Authors Note: You are all amazing! Really! :) You make this fic to what it really is, so thanks for that so much! I wish I could reply each of you here, but that would mean the half of this Chapter would include answers, so I just thank all of you very much. I hope you know what your commenting means to me :) Here is the next Chapter of part c and soon there will be all you waited for (I guess), the big talk between Ari/Callie and just let's hope that the talk is good ;) The Music during the Chapter is Alexis Murdoch – Through the dark. All worth listening to!
And sorry that it took me so long… School started again and I'll have my final exam next January so this will take baby steps from now… but I'll always think about it and I'll try my best to keep it up :) thanks to all of you for waiting!
So enjoy reading and all my best wishes for you,
-Sun
Chapter 21 – Through the dark
I'm going out, I'm gonna make a name for me and you
They can never say I never cared for you
'cause it's just not true
I know your vices and those are your choices
and I want to be there for you
This blaze of sunrise is burning in my eyes
And I want them to burn here with you
Rachael Cantu – I'm gonna make a name for me and you
If you have never seen the sunset you don't know what life means.
Seeing the sun switching with the moon in the evening and waiting until the sunrise the next day, you've truly missed something. You've missed the atmosphere, the warmth evacuating your body, never leaving it the whole night, no matter how cold it is outside.
Only the sight, the feeling, counts. Nothing else.
Now it was me, sitting in my car, seeing the sunrise after ages ignoring it willingly. I can't tell how much I missed it until I saw it right in front of my eyes.
Tears start to well up so quickly it takes everything to not let them grace my face.
I know I'm alone in this car, even alone on this road, nobody could see my infirmity, but it would be evidently in my eyes for hours. I'm alone and I have to be able to settle myself down; as alone as I am here, alone as the sun is rising on the beautiful sky on its own.
I know I need to be able to control this feeling evacuating my body now like it usually filled my heart with warmth, comfort and love years ago. Now I feel cold, shaking cold in this car where warmth is coming mechanically out of this system. But I don't want to be heated at the push of a simple button.
I want to feel warm again.
Warming up inside, starting with my heart, and this beautiful soft and muted feeling rushing through my veins.
The last time I saw the sun rising or settling down I was engaged with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.
I sat down in her arms talking about this great big house with enough rooms, enough space, a beautiful veranda; a place where we could grow old together watching all the sunrises and sunsets we can, until we got tired and fed and decide to head into bed, spending there as long as we could. Kissing, a lot of kissing, holding each other close, breathing each others scent, watching the other sleep. Everything, just being together. I'd do anything with her, if it's just her at my side.
I had her back. Only an instant, but I felt her, so close again. And I was falling deeper when her action spoke louder than any word, and her heart whispered the truth, only for me to hear.
But I could not only hear, but I could feel all of it. It was true.
But as soon as it started, we both went to an endlessly end again. As endlessly as the hope can be hopeless sometimes.
Though as I stand at the gate, waiting for the mechanical doors to open and reveal my best and needed friend, I promise myself that today it's not about me and Calliope. It's about Dr. Teddy Altman, the new doctor at Seattle Grace.
The feeling at an airport is always the same.
Forget the rush, the fear of missing your flight. Besides of the immeasurable stress and bustled people with too much and too have luggage, there are all kinds of people. People from all over the world; and as different as they are, at one moment, when they see and recognize the person they love and missed in the crowd, already waiting for them, they all look just the same. I love those glances, those smiles, tears of happiness spreading into their eyes.
I remember it clearly. There are so many people, hundred pairs of eyes, but one pair of eyes are only meant for you to be seen.
Ghosts are rushing by and as I stand there I spin around, remembering the times where we've been one of them.
I always ran up to her, ignoring where I left my baggage or what people could say. I just wanted to finally reach her, jump and sneak my arms around her neck and my legs around her hips and kiss her full and already waiting lips.
It was heaven and pure hell at the same time, because we already knew we would stand here again, maybe 2 days or longer; standing there at the same spot, but this time saying goodbye for another endlessly time of never passing weeks.
