A dry throat made Arizona cough, her shoulders rising around her ears as she immediately felt her wife's eyes on her back. She hadn't made an innocent noise in weeks without Callie looking at her out of the side of her eyes. "It was just a cough, Calliope," she said, trying to stay patient. Not that she could blame her entirely. The cancer had snuck up on them. And her wife's paranoia was not without cause. "You have to relax," she sighed, staring down at the open file on the table in front of her without seeing the words on the page. "I'm fine."

"I know," Callie said, her voice heavy. She stirred her coffee slowly, trying not to stare at the back of Arizona's head. She just couldn't help herself. Arizona had to be okay or her world wasn't on its right axis. "I'm sorry." She didn't want to be this person, tense and anxious every time Arizona even sneezed.

"Do you want to take a look?" Arizona offered, giving her partner a look over her shoulder.

"Would you?"

"Calliope," sighed Arizona, turning on her chair to face the other woman fully. This would not be their first reassurance test.

"I know!" Callie groaned before the blonde could say anything else. "I know, it's insane, and annoying, and you're sick of it, I know it, but Arizona..." She trailed off, looking uncertain.

"'But Arizona,' what?" Arizona prompted. "We look, and there's nothing there, but what?"

A heavy sigh escaped Callie, her shoulders slumping. "But I have to take care of you, Arizona. But you had cancer, and -"

Standing up, Arizona took three long steps across the room until she was in Callie's space. Callie's head was down though and she took her wife's coffee cup out of her hand gently and set it aside, guiding both of Callie's arms around her, relieved when hands slid up her back to pull her closer. "Look at me," she coaxed in a whisper. Brown eyes met hers for a glance and Arizona used two fingers under her chin to move her head back up. "You didn't give me cancer, Calliope. And when we found out there was something wrong you never left my side. Do you understand how amazing you have been through all of this? Because you're incredible." She cocked her head and Callie sighed. "And I do not have cancer anymore." Callie's mouth dropped open to protest and Arizona continued quickly, "And I know you're scared but we're going to be careful, and we'll get checkups, and everything will be okay." Callie's mouth was still open and Arizona darted her head forward to peck her wife's bottom lip. "But we will not be dragging ourselves in here every time I hiccup, okay?"

"Arizona-"

"I love you," the blonde cut her off. "I love you so much. And you take such good care of me. And you didn't miss anything, or let me down." She blinked, fingers on the back of Callie's neck curling into her hair. "Please just, we'll talk, and I swear I'll tell you if I think we need to worry but I can't live like this, with us being scared of shadows."

And Callie knew that Arizona was right, that there was nothing wrong anymore, but the thought of taking that for granted, of getting called into another exam room to see a shadow on a monitor and feel the world drop out from under her again, it made something like ice settle into her stomach. Chewing on her lip, she could only sigh again.

"Calliope..."

"I am trying, okay?" Callie interjected. "But you're – everything, Arizona! And I won't lose you!"

Arizona didn't try and argue with her, said nothing more to convince her that she was fine, just burrowed her head into Callie's shoulder and held on tight. "Will you come lay down with me?" she asked, her voice soft, scarcely audible.

Callie gave no answer but let herself be lead to the nearest on-call room, pulling Arizona into her arms on the narrow bunk and guiding her wife's body securely into her embrace. She would never let anything take this woman from her. Arizona felt good against her, the warmth of her body comforting and comfortable. Her breath came short when Arizona steered her hand from her waist to the edge of her scrub top and underneath. "A-Arizona..."

"Shh," the blonde hushed her, guiding Callie's fingers to the tiny scar left behind from her surgery. It was already only a slight indentation on her stomach. Addison was very, very good at what she did. With any luck it would disappear almost entirely in time.

