AN: Fuck, lol, I can't work on this anymore this is my 7th draft. So here you go. Forgive me in advance if there are small errors, I wrote sober and edited/published drunk, I will probs go back and edit some. As I said in the description, this is the (loose) sequel to "i ain't there yet but i'm healing", with Calzona continuing to work on their issues and deepening their relationship. You can definitely follow this without having read it but if I were to rec any of my other fics it would be that one, just saying. Also thanks to lena for letting me talk this through and really helping me figure out what I wanted this to be when I was getting started on it.
Title comes from "Simple Song" by The Shins.
Moments after Callie had fitfully fallen into unconsciousness, the gentle pressure of Arizona's weight on the bed beside her dragged her out.
"'Rizona?" she mumbled, face still buried in the pillow. Arizona's cold fingers trailed up the side of Callie's arm. "Time 'sit?"
"Eleven-thirty."
Callie pulled the sheet up over her arm just a little. "Come to bed," she groaned. "I have to be up at five. You know that." A few weeks ago, she would have been thrilled at Arizona slipping into her room late at night, unannounced. But now, Arizona had been unusually distant the past week, it felt like their relationship was hitting a plateau, and she was too tired to be patient.
"I - I know. I'm sorry." Arizona's tone faltered as she pulled her hand back from Callie, the sleeve of her jacket brushing against Callie's shoulder blade.
Sorry. Arizona apologized for everything. Callie wished she'd stop apologizing and say what she was thinking every once in awhile.
"Callie?"
"Take off your jacket and come to bed," Callie groaned. Why was Arizona even wearing her jacket in bed? Why hadn't she left it in the hall?
The barely coherent thought set Callie slightly on edge, waking her just a little.
"Callie, can we talk?"
Now Callie was fully awake. What could Arizona want to talk about, except whatever Callie had probably been doing wrong for? And of course, she couldn't have brought it up at any point over the past week. No, she had to let it bubble up until she finally let it explode hours before Callie had to wake up for a surgery.
Sighing, Callie sat up reluctantly, the covers sliding halfway off . "Is everything okay?" Callie mumbled. Of course it wasn't.
"I'm sorry. I - I didn't mean to wake you." Callie had to fight the impulse to roll her eyes. Evasive Arizona. Classic. Just what she wanted to be woken up to.
"Well, I'm awake now." Callie tried to hide her frustration, but clearly, she failed, because Arizona hesitated, which only frustrated Callie more. It was nothing new - Arizona was just upset and needed time before she was fully ready to talk about it.
Callie knew that Arizona was afraid Callie's patience would run out, and that Callie would leave her again, just like when they had divorced. And Callie had been patient with that fear, because she knew she had done a number on Arizona. And because it was worth it to have Arizona back in her life, to rediscover all the things she'd missed. Arizona had opened up more and let herself relax around Callie. It had taken them awhile to rekindle their intimacy, but now that they had, the sex was great. They were spending most nights with each other, and for all purposes, cohabitating, much to Sofia's delight. They brought each other to work functions, stopped using the word "ex-wife" when talking to Sofia's teachers.
But after progressing far slower than Callie would have liked, it was starting to feel like the growth had almost stopped. Arizona was still cautious, not ready to talk about actually moving in or combining finances, despite the fact they shared a daughter, and used to be married. And some days she was still distant, Callie could never predict when or how. Sometimes, she'd open up to Callie, if Callie was gentle. Those days were good. But some days she still wouldn't, and it frustrated Callie.
What did she need to do, she often thought, for Arizona to just say that she was in it for the long haul? What did she have to say to make things better, to get Arizona to fully open up and trust her? And how long was it going to take? They'd been married, it wasn't like they were redoing the relationship from scratch. But just like always, Arizona was dragging her feet.
Not fair, Torres, and you know it. It's not like you made it easier for her to trust you.
