Title: Skinny Love

Author: MysteriousSwaggerOfScrubs

Pairing: Callie/Arizona

Rating: M

Summary: A haunting tale of wealth and power, love and loss. Are one night stands ever meant to last for longer than just one night?

Disclaimer: All television shows, books, movies, songs, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work and the characters, events, and settings thereof are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

AN: I have no idea when exactly I became so horrible at keeping up with writing and posting. I do apologize for another long wait, but I hope this was worth it. A big thank you goes to PalmettoCalzona for all of her help in writing this chapter; it wouldn't be finished right now if not for her. Also, thanks so much to all of you for all of your continued interest and support of this story. As always, I look forward to hearing what you think. Comments, questions, and reviews are always welcome. Thanks again!

AN2: I am posting this again because I think the email notifications may finally be working. Sorry, it is nothing new, but I hope to have the next chapter posted soon!


Forty-Five


Later that evening, with Lillian having dinner and then a sleepover with Tia Aria after their impromptu girls' day out, Arizona sat - alone - on the sofa in the family room, tired, cerulean eyes mindlessly flitting across the newspaper, her attention admittedly lost somewhere within the mishmash of thoughts inside her head as she read and reread the headlines of the Politics section of the New York Times for what seemed like the twentieth time since she had begun.

She just couldn't quite seem to wrap her head around all of this; she just couldn't quite reconcile the exact moment when she and Callie had gone so very wrong - how they had both made such blatantly incorrect and harrowingly disappointing assumptions.

As she pondered the events of the past two days, Arizona couldn't help but feel as if she was missing something. Yes, she knew bits and pieces of Callie's medical history; she knew the difficulties her wife had experienced prior to Isabella's conception, as well as the careful -albeit, futile - attention she had received all throughout her fateful pregnancy. But, as her medically educated mind began to further appraise the situation, Arizona knew there just had to be more.

Was Callie hiding something from her?

Was there more to the story than she had been told?

All of this just didn't quite add up. Callie was young; she was healthy, and it just seemed - to Arizona, at least - there had to be something, some doctor, somewhere could do to help Callie conceive and then successfully give birth to a stunningly miraculous and undeniably healthy child.

And, with her thoughts now racing, ivory hands slowly lowered the newspaper from where it had been propped up in front of her face, stormy, blue eyes calculating narrowing as the cogged wheels inside her head slowly began to spin before quickly starting to race at a mile a minute.

Uncharacteristically discarding The Times into a disheveled heap on the sofa cushion to her left, Arizona then bounced up from her seat before quickly making her way out of the family room in search of her wife.

The two women had spent much of their day in contemplative silence. After finally breaking down and explaining her actions to her wife, Arizona had then felt unexpectedly embarrassed and even slightly uncomfortable in Callie's presence and, with Lillian gone - having what Arizona could only assume was the time of her life with Tia Aria - that buffer the child could often create was missing, as well.

But, with a suddenly rejuvenated spirit at the thought of what she needed to discuss with her wife, Arizona now hoped to be able to talk to Callie - to express what she was thinking in order for them to devise a plan for just what they should do next.

Arizona had heard Callie aimlessly pecking at the keys of her beloved, grand piano just moments before, but not finding the other woman perched at the instrument's tufted bench, the blonde then made her way into Callie's favorite hiding spot - her exquisitely decorated, home office.

"Hey!" Arizona happily greeted as she entered the room.

But, ultimately finding the space completely void of human life, the blonde suddenly drew up short, her brow furrowing in careful consideration at the ominous vacancy of the room. "Callie?" she then called, quickly turning on her heel in order to continue her determined attempt at finding her missing wife.

And, starting down the hallway toward their bedroom, Arizona finally found the woman for which she had been searching; Callie's body was now clad in an oversized hoodie, black leggings, and Mizuno running shoes as she clearly prepared herself for an evening run.

"I'm going for a jog," Callie softly stated, meeting her wife halfway down the hall. "Be back soon," she vaguely continued, leaning forward to offer Arizona a chaste, goodbye kiss.

Swiftly grabbing at Callie's wrist before the taller woman could successfully escape their home, questioning, cerulean eyes worriedly met soulful, dark brown, the heartbreaking sadness Callie was currently feeling, now unmistakably reflected in those emotively brilliant pools. "I'll come with you. We can talk."

Ruefully shaking her head, Callie bravely battled against the tears she had been valiantly fighting to hold at bay since their discussion earlier that day. She had remained indomitably strong for Arizona throughout most of the day - up until this very moment to be exact - but, with her armor now threatening to completely crack, she really just needed to get away. "We've already talked, Arizona. I know where you stand on this issue. I. . ."

"Callie. . ."

Again shaking her head, Callie urgently pushed through. "I'm not mad, honey. Really. I'm not. I just. . ."

