A/U. Callie and Arizona 11x24.
"Thank you...so much...for staying with me...through all this," April managed to articulate between sobs.
"Of course," Arizona whispered somberly as she soothingly rubbed her friend's forearm. She was heartbroken to see April in her situation. It was one she knew too well.
Arizona was not only familiar with the idea of a spouse calling it quits, but she was also aware of the pain April felt knowing she'd hurt the person she loved most. Like April, Arizona had failed to see the toll her own trauma had taken on her wife. She'd been so caught up with what the plane crash took from her that she couldn't see what it had taken from Callie.
She couldn't see all that Callie had sacrificed. For her. Just as Jackson had for April.
Callie had not only lost Mark, but she also lost Arizona for a long time. Arizona knew that now. She became someone her wife couldn't so much as recognize. Someone cold.
Someone who could cheat on the person she loved most.
Callie had sacrificed everything for her. Arizona knew that now. She knew it for certain when Alex told her that, in fact, he had been the one to cut off her leg.
When Callie admitted that she wanted Arizona to have somebody. Even if she wished it could have been her.
If Arizona lost a leg, then Callie had, too. Arizona knew that now. Both she and April had realized how, in the process of their personal recovery, they had disregarded the people they loved most.
Arizona refocused on her friend. "What can I do? Do you want a ride home? Do you want to stay at Alex's with me?"
April shook her head, tilting it back to ward off more tears. "No. I'll be fine," she finally brought her watery eyes to meet Arizona's wary ones. "Really," she sniffled. "I just need to go home and think."
"Okay," Arizona whispered gently, squeezing her hand before releasing it. The pair stood up and gathered their things.
"Are you going to the reception?" April asked.
Arizona made a face. "That doesn't sound like much fun right now. It's been a long day, huh?"
"Oh, please go," April urged. "I didn't mean to bring you down..."
"No, April, you didn't," Arizona assured her.
As they walked side by side towards their respective cars in the parking lot, April offered, "You should go. Have some fun. For the both of us." She tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob.
Arizona sighed. She wished she could give her friend some comfort. But there was nothing she could do. "Okay," she finally promised. "I'll go. Let me know if you need anything, though."
"Thank you," April sniffled, wrapping her arms around her friend.
Arizona hugged her back, and then finally, April got into her car to go home and face a tough decision. And Arizona got into her car to go to a wedding party and face her ex-wife.
Today had been the first wedding she'd been to without Callie. As wonderful as it had been to see the Chief promise himself to Catherine forever, it also stung a little.
Once upon a time, she and Callie had promised each other the very same thing.
When Arizona walked through the open door and into Meredith's house, her mood instantly lifted. All around her, her friends and coworkers were joyously dancing and laughing with one another. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Callie, gyrating to the beat beside Owen. Arizona couldn't help but smile at the sight, and not just at Owen's lack of coordination, but also at Callie. Just Callie. Entirely in her element. Looking really, truly happy for the first time in a long while.
As Arizona sat down beside Jackson, she discreetly watched her ex-wife move. Callie had always loved dancing, and she was good at it. She and Arizona used to go out dancing a lot before the plane crash. They had danced together on one of their first dates. They had had a blast dancing at their wedding.
Arizona hadn't danced in over three years. Not since the amputation. But, tonight, she found that she wanted to dance again. She wanted to dance with Callie again.
"Where's April?" Jackson asked gruffly, pulling Arizona out of her thoughts.
"She went home," Arizona smiled softly. She understood Jackson's position as well as she did April's. As much as she loved April, she knew that Jackson had a point. The situation was heartbreaking from all angles.
"Great," Jackson sighed in exasperation. "I'm not sure I want to go home." He downed the rest of his scotch then got up to refill it. "Thanks," he offered, and despite his anger at April, Arizona could tell that he truly meant it.
Arizona turned her head and noticed that Alex and Jo had come in. She waved them over.
As Callie turned and danced her way towards Meredith, she noticed Arizona sitting at a table, chatting with Alex and Jo. She looked happy. Really, truly happy, and Callie was happy for her. Sure, she still wished with all of her heart that her ex-wife could have been happy with her, but she had come to terms with the fact that Arizona didn't want her anymore. By the end, Callie knew in her heart that Arizona had stayed out of habit rather than love, and Callie knew she made the right call with the divorce. It was the best thing for them both. Arizona deserved to feel free. She deserved to be happy, even if it wasn't with Callie.
