Enantiodromia
Enantiodromia (Greek: ἐνάντιος): a principle introduced by psychiatrist Carl Jung that the superabundance of any force inevitably produces its opposite.
Set post-12x23. Not speculation. I know the finale won't go this way. Just something hopeful.
With the rain pouring outside, Arizona began throwing piles of laundry into the washing machine while she waited for Sofia to get ready for bed and pick out a book for them to read. She paused, however, when a little doll fell out of the pocket of her daughter's purple sweater.
Upon closer inspection, she immediately realized that it was the very same one Sofia had been eyeing at the toystore earlier that day—and the one Arizona had refused to buy.
"Sofia…" she began uneasily.
All ready for bed and entirely unsuspecting, Sofia skipped towards the sound of her mom's voice, then stopped short as soon as she saw her face and the doll in her hand. She felt her face bleach white.
"What's this?" Arizona's voice remained even—eerily so—and it made Sofia gulp, dreading the scolding that was inevitably coming.
And, instead of facing trouble, she opted to run. She turned around, rushing into the downstairs bathroom and slamming and locking the door behind her. "It's nothing!"
"Sofia!" Tossing the doll on the counter, Arizona hurried after her, unsuccessfully attempting to open the bathroom door. "Sofia, unlock this door," she demanded.
From her safe haven inside, fully-clothed in pajamas and sitting down in the dry bathtub, Sofia argued, "NO!"
She knew it was wrong to steal, but she didn't want to get in trouble. She wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling guilty wet tears stream down her cheeks.
Hearing the tears in her daughter's voice, Arizona worked at softening her tone. "Sofia, please. I'm not going to yell at you, but we need to talk about this." She couldn't believe that Sof actually had stolen something. Her recent behavior definitely hadn't been as good as usual, and she had acted out here and there, but stealing? What the hell had gotten into her?
On the other side of the door, Sofia continued crying. "I don't want to!"
"It'll be okay," Arizona promised. "Come on, sweetie. Please unlock the door."
"No!" Sofia sassed.
Noting her Good Cop tactic was proving to be largely ineffectual, Arizona tried another approach. "Sofia Robbin!" she chided, even as she winced at the harshness of her tone. "Do not speak to me that way. You know better. Come on, open the door. We need to talk."
"I'm not coming out!" Sofia crossed her arms. "Not unless Mama comes!"
Arizona's eyebrows shot up. That was the last thing she had expected to hear. Why would Sof want both her and Callie to discipline her?
Even so, it was a lot to ask for. "Sweetie," Arizona sighed, "It's my night with you. I don't even know if Mama's home, and there's a storm outside." As if for emphasis, in that moment, the rain began falling even harder onto the roof above their heads.
Still, Sofia held strong on the other side of the door, not answering, not backing down from her demand, and certainly not unlocking the door.
Arizona exhaled an exhausted breath, running her hand through her hair. "Fine. I'll call her." She paused. "If she comes, you promise to come out so that we can talk about what you did?
"Yes, Mommy," she grumbled, almost inaudibly, enjoying the limited time she had left in the safety of the bathroom.
Arizona dialed the phone number she knew by heart, even though it pained her to do so. In truth, she didn't want to call Callie. She didn't even want to see Callie. She wasn't quite done being angry.
But, regardless, in that moment, she needed Callie. She needed Callie's help with their daughter, and so she put her own feelings aside and put Sofia's needs ahead of her own.
She talked civilly with her ex-wife, explaining the situation and exhaled a relieved breath when Callie immediately agreed to come over, get Sof out of the bathroom, and talk to her together.
"Please drive carefully," Arizona pleaded, easily picking up on Callie's haste and fury. "It's really storming out there."
Grabbing her keys and purse and stalking towards the door, Callie promised, "I will. See you soon."
As Arizona hung up the phone, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. Throughout her relationship with Callie, she'd always experienced strong feelings for her. For example, she had felt in love and blissfully happy one second, and then as if she hated Callie the next. It had happened after their first breakup, after the plane crash, after the divorce and, again, after that trial from hell.
For weeks, she had been overcome with that feeling of hatred, but in that moment, she felt it slowly dissipate.
Instead, she was filled with gratefulness—an emotion stemming from love.
Callie was coming over, and she was going to help get Sofia out of the locked bathroom, and then they were going to talk to her together.
"Sof?" Arizona began, tentatively rapping her knuckles against the wooden door. "Honey, please come out."
"I want Mama," the little girl maintained, her voice muffled, given the barrier between them.
