Set sometime after S11.
The Friday after Richard and Catherine's wedding and an exceptionally long week, everyone was feeling the need to unwind.
In passing Arizona and Bailey, Alex offered, "Dinner and drinks tonight at Mer's. Tell everyone."
"I have Sofia!" Arizona quickly called after her friend.
"Bring her!" he exclaimed from down the hall, and then he was gone.
Arizona and Bailey looked at each other and shrugged. Bailey said, "Well, I'm not gonna turned down dinner. As long as Karev isn't cooking."
Arizona chuckled. "He's hopeless in the kitchen. See you tonight?"
Bailey nodded, and the two doctors went their separate ways.
Arizona made her way towards the open elevator, where she found that only Callie was standing inside. "Hi," Arizona chirped generously.
"Hey," Callie smiled. Finally, she and Arizona could function in the same room together, and she was grateful.
"Meredith and Alex are having a little dinner party with a bunch of us and the kids. Are you going?"
"Are you?" Callie was curious.
Arizona shrugged noncommittally. "I kind of have to. I'm living there until Meredith moves in, and you know how much Sof adores Zola."
"I do," Callie smiled. The elevator came to a stop on the orthopedics floor. "I guess I'll see you tonight, then?" She began making her way off the elevator as several people filed inside.
Arizona only nodded in response, as she offered a cordial close-mouthed smile. She no longer blamed Callie for walking out of therapy for the last time on that awful day, and it felt good to be able to communicate with no hidden hints of passive aggressiveness.
And finally, after three years of being depressed and riddled with PTSD, selfishness, and loss, Arizona recognized herself again. She could see the goodness in herself that had been absent for so long, and it made her see—made her remember—who Callie was at heart.
And who Callie was, was someone amazing. Miraculous, really. Deserving of—if nothing else—cordial moments with her ex-wife. In truth, she was deserving of everything. So, Arizona was doing her best to be kind. At this point, it was all she could do.
The day passed in a blur, and luckily, she was able to get home by five. "Go find Zola, okay Sof?" Arizona suggested as the two of them opened the door.
"You're here!" Meredith exclaimed, coming out of the kitchen. "Alex is stuck in surgery until seven, which is when everyone will get here! And I can't even warm frozen food without burning it."
Arizona could feel how swollen and blistered her leg was, but for tonight, she opted to ignore the dull, pestering pain. She laughed. "I'll help. What are we making?"
"Chicken? I also brought rice and materials for salad and roasted vegetables."
Arizona nodded solemnly, standing at the sink and washing her hands. "I can work with that."
"I'm so glad you're here," Meredith acknowledged gratefully.
The two women found an unfamiliar but comfortable rhythm—with Arizona taking over the more difficult task of cooking and Meredith chopping up vegetables and preparing a large salad.
"You sure you don't want to stay here when I move back in?" Meredith quirked an eyebrow teasingly. "I'm worried that the kids haven't been eating as well without Derek here to cook," she admitted truthfully.
Arizona gave her a sympathetic smile. Derek's death had changed them all, but she couldn't even begin to understand what it must have taken from Meredith. "You'll just have to keep inviting me to dinner parties, I guess. I'll help cook."
Meredith grinned. That she could do. She had never been close to Arizona, but with the plane crash and Alex's obvious reverence for her, she had never been able to dislike Arizona, either.
A little before seven, Alex rushed in, obviously frazzled. "Is everything almost ready?! Mer, did you burn anything?!"
"No, she did not," Arizona chided. "Everything is perfect, no thanks to you."
He scowled. "Whatever. I planned the damn thing."
Meredith rolled her eyes, but she was laughing. "Just let everyone in, okay? We'll pop open some wine and beers."
Bailey and Ben were the first guests to arrive, happily taking their seats on a couch while Tucker hurried upstairs to look for Bailey, his mother's namesake and his friend.
Soon after, Owen and Jackson walked in together.