Could we be married now? Happy and Together?
Just her and I, if I wouldn't have accepted the offer to study far away from her?
A small whisper already knowing the answer, trying to share the hurtful and undeniable truth with me, and I know if I could I would change the day I decided to go immediately.
But I can't, and so I stand here, waiting for my friend, waiting for someone, something to save me.
And when the doors open and she finally is stepping out with 5 other people and her eyes are searching for mine, I start to cry. I don't have the strength to withhold. I don't know if it's because of Calliope, of the ghosts still lingering in this room or because I can't believe that I see her again. All I can purely say: I cried because of love.
Someone reaching for me now
Through the dark, reaching for me now(Calliope's pov)
A marriage means being one, getting through all the bad and good times, together.
Being married means loving and being there for each other, no matter what. It means giving up yourself, but not loosing yourself completely, because there's always the other one to catch you and remind you of the person you were.
I always thought that marriage means being happy and feeling safe and home, and when hard times are crashing down, interrupting your joyful days, you don't run. You are strong enough to get through anything. You withstand everything, because you are bond, because you care deeply for the other person. You want to be with the person you married, the person you love.
I sit at home, a beer in my hands, the second one, while I'm resting on the couch. When I look around I wonder how far away I came from what I really wanted.
I am married, but though I feel like I'm still on my own, all these years after I was left behind. I still live on my own, only sharing this flat with my roommate and friend Christina while George still lives with Meredith and Izzy like he did when we first met.
Over 30, married, unhappily, living at separated places.
I try to recall the day when we decided we would let it stay that way and I also try to remember how bad I felt. Did I already ask myself where this should lead? Did I already wonder why we couldn't seem to find the strength, the will or maybe even the love to act like a married couple?
The marriage was rushed and maybe the stupidest thing I've ever done. But it was what I needed and it was so differently from what I had planned with her, and that was what I needed from him.
Maybe it was my fault. My fault to expect so much.
I thought I love him, that's what I can finally confess to myself, but now I'm not so sure anymore. George and I have barely seen each other these days and it's not because of our work, like we always try to pretend. We pretend.
Maybe it's because of his… friendship… with Izzy, maybe it's because if my… I… I don't know. Maybe it'd be the same without Izzy or Arizona... But maybe we both just waited for something, for someone to break in so we had a reason to drift apart, something to justify the end of the beginning.
We've never helped each other through the good and the bad times. We just tried to be free, for distraction, because of the need to be finally loved.
We both expected too much.
I expected love. Life saving love.
I know I shouldn't feel like that, but I do.
I know I should love him, but I don't.
I know I should love him… I know that I can't leave him, because no matter where or when or how rushed things happened… he is still my husband and I'm his wife.
But why, why then, why do I feel her lips on mine when I raise my hands to my mouth and not his?
"Come home with me…" Was all she said to me. No real word followed afterwards, because we have already said enough. With our mouth and our lips. "I can't…"
We both know that I wanted her the way I should only long for my husband, god she even knew that I still love her the way I once did. I think this feeling never really faded away in both of us and we were just growing older, but the rest is still the same.
So there followed stolen glances, unspoken words, smiles, brief touches growing into heavy sighs and loud groans.
We sneaked into on call rooms, kissing without breathing, making out without caring, cause together, alone, we didn't care about the world around us. Only the desire we felt was needed.
After the incident in the bathroom I knew her eyes were afflicted with an despair I couldn't name, cause I've never seen it. Never seen it in this way.
We repeated it over and over again, hungrily looking at each other, desperate needing body contact – skin on skin – lips on lips. It was like a roller coaster – so fast, nerve racking good, powerful like a drug and never ending.
No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get out of this swirl. I couldn't force myself away from her.
"Touch me…" She whispered in my ears, leaning against the door. I looked up into her darkening eyes and I was frozen at her words.
I had heard her saying it so many times in the past. But this time it was so differently, so new, so needing, longing.
She took my hand before I could react and she showed me where she needed me to touch her. I crawled down her trained stomach and into her scrub pants where she waited for me in a hurtful and throbbing anticipation. I closed my eyes, feeling so pure, good and relieved when I came in contact with her – so intimately and close.