"Fine," Arizona sighed. "Mama's coming. You can wait for her to get here, and then we're both going to talk to you about that doll."
Sofia sniffled. Uh oh. "Are you going to yell at me?"
"No, sweetie, I'm not going to yell," Arizona vowed. She wouldn't, despite how much she may have wanted to.
A second later, the doorbell rang, and she hurried to let Callie in from the cold. "Mama's here!" she called behind her. "You can come out now!"
But, stubbornly, Sofia didn't move, unwilling to face whatever she might meet outside that safe haven.
"She won't come out," Arizona reiterated, the pads of her slippers echoing behind Callie's clacking boots.
"Well, she's about to," Callie growled under her breath, reaching the bathroom and immediately pounding on the door. "Sofia, it's time to come out!"
Wide eyed, Sof sensed her mother's fury. "I don't want to!"
"SOFIA! Mommy and I need to talk to you. Get your little butt out here!"
"Callie," Arizona chided, coming to stand beside her ex-wife. "I don't think yelling is going to solve anything."
"And, what, politely asking her to come out will?" Callie countered. "She's been locked in there for an hour, and you couldn't even get her to come out on her own!"
She knew she was being hot-headed and presenting her worst self, but she couldn't help it. She was hurt, she was angry, Arizona hurt and angry, and a part of Callie—a part that was perhaps larger than she cared to admit—was hurting over having hurt Arizona so much, and not being able to repair that.
So she was yelling. And, then, so was Arizona.
"I want her to trust us!" Arizona defended. "Obviously, if she's stealing, there's something more going on and—"
"Obviously there's something more going on! Obvio—"
Attention solely focused on each other, the two women hardly noticed that the bathroom door had opened until Sofia screamed: "STOP FIGHTING! STOP BEING MEAN TO EACH OTHER!"
She gave them each a reproachful look, then slammed the door shut and scurried back towards the safety of the tub.
Anger dissipating, Callie and Arizona met each other's eyes; first, they shared a feeling of pure shock, and then the guilt hit them and the flurry of apologies:
"Sofia…"
"Sweetie, we're sorry."
"We'll stop fighting, okay?"
"Just come out. Please."
Finally, after several minutes of pleas—with Callie resting her forehead against the doorframe in defeat and Arizona eyeing her with worry—Sofia surrendered. She stood up, slowly making her way towards the door, unlocking it and then stopping there—too afraid to pull it open.
Instead, she turned back, sitting on the rim of the bathtub and keeping her eyes locked on the floortiles beneath her feet.
And there they remained, even when Callie and Arizona poked open the door, cautiously watching her and waiting for some sort of response.
"You okay?" Callie asked, moving to sit down beside her just as Arizona moved towards the little girl's other side. Gently, she tucked a stray lock of light-brown hair behind her ear to encourage her to look up.
"We're sorry for fighting, Sof," Arizona offered when their daughter didn't answer. "We didn't mean to scare you."
Wiping the wayward tears from her eyes, Sofia finally looked up, facing Mommy. "Why do you hate Mama?"
Arizona's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her mouth falling agape. "What? I don't hate Mama." Her eyes met Callie's, equally as wide.
"Yes, you do!" Sofia accused. Even being only six, she knew it was the only logical explanation.
"Sofia…" Callie breathed. "Why would you think that?"
"Because!" she insisted. "At school, when Darius was mean to Mia, she said she hated him and stopped eating lunch with him."
Slowly, Arizona nodded, attempting to keep up with her daughter's mode of reasoning.
"And, after my dance shows, you, me, and Mama used to get pizza. But now it's just me and you or me and her!" Her big brown eyes welled up with tears. "Why do you hate each other?!"
Welp, Arizona thought, This isn't going as expected. Just an hour before, she had been prepared to have a serious talk with Sof about her action, its consequences, and why stealing was so hurtful.
In the end, however, it appeared that she and Callie were having a serious talk with Sof about their own thoughtless actions, the consequences, and how they'd unintentionally hurt her.
Their relationship over the last few weeks had been tense, to say the least. Arizona hurt, and she knew Callie hurt, too. They both hated what their relationship had come to, and they knew it was too late to go back. The pain, the resentment, and the anger only continued piling up.
Which was fine. Callie had always had the power to hurt her more than anyone else, and Arizona could accept the fact that her ex-wife hadn't stopped her lawyer from making her brutal attacks.
What she couldn't accept, however, was Sofia hurting because of their own issues.