"Dude, where's Kepner?" Alex asked, and Arizona's ears perked up as she waited for his answer.
"Stuck at the hospital," Jackson growled. Clearly, the two of them were still having problems.
By the time Arizona and Meredith exited the kitchen to greet their friends, everyone but Jo and Catherine were there.
"Please tell me Meredith didn't cook," Amelia said as Arizona and Meredith walked towards her.
Beside her, the generally kind Maggie couldn't help the small, knowing smile that sprouted on her face at that. She knew all too well that cooking wasn't her half-sister's strong suit.
Meredith rolled her eyes, and Arizona offered, "I cooked. But she made the salad, did all the cutting, and bought you sparkling cider."
At this, Amelia actually smiled gratefully at her sister-in-law. "I guess she warrants some appreciation then."
Meredith's returning smile was kind. As of a week ago, they had reached an understanding. They had forgiven each other. And now, though—god, Meredith was awful with sisters—they were working on becoming family to one another.
While Meredith began a conversation with Maggie, Arizona's eyes searched the room for the woman she was really looking for. Where was Callie? She was nowhere to be found.
She and Webber exchanged pleasantries, and she talked to Jackson for a few minutes, still seeing no sign of Callie. It was then that the pain in her thigh became more apparent, and she felt how much her prosthetic was chaffing with every step she took. She decided to quickly run up to her room and take off her prosthetic, just for a second, to massage her leg and take some Advil.
But, instead of finding her room empty like she'd expected, she found Sofia, Zola, Bailey, and Tucker playing, with Callie smiling as she supervised them.
"Hey," Callie greeted Arizona with a warm smile and sparkling eyes as the blonde stood in the doorway.
"Hey," Arizona smiled weakly, unable to completely mask her pain.
Still able to read her ex-wife like a children's book, Callie's face fell. "Hey, kiddos, Sofia's mom needs the space. Let's go terrorize Alex's room, instead!"
"YAAAAY!" the kids cheered, wasting no time running towards Alex and Jo's now nearly empty bedroom.
As Callie looked after them, chuckling and shaking her head, Arizona smiled at her genuinely. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."
Callie first waved her off, but concerned, she couldn't help but ask, "Is everything okay? Do you need anything?"
Arizona shook her head stoically. "I'm fine," she insisted. "If you want to go hang out with the grownups, I can take over watching the kids in a few minutes."
"I don't mind," Callie smiled easily. She moved to stand in the opposite side of the doorway, close enough that Arizona could smell her. God, she loved Callie's perfume. "I'll be down the hall with them if you need me to get you anything."
Arizona nodded gratefully. "I'm good, but thank you. Really," she added sincerely.
And Callie was almost surprised by the absence of irritation in Arizona's voice—which had, historically, been overpowering in matters of Arizona's leg. Since the details of the amputation had been revealed, though, said irritation had been entirely absent. There was only genuine appreciation in Arizona's voice.
Arizona closed the door behind her and quickly got to work removing her prosthetic, not wanting to miss much of the party downstairs.
Only a few minutes later, she felt better and walked towards Alex's room, greeting her ex-wife with a now much more relaxed smile. To the kids, she asked, "You guys hungry?" The consensus was a loud, overpowering, "Yes!" and she laughed. "Come on," she signaled them towards the hallway. "I think it's probably time for dinner." As the six of them ambled downstairs—Ellis was already down for the night—both Callie and Arizona couldn't help but think about Arizona's hyperbolic yet genuine words of commitment years before: We'll have kids. We'll have all kinds of kids...and I love you so much, and I can't live without you and our 10 kids.
Somehow, this moment—walking down the stairs after a gaggle of four happy kids— gave them both a lingering taste of how their lives could have been. And, like a chocolate truffle, the taste was decadently sweet but gone too quickly.
"Oh good," Meredith said as they all walked into the crowded living room. "You got them down here!" She turned to the guests. "Does everyone want to start making their way towards the table?"
