AN: Heaps of thanks to everyone for your continued interest in this fic. So sorry for the delay in getting this most recent part up, it's been a busy start to the year! But I'm immensely excited to still be getting reviews, author and story alerts! Woohoo! Motivation continues. :-)

On with the part…

Part 10

The hastily closed bathroom door, grating into place, drew Callie from a deep sleep. She groaned almost instantaneously into her pillow, sighing at the now familiar sound of vomiting that followed quickly. Or an attempt at the act; it was difficult to have much to regurgitate at seven in the morning. Arizona had been violently ill for the past month or so, once the hormones had kicked into gear around the five week mark. She had constant nausea and was impulsively physically sick multiple times a day. Her blood pressure had dropped to borderline low, so a persistent light headedness also plagued her existence.

And Arizona hated it; with an absolute passion. She had been forced to halt even the quickest and simplistic surgeries to empty her stomach into a hospital vomit bag and already had slumped once into Karev, semi-conscious just after stitching a patient closed. She had tried to struggle into work, but as the news inevitably spread, she had reluctantly taken sick leave, hoping desperately that the weak medication used to treat hyperemesis would have some impact, at least until she made it to twelve weeks when her symptoms would hopefully improve.

Callie waited a few minutes but when Arizona failed to return to their bed and the bathroom became quiet, she rolled to her side and sat momentarily on the edge of the mattress before standing. Walking towards the bathroom, she worked at straightening her camisole; tugging it down her thighs and twisting the bodice so that her breasts were suitably covered. The door was thankfully unlocked, one of Callie's demands after spending five minutes one night urgently working at the handle when Arizona was unresponsive. By the time she resorted to grabbing a screwdriver, ready to remove the handle completely, Arizona had weakly unlocked and opened the door, staring pale faced and apologetically at Callie's panicked expression.

The scene that greeted her inside the room was predictable, with Arizona slumped over the toilet bowl, her own pyjamas looser than usual and hanging off one shoulder. Callie crouched behind her, placing both open palms against Arizona's back, waiting for her to raise her messy blond hair off of the seat, where it hid her face completely. Arizona's body shuddered under her touch though and a fused hiccup and sob echoed through the small room. Callie repositioned herself, kneeling on the cool tiled floor and running a hand over the crown of Arizona's head and down to her neck. "What can I do?" she asked quietly, helplessly.

"Kill me," Arizona muttered into the porcelain bowl, "and put me out of my misery."

"It won't be for much longer, you're almost through the first trimester."

Turning her head to the side, Arizona looked tearfully at Callie. "You know as well as I do that this can last the whole pregnancy."

"Odds are though…" Callie said gently, trailing off.

"Odds are useless unless you fit into the majority. I can't keep doing this." They had had the same conversation at least three times, whenever Arizona was exhausted, dehydrated and completely frustrated with her inability to complete her usual, easy, day to day tasks.

Callie sighed and half smiled; despite Arizona's clear distress, there was something comforting in the persistent pregnancy related nausea. It meant that the pregnancy was continuing; it was viable. The existence of morning sickness, or all day hell as Arizona preferred to label it, was a clear indicator of healthy embryo development. To Callie, it was almost a relief. "You need to be taking Ondansetron more Arizona, otherwise you'll be back in hospital on an IV."

Arizona nodded in response and Callie raised her eyebrows. They had debated it over and over; still, Arizona was cautious. She was happy to take Reglan on a regular basis, but it barely had an impact; she argued that anything that made her drowsy and somewhat hazy couldn't be good for the baby. "You want me to get it?"

"Please," Arizona murmured, rolling her face back into the inside of her elbow, unsuccessfully hiding her tears. In some ways, to Arizona, the constant sickness was messing with her head; her confidence. She had put so much energy into feeling positive about the pregnancy and managing her doubts; but without that focus all the uncertainties and self-deprecating thoughts were returning. She felt again, that she wasn't meant to be a mother; wasn't built to be maternal. That her body was telling her that she was naïve to think that she could manage. She felt as if she wasn't doing it right and that she was making it worse for Callie. There was no evidence to substantiate any of her subjective concerns though and she had kept it ferociously to herself.