And plus, she reminded herself, Arizona was here now, waking her up, clearly in need of something. She wouldn't have been a month ago. She was still progressing. Just… slowly.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I'm just tired." Callie ran her hands down the length of Arizona's arms. Some of the chill from the winter air still lingered on her jacket.
"No, it's okay. You - you need to sleep."
"Hey. I'm awake, and if it's not okay, I want to know. It's okay, Arizona. You can tell me. If you want," she added hastily. Arizona had told her that it was easier to open up when she was ready to do it on her terms. Which made sense, in theory, but in practice, Arizona's hesitation sometimes felt like she was keeping things from Callie deliberately.
"No, Callie, it's okay. It's - it's fine." With every passing second, Callie was less convinced of that, and turning away Arizona now felt like it would set them back even further. "You have surgery in the morning and I know you've been working crazy hours this week. I can go," Arizona offered.
She wasn't wrong, Callie thought. "Arizona, I'm a surgeon. I always have surgery in the morning." Callie reached up and pushed a strand of blonde hair out of Arizona's eyes. "Plus, if you leave you're going to have to get up anyways to come take care of Sofia."
Wow, Torres, way to show her you really care.
Arizona shied back a little more. Dammit, Callie was screwing it all up.
"It's really fine, Callie."
"No, Arizona, it's not okay, I can tell. Please. Please stay. I - I don't want you to go." What Callie really wanted was for things to finally be normal with them - and if she was being honest, to sleep for several days. But it seemed like neither of those were going to happen.
"Callie…"
"I mean it," said Callie firmly. She didn't want to be awake right now. Or be patient with Arizona, frankly. But the only thing that would make her feel shittier than sticking it out right now would be waking up in the morning and knowing she'd hurt Arizona again all for a few more hours of sleep. And it wasn't like fighting with Arizona was going to make her feel any better in the long run, even if it was tempting in the moment.
"Did you wanna talk about it?"
"I - I don't know if I can."
Callie bit back a sigh. Through the dark, Arizona's eyes flashed, and Callie realized she was barely holding it together, despite her even tone.
More frustration battled with the impulse to take Arizona in her arms and shield her from the world. Callie seized on that impulse.
"Do you want me to hold you?"
Arizona nodded the tiniest of nods, but the motion broke the tension holding them apart, her eyes brimming with emotion as she fell into Callie's arms completely. For a moment, all of Callie's anger and frustration was swept away, and she was grounded in Arizona's touch. Arizona's curls brushed Callie's cheek as she buried her face in Callie's shoulder, hitting Callie with that scent she never got tired of. Her body curled into Callie's the way it always did, as if they were physically made for each other, and Callie's fingers dug into the back of Arizona's jacket, clinging to Arizona just as much as Arizona was clinging to her. It was good to feel needed by Arizona. And to feel like she actually knew how to fill that need.
After a few minutes, Callie pulled back, slowly tugging at the lapels of Arizona's jacket before waiting for another nod of assent. When Arizona gave it, Callie carefully pulled it off and let it slide to the floor.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Arizona began to undress, removing her blouse, her pants, and then her prosthetic, while Callie turned on a lamp and fetched her a t-shirt. Arizona accepted the t-shirt, stripping off her bra easily and pulling it on over her head. It was a little too large, and it hung off her frame just the way Arizona liked. The small, subtle comfort of their wordless routine calmed Callie's thoughts a little more. This was what she had missed most, the small, easy familiar moments with Arizona, the quiet tenderness, the being in sync without needing to explain. She sat on the bed next to Arizona, and took her hand. Arizona looked up at her, grateful, which quieted Callie's frustration a little more.
"Can you hold me again?" she asked after a minute, a new thread of vulnerability in her voice that made Callie melt. Callie pulled her into her arms instantly.
It was then that Arizona finally broke, voice muffled by her face being pressed into Callie's shoulder. "I, I lost a patient. Well, two, actually."
Callie felt an initial flash of empathy and pain. She and Sofia had once nearly been those patients. And Callie had been that doctor, too. But a wave of relief immediately followed. At least she knew what was wrong - and that it had nothing to do with her. And this was one way she knew how to be there for Arizona.