Still, Callie couldn't help but note that the last time she had danced at a wedding reception it had been at her own. And she had been dancing with Arizona: the person she had promised forever to. Callie knew that those days were far behind her, but she couldn't help but feel sorrowful about the idea that it was the last time she'd ever dance with Arizona. Their last time dancing together had been at their wedding.
The fast-paced song she had been dancing to came to an end, and Callie sat down at a table to rest for a minute before she jumped back in. As she reached for her glass of champagne, another song began.
Within the first second, Callie immediately recognized it. It was her and Arizona's song. It was the first song they had danced to on their wedding day. She stiffened and subconsciously looked towards Arizona, trying to gauge whether or not her ex-wife remembered.
She had.
Arizona was very obviously staring at Callie, her ex-wife's expression mirroring her own: eyes wide, mouth agape, fear, longing, and nostalgia evident.
Before Callie could hurriedly turn her gaze away, Arizona got up from her chair, excusing herself from her conversation with Jo, and began making her way towards Callie.
Callie's eyes bulged. What was Arizona doing?
A minute later, Arizona was standing in front of Callie. Her heart was beating in her ears. She felt the heat from Callie's body radiating towards her, even from two feet away.
Callie felt her heart take off in her chest. Her mouth went dry. She could feel the palms of her hands sweating, and she hurriedly wiped them on her dress.
Arizona smiled timidly, and offered Callie her hand.
Callie furrowed her brows in confusion. Arizona couldn't mean...
"Dance with me?" Arizona tilted her head shyly and smiled dazzlingly.
It made Callie's heart melt. Even now.
As far as Callie knew, Arizona hadn't so much as danced since the plane crash. She hadn't felt like she could. But, now, she wanted to, and with Callie of all people. She had changed. She had gotten better. That was clear.
And Callie knew that it wasn't a good idea to dance with her ex-wife, especially not to their song. It would just bring up old feelings. But looking at Arizona's face, seeing her hopeful smile...
Callie couldn't deny her. Callie didn't want to.
Shaking, Callie reached out and took Arizona's hand. She felt her skin ignite.
Relieved, Arizona grinned at her, then led them out towards the center of the dance floor.
Arizona turned to face Callie. She hadn't thought this far ahead. She didn't know where to put her hands. Finally, she brought her hot hands to Callie's waist, bracing for her ex-wife to pull away and run for the hills.
She didn't. Callie only flinched slightly at the intimate touch and released the breath she had been unconsciously holding. It was almost like a sigh of relief.
Gingerly, Callie followed Arizona's lead, placing a steadying hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder. As they began to sway as one, she looked down and carefully met her ex-wife's eyes.
Against her better judgment, Arizona allowed herself to get lost in Callie's deep brown eyes. She couldn't see anything else. Only Callie. She swallowed nervously. She licked her dry lips. Callie was so close. Closer than she'd been to Arizona in a long, long time. She could almost hear her nervous heartbeat. She wondered if Callie could, too.
Callie saw nothing other than the blue eyes she'd once fallen in love with. Everything else...drifted away. Unconsciously, she tightened her hold on Arizona, pulling her in closer as they continued to sway to the steady rhythm of their song.
Finally, Callie cleared her throat. "You're dancing again." She wondered if Arizona had been going to the bars they had used to go to together. She wondered if Arizona had been dancing with other women. The thought gave her a stomachache, and she mashed the feelings of jealousy down. She had no reason to be jealous. She was being ridiculous. This didn't mean anything.
Arizona looked down at her feet, laughing slightly. "I guess I am. It's the first time since..."
Relieved, Callie smiled, thankful to know that her ex hadn't been dancing with other people and also proud of how far she had come, even now.
Arizona brought her eyes back up to meet Callie's. God, she was beautiful. Really, truly, heart-stoppingly beautiful. Without thinking, she pulled their bodies flush together, unable to control her desire to be near Callie.
This time, Callie didn't flinch in surprise. She welcomed Arizona's form against hers, molding into her. Their bodies had always fit together perfectly. She ran her fingers along a smooth white shoulder, and Arizona's breath caught in her throat. She moved her hands over Callie's lower back, and the taller woman shuddered.
As the song began to fade out, Arizona felt her nervousness reappear. Regretfully, she pulled away from Callie, but she kept her hands on her.
Usually, Callie liked to have more of a sense of control, but tonight, she was rendered silent. She felt her stomach do somersaults, and she didn't know why. She and Arizona had separated nearly two years ago. There was no reason her ex-wife should have made her feel this way. Not anymore.
Arizona cleared her throat. "Can we talk?"
