Callie drops onto the plastic seat next to Gloria with very little grace and even worse posture, sliding her lunch tray across the table with a screech. The general exhaustion of her life has finally sunk into her shoulders. Gloria pushes away from Callie with her annoyingly perfect spine, eyeliner smudged, and she looks like she hasn't slept much either.
"You look terrible," Callie bites down on the inside of her cheek with a pained, dramatic expression.
Gloria blows a piece of hair out of her face. She somehow leans her elbows into the table without slouching at all, making its uneven legs tilt towards her. "You look worse than I do," she says. Callie glares.
"Ha! Good one," Callie tears a french fry in half aggressively, taking one and throwing the other back onto her plate. "How is… is she—" Callie cuts herself off when Gloria shoots her a look that says do not ask me if my hospitalized daughter is okay if you want to live. "How are things?"
"Dr. Cahne's out," Gloria complains. "I heard from nurse Lynn that he had some sort of mid-life crisis, left his wife, and fled the state. He's probably in Canada by now."
"You're kidding me. Then who's covering Ava's case?"
Her friend reaches across the table shamelessly to snag one of Callie's fries. "They won't tell me yet, which probably means it's not good."
"Look, I'm sure they wouldn't stick her with a bad doctor, right?" Callie says hopefully, reassuringly. Gloria is quiet. "Right?"
They do, in fact, stick her with a bad doctor.
Cahne's replacement is a fetus with a nest of mousy hair and a thin chin. He looks barely older than Andrea, who had been an idiot baby child that needed adult supervision at all times until barely a year ago. Callie had molded her resident into the surgeon she is today, she had overseen Andrea's growth herself— and it says something that said resident is now standing besides Callie, shooting her alarmed looks as this fetus mangles Ava's vein for a simple blood draw.
"For Christ's—" Callie interrupts. The new guy jumps a little. Callie would be lying if she said that didn't give her a bit of twisted satisfaction. "Jones, take over for Dr. Finneas, please."
"Yes, ma'am." Andrea says. Callie has never seen a third year resident look so grateful to do a blood draw before. Yeah, that definitely says something.
Gloria sits in the corner chair, her eyes bouncing between the three other doctors and her daughter. Callie notices a definitive click behind Gloria's eyes as she comes to a decision. "So, Doctor Finneas, you're an… attending, was it?" She knows damn well that he's not, but she wants to make him say it.
"A fellow, ma'am," he says. Callie scowls. A fellow treating Ava, and not even a good one. Gloria catches Callie's expression and sucks her teeth, visibly unhappy. Ava glares at her mother, shaking her head so slightly that anyone who hadn't spent time with her would miss it. The message is clear: be nice.
"And where, exactly, are your attendings?" Gloria asks. She slides her reading glasses off her face, snapping the wings closed with a flick of her wrist. Diplomatic but not polite, and more than a little intimidating.
Finneas doesn't notice. He's been too busy shooting nervous glances at Callie the entire time. "Oh, they're crazy busy with Cahne leaving and all. I'll be handling Ava's case from now on."
Callie and Gloria share a look behind his back. Over their cold, dead corpses.
"Dr. Finneas, can I speak to you in the hall for a second?" Callie asks, jerking her head towards the door. Finneas' eyes get wide. "Just a second. This won't take long."
He screws up his stupid face but follows her out to the nurses' station. Callie crosses her arms, staring him down until he starts shifting uncomfortably. "You're off this case."
"What?" he looks surprised for some reason, like he's completely unaware of his own incompetence. She lifts an eyebrow. "Dr. Torres… you're not my boss, you can't just take my patient. You're not even in peds."
"How about I worry about that and you worry about whatever's going with this… situation," Callie waves generally at his body before prying Ava's chart out of his hands. "Sound good? Alright, buh-bye now! You take care."
He's too much of a baby to put up a fight, and she falls heavily against the wall behind her as he scurries away, rat-like. Callie groans, pressing the palm of her hand into her forehead.
She knows what she has to do. That doesn't mean she wants to do it.
