A/N - it has been snowing for three days straight where i live and i'll try to get more chapters out during the holiday season. if i don't manage to finish writing the fifth before christmas, i wish to all those who celebrate, a merry christmas and the best times coming ahead. hope you all stay safe and stay happy.
enjoy-
IV - DRESSES IN DECEMBER
"'Of course it's possible to love a human being if you don't know them too well."
— Charles Bukowski
OCTOBER 3, 2010
...
The white noise after these fanatical crazes was always deafening.
In Arizona's car, they panted.
Shakily, on still very unsteady legs, Callie inched off Arizona and into her own seat. With misty eyes, she looked up at Arizona, and Arizona could see every bit of confused and leftover lust in those bogs.
"That…"
Arizona tried to seem more nonchalant than she was. "That was that."
Callie nodded. "And we're…like this. I guess."
"I'm leaving for Africa in two months."
For the second time in the minute, Callie looked stunned. "Just two months?"
Arizona grimaced, "Well, like, eight weeks and a couple of days."
"Then, uh, I guess…" Callie stumbled over her words, and Arizona immediately felt bad about saying it so bluntly. She didn't want it to seem although she wanted to shake Callie off. Finally managing a weak smile, Callie said, "I'm happy for you."
"Thanks."
Callie nodded.
"It means a lot." And it really did, to Arizona at least. She hated feeling this lost. She wanted to tell Callie that she made Arizona smile after these long days, but she held back.
"Should we get going?"
Arizona snapped out of her thoughts. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."
…
The way back to the hospital was a blur and Callie could only remember her heart pounding in her ears, each pump of blood reminding her of just how alive she was.
Good things were never made to last.
And bad things weren't either.
The days continued to slither by with sweat and black circles under her eyes. Sometimes, she looked down at a broken leg and all she could hear was Arizona soft voice as she whispered sinful things into her ear that night in the car, gentle but deadly, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.
And other times, she would slump into a spare on-call room and all she would see in the darkness behind her closed eyelids was the sparkling look in Arizona's eyes as she'd look straight at her and tell her about all her plans in Africa.
She was proud of Arizona.
Because they were friends.
Who had sex twice, but that was besides the point.
The first real snow that didn't turn into pathetic mush by the sidewalks came in November. That day, Callie was called into the ER, where she stayed for a whole shift, rushing here and there as attendings barked orders. It was crazy and Callie loved it.
It was after she popped in a dislocated shoulder with Doctor Chang squinting on the side that she really felt although the world made sense. As soon as the patient was wheeled away, Callie sprung out of the room and practically skipped to Cristina's side, her eyes wide and her mouth refusing to stop smiling.
"Yang. Yang. Yang, stop talking to Mer for a minute and listen to me be uselessly excited for a dislocated shoulder."
"Go on."
Callie squealed. "I popped in a dislocated shoulder!"
Cristina's expression got less monotone for a second and she cracked smile. "Congratulations. Even if I kinda want to slap you because I need to touch a heart or I'm going to quite literally explode."
"Thank you," Callie sniffed, "I'm so touched."
…
Dragging her feet into the locker room, Arizona felt exhausted and all her limbs were dead weight. She'd just rushed a whole family into the ORs and god, she felt alive.
She pulled on a sweater and smiled, recalling the excited look on Callie's face she saw, all the way on the other side of the ER. If she tried, she could still feel the exhilaration, back when she was only an intern too, back when being able to touch a patient was the best thing in the world.
Outside, a great clap of thunder and Arizona shivered. The Seattle weather wasn't getting any better closer to Christmas. This snow and rain weather were bound to bring in yet another crowd of rigs into the bay.
Shrugging on her bag, she hurried downstairs, into the elevators and to the front doors.
"Callie?"
She shifted backwards and turned, giving Arizona half a grimace. "Hey."
"What are you doing here?"
"Uh," Callie hesitated, "Cristina was being an asshole and drove off in our car when her shift ended. And now it's…snow-raining."
Arizona gave her half a smile. "Well, I have a car."
Into the foggy air they rushed, with the heavy snow and rain obscuring their view to a mere couple feet ahead. Callie gave a high-pitched giggle when Arizona suddenly grabbed her hand, from fright of slipping or a silent gesture for intimacy she didn't know, and she couldn't really care.
Slightly surprised, Arizona glanced at Callie. The Callie she knew didn't really giggle, not in front of her, ever, anyway. That was one of the things she had deemed similar about them. They both liked to appear tougher and rougher at the edges to the people they knew. Regardless, Arizona laughed lightly too. She was glad that Callie giggled with her.
