A/N: Nicole Herman's tumor is such an amazing arc for Amelia and Arizona's character in Season 11, that I didn't want to minimize it here. Having rewatched S11 eps 13 and 14 again, I think I can honestly say that this arc and the build-up to it was probably one of the best since Season 4's 'Shepherd Method'

Trying to write it in this new context with Lexie and an undivorced Calzona was a challenge. I admit, I did borrow quite a bit from the show for this arc, but it works out nicely. Shout out to smiley714. Honestly, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't give Calzona this kind of attention. So…

Hope you like!

Another time jump here.

Enjoy!

Three Days Later:

Arizona walked as quickly as her prosthesis would allow, balancing her coffee and an armful of charts as she headed up to the neuro wing. Striding up to the door to her mentor's room, she knocked sharply on the doorframe. "Morning!"

"Ugh, Robbins, are you ever not chirpy? Does that ever happen?" Dr. Herman winced, rubbing her head.

"Are you ever not snarky?" Arizona snipped back, though with a teasing smile. "Also, you snore. I'm not crashing in your room again without earplugs." She'd sequestered herself here last night, her worry taking over her need for a comfortable bed. If something happened to Nicole, she didn't know what she would do. It would be as if all her work was for nothing.

"I brought the cases like you asked," she said, dumping the charts on the side table. "Did you catch up on the audio tapes I had Brooks make?" Because Herman was still blind. Not completely, but she could only see shadows at this point. "Also… I referred Glenda Castillo to Martins in Sacramento. Obviously we won't be able to tackle that surgery," she said, taking a seat and picking up the first chart. "Our first case is the diaphragmatic hernia, baby is 27 weeks-"

"Robbins!"

"-Treatment is a tracheal balloon occlusion-" she continued, ignoring Herman. They just didn't have time. And she wanted to be prepared. She had to know this case inside and out, and all the potential outcomes. Richard had put in a call to one of Herman's colleagues to come and attend to the few surgeries they had left on the docket, but hadn't heard back yet. It would take time to bring someone new in.

And, admittedly, Arizona didn't want someone new teaching her. She wanted Dr. Herman. Snarkiness and all.

"-Robbins, I don't want to be buried. Have me cremated."

"What?" Arizona's thoughts screeched as Herman's words jolted her.

"When I was a kid my mom told me that when I died, I'd go to heaven. I just... Couldn't picture it. All I could see was cartoon babies with wings," Herman said, blinking up at the ceiling.

"I- um," she tried to speak, but nothing came out. She had nothing to add to Herman's picture of cherubs. When she was a kid, she imagined passing on as something like dandelion seeds floating in the wind. Drifting on to start a new life. But cremation-

"-And another thing," Herman waved a finger. "If I survive the surgery, but don't wake up… give me five days. A week tops, and then pull the plug."

Pull the plug? No wait- what? "Nicole-" They were supposed to talk about neonatal surgery, not final wishes. She drummed her pen on the chart, biting her lip.

"If I do wake up, but I'm dependent on tubes or vents, then pull the plug too," Herman added, certain and matter-of fact. Like she already knew she was going to die.

"You're not gonna die," Arizona insisted. "You're not gonna wake up gorked… Shepherd and Grey know what they're doing. They do."

"Okay, sure," Herman patronized, clearly indicating she didn't believe Arizona at all.

"They do!" She swallowed. They did, didn't they? The pair had been working intensely for the last week. She hadn't seen Amelia at all, and only saw Lexie because Mark was looking after Sofia these last couple days. Something she was so grateful for.

"Okay, fine!" Herman snarked. "Now we've only got half an hour before my MRI. Julie Hall, Vasa Previa. Treatment plan?" she asked.

Relieved to finally be off this morbid trail of conversation, Arizona picked up the chart and began reading aloud, ignoring the niggling doubt in the back of her mind. Shepherd and Grey had this. They could do this.

Right?

xxx

Lexie watched as Edwards helped Dr. Herman onto the table for the MRI, her mind going over the plan she and Amelia had created over the last week. It had been an intense journey as they collaborated to bring every weapon in their collective neurological arsenal to combat this tumor.

Any surgeon, dare she think possibly even Derek Shepherd himself, would have rejected this case already. Especially since it was already pressing against the optic nerve.

But somehow…

Amelia had convinced her to try.

"Coffee?" Mark asked, sliding in.

"Um…"

"It's okay, you're allowed." he said, sliding into the seat beside her. "You guys are cultivating quite the buzz you know? The residents are selling seats to the gallery, pending scheduling of the surgery." He sipped his drink, watching her.