Callie traced soothing circles across Arizona's back, the way she knew she liked. "I'm so sorry, Arizona," she murmured. "That's always hard."
"I'm being stupid. We've - we've all lost patients before."
"You're not," said Callie. She drew back only enough to meet Arizona's gaze. "You're not, d'you hear me? It's part of the job. And with your patients - god, Arizona, I can't even imagine."
Arizona took in a deep breath and then reached out, letting a hand reverently trace along the curve of Callie's jaw.
"It was a long shot from the start," she said, and began to explain the multiple conditions and complications involved. The medical, technical talk seemed to calm her, as she explained the low rates of survival for babies with her patient's condition - and that was without all the complications the child had.
"Why did you decide to operate then?" Callie finally asked, ignoring another flicker of frustration. It wasn't always rational, when you took a patient's death hard, but Callie still only knew the facts, not what Arizona was feeling. Again, classic Arizona.
Arizona sighed, pulling away a little to face Callie. Callie let her hands linger on Arizona's bare arms, running them up and down in a soothing motion. "Because Nicole and I are trying to figure out new courses of treatments. We're even thinking about getting a clinical trial started."
"That uh, that makes sense." Sort of. Wouldn't a clinical trial want less complicated patients? Or was Callie just too tired to follow?
"Also, I begged Nicole to take them," Arizona added. "They were pro-bono, and we needed to move some funds around."
"I see," said Callie, even though she didn't, not entirely. "What did Nicole say about the surgery?"
"She wasn't there. God, I don't want to have that conversation tomorrow." Arizona rubbed a hand over her face. Despite her distress, with her curls falling all around her face, in the soft glow of Callie's bedside lamp, wearing only a t-shirt, Arizona looked so beautiful, so familiar. Callie loved when Arizona looked like that, comfortable, not a stranger in Callie's space. Even now.
"Hey, one thing at a time. I'm sure she'll tell you that you did everything you could."
"It's not that, I know she will. And I don't need Nicole for that, not anymore. I know they barely had a chance, no matter how good I am. And I am good Callie. I know I am. But I - I just don't want to talk to her about it. I don't want to hear her be all clinical, when a mother and her baby are dead. And I'm the one who gave them hope."
Callie continued to run her fingers lightly up the length of Arizona's arms as she studied her face. She understood exactly what Arizona was saying, but that made it worse, because she also understood that there was nothing she could say to make it better. She could see why Arizona had been so distraught.
Part of Callie wanted to wrap Arizona up in her arms and pull her under the covers, soothe her to sleep. But a small detail stuck out in her mind, one she was surprised she noticed at all. Arizona talked all the time about what a juggling act Nicole's grants were. As a result, Nicole tightly controlled the pro bono cases Arizona could take on, a fact Arizona understood but was frustrated about nonetheless, and had ranted to Callie about on more than one occasion. Arizona would have only pushed for the case if she really believed in it. Or if there was something else going on.
Callie needed more from Arizona, but she knew she couldn't push her. She struggled to think of something to ask that wasn't too invasive.
"What about the dad?" she finally asked. "Or mom? Was there someone else in the picture?"
Arizona pulled back a little more, and then dragged her body up fully onto Callie's bed and leaned back against the headboard, so she wasn't touching Callie at all. Callie tried not to take it personally, and failed, just a little. But she still waited for Arizona.
"Kyle," she said, a second after Callie gave up expecting an answer. "His name was Kyle. He - he was very much in the picture. But he's not here."
"What, you mean not in New York?"
"I mean he's in Iraq." Arizona's voice broke at the last word.
"Oh." That was complic-
Oh.
Callie surged forward to wrap Arizona in her arms once again, and Arizona let her, her whole body trembling with silent sobs. She seemed so frail in that moment, like she might break if Callie held her too tight, and all Callie wanted to be was the wall that stopped it all from coming in.