"This was," Arizona said between pants, "was a terrible idea."
Callie yelped as she stepped in a puddle. "And now my shoes are wet."
When they finally got into Arizona's car, they were at the best, terribly humid. They looked at each other liked they were about to kiss.
But they didn't.
Instead, Arizona huffed and turned her head away from Callie, brushing droplets of wet snow off her sweater.
"Um," Callie stuttered, "When were you planning to leave again?"
"January," Arizona answered, "Towards the beginning of January."
"Oh."
Arizona took a breath. "You doing anything for new year's?"
"No, not really."
"I'm having a small together at my place. You should come. You know," she shrugged a little awkwardly, "get to know your fellow interns and residents and stuff."
"I-I-"
"You can bring a friend along if you want. If you're afraid to not know anyone."
"Ok." Callie nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."
…
Watching Callie walk into the rickety building, Arizona pulled out her phone and sent her address off to Callie's number. Her fingers hovered above the screen for a couple of seconds, not knowing whether to keep typing or to leave it alone.
Her hands were freezing and she could barely feel the small screen beneath her fingers. With a whoosh, a little bubble of words jumped onto the nearly blank interface.
"Hey, when's your next day off?"
"We can get together again before I leave, if you'd like."
Was it too demanding? Frowning, Arizona pressed the home button harshly and dialed another number.
"Hey, Teddy?"
She couldn't help but smirk as she heard the familiar voice answer her a little irritably from the other side.
"You have to help me plan a new year's party."
…
"You could have worn something…" Arizona waved her hands at Callie while stopping at a red light. "More appropriate for the freezing snow outside, you know."
Callie stuck out her lip and shrugged. "My dress is great. Admit it."
Arizona rolled her eyes but nodded with a smile. The flowery cloth flowed down Callie's legs and it was although straight out of a Victorian novel. She'd poked fun at Callie at letting her badass façade down, but Callie simply shrugged again and replied with an arrogant little "as long as I like it". Arizona didn't miss the little flash of insecurity that flashed though Callie's eyes and she immediately felt bad. But she didn't what to say, so she continued driving and silently clicked the radio to the channel she'd discovered a few weeks ago that she was sure Callie would like.
"Just don't complain about your hyperthermia when we get out of the car."
Changing lanes, Arizona brought her truck to a final stop on the side of the highway. "Here we are. I can't afford a five-star restaurant, but I can afford a picnic on an old blanket on the side of the highway."
Callie grinned at her, their recent conversation already all forgotten. "Oh my god, this is great. I've always wanted to see what it was like to sit in those tall grass places on the side of the highways!" On an afterthought, she added, "That sounded sarcastic. It wasn't. I actually did want to try this out."
Arizona chuckled and climbed off the car, handing the thick old blanket that was torn in three different places to Callie.
She crossed her arms and leaned back against her car. She squinted her eyes and grinned at Callie a few steps away in her flowing skirt, laughing. She knew she had to join Callie sooner or later, but she just needed two minutes. Two minutes of watching Callie being happy. Two minutes before Callie saw her and got sad and smudged her makeup.
What kind of crazy human wears skirts in the middle of winter anyway?
Surely not Arizona, clad in a sweater, a coat, and a vest.
In any way, she was still believing that they would meet again, in a better time, in a better place than this. In a place where they could love whoever they want to love and do whatever they would fancy doing. They could meet again in their wildest dreams.
Callie looked back at Arizona. She smiled bigger and waved at her, calling her to come over. Arizona grinned back, pushing off the car and kept her hands stuffed inside the pockets of her pants because, surely, if she didn't keep them there, she would grip onto Callie and not let go. Nothing could've lasted forever, but lord, she wanted this moment to.
Walking towards the blinding vermilion and leftover sun, Arizona squinted eyes and could almost make out a pretty silhouette, calling her to come closer. She knew that this was the memory that was bound to follow her around.
"Wine, milady?"
Stopping in front of Callie, Arizona laughed at her holding up the cheapest bottle of wine they found at Walmart and nodded. "Of course."
Callie shook the blanket open and spread it over the wet ground. She took the two plastic cups Arizona held out, filling them, and sat down on the cold ground. They probably shouldn't drink it so full in the cup, but hey, they were already being awfully pretentious with the whole wine thing, so did it really matter if they filled it the whole damn way?
Of course not.
Lone bits of greying snow piled up pathetically in small clumps.
"Urgh," Arizona said, fisting a bit of grass and pulling it out. "It feels like the grass is yellow no matter where we go around here. Even in the middle of winter."
