What happened when Arizona got home after the plane crash. (9x02)

Callie had barely left the conference room in four days.

Callie. Had barely. Left. The conference room. In four. Days.

She couldn't. She couldn't do anything else. Her wife and best friend were on a plane. They were on a plane. And it crashed. They were on a plane and it crashed and they might be dead. There was a very real possibility that they were dead. Her wife and her best friend might be dead. Sofia's father and one of her mothers might be dead.

This was her reality, so she had barely left the conference room in four days.

Neither had Owen. Or Alex. Or Richard. They were all just there. Waiting.

Thankfully, Callie's dad had come into town to watch Sof because Callie couldn't stand just waiting for news at home. She couldn't think straight in the empty apartment.

At least here she would hear news as soon as it came. The phone was here. Owen was here. She would know as soon as they were found. If they were found. And if they were found alive.

Owen hit things. Callie hadn't even seen him when he first heard the news. But, by the time she had gotten there, the conference room window was already broken and all the chairs were overturned.

Webber hadn't heard yet. Alex, who had come and told her the news, guided her in. She couldn't even see straight. She couldn't think. She just kept whimpering. She couldn't stop.

"Hey," Alex greeted Hunt.

Owen turned around. His hands were pulling out his hair. He looked haunted. He took them in: Alex looked exhausted and Callie was wearing a bathrobe and slippers over something lacey.

"Have you heard anything else?"

"No," the Chief replied simply. "Nothing."

Callie began whimpering louder.

"Well, what did Boise say?" Alex wanted answers.

"They said they never got there. They didn't make it. The plane must have..." he began.

"But they're looking, right? They're sending a search team?" Alex tried to stay calm, but his voice was strangely loud and high pitched.

"Yeah," Hunt nodded maniacally. "They're searching. They're looking. But..."

"But WHAT?" Alex screeched. He wanted to punch the wall. He wanted to kill someone with his bare hands.

"But...They're not optimistic. It's a lot of forest to cover."

Callie let out a wail of pain before continuing her incessant whimpering.

Owen looked at Callie and sighed. "Torres..." He began. "We have to believe they'll find them. We have to believe that they'll be okay."

"Come on," Alex guided Callie over to a chair as he stood it upright. "Sit," he instructed.

Callie sat. She couldn't even look at him. She couldn't look at anything. She looked straight ahead, into thin air.

Alex sighed and began pacing. "Okay, so it's been, what? Six hours? If the crash wasn't bad, then they're fine! They'll be fine!"

"If."

Alex looked toward Owen, looking into his vacant, bloodshot eyes. Decisively, Alex shouted, "We have to do something! I can't just sit here on my ass. Let's go and find them!"

Owen shook his head. "It won't do any good. We have no idea how to search hundreds of acres of land. We'll go meet them once we hear news. If there's reason to." What he meant was, "if anyone survived."

Alex huffed.

Callie whimpered.

The phone rang; Owen picked it up as soon as he heard it. "Seattle Grace," he answered, his voice a lifeless monotone. His shoulders tensed.

Alex and Callie stared at him with wide eyes: waiting.

"You guys are looking? Have you found them?!" He paused, putting his head in his hand. "You're moving quickly right? You're going to keep looking until you find them?" He paused again, sighing in relief. "Call back as soon as you find anything." He hung up.

"DAMNIT!" He threw the phone off the table with all of his strength.

"HEY!" Alex warned. "Stop! We need that!"

Callie began to sob. "Torres..." Alex began, putting his hand on Callie's back.

They barely left the conference room in four days.

Arizona had kicked Alex off all surgeries before she left, so he had nothing to do, and Callie was not in the mindset to perform surgery. Owen, who still had to be the Chief, rescheduled all of Callie's surgeries for a week later and dealt with all traumas himself.

Callie couldn't help him. She couldn't even speak. She hadn't said one word during those four days, just sat in a corner in the fetal position, rocking back and forth and whimpering. Webber attempted to use his fatherly wisdom to calm her down, but nothing worked. She couldn't hear anything, see anything. All she could do was think about Arizona.

Finally, on the fourth day, the phone rang again. Owen sprang up to grab it.

"We found them," Owen heard on the other side of the line.

"Are they...?" Owen began. He didn't know what he would do if Cristina were dead. Surely, he wouldn't survive.

"They're alive. All but one." Owen's breath hitched as he waited.

"Wait. Hold on," the woman was talking to someone around her. "Lexie?" She paused. "They say it's Lexie. She didn't make it."

Owen's shoulders slumped. He felt like he was going to explode. He was so, so relieved that Cristina was alive, but he was so heartbroken to hear about his most promising resident's death.

"We're flying them to Boise right now; they're dehydrated and have lost a lot of blood. A few...aren't doing so well. They're barely hanging on. We'll have to see."

"Just keep. Them all. Alive!" Owen managed. "I'm getting on a plane now. We'll help you all assess before we take them home." Quickly, he hung up, looking up at everyone gathered around the room: Webber, Bailey (who was holding Zola), Karev, Avery, Kepner, and Torres, who was still curled up on the floor.

"They're alive. Everyone except..." he paused. He couldn't say it. "Everyone but Lexie."

His words hung in the air. No one could breathe. They didn't know whether to be anguished or relieved. It could have been so much worse, yes, but Lexie...

Suddenly, the world continued turning, as Bailey and Kepner began to cry.

Owen continued, "They're on a helicopter to Boise; they have some pretty bad injuries and might not make it coming all the way out here. I'm going to go meet them."