She didn't know what to say or what to do, because Arizona still never talked about Tim. And in the middle of rebuilding their relationship it had barely occurred to Callie, and when it had, it had never felt like the right time. But now, here was Arizona, breaking down again - and now Callie had to deal with it, when Arizona had had plenty of time to start sharing again. And it wasn't like Callie didn't have patients - patients she had to be awake for in just a handful of hours.
Don't ruin it, Torres. You've come too far to ruin it. You don't want to ruin it.
But she still didn't know what to say.
"What can I do?" Callie finally asked quietly.
"I don't know," Arizona replied, brokenness permeating her voice. "Just - just hold me Callie."
"Okay," said Callie, rubbing Arizona's back as Arizona nestled further into her arms, resting her head on Callie's shoulder, her tears wetting Callie's neck. "It's o- I'm here. I've got you."
They sat like that for a long time, leaning against the headboard. Arizona readjusted, settling against Callie's chest. Minute by minute, Arizona's breathing slowed, and minute by minute, Callie's feelings shifted back and forth, ping-ponging between frustration at Arizona showing up in the middle of night and dumping everything on her like this when she didn't know how to handle it and the sense of rightness she felt at Arizona being wrapped up in her arms, finally in a place to come to her with her problems. And god, she still wanted to sleep.
Gradually, following the patterns of Arizona's breathing, the sharp peaks of her emotions smoothed out into calmer waves, stilling her feelings as she began to finally drift towards sleep, still at a loss. That was new - Callie normally could never calm down without speaking her mind, she'd combust. But with Arizona on her chest, it was impossible to feel like moving or disrupting her could be the right thing.
Her brain had almost shut down, her eyelids just fluttered shut, when Arizona's voice, still high-pitched and vulnerable, but definitely calmer, pierced the silence. "Callie?"
Callie was instantly awake.
"I'm here," she said, running a hand through Arizona's hair, letting the strands slowly slip between her fingers.
"Callie I - I have to call him tomorrow. I have to tell him what happened."
"The - the patient's husband?" Callie felt awful, she couldn't remember his name.
"Kyle."
"Do you want me to be there with you?" she offered without thinking.
Arizona raised her head a few inches to look at Callie. "I would love that," she said softly, "But you'll probably be in surgery."
"Oh. Yeah, you're probably right." Callie replied.
"Thank you, though," whispered Arizona, bringing a hand up to cup Callie's face. "I - that helps. Just a bit."
In her eyes, Callie could finally see how much this loss had been eating her up, how deeply this family had affected her. This was probably why Arizona had been such a mess this week. And why Callie had been spiraling as a result. Would it have been so hard for Arizona to say something?
"Kyle was supposed to come back for the operation," Arizona told Callie. "He arranged for the leave and everything. But then he couldn't come, and he couldn't say why. And then Gwen wanted to push it back, but we had to operate today, or…"
"Is this why you've been so distant all week?" Callie asked. "Because you knew you had to operate, and you knew it probably wouldn't work?"
"You noticed?" Arizona asked.
Of course I did, you moron.
"Of course," Callie replied, brushing a strand of hair from Arizona's eyes. She took a deep breath, and then admitted, "Honestly, I was getting worried, because I thought it was me."
There was a pause. "I'm sorry," said Arizona.
And there it was, just like always. The moment Callie said something, Arizona immediately felt guilty. And now Callie felt guilty, too.
Calm down, Callie. It's not you. It's not.
She was still angry, she realized, that Arizona never talked about Tim, that she still felt like she knew so little about the most important part of Arizona's life, that Arizona still seemed able to tell her so little.
She's telling you now.
Only because she needed Callie.
That's the point, dumbass. She needs you.
"Don't be sorry, Arizona. Not everything's about me all the time. I just - I get ahead of myself. It's okay. I'm - I'm glad you told me. You can always tell me." She would have liked to know that Arizona was being bothered by work, though, and not her.
"I know, Callie. I - I really do know."
