan defiling Callie. She wanted to hit him with a brick even more knowing that. She wasn't sure if she was more bothered by the image of Callie sleeping with a man, or that man being the same one who stares at her breasts regularly. Regardless, Arizona didn't want to picture that.

"Eventually, a hot girl invited Mark back to her place, so I let him go with her, as any good wing-person would. I told him I'd be fine getting home alone. The walk back was fine, until two blocks away from my apartment."

Callie shut her eyes tight, and took a deep breath. Her voice became more monotonous, trying to recite a statement of facts void of any emotion. "I suddenly I felt a man come up behind me, so close I could feel his breath on my neck, and I felt something pressed at the small of my back. Probably a knife or a gun or something. I never got a good look. He was a really big guy, and told me to go into the adjacent alley so I did. He told me to lie down on the ground, so I did, and he went rifling through my purse. He told me not to scream, and I tried to stop myself but I couldn't. He told me not to scream again, but my mouth wasn't cooperating. So he took his steel-toed boot and stomped on my hand as hard as he could. That shut me up. Then, I think he did it again before he took my purse and ran. I guess I blacked out from the pain or my brain was trying to shield me from the trauma, because I woke up in a few hours later, and I was already in the hospital. My hand was all bandaged, and I tried to move it, but I couldn't feel anything. It didn't even hurt. Mark was asleep in the chair next to me. He woke up when I started screaming," Callie's voice was shaking now.

Arizona could only grip the attorney's hand tightly as she relayed the story, emotion beginning to seep into her words despite her best efforts. The blonde willed herself not to react too much, not wanting to upset Callie any more than necessary.

Callie began again, trying to just get through the story without breaking down. "My hand was shattered and the muscle and nerve damage was beyond repair. The chief assembled the best team of surgeons and flew specialists in. In the end, we could only get about 80 to 85% functionality back, which is great for any normal person, but a death sentence for a surgeon. That effectively ended my career. When I recovered I tried to stay a resident. I did rotations as an OB resident for a bit, and I consulted on cases. The chief even gave me a research grant because he said I was very talented outside the OR, too, and he didn't want to lose me. But after a few weeks I realized that being right next to an OR and not being able to go in was killing me. So I quit, and moved to Miami to be near my parents. Mark blamed this whole thing on himself, and Addison and Derek were guilty about what happened for years. I didn't blame them, but, selfishly, I really didn't want to be around them while they lived out my dream. At first, Addison called incessantly, but I wouldn't answer. Mark never called. I guess he thought I blamed him, so I completely lost touch with him, and I didn't reconnect with Addison until many years later. In Miami, I tried to live as a socialite, like my sister. I tried to drink cocktails, shop, and flirt with other rich people at fundraising galas all night, and then sleep until the afternoon the next day. It was a teenage girl's dream life, but it was never my dream life. I was so depressed because the thing I loved most in life was taken from me. My dreams were crushed. It was so much worse than my divorce."

Tears were streaming down Callie's face now, but she didn't waver. She just wanted to get it all out, once and for all. It felt good, on one hand, to finally talk about it, but on the other hand it hurt to remember. Her voice was stronger now that the worst part was over. "I didn't go back to New York until I had to testify at my attacker's trial. I wasn't the only person he hurt. Testifying and telling my story really gave me the courage to move on from medicine and re-evaluate my life. The prosecutor I testified for told me that I would make a very good lawyer. I decided I may never love another career like I loved being a surgeon, but I could be the best at one. And that may not be ideal, but it was enough to get me out of bed in the morning. I was accepted to Columbia Law but I couldn't bring myself to go back to New York. So I went to Stanford and I made myself so busy I hardly slept, but I was happy again. Well, I was too busy to be unhappy and depressed, which was similar enough. There was a bit of a fiasco when I started dating one of my professors. I was six years older than most of the other students, so it wasn't too scandalous. We went steady for a while, and when I told my parents about her, they sent our priest to try to pray the gay away, I guess. When I refused, they officially cut ties financially and socially. But I had Erica, until I took a risk with a client I was assigned to represent for her class. It worked out, but Erica was furious and said that she was giving me too much freedom because we were dating. She said she would have been fired and maybe disbarred if the risk hadn't gone my way. So, after over a year, she left me, left Stanford, and I never heard from her again. I threw myself into my classes even more, and swore off relationships. Three years later I graduated top of my class from the business school and the law school. Then I started practicing law with my mother's firm, despite her protests. She was too humiliated to tell the other partners why she wouldn't even look at me, so she hired me to make things seem normal. Initially, I wanted to avoid medical malpractice cases so I didn't have to think about operating, but I kept winning them, so I went with it. And a few years ago George's mother called, and told me he died. She said God still considered me his wife, I had to make decisions regarding organ donation and the like. After I wished that he'd get hit by a bus for years, he actually did. I felt cosmically responsible, as crazy as it sounds. ...And I think that's all of it."

