A/N: This is quite a lengthy update, but well worth the read, I promise! You'll get a pretty in-depth look into Arizona's past. Learn all kinds of fun and juicy tidbits about her. Because, come on, could we ever *really* know enough about her?

A/N 2: Research was done and her brother's name is based on a real person. RAMD Isaac Campbell Kidd, Sr. And yes, he was on the U.S.S. Arizona. I'm new to posting here and have no idea how to do a link, so I'll break it up and if you're truly interested, delete the spaces. I'm a historian irl so the background story is always important! :)

http :/ www. usskidd .com/ radmkidd .html

Enjoy the update!

CHAPTER THREE

The last three days had been insanely busy, sick children seemed to be as abundant as the rainfall in Seattle. Not that Arizona minded. In fact, she was secretly grateful for the distraction. Not the sick kids, of course, but for being able to drown herself in the never ending work. Several routine surgeries, a handful of emergencies, and a mile long stretch of paperwork forced Arizona to take up temporary residency in her office.

As she finished things up for the evening, she caught herself putting her "homework" in her bag as if she were going home. Well, to Callie's home, she thought. That had become so second nature to her, going home to Callie after a long day, it took her a moment to snap back out of the routine. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and unpacked her things, practically throwing them onto her desk with a slight aggression that wasn't really her style as they fell loudly and slid across the large surface. She slipped out of her shoes and drug her feet through the carpet, making her way across the office and threw her tired body onto the couch. She missed going home, she missed her bed, she missed…no. No thinking about her, thinking about her would only bring more tears. No. More. Crying.

As much as she missed her, there was still a tiny part of her, the stubborn side, the type A part, that wouldn't allow her to admit she was wrong for saying what she did. The part that made Callie have to fight for her from the very beginning, every single day, that was the part that wouldn't let her apologize. As much as she knew she needed to talk to her, to fix things, she also knew she would have to tell her why she said those horrible things to her. That awful thing.

They both knew it went much deeper than just a simple war of words. Callie's the one who had to feel the words, their sting, their malicious intent, and part of Arizona regretted that. The other part, the stubborn part, didn't want to back down, didn't want to give up the ounce of power she gained over Callie because of it. As her dad always told her, power is made by power being taken, never let someone take it from you without a fight. Be a good man in a storm and fight for what's right." She cringed at the fact that she used this rational for what she said to Callie, she knew that's not what her dad had meant, but somehow, somehow it bordered that line just fine enough for her to feel a tiny bit better about the situation.

And if Arizona looked deep within herself, she knew that she needed that tiny bit of power she had over Callie. Because it kept her sane and safe, and having that upper hand meant there was no way Callie could completely break her. Yes, if she took the time to realize that, things, perhaps, would be different. But right now, right now she needed to focus on the tiny humans, because they always came first.

Despite Arizona's best efforts, no matter how many games she played, pudding cups she delivered, or scalpels she held, her thoughts always strayed back to the night she had buried deep within her subconscious. The night that had changed everything she had worked for, the night that had broken her.

-Flashback-

Arizona sat outside her parent's home, quietly reflecting on the enormity of the situation that was moments from developing. She hated this part, the saying goodbye part, just the whole finality of it. Because there had to be certain sense of finality to it, after all, you never knew what could happen over there. She watched from the porch swing through the kitchen window, as her brother said his last goodbyes to their mother and father. This was his third tour, but the second was supposed to be his last for a while. But of course, the military being the military, things never went as planned. He and Paige had decided to start a family. He would have some time off after his big promotion, he could be there for the birth of his first child, he could help with the 3 am feedings and diaper duty. He was excited about the opportunity to share all those first moments, something he had feared in prior years because of his career. Missing all of those events that made being a father rewarding in the beginning. And then he got the orders that changed everything.

Isaac was dressed in his deployment uniform. Tightly hugging their mom as she cried silent tears, she hugging him back even tighter. They were all used to this part, the pain of it, even the slight anger that came when a loved one was shipped off. Her dad had been gone for most of her childhood, bravely and proudly serving his country. But his one-track mind for success and duty led him astray from the family on more occasions than she could count. It was hard one her, the lack of stability, having to grow up not knowing whether her dad would be home to kiss her goodnight or read her their nightly bedtime story.