I lifted her off the ground and like she remembered the past, she knew what I wanted and sneaked her legs around me, pushing herself against me as good as our still remarking clothes allowed it.
"Make me come… Make me feel you…"
She said as she was looking into my eyes, right before we lost each other again. Lost we got, each time we were there and I wish we could get lost in reality. Only the both of us, without the need to hide.
Minutes later when she came it was like I heard her humming the words softly, words I haven't heard in quiet a time. I heard her sighing while she was closing her eyes, coming down from a high. I tried to ignore it so hard, trying to keep myself away from answering her.
Her low "I love you" made it real and that's what it is.
It's real. It's what I want and it's her I love.
Taking another sip from my bear I try to ignore the things I already know and try to realize and understand that some things in life are not meant to be.
But why does it feel like we are?
Someone reaching for me now
Through the dark, reaching for me now
Ooooh
(Arizona's pov)
"And how was your flight?" I ask, but I don't wait for her to explain.
"Oh, I always loved flying! I mean… you sit beside a stranger, but you always find something to talk about! Isn't that funny? You can talk about where you are from and what you are doing at your destination and then suddenly you find yourself caught in the middle of a conversation! You can even talk about flying! Gosh! That's amazing!" I was laughing bluntly.
"Oh and when I was flying for the first time – it was pretty funny – because I was very young and just imagine me, 8 years old. God I was so nosy and I wanted to know anything so I asked this poor guy who sat beside me – you have to know my family and I had splitter seats- so I started to talk and asked him and…"
I talked so fast, I rambled and nervously laughed, I stumbled over my own words, until she interrupted me with a harsh: "Arizona!"
I purred red wine into our glasses, talked endlessly, and sat down on the couch besides Teddy, but I didn't stop one single second while I was doing it, and Teddy knew me well enough to know why I did it. Because every time I was nervous or didn't know what to do I start doing this. I used to avoid a hurtful topic by talking about rainbows, sunshine, about the future, events, holidays or love. Or maybe even about flying.
But Teddy knows me, she knows how I work, and most of all she knows that I don't beg or ask for help…. She knows that I need her.
"As much as I like to hear stories from your past, Arizona, we already left the small talk behind when you told me why you painted the wall white and brown and not in rainbow colours like you first wanted to – and that for 10 whole minutes… so please, Ari… You called me, you got a new job for me, for which I'm grateful for, cause I needed to get out – but you didn't do it because of nothing… so, tell me now… What's going on?"
I need a minute, a long sip, to compose myself and be ready to tell her what bothers me for so long now and I couldn't talk with anyone, cause no one knew.
I look up, directly into her concerned eyes.
"I have an affair."
I let the truth sink in as she catches her breath, before I speak out what's only worse.
"I have an affair with a married woman, who should be mine…"
"Oh God…"
"Yeah, that's what I thought too…" I say and we start to giggle, until the silence captures both of us again. There's no hilarity, no euphemism to enlighten the situation. She knows of whom we talk.
"Does she love you?" Teddy suddenly asks and I have to look away.
"That doesn't matter…"
"In the end, it's all that matters, Ari…"
I sigh, a single tear cascading down my face. "I don't know…"
During the hot days (and let's face it, in Miami, you don't know what cold really means if you haven't put your head in the fridge for a few seconds each and every day) we spent our time at the sea, on the beach or searching a place to lie on, on the grass. Only the both of us – enjoying the moment as it is – pure and perfect.
There were many days, so many days with her I remember, but this day is so clearly presented, printed down in my head, because it was one of the days I spent with her when we barely saw each other. It was printed down in my head like a rolling tattoo, so unbound and free like 3 butterflies flying by, but knowing where they belong… I remember it clearly.
She sat on the grass watching me, while I leaned against a tree holding a daisy in my hands. I loved them; they are cute, innocent, and beautiful and they always remind me of the stupid games we played in kindergarten, trying to fin out whether we kiss a boy or not.