"Give me five minute to change," Arizona urgently insisted, already backing down the hall in the direction of their bedroom, an impishly determined grin lighting her face.

Letting out an impatient huff of discontent, Callie desperately wanted to tell Arizona no - to take some time for herself in order to clear her head - but, completely unable to deny her wife anything especially when she looked at her like that, the brunette's shoulders ultimately sagged in defeat, the slightest of smiles now gracing her own melancholy face. "You've got five minutes."


Casually making their way past the Friedsam Memorial Carousel located within the grassy confines of Central Park, Callie surreptitiously glanced sidelong at her wife, the blonde at her side looking straight ahead as they silently meandered their favorite walking path.

Callie couldn't quite put her finger on what Arizona was thinking; the now pensively smiling woman was so much different than the painfully sobbing one who had collapsed into her arms mere hours before. And, for that reason, Callie had been purposely keeping a slight distance between them. She didn't know what was going on or what Arizona could possibly want to talk about after the devastating finality that had clearly ensconced their conversation earlier that day and, in order to protect her own, already fragile heart, she hadn't allowed herself to reach out and hold her wife's hand as they walked.

But, knowing the brunette all too well, Arizona was very aware of what Callie was doing; every single time their hands had incidentally brushed against each other during their walk, the taller woman had inconspicuously - or so she thought - pulled away. But, no longer having any of that, the next time their arms gently swiped together, Arizona insistently grabbed onto her wife's hand, diligent, ivory fingers intimately entangling with those of caramel brown.

"Can we sit?" Arizona softly asked, gently pulling Callie to a gradual halt. "Just for a little while?"

Questioningly searching her wife's face, Callie wanted to say no - she really didn't want to talk about the topic of Arizona's complete lack of interest in carrying their child. "Can't we just keep walking? I'd like to be home before it gets too late," she weakly argued.

Coyly tipping her head to the side, Arizona momentarily remained silent, though her piercing, blue eyes plead with her wife to please just allow her a moment to speak. "It's barely 7:00pm, Callie. I promise to have you home by curfew," the blonde gently teased.

Rolling her eyes in response, Callie finally - reluctantly - acquiesced, ultimately allowing herself to be led away from the concrete path in the direction of a familiar wooden bench.

They had spent many evenings sitting on this very bench - sometimes with Lillian and sometimes without - sometimes for a brief rest during a run or a jog, other times remaining for a while in order to talk and enjoy their time spent together. But, this time, the air between the two women was visibly tense; Callie sat on the edge of the bench, her posture erect and uncomfortable, her hands tightly clenched as they rested in her lap.

And, as Arizona watched her wife who was currently looking straight ahead, the other woman's attention solely fixed on the now empty carousel, she knew she needed to be the first to speak. "I know you're upset with me, Calliope. I know you've pushed your own feelings aside in order to be strong for me, but. . ."

Ruefully shaking her head, Callie's sense of hearing suddenly became muffled, the remainder of her wife's sentence going completely unheard as her palms once again began to sweat, her chest to tighten, and her heart to race. These all too familiar symptoms had initially begun to overwhelm her body over an hour before and, when playing the piano hadn't succeeded in assuaging their wrath, she had then decided to go for a run. The brief walk she and Arizona had just embarked upon had briefly helped, but now - in the face of what seemed to be a completely hopeless conversation - Callie could again feel her body beginning to betray her, her stomach knotting and twisting into a nauseating lump.

"Please, Arizona. Can we talk about this later?" Callie breathlessly managed to get out before quickly popping up from the bench to anxiously begin pacing in front of her wife. "I just. . .I can't do this right now. I. . .I need to go. Can we please just go?"

Standing from the bench and making her way in the direction of her now visibly distressed wife, Arizona tenderly took Callie's hand into her own, once again pulling her to a stop.

"I think I can help, Calliope. I want to help," Arizona fervidly pressed on, completely unaware of the battle that was currently raging within her wife's form. "There has to be something I'm missing with all of this, and if you will just grant me access to your medical records, I'm certain I'll be able to figure it all out. For us, Callie. For our new baby."

Once again shaking her head, Callie suddenly - and completely unexpectedly - went on the defense, her already anxiously disoriented mind completely shutting off at the mere thought of her wife having completely unfiltered and unmitigated access to the medical documentation surrounding her entirely deficient and thoroughly unsuccessful attempts at motherhood.

"No, Arizona. Just no!" Callie angrily spat as she forcefully wrenched her hand from within her wife's delicate, ivory grasp. "You. . .you're not my doctor! I'm not your patient! You're my wife!"

And, with those strangely disjointed statements thickly hanging in the air around them, Arizona suddenly became very aware of just what exactly was going on, steely, blue eyes instantly going wide with unease and trepidation as the weight of Callie's body overwhelmingly collapsed into her arms.