Lexie picked up the cup appreciatively, hoping he wouldn't be mad at her for not coming home. Mark could be very protective of her, and now that she was pregnant, she was expecting him to be like a dog hiding a bone. "Thanks… um for the coffee."

"How are you feeling? I didn't see you this morning."

"Yeah…" she drew in a breath. Crap. Now she'd have to tell him. "I actually didn't come home last night. This tumor is nothing short of spectacular," she couldn't keep the awe out of her voice. A grade IV astrocytoma was a once in twenty-five lifetime thing. "Amelia and I have a lot… a lot on our plates."

"I can see that," he placed his hand on hers. Gentle, supportive… he wasn't fighting her on this? "Um… are you two… getting along?"

Oh. That's what he's worried about. She rubbed his fingertips with her thumb. "Dr. Herman is an amazing, almost one of a kind surgeon. We can't lose her. I've just been focusing on her. Saving her life, so she can save more babies," she said. Her left hand rested on her still flat stomach. It was weird, being pregnant, but not feeling pregnant, well, except for the nausea.

Admittedly, she still sometimes forgot that there was a little live peanut inside her. Especially when they were deep into this surgery and it's outcome.

"This tumor… it's-" she shook her head. "Look at it, really look at it," she said, showing him the previous MRI. "It's size, it's shape. How it's invading healthy tissue, even the way it grows. It's like a little baby, nested in the brain, growing."

"To the tumor, you're cancer." Mark said, staring at the image.

"And we're going to stop it. Tear it from its happy little home. We're barbarians. Soulless, murderous monsters…" she trailed off as she remembered another tumor. One that Derek faced, one that was buried deep in Izzie's brain. "It's not just a tumor. It's ingenuity, adaptability. Strength. It's poetry. And it deserves our respect." This had to be approached with care. With reservation. It would require everything they had.

xxx

"And whatever the mother says-" Herman was telling Arizona when her pager beeped.

She pulled it up, glancing at the small LCD display. "It's our umbilical band patient. There's signs of fetal distress," she sighed which meant only one thing. Surgery.

"You're up, Robbins." Herman said as she exited the MRI. "Training wheels are off."

"Nicole… I can't. I'm not ready."

"You have to be. It's emergent."

"I've never had to-"

"Listen, Robbins-"

"I don't know if I can-"

"Stop! You're not hearing me!" Herman barked, squeezing her arm.

Arizona froze.

"I'm not ready to give it to you either, Robbins. I was fine with dying… but then you and Shepherd infected me… with all this hope. And I hate it.

"You're all I've got. You're my brain now. You're me. I wish I could've shown you more, I do. But I know that I taught you enough. I trained you enough. I have to trust I picked the right horse. You could at least act like you deserve it. Take over. Do well. Make me not regret it… Can you do that? Please?" she asked.

"Nicole-"

"No more discussion. You've got this, Robbins," Herman said emphatically before Edwards wheeled her away.

Arizona stared after her, gripping her charts and notes, and feeling very much like the world was slipping out from under her.

xxx

Entering the scrubroom, Arizona tried to still her shaking hands. Through the window, her patient waited. The fetus needed the umbilical band clipped. She'd seen it… read about it… but never actually held the tools in her hand. Now it was on her, she was the only one in the hospital who could even try to attempt this procedure. The training wheels were off, it was do or die.

Arizona exhaled loudly, forcing herself to calm. This was it. She turned on the tap and began her scrub routine.

"Hey!" Callie's voice rang, surprising her.

She spun to see her wife in the doorway. "What… what are you doing here?" she asked, upset that her hands started to tremble again.

"I'm just checking in, seeing how you are. I- um… You didn't come home last night."

Hands on her thighs, Arizona tried not to be angry at Callie for interrupting her, interrupting this. She was just worried, and righteously so. Arizona had forgotten to text Callie that she'd be staying overnight, and she totally forgot their breakfast date.

She knew their relationship was struggling to survive. Despite their brief make-up after the earthquake, Arizona had still been very focused on her fellowship and Dr. Herman's condition, leaving Callie alone.

She didn't want to leave her alone like that, it was just… Nicole had no one. Callie had Mark, and Sofia, and all their work friends if it came down to it. So, she chose to spend her time here where she could make a difference, however slight.

Now, a baby's life was on the line…

And it was her turn.

"I'm scared, Callie. I don't… I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted. "Herman left me her legacy… but I feel like I've barely scratched the surface." She stared back into the OR, at her draped patient, the baby inside desperately fighting for life.