Callie and Arizona occupied themselves with filling everyone's glasses, and by the time they had finished, only two seats were left: right beside each other.
Talk and chatter came easily between coworkers and friends, and everyone agreed that the food was amazing.
"Mm," Callie nearly moaned between bites. "Who made the chicken?"
From beside her, Arizona raised her hand. "That'd be me."
Callie turned to her, impressed. "I should've known. I've always loved your chicken."
"Thanks," Arizona blushed. She couldn't get over how happy she was about how well she and Callie were getting along. It had been a long journey to get even here.
After the long meal, everyone moved back into the living room, chatting comfortably and merrily with one another. Eventually, the most worn out doctors headed home, and only Meredith, Alex, Callie, Arizona, and Jackson were left: friends who had lived through shootings, car crashes, plane crashes, bus explosions, and a handful of deaths together.
"Is April going to stop by?" Arizona asked Jackson during a lull in the conversation.
Everyone remained silent, wondering how their friend was still stuck at the hospital.
Jackson just shrugged, clearly annoyed with his wife from his tone. "Who knows. I'm trying. I'm trying to follow your advice. I'm trying to let her 'learn to walk again,' like you said, but..." he shook his head.
"Wait, what?" Callie interjected, speaking for them all. What were he and Arizona talking about?
Arizona's eyes widened, but before she could assure Callie that it was nothing, Jackson said, "Arizona just told me that I needed to give April the patience and space to figure stuff out." He paused. "The space to find herself again—or whatever— and then hopefully come back to me."
Meredith and Alex nodded at him in understanding, but Callie had a strange look in her eyes. Knowing, maybe, so Arizona quickly added, "I just, you know, mentioned that April went through a trauma and..." Arizona stopped short. She wasn't sure how to explain what her thought process was without revealing that, in many ways, she was doing the same thing with Callie: giving her a chance to find herself again. To find happiness again.
Until she did, Arizona was waiting: in the background, far to the left, but still in the picture. She was waiting for Callie to be happy again, and maybe—someday—to look for happiness with Arizona again.
Because Arizona could be happy with Callie forever. That she knew.
She could find happiness with someone else, sure, but it wouldn't even compare to how happy she could be.
If Callie wanted her again one day, that is. And if they learned to trust each other and communicate.
It was a long shot, Arizona knew, but she was waiting anyway. Like Jackson, she was waiting for Callie to heal.
But Callie didn't need to know that. Callie shouldn't know that. Right?
"A— And—" Arizona continued to babble, looking for more to say as she avoided Callie's pensive, squinted eyes across the room. Shit. She turned back to Jackson. "You love April, and you're trying to give her the time to find herself again. It's all you can do."
Jackson nodded, eyebrows furrowed and piercing eyes intently looking at the carpet.
Carefully, Arizona glanced at Callie, finding that her ex-wife was still staring at her in question.
Arizona needed to get out of there. "I'm going to get another beer! Anyone else want one?"
Alex lifted his still half full bottle in the air. "Me."
Arizona looked around the rest of the room for answers, and Meredith said, "Just bring a bunch out. I'm sure we'll drink them." Arizona nodded and hurried towards the kitchen, desperate to escape Callie's knowing eyes. Once there, she focused on slowing her breathing, pacing back and forth beside the counter.
This was dumb! It was all dumb.
What was wrong with her?
But before she could figure it out, she heard the sound of steps in the doorway and looked up. Callie. Of course.
"What happened with those beers?" Callie joked, attempting to lighten the mood and ameliorate Arizona's obvious anxiety.
"Hah," Arizona attempted to laugh, riffling through the fridge for the beers. Now that Callie was here, Arizona needed to get back out there.
Callie came up behind her—so close—and closed the refrigerator door, insisting on Arizona's full attention. She crossed her arms, and Arizona looked anywhere but at her.