Callie's eyes widened. No good ever came from those words. She couldn't listen to what Arizona had to say. She didn't want to pop the bubble. She needed an excuse to get the hell out of there. Finally, she shifted, hitching a thumb behind her shoulder and towards the door. "I should probably—"
"Callie," Arizona pleaded. She pursed her lips. She looked more vulnerable than she had in years. Callie couldn't stand the thought of hurting her. Even now.
Hesitantly, Callie nodded. "Okay."
Callie followed Arizona outside onto the deck. While it had been crowded earlier, it was then empty. Guests had either gone inside to drink, dance, or escape the cold.
The cold was a welcome relief to Callie and Arizona, though. The skin-to-skin contact after so long, as well as the nerves, left their bodies feeling like they were lit on fire.
Arizona sat down on the wooden bench and motioned for Callie to sit beside her.
Callie sat. "Arizona..." she began, "What's this about?"
Arizona released a shaky breath. "I owe you an apology."
"No," Callie assured her, not wanting to open that can of worms. Not wanting to face all those feeling again. "You don't—"
Arizona pleaded with Callie with her eyes, stopping her ex-wife in her tracks.
Callie felt her heartbeat speed up in anticipation. She turned her body towards Arizona, preparing herself.
Now that Callie was actually willing to listen, Arizona wasn't sure where to begin. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to grab a hold of her emotions. She didn't want to fall apart. Finally, she offered, "You lost a leg, too."
Callie knitted her eyebrows together. "What?"
Arizona sighed. "After the plane crash, I lost my leg, and for a while, I lost myself. It took something from me. Something I'll never get back." She closed her eyes briefly, warding off tears. She needed to get through this. "But it took something from you, too," she looked up and met Callie's surprised eyes.
Callie gulped audibly.
"I couldn't see that. I was so consumed with my pain that I couldn't see how the crash hurt you." She paused. "How I hurt you."
Callie felt her breathing become labored and unsteady. She had ached for an honest apology for so long, for Arizona to understand, but after the plane crash, her wife had been unable or unwilling to. Until now.
"Callie," Arizona implored, her voice clear, "I am so, so sorry for hurting you so much. I'm sorry I didn't see how you were hurt by factors outside of our control. What I lost in the plane crash..." she shook her head, thinking of all it had taken from her. "You lost just as much."
Callie nodded gently. It had cost her— them— in ways she still couldn't even begin to understand.
"You lost Mark. And you lost me."
Callie kept looking at Arizona evenly. Her words were true.
Arizona shook her head, deep in thought. "I was wrong." She looked deep into Callie's eyes, hopeless as her eyes suddenly welled up with tears. "I was wrong, Callie."
Callie wanted to reach out and comfort Arizona, but she knew Arizona wouldn't want that. Callie had always been acutely aware of her ex-wife's physical space: she knew when to cross it and when to keep out. From Arizona's current disposition, she knew not to cross it. Not now.
Instead, Callie only looked at her with concern in her eyes. What was she talking about? Wrong about what?
"I didn't think you loved me. Not...the way I loved you. Not after you cut off my leg."
"Arizona..." Callie began in desperation. She was tired of hearing about how she broke her promise. It was the right thing to do. Saving Arizona's life was the right thing to do, and Callie would never regret the decision she made. Even now.
"No," Arizona clarified. "Because you didn't cut it off. Alex did. But I thought..." she paused, "I couldn't wrap my head around how you could..."
Callie's mouth hung open in shock. That was what it had been about? The act of cutting off her leg?
Arizona brought her hands up to wipe her eyes. She wouldn't cry. She needed to get through this. "I didn't think you loved me, but you did." She looked deeply into Callie's sympathetic eyes. "You did."
Callie looked into Arizona's eyes and blinked once, slowly, indicating it was true.
"You sacrificed everything for me to be okay. You saved my life, knowing that I would hate you, and you protected Alex, knowing that I would hate you more. You knew the potential cost, but you wanted me to be okay, no matter what. With or without you."
"Yes," Callie affirmed softly, her voice barely audible.
"I hurt you so much, and I'm so sorry, Callie. You were the love of my life, and after I thought that you amputated...I thought that there was no way I could have been yours."
"You were," Callie breathed, so quietly that Arizona wasn't sure if she heard correctly. She cleared her throat, speaking more loudly this time. "You were."