"Calliope."

The sleeping brunette's eyes visibly moved behind the shroud of her eyelids but, as hard as she tried, Callie was completely unable to lift that thin, fleshy barrier of skin. A flock of flying monkeys was pounding on a giant timpani drum in the middle of her head, a ball peen hammer assaulting her frontal lobe, epically preventing even the slightest amount of problem solving or word finding skill. Neon lights flashed on and off; the ship she was on was currently being sucked into a whirlpool of lethargic confusion.

"Callie."

The first thing Callie was truly aware of was that she wasn't asleep in her own bed and, swallowing hard against the painful dryness in her throat, she urgently squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, thunderstorms still swarming about in her mind until the disjointed haze suddenly began to recede, reaching the point where she could finally make at least some sense of the world around her.

"Arizona," she hoarsely spoke, cloudy brown eyes slowly blinking open. And, even though the edges of her vision still flickered and danced, the center finally coalesced with the most gorgeous set of sky blue eyes she had ever seen.

Reaching out as she watched hazy, brown eyes slowly begin to focus, Arizona gently pushed dark strands of hair - that had escaped Callie's ponytail - away from a sickly ashen face, tremulous, alabaster fingers momentarily lingering to tenderly comb through wavy, brunette locks.

After Callie's sudden collapse, Arizona had somehow managed to gently lower herself and her wife to the ground beneath their feet. And, once she had frantically given the other woman her own cursory exam, assuring that the brunette was indeed still breathing, her heart still beating, Arizona had then hastily wrestled her phone from within the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt, immediately dialing for Jackson Avery or Andrew DeLuca - or whichever driver was currently available - to please come help.

Jackson had arrived at the scene first - coincidentally having been jogging in the area nearby - followed then by Andrew with the car. The three had then managed to get the intermittently cognizant Callie into the back of the vehicle, but - unfortunately - not before being spotted by several onlookers with their smartphone cameras poised and ready to begin snapping away.

Once in the car, Arizona had initially thought to take her wife directly to NewYork-Presbyterian's ER, but after being spotted - and recognized by several tourists and spectators, she really just wanted - and needed - to make sure her wife was safe within the confines of their home.

"I'm here, Calliope. I'm right here," Arizona softly stated, her stethoscope now dangling from her ears as she skillfully inflated the blood pressure cuff that now surrounded the bicep of Callie's right arm. From her position seated next to her wife - who now lay supine on the large sofa situated in the middle of the family room of their lofty, penthouse abode - Arizona worriedly watched the sphygmomanometer for the results. "Stay with me, Calliope."

Callie slightly nodded, though her eyes again fell shut. She could hear the fear present in her wife's voice and, knowing she needed to hit the reset button - to force her brain to reboot - she deeply inhaled before diligently exhaling via pursed lips.

"You scared the crap out of me, Calliope. Are you feeling okay, now?" Arizona worriedly asked, quickly tugging the stethoscope from her ears as the cuff began to deflate. "Still elevated. Damn it. I knew I should have just called 911."

With her self-awareness finally starting to kick in as she carefully listened to Arizona's nervously rambled thoughts, Callie listlessly began to piece together exactly why she was in such a state, a garbled projection of their walk through the park and their subsequent argument eventually moving in slow motion across the woven scrim of her mind.

And, suddenly forcing the fog that had overwhelmingly descended over all of her faculties to gradually lift, one neurologic sense at a time, Callie's eyes soon snapped open, the realization of what had happened - and where - suddenly hitting her full force. "Oh, God," she breathlessly gasped, quickly moving to sit up.

But, before she could manage to completely sit upright, two strong hands against her shoulders prevented her from making any further movement.

"Calliope, please lie down," Arizona gently beseeched, her tone stern, yet completely full of reverence and pure love for her wife. "Your blood pressure is currently through the roof, and I'm not comfortable with you getting up right now. So, just lie back and don't freaking move," she further instructed, clearly beginning to lose her cool.

Hearing the worried tremor in her wife's hastily sputtered words, Callie reluctantly nodded in acceptance before slowly easing her still pounding head back down onto a throw pillow set against the sofa's arm. And, keeping her eyes locked on those of concerned, cerulean blue, Callie suddenly realized that, at odds or not, the only person in the world who could ever possibly keep her grounded, in the confusing time period following an anxiety attack, was her wife.

And, as Arizona diligently continued to work, checking her oxygen saturation and then her carotid pulse, Callie couldn't help but fall even further in love with this woman - this doctor - who was currently offering her such loving care.

"How many people saw what happened?" Callie softly asked, suddenly breaking the silence that had befallen the room, tired, russet eyes continuing to follow Arizona's every worriedly adept move.