"Is...that what you've been doing?" she asked. Point blank.
"Wh— What are you talking about?" Arizona feigned ignorance. She knew damn well what Callie was talking about.
"You know what I'm talking about. What you said to Jackson...Is that what you've been doing? Letting me, you know, metaphorically 'learn to walk again?' Is that why you've been keeping such a distance?"
Arizona sighed in defeat, looking down at the linoleum floor at her feet. "Callie...I..." she paused, shaking her head. She didn't know what to say, how to defend herself. Because how could she? Callie was right.
And Callie realized that her questions were futile. She knew she was right. Her eyes widened as she thought about the time since their divorce. As she took in this new information.
It changed things, didn't it?
Arizona just stared at her nervously. A part of her wanted to run far, far away. But another part of her desperately wanted to know what Callie was thinking.
Callie watched as the blonde reached up and began fiddling with her blouse's collar, reaching for a necklace that no longer had a home around her neck.
"All this time..." Callie finally continued, "I thought you stopped loving me. I thought that was why you just let me walk away, and that was why haven't made any effort to...I don't know...work things out since."
Arizona released a shaky breath, her eyes suddenly filling with raw emotion. "No." The tiny word was a gentle, forlorn whisper in the silent room. She shook her head and swallowed hard. "I never stopped. I could never stop. And I never will."
Callie's expression smoothed out as her ill-concealed elation overtook her face.
Arizona loved her. Arizona still loved her.
"But, Callie," Arizona murmured; she raised her shoulders in defeat. "Knowing this...it shouldn't change anything. I don't want you to feel pressured into something you don't want. I caused you so much pain, and...you deserve to be happy. I don't want to suffocate you, again. I don't want our problems to kill you slowly, again. I want you to keep feeling free." She felt goosebumps line her arms. She felt sick to her stomach, wanting to screech in agony the way her Peds patients with inflamed appendixes always had.
She hurt. Physically hurt. Not being with Callie, not being able to openly love Callie...it hurt.
But, she loved Callie. More than anything, with the exception of Sofia. And loving someone that much meant putting them first. Just as Callie had put Arizona first after the plane crash. Just as Callie had, in part, sacrificed their relationship and marriage to make sure that Arizona would be okay, with or without her. To make sure that she would have someone when she was too angry with Callie to be able to count on her.
Callie had given her Alex. Callie had done everything she could to make sure Arizona would recover after her trauma. She had forgiven her for countless transgressions.
It was Arizona's turn to think about Callie, instead of herself. It was Callie's turn to heal.
Callie closed her eyes tightly, feeling an overwhelming urge to violently combat Arizona's words. Her ex-wife couldn't be more wrong. "I only felt stuck because you felt stuck, and you were scared to say so. You wanted a six month break, remember? Maybe longer. You wanted out! And we kept repeating the same patterns, again and again. My biggest nightmare was to live without you, but it was the right thing to do."
Arizona took several deliberate steps towards the kitchen island. She set her elbows on the counter and put her head in her hands.
Callie was quiet. In the weeks before the divorce, Callie would have insisted Arizona reply immediately and storm out of the room when she wouldn't. But, now, she waited, patient.
Finally, Arizona looked up in surrender, her face red and haggard. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't deny it. "I did feel stuck."
Callie inhaled sharply. The information was old news, but hearing Arizona admit it made it feel more real, somehow. "Yeah," she breathed. "Me, too."
Arizona nodded. "I didn't feel good enough for you. Ever," she confessed.
At that uncharacteristically brazen admission, all Callie wanted to do was wrap her arms around the blonde and assure her that she had always been good enough and would always be good enough. That she was the best there was.
But it wasn't her place, and before the urge could completely consume her, Arizona continued, "And I cheated on you."
Callie felt her stomach clench. She'd accepted what happened, she'd forgiven Arizona, but those words never became easier to hear. "I didn't think you loved me enough," Callie admitted.