"Better yellow grass then spending another couple thousand every year just to tend your front lawn."
"Like those people in the neighborhoods to the south do?"
Callie laughed. "Hey, that used to be me, you know?" Arizona shrugged, smirking, and Callie shrugged too. "But yeah. Their lawns have a healthier diet then me."
Arizona snorted. "God, I swear that one day, I'm going to leave this town."
"Didn't you spend your entire childhood moving around already?"
"Yep."
"And you still want to move?"
Arizona made a face and looked away from Callie. "I don't really know what to do with all this permanence."
"Good enough reason." Callie nodded and held out her cup for Arizona. "At least Africa is waiting for you. I'm stuck here."
Arizona bumped their cups. "Cheers."
"A toast, Robbins?"
Arizona thought for a moment, and then looked up at the highway rushing by behind her parked car, holding up her solo cup solemnly to the petrol-smelling roads. "To us and our broken futures."
Callie frowned. "Don't say they're broken. Maybe they can be pretty awesome."
"Awesome?"
Callie shrugged sheepishly. "You rub off on me."
Arizona grinned cheekily. "My honour."
She sat there until she couldn't feel her hands anymore and still stole glances at Callie like the night they'd first met. Or like she always did. She knew she fucked things up a lot, a hell of a lot, actually. She wasn't high maintenance; she just didn't want it enough. And now that Callie was sitting beside her, she felt invincible. The reckless, stupid, kind of invincible that comes at twenty-something, as she was sitting with the right person, at the right sunset.
"I feel like I've known you my whole life."
"You can send me a postcard from Africa."
"I will."
None of the painful hungers of the world could touch her now, not when she was staring at the side of Callie's face and holding a red solo cup.
"God, I'm freezing."
Arizona rolled her eyes. "That's what you get for putting on a skirt in December."
"I wanted to feel pretty!"
You're always pretty.
"Fine, come on, let's continue this thing in my truck."
Callie stuck out her bottom lip, even as her nose was bright pink from the cold. "Five more minutes? It's nice out here. It's cold, but its' nice."
"Urgh." Arizona was certain her hands were going to fall off sometime soon. She couldn't even imagine how cold Callie was, but she couldn't help smiling a little. "Fine. But I'm timing you."
Callie answered her with a huge smile.
If she were to be honest, the ground was bumpy and cold, the grass was hard and spiky, and the cheap wine was really, really, really bad.
It was shit, but they were happy.
…
They bid their goodbyes that night, or rather, very early into the morning under a lamppost, in Arizona's truck. Callie had forced her to stop a block away from her basement, saying that she needed to do her "daily walking". Arizona frowned at her but bit back her questions when she saw Callie's look.
She told her that she would see her at her place in a couple weeks for the party and Callie nodded, closing the car door with a thump and waving with a small smile.
Driving back to her apartment under the traffic lights, Arizona realised that she was turning thirty in three and a half seasons. She hadn't felt although time should've gone this fast.
The world was turning as it always did, slowly, painfully, monotonously. Something felt like it was supposed to happen. Like the night she turned eighteen, the night she turned twenty, the night she started her internship. Like these big blocks of time periods in life were really supposed to magically make something out of her.
She'd grown this old, but she still couldn't name a favourite movie. She couldn't name a favourite song, a favourite book, or a favourite person. She constantly believed that maybe this was all there was to her life, this day-to-day journey of nothing in particular. She would sometimes question the 'why' to all her own blank living.
But she was here after an afternoon with Callie and knowing that Callie had wanted her to drop her off a block away because she was self-conscious about her little basement, and she thought that maybe the rest of her seemingly blank life could be filled with days where she tried to find all the rest her 'favourites' to love. She didn't really need so many favourites to give her days meaning, maybe.
Maybe she could just spend her days noticing new things and having new favourites.
She certainly did have Callie slowly becoming a favourite.
She supposed this was normal between friends.
…
As December clanged to its end, Arizona cleaned her apartment. It was a party multitasking as a 'happy new year's' and a 'goodbye', by Teddy's wishes. That way, she wouldn't have to invite people over twice, so as Teddy said, and to which Arizona responded by saying that she didn't like having people over anyway.
Now, slumped across her couch, Teddy chewed on a celery stick she stole from the big platter and squinted at her suspiciously. "Why would you have a 'get-together' if you don't like inviting people over anyway, huh?"
Arizona stumbled as she walked out of the kitchen, spilling a bit of her water over the rim of her glass and cursing. "I-I don't know. I guess…I just still wanted to have some sort of…thing to feel like this actually is ending."