He always read to her from the classics and novels about presidents and military history. He said he wanted his daughter to be well rounded and smart, to know things that other people passed over. He wanted her to be the best at whatever she chose, and having a strong foundation of knowledge was imperative. After all, knowing where you come from, he said, was half the battle of success. Half the time she didn't know what he was reading her, but she secretly loved spending that time with him, snuggled up against his chest as his voice soothed her and lulled her to sleep. She could tell you about every war, the important players, and the background, everything having to do with those significant events in our nation's history. Her favorite part was how his eyes would light up when she asked to be told about her grandfather and how she and her brother got their names. Arizona, of course, from the battleship her grandfather served on, and he from a Rear Admiral, and Medal of Honor recipient, who was a good friend of their grandfathers during World War II. She heard the story hundreds of times, each one was better than the last. And when he was gone, she'd close her eyes and listen to his words in her head, missing him so terribly she'd often cry herself to sleep. Sometimes Isaac would hear her crying from his adjacent room, and he'd tiptoe across the hall and climb into bed with her, grasping for her hand, and they'd fall asleep together without a word. They both missed him, but somehow Isaac always understood their father's call of duty, something Arizona never could accept.

As she got older, she got angrier when he'd deploy or travel across the country. She'd rebel and yell and act out, she took up smoking and opened her mouth far too often. It certainly was not a period in her life she was proud of, but, even as a military brat, she still deserved to miss her dad and even be mad at him sometimes for leaving. She knew he still cared and loved them all deeply, but he had a hard time saying no. Not only did they move around a lot, but her dad also left them a lot when he wasn't deployed. Various top-secret missions, training exercises around the country at various military bases, meetings with big wigs in Washington. While she was very proud of her dad, she often resented him.

Even still, she shared her father's desire for success. When they turned eighteen and Isaac joined the Marines, part of her, a part she tucked away deep inside of her, hated him for it. She never told him, she never brought light to it, but it was always there weighing on her heart. Just as everyone in her life had, whether physically or emotionally, he was leaving her, too.

Isaac had always known what he wanted. He loved the military, what they fought for, loved his country, and was a prodigy. And while he never discussed it with Arizona, he knew from the time they were children that he would serve his country. She, on the other hand, had always had two loves: kids, babies especially, and science; while her brother set out to follow in their father's footsteps, she had the book smarts he never seemed to care about when they were in school, deciding she wanted to help people in a different way instead.

There were moments just before her brother deployed for the first time that had changed Arizona deep down inside. Something told her he wouldn't survive, and trusting her gut above all and everyone else, she was terrified of him leaving. But she was a good man in a storm, so just as she did with her father, she held her head high, hugged her brother tightly, telling him simply, 'Don't be stupid and be the one to get yourself killed over there', and prayed every night that her gut was wrong.

While he was away, she moved far from home to college, and realized what she was meant to be. She got used to not having her "big" brother (by three minutes) there to protect her and she flourished on her own, doing well and growing up in ways she never thought she could. She spread her wings in the best of ways, away from her strict family life, away from her twin brother, away from military bases and the threat of deployment. She loved everything about college, the people, the atmosphere, the classes, the professors, and most especially the freedom. She craved structure, but she soon realized that if she created it for herself, she could live by her own rules, her own standards, and in doing so she could have the power over her own life. Free from getting her heart broken by depending on others. College was exactly what she needed to grow into the person and doctor she was today. She excelled at her anatomy, genetics, and biology classes, and decided her calling was medicine. After graduating, she decided med school was next. She wanted a new life out of the military as fast as she could get it.

Isaac, of course, came home safe and sound a year and a half later, went to college, met his wife Paige in their World Civ class, and fell madly in love. They ran off to Vegas and eloped, something her father never approved of, but something the rebel inside of Arizona rooted for and cheered and loved. She was good for him, grounded his free spirit, and stuck by him even through the hardships of being a military wife.

Arizona always admired her for that, she could never put up with what Paige and their mother did. She was strong, but having her father gone all the time had always caused her so much pain. And as soon as she felt love for the first time, she knew she could never live that life again.