Arizona raised her eyebrows, obviously surprised by those words. She couldn't fathom how Callie could think that. She lived inside herself, and she knew how her love for her ex-wife had consumed her. It always had.
"You cheated on me," Callie explained. "You were supposed to love me—only me—and you had sex with two other women."
Arizona bit her lip painfully as the first tear fell.
"I forgave you, I did," Callie assured her. "But I just...I still don't understand. Did you just...stay with me because you were scared? Because you obviously weren't happy."
Arizona sighed. She had spent a lot of time soul searching, but now, none of her responses felt good enough. Callie deserved a concrete, forgivable reason, and Arizona couldn't supply that. Many things had led to her infidelity: some internal, and some completely out of her control.
"Why wasn't I enough for you, anymore?"
"Calliope, you were always enough for me. My thing with Boswell...it had nothing to do with you. It was just everything. You know how bad everything was that month. For us both."
Callie nodded. She remembered. The nightmares. The depression. The one-year anniversary of the plane crash and then of Mark's death.
The miscarriage.
But, while Callie had found comfort in Arizona and in her work during the difficult time, Arizona had found it in another woman.
Callie had said that she had forgiven Arizona, but she was clearly still upset by it. Which meant, Arizona realized, that Callie had placed the blame on someone else, instead: herself.
"You were enough. It wasn't your fault. After the plane crash, you did more for me than anyone else ever would have. The cheating was on me. I did this. I hurt you; it was my fault."
Callie inhaled a deep breath, attempting to absorb Arizona's words.
"I loved you so consumingly. In a way I'll never be able to love anyone else," she looked down at her hands resting on the counter in front of her. "I did a terrible thing, and you had nothing to do with it, but you were the one who suffered most."
"Yeah," Callie tried to chuckle, but instead what came out was a dry sob.
"And Leah was just there. I missed you, and she was there."
Callie nodded. Leah made more sense to her. Callie had made her think they were on their way towards divorce, after all. Callie had thought that they were. And, yes, it was true that Arizona hadn't tried to fight for them, to attain Callie's forgiveness until far later, it was clear (and it always had been) that she had been in a bad place.
Now she wasn't. And she was fighting for something, right? If not for long term love, then at least for Callie's understanding. That was still something.
"Why didn't you feel like enough?" Callie asked, her eyes fixed on the blonde.
Arizona pursed her lips before speaking. This wasn't easy. Being open, sharing her feelings—that had never been easy. "You kept trying to fix me. To get me on crutches, to get me a prosthetic, to get me walking, to build me a robotic leg. I thought...I thought you didn't think I was enough after the crash, with a part of me missing."
With her sharp intake of breath, a tiny sympathetic "oh" escaped Callie's pained mouth. Poor Arizona.
"And you were so angry! I tried to apologize or cheating, again and again, even though I couldn't quite understand it. And I didn't feel sorry at first. And you said you forgave me, but you kept using it against me. I felt like I owed you. Like, because you forgave me, I had to bend, again and again, giving up what I needed for you."
She fearfully met Callie's eyes, expecting her characteristically bullheaded, defensive ex-wife to fight her. To state all the reasons Arizona's feelings were wrong.
She didn't, though.
She'd grown, clearly. They both had.
"I'm sorry," was all Callie said at first. "I'm so, so sorry."
Arizona's face flushed at the care and pity in Callie's voice. "We both made mistakes."
Callie shook her head, eager for Arizona to hear her. "Look at me," she insisted.
After a few moments of hesitation, Arizona looked up.
Callie intensely held her gaze, trying to communicate with her eyes until she stated, "You are always enough."
Arizona rolled her eyes, not up for a rousing and disingenuous pep talk.
"Hey," Callie insisted, reaching out and touching her hand from the other side of the island counter. "You are more than enough. You are the most incredible person I have ever known."
At that, Arizona scoffed in disbelief, but Callie's expression didn't change, and her brown eyes never strayed from Arizona's baby blues.
