A/N: I think this is the second or well third last chapter in the series, but do not worry. I have one month of free time at hand so I might end up doing a December version of NoNaRiMo. I am not guaranteeing an update every day, it depends on when I get time to edit because honestly, I find editing harder than writing, but I do have a new story idea in my mind and I really like it. I'm just going to spend some time figuring out a few logistics and possible storylines but other than that we are good to go.

With this chapter, please let me know if I left something out or is there something you want to see happen before I wrap this story in a pretty pink bow. Yes, killing Erica is on my list but I'm not so sure about it.

I am finally done with my finals and they were really bad. Like I struggled with them so hard, so maybe thinking of a new story would be good for me.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one!

Chapter 29: Calliope

Present day

Everything hurts. It hurts to move, to breathe, to blink, to think, to do pretty much anything. To make matters worse, I have not seen Arizona. I mean yes, I have seen Arizona but I usually catch her right when I wake up when she makes up some bullshit excuse about having rounds or getting some coffee and then I don't see her throughout the day.

How long does it take to drink coffee?

So far, the nurses have decorated my room with a humongous amount of get well soon cards, flowers and chocolates and teddy bears and everything you can find in a gift shop.

Would it make me a horrible person if I said that I would rather have a genuine conversation with any of them than opening a literal flower shop? But I'll take it, even though the flowers are dying, the chocolates are rotting because I can't eat them or anything yet and the cars are well. Just a piece of paper.

It's been about three days since I woke up but apparently, I was in a coma for a good thirty days. Wow, a day more and they would have to pull the plug. Good going me and choosing a perfectly dramatic time to wake up.

Suddenly, I see a moment on the outside of my room. The blinds are drawn but I can make out that there is someone who is pacing back and forth on the other side of the door, someone with salt and pepper hair.

"Mark!" I yell from the bed. "Just come in already."

It took about five seconds before I saw the door handle turning as my best friend walked in. I thought he would walk over and hug or sit by my bed or do anything but come in quietly, close the door behind me and not utter a single word. I don't like this. I don't like this one bit.

A quiet Mark Sloan is a scary Mark Sloan.

"Are you going to talk to me or?" I started.

"I am mad at you," he said as he crossed his arms "You got shot Torres! What the fuck!"

"Indoor voices please," I requested.

It's not like I have a sensitivity to loud sounds or anything but I am about thirty days behind on caffeine and I'm not really awake and kicking, but more like barely awake and not at all in any shape to kick.

My arm was in a sling and my chest was bandaged up. The bullet apparently hit and punctured one of my lungs and cracked a rib with it and few of the bone fragments struck my heart which was what sent me into a coma. Had it not been for Teddy, any other ordinary Cardio-thoracic surgeon would have called it quits and wouldn't have bothered to remove microscopic bone pieces from a patient who couldn't stop coding.

The reason my arm was in a sling was because the blood circulation was highly compromised and I had a pretty severe dislocated shoulder all thanks to Erica. The doctors still haven't told me about how long it would take me to recover or what I am looking at in terms of physiotherapy. That only means that it would take me more than three months before I'm back at work.

I can't cut. This sucks! I can't be a doctor for god knows how long and to make things worse, Arizona won't talk to me and my best friend here is busy sulking.

"It's good to see you Mark."

"It's good to see me? You fucking died Cal!

"Almost! I almost died."

"See look! I get it, I know that you were not exactly learning to cook or whatever your father said you were doing when you went away all those years ago. I get it that you have to keep a few secrets from me. I understand all of that, but what I don't understand is how it would lead to you getting shot!"

"Mark, I really wish I could tell you everything, but it is too messy and complicated and it's best that you know as little as possible."

Mark laughs as if he doesn't believe me. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"I-I" I'm not sure how to answer this question. "It was just a few things in the past, but hopefully It's all behind me."

"That's all I get?"

I take a deep breath which causes the pain in my chest to flare up. "I want to tell you more, but I can't Mark, I'm really sorry."

Mark takes a couple of steps and takes a seat by my bed. "Can you at least tell me that this won't happen again?"

Honestly, I can't. I don't know what happened, I don't know who shot me, just that I was shot and then it's all a huge blank before I opened my eyes as Arizona was tightly holding onto me. Maybe she knows what happened.

But then as I look at him, this broken, defeated man who clearly loves me like I'm his person, part of his family. I pull the bravest face I can and say "I promise, nothing like this will ever happen" Hoping that he buys what I am selling.

I see a crack of a smile on his face.

Yes, he believed it. Mark suddenly leaned forward and smacked my good arm.

"Ow!"

"That is what you get for giving all of us a giant scare!" He said as he leaned back on his chair. "Blondie literally lost it, you know?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you talked to her?"

I don't know why but this question makes me mad.

"How do I talk to her, Mark?"

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"I have barely seen her."

Mark made this face that he couldn't believe what I was saying. But it was the truth. I miss her. I mean I know we weren't on good terms before I got shot but then, we were getting there slowly. We had almost become friends. Hell, I even spent the night at her place, making sure she was okay and that she wasn't having any nightmares anymore. And what do I get? That she can't seem to make time in her all-busy schedule to even give me five minutes of her day.