With a momentary pause as she thoroughly considered her response, Arizona valiantly attempted to keep her expression neutral as she reverently reached out to clasp Callie's hands within her own, internally battling with herself concerning just how much she wanted her wife to know. "Just a few," she vaguely replied, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders, her blue eyed gaze focusing everywhere but on the woman she loved.

Knowing her wife all too well, Callie sighed, her eyes slowly falling shut as she defeatedly shook her head. "Arizona," she discordantly stated.

Taking in Callie's still sickly pallor, Arizona really didn't want to have this conversation right now, but knowing she had to - aware of the fact that her wife needed all the details so that they could collectively figure out what to do - she gently rested her hand against the side of a sweat slick neck, the rapid thumping of Callie's pulse, greeting her palm. "Your heart is still racing, Calliope," she attentively stated, desperately trying to evade her wife's question - at least for now. "Why don't you let me take you to the ER?"

Again shaking her head, glistening, brown eyes slowly opened, revealing all the heartbreaking vulnerability Callie was currently feeling. "Please, Arizona. Please, just tell me."

Benevolently reaching out to gently brush a wayward tear that had slowly meandered its way down her wife's face, Arizona sighed, knowing she needed to do this. "There were some tourists in the park who may have seen you collapse in my arms. I can't be certain, but it's likely."

Arizona was desperately trying to keep her voice stoic and nonchalant, but Callie could see right through her vague, albeit honorable, attempt to keep the stress level at a minimum.

And, Arizona knew it.

"But, once Jackson, Andrew, and I finally got you out of the park and onto the street, I am certain several photographs were taken, along with a video of us getting you into the car."

With tired, chocolate eyes defeatedly slamming shut, Callie again shook her head. "Son of a bitch," she scathingly breathed.

Gently pressing her palms against the sides of Callie's face, Arizona lovingly leaned forward, briefly pressing the whisper of a kiss against tear moistened lips. "It's going to be okay, sweetheart," she earnestly spoke against her wife's trembling mouth. "I called Meredith. She's on her way over, and when she gets here, we're going to come up with a plan - a statement to make. I promise you, Calliope, we're going to figure this all out."


"We're going to say it was a migraine," Meredith casually informed, a wry grin adorning her face. "You told Arizona you weren't feeling well - that you had a headache and wanted to get some fresh air. On your walk through the park, your headache worsened. You experienced an aura - which, according to Arizona, can happen preceding or during a migraine," Callie's best friend further explained, glancing in Arizona's direction for confirmation that what she was explaining was indeed correct.

And, receiving an affirmative nod from the concerned looking blonde, Meredith then continued. "It caused you to temporarily have blurred vision, which led you two to sitting down on the bench. When your vision returned, you thought yourself well enough to make it home, however, all you remember upon standing up is literal mind-numbing pain. Then. . .darkness."

From her position - again seated on the edge of the sofa cushion where Callie still lay - Arizona vigilantly watched Meredith tell their tale with rapt attention. She and her wife's best friend and personal assistant had spent an hour concocting this story to feed the media and, hoping this would indeed assuage their voracious appetite for fake news and elaborately false claims against anyone in the public eye, Arizona had to admit this version of the truth sounded pretty damn real.

"The pictures and video have already made it to the news and social media, but I truly believe this story - this explanation - will nip all of that in the bud," Arizona honestly stated, her attention dropping from the woman seated in the wingback chair across the room to her still sickly looking wife.

"Of course they have," Callie sardonically groused with a self-deprecating roll of her eyes. Despite the story her best friend and wife had devised, she was still completely mortified by what had happened and wholly uncertain of how she was supposed to handle this sudden, not so favorable press.

"But. . ." Arizona earnestly attempted to redirect before Callie had time to further berate herself for something that was completely out of her control. "This story does nothing but paint you in a positive light, while staying as far away as possible from the fact that you suffered a panic attack."

Quietly pondering her options, Callie necessitously squeezed Arizona's hand, unwittingly seeking all the support she knew only her wife could give. And, repeatedly replaying the scenario over and over again in her mind - making sure that each detail of their cover story matched each detail of what had really taken place - she ultimately realized this was going to work. She was confident there were no holes in the story, that this made logical sense, and that no other conclusions could be drawn from this explanation.

"Okay," Callie finally relented with a crestfallen sigh. "I think this will work, but it doesn't at all diminish the fact that I really just want to crawl into a hole."

Lacing her fingers through those of flawless caramel, Arizona brought their joined hands to her chest, kissing Callie's knuckles before she spoke. "You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Calliope. Anxiety is serious, honey, and you shouldn't be embarrassed about what happened, no matter the cause."