"Why don't you go back to bed and I'll get you drugs and a little for breakfast." Arizona raised her head finally and leant back, her face a ghostly grey. Callie sighed inadvertently; Arizona was looking frailer and more defeated with each passing day. They stared weakly at each other, gaze held in prolonged silence. "Need a hand?" Callie eventually asked, rolling back on her feet and standing, palm held out in front of her.

Arizona reached for her gratefully, curling her fingers around Callie's wrist, though her grip had lost its usual tightness. She stood carefully, taking two small steps to press her body into Callie's, her forehead pressing into her brown hair covered shoulder. Her dry lips pursed against Callie's skin, trying to communicate her gratitude for patience without uttering the words. The simple kiss was rough and awkward though, almost grating against the tender nape of Callie's neck. "I've never felt this horrific for this long," Arizona said, feeling compelled to offer an explanation for what she perceived to be another of her inadequacies.

Callie nodded, one arm wrapped around Arizona's shoulders, her hand pressed to the base of her scull. Her other arm was around her wife's lower back, fingers just tapping at her evident hip bone. They stayed that way, motionless for a few moments, until Callie tensed her shoulders and leant back, offering a small smile. "Bed," she instructed and Arizona nodded, gingerly padding her way to the bed and sliding under the covers on Callie's side. "Now, pill or IM?"

Arizona's eyes opened wide before she sighed in relief, she had forgotten that Callie had organised with their Obstetrician for injections as well as tablet form. There had to be some bonuses to their years of medical training. "Do you even have to ask?" Arizona asked, curling on to her side and pulling her knees closer to her chest.

"Fair call, stabby stabby it is. What about food, anything you think you could tolerate?" Arizona screwed up her face and shook her head. It didn't help her of course that at the first sign of nausea she ran a mile from food, just a little in her stomach could make a reasonable difference. Not the perfect cure, as Arizona's mother had insisted when Callie phoned her in a flood of tears. A nice ginger tea and some saltines; she'll be as good as new. Not quite. But it did minimally help, especially if she kept nibbling at small bits of crackers and fruit constantly throughout the day. "Come on Arizona, you need to have something."

"Yeah, a trash can to hurl into," Arizona muttered sarcastically, groaning childishly.

"I'll decide then," Callie countered. "Nothing is not an option."

Callie disappeared for just a few minutes, returning with a capped syringe held between her thumb and forefinger. Arizona's eyes flickered only a little, barely reacting to the swift piercing of the skin at her upper arm, the needle pressing into her muscle before Callie pushed the plunger down. "My patients do say that I'm better than the nurses, absolute expert," she said confidently, with a forced cheeriness.

Arizona's lips twitched slightly, holding her heavy eyelids open. "Hey, I'm the one who punctures children…"

"Yeah, through a central line!"

"Are you really going to pick on me, now?"

"Absolutely," Callie said, though she softened her expression and sat gently on the edge of the bed. "I love you, so of course I'm going to pick on you at any opportunity, it's just the way it is," she continued to tease lightly, running the pad of her thumb over Arizona's temple and leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

"Mean," Arizona whispered, though she moved her head slightly to lean into Callie's hand.

"Any further thought about food?"

"Your choice." Arizona closed her eyes again as Callie stood and returned to the kitchen. She fought against another wave of nausea, as it turned her stomach and made her head spin. It was almost like being so unbelievably intoxicated that even lying down, the objects around the room tossed and tipped, spinning around the pulsating walls. She didn't want to move; just the effort to control her breathing through the persistent gagging at the back of her throat was difficult enough. She hadn't really disclosed to Callie that she spent most days at home, curled onto her side and quietly crying. Each time she vomited, more energy was drawn away from her already exhausted body and just the simple act of walking back from the bathroom started to become challenging. She wasn't beyond crawling, or even lying on the bathroom floor dozing with her cheek pressed against the cool tiles. Sometimes she would tug a towel down from the rack and shove it haphazardly under her head, other times she wasn't sure she could even remember getting to the bathroom. She felt ill; unwell…disabled.