"What are you talking about?"

"I see her first thing in the morning and then she gives me some lame excuses and just bolts."

"Can you blame her?" Mark asks.

"What-"

"When you were brought in, the only thing keeping you alive was her physically stopping the blood from pouring out of your body. She refused to leave the OR until Teddy had to kick her out because she kept on asking too many questions about how you were doing. Your heartbeat would spike up for just a second and she'd start panicking. Then she snuck into the OR gallery and Bailey pulled her out of there as well. The whole thing with the advanced medical directives, I get it. I know why I had mine drawn up, but she was a mess. She refused to leave your side even for a bit. You think she doesn't have time for you? She had to watch you die not once but twice I guess. The first time when you got shot and then on day thirty as the nurses were preparing to pull the plug." Mark takes a huge breath. "That woman has not been able to catch a break. She doesn't sleep, eat or do anything that doesn't revolve around you-"

That is not true, that is simply not true, if it were she would come and talk to me right, I would see her, she would at least yell at me and not run away, right?

"I don't believe you Mark."

"She's here with you every night watching you sleep because she's too scared that your lungs would give out to your heart would just stop beating. I saw her with her stethoscope on your chest at night making sure that your heart did what it was supposed to do because she wanted to catch it first and keep you alive. I have caught her crying in supply closets because she doesn't know what to do with her emotions. I have seen her putting her finger by your nose to make sure you were still breathing. That is what is up with her."

I'm shocked, I didn't know any of this. I just thought that Arizona was being weird because that is what she does. Something happens, it's always been me who has been the one to chase her, but it looks like I need to get off my ass and show her that I love her.

Fuck! I love her, I'm still in love with her!

"The reason she bolts when you wake up is so that she can sleep for an hour or two before her shift starts. No one wants to take a shift in the ICU because they are scared of Blondie and her wrath. One nurse almost quit because she failed to tell Blondie that your urine output had changed."

I cringed at that sentence. My fiancé was monitoring how much pee I was making.

Fuck, she is not my fiancé.

My hand immediately flies to my neck, the place where her dog tag rests only to find it bare. I started panicking, shit don't tell me I lost it! I cannot lose it! The place I saw it, it was in that warehouse. I remember taking it from her hand. Maybe when I get out of here, I can check if she has it. I need it almost as much as I need my next breath.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Why are you apologizing to me, you need to apologize to Blondie."

"I know but she doesn't-"

"She loves you, you know," Mark cuts me off.

"She does?" I can't keep the smile from coming to my face.

"I don't know what history the two of you share, but clearly this thing you have for each other isn't new."

I don't know how to respond to that question without telling him that I used to work for the Mafia and that Arizona was in the same line of business.

Before I could reply he asked me a question that threw me off guard "You love her, don't you?"

Well, if my best friend can see it then it's no point in hiding it.

"I do, I love her," I whispered.

"Then you gotta fight for her."

Marked walked up to me and kissed me on my forehead before patting my forehead.

"But how! She's like a scared little bird. The minute I show any signs of walking up she gets up and leaves. I ask her to stay and she says she has rounds or that she's going to go get a cup of coffee and I don't see her until next morning. How do I get her to stay? How do I do that?"

I can see a smile coming on Mark's face "You can pretend to die again and that could get her here," he jokes.

Wait, maybe it could work? "Yeah, but don't you think that's a little extreme?" I asked.

Based on what he just said, that she has been having a rough time dealing with my recovery I don't think that this is the best idea.

"Sometimes you have to do crazy things for love," Mark says as a dreamy expression takes over his face.

"Who are you? What have you done to my friend?"

"You remember that intern? Little Grey?"

Oh no! Not her! She was a good one! "Please tell me you haven't slept with her?"

"We are officially together."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Again, who are you and what have you done to my best friend."

"It's love, it hits you pretty hard."

I smiled. "Yes, it does."

If it is extreme measures which would get Arizona in the same room as me so that I can show her that I am okay, that I am alive and that I love her, I'm going to need some help.

"Can you do me a small favor?"

"I don't like that you have an evil grin on your face."

I shrug my shoulders. "It's not a big deal. I'm going to just pull out my heart monitor which would set off code blue, I just need you to pretend to do CPR on me till Arizona comes and you know, make sure no one gives me any epi or shocks me or my perfectly working heart." I put my best smile on my face.

I see Mark trying to find a reason to say no, but then he walks up to my bed and pulls on the lever then puts the bed in a supine position. "Are you sure about this?"

"She's worth the trouble."

"Alright," he says before he pulls out the wire that goes to my heart monitor.

I hope Arizona forgives me for the measures it takes for me to get to her to talk to me. But I love her and I cannot go another day without her not talking to me.

A/N: How was that? The next update will probably be the last one for this story. I mean, if you have a suggestion that you want to see in this story, then let me know. I'm really excited for my next story and can't wait to work on it.