"I mean it," Callie insisted. "I hate that I made you question that. Because: You. Are. Enough. Okay?"
Arizona nodded, finally really hearing her ex-wife. "And I'll keep loving you. Because my love for you has never been in question. You are the one love of my life." She paused, just taking in Callie's perfect soft features. She used to have her skin memorized, but now, so close, she saw that the worry line between her eyebrows had deepened, as with the almost imperceptible wrinkles on the outside of her eyes.
Callie felt her heart beat faster at Arizona's words: overworking. She'd ached to hear those words forever, she was now realizing. She couldn't help the look of wonder that overtook her face. Because, man, despite everything, she still couldn't comprehend how this wonderful, beautiful human could love her as absolutely as she now seemed to.
"And I used to think that nothing else mattered," Arizona continued. "That love was enough. But other things matter. Your happiness matters. It's more important, so I'm not going to ask. I'm not going to ask you if we can try again, because I know you might say yes. I want you to feel free. I want you to be happy. Even if it's with someone else. Even if it's without me."
But, at hearing those selfless words, at hearing the action behind it, something clicked in Callie. Everything clicked into place. It was as if her life—her relationship with Arizona—were surreally placed before her.
She saw truth. She saw it all.
She loved Arizona. Arizona loved her. They were so in love with each other.
And they both knew now that relationships were built on more than love.
They needed trust. And, before the night began, Callie had trusted Arizona with everything but her heart.
Now, Callie trusted her entirely.
Arizona had trusted Callie more than anyone in her life, until the amputation.
And now she knew the truth.
They needed to communicate. And they had. Tonight, in Alex's/Mer's kitchen, they'd managed to divulge it all, breaking through the fear and insecurity in search of understanding.
They hadn't interrupted one another once.
And, finally, they needed the patience and perseverance to commit to each other, to commit to trying, for the rest of their lives together.
Callie felt committed. She loved this woman, no matter how much she tried not to; no matter how much she tried to fight it.
And Arizona had just admitted to how much she loved Callie.
What did they have to lose?
"Ask," Callie breathed.
Arizona's eyes widened in surprise. "Callie..." she pleaded.
"Ask me," Callie repeated, stronger now.
Arizona shook her head, indignant. "I can't. You're happier without me."
"Arizona," Callie insisted. "Please."
Arizona widened her eyes, silently pleading for Callie to stop making this so hard. "Trying again...it's not a good idea."
Callie purposefully walked around the counter, closer and closer to Arizona until she was standing right in front of her, mere inches away.
Arizona could smell her, and she felt dizzy. She looked up and met Callie's magical big brown eyes.
Callie looked deep into Arizona's eyes, her own gaze unwavering.
"You are the love of my life," she finally proclaimed, her words strong and unquestionable. "And being with you makes me happy." As she realized the absolute, complete truth in her words, her eyes watered. Arizona made her happy.
Arizona shook her head, still somehow unwilling to believe it. She had given Callie space to learn to walk again. Was it possible that enough time and healing had passed, and Callie was really walking home to her?
"Ask me again, Arizona," Callie murmured.
Arizona took a deep breath. She felt her hands shaking. She felt everything shaking. She closed her eyes momentarily, gathering her thoughts.
"Calliope, I love you now, I loved you then, and I'll love you, forever. You make me happy, and I want to make you happy, forever. Can we please try again?"
At those words, Callie felt her entire body erupt with songbirds. Her skin was tingling, from the top of her head to the tips of her fingers and toes.
A dazzling smile sprouted on her face before she had even realized it. She couldn't wait to pull Arizona into her arms.
She couldn't wait to fight with her, and cry with her, and laugh with her, and love with her—hopefully forever.
"Yes, Arizona," Callie's voice caught in her throat, and she cleared it. Her eyes sparkled as she poured all her love into that one meaningful word. "Yes."