Hours later, at just after 11:00pm, Callie still lay confined to the couch per her wife's orders, though the barrage of flying monkeys that previously had been hammering away at her temporal and frontal lobes had finally chosen to desist. Her left hand held tightly to the right hand of the woman she loved - the person who had proven to be her rock throughout this entire, harrowing event. But, in her left hand, Callie held something much more ominous, her iPhone's illuminated screen casting a faint, blue glow on her persistently pale face as her thumb swiftly moved against the touch screen, constantly scrolling her Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook feeds for gossip fodder about her incident in the park.

She had finally given Meredith permission to release a statement to the press regarding the unfortunate migraine she had suffered - with explicit instructions for her to please emphasize the fact that she was now resting at home under the care of her wife, Dr. Arizona Robbins, with the full intention of returning to business as usual once the symptoms of her headache finally subsided.

And, that is how the evening had gone, once the statement had been released, all venues of social media had immediately exploded, but now, nearly four hours later, the mentions of her name had finally decreased - becoming fewer and farther between - her name no longer trending on the internet, each refresh of her social media apps, no longer revealing dozens of new stories - both fake and real - about the current state of her marriage and her health.

"Thank God," Callie softly breathed, finally content that the public and the media had somewhat lost interest in her migraine and had returned to its regularly scheduled programming. This storm - at least the one she had some semblance of control over - had nearly passed, but briefly glancing over the top of her phone, she intensely took in the sight of her wife, suddenly becoming innately aware of the fact that another - perhaps even bigger - storm was still brewing, gathering potentially harmful momentum with each passing moment of silence.

Feeling a set of russet eyes boring holes into the side of her head, Arizona softly sighed, and without breaking eye contact with the journal article she had been staring at for the past twenty minutes, she softly spoke. "You feeling okay? Need me to get you anything?"

Shaking her head in response, Callie tightly squeezed the welcoming, alabaster hand that comfortably lay within her own. "I'm okay. Sleepy and still a little groggy, but okay," Callie honestly replied, knowing from experience that a very heavy and much needed sleep was the only thing that could truly make her feel better; she always slept like a rock - after the initial restlessness surrounding an episode like today finally wore off. It was the final reset her body needed in order to fully recover, but sensing that her wife was not exactly at ease with all that had happened - and all that had been said - Callie ultimately decided to meet that unease head on, benevolently offering Arizona an olive branch.

"Arizona," Callie softly called , her voice barely above a whisper. And, when the other woman finally looked in her direction, Callie smiled, wholeheartedly thankful for her wife's loving support. "Thank you. For today. You. . ."

Momentarily trailing off, Callie took a second to gather her thoughts - to compose her emotions enough to earnestly speak. "You were everything I needed you to be today, and for that, I will never be able to thank you enough. You are amazing, Arizona, and I love you so much."

With the slightest smile tugging at the corners of perfect, pink lips, Arizona purposefully closed her journal, a heavy sigh leaving her chest. "I love you, too, Calliope. So, so much."

Nodding her head in amicable recognition, Callie momentarily disentangled their hands - just long enough to wipe at the moisture that had collected at the corners of her eyes - before quickly resuming her previous position.

"I know we need to talk. I know you have questions - concerns - but. . .I just can't tonight, honey. I can't put myself back through all of that. Not right now," Callie tentatively admitted, feeling even smaller and more vulnerable than she had when all of this had commenced mere hours before. "I need sleep, and I need you. I know it's selfish of me to ask, but will you please come to bed with me? Will you hold me tonight, and we'll talk tomorrow?"

With Callie's every insecurity exposed and defenselessly laying bare, her plea nearly shattered Arizona's already fractured heart, the day's events having taken quite a toll on both of their emotions.

And, with attentively concerned, cornflower eyes profoundly gazing into the furthest recesses of Callie's soul - without hesitation - Arizona replied in the only way she possibly could.

"Come on. Let's go to bed."


The following morning, Arizona was the first to wake, her front still securely nestled against the warmth of her wife's back, her left arm still encircling an enviously curvaceous hip and waist. She and Callie had both slept like rocks, barely moving throughout the night, staying almost completely intertwined for the entirety of their sleep.

And, completely cognizant of the fact that Callie needed all the sleep she could possibly get, Arizona lovingly pressed a gentle kiss against the back of a tanned shoulder before carefully swinging herself around to sit up on the side of the bed. Then, assuring that her prosthetic limb was in place, she then quietly stood, wrapping a royal blue, silk robe around her slim frame before quietly making her way into the kitchen, perfectly content to busy herself making coffee and breakfast for herself and her wife.

As she worked, Arizona pondered the events of the past two days. She felt just as unsure about the future as she had the day before; she still couldn't believe how very quickly things had fallen apart before progressively - and unexpectedly - getting worse and worse.