Arizona studied hard while in college; her nose was always deep in textbooks and journals, a perky version of Cristina Yang. She made a few friends, but most of them were her professors, who saw her great potential and helped her in every way they could. She went to extra labs, buried her nose in the books, learning any and every piece of knowledge she could get her hands on. She memorized medical journals and textbooks, wrote in journal upon journal of how she thought surgical techniques she learned about could be perfected. She was a medical up and coming, one they said to look out for, but she never saw it that way. She simply wanted to do her best and be the best, and in all honesty, she was quickly becoming just as such. As her fourth year of med school approached she had to make a decision, the one that would shape the rest of her life. Her specialty.

While it wasn't a done deal until well into the later years of her residency, she knew she was on the fast track, and wanted to make a decision early so she could focus on molding herself into the type of doctor she dreamed of. Even before she graduated from med school, she was flooded with letters from hospitals around the country, petitioning for her to consider their program for residency after her internship was over. She was a rock star early on, and everyone knew it. But the thing about Arizona was that she knew she was going places, but she never let it get to her head. Instead, she used it to her advantage in order to gain as much knowledge and skill she could. She wanted to be the best; she needed to be the best, and she knew she had to do it on her own.

It wasn't anything new for Arizona to be finding her own way through life. She had never had a strong relationship with her mother. They butted heads often, and she resented her a lot throughout most of her childhood for favoring her brother as much as she did, using him, every bit his father's son, as somewhat of a replacement for her MIA husband. Obviously leaving Arizona to fend for herself most of the time. She didn't mind it so much in the long run and never really talked much about her childhood anymore. Mostly because it made her stronger, tougher, but it also hardened her, especially in her personal life where it made her uneasy and always hyper aware. She did things to push people, to see how far she could get under their skin until they either gave into her and she got her way, or she weeded out the people who weren't worthy of her. It also taught her not to expect things from people, especially not to be taken care of or coddled. She had to fight for the things she wanted, but not for relationships. She depended on no one except her brother. They were a pair, forever and always, and she knew he would always have her back. But other than him, she locked every one else out. She couldn't trust her father to be around long enough to establish any sort of solid foundation. She couldn't trust her mother to be there for her, seeing as she spent most of her time checked out, working, or overly attentive and strict. She grew up mostly on her own, but as she got older, she simply accepted it as a part of herself and tucked it away, never thinking twice about it.

Despite the strain that existed between she and her mom, she had always been thankful for her career because it led her to her own. Even with all of the moving around and never really feeling like a family, she had no complaints about her childhood, regardless of whether she talked about it or not. It wasn't a traditional upbringing, with her father being away most of the time and her mom working as an oncology nurse in whatever hospital was closest to the place they currently called home. Her mother would bring them both to the hospital on their days off from school. Arizona rarely saw her mother once they arrived, she hadn't wanted her kids to see what she saw every day, to be surrounded by people who were waiting for their impending, imminent death. Once they arrived at the hospital, Arizona was never sure when she would see her mother again. Occasionally they would all have lunch together, but most days they wouldn't see each other until the end of her shift. Sometimes even days passed before they would see her if a crisis broke out. They'd sleep in an on call room near the Peds wing, waiting until morning broke, only then knowing whether they would go home or stay at the hospital for another 12 hour shift.

It seemed like a crappy way to spend a childhood to those who didn't understand. Some of Arizona's fondest memories were spent around the nursery, learning all she could about the tiny humans fussing about in their pods. She always liked the tiny human description that Molly, the nurse who was usually responsible for Arizona during the day, had dubbed the babies with. It was her job to be the keeper of the tiny humans, to make sure nothing happened to them. Arizona loved the idea of getting to take care of them, spend time with them every day, and then be able to give them to their parents, shiny and new, sending them off into the world to grow up and live wonderful lives. To be able to bring them into the world safely and make sure they arrived home to meet their families. She often stood outside the nursery window just watching the babies, imagining where life would take them. She'd make up stories about their entire lives, all the exciting things they would see and do, all the amazing people they'd meet. She'd think up whirlwind romances and happily ever afters. She often wrote about the ones that captivated her, a journal she held onto even to this day, full of stories and drawings. It was one of those things that she kept tucked away, something she fell back upon when she had a rough day, something that made her remember why it was she did what she did. Something that reminded her other than the one reason she couldn't think about. Not anymore.