She felt completely out of control.

XXXX

"Tell me," Callie declared, pulling her key out of the door as she stepped inside, "that our daughter is sound asleep and you have beer, nice cold Neanderthal type beer."

Strolling out from an adjacent room, towel tied around his waist and body still damp, Mark cocked his head to the side. "Things going well over at the Torres-Robbins breeding factory?"

Callie narrowed her eyes and despite a flash of anger that cursed through her, quickly released a genuine laugh. "Bastard. Can you not put clothes on for a visitor?"

"You're not a visitor. And you have a key. Anyone with a key, gets exactly what they deserve."

"You can have your key back if you get dressed and meet me in front of your television for some alcohol fuelled trashy viewing." Callie had already tossed her handbag on the kitchen counter and was crossing the living area to peer into Sofia's bedroom, content to find her sleeping soundly.

Mark nodded, running his hands through his wet hair and shaking it slightly, a few drops falling to his shoulders. "How about, you keep the key since you're the mother of my child and all. And, I'll throw clothes on, just because that's the kind of nice guy that I am."

"You know, the years haven't changed you at all," Callie said strongly, closing Sofia's door and stepping over a few rogue toys as she made her way to the fridge.

Mark pouted and disappeared back into his room, re-emerging thirty seconds later in a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt. "I think you've insulted me twice in the two minutes you've been here, things mustn't be all sunny in paradise."

"I always insult you Sloan, you're getting sensitive in your old age. Sofia has softened you."

"Awww, my feelings. My poor feelings." Mark was happily bantering with Callie really, waiting for the tirade of frustration that was clearly being carried in her tense shoulders and rhythmically clenching teeth.

"How about, I stay here with Sofia and you go to my place and take care of Arizona, just for another three weeks until, if there's a God, her hyperemesis disappears." Callie had a packet of potato chips gripped between her teeth, and held two beers in each hand, secured between her fingers by the neck of the bottles. She placed them heavily on the coffee table and emphatically dropped herself onto the sofa.

"Not a bloody chance, Robbins would eat me alive. What would I do? Rub her feet?" Mark picked up the remote control from next to the television and flicked it on as he slumped down next to Callie.

"She hates having her feet touched, mostly anyway. You could hold her hair back when she pukes for the tenth time that day. If I never see vomit again…" Callie trailed off, rubbing the base of her palms against her forehead.

"It's that bad?"

"Worse. You know, I've heard about it, studied it even. In fact, I remember cousin Liliana spending her entire pregnancy in hospital. But for crying out loud, can we not cut a break?"

Mark used his shirt to open a beer, handing to Callie with a look of helplessness. "And from what I hear, Robbins isn't a five star patient."

Callie rolled her eyes heavily. "Can't blame her," she rebutted quickly, an urge to defend her wife paramount. "Some days it's like she can hardly move and she just looks at me, as if she can't believe she's in this position. She's miserable, Mark."

"Of course she's miserable, she's probably feeling half dead."

"At least she's started taking something decent, doesn't throw up twenty times a day now; just ten. But she still can't work properly, she's only done a few days in the past six weeks."

"And, I probably should point out. She's not much use when she is at work. A hindrance I've heard…but don't shoot the messenger." Mark smiled and held his hands in the air. Teddy and Mark were receiving most of the questions about Arizona, generally just concerned staff that were insightful enough not to hassle Callie. But the definite theme was that Arizona shouldn't be pushing herself to work, she was no use in the operating room, bent at the waist or slumped in a corner, with her face pushed into a vomit bag.

"Oh I know," Callie agreed, nodding her head eagerly. She rested her drink momentarily, opening the large bag of salt and vinegar chips and placing it between them on the chair. Taking a handful, Callie leaned back again, tipping the beer to her lips and taking a long gulp. "But what can I do? When she can actually get out of bed, she wants to go to work. I can hardly say no."

"Well, better you than the Chief."