It seemed as if it was only yesterday that she and Callie had been so happy, standing before all of their family and friends proclaiming their wedding vows - promising their lives to each other for all eternity. But, now, in the wake of such a disheartening and uncertain misunderstanding, every single aspect of their marriage seemed so unsure. That uncertainty felt like a guillotine hanging over her head - a sharpened, angled blade ominously looming over their future. She knew that soon that blade would come falling; what she didn't know was how deeply it might cut through their intricately woven bond.


An hour later, with the caffeine of two cups of coffee already pulsing through her veins, Arizona cautiously stepped up to the master bedroom door, two plates of delicious, homemade breakfast, along with a carafe of coffee and two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice currently resting on the tray she carefully held in her hands. And, upon diffidently pushing open the door to their elegant - albeit, comfortably cozy - bedroom, Arizona was pleasantly surprised to find that Callie was already awake.

With caramel hands tightly gripping the sides of her iPad and designer reading glasses perfectly perched atop the bridge of her nose, two worried, brown eyes transiently moved a mile a minute up and down the expanse of the device's screen.

"I made breakfast," Arizona happily informed, her tone light and full of hopeful anticipation.

Instantly looking up from her tablet at the sound of Arizona's voice, Callie lovingly offered the other woman a thoughtful smile. "Hey," she courteously stated, pushing herself upward with her arms in order to make herself more comfortable against the tufted headboard of their bed. "I was just checking - really quickly - to make sure no more news about me had surfaced since last night," she evenly stated, though the trepidation she was still experiencing in the aftermath of such a public soirée remained visibly etched across every last inch of her face.

But, resolutely clicking the home button at the bottom of her iPad, Callie then set it back on her night stand before finally taking a moment to truly look at her wife - to thoroughly take in the spread that Arizona had made for them to enjoy. "Wow. That looks delicious."

With a surge of confidence at the tone of her wife's voice, Arizona fully made her way into the room, gingerly setting the tray in the center of the mattress before carefully moving to sit on the bed, across from her wife. "Any new news?" Arizona curiously asked, jabbing a piece of cantaloupe with a fork before gently pressing it against the center of Callie's lips. "Here, Calliope. You need to eat," she tenderly demanded.

Deeply staring into the concerned, cerulean eyes of the woman she loved, Callie slightly opened her mouth, just enough to allow Arizona to successfully slip the fruit inside. "Thankfully, no," Callie vaguely answered, obediently chewing the sweetly flavored fruit. "But, I just keep sitting here wondering how the hell I let this happened. I hate being in the spotlight. That recent stupidity with Lauren was enough to last a lifetime."

Nodding her head in understanding, Arizona benevolently handed her wife a small glass of juice. "But, you're always in the spotlight, sweetheart. You. . ."

"Not like this!" Callie callously interrupted, causing Arizona to instantly draw back in surprise. And, completely careless of the crassness that still remained in her voice, Callie harshly continued to speak. "Not with really personal stuff. I may be out there, Arizona, but no one needs to know these kinds of things. Especially not this!"

Knowing deep down that she needed to be patient - that she needed to allow Callie some time to be angry and more than a little upset - Arizona gently set the juice glass to the side, now choosing to ignore the plates she had so carefully readied just moments ago. "Don't snap at me, Calliope," Arizona gently warned, momentarily looking away. "Not like that and not when I am simply trying to help."

Impulsively opening her mouth to argue, Callie quickly thought better of it, her demeanor briskly morphing from flippantly irritated to appropriately scorned. "Sorry. I'm sorry," she earnestly breathed, mentally berating herself for her sudden bout of temper as she ruefully shook her head. "I just. . .what am I going to do, Arizona? What are we going to do?"

Dutifully reaching out to take her wife's hands into her own, Arizona momentarily fiddled with the engagement and wedding rings that gorgeously encircled Callie's left ring finger, uncertain, cornflower eyes soon glancing upward to greet worried, dark brown. "People will lose interest, Callie. The statement you released last night makes sense and is completely plausible, so I don't think we have to do anything more where the public is concerned," she earnestly replied, her staunch support for her wife, adamantly unwavering. "But, I do think we need to figure out what happened. If we're going to prevent any future incidents, we have to pinpoint exactly why this happened," Arizona compassionately continued, blue eyes, desperately searching into the depths of Callie's soul. "What do you think?"

With a tell-tale look of uncertainty flashing across Callie's every last feature at the profound meaning deeply embedded within Arizona's response, Arizona momentarily looked away, worried that this was all too much. A good night's rest had certainly managed to restore the rosy complexion to Callie's previously pallid face, but she could just tell, from the desperation in those emotively soulful eyes, that maybe the other woman still wasn't ready to have this talk.

Maybe this was all still too much.

"I - I don't know."

Callie's feeble, somber voice gave a half-hearted, fabled, answer, though - deep down - she knew exactly what had brought this episode on. But not wanting to reveal to her wife - her confidante, her support system, her everything - what the true reason was, she completely and totally lied, too scared of the truth and the repercussions it might hold for their relationship.