I looked at Calliope, sharing a brief glance, a wide smile, as I started one of those games again.
"She loves me, she loves me not."
"What are you doing?" She asked as I started to whisper and plug one white blossom after the other.
"I'll find out if you love me…" I answered, grinning mischievously, as she started to laugh as soon as she heard my reply.
"And what does it say?"
"Well… you love me, you love me not. You love me, you love me not. You love me… YOU love me NOT, Calliope! Something to say to your defence?"
"Isn't this ring evidently enough for my defence?"
"No!" I started to pout, knowing what magic it would do. As smart as my little brother I've been too, finding out early how to get what I want. And Calliope could never resist my pouting, or my dimples.
"Okay… what do I need to do then?" She asked rolling her eyes, but a small still displayed on her lips.
"Hmmm… kiss me 1000x times…" I say with a smirk.
"When to start?"
"Now…"
She leaned forward her hand on my cheek as her lips softly graces mine in a slow but tender kiss. As many times as I kissed her and as corny as it sounded, I got never tied of kissing her. Love. That what love is. Always experiencing something new with the same person over and over again. Making each and every kiss like the first one. When I kissed her it was like something familiar, but also knowing that this would last forever and I would never need someone else, except of her.
"I love you, and I'll promise I'll kiss you more than 1000th times from now on to come until my last day…"
"Do you love her?" I laugh dryly and it's the first time I look in her eyes for minutes, pain, sorrow but also never ending love displaying in my eyes.
"More than words can say… but I… I did a mistake… a big mistake…"
"Yes, Arizona, you did a mistake… But you are only human, we all are… and if you truly love someone, forgiveness is always possible. It's what you do, forgiving. So if you love her, fight for her."
Someone reaching for me now
Through the dark, reaching for me now
Some People say that you can't remember the good parts of your childhood, only the bad things that had happened.
But I can truly say it's not the truth. Not for me.
I remember so many things, so many hours I spent with my brothers and my parents. I remember all the funny parts, the holidays, the laughter and the joy.
I remember what brats we were.
We were military brats, 2 boys and a girl who acted like a boy. Just like my old brother I used to have fights in the dirt, I played Indiana Jones and watched Star Wars; I used to wear white tops with square shirts on and my blond long hair held up in a messy pony tail.
It was one of those sunny days I remember when we played outside with our neighbour kids, playing ball or hiding games. And it came to a point where my brothers and I couldn't behave anymore. Everyone knew we were military brats, but they also knew that fooling around with us wouldn't work, because we were known as the nice but also tough kids. Only Matt Steinmeier from across the street started this again, separating us from the others, attacking us, because our Dad had a so called "special job". A job which caused us to move around an he had an other job than the other parents.
So Matt Steinmeier started this game and the others shared it immediately, not willing to disagree in any way.
And well the end of the story was that we all found each other on the ground, dirty, screaming, and welting with each other. I found myself calling out "Come on fight, Denny! Fight!" Because he was the sweet boy from next door, not killing a flee, but they didn't resist in mocking or scuffling with him. And all of us first stop when my Dad stood there, looking angrily at us. He stood there with his usual military respect glance and what the others and Matt said about him and our family was long forgotten when he sent them home. No, it really wasn't easy all the time, but we were children, just like they were and we fought, we played and we had to learn.
It wasn't the first and it wasn't the last time this happened, but it was the only time I clearly remember, because it was the day I first heard the speech and I recall it now, because now it's all I have.
"All of you have taken leave of your senses! You should know better about things like that!" He doesn't scream. He doesn't yell. Nothing. His voice is louder than usual, but he also stays calm. We know how he acts when he is filled with rage. Seeming calm, but being furious. His face and his eyes are telling me everything I need to know. Angry and disappointed at the same time; sad, that his children did something like that. Fighting.
"But… but… but…" Denny blabbering, trying to be a strong boy, not crying. But his voice is already quivering. Yeah, he has this weird problem for respect person, just like me. "You've once told us to be strong… to be a good man in the storm… and we… we tried to be!"