Arizona's voice was still shaky, and Callie resolved to bring it up another time. She brushed another strand from Arizona's eyes and then began to play with it, letting it gently slide beneath her fingers, the contact once again calming her. "You were saying? Kyle couldn't come home."
Arizona hesitated, but clearly, there was more that she needed to get out.
"I hate the idea that they died alone, Callie. And that Kyle - that he has to be so far away, and feel like he couldn't save them because he wasn't there." She was sobbing again, and soon Callie's shoulder was coated in snot and tears.
It hit Callie like a ton of bricks. Arizona was still holding tightly onto Tim's death, not just the pain and the loss, but also, inexplicably, guilt. Callie hadn't felt guilt when George stepped in front of a bus, nor when Mark's machines were turned off. Loss, pain, rage, the inability to handle herself, sure, but not guilt.
When it came to Arizona, however, Callie still felt guilty for a lot of things. And some of them, she should. But there were also things she'd felt guilty about for years, things she never should have.
Fuck, it was late, and Callie just didn't know how to deal with the weight of that emotion right now. But she also didn't want Arizona dealing with the weight of it alone.
"You don't have to," said Callie. "But if - if you do, you can talk about it. I wanna know."
Arizona's eyes widened. "You - you mean that?"
What was that supposed to mean?
"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?" Callie replied.
"I just - it's hard, Callie." Arizona's voice faltered, and Callie immediately felt another surge of guilt. She was tired, and Tim was setting her off, but they'd been doing so well, both of them.
Get your shit together, Torres.
She didn't want Arizona to be alone. That was the thing she needed to remember.
"I know. It's okay that it's hard. Arizona, it's okay."
Another long silence elapsed. Callie waited, a little less impatiently than before. Arizona had opened up a lot.
"You know, I only met Kyle once, when he was on leave last month, and the thing that got me about him was his smile. He doesn't look like Tim - I mean, not at all. But they have… they have the same smile."
Callie knew that smile, from the photo that had always hung in Arizona's house, right by the door, no matter where they lived. It had been taken one summer when they were both in college, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, Tim a foot taller and a year younger, an arm thrown over Arizona's shoulder. He was much ganglier than Arizona, but otherwise, they looked identical, right down to their smiles.
"And - and it was stupid, because once I noticed it, I couldn't stop thinking about how much he was like Tim, even though he was nothing like Tim. I mean, we chatted about food a bit - what else do you talk about with strangers in New York? And he said all these things, all these different kinds of food - Chinese, I think, and Tim hated Chinese. But then he mentioned loving plain peanut butter sandwiches - and, and that was Tim's thing, even when Tim was an adult and I just-"
"Shhh," said Callie, fighting the urge to say "I know", because she did know loss, it was impossible not to think about the people she'd lost, Mark, and George. But there was also still so much she didn't know about Arizona's loss.
Once more, she was torn between anger and the impulse to protect Arizona from every bad thing in the world.
"Calliope… I - I don't think I've ever gotten used to it. I feel like my whole life is a lie, and that I'm just… that I'm just pretending to be used to it."
The naked honesty in Arizona's voice was like nothing Callie had ever heard from her before. Yes, she'd craved Arizona's vulnerability, reopening the trust between them, but this was the woman she'd once been married to. And Arizona was only finally telling Callie this now? And worse, how had Callie never seen it? How had Callie never caught onto it?
"It can't all be a lie," blurted Callie, unsure if she was saying it for Arizona or herself. "You're - you're not pretending now, are you?"
Arizona sat up, twisting to face Callie, and Callie's stomach dropped, worried that she had finally done it, that she had finally said the wrong thing, that Arizona's limit had finally been reached.
"I need you, Calliope. You know that, right?"
"I don't need much to be happy. I don't even need two legs. But I do know that I need you. I need Sofia, and I need you."
Arizona's words from several lifetimes ago came echoing back, and Callie felt stupid for her letting her emotions and doubt and exhaustion get the best of her get the best of her, because in this second, it was so clear that Arizona still felt that way.