"I'm coming, too," Webber insisted.

"So are we," Bailey croaked, hugging Zola closely to her.

Owen turned toward Callie. She still hadn't moved. "Callie?" he approached her mewling form slowly and gently. He didn't know what to do. "Do you want to go see them with us?"

Callie just kept rocking back and forth. She was in shock.

"I'll stay with her," Alex offered. It was the least he could do.

"Okay." He turned to April and Jackson. "Get some beds ready and make sure we have blood. We'll be back in a few hours." And, with that, he, Webber, and Bailey were out the door.

The only people left in the sad, stale room were Alex and Callie, glued to their respective corners. Alex turned to Callie. "Cal, did you hear Hunt? They're alive. Robbins and Sloan are okay."

Callie couldn't respond. It still hadn't sunk in.

Alex sighed and moved toward Callie, sitting beside her. There, they stayed: waiting for more news about their surviving friends.

It took hours for it to come.

Finally, the phone rang. Alex grabbed it. "What?!"

"Everyone's still hanging on. We're sedating them and getting on a plane home. We'll see you guys in half an hour. Be ready. Get Callie ready! Arizona's going to need her."

Alex began to question Hunt further, but he was interrupted.

"We gotta go. Assemble a team to wait by the entrance. Be ready!" he repeated.

Alex put down the phone and looked over at Callie. Her whimpering had finally stopped, but she was still catatonic. "Torres," he said softly. She didn't move. He continued, "They're coming home now. We've gotta go get ready, get you some scrubs."

Callie didn't even acknowledge him. Alex sighed. This gentle approach wasn't working for either of them.

Finally, he edged closer to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"TORRES!" Alex tried to break her out of her stupor. "They're thirty minutes out; you need to pull yourself together!"

Callie looked at him, finally. "They're coming?" she croaked.

"They're coming." Alex repeated.

"Arizona?"

"She's coming, and she's going to need you. Let's go get you some actual clothes." Callie was still wearing her skintight lingerie set beneath her robe.

Callie began nodding; she couldn't stop. "She's coming. She's coming. She's coming."

Alex lifted her to her feet. "Yeah, they're all coming, and they're going to need us to be the strong ones. Can you do that?"

Callie nodded, more aware now.

"Okay, come on."

Quickly, Callie showered and changed, and Alex waited for her. Usually, they wouldn't be spending so much time together, but they had to support each other now. They shared their love for Arizona; she was both Alex's teacher and Callie's wife.

"How is she?" Callie asked, now coherent as she walked through the sliding double doors into the cold afternoon air. There was already a team waiting.

"I don't know; Owen didn't say. He just said she'd need you."

Callie took a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay. I'm ready."

Alex crossed his arms. He wasn't sure if he was.

They heard sirens in the distance. This was it.

As soon as the trucks pulled up, Owen was yelling orders. "This is Sloan! Get him into a bed and check his vitals! Keep him intubated. Get him on oxygen. He's nearly comatose."

Callie wasn't even listening to Owen. She couldn't even hear about her best friend. She needed to find Arizona.

Amid yelling about Cristina, Owen caught Callie's eye. He looked toward the other truck. Everything was chaos; people where everywhere. "Robbins!" he shouted in the blonde's general direction, "Callie's here."

Without thinking, Callie ran toward where Owen had been facing. "Arizona?!" she called. "ARIZONA?!"

"Callie?" Arizona attempted to call back, but her throat was still dry. She was barely audible.

"ARIZONA!" Callie spotted her from ten yards away and sprinted to her gurney. Arizona's face was bruised and bloodied, and she was trying and failing to sit up with her elbows as she searched in vain for her wife.

As Callie raced toward Arizona, she yelled "MOVE!" at everyone, as she pushed through all the people who were in her way. Arizona finally saw her as she neared, her breath catching. She was so relieved. Callie was here. Everything would be okay now. "Cal—" she began.

Callie finally reached Arizona and wrapped her arms tightly around her, holding her weight. Arizona dry heaved, almost sobbing but unable to actually cry because she was so dehydrated.

"You're here," Callie breathed, running her fingers through her wife's hair, which she noticed was bloodied and matted down against her head. Still, her wife was alive and in her arms. This was all she had asked for. That Arizona would make it back safely. And she had. "You're here," she repeated. She felt like she was in a dream. Or a nightmare. She was just so thankful that her wife was alive.

"Torres," Owen interrupted, "We need to get her into a bed. We need you to help with the femur injury, too. We have a short window to try and do something."

Confused, Callie released Arizona and actually took a good look at her. She pulled back Arizona's light blanket, revealing a bloody mess of exposed muscle and bone. She sucked in a deep breath. "Oh, sweetie."

Arizona lay back, too exhausted to even support her own weight. She gulped, "They wanted to amputate. But they're wrong, so I told them to take me to you. That you'd know what to do."

Callie struggled to find her voice. She looked at Arizona. She needed to be strong for her. It was her turn to be strong. "I don't want you to worry, okay? We'll fix this. I'll fix this." Her mind began to race, thinking of what she could possibly do to salvage her wife's mangled leg. It was one of the worst leg injuries she'd ever seen in her entire career as an orthopedic surgeon, which was saying something. It was bad, but her wife needed her. She could fix this. She had to.

She shook her head. Now was not the time to think about all that. "Come on," she grabbed the side of the gurney, pulling her wife toward the doors to the ER. "You will be fine, okay? We'll fix this. But for now, let's get you inside."