The look in his eyes changed from one second to the other. So abruptly I was shaken immediately. I have never seen him like that. Often seen him being respectful, filled with rage and madness, being a military man.
"You are right Denny. I told you to be a good man in the storm. I raised you to be a good man in the storm. To stand up, be filled with strength and power. All of you are how I raised you to be and I'm a man, a father which heart is endlessly filled with pride for his children… and I will still say: Be a good man in the storm and fight for the things you love. Fight. Protect them. DO all of that. But the most important thing is, something you have to learn: don't hurt anyone. But keep on fighting…"
Yes… fight… fight….
You need someone to hear you when you sigh
Someone to wipe away those tears you cry
Someone to hold you 'neath the darkened sky
Someone to love you more than I
Ooooh
"FIGHT! Oh God, please, fight!" I heard my own screams filling the small blanket room. Over and over again they repeated in my head, echoing in this place.
I am scared. I am a doctor. I should be able to concentrate and not be managed by my emotions. I should think logical about the next step. About that in 99% he can't survive. He can't survive after 10 minutes being already dead. I did everything, sweat glistening on my forehead. I felt so helpless, worn out. I felt far away from my body, looking down onto my own, acting, working, screaming, doing everything to save this boys life.
"Don't do that…" to me…not again.
I did anything I could. I heard their voices; I heard them saying my name, trying to make me stop. I even heard her voice. Her soft words. But I was furious. I couldn't stop, even if I wanted. I couldn't stop, even if I might should.
"Fight! Denny… FIGHT!" Be a good man in the storm.
It felt like hours. It felt like the body of my own brother laid beneath me. I felt his body encased with my hands. And all I did was living through those past weeks again. My imagination took me to another place where I should have been, helping, and it took me back to where I could help. To where I had to help.
"Fight… do it... I know you… can… do… it… FIGHT!" I emphasized every single word with every electric thrust until the loud beeping sound freed me. Freed me out of my state, but not out of my nightmare.
I never gave up. I never shield back, but now I couldn't. I couldn't stay. A small sob left my mouth before I breathed out, relieved, but still in shock. I had to go. I had to run away from all of this. My feet drag me away, past of all the doctors, past of their weird glances. I rushed out, not knowing where to go, but ending up in a small bed, now sobbing furiously.
I had to be strong. I knew that. I knew that it was wrong to run away. I knew all of that… but how can you act against your own will, against your own body even if you know?
You can't…
You can't hope that wounds will heal; wounds that have never really been processed. Wounds you have never processed.
(Calliope's pov)
After years spending your life together you start to believe that you know another person more than you know yourself.
It's verification.
When she laid on me, asking me to hate her, I started to believe that you never really know someone and I never even thought about knowing someone else better than myself. I failed too many times.
And in this white room I experienced it once again.
I was terrified when she took control over the whole room, screaming and fighting when every one of us was giving up.
I always knew how passionately she was about things, but this was more. More than I could understand.
I tried to touch her with my bare hands and I tried to reach her with my voice, but she pushed me away, like everyone else who came near her and who didn't have the intention to help. In the eyes of the others we could read what we all thought: Denny was not able to live. He wasn't able to survive this operation. He had aids, he was sick and when his broken leg got infected we all knew how his weak body would take it.
But she stood there fighting over fighting. She has never been like that, not what I've seen of her in the OR. I have mesmerized her, watched her secretly, just to be able to look at her without being suspicious; and I know that she was good. She was more than that: Maybe you could even call her the best doctor in peds this hospital has ever seen.
But this was apart from a caring doctor, apart from trying to help someone and fulfilling our oath. It was the helpless and desperate try to fight for something else. Something else I couldn't see.
And then she stood there with blood on her hands, breathing heavily while the expression on her face was unreadable. The whispering started, because none of us could understand what was happening: His heart pounded again. Arizona Robbins has done a miracle right in front of our eyes.
But she took a step backwards, her eyes filled with blank horror. I couldn't react, because what came next I didn't expect. She turned away from everyone, no word, no excuse, leaving her mouth as she ran away. I couldn't keep her here, but I also knew I couldn't leave her alone.