God, they needed to talk. Callie could barely articulate about what, but they needed to talk, because all Callie wanted was to be there for Arizona, but it had been a struggle, all night.
And yet, here Arizona was, sticking it out, despite the stupid fears echoing in Callie's mind. And Callie was sticking it out, too. And there had to be a way, to explain to Arizona how angry she got but also how much she loved her and how much these conflicting thoughts made her head feel like it was going to explode.
But not now.
She'd made it this far. And so had Arizona, she reminded herself, admitting things she'd never admitted to Callie in any of the previous iterations of their relationships.
"Calliope? You're not a lie, okay? You and Sof - you could never…"
Callie started, Arizona's voice derailing her messy train of thought. Arizona's bottom lip trembled, and Callie sat up, reaching out to smooth a hand across Arizona's cheek, then squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.
"I know. I know. I didn't always know, but I do now. And I need you too, Arizona. Sometimes, I don't know how to need you, or how to be needed by you. And I get scared. And mad."
"Is it making you mad now?" Arizona asked.
Callie reached down and took one of Arizona's hands in both her own. "It was. It does sometimes. You know me, Arizona. I get annoyed with things sometimes. And I am really - and I mean really sleep deprived right now. Take usual sleep-deprived Callie to the power of ten, multiply it by twenty. That's like, four percent of how sleep deprived I am."
"I know." Great. Now she was making Arizona feel bad for her, when all she had meant to do was comfort her.
"Look- I just mean don't - don't worry about me being mad, Arizona. Right now what matters to me is that you're okay." Callie brushed a thumb across the back of Arizona's hand, and Arizona gave her a small smile. "Sorry for making it about me."
"Thanks, Calliope." The words came out softly. Arizona reached up with her free hand to rub Callie's bare arm, and her touch conveyed that she knew how much Callie was trying, and that she was succeeding. "It's been a long night. For both of us."
"Look, Arizona, we're going to be okay. That's what matters right now."
Arizona smiled, not one of her brilliant, dimpled smiles, but a softer, calmer one, that reminded Callie of another night where Arizona had come in late and woken Callie from her sleep. It was a smile that made Callie believe her own words.
"We're going to be okay," she repeated.
She settled back against the headboard in a sitting position and Callie joined her, their shoulders brushing and their fingers interwoven.
"Arizona?"
"Callie?"
"I know it's late, and I know now's not the time. But, uh - sometime, I uh, want to hear more about Tim. I mean, I know some. But you don't talk about him a lot. And you can. You know, if you want to. Even when you're not sad.
Arizona's head drooped onto Callie's shoulder. "I'm always thinking about him, you know. Him, you, and Sofia. You never leave my thoughts." A faint smile, etched with a few lines of sadness, turned up the corners of her lips.
"Thanks, Arizona." She pulled her wife closer in, kissing her on the head. She had learned a lot about Arizona tonight, and a part of her was still frustrated. But maybe she had been thinking about it all wrong. Maybe they shouldn't try to go back to the way they were before. Maybe they needed to keep trying to find something new.
"I think we should get some sleep. I've kept you up long enough," Arizona suggested.
Praise Jesus, sleep.
"Only if you're ready."
Arizona seemed to see through Callie's exhaustion, and she lifted her head, giving Callie a skeptical look.
"I mean, are you okay?" Callie asked.
"No." Well, she could admit it. That was something. "But I'll be worse if I haven't slept and I need to talk to Nicole and Kyle tomorrow."
"Yeah," said Callie, pulling up the covers so they could slide underneath. "And I have surgery."
Arizona tucked herself into Callie's side, the way she always did, and Callie wrapped around her, taking in every sensation, the familiar touch, the quiet sounds of their breathing intermingled, Arizona's scent. Callie wasn't sure how she'd lived so long without these things.
"Thanks for waking me," Callie murmured. "I'm glad I could be there for you."
