Part Three – Bargaining
"Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything. The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose." - William Cowper
"It's not like I don't appreciate the silence," Dr. Wyatt started.
It had been a full three minutes since we began my mandated therapy session. And mandated was one of the many words that forced me to come here tonight. I was her last appointment of the day, which consequently got me out of the house before Calliope and Thalia came home. It's not like I was avoiding them, I was just avoiding the clash that I knew would happen if I spent more than ten minutes around either of them.
Dr. Wyatt gives me scowl and continues on. Apparently, listening will be added to the list humanistic of traits I'm lacking, post light-box battle.
"Because it can get old listening to surgeon after surgeon, but Chief Webber did make it pretty clear that you would not be allowed back in the operating room until you start talking."
At least she's honest and I could totally be too. Truthfully, I did want to speak to someone about what had been going on. Getting so angry that I had to smash hospital property is definitely a warning sign that I might be burned out. However, with Callie not being an option at the moment, Teddy would have been my next best choice, but somehow that didn't feel right either.
"And you look like the type of surgeon who can't be out of the OR for long."
She's right. I don't want to be out of the OR this long, but I figure I've got a good six or more months before I can even hold a scalpel steady. And Dr. Wyatt's couch isn't that uncomfortable. In six weeks, I'm sure I could get cleared monitoring surgery.
My good hand tightened around my bubble gum pink cast. It's definitely a color worthy of this Peds surgeon. Teddy had picked it out for me without even asking. Calliope had soaked and wrapped it around my wrist without looking at me. Now my hand and wrist were bound in it like a scarlet letter for everyone to see.
"Cast bothering you?" Dr. Wyatt asked.
I shook my head. My subconscious is bothering me.
Since surgery would be out of the question until I healed and completed physical therapy, I made the emergency room had become my new home. It took three very restless graveyard shifts, but with hands full of triage and trauma I felt like I could breathe again.
There was never dull moment especially with flu season starting to gear up again. Ambulances ushered in neglectful drivers and clumsy children packing with everything imaginable. But I knew every case, whether monotonous or exhilarating was just another way to drown anything feelings I had towards reality. And of course, it was all just a huge underlying excuse to avoid her. I hadn't slept at home with Callie since the incident. I didn't know what to say to her still.
Calliope made a few attempts at reconciliation by had stopping by with Thalia after her shift. Innocently, I believed these brief visits with one another would be a step in the right direction for us. But it was really just another way to carry on this falsehood that we were okay. At least the baby was honest. My pink cast fascinated, pleasing Callie and making me think that Lia could have a future in orthopedics. It was hard to miss the questions just bubbling underneath the surface. But her curiosity wasn't enough to make her leave the safety of mother's arms.
"You recently came back from Iraq. How long did you deployed for?" Dr. Wyatt asks.
"Nine months."
"It must have been incredible, you know, what you saw over there."
Incredible? I guess that's one way to describe it. Haunting might be another word to illustrate it. I was use to children being hysterical around me. The hospital can be a super scary place with all the smells, sounds, and shiny, sterilized surfaces. As a Peds surgeon, I did my best to give all my tiny patients a sense of relief even when I watched their parents fall apart. I guess that's why I was surprised when I got abroad. The soldiers who came through my OR were no different from the tiny humans except for one factor. They knew when they were dying.
Listening to them beg for more time was the worst. There were only so many times I could listen to these young men and women beg for just one more day with loved ones Swearing at God or who ever to let them live because they sacrificed for their country. I could deal with the anger, the acceptance, the lost will to live on, but the pleading for more time always got me.
Eventually, as do most doctors, I grew numb. I bottled it up forgoing burnout and saving my tears for when I was alone or around the few scrub nurses I could trust. But everyone knows when happens you keep every troubling moment to yourself.
"Are you finding it hard to readjustment to civilian life?"
Again, I shook my head though I pretty sure Dr. Wyatt knows I'm lying. The military life has its ups and downs; one of the biggest downs being my inability to talk openly with my fellow officers about my wife and child. During free time a lot of soldiers would attended defusing sessions to talk about how much they missed their families. Sometimes I joined in and would say I missed my best friend and her daughter, fearing the worse if I was ever found out. It was no different when I returned home. So I didn't attend group sessions with my unit.
"It's alright to be experiencing some anxiety after what you've been through."
"It's not me."
"Not what?" she asked, confused by my statement.
"It's Calliope and Lia."
"Your partner and daughter, correct?" Dr. Wyatt confirmed by looking through her notes.
"Calliope, she – I never wanted kids, you know? There are just too many possibilities for them to get hurt or sick. But early in our relationship, we broke up because of it. Then the shooter came through here…"
We lost so many people that day. Innocent lives of patients, nurses, staff, and doctors all for grief. Dr. Wyatt nods in agreement seeing where I was going with this.
"So we got back together and had Thalia."
"A child's a pretty big decision over such a traumatic event."
"But a life without Calliope would be super worse."