"Crap." Callie exhaled loudly, staring at Mark and shaking her head before shoving a few chips into her mouth. "You have no idea Mark, she is so sick."

"It won't last forever."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both staring at a black and white movie on the television, though they couldn't hear the dialogue and had no concept of the storyline. "I feel like I made her do this," Callie said softly, trying to draw her mind back to the present.

Mark nodded slowly. "Just because she's miserable and probably hating the entire world right now, doesn't mean she doesn't want this."

"I'm a bitch though; all I can think is that this is amazing. That she's pregnant and so incredibly sick…it relaxes me that she's sick. How cruel is that?"

Smiling, Mark shrugged. "Yeah, see I get where you're coming from. Still, I'm not sure I would share that with Robbins right now. She may stab you with a kitchen knife."

"Or beat me to death with a rolling pin."

"Probably unlikely if you think about it, she would have to stop to barf in the middle of trying to kill you."

They laughed and Callie felt her body release the tension she had been holding for weeks. Such a short and simple conversation to have, yet it brought some normality. It was enough to remind her that this was all temporary, there was light, so to speak, at the end of the tunnel.

XXXX

Arizona had spent the last three hours lying on the sofa in front of the television. She had watched half a movie before losing tolerance for Hugh Grant and his predictable humour, despite a usual quiet enjoyment for his range of romantic comedies. The television however, was proving just as lacking in interesting material, having been left to choose between a fifties black and white film and constant reruns of the entire fourth season of Lost. She settled for Lost, impatiently waiting for Callie to return from her time out at Mark's.

Callie had insisted that she was just going to check on Sofia, make sure all was well in the Sloan household. But Arizona was far from stupid, knowing that Callie was taking some distance when she left after seven, right in the middle of Sofia's bedtime. Not to mention that Sofia had only been at Mark's for one night, hardly a lengthy period of time.

And Arizona was actually having a reasonable evening, she had managed to eat a piece of toast and a camomile tea, and still her stomach felt somewhat settled. She was bored. And she missed Callie.

Even when she was feeling incredibly sick, she liked knowing that Callie was in the next room, quietly reading or working on her laptop. It made her feel safe and protected. But when she had brief moments where she wasn't feeling completely fatigued, she wanted to spend them with her wife. She liked to catch up on the news from work or stories about Sofia, and have a conversation that wasn't cut short because she needed to throw up.

It had all felt a little odd since they had achieved a pregnancy, after all of the appointments and treatments they had both been through. The amount of time that they had spent, just the two of them, was incredible. They had always been so careful to do as much as they could together, to make the conception they were attempting to obtain, something that they were both a part of. Starting with Callie's fertility treatments and subsequent inevitable miscarriages, they were always together. Even when their communication was low or they were seemingly on parallel wavelengths, physically, they were together.

Arizona's final insemination was no different; they had both been at the clinic with Callie unflinching at the death grip Arizona formed around her hand. It didn't matter how many times she had experienced the same procedure, legs in the stirrups and sheet draped across her thighs and hips, she had to still be reminded to force herself to relax and breathe. Calm Arizona, remember? It's worse if you tense.

Arizona would frustratingly sigh, offering a small insightful laugh, knowing she was being ridiculous. Slowly, after a few attempts, Callie had established a strategy for distracting Arizona. She would turn Arizona's face to her and keep one hand wrapped around her jaw, her thumb stroking slowly and rhythmically over the hollow of her cheek. Once their gaze was held, Callie would quietly and calmly talk, about anything and everything that came to mind. And when Arizona would predictably close her eyes and clench her teeth, she would halt and lean forward to hover of Arizona's ear. Look at me Arizona; you need to look at me. I'm telling you a story about Sofia and how much she loves her Mama… It was all it took to have Arizona offer a tiny smile and open her eyes, occasionally pooled with tears but immediately focussed on Callie.

Sometimes, Arizona thought she hated it all more than Callie. She was more resentful of the hand they had been dealt, the obstacles they had to constantly overcome. Callie was used to being upset and angry; and then as quickly as the feeling came, it was gone. The emotion was wasted energy when they just needed to focus on the next thing, the next obstacle that would get them closer to their dream. All the time, Arizona was still quietly fuming.