Callie stepped inside and leaned against the door, her dark intense gaze contrasting with her red-swirled scrubcap. "Listen, you got this. You can do this. You worked too hard, and you're too smart, Arizona, to give up now. There's a tiny, tiny human in there that needs you."

"But I-"

"Okay, look. You still have an out. Right now. Tell me you can't do it, and I'll get Webber to fly someone in. No pressure, no shame, just honesty. Can you do this surgery, or not?"

Arizona actually gave herself a moment to consider it. In her mind, she went over the procedure as she'd seen Herman perform… as she'd studied. She imagined all the notes scribbled in the margins and saw them perfectly in Herman's neat writing.

In her hands she held the laparoscope and micro scissors. The bands were dangerously cutting off the blood supply to the fetus. She imagined feeling the pinch of the blade as it sliced through…

The slight, tiny cauterization to stop the bleeding, and then a few closing sutures. Done. "I can do this," she said with a nod.

"Yes, you can," Callie said with simple confidence. "Amelia and Lexie have Dr. Herman covered. We've got the Shepherd prodigy, and photo-Lexipedia… the very best. Even Edwards, and you know she's the resident to beat."

"Thanks," Arizona added, staring at her wife. "We're going to get through this," she added, and began scrubbing in.

"What?" Callie asked. "Arizona?"

"What?"

"Just… you said 'we.'" Callie said.

"Well, you said 'we,'" she responded.

"Are we a 'we' again?"

"I would very much like to be."

"Yeah…" Callie agreed, smiling back. "Look, a bit of advice? This isn't any different than your days as a resident. You've been here before. I know you know your stuff. Just imagine her with you in the OR. It sounds freaky… but trust me, it works."

"Thanks. I got this," she said, slipping on her mask and turning on the tap to begin scrubbing.

"Yeah," Callie said, "you do."

Arizona shook the water from her hands and backed into the OR.

You're up, Robbins.

I believe in you.

Carefully and methodically, Arizona began the procedure. She closed her eyes, imagining Herman over her shoulder. Her hands worked of their own accord. Not as graceful as her mentor's, but graceful enough.

You want to find a spot with just the right amount of give. That's where you want to cut.

"Scalpel."

She guided the shears carefully under the skin, and through the uterus, watching the vid, and being extremely careful to avoid the fetus. She just needed to slip these shears under the band. Easy peasy. Snip. One down, two to go. Carefully, she worked to the other side. Snip. Okay, one more.

Arizona took a breath. This was the most difficult part. The band was tightly wound around the baby's foot. She moved the shears, but she needed to bend it… or...

"I can't get the last band… the grip's not flexible enough," she said aloud.

Can you coax it through? She heard Herman say.

Arizona gently pressed it against the band. "No… It… there's no give… -"

You have to cut the band.

"I know." Arizona fidgeted with the shears, but it wasn't working. Smaller scissors wouldn't work either. She just needed a better angle. An idea occurred to her. "Somebody hand me a glove."

The scrub nurses looked at her questioningly, but did as ordered. Quickly she pulled the shear out and slid the glove over it. "Scissors," she requested. "I just need a more flexible opening," she said, snipping a small hole in the glove for her shears to slip through. "It's a ped's move."

That's not in my notes, Robbins.

"It's gonna work." Now having more flexibility and control, Arizona maneuvered the shears to softly snip the last band. "Ha! It worked! It absolutely worked!"

Excellent. You should be very proud of yourself.

"Alright," Arizona sighed, feeling the weight roll off her shoulders. "Let's close."

Wow, Arizona thought. I did it. I saved a tiny, tiny human all by myself.

Not quite by herself. Callie had helped, given her the nudge she needed. And it didn't hurt to have a spiritual version of Dr. Herman hovering over her shoulder, though she'd probably never admit that to anybody.

Just then, her pager beeped. Julie Hall, her Vasa Praevia patient. "Dammit," she muttered, trotting to the elevator.

"What happened?" she demanded as she entered Julie's room.

"Pressure's dropping!" called Dr. Pierce.

"Ohh," Julie moaned, clutching her belly.

"She's cramping!"

"She has Vasa Previa," Arizona informed, sliding on her gloves. "She was scheduled for an ablation tomorrow." She turned to her patient, and gathered her courage, as much as she could. "It's okay Julie, I got you," she said.

"I've been trying to get the pressure up, but there's no fetal heartbeat," Pierce said, checking the fetal monitor.

Arizona's stomach dropped, her heart squeezed with anxiety for her patient. But she forced herself into the moment, focusing on Julie. There was still a chance. Babies were strong, resilient, and there was still a chance to fix this. "Where's her husband? Keep him out of here."