But, knowing Callie all too well - knowing when she was lying and when she was telling the truth - Arizona disdainfully shook her head, knowing full well that her wife had just been completely dishonest with her. "Calliope, you know as well as I do that all of this happened because of our discussion about having a baby," she gently contended, her tone remaining soft, but holding an air of greater consternation.

Adamantly shaking her head, Callie disagreed. "No. I. . .I. . ."

"You have got to talk to me, Callie! You have to tell me when you're feeling this way," Arizona hurriedly interrupted. She was on a roll now, and she refused to allow her wife to back pedal - to try to make this out to be less than it actually was. "Had you talked to me - had I known you were already feeling anxious - I wouldn't have pushed you. I wouldn't have insisted on going with you to the park, and I certainly wouldn't have pressed the issue of you allowing me access to your medical records."

With white, hot tears welling in shocked, russet eyes, Callie found herself wholeheartedly surprised by the nature of Arizona's words. But, no longer able to fight it - no longer able to hide from the truth or to lie to her wife - she soon relented. "I know," Callie softly admitted, her voice hoarse with emotion. "But, I thought I could handle it. You were already so upset, Arizona, and I just. . .I didn't want to cause any more disappointment than I already had."

Overwhelmed by the brunette's tearful admission, Arizona found herself wholeheartedly saddened by Callie's continued - debilitating - insecurities, especially where she was concerned. "Callie, no. Nothing you have done could ever be a disappointment. You. . ."

Harshly tearing her hands from within her wife's grasp, Callie suddenly found herself wholly undeserving of any form of comfort. "Oh, really, Arizona?" she indignantly contended, quickly moving to stand from the bed. "I thought I crushed your dream."

Seeing the hurt look on her wife's face in the wake of her haughty remark, Callie unfortunately had to admit that it felt good to know that Arizona was just as upset by all of this as she was. And, then completely unable to stop herself - entirely unable to engage the filter between her brain and her mouth - she spoke the bitter words that had been weighing on her heart. "I mean, seriously, Arizona. What else have I missed? What other integral parts of our relationship have I ruined or overlooked? But, more importantly, how the hell did I let this happen?"

Callie's last question caused her own voice to crack, the last of her resolve ultimately crumbling into a million tiny bits as she bent over on herself, her hands roughly covering her face as a flood of tears relentlessly escaped the confines of her eyes.

Because. . .Callie Torres was scared.

She was worried that the foundation of her marriage was now shaken.

She was frightened that the woman she loved more than life itself wouldn't be able to move past the fact that she simply could not bear them a child.

She was scared that Arizona would finally see her as the failure she already believed herself to be.

But, to Callie's surprise, Arizona didn't shy away, instead, she remained adoringly steadfast, instinctively standing from the bed before devotedly and lovingly reaching out in order to capture her in an all-consuming hug.

And, gently stroking Callie's back in a surprisingly soothing pattern, Arizona did all she could to be the much needed shelter for her wife's bruised and battered confidence - her wounded and shattered heart. "Shh, sweetheart. Please don't cry," she compassionately beseeched. "Everything's going to be okay. We'll figure this out. I promise."

Upon hearing her wife's whispered assurances, Callie quickly removed herself from within the welcoming comfort of Arizona's embrace, now moving to rigidly sit at the edge of their bed as she astringently wiped the tears from her face. "Will we?" she acridly spat. "Because all we've talked about since our honeymoon is expanding our family, but - for some reason - you don't want to be the one to do it. And - as badly as I would love for it to be me - I can't. So, tell me. Arizona. Will we be okay?"

There was a harsh reality to Callie's words, but Arizona already knew this argument was coming. Deep down she knew that Callie was going to bring up their unspoken misunderstanding, and now it was up to her to assure her wife that everything - their future as a family and their lives as a whole - was going to be okay.

"Callie, listen to me. Please?" Arizona earnestly beckoned, trying with all her might to secure the attention of her wife who was quickly falling to pieces before her very eyes.

Seeing Callie like this was breaking Arizona's heart. The one thing she absolutely never wanted to do was disappoint her wife and, in a split second, Arizona suddenly realized exactly what she needed to do - precisely what she needed to say.

"Calliope. . .there isn't anything in this world I wouldn't do for you. Every single thing you have ever wanted in this life, I want to be the one to give it to you. Love. Devotion. A family," Arizona tenderly stated, gently sitting down next to the distraught woman before once again taking her hands into her own. And, when Callie didn't immediately bristle at her touch, Arizona took that as a sign that she needed to carry on. "I love you with everything I have, Calliope Torres - with everything I am. Each beat of my heart is for you and only you. So, if carrying a child for us will make you happy, then I will do it."