"Ending?" Teddy sat up. "You are coming back in a couple years, aren't you? You're not going to frolic away into your fancy offers and leave me alone to die single and depressed?"
Arizona rolled her eyes, putting down the glass on the counter a little too hard. "No. I'm coming back, Teddy."
"Good. So, ending?"
Arizona stared at the light stain on her shirt for a moment and considered how to word the feeling of have forgotten her heart in someplace else. The feeling of her bones weighing her down into something she definitely did not want to give into.
"You know that wasn't what I meant, come on. I just meant to make my departure a bit more official, you know?"
Teddy laughed and nodded.
Arizona squeezed out a grin, shaking her shoulders. "'Cause I'm fucking great and you all are going to miss me like crazy."
"I mean, I usually want to slap you, but yeah, I guess I actually will."
"Of course you will."
"And Callie?"
Arizona stiffened. "What about her?"
"Wasn't there something going on between the two of you?"
"I mean," Arizona swallowed, "I slept with her once or twice. But I do that with plenty of girls."
Teddy made a face. "Yeah, that's true. But you seemed to actually like her."
"I do. We're friends."
"Geesh. Friends with benefits never work out well, I'm telling you that much."
Arizona laughed. "Well, I'm off to Africa, so there isn't really anything to work out, isn't there?"
Teddy laughed too, nodding and raising her celery like a glass of champagne. "Smart, Robbins." Pulling her face down into seriousness after a bit, she reluctantly added, "But you seem like you were almost close to falling this time."
Arizona looked down at her hands. "I know."
Teddy nodded.
"I'm going to change my shirt."
"Okay."
…
Arizona clanked her beer with Teddy and April in the kitchen, glancing at the living room. Callie had arrived a few minutes ago with the same curly haired woman she saw at the intern mixer. Cristina, Arizona was pretty sure her name was. Another girl was behind them, thin and blonde and seemingly to be very intrigued with both the drinks bar and Doctor Shepherd.
Arizona wiped her hands on her shirt and looked down at herself. Her old torn jeans and her brother's button-up shirt didn't look great together and was two sizes too big. She was nervous all of a sudden and wished that she wouldn't have to face Callie again after those skittery two minutes of showing her around when she first arrived.
The wet night outside wasn't any more forgiving.
She wasted two more hours away, glancing at Callie every five seconds from the other side of the room and occasionally catching her eye. She couldn't help the corner of her mouth pulling down when she saw Callie slamming another bubbly champagne bottom up.
She knew perfectly well that one day, maybe already, maybe in the great faraway future, she would meet someone who will make her world go around in a swirl of whatever made her happiest. And she knew too, that this someone was destined to be light. And she knew, finally, that this someone was often not the one that she could have the privilege of knowing for a long, long time.
At least, that was what she thought of as she watched Callie giggle at something Cristina said to a ginger man, slightly disconcerted.
Arizona watched Callie until Callie swayed around and caught her eye and grinned widely as the people around her crowded around the television and started counting down.
Laughter and noisy conversation swarmed around the small apartment and glitter was on the floor, and Callie laughed an airy laugh, walking to stand next to Arizona. There were already too many people gathered around the television, so they were sadly squeezed out of the crowd, just outside, behind them.
10-
Callie looked tantalizing standing there with rosy cheeks and a big smile.
9-
People around them buzzed away and she saw Teddy holding the hand of the baseball player she met a few weeks ago.
8-
Her champagne-stained lips were bitter as she swiped her tongue along her teeth, her eyes back on Callie, counting down the seconds with everyone else, just as happily.
7-
It was fitting, the way Arizona ached a little. She liked starting new things but she was always a little afraid and a lot empty on New Year's Eve. Like she was emotionally attached to the old year, like she wasn't ever quite ready to leave everything behind just yet.
6-
Callie nudged her arm, jutting her chin at the television and telling her to count with everyone else.
5-
This was a past to their broken futures, and a punctuation mark marking the end of a chapter that still echoed of lonely highways and busy jobs.
4-
She was suddenly very calm, and she saw Callie's silent and quick little glance her way, even if she didn't mention it.
3-
"We both look lonely and we both look like crap," Callie whispered.
Arizona snickered. "Yeah, but it's alright. I'm having a good time."
2-
She had never thought she would actually miss Seattle.
1-
It seemed like she will, after all.
Happy New Year!
"Calliope," Arizona said, and she was sure she was just about to start saying some very sad things. But before she could manage, Callie passed her hands through her hair and pulled her closer very gently, and kissed her under the dim dirty light of the party.