"Is that blood? I'm bleeding?"

Crap. The sheets were soaked dark red. Julie was hemorrhaging. There was only one solution now. She had to deliver.

"Okay. We're going to deliver. Gown me," she called to a nurse.

"No, wait…Where's Dr. Herman?" Julie desperately grabbed at Pierce's lab coat.

"I need a C-section tray, and call peds for an incubator," Arizona barked. Now, in this moment… she was Dr. Herman. "We're going to give you something to calm you down, okay?"

"Wait! I'm going to have the baby now?" Julie cried as Maggie pushed sedation through her IV.

Everything swirled around. Arizona froze, taking a breath. She'd never performed a crash C-section before. Not like this… with so much at stake. With so much blood. Her colleagues looked at her expectantly, as she stared at Julie's Iodine soaked belly.

You know what to do, Herman said from over her shoulder. It's the same basic steps.

Open the abdomen, open the uterus… and deliver.

"Okay. I'm okay." She reassured everyone. Especially herself.

And then she made the cut.

xxx

In the cafeteria, Callie searched for Arizona, but didn't see her. She should be done her umbilical band surgery by now, she thought. Unless there were complications. With a sigh, she joined Mark and Lexie in the cafeteria. "Hey," she said somberly.

"What's with the long face?" Mark asked.

"Nothing… I just-" she stabbed at her salad. She missed her wife. And now she was worried. Again. After she spent the last two hours convincing herself to not be worried. "How's the surgery planning going? Have you figured it out yet?" she asked Lexie.

Lexie didn't get a chance to finish chewing and answer before Callie jumped in again.

"It's just… she's sick. Herman is really sick. And blind. And Arizona's really attached. She's staying over and having sleepovers in Dr. Herman's hospitalroom. After everything we've been through, we can't lose Dr. Herman… because if she does… I don't think I'll have a wife anymore, so-"

"Um-"

Callie couldn't stop it. Her freak out. Normally, at this point, Arizona would kiss her or smack her or something to make her shut up, but Lexie was not used to this, and Mark… well Mark just thought this whole thing was amusing, she could tell by his shining eyes.

She kept going,"I mean, I know you're good, but are you Shepherd good? Derek Shepherd Good, not the Other Shepherd? Are you two actually gonna be able to work together on this? How long is the surgery anyway? Should you actually be working together standing over an open brain if you can't get along?"

"Callie-" Mark finally interrupted, as Lexie's eyes got bigger and bigger but her body shrunk smaller and smaller into her chair.

"What? I'm worried! There is a lot at stake here, okay? Any minute now, they are going to slice Herman open, dig around in there… and take out that tumor, and who knows what will be left? All of this… Everything Arizona and I worked for… Us… It could be ruined with a scalpel."

Mark scoffed and shook his head. Figures. He had unwavering belief in the Shepherdpedia duo, didn't he?

But she knew she'd worn out her welcome with all the exploding doubts. That was stupid. Dammit! "Sorry." she said, standing up. "I'm just… I'm going to go."

"Callie!" Lexie called.

She turned back.

"You don't get to do that. Just come over here and vomit your doubts all over us. Question everything! What do you know? Nothing! You wouldn't be able to dissect down to the thalamus if it was dyed with red flourcine and told you where it was! Shepherd and I have been working day in, and day out, throwing every idea we have at this thing. The tumor is fierce, and intimidating and aggressive, but so are we! Instead of hanging the fate of your marriage on the outcome of this surgery, why don't you do something to fix it!"

"Damn, girl… all right," she said. Callie was trying. She just didn't know how much more supportive of Arizona she could be. Despite how much she loved her, despite how much she needed her… She was sure Arizona couldn't take this one last blow. If she did, it wouldn't be long before she picked up on Callie's slow percolating jealousy.

It was something she only recently recognized. After Arizona's forgiveness, Callie had lain in bed… thinking. Just… going back in her head. Trying to find where it all started for her. Because… while Arizona's affair with Leah certainly damaged things, it was long over, and Callie was trying to figure out why she kept hanging on to it, like some sort of weapon.

And then she realized why.

Arizona's dream was to be a surgery Goddess. Working with Herman in Neonatal would launch her immediately into the top five percent of surgeons, likely.

Callie's dream? What made her happy? Truly happy?

Kids. Kids of her own. But she wasn't able to carry a child, and Arizona tried, but quickly gave up. Though she loved Sofia, Arizona didn't pine for another like Callie did.

So- Arizona would have her dream, could be happy, doing what she loves.

And Callie… couldn't.