Of course Callie had seen the mark after the surgery, had seen it starting to fade in her followup checkups, but it wasn't something she was aware of ever having touched deliberately. It had been physically painful for Arizona at first and remained an emotionally painful reminder of what they had lost. "I don't want to-"

"You're not hurting me," Arizona whispered. "You wouldn't hurt me." She breathed deeply, wriggling her body even further back into Callie's loving grip. "We're hurting, Calliope. But it won't be like this forever. We're going to be okay." Coaxing her partner's fingers lightly, she sighed when soft fingertips took her prompting and started drawing gentle circles on her skin.

Neither one spoke, Callie gradually relaxing into the contact and letting her palm press against Arizona's stomach. She dropped her face into Arizona's neck and inhaled deeply. It was almost as if she could draw everything Arizona was inside herself, keep her safe and whole, protect her from everything and anything that could ever hurt her. "I know I've been driving you crazy," she said quietly. "I just want to protect you. Because you are the most important person in the world to me." Arizona stayed quiet, knowing that Callie had been holding onto a lot of her own feelings in her attempt to be strong for her and Sofia. "I need you, Arizona. And Sofia needs you. God, baby..."

Arizona spoke up at that point, hushing her softly. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised, rubbing her wife's arm soothingly. "And you aren't going anywhere. Sofia is going to run us ragged, I'm sure, but I can't wait for that, honestly."

"Arizona..." She couldn't imagine raising their daughter without her partner. The thought of it sent a shudder down her spine. Arizona squeezed her arm, able to feel the tremor go through her. Callie hugged in her tighter, Arizona moving willingly into the embrace.

"I'm right here," she promised. She wanted Callie to remember that. "Hang onto me though. I'm right here. Don't let me go." It was for more than Callie's benefit – she felt relief and comfort nowhere else like in Callie's arms. And her wife was more than up to the task, holding her tight, keeping her safe and warm. "We're grieving. It's okay to be upset." One hand pressed Callie's into her abdomen. "But there's nothing in here," Arizona promised. Nothing that wasn't supposed to be, anyway. And one thing that was supposed to be there was gone too. She knew instinctively that this wasn't about the baby. Not right now. At this moment, for Callie, this was about her, about letting out the fear of losing her that had had her flinching for weeks.

Arizona felt the tension snap, Callie choking back a sob against her neck and pulling her in impossibly tighter.

"Let it go, Calliope," coaxed Arizona in a whisper, turning over in her wife's arms. She couldn't let Callie cry like this and not hold her. "Come here." Gentle hands drew Callie's head to her chest, arms and legs wrapping almost painfully tight around her in the new position. "I've got you."

She'd held Sofia in this exact same hold after she'd fallen on her skates on the driveway and scraped her knees. The sound of crying from the other side of the yard had made her heart skip a beat.

It felt like it was being ripped out now watching Callie finally release some of her relief and grief. Because she knew that the two were inseparable. She was still here and their baby had been lost. Callie's tears were soaking into her shirt and Arizona had trouble keeping her own breathing steady. So she stopped trying, letting her own tears escape in a slow, steady stream down her face. All she could do was hold Callie and cry. But it strangely felt like something they each needed.

Arizona's eyes were swollen by the time Callie calmed down enough to lift her head, one hand rising shakily to swipe tears from her wife's cheeks with a thumb. "I hate when you cry," she said, her voice cracked and rough with her emotion. "It makes me want to cry." Callie was tearing up again, trying to keep the waterworks from starting back up again. "Arizona..."

"It's okay," whispered Arizona, turning her face into Callie's hand. "Cry if you need to."

"I don't want to." Callie leaned in instead, pressing a chaste, salty kiss to her partner's lips. "God, I hate this," she whimpered, blinking back more tears as she locked eyes with Arizona. "I love you."