Carefully drawing herself to her feet, Arizona cautiously walked across the room and into the kitchen, taking an open box of salted crackers from the pantry and refilling her glass of water. She stood still momentarily, testing her nausea and balance. Content that she wasn't going to suddenly need to race to the bathroom, she went back to the sofa and settled on to her side, occasionally eating a small cracker as she watched an episode. She continued to force the thoughts and memories away, that played havoc with her mind as she waited for Callie to get home. A few times she reached for her phone to text her, but quickly put it down again. Callie deserved a few hours of relaxation and healthy company; she had really been unwavering in her patience.

Still, she breathed sigh of relief when she heard keys in the door, tipping her head to look over the arm of the lounge as Callie walked in. "Hey," she said first, catching Callie by surprise.

"Hey, yourself," Callie responded, keys and handbag dropped to the floor beside the chair. "You're not in bed, which has to be a good thing." She felt in a good mood after her visit to Mark's, the slight buzz of two beers having worn off, leaving her calm and relaxed.

"No," Arizona answered softly. "I'm out of bed and stringing sentences together. A miracle, right?"

"The magic of drugs," Callie said. She nodded her head, guiding Arizona to lift her shoulders as threw one cushion to the floor and placed the other one on her lap, allowing Arizona to settle comfortably over her legs.

"Mmmm, and some food. Seems to last longer if I actually eat."

"Really?" Callie teased, planting her heels on the coffee table. "Who knew?"

Arizona rolled her eyes. "Anyway, how was Mark's."

"Yeah, good. Sofia is all settled; sound asleep when I arrived, so behaving for Daddy."

"And did Mark have a chilled beer for you?"

Callie hesitated, halting her fingertips at Arizona's forehead as she tried to read her wife's expression. "Ummm, yeah I guess. Just one or two."

Smiling, Arizona reached for Callie's hand and hugged it to her chest. "Don't look so stressed, it's fine. You can just tell me you know…when you need some time out. I know I'm no fun right now."

"Oh you're always fun Arizona," Callie replied, laughing in relief at Arizona's more carefree frame of mind. "I don't know what you're possibly referring to."

"Ha ha, very funny. Just enjoy this while it lasts, for the first time in weeks, I don't have the constant urge to kill myself. Or one of the first times, anyway."

"It's been pretty crappy, hey?"

Arizona exhaled heavily. "Just a little. Sorry, I haven't been very nice to live with, have I?"

Callie smiled and rolled her eyes. "Come on, as if I don't have a whole world of tolerance right now. You, are amazing," she emphasised, eyes wide.

With a small swell of emotion, Arizona seemed to lighten under the easy words. Momentarily, she didn't feel like a burden or yet another failure. "Thank you," she said softly. "Calliope."

Grinning, Callie tugged slightly on her arm, where Arizona still had it held securely between both of her hands. "I haven't heard you call me that in forever."

"Forever?"

"Well, maybe not forever, but a little while. I like it."

Arizona curled closer into Callie's body, her nose just lightly brushing against Callie's covered naval. "Me too."

"Can I do anything whilst you're feeling okay? Something else to eat? Warm bath?"

Arizona shook her head. "Nah, I'm munching on Saltines and they're treating me well."

"Nothing else?"

"No thanks, I'm good here as long as you're staying. I kind of missed you tonight."

"You should have called. I could have brought home some dinner or something."

Arizona shrugged, Callie had only been at Mark's for just over two hours, and she hardly deserved a guilt trip for that. Rolling back over and releasing Callie's arm, Arizona watched a few minutes of television. She took another cracker and nibbled on it slowly. "Do you know it's only three days until we have a scan?" she asked quietly as the advertisements started.

Callie nodded, randomly trailing of her fingertips over Arizona's back. "Yep. Can't wait." It seemed almost forced enthusiasm, but it was genuine. Callie was excited to hear the heartbeat and view the tiny, forming embryo with its visible arms and legs.