"So, you changed your life plan for the woman you love and had child together," Dr. Wyatt recapped
A curt nod validates her summary as I continue. "Then we had all those vets come through here and it was always a dream of mine to join up like my Dad and brother did, so I did it. Joined the army after she was born and then I got deployed. When I came back, Lia started acting like I'm a complete stranger."
"It can be perfectly natural for a child to be a little wary of a parent's return after such a long absence. "
"It's been a few weeks though and she still hasn't warmed up to me. She cries if she's left alone with me. And it's not just her. Callie never says more than five words to me at a time. And every time I try to fix it, one of them flips."
Dr. Wyatt smiles knowing the truth is one angry rant away. So just like floodgates opening, I flow.
"I saved the lives of civilians and soldiers with IED's going off constantly, getting shot at! Being scared out of my mind while working on a soldier who's just been brought in after being missing for three days, thinking he could have a bomb on him. And it makes me a hero! Everyone thanks me for how what I've done, but my own wife and child just look at me like I'm broken! Every debriefing said to this give it time! That this readjustment to civilian life is a two way street, but how long do I have to wait for my own daughter to realize that I would never hurt her!"
Tears are threatening at the corner of my eyes. Dr. Wyatt hands me the tissue box.
"There's never any set time limit for things like this," she tries.
"You're supposed to say things like that so people don't think they're strange for going something like five decades of not speaking to their dad."
"Do you want me to tell you it's abnormal for a child to stop speaking to a parent? Think about adults and adolescents. They're a classic example."
"Great! So if she fears me like I'm the devil now then the teen years are going to be an absolute scream. You know, you are really good at this 'making people feel better' thing."
Dr. Wyatt smirks, clearly intrigued.
"Why don't you tell me about the night you broke your hand?"
You mean the wonderful night when I had the beginnings of a migraine then got turned down for awesome office sex for a consult? And the cherry on top of the sundae: I nearly let a boy be discharged to his death. That night of awesomeness?
"Not a lot to say about that," I began, smoothing out my scrub pants. "Everything was just bubbling over from the day and I lost it. I should have just thrown something, but instead I hit the wall."
"Are you normally a violent person?"
"Excuse me?"
"Physically, I mean," she added.
"Never!" I shouted with a mixture of disgusted and surprise.
"Then what changed that night?"
"The tiny hum— my patients cry every time because I got use to treating swearing soldiers with shrapnel in their chest. You didn't have to think about bedside manner until later. We were there to control the bleeding and manage the airway, so you could save the soldier.
I knew it would be bumpy when I got here, but now I'm missing little things because I'm so wrapped up with my home life! Now every little thing in my life is punishing me for leaving. I failed Callie as a wife and I failed my daughter as a mother. And that sucks! That much I get, but it's suppose to be getting better and it's not."
"Is that why you destroyed hospital equipment?"
I don't answer her. Dr. Wyatt furrows her brow, studying me. We both look at her clock. Fifteen minutes down, forty to go. This hour's never going to end.
XxXxXxXxX
I couldn't get out of her office fast enough. Something about a dimly lit room filled with comfortable couches and motivational posters did not scream therapeutic. She called after me saying to follow up with her in a few days, but it didn't take a genius to know that wasn't going to happen.
A few quick steps and I found myself rocking back on my heels and rolling down the hallway towards the elevators. That's what I should have talked about! How much I missed being able to skate down the hospital hallways. It's not like I couldn't have worked a little Arizona Robbins magic on my boots and added a wheel or two, I just don't think the soldiers would get the same kick out of it like my tiny human do, or use to.
I rode the elevator down to the second level and made my way to the landing that connected the west wing to the east. The plan was to skate across it a few times, clear my head and attempt to not break a wrist in addition to my hand, but as I skated across the open corridor, I spotted Calliope below.
She was about to leave the building with Mark, Derek Shepherd for what looked like a celebratory early dinner. Mark play around and Derek mimicked some inside joke, while Calliope laughed. The look of shear joy radiating off her was one I hadn't seen in quite some time. To the passerby the three of them probably looked like the oldest of friends.
"Hey Robbins!" Teddy greeted me, as she took up a post next to me.
"Does that happen a lot?"
"What?" Teddy asked, bemused.
I nod in the direction of my wife and our coworkers.
"Oh, the new boys' club? I guess so."
"I get Mark Sloan, but Derek Shepherd? I mean come on! She gets annoyed just by looking at his hair."
Teddy snickers then turns around to look at the beautiful mountain scenery behind us. "It's her outlet, you know? The three of them never talk army, and they never talked about you. Owen and I kinda figured she needed it since every other nurse and doctor here use to follow up their Hey Callie, with a How's Arizona doing?"
"So you were her outlet about my deployment while Mark and Derek –"
"Took care of the rest."
"Does she still come to talk to you?"
Teddy shook her head.
But Calliope still goes to them. This time I turned around.
"I can handle your patients if you wanna catch up with them" Teddy offers. "I think they're just going over to Joe's."
Thirty minutes with Calliope sans daughter trying to rebuild us, or thirty minutes where Callie doesn't have to worry about her wife and can have a little fun?