Arizona sounds shocked to hear from her, which isn't a surprise but grates Callie's nerves for reasons she doesn't want to examine too closely. But she agrees to come. Despite everything, Arizona still comes when Callie calls her.
Callie waits in the hallway outside Ava's room, looking through the window with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her lab coat. She's clicking a pen, anxious movement hidden except for the sound of the spring coiling and uncoiling rhythmically. This is humiliating. To go crawling to Arizona for help makes her face burn and she hasn't even done it yet.
Again, she feels Arizona before she sees her.
Callie rolls back on her heels, turning towards the Peds Ward entrance a second before Arizona pushes through it, like she knows, like she has a sense for when Arizona enters a room. Arizona gives her a little half-smile and a two-fingered wave, not quite committing to the idea of civility yet. Callie pulls one hand out of a pocket to guide Arizona to Ava's window, unthinkingly, relieved that Arizona lets her get away with it just this once. She drops her hand away the second she remembers who she's touching but what's done is done. Arizona clears her throat, looking away.
All and all, it's not their most awkward interaction.
"Thank you for coming," Callie starts, feeling a familiar nervousness that means she's about to say all of the wrong things in rapid succession. "It's— I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't important. You're busy, I mean, I assume you're busy. You know, with everything at…" she swallows. "The Center 'n all."
Arizona cocks her head and squints, but Callie can't stop now. The train is already rolling. "She just, she needs the best?" This part comes out like a question, which rolls into, "And you're the best, right?" Which is an even worse question.
"I know that you just got here, and that you don't even really do peds anymore, but, please, Arizona," Callie spread her hands out in an embarrassed motion, and if Arizona says no right now Callie really might never forgive her, "you're the only person I trust enough, you're the only person I've ever trusted enough—"
"I'll do it."
Callie's mouth snaps shut. "Really?"
"No. Yes." Arizona nods decisively. "Yes. I'll do it."
Arizona rolls the tension out of her left shoulder, waiting for Callie to respond. A slow, cheesy grin takes over Callie's face. "Wow, uh," she smiles wider. "Great. Let me go grab her chart."
It's weird to have Arizona in her office. Feels like she's been dropped off in another time, one where her life was her own and her future was Arizona.
They sit facing each other, Arizona pouring over Ava's extensive medical history, occasionally pushing her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose distractedly and doing a derisive little half snort, half scoff whenever she comes across something she doesn't like. And Callie… well, Callie is doing her best to pretend she isn't staring at Arizona. Having Arizona sunk into the office chair across from hers is unsettlingly easy. Normal, almost.
Everything is different, everything is changed. Everything except for the way Arizona mutters under her breath while she reads.
"Do you remember the lab? Back in Seattle?" she asks, surprising herself.
Arizona's glasses slip slightly so that her eyes are peeking out over the top of the rims. The soft corners of her mouth twitch up so that Callie knows they're remembering the same night. "Yes, Callie, I remember your lab."
Callie leans back in her chair, half-swaggering in a hesitant, stilted way. Her body can't decide how to react.
On some level, Callie knows that she and Arizona are only getting along because Arizona is doing her a favor and Callie is too grateful to pick a fight. Still though…
"There was that one time—" she says.
Arizona picks up on where she's going before she's even close to getting there, murmuring, "When you lost your necklace?"
"I practically tore the lab apart looking for it," Callie grins, teases, "You were no help at all."
"Sorry! It was fun watching you run around—"
Whatever Arizona was going to say is cut off by Callie's outraged "For two hours?"
"Uh, who here actually found the damn thing?"
"Yeah, after two hours," Callie groans. "I still can't believe that that whole time it was—"
"—under the skeleton model!" they yell together.
Arizona presses her lips together to fight back a smile, the kind of smile she doesn't give Callie anymore. They spend a moment looking at each other, getting it. Being around someone who gets it.
Right before the silence can become overwhelming, Callie finds herself asking: "Do you still have yours?"