Arizona seemed to hesitate slightly. "You're not nervous?"

"No," Callie answered confidently, slipping one open palm around Arizona's hip and across her abdomen. The other squeezed at her shoulder. "Maybe I should be, more. But I'm not really, just excited. You're anxious?"

With her face flushing slightly, Arizona swallowed heavily. "No, not crazy anxious, but a little. You know that the morning sickness, constant or not, is a good sign, right?"

Callie smiled, grateful that Arizona couldn't observe her reaction. "Yeah, I know. As much as I hate how sick you are of course, but it is kind of comforting."

"I hope everything is okay."

Nodding slowly, Callie stroked at the bare skin of Arizona's stomach. It hadn't swollen at all yet, and with her weight loss, she definitely didn't look pregnant. Yet there was something about knowing that there was a tiny forming human, tucked deep inside. "It'll feel easier when we get past this scan, Arizona. This is the hurdle; everything will feel safer after Monday."

"It's only the ten week scan though, still a couple of weeks before the stats change." Arizona was so hesitant; still frightened that she was still going to let Callie down.

"Stats are full of crap. Since when have we followed any statistic?"

"Fair point…but still…"

"I know Arizona, I know. But you; you're doing everything you can. We've done everything we can to make this work out."

"I realise I'm being negative again," Arizona said softly, her expression sheepish.

Callie shook her head, motioning for Arizona to roll on to her back. "We've had this conversation," Callie said gently. "We don't sugarcoat anymore, remember? We say it as it is." She smiled and Arizona rolled her eyes, she had heard the lecture before. "Now however, I think it's time to start talking to this baby, let her know who's boss."

"Her?"

"Let's go with her, until we're told otherwise. I don't cope very well with it."

Arizona offered her a soft laugh, tolerating if not advocating for the clear effort Callie was putting in. "Sure."

"Right, so, little growing embryo in there," Callie started light heartedly, bending slightly and talking directly to Arizona's abdomen. "There will be no causing trouble next week alright, it's time to get on with things, start getting rid of tails and gills and all that Darwinism, adaptation crap."

"Which hopefully has happened by now, unless we're growing a dolphin," Arizona offered, earning a deliberate and sarcastic stare.

"See, your Mama is the expert but let's not let the truth get in the way of a good story. Although, the image of Mama giving birth to a tailed mammal is a fairly amusing sight, it's not quite what we're after. Right, where was I? Yes, you make sure that everything is sorted on Monday and while you're at it, perhaps you could lay up a little, let Mama keep her breakfast down once or twice. What do you think? Deal?"

"I'm concerned," Arizona said, finally releasing a genuine chuckle. "That you might be expecting a response."

"No way, we've got a telepathic communication happening. I'm just being an idiot, but I did get to see you smile." Callie grinned, changing her posture to lightly kiss Arizona's lips.

"Surely there's an easier way to get me to smile?" Arizona teased.

Shrugging, Callie muttered, "Yeah, but running naked down the street is generally frowned upon."

"Mmmm, generally. But that would make me laugh too," Arizona responded, laughing lightly.

"I am so glad that you've had just a few hours of feeling okay," Callie said, her voice suddenly serious. "I've been worried about you." Arizona's expression faded and she met Callie's concerned gaze. Nodding slowly, Arizona licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak but quickly hesitated. "What?" Callie questioned.

Arizona blinked quickly and felt Callie's hands on her, one entwining through her disordered blonde curls and the other coming to rest on her sternum. "I was just going to ask you, to tell me that everything is going to be okay."

Callie sighed heavily and swallowed against the lump that appeared spontaneously in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to allay Arizona's fears, to tell her over and over that life always works out. But it doesn't and they gave up making promises to each other, which they couldn't possibly keep, a long time ago. "I would if I could."

"I know, that's why I stopped. It was cruel."

"What if I promise that we'll always be okay. Does that help?" Callie asked with a small smile, earning a nod from Arizona in response.

"It'll do," she whispered, again taking Callie's hand at her chest and hugging it tightly. "It'll do."

XXXX

TBC….