Post-9x12.

As they sat eating a late dinner of their own after putting Sofia to bed, Callie asked hopefully, "So, what movie do you want to watch?"

Arizona was clearly troubled. Her eyes were fixed in a faraway gaze, and her mouth was set in a grimace. Finally, refocusing, she looked at Callie. "What?"

Callie smiled hesitantly. Things had been so good, lately. She hoped that they would stay that way. "Movie night tonight, remember?"

Arizona knit her eyebrows together. She didn't remember.

"We talked about it this morning..."

"Oh," Arizona nodded. "Yeah. Sounds fun."

Callie pursed her lips. "You forgot. We don't have to..." she looked down at her plate, not wanting to give away her disappointment.

"No! Callie," she reached for her wife's arm. "I want to."

Callie looked up at her and nodded.

"Seriously."

"Great," Callie smiled genuinely. She had been looking forward to spending more alone time with Arizona. She had missed that.

After they finished eating, Callie and Arizona cleaned up the kitchen and did the dishes; then, they ambled into the living room to find something to watch. Arizona sat on the couch while Callie sorted through their DVDs. "Pretty Woman?" she asked. "Mr. & Mrs. Smith? Castaway?"

Arizona just shrugged, clearly still troubled.

Callie wanted to ask what was wrong, but she was scared Arizona would get defensive or accuse her of prying as she had been. So, she chose to ignore her unsettling demeanor.

"Your choice," Arizona finally said, hoping that the smile she plastered onto her face was believable.

"Castaway it is. You know how much I love Tom Hanks" Callie grinned.

Arizona tried to match it, but really, she was in pain. Lots of it. All she really wanted to do was sit on the cold floor of the bathroom with the mirror between her legs, but she couldn't. She needed to be a wife again, and that meant pretending that everything was okay.

Callie grabbed the remote and moved to sit beside Arizona, putting her arm around her.

Arizona sighed, one almost of relief. Somehow, the feeling of Callie's skin always helped. It always had. And, right now, it made the pain in her non-existent knee just a little less severe.

The pain began to subside as she focused on the movie and on Callie's arm around her. But, suddenly, his plane crashed. Oh, yeah. Arizona had forgotten about that.

"Shit," Callie muttered. She had forgotten about it, too. She didn't know what to do. Stop the movie? Comfort Arizona? Would Arizona think she was being overly concerned, again?

Arizona's eyes. Callie tried to look into them, but they had gone empty.

It had been a trigger, and Arizona was remembering.

The sound of sudden curses. The plane was swaying awkwardly. The pilot was yelling. They were all looking at each other confused, and then they started falling. Crashing. Hitting trees along the way, lighting fire to a wing, coming apart. Arizona looked behind her and saw the sky where Lexie had been. They were talking, and yelling, and screaming, and falling, and crashing.

And then,

nothing.

Nothing, until Arizona felt a pain so agonizing that she was certain that she had to be in Hell. No living human being could possibly live through a feeling like that.

Then she was screaming again.

She couldn't stop.

Then she was sitting up. God, how much it even hurt to move.

Then she was ripping apart her scrub pants to assess the damage.

Then she was staring at bone.

Arizona sucked in a shaky breath. Her leg hurt. Her. Leg. HURT. From her toes to her thigh. She felt shockwaves of pain through the length of her left leg. "Mmm," she yell-moaned before she could stop herself.

Quickly, the movie stopped, and Callie's hands were everywhere. "What do you need?!" she begged. "What can I do?!" God, how stupid she had been to choose to watch Castaway. She had forgotten about the crash part.

"Mirror," she mouthed.

"What?"

"Mirror. From. Our. Bathroom," she managed between mangled breaths.

"Right," Callie shot up, knowing immediately what her wife wanted. She ran to the bathroom, grabbed the full-length mirror off the wall where it hung, and rushed back to Arizona, who had removed her prosthesis and collapsed on the floor, waiting.

"Here," Callie offered, setting it between the blonde's thighs. Arizona quickly began flexing and moving her right leg, tricking her brain into thinking that it was actually her left leg and that she was just fine. Her breathing was labored and shallow.

Quickly, Callie scurried onto the couch, settling with one leg on either side of Arizona's body on the floor. She began kneading the tense muscles of her wife's neck and back, praying that it would somehow help her.

And, in conjunction with the mirror, it seemed to. After several minutes, she heard Arizona's breathing even out and her muscles finally relaxed under Callie's hands.

"I'm so sorry," Callie apologized meekly.

Arizona closed her eyes and continued to focus on her breathing. "It's okay. You didn't know."

"You'd think I would've remembered a detail like that. We've seen it dozens of times."

Arizona shrugged. "I know. Me, too. I guess it just felt so fictional and impossible before."

Callie bent down and kissed Arizona's hair. "This hasn't happened before, though, right? Usually you just get phantom pains at night."

Arizona hesitated. She didn't want to lie, but more than that, she didn't want Callie to see her like some poor, pathetic, PTSD-stricken patient. "Right."

Callie moved her hands up and down Arizona's tense arms and shoulders. "You wanna watch something else to distract you? Or go to bed?"

Arizona shut her eyes, trying to ward off any other unfortunate memories. She felt pain stab at her shin. Ouch. "Can we just...sit here. For a bit."

"Of course," Callie whispered. She grabbed a throw pillow from the other side of the couch and placed it behind Arizona's back, wanting to make her at least a little less uncomfortable. "We'll stay here for as long as you need."

HAPPY TUESDAY, FRIENDS! I'm getting sooo excited about Thursday's PTSD episode lskdfkjlssk;df. Hope everyone's good!