She assumes that she already knows the answer. Hers is still squirreled away in the same blue velvet ring box she keeps her wedding band in. The clasp is broken and the silver is graying because she can't stand to get it cleaned, but it's hers, and she'll keep it tucked away just in case. In case of what, she doesn't know.
Callie can't imagine a world where she doesn't know exactly where that necklace is, and Arizona is the only person who could ever possibly understand that, is Callie's one shot at being known in absolutes.
"No." Arizona responds, flippant in a measured way that gives away how hard she's trying to be cool. "It must've gotten lost in the move."
And, actually, Callie didn't want to know that. She doesn't want this anymore. "Which move?"
"Does it matter?"
Yes, Callie thinks, Yes, it fucking matters. And then, a little unfairly, How could you do this to me again?
Arizona is as she always was: fundamentally inaccessible. Just when Callie thinks they're getting somewhere, Arizona proves her wrong. Fucking Arizona. Mulish, unchanging Arizona. They will never be okay.
"I guess not."
Callie eats lunch in Ava's room every other Friday, because she doesn't have to worry about picking Sofia up from school and because Ava is as demanding as her mother. She comes bearing three plastic white containers— one that she hands off wordlessly to Ava, another she keeps for herself. The third sits untouched on the table.
"I didn't realize the price of admission was so steep around here," Gloria jokes and Callie snorts, taking her seat near the window.
Ava ignores her mother. She opens the box excitedly, then frowns. "What… is it?" She's scrunching up her face in disgust.
"It's poke," Callie says gruffly, tossing a pair of disposable chopsticks to Ava and halving her own. She rubs the split ends against each other a couple times to sand down the edges. Ava looks at her incredulously. "Oh, come on. You said, and I quote, that you wanted to try everything so you can know who you are. It's your 'great quest', or whatever."
"My life's work," Ava corrects. She pokes a piece with her chopsticks. "And I did say that. Is it safe?"
Callie spears a bite of her own lunch. "It's delicious. Now, go."
Ava picks up a piece and eats it, chewing thoroughly. There's a rare flash of childlike wonder on her face. It's not an easy thing to be a kid. Childhood is not for the faint of heart and Ava never quite made sense as a young person. Ava is the sort of girl who was never meant to be a girl. Ava belongs in a rocking chair, yelling for the neighborhood rascals to get off her lawn, and she always seems slightly offended by the fact that she isn't.
But right now, she is wholly and totally a kid. Callie holds her breath when Ava opens her mouth to speak.
"Not bad."
Callie pumps her fist and lets out a little victory cry, settling into her chair. "I knew you'd like it. If you want to rub elbows with diplomats, you need to get comfortable eating raw fish."
Gloria groans. "Don't give her any ideas. She'll be the ambassador to Germany before we know it."
"And then you'll really be sorry for making fun of me," Ava jokes, now scarfing down her meal like there's no tomorrow. Callie decides that next time, she'll bring Thai. Ava can't become a teenager without trying Thai food.
"So what happened with Dr. Finneas?" Ava asks around a mouthful of chewed fish.
"¡Ava! Cierra la boca," Gloria chides, causing Ava to wince and half-heartedly cover her mouth with one hand.
"Sorry, Ma," she apologizes. "It's just, he was nice. Maybe he was just nervous about the blood draw."
Gloria scowls, using the end of an old coffee stirrer to clean under her nails. "Good doctors don't get nervous," and her voice is all trademark Cardio imperiousness.
"I actually asked an old friend to step in," Callie lies. It's as close to the truth as she's willing to get. "She'll be taking over your case."
"Think I'll like her?" Ava asks. She's still talking with her mouth full, but at least she has the decency to cover it before she starts speaking this time. Gloria says nothing, which is good enough for Ava.
Callie finishes off her meal, closing the plastic container with a click. "Five bucks says you do."
"You know, you really shouldn't incentivize me to dislike your coworkers, Dr. Torres," Ava says. "Plus if there's money on the line, I can just decide not to like her."