Arizona nodded, just the tiniest bit. She knew that now. "And I know you think I wanted out during therapy, and maybe, for a second, I did. You were still so angry, and I didn't feel like enough. You had reason to be angry, though. I cheated on you, and it's the worst thing I've ever done. It's the worst thing I'll ever do."
"Yeah," Callie agreed. "It probably is."
Arizona nodded, accepting the fact that Callie had yet to forgive her. That she probably never would. "I'm sorry."
"I know. And I forgive you."
Arizona's eyes widened in surprise. "You..."
"I forgive you. It was the wrong thing to do, but it felt right for you at the time, when nothing else did. I know."
Arizona put her face into her hands. She was so immensely relieved to hear Callie say those words. She used to think that she never deserved to hear them, but she had come to terms with what she'd done. She was ready to move forward, and she was glad that Callie could move forward, too.
"Anyway," Arizona continued, wanting to be completely honest with Callie, "I know you thought I was choosing work over our family— over our baby— but I wasn't. I didn't only do the fellowship for me." She paused. "I did it for you."
Again, Callie felt her breathing quicken at this new piece of information. She held up a hand. "Wait..."
Arizona sighed. "Let me finish. Then you can talk."
Callie nodded, conceding.
"I couldn't take another loss after the miscarriage. But, I thought that with a surrogate, if there were something wrong with the baby..." she paused. "I wanted to be able to fix it. If I had to. I wanted to be ready for anything."
Callie's eyes widened in surprise. Why hadn't Arizona told her? This changed everything. She hadn't thought...
"I wanted another baby with you," Arizona offered meekly. Her voice got impossibly smaller as she admitted, "I still do."
Callie inhaled sharply, unable to quell the swell of joy gathering in her chest over Arizona's words. She knew that there was no reason why they should make her feel hopeful or happy. The two of them still weren't together.
"I hurt you before," Arizona reiterated. "And you hurt me. We both loved each other, and we both lost ourselves." A tear rolled down her cheek, and this time, Callie couldn't stand to see Arizona cry. She reached out and grabbed Arizona's hand, intertwining their fingers.
Between sniffles, Arizona continued, "And even though a lot of our past is painful, I still want to be with you. I want a future with you."
Callie gripped Arizona's hand more tightly, holding onto it for dear life. Holding onto this dream, to Arizona, who as it turned out, was in it as much as Callie was. Even two years later.
"Calliope," Arizona continued, "I want to fight with you, and cry with you, and grow old with you. I want to love you. I want it all with you: the good, the bad, and the ugly. I am in love with you, and I always will be. I want another fifty years to prove it t—"
Just as Arizona finished her last thought, Callie's hands moved to delicately cup her cheeks and, before she realized what was happening, her ex-wife pressed their soft lips together, needing to feel Arizona. Needing to touch the woman she loved.
At the passionate but somehow gentle kiss, Callie and Arizona felt their skin light on fire and their hearts repair for the first time since Callie walked away on that awful day.
Finally, they pull away from one another, their hands never leaving the other's skin.
"Callie...?" Arizona prompted. She needed some sort of verbal response. She had just poured her heart out. She was not the kind of person who allowed herself to vulnerable, but she had, anyway, because this was Callie.
Callie was worth it.
When Callie didn't answer, only continued staring into Arizona's waiting eyes, Arizona brought her shaking hands up to wipe the darker woman's tears away. "You're crying."
Callie laughed, still crying. "Yeah, I am." She tucked a lock of hair behind Arizona's ear. "I don't want to live without you. Ever again."
At last, a smile overtook Arizona's face. She allowed herself to breathe again as Callie continued.
"I love you, and I'll love you forever. I want to be able to show you, forever."
Arizona brought her lips back up to Callie's, pouring all her love into one kiss. Pouring everything she had into the person who knew her more intimately than anyone else. The person who loved her unconditionally.
And Callie reciprocated. Happily. She had tried so hard to stop loving Arizona, but she couldn't. She'd tried for two years to no avail. She realized now that, maybe, she wasn't supposed to stop loving Arizona. She was never supposed to stop loving her. They were meant to be together.
"I love you," Callie promised. "More than anything."
Arizona enveloped Callie's soft hand in both of hers. "I know," she smiled, overcome with joy and a sense of freedom now that Callie knew it all. "And I love you."
She stood up, wanting to go back inside to the warm house filled with their friends, and Callie followed before she quickly pulled Arizona's hand back and pulled the woman she loved into her. As they molded to each other, their bodies pressed tightly together, they released a breath. It was a breath that they felt like they had been holding since the divorce. It was as if, together, they could finally breathe again.
They were home at last.