If Dr. Herman didn't survive, Callie was afraid she could no longer be supportive of Arizona… It sounded so petty and cruel, but… it was… how she felt. And she didn't know what to do about it.

Still- "I'm going to look for her… Anyone know where she is? She's not answering my pages," Callie asked.

"There's that lounge off of the pedes ward, I think they took it over," Mark said, "Stole my favorite couch."

"The one with the dip in the middle?" Lexie asked.

"Yup," he replied.

"That couch thief! I loved that couch! It was perfect for-"

"Okay… TMI!" Callie interrupted. "Gonna go look for my wife now…"

xxx

Callie took the stairs to pedes, poking around till she found the lounge Mark spoke of. She knocked on the door. No answer. But when she tried the knob, it was open. "Arizona?"

A huge sob greeted her. "Callie-" Arizona wiped her eyes.

"Oh! Arizona… Hey." Callie stepped in. Oh no… what now? "Oh my God, are you okay? What's wrong? Is it Dr. Herman?" she asked, feeling the fear creep up.

"No- I-she's-" Arizona snuffled. "My patient-"

"Oh." Callie understood, "ohh," she said. Sitting next to Arizona, she took her into her arms.

"I can't do this," Arizona blubbered, "I thought I could. I really did. I thought I knew enough… I wasn't ready, but I thought I could be… I thought- I don't know what I was thinking. What was I thinking?!"

"Oh honey," Callie pulled her wife closer to her, feeling her heart crush with Arizona's. She didn't know what to say.

They really didn't need this right now.

Callie sat, gently rocking and kissing Arizona, her gaze on the five colored index cards stabbed into the bulletin board without a clue as to how to help her.

"I can't stop crying," Arizona croaked. "Make me stop crying. Yell at me."

What? "You want me to yell at you?"

"Please, I can't-I can't stop."

Callie gritted her teeth and pulled away. "Arizona, Stop it. Stop crying! Stop!" she yelled, shaking her.

"Mm, okay," she wiped her eyes. "Okay," Arizona sat up and blew out a long breath. "Thanks. I needed that."

"Sure," Callie sighed. "Arizona, you did your best. I know you did."

"That thing you told me… about imagining Herman… it worked. It was like she was right there. It was incredible. I mean I was too late… but it worked."

Callie knew then, what Arizona wanted, and needed to do, even though she herself didn't want to admit it. This was her wife's passion. Surgery. Holding tiny humans in her hands… saving lives. She stared at the bulletin board. Each index card was a surgery that Dr. Herman had chosen. There were about five left.

Arizona got up and removed a card. "Julie Hall," she sighed. "My patient. Her baby… he died."

"What would Dr. Herman say?" Callie asked.

"I don't… I don't know. Stop crying," she chuckled humorlessly.

Callie stood up and looked at the board. "So, what are these? More patients?"

"Yeah… the procedures she wanted me to do to finish my fellowship."

Callie fingered one of them, hating what she was about to say. But… she had to. "So… maybe you should pick one."

"What? Callie, I'm not Nicole Herman."

"But you are! I've seen how hard you've worked! I helped you, remember?"

"But I don't know how to do these ones yet," Arizona said. "Herman's going to go into surgery any day now and I can't-"

"Stop saying you can't! You can! I know you can! You are the best surgeon in this hospital, and I'm not just saying that because you're my wife," Callie yelled, suddenly unable to stop herself. "You are the best! And it's what you need to do. What you have to do… to move on. To become better. You have to save a life. What's this?" she asked, picking up a file from the coffee table.

"Oh. Glenda Castillo." Arizona flopped back down on the couch. "Bailey's passion project. She's been after Herman to do her surgery… but" She looked at the board. "There wasn't enough time, I referred her to Sacramento."

Callie flipped through it. "I remember her. Her husband died on the table."

"She's been admitted until we find someone to do the surgery."

"But could you do this?"

"Callie, I just delivered a stillborn. I held a dead baby in my arms. He was so still- so… I-"

"Sh, sh. Hey, it's okay," Callie said, dropping the subject like hot coal. Anything to keep Arizona calm right now.

There was a knock on the door, and it opened before she could tell them to scram.

"Hey," Mark said, his mouth set in a grim line. "Just got word. Herman's surgery is on."

TBC...

A/N: Whew! Hope you liked! I actually really enjoyed writing Arizona. I wish the show had more of her in Badass surgeries. And I love Dr. Herman… Geena Davis is excellent for the role.

Anyway, leave a review! I have also updated Save Me and Gone Baby Gone! Don't forget to check those out!

Next chapter will focus on Amelia and Lexie's POV before Herman's surgery.