Callie released a breath she didn't even know she was holding, leaning against the couch, relieved to have let it all out. Arizona, on the other hand, just sat there trying to process all of the information she'd been given. It was a heartbreaking story, and Callie made so much more sense in light of it. She was gripping Callie's hand tightly, and after a few moments, Callie moved to take her free hand into her other hand, too.

The attorney met Arizona's eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked softly. She probably shouldn't have just said it all at once, but she knew if she stopped, she wouldn't have the willpower to start talking about what happened again.

Arizona blinked, her expression surprised and sad. "Are you okay?"

Callie gave her a sad smile. "Do you mean right now? I'm okay. It has been nine years, so I've had a lot of time to process this. Or did you mean in general? Because things are looking up now that I've met you," the brunette said softly.

Arizona just looked up at Callie, still trying to absorb everything. "You know, you don't have to say you're okay if you're not. You don't have to pretend. Not for me, anyway," the surgeon whispered.

Callie's face was blank, and her voice was honest. "Okay, then I'm not okay. I haven't been okay in a while, but I'm surviving. I've learned to scale back my dreams. I really don't need a whole lot. I used to want to win a Harper Avery, and save so many patients. I wanted to buy a house and have kids, and maybe even a dog. But I don't need any of that."

Arizona frowned, and met Callie's gaze. "You shouldn't have to scale back on your dreams. You shouldn't have to give up anything."

Callie just shrugged. "Yet the universe seems awfully keen on keeping me from all of that." She laughed dryly, before adopting a more serious tone. "Also, and my conscience will torture me if I don't say this, after learning all of this, I won't hold it against you if you want to run in the other direction, or just take some time to yourself to re-evaluate."

Arizona's brows furrowed. "Calliope Iphegenia Torres, if you think that what you just told me changes how I feel about you, you're sorely mistaken. I understand you more, but that helped whatever we have between us, not hindered it." She was adamant. "Plus, I was raised to be a good man in a storm. So you're complicated. I don't run from a challenge. And I think you're incredibly brave. You lost everything and you picked yourself up and started over. You still wake up in the morning wanting to make the world a better place. I think it's awesome, and I like you more now, if anything. I mean, I liked you an awful lot before, but I feel like we're closer now. Am I rambling?" Arizona asked with an awkward laugh.

Callie just grinned. "Yes, but I love your rambles."

"Good," Arizona said with a laugh. "Because I have a tendency to do that, especially around really pretty ladies."

Callie just smiled adoringly at Arizona. "I feel a lot better," she mused.

"Me, too," the blonde replied, her face matching the adoration in Callie's. "You can stay here, tonight," Arizona said, getting up off the couch, using Callie's hands to pull her up, too. "I'll find you something to wear. And if you're comfortable with it, you can stay with me in my bed," Arizona said, releasing one of Callie's hands, using the other to lead the taller woman into her bedroom. It was decorated with all sorts of colors and certainly brighter than Callie's tastes, but unmistakably Arizona.

"Are you sure? I could go back to my hotel…" Callie offered, not wanting to leave, but also not wanting to risk pushing anything too far in her budding romance.

"Positive. I want you to," Arizona replied, rifling through drawers of clothes. She handed Callie a Johns Hopkins tee shirt and a pair of Underarmour shorts. "Just no funny business, Calliope," she teased with a wink.

"I'll keep my hands to socially acceptable areas," Callie replied.

"Can we leave socially acceptable up to interpretation?" Arizona prodded with a playful smile.

Callie just rolled her eyes in response. Arizona Robbins was going to be the death of her.

Arizona started rambling again. She had a penchant for speaking very quickly, and it impressed and unnerved Callie in equal measure. "Fresh towels and a new toothbrush should be in the bathroom across the hall. Or you could use my bathroom. I don't care. Also can one of your minions bring you clothes tomorrow? I don't know if I trust you to go back to The Archfield and change and be back here by eleven. And I was promised lunch…" Arizona smiled.

Callie cocked that perfect eyebrow again. "If by minion, you mean assistant, yes, I can have one of them bring an outfit and my makeup over. And if you're going to say I don't need makeup, I'm going to let you know I wear it so I feel pretty, and I don't just do it for your appreciation." Callie smiled, walking into the bathroom across the hall to get changed.

Arizona entered her own bathroom, pajamas in hand. She finished her nightly routine just as Callie came into her bedroom. They both slipped into a side of Arizona's bed, laying there awkwardly. After a moment, Arizona closed the gap, moving closer to Callie, and pulling Callie's arm over her waist. Callie shifted so that they were properly spooning.

"Is this okay?" Arizona asked, leaning over to turn off her bedside lamp, leaving the bedroom pleasantly dark.

"It's great. Good night, Arizona," Callie murmured into blonde hair, pulling Arizona closer.

"Sweet dreams, Calliope," came the blonde's reply. Callie decided that should be the last thing she heard every night.