Arizona's hand tightened around Callie's forearm. "Thanks for being here. I love you so much, Calliope. I can't do this without you."
"Neither can I, Arizona. God I love you so, so much."
They lapsed into a silence, both exhausted in different ways, by different things. Callie drifted off to sleep quickly, lulled by the steady sounds of Arizona's breathing.
The next day was a slog that tested Callie's negative supply of patience. After reluctantly detangling from a warm and clingy Arizona a little before five, Callie had stumbled into her clothes, made some coffee, and snuck into Sofia's room to press a kiss to her forehead. The day peaked there.
At the hospital, a two-hour routine procedure had turned into a four-hour one that had ended in an unexpected amputation. In between two more procedures and several cups of coffee, Callie yelled at three interns and two residents, only one of whom was actually on her service. Before she could bite her boss' head off, he had told her that since she had no more procedures, she could go home for the day and leave her post-ops and consults to what had to be the only resident she hadn't yelled at. Before he could change his mind, Callie headed home, changed into sweats, and immediately passed out.
She awoke some hours later to the sound of a shutting door and the smell of pizza. It entered her nostrils gradually, and she lay in bed for a few minutes, savoring the warmth of her blankets before she realized that the smell was, in fact, real, and not her imagination.
She found Arizona curled up on the sofa, reading a medical journal, with a box of pizza and a six pack on the coffee table in front of her.
"Hey! You're awake!"
"That for me?" Callie nodded at the box of pizza.
Arizona reached over and pulled open the box lid. "Help yourself. I got home about fifteen minutes ago, so it should still be warm."
"Pineapple? What happened to 'Pineapple on pizza is a crime against humanity'?'" Callie frowned.
Arizona tossed her a dimpled smile. "I guess I'm aiding and abetting tonight."
Callie stared.
"Why are you looking at me like that? It's just a pizza Callie. You've barely slept this week and you've been working crazy hours. I wanted to cheer you up. Eat it."
Sitting down, Callie helped herself, tearing into her first slice with vigor. Arizona ate more daintily, picking the pineapple off her pizza as she went and leaving it in the lid of the box. Callie shook her head, feeling more awake, and reached for a beer.
"This is amazing, thank you."
"Of course. I know you must have had a long day."
"No kidding." But now that she'd slept and had some food, she was already starting to feel more even-keeled. "Where's Sofia?"
"Oh, she's at a playdate, at Alana's apartment."
"Which one is Alana?" Callie could never remember which set of parents belonged to which child. Fortunately, Arizona had a gift for it.
"The one whose parents look like they never had sex."
Callie snorted into her pizza. "That girl is going to be so repressed, and that will not be good for Sofia."
"Better than that boy who has like fifteen snakes in his bedroom. We can't ever let her date him, Callie."
Callie shuddered. "No we cannot," she agreed.
"Anyways, we have to pick her up at eight-thirty, but we still have a few hours. I thought you could use the night off and we could just watch some trashy TV… or something."
Arizona's final words were suggestive, but also hesitant. A part of Callie's brain always wanted to have sex with Arizona, but she was still tired. And she was still emotionally hungover from last night, and not sure she knew how to articulate the things she wanted to say to Arizona, without making Arizona feel like it was her fault.
"Maybe we could just watch TV," Callie suggested.
Arizona nodded, and reached for the remote.
"You didn't have to do this, you know," Callie said, trying to fill the silence. "I would have been there for you last night, no matter what."
"Callie, I didn't do this for you because you were there for me last night. I decided to do this days ago."
"You did?"
"Yeah. I knew you were overloaded at work and I was stressed about this surgery and I didn't know how to be there for you. So I wanted to do something after my surgery, when my head was a little clearer. You know, to help you relax. Don't get me wrong - I also would have done it after last night. But it's not about trading favors or maintaining some balance. I just - I missed you. And I wanted to see you. And do something for you." She reached out and gently massaged Callie's leg.