"Don't discount Arizona," Callie says begrudgingly. Gloria's head snaps up from where she's sitting opposite Callie, an alarmed look on her face. Arizona, she mouths, wielding her tiny stick like a weapon. "She's sneaky. It's kind of gross how good she is with people."
And she is. She may be a traitorous bitch who lost Callie's necklace, but she's likable. Even Callie can admit that.
"I'm sure that Arizona is great," Gloria interrupts. Ava's head swivels towards her mother at breakneck speed because Gloria's voice is sharp and pointed, communicating something that Ava doesn't quite understand. "But I hope you know what you're doing by bringing in someone new. Especially someone you have history with."
"What?" Callie hates how defensive she sounds, hates the nervous laugh half caught in her throat. "Trust me, Arizona can handle this." Gloria doesn't seem convinced and Callie is shocked at how hurt she is by that. She brings her voice down low and serious. "Hey. She can do this, okay?" she says, scanning Gloria's face for any sign of softening. "I promise, I promise you that she can do this."
There— an unclenching of her jaw. "You're sure?"
Ava's eyes are ping-ponging nervously between them.
"I trust her." Callie tilts her head down, meeting Gloria's gaze evenly. She prays to God she isn't lying. She can't be wrong about Arizona this time. "I trust her, and you trust me."
Gloria relaxes back into her chair. She quietly goes back to cleaning her nails. Something hot and thick sits between them. Tension. "I do, you know. Trust you, I mean."
"I know," Callie smiles to show her that she understands, that Callie isn't going to hold this against her later. Gloria peeks up from her hands, an unspoken apology. Are we good?
Callie hesitates before she nods. We're good.
The anxious, unsteady feeling stays long after the moment passes. Her skin doesn't fit right. It hits her, suddenly, that she may have made a very serious mistake.
The next morning finds Callie pacing the hospital courtyard with two coffee cups clutched in her hands, waiting for Arizona. Her whole life lately feels like waiting for Arizona. At least today she has a reason.
"Is that for me?" Arizona's voice startles her, and Callie jumps a little. She hands off the cup to Arizona blindly, nearly singes her fingers in the process. Fucking Arizona.
She looks beautiful today, though. Her cheeks have that spring day flush that makes her sort of look like she's glowing, like she's made of something different than the rest of the world. Arizona always seems brighter than anyone else, more real. A little more alive. Callie feels stiff and awkward and irritated all at once.
"Uh, yeah," she manages to say, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand.
"You didn't have to do that," Arizona smiles sweetly. Tilts the cup back, hums contentedly as she takes it into her mouth. Callie has to look away. "Oh, God, that's good. What's in this?"
It's cinnamon. Arizona always likes her coffee with cinnamon, but that's something Arizona doesn't actually know about herself. Feeling antsy, Callie ignores the question and she can actually feel Arizona sulking over it as she starts to walk them around the courtyard.
Callie has come to the conclusion— though she doesn't explain this to Arizona— that they do best on the move. If they're walking, there's something to focus on besides each other, so she leads Arizona into the building and through the halls aimlessly. And, perhaps, a little bit so that she doesn't have to look Arizona in the eye when Callie begs her, again, not to run away from a goddamn commitment.
"Can I—" Callie pauses as if to stop herself. It doesn't work. "Frankly, I don't want you in my life. I don't want your perky little pleasantries, I don't want whatever this is," she gestures vaguely between them before dropping her hand. "But you're around, no matter how much I avoid you. And I need you, Arizona, I really need you to follow through with this. Please."
Arizona's mouth snaps shut and her neck clicks backwards slightly. "I've been avoiding you."
"No," Callie gasps. "Really? No. But you're everywhere?"
"You're everywhere!" Arizona says with just a touch of hysteria in her voice. "You called me in on a consult. Honestly, Callie, you're not very good at this whole avoiding thing."
Callie huffs, chancing a look at Arizona who is doing her very best impression of a normal person. She's pretty good, honestly. But she always pushes it slightly too far, lands somewhere just to the right of a believable amount of cheerful.