"Bailey… you have the control now." I said pointing to the boy who just needed to be closed up. She nodded, still taken aback from the situation, but before I left the room to rush after her I saw her stepping forward.
I don't even know how long I searched her, running through the corridors, hoping to get a hint where she has hid herself. It was a nurse who told me that Arizona was stepping into an on call room down the hall over 10 minutes ago.
My heart pounded as I followed her lead, taking one step after the other. I didn't know what was waiting for me and I was scared to go there.
In the past days we stayed in the sexy part of things.
What we had was an affair. Sex. Passion. Seduction.
We kept being there, not comforting each other, and not really talking to each other about important things.
We… I needed to stay there with her, because I couldn't bear to loose her again.
Only the touch of her skin, her soft breath against my bare shoulder, her heavy sighs and loud groans, her furious moaning and light suspiring; all of that was enough for me, because that meant that In a way I had her back. I had my Arizona back.
But leaving this place would mean that one day we had to talk, about the past, about us, about our affair. And I couldn't.
I was married and I shouldn't even think about that.
But I was in love and I couldn't deny that. Not a second.
So when I opened the door I froze when I heard the so well known sobs. It was her lying on the bed, crying. She first stopped when I stepped in, closing the door behind me.
I saw her moving; suddenly she was sitting on the bed with her cheeks flustered, and tears streaks gracing her face. We kept staring at each other, until she stood up, coming into my direction. The colour in her eyes faded, I could even recognize it in this low exposed room. And before I could even think or react I felt her lips on mine.
Desperately kissing. Desperately searching for respond.
And how she kissed me, god, I didn't want to resist. I almost couldn't. Her lips were so soft and god, she always knew how to kiss me. She always makes me turned on; she makes me love her more than before.
But it's also clear that she did it to forget something.
I pushed her away with my hands around her wrists to keep her in place.
"Don't…" I whispered softly to show her that I wanted her, madly, but now wasn't the right time.
"Don't…" I said over and over again when she tried to kiss me, her free hand touching my cheeks, clinging onto dear life. "Don't, Arizona… Don't…"
And then it changed, she changed. She started crying now furiously while she still needed the contact.
She needed me more than anything else, so I dragged her numb body to the bed and laid her down. Immediately she rolled herself together in a ball, her hands to her own lips, like she was trying to protect herself.
I kept sitting there, watching her and stroking her beautiful blond hair, waiting for her to calm down. I watched her and our eyes kept being connected, until I knew that she was ready to settle down for some sleep.
God I wanted to stay so desperately, but I knew… I knew that it wouldn't be good for us… It wouldn't be good for me.
When I had the feeling that she could be alone I stood up, ready to leave this room, but then I heard her weak voice calling out for me and I knew that I was already sticking in this to deep.
"Please… stay…"
I turned around slowly, walking up to her bed and lying down. I took the free space beside her, and as soon as I found myself in this bed with her, hugging her tightly from behind, I found myself 15 years ago in a big and comfy bed, the night we both decided together, that she had to take the chance, even if it'd mean being separated most of the time.
We said we would be like Romeo and Juliet, who couldn't be together, who were separated most of the time, but of course without the dying part. We believed that we would be like Romeo and Juliet, with a happy ending.
Maybe this was our happy ending. Maybe there would be nothing else. Maybe we had to accept that we couldn't continue glueless, pretending that it's still the same.
But… it was… our love was still the same…
"I still love you…" I sighed, closing my eyes. The words were true, but they never reached her, because she was already sleeping.
I loved her and I would always do. But my heart and our real life were in the way.
I looked down onto the golden ring on my finger, a ring George gave to me on our wedding day. I looked at it and I felt nothing. No shame, no love, no comfort.
I looked at it for minutes and after these passing minutes I peeled it off and shaved it into my pockets.
It was the first time I took it of, and maybe it'd be the last time I had worn it on my finger.
I love you girl,
I love you more than I can say
I love you girl,
I love you more than I can say
Even with my heart in the way
Ooooh