As she got older, Arizona began spending times in the pediatrics wing. She got to know many of the long-term patients there, talking with them and playing games or sneaking them snacks from the world outside of Peds. Kids of all ages were there with all sorts of things wrong with them, but Arizona often forgot they were sick. They were so full of life, eager to finally be able to leave the hospital and go back to school to see their friends, run around in the blazing hot sun, and just be a kid. It was only on days when one of the kids was missing because they had a bad night or something took a turn for the worse that she remembered how fragile they were. It was even more frightening when she was old enough to realize when their conditions were getting worse, when their bodies were losing the war and started submitting to the disease. The sparkle left their eyes, their smiles were weak, their animation almost completely nonexistent. But even then, even after their bodies had given up fighting, they were still brave.

Doctors and nurses and parents would try and gloss things over, but everyone, most of all the kid, knew their fate. But they were never afraid, and it always amazed Arizona that they didn't fear the unknown. Death didn't scare them; it was a natural progression, something out of their control that they accepted as a fact of life. They were resilient until the end, something Arizona deeply admired.

He finally managed to convince their mother it was time to let him go, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek, a dashing grin, and a sincere 'I love you', something for her to remember, for her to hold on to as his last words to her. He turned slightly to his father, standing up straight and tall, pushing his chest out slightly, and saluting him. Arizona scoffed at him and rolled her eyes, the dog and pony show of the military always got on her nerves. He returned the salute and pulled his son into a tight hug, not one of affection, more of one you'd give a friend after not seeing him for years.

Their father had been hard on him growing up. Arizona was every bit a daddy's girl, when he was around, but whatever Isaac did, it was never good enough for their father. They were never close, but he had always sought for his approval in everything he did, and this, she thought, was no different. Her father shook his hand as they pulled away from the hug and told him to be safe, strong, and to keep his vision clear and his senses keen. She knew what was next. She dropped the cigarette to the ground, grinding it under her shoe, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders as she stood, waiting for him to appear from behind the front door.

Seconds later he did, his hat tucked under his arm, making his way down the long porch to Arizona and hugged her close. Isaac – her brother, her best friend, and her partner in crime – was leaving. She always worried he wouldn't come back, there was always that twinge in her gut, but he was a good soldier. He was a Robbins. Robbins' fought hard for their country and fought even harder for the ones they loved.

Before he released his grip on Arizona, he leaned his mouth close to her ear and asked her to make him a promise. She took in his words, taking a deep breath, and nodded as he pulled back and gave him a small smile. Looking him square in the eyes, she placed her hands on his shoulders, nodded her head once to reassure him she would do everything she could to keep her promise. No, she would keep his promise, no matter what. There was no other option. And as he returned her nod, she pulled him tightly into another hug, whispering into his ear the same thing she had the other two times, 'Now don't be stupid and be the one to get yourself killed over there', while the soft tears she promised herself she wouldn't cry, rolled down her cheeks.

But this time was different, this deployment was much different, and they both knew it. They hadn't talked about it, Robbins' never did, but she knew if she didn't say something else, she would regret it, so she added, 'Things are different now, you know that, harder, I know. But I'm still here, and you know I won't let anything else happen. I give you my word. I'm the best, remember?' He leaned in and placed a firm kiss against her neck, pulling back and flashing her their signature dimples. This time was different, and as he got into the car, she felt the warm tears run down her face.

Two months later all she could hear were his words playing over and over in her head. She heard them in her sleep. They haunted her dreams. All she had to do was keep the promise. That's it. Promises were easy enough to keep, weren't they? But this time, all she needed to do was follow through, stay true to her word, and she was failing. Miserably. She knew it, her family knew it, and even the people at the hospital knew it. The fear of failure at this magnitude rung so loudly in her ears that it began to drown out the sound of his words altogether. But she still saw his eyes, how much he needed her to do this for him, how much they pleaded with her, how much they begged her.

She couldn't let him down, not with this, not now … and yet, she had.