The halls are busy, thrumming with people and snippets of conversation to cover up the fact that neither Arizona or Callie knows exactly what to say in this moment. All Callie wants is to know that Arizona won't bail on this. It's too much, too important. She can't lose one more thing to Arizona's inability to stand still.
Callie hands out half-hearted smiles to acquaintances and Arizona stares straight forward like a soldier. Walking shoulder to shoulder and still avoiding each other, somehow. And that's always been their problem, hasn't it?
"About Ava's case… it's not good. Her last surgeon— whoever this guy was, I should take his license myself. I mean, he shouldn't have even done her last three surgeries," Arizona runs her free hand through her hair, sparkling irritation and restless fingers. "And her immune system is just getting worse and worse."
Callie rounds on her, pulling them both to a stop just inside the lobby. Trapping them both in this conversation. "Jesus. How about her SCFE procedure?"
"Months down the line, at the very least. Her body can't handle the stress of unnecessary surgery."
"Unnecessary?" Callie crosses her arms in front of her chest. "She can't walk."
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Arizona leans into Callie's space.
"It kind of is, though," Callie responds by leaning in too. She won't let Arizona win here. "And I don't like it."
Arizona scoffs, rolls her jaw angrily. "Do you seriously not have enough faith in me to let me do my job? My job, Callie, the thing you called me in here to do because you can't. Really?"
A bright pink blush is slowly making its way up her chest, and Callie's eyes dart down for a second.
They're close enough that Callie is forced to confront the instinct to antagonize Arizona, uncomfortable and ugly. Their bodies, so attuned to each other, so traitorous in the way they curve around each other's movements. She even finds herself mimicking Arizona's posture. The unconscious familiarity of a lifetime. They've wasted so much on each other.
Callie clears her throat.
"Will she be alright?" she grits out.
"She'll be fine. Kids are stronger than we think they are, and she's got a damn good surgeon." Arizona says this like it's an insult to Callie, and it kind of is. Then she slips her phone out of her pocket, checks the time, grimaces, and Callie can pinpoint the moment that she would have zoomed away on her wheelie-sneaks a decade ago. She sees the second Arizona plans her escape. "Look, I gotta run. I'll see you later."
Arizona lifts her cup in a sarcastic cheers motion and Callie knocks it with her own, stepping back as Arizona turns on her heel to leave.
"Arizona, wait." She grabs Arizona's arm, pulling her so they're face to face again. Callie immediately regrets holding them here for even a second longer than she has to. She should've let Arizona run. "Nevermind," she forces another deep breath through her teeth, "There's nothing really to say. Except, thank you, for this. I guess."
"You're welcome," Arizona says quietly. She looks down at Callie's hand on her arm, then back at Callie's face, then down again.
It's a mercy when Arizona smiles that frozen smile that Callie can't stand, draws back from Callie like a stranger. "Right," Arizona says. She massages her arm with her other hand. "I'm gonna go now."
"Let me walk you out," Callie offers, but Arizona shakes her head.
"I've got it. So, I'll see you around?"
"You'll… see me around." One more awkward swing of her arms before she settles them back at her sides, but Arizona doesn't look back anyways. She just treks through the white-lit lobby, weaving through the crowd without a glance in Callie's direction. Resolute. Unbothered. She doesn't see Callie watching her leave.
Callie still feels that same anxious hum under her skin. She has to be vigilant. She won't let herself— or Arizona— fuck this up.
The energy between them is taut and stretched thin, the very tenuous, very brittle beginnings of a trust fragile enough to come apart at the seams. Callie has made the first move, now, and a fearful little part of her almost wants to snatch it back.
She both trusts Arizona more than anyone in the world, and absolutely cannot allow herself to act like it. For a second, Callie had forgotten who Arizona is. How much Arizona has cost her.
That can't happen again.
Notes: I won't be posting next Sunday because it's the anniversary of something very sad for me, and I will be dedicating the day to sadness. The usual post schedule will resume the week after though!
As usual come talk to me at pearlcages on tumblr and twitter! I love hearing from everyone, and I love feedback.