"We don't hate each other," Callie promised, attempting to maintain a reassuring tone as she felt her own heart break. Poor Sofia. They had attempted to keep her out of their firefight, but apparently, they'd been unable to shelter her entirely.
"We don't," Arizona seconded, running her hand down Sof's little back.
Slowly, Sofia lifted her head to meet her moms' eyes, not quite ready to believe them yet.
"Come on," Arizona encouraged, standing up. It was late, she knew, but it was the weekend and Sof clearly needed reassurances more than sleep right then. "Let's make some hot chocolate and talk, okay? All three of us."
Even despite her worry, Sofia couldn't hide her dimples at the prospect of hot chocolate. "'Kay," she relented, skipping towards the kitchen to grab the ingredients. Just last month, she had finally made it for herself for the very first time, and she was eager to help again.
Callie stood up, and she and Arizona shared a look of regret and grave understanding.
In a surprisingly soft, vulnerable voice, Callie wondered, "You think it's my fault that she's acting out? For putting this whole thing in motion?"
Refusing to allow her own hurt to eclipse the truth, Arizona immediately shook her head. "It's not your fault," she assured her. "And, if it is, then it's mine, too."
Callie offered a somber smile, grateful for the simple truth. "What do we say to her?"
Arizona gulped. "We tell her the truth." Parts of it, anyway—the part that they made mistakes, the part that they'd hurt each other, and the part that they were still a family. It was all they could do.
Callie nodded, agreeing, "And then we talk to her about the stealing thing."
Resembling a team, even despite everything, Callie and Arizona walked side by side into the kitchen, and the little family worked together to make three creamy hot chocolates. With Sofia in the middle, they sat on the living room's plush couch, setting the steaming mugs on the coffee table.
Callie and Arizona shared one final look, and then Callie began, "Sofia…"
"Wait!" the little girl exclaimed, cringing at the disappointment that laced her mother's tone.
Callie inhaled a sharp breath in preparation, and Arizona prompted: "What is it, Sof? We're listening."
Sofia grabbed the blanket that was neatly folded on the back of the couch, instantly throwing it over herself as she buried her face in her knees. "I stole it! I stole it, and I know stealing's bad! I know I was bad to do it!"
"Sofia!" Arizona almost chuckled at their daughter's attempt to hide, grateful to know they'd taught her right from wrong.
She and Callie worked to pry the blanket off her, and when they did, Callie asked, "Why did you do it, then?"
"I don't know," Sof shrugged, pouting.
"You know stealing is wrong, and it can hurt people," Arizona chimed in. "The owner of that store wouldn't be able to take care of his kids if everyone stole everything he sells. That wouldn't be good, would it?"
Sofia vigorously shook her head from side to side. She didn't want that.
"So you made a mistake," Callie concluded, glad to see that their daughter understood what she'd done wrong. "What do you think you should do to fix it?"
Inspired with an idea, Sof looked up and met her mama's eyes. "I can do extra chores! Then, I can give the store my allowance and say sorry. And!" she quickly added proudly, "I'll promise never to do it again."
Callie and Arizona smiled down at her. "That sounds like a good idea, sweetie. That's exactly what you should do," Arizona cooed, wrapping her arm around Sof's back and pulling her close.
"And we'll go with you. Mommy and I," Callie added. "Because Mommy and I don't hate each other. And we're sorry we let you think so."
"But we never hang out anymore!" Sofia argued. "And you don't smile at each other!" She had noticed the small changes in her moms' behavior, and they made her sad.
Arizona racked her brain, attempting to come up with an explanation, but Callie (luckily) beat her to it.
"You know how, by stealing that doll, you hurt that storeowner, even if you didn't mean to?"
Slowly, Sofia nodded.
"Sometimes grownups do that, too," Callie continued. "Maybe not by stealing, but by doing something or saying something that hurts someone else."
She risked a look at Arizona, taking in her pursed lips and those careful blue eyes that attempted to shroud the lasting pain within.
"And I did that," she admitted, her lips quirking up into a gentle smile, eyes still on Arizona's face. And, immediately, she noted the way the blonde's breath hitched at the regret alone that was so evident in her tone.
"We both do, sometimes," Arizona added, contemplatively smoothing their daughter's hair. She knew Callie wasn't entirely responsible. Sure, her ex-wife might have gotten the ball rolling, but she herself had played a role in how they'd treated each other in the trial's aftermath. She certainly hadn't always been the victim.
