Arizona Robbins sat on the back porch of the house that she and Callie bought as a fresh start that felt like anything but at this point. She had a cigarette in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. Her phone, the bottle, a half full pack of cigarettes and lighter were on the small table on her left side while her prosthetic leg was leaning against the railing. A blanket rested over her lap. She had Sofia's old baby monitor out here so if she woke up she would be able to hear it.
Her makeup was scrubbed off; her hair in a messy bun, and she was wearing an old t-shirt that was kept at the back of her closet with a pair of loose fitting basketball shorts that weren't really her normal style.
She lifted the cigarette to her lips and took in a long drag. She felt the smoke filling her lungs and held it in as long as she could before blowing the smoke out then lifting the glass up to take a sip. She felt the burn over her tongue and down her throat as she swallowed.
Her eyes closed when she heard Callie moving around in the kitchen after coming home from work. Things had been difficult for so long that Arizona didn't remember when it felt like to be glad to hear her wife come home anymore. There was a time when hearing Callie in the kitchen would have brought a wide smile to her face and her moving to go greet her with a kiss. The kiss followed by an offer for Callie to share the events of her shift.
But now?
Now she just hoped Callie went to bed so she could carry out this agonizing memorial in relative peace.
Arizona took a long drag of her cigarette when the back door opened and Callie stepped on the back porch dressed from work. She couldn't look over and see the disappointment in Callie's face over her smoking and drinking. She refused to be judged tonight even if she doubted Callie knew why tonight was different from the one before or after it.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Callie stepped forward and set a small box down on the bench seat next to Arizona. Inside was a donut from a local shop. The chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles were visible through the cellophane on the top of the box.
"What's this for?" Arizona asked as she looked from the box to Callie with an unsure expression on her face.
"I know today is a hard day," Callie whispered as she played with her fingers before she shoved her hands in her pockets. "Things haven't been easy with us, but I wanted to try to make it suck a little less."
Arizona didn't know what to say to that so she took another puff on her cigarette and nodded slowly as she blew the smoke out. "He would be so disappointed in me," she finally said.
"Arizona," Callie whispered. She didn't know how to comfort her anymore outside of the donut she already gave her.
"Ten and a half months apart. The same grade in school, the same drive to push each other, the same drive to help people," Arizona whispered as she looked out into the dark of the backyard. "He was my best friend. He was my touchstone, so I knew which way was up. And then he died. He died because he had to join the Army, because that's what Robbins men did and he wasn't one to shy away."
Callie listened to the words coming from Arizona. She had spoken so little about Timothy that Callie didn't want to say or do anything that might make her stop.
"When I lost my leg, he would have been there. He would have been there, and he would have slept on our couch, and he would have pulled me out of that bed by my hair if he had to. He would have protected you from my anger. He would have protected me from the darkness in my head. He would have been the good man in the storm, because that's just who he was," Arizona said before lifting the cigarette up to her lips to take a long drag. "But he wasn't there and I pushed the darkness away, but it just wouldn't leave. And I was too proud to ask for help from the person I slept next to every night. Because I suck at being the weak one. So, I pushed at the darkness until I broke and slept with someone else."
Callie closed her eyes against Arizona's words. She made her hands into fists in her pockets at the thought of what Arizona did.
"For eight years, he hasn't been there. For birthdays and Christmases, for the funny moments and the terrible ones. I've had eight years of moments that I can't share with him. And I am mad at him for dying and I know it's stupid, but it doesn't make me any less mad. For eight years, I have wanted to pick up the phone or get on a plane and be where he is and I can't. And I hate it. I hate it more than nearly anything else in the whole world," Arizona sniffled.
"I'm sorry you lost your brother," Callie whispered instead of commenting on the other points she hit.
"I should have told you," Arizona said as she looked down at her hands. "About how hard it was in my head after the crash. About how dark it could be even before the plane crash."
"I wish you had," Callie said before she wrapped her arms around her to fight off the cool night arm and her own emotions.
Arizona lit a new cigarette and blew the smoke straight up. She closed her eyes tightly as she thought back to pervious years. "I can't imagine how difficult it was for you to tell them to take my leg when you knew I didn't want it. But if you hadn't give them permission I'd die. I never said thank you for saving me. So, thank you."
"I couldn't be in a world where you weren't, Arizona. I was prepared for you to hate me for it but I rather have you angry with me. I rather have you hate me, than you laying in the ground," Callie said. Her eyes welled up at the thought of what it would have done to her to have lost Arizona. "We have torn each other apart, but at least we're both alive."
"We are," Arizona nodded. She turned her head and noticed Callie with her arms around her to stave off the chill. She crushed out the cigarette that she knew Callie hated the smell of and moved the blanket to offer her a seat.
Hesitantly, Callie moved from where she stood to sit on the bench that Arizona was on. She brought the blanket up and wrapped it around her shoulders as the wives sat inches from each other without touching.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"What was he like?" Callie asked without turning to look at Arizona.
Arizona chuckled before she let out a breath. "He was very smart, and kind. He was the walk the little old lady across the street and help everyone move and drive you to the airport kind of guy. He loved to make people people laugh and was always quick with a smile and a hug. But he had his serious moments. He didn't like watching people be disrespectful of others. He could have a bit of a temper too when he got heated about something," she smiled a bit before leaning just a bit closer to Callie.
"But most of what I remember is how he would make me smile until my cheeks hurt when we got to see each other as adults. Or how he would run with me at five in the morning when I had to run before school, because Dad made me do a sport and running was the only one that I didn't need hyper coordination for. I remember how when I didn't get into Hopkins for my undergrad he found my favorite flavor of ice cream and watched chick flicks with me until I felt a little better. When I got into Hopkins for med school, he sent me a card telling me he was proud of me. I still have it in my office," she added as her smile went sad.
"He sounds like a great guy," Callie said. She took a chance and moved her hand under the blanket until she found Arizona's.
"He was," Arizona said as she laced their fingers together. "He would be wrapped around Sofia's finger. He wanted to be a dad so much. He would have made such a great father."
"You're a great mom," Callie whispered with a squeeze of her hand.
"You are too," Arizona said. "I love her more than I know how to explain."
"Me too," Callie said.
Arizona lifted her whiskey glass to her hand and took a sip. "I don't know what's going to happen with us," she said after she swallowed. "Tonight though, will you just hold me and let me miss my big brother? Can we just go upstairs and pretend nothing is wrong between us, please?"
"Yes," Callie agreed.
"Thank you." Arizona took another drink before offering Callie the last gulp.
Callie downed the whiskey before standing up. She started to fold the blanket while Arizona reattached her leg. As she fixed the blanket over the back of the bench, she kept her eyes off of Arizona's leg in hopes to prevent a turn in the evening. She picked the donut up so Arizona could have it in the morning.
"Let's go to bed, Calliope," Arizona said as she pocketed the cigarettes and the lighter and carried the whiskey and glass in her two hands.
Callie gave a soft smile to hearing her first name from Arizona for the first time in too long. "Let's go to bed."