Arizona nodded, their noses brushing as she moved. "I know you do. I love you too." She tried to think of something, anything, that could bring Callie any comfort. "Do you want to know what I was thinking about before the surgery?" she asked, her own voice choked and low. Callie nodded, noses bumping again. She took another kiss without a word, not sure she actually did want to know, but knowing that she had to let Arizona tell her. "I was thinking how we would juggle Sofia's soccer practice with our surgical schedules if I had to go to Chemo more than once a month." Callie whimpered, brows furrowing as she teared up again. "I know, I'm sorry," Arizona whispered, hating the pain in her partner's eyes. "But do you know what I never, ever doubted, Calliope? That you would be there to figure it out with me." She smiled tremulously. "Since we woke up in the living room floor together I haven't wanted a future with anyone but you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Callie promised in a hushed whisper, leaning forward in a rush to kiss her again. Her hands caught Arizona's face, holding her in the kiss. The blonde was making no move to escape though.

"Neither am I," Arizona echoed when she could, leaning her forehead against Callie's so that all they could see was each other's eyes. "What if we did another ultrasound and found something?" she asked, still seeking the words that might help Callie get past her phobia of a recurrence. "Would it change anything for you?" She already knew the answer, of course, didn't doubt her wife's devotion to her.

Callie's mouth fell open, her head jerking backwards. "No!" she gasped, slapping her wife's thigh sharply in rebuke. "Never!"

"I know that!" promised Arizona, hooking her leg over Callie's and catching her hands. "I know it wouldn't. You wouldn't leave me if I was still sick." She caught her wife's deep brown eyes. "And you won't leave me if I happen to get sick again. But Callie, we can be careful, and vigilant, and it doesn't have to control our lives." Her mouth dropped, corners turning down. "I know that all the wondering is killing you. And watching it is killing me," she confessed. "We can't live like this, Calliope."

Sighing, Callie nodded against the pillow, her eyes swimming with tears again. "I know..."

Arizona tried a hopeful smile, stroking light fingers across her wife's cheek. "We'll be okay. Whatever happens. I'm not leaving you, you're not leaving me." She nestled closer, Callie's arms dragging her in. "And if we have to, we'll fight can-"

"Stop," Callie cut her off. "I will do anything with you, but don't say it." She blinked back tears, licking her lips. "Please?"

"Okay," promised Arizona soothingly. She would never do something that she knew would cause her partner pain. Her touch moved up to comb gently through dark hair. "Are you okay?"

Callie's head bobbed again and she pulled Arizona's head into her shoulder, resting her chin on soft blonde hair. "I will not be okay if you get sick, Arizona." She took a deep, steadying breath. "I will be with you, though. No matter what."

"Good, because you are stuck with me," Arizona said, her body relaxing spontaneously against Callie's warm, comfortable, support.

"You're stuck with me," Callie corrected her decisively. "God, I'm so tired of crying." More than that, even, she was more than tired of being petrified anytime Arizona coughed. She wasn't going to blame herself for worrying about her wife. The anxiety wouldn't just go away either. But she knew that Arizona was right – they couldn't, she couldn't live like this, with her scared of something that might never happen. The best thing she could do would be remind herself every day not that Arizona might get cancer again, but remind herself that if she did that it would change nothing about her own devotion to her wife and their marriage. She was with Arizona, come hell or high water. Or cancer.

"Honey..."

Callie cut her off again. "No, I know. It's okay. I'm done for now," she promised. She took a deep, steadying breath. "You smell really good," Callie said instead of continuing down their conversational rabbit hole. It might be her fault but it felt like all they talked about anymore was the cancer, or the possibility of the cancer. She wanted to talk about something, anything, else.

Chuckling, Arizona nestled her head in against Callie's neck. "It's just my usual shampoo, Calliope."

Her partner's breathing was tickling her skin, sending a tremor down her back. "I guess I just haven't been close enough to notice it lately," she said almost apologetically and took another deep breath. "I'm back on focus now and you smell good." Arizona kissed her chest right above the collar of her shirt. "And you feel good."

"Yes, I do," Arizona confirmed, wiggling herself deeper into Callie's arms. For an on-call room visit that had started because Callie's anxiety was stifling this hadn't tuned out too badly at all. She sighed, eyes falling closed. "You feel really good too."