"Yeah," Callie breathed, handing both Sofia and Arizona their mugs of hot chocolate, finally cool enough to drink safely. "We hurt each other, and we didn't want to do stuff together because we were sad, and we were mad at each other."
"That's why you were yelling?" Sof questioned.
"Exactly," Arizona nodded. "But we won't do that anymore, okay? We shouldn't have yelled in front of you like that. But that doesn't mean we hate each other, either. We really only yelled because we care so much, but that's not a good way to show it, huh?"
"Nuh-uh," Sofia shook her head. Her mothers had taught her far better ways to solve problems.
"But we're a family," Arizona promised, her attention solely on Sof. "And we always will be."
"Okay," Sof surmised, finally accepting the explanation. "So you were just sad and mad?"
"Right," Callie confirmed.
"Because you made mistakes and hurt each other?"
Callie and Arizona nodded, and Sofia's brows furrowed in careful thought.
"So what are you gonna do to fix it?"
Arizona's eyes widened in surprise, and she made eye contact with Callie as her own eyebrows flew up in surprise. "I…"
Sof looked between them, an embodiment of natural goodness and innocence, mewling, "That's what you always say to do: if you hurt someone, you make it better."
"You're right," Callie exhaled, kissing the top of her head. She looked up, meeting receptive blue eyes.
"I shouldn't have made any assumptions. I should have talked to you. And I shouldn't have let anyone make you out to be anything less than an amazing mother."
Gulping back her overwhelming emotion, Arizona offered a hint of a nod. Indeed, Callie shouldn't have.
"I called it wrong, and I'll keep trying to find a way to make it up to you until we're okay, again."
"We're okay," Arizona whispered, her heart speeding up in her chest as she watched Callie fill with welcome hope. "I mean, we're not. I'm not. And you're not. But we will be."
They shared a tentative smile then—needing a distraction—refocused their attention on their daughter.
"Alright, Sof, it's way past your bedtime. How about Mama and I tuck you in?"
Sofia shook her head. "I can do it myself," she decided.
"Are you sure?" Arizona worried. She or Callie had always tucked her in every night in the past.
"Uh-huh," Sof grinned, standing up on the couch to kiss first Callie's cheek, then Arizona's. She hopped down, setting her empty mug back on the coffee table. "I'm big enough now."
Callie and Arizona shared a look of confusion. "Okay…"
Arizona held out her arms, and Sofia flew into them, hugging her tight. "We love you, sweetie. And maybe we can all get pizza later this week if Mama has time, okay?"
Sofia nodded, dimpling at the mere idea.
She gave her mama an equally big hug. "Love you, little miss. And we'll both work hard to fix our mistakes tomorrow, right?"
"Right!"
Reluctantly, Callie let her go, and she and Arizona watched their daughter—who, all at once, it seemed, had grown into a person who was wise and could teach them—as she climbed the stairs towards her bedroom.
As soon as they heard her door close, Callie turned to face Arizona. "Well…That seemed to go okay?"
Arizona smiled—a genuine one, this time. "When we make an effort, we work together well."
Callie smiled in return, overcome with good and bad memories of their past. "Always have." She exhaled a long sigh. "And I really am sorry. For what I put you through."
Arizona nodded. "I know. And I just…I hope you know how committed I am to our daughter. She's always my first priority."
"I do," Callie assured her. "You've never given me any reason to doubt that. It was my own…" She stopped midsentence, shrugging helplessly. "Sorry. I can see how you could hate me after that trial."
"I tried to," Arizona admitted softly, lip corners still raised as she distractedly fingered the rim of her mug.
Finally, she looked up and met expectant brown (and, god, beautiful) eyes. "I've tried, but I could never hate you. Something always gets in the way."
Callie felt her stomach somersault, and she attempted to swallow, despite her suddenly dry mouth. "You feel it? That…something?"
Arizona knit her eyebrows together, wondering if Callie was reading through the lines correctly or misinterpreting.
Arizona was trying to say—perhaps despite her better sense—that she had tried to hate Callie but never could because her love was so strong. And endless.
"Of course," she admitted, as best she could. Even several feet apart, she could feel Callie's warm breath thickening the air, and it made her shiver. "I've always felt it. It's you who stopped."
"No," Callie murmured, her breath catching in her throat with her sudden urgency. "I've felt it." Of course she had. Her heart pumped with love for Arizona. Her love was limitless.
She watched as Arizona watched her, wide eyed, taking in every microscopic detail—every blink and breath—as Callie paused in preparation, then proffered a serene, resolute smile.
"I still do."