"Oh," said Callie, unsure how to express how loved she felt, that Arizona had still been thinking about her, noticing how she was doing last week.
"Well, okay, I did add the pineapple because of last night," Arizona conceded. "But the rest of it - that's just how this works."
And less than a day ago, Callie had been so afraid that they were never going to get to a good place.
"How are you?" Callie asked. "If, uh, if you want to talk about it."
Arizona sighed. "Not great."
"Did you talk to Kyle?"
"No, just Nicole. I couldn't get into contact with him. I sent him an email and I'm sure he'll get back to me as soon as he can. But I'm worried. I hope he's alright."
"Yeah, me too. I hope it went okay with Nicole."
"It - it did, but I can't talk about this right now, Callie. I mean, I want to, but I don't think I can, until I know that Kyle's okay."
"Okay," said Callie.
"But," Arizona added after a second, "In a week, if I haven't brought it up yet, can you push me a little? Not a lot, just a little. Gently."
Callie nodded. "Of course I can."
"Thanks, Callie." Arizona reached out and squeezed her hand. Callie pulled her in and kissed the top of her head.
"You want another piece?"
Arizona sighed. "I suppose."
Callie rolled her eyes as Arizona accepted a slice from her and began to pick the pineapple off. Arizona did not miss her expression.
"I'll have you know, Calliope, even if I'm supporting your little 'habit' right now, I still think this whole pineapple on pizza thing is ruining our daughter."
"Oh, I'm the one ruining our daughter? You're the one who introduced her to blue-flavored things. Candy, snowcones. It's disgusting."
"We've been over this, blue is a flavor."
"It's not. It's sugar and a color."
"So is all candy," Arizona argued.
"Well by that logic maybe we just shouldn't give her any candy," Callie mused, a wicked grin spreading on her face.
"You can try that. I still want her to talk to me."
"You're soft," Callie nudged her teasingly.
"Well she has to have at least one parent who doesn't scare her."
Callie chuckled, and aimed the remote at the screen as she flicked through the channels. "Any requests?" she asked.
"Something trashy," Arizona replied. "Otherwise, I really don't care."
"Great. I'm not caught up on The Bachelor yet."
"Perfect," said Arizona. She nestled into Callie's side, and Callie wrapped an arm around her, fingers trailing through her hair as she selected an episode.
"Wow," she murmured, "I'm so behind."
Arizona peered at the list of unwatched episodes. "You really are slacking, Calliope. Better get on it."
"I will, just as soon as you stop talking."
Arizona lazily stuck out her tongue and grinned. Callie hit play and then pulled Arizona a little closer.
For the first time all week, her mind was quiet. Arizona wasn't being weird anymore, and Callie now knew why she had been earlier. But even more, Callie was no longer angry, because Arizona had opened up to her and because Callie had let her. Because somehow, they had pulled each other closer instead of pushing each other apart.
There was still so much to talk about. Callie wanted to know more about Tim, wanted Arizona to tell her more about the ways she wasn't okay, wanted to take away any pain she could. Callie wanted to find the words to explain how it could be hard sometimes, when Arizona explosively opened up to her, but that she didn't regret it.
But they would, when they were both more stable, more sane. For now, they were quiet, and together, and that was good.
"Callie?" There was a slight pout to Arizona's tone.
"Yeah?"
"Could you turn on closed captioning? Pretty please?"
Callie sighed. "You're a heathen, you know that? You better not fall asleep this time."
"Thanks, babe."
Callie picked up the remote and clicked a few buttons. "You're lucky I love you," she told Arizona.
Callie was joking, of course, but it warmed her heart when Arizona responded sincerely, "I know, Calliope. I know."
AN: I am definitely planning and have some paragraphs down for a sequel. No promises, but I'd really like to at some point, provided I don't go the way of George O'Malley and get hit by a bus. I might put some other stuff out in the meantime, though! This one was really hard for me to write, so I'm not expecting the next one to come quickly, but I did intentionally leave it slightly open-ended and would love to finish it.
Cheers!