As fast as it started, it ended, and all Callie did was give her a little grin, friendly as ever.
All the things she thought to said had no way to bubble past her teeth.
…
The party was still buzzing outside the closed door of Arizona's messy bedroom, albeit a little bit quieter. Maybe it was the night getting old.
Arizona leaned against the headboard and Callie sat at the foot, cross-legged and opening a can of coke. After having talked about the best non-smearing mascara and non-polluting cat litter, they fell into a bout of silence.
The coke fizzled over Arizona's unmade bed and the white sheets shone eerily through the slice of moonlight that snuck past the crack in the curtains.
"I have nothing to give right now, Calliope."
Callie didn't look too surprised when Arizona started talking again. "Me neither. You know that."
Arizona nodded. And then she shook her head and didn't look at Callie. She couldn't look at Callie. They both needed to become better people before they could be much of anything together.
Callie was important. But so was her career.
Arizona knew, deep down, that she really could abandon Africa for Callie. Callie was important enough for that. But she couldn't. Not right now. Africa was an opportunity. For Arizona and her career. And it was an opportunity that would make her a better doctor.
And Callie and her weren't much of anything anyway.
"We'd really need a miracle for this to work, you know?"
Callie laughed, "I know."
And maybe, just maybe, when Arizona would come back from Africa, if Callie was still in Seattle, if it was a good day…maybe, just maybe, Arizona would be a little bit worthier to hold Callie's hand. That was what she thought to herself.
"It's kinda sad."
"It really is."
Arizona smiled sadly at the girl sitting at the foot of the bed. She always thought Callie was so pretty, so pretty, when she laughed and when she smiled. When she talked, when she blinked. "It's okay. We'll do fine."
Callie took a sip and nodded. "We will." And that was the truth. Anyone can live just fine without anyone. All those 'I can't live without you' sayings were never true.
"You'll find someone good to you. Better than I am to you."
Callie pursed her lips weakly, looking away. "Please. Let's not talk about that. Okay?"
Arizona sighed. "Okay." She motioned for Callie to come closer after a bit, patting her lap. Callie set her can onto the floor by the bed and climbed over the thin cotton sheets, straddling her lap, Arizona's hands coming to wrap around her waist and Callie's arms going around Arizona's neck, like they had done so many times on the first night they met. Arizona closed her eyes and leaned back into the hard headboard. "We can stay like this."
"But this makes it feel like we're actually…something."
Arizona stayed silent and squeezed Callie's hips.
"A-Are we?"
"What?"
"Anything?"
Arizona stayed silent again, and tipped her head forward, her tongue against Callie's neck. She planted kisses along the delicate curve until Callie's breathing hitched and gripped her neck tighter. Her cold fingers couldn't hold this night forever.
Who was Arizona kidding?
What kind of falling or feeling could last for three years in someone's absence?
This wasn't a love song. This was a universe where Arizona was leaving the continent in three days.
Callie wouldn't know that Arizona wanted so to be able to keep her company. Even if it wasn't as anything more then a friend.
Callie wouldn't know that Arizona knew that they were not good enough for each other yet. Arizona had her career in Africa. Callie had her intern year stretched thin. Relationships were not made to only be enjoyed. They both had nothing to give right it that moment.
Callie wouldn't know that Arizona would miss her too.
Callie wouldn't know this was Arizona saying goodbye.
…
The morning after, Callie sighed, she turned her face into her pillow and bit her lip. She could still smell Arizona's shampoo. Bittersweet. Invading.
Callie wasn't going to cry.
She was a grown-up. She didn't cry for someone that wasn't there anymore.
The lights were off and she was alone.
Callie was so scared.
She was so scared that Arizona would come back one day and see her entangling her life with someone else. Scared that Arizona would think that Callie never felt anything this deeply; that Callie never wanted to wait for her. Because that wasn't true, oh, how that was so not true.
Wait.
This word already didn't belong to them. It shouldn't belong for anyone.
Because people should fight for other people. And people should fight for themselves. At least, that was what she liked to tell herself. That was what she liked to believe.
Waiting was a declination of another stronger, better, verb, and it was a death sentence for Callie's will to keep on living.
Arizona really might come back and see her wasting her life away with someone new. How was Callie supposed to explain that her biggest regret was no one else then Arizona herself?
…
An empty bid to farewell fell through the bittersweet air in the morning, landing in Callie's palm. She clenched her fists and didn't cry.
Arizona wouldn't know that Callie knew it was goodbye, that afternoon.
Arizona wouldn't know that Callie clenched her teeth and still spent the night with her.
…
Arizona left for Africa two days later.