The selflessly heartfelt proclamation caught Callie completely by surprise, a fresh torrent of tears quickly brimming in her eyes.

"But. . .I need you to listen to me. I want you to think about something before you speak," Arizona pleadingly implored. "When you allowed Meredith to release that statement. . .who did you ask her to say was caring for you?"

Completely confused by Arizona's question, Callie briefly shook her head as she pondered every intimate detail of their fabricated ruse from the night before. "My wife?" she flatly inquired, the sheer uncertainty she was feeling, thoroughly obvious in her enigmatic tone.

Nodding her head in confirmation, Arizona once against wiped at the moisture that had haphazardly meandered a path down Callie's face. "Yes, exactly. Your wife. Doctor Arizona Robbins," she determinedly agreed, purposely emphasizing the doctor portion of her title. "I am a doctor, Calliope, and a very good one, at that."

With a caramel brow further furrowing in question, Callie had absolutely no idea to what her wife was referring.

"My area of expertise is babies, Callie. Babies and their moms. And, while I may not be a fertility specialist, I have an outstanding network of colleagues who are," Arizona further explained.

With realization suddenly setting it, Callie again attempted to distance herself from her wife, though strong, ivory hands successfully thwarted her halfhearted attempt. "It's no use, Arizona. I've seen dozens of doctors. Tons of specialists who have all concluded the exact same thing."

Nodding her head in acknowledgement, Arizona slightly shrugged her shoulders. "I know that, Calliope. I know you have consulted with the best of the best, but. . .you have never consulted with me."

With an ominous veil of silence quickly consuming the great expanse of the entire room, Arizona softly sighed, laying her heart and soul completely bare. "I meant it when I said I want to make your dreams come true. I know that expanding our family would make you happy, but I also know that you being the one to do it would send you over the moon," Arizona impassionedly explained, a tender right hand gently smoothing through unruly, brunette hair. "I have all the confidence in the world in myself and my colleagues, and I know I can make this happen for us. I know I can give you what you've always wanted. Please, Calliope. Please. . ,give me the chance to prove it. Let me help you. Let me help us."

With the weight of Arizona's words profoundly bearing down on already vulnerable shoulders, Callie internally debated on whether or not to put her trust into Arizona. As her wife, she blindly trusted her - there was absolutely no question of that - but, as her doctor, well, that was a completely different story.

But, Callie had seen Arizona work miracles before, so maybe. . .

Without uttering a single word, Callie slowly stood from the bed and, momentarily lingering to gaze upon a flawless, ivory face, she then slowly backed away before quickly retreating out of the sanctuary that was their bedroom.

Painfully watching as the love of her life disappeared from her view, Arizona inhaled a staggering breath, the melancholy desolation she was currently feeling, loudly catching in her throat. And, with each passing tick of the clock, Arizona became more and more devastated, completely certain that she had pushed way too far - that she had destroyed her wife beyond compare. And, just as she was about to stand, in order to track down the missing brunette, Callie dubiously reappeared in the doorway, an unfamiliar, silver laptop securely held tightly in her hands.

"Here," Callie vaguely supplied, abruptly extending the computer in Arizona's direction.

And, not entirely sure why it was being thrust into her possession, Arizona awkwardly - hesitantly - took the device into her own hands, judicious, blue eyes carefully searching distraught brown as Arizona slowly opened her mouth to question the preferred device.

"The password is my initials flowed by my birthdate," Callie quietly spoke before Arizona had the chance to speak. "Go into My Documents. There you'll find a folder entitled Personal. My records are all in there. Every last one of them - spanning the entirety of the past seven years," she rapidly informed, afraid that if she didn't get it all out at once, she might completely lose her nerve. And, then heading for their walk-in closet, she aimlessly grabbed at some clothes and a pair of shoes before hesitantly turning back in her wife's direction. "I trust you, Arizona, but I can't be here - not while you're here analyzing all of my failures."

"Callie. . ."

Tremulously raising her hand to halt any further remark, Callie effectively silenced whatever comment her wife was about to make. "I called Aria. I'm going to go spend the morning with her and Lillian, and then I'll bring our girl home this afternoon."

Quietly sitting, motionless on their bed, Arizona was surprised when Callie confidently moved toward her, wistfully pressing a shockingly passionate kiss upon her mouth.

But, just when Arizona was about to reciprocate - just when she was about to seek some much needed reassurance through the intimate joining of their lips, Callie quickly pulled away.

And, silently watching as her wife briskly made her way out of their bedroom and down the hall, Arizona sighed, her mind a hazy mess. But, when she eventually heard the definitive buzzing of their private elevator, signally Callie's hasty departure, Arizona once again found her senses, thoroughly giving the laptop one last, inquisitive look before cautiously opening its lid.

She was ready.

She could do this.

She was going to make this happen for them if it was the last thing she did.