"Nah! Come on, let's get some coffee before the stand closes."
*XxXxXxXxX
The night shift promptly went by with the aid of coffee and interns who could make even the dullest night interesting. I actually left earlier than I should have and return home to a sleeping Calliope and Thalia in our bed. Quietly, I joined them holding Callie as close as I could, savoring her warmth. Her body gravitated to mine without even knowing it.
Soon blonde curls enriched with a golden hue of sunlight had intertwined with the raven locks that adorned my bed partner's peaceful head. It was a stolen moment in our two-story colonial home nestled in suburban Seattle. She turned ever so slightly causing one of those tresses to drape over her face. The unknowing lock tickled her nose drawing her out of the faraway world I'd been watching her dream in.
"Good Morning," my tired voice spoke as I leaned in to kiss her nose.
"Did my pager go off?" she mumbled.
"Nope."
"Did the baby wake up?"
Sitting up slightly, I looked to the small lump sleeping behind Callie. She'd snuck in during the night to share the enormous bed with her mother. Morning cereal, cartoons, and closet monster stakeouts were probably the norm around here while I was knee deep in sand and bullets.
"Still sleeping," I replied then sat up, fixing my hair into a messy bun.
"When did you get in?"
"Like ten minutes ago. I'll make some coffee, k?"
She answers me with a half mumbled okay and slips back into a dream world. Grabbing her cozy robe, I slip downstairs to turn on the coffee maker wrapped in her calming scent.
As the coffee brews, I find one of Lia's favorite sippy cups and fill it with chocolate milk, which I know will be welcomed treat in the Torres/Robbins household.
Maybe Dr. Wyatt was right. There is no time line for this. I just have to take the good with the bad and revel in the moment. This morning will just be a perfect example. Breakfast as a family in the luxury of our bedroom.
I got out the breakfast tray and put a cereal bowl on there filling it with cheerios and milk. Two cups of steaming coffee accompanied it as I poured enough sugar and half-n-half in Callie's cup until it no longer resembled coffee, but a creation of its own.
Careful, I climbed the stairs though my feet were practically taking the steps in twos with a giddiness of anticipation that I hadn't felt in some time. There weren't many times the three of us could just lounge together like this without the stress of work looming over us. And with any luck, this could be a chance to lose some distance between us. Forget Dr. Wyatt , the Chief, or anyone else who thinks this is broken. If anyone was going to fix my family, it's going to be me.
But my optimism fell short as I neared the room and heard the two of them talking.
"Go?" Lia asks in a small, anxious voice.
"No baby. Momma's home now."
"No."
"Sweetie, we talked about this."
"No!" the tyke vocalizes even louder.
An enormous sigh escapes from her chest. It's an uphill battle to revive the love your child once had for their mother. We both knew it, but the sigh emulating deep within her sounds more like defeat than frustration. However, during all my sulking and Calliope's attempt at making our daughter understand, none of us foresaw what was coming next.
Post-traumatic stress triggers can consist of actions, places, visual stimulation, or sounds. Many veterans have them and continue to suffer from them even with professional help. Even Owen Hunt discovered he had one with the ceiling fan that lay above his bed. But I was about to find mine out in the worst possible moment ever just as the alarm clock on our nightstand turned 8 am.
Even though the alarm sounded off with boisterous decibels of lengthy tones, all I heard was…
Gunshot! Gunshot! Get Down!
The tray slips from my grip as I collapsed to the ground, ducking my head. The coffee mugs shattered on impact as scorching java sprayed against my skin, soaking into my clothes.
Incoming! I could hear the men shouting. Move!
Cereal sticks to me as I back myself against the wall.
I'm dead. We've been attacked and I'm dead.
"Arizona!"
I can't bring myself to focus. Memories of that hellish sand box cloud my vision as I recall the convoys, the soldiers, and the noise. Voices cried in agony as boys were rushed onto my surgical table, some just begging for more time. Just one last afternoon baseball game with their child or just another endless night wrapped in the arms of their love. Just one more moment before they left this Earth. Just a second to make their partner happy.
"Baby, please!"
Except this wasn't the desert. It's our home.
"Calliope?"
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I forgot to turn it off."
Turn it off? What was she talking about? I just heard M16's fired off in the comfort of our home. A sympathetic face picks up on my confusion.
"The alarm clock? What did you—"
She stops there finally getting it. She pulls me close, resting my head on her shoulder. Almost instantly, I see wet marks appear on her shirt. My own hand reaches to feel if she's okay when something wet rolls onto it, halting me. I'm crying.
Thalia is hysterical, waiting by the door with arms outstretched for her mother. I caused this. If I hadn't come home early, the two of them would have gone about their morning routine without a bump or snag.
"Ari?"
My good arm pushes her back as I get up and run down stairs. Her robe is swiftly discarded somewhere in the foyer as I grab my keys, run out to the car and get in. A quick glance at the monstrous scene is all I need as I peel out of the driveway.
XxXxXxXxX
It's almost eleven o'clock at night before I came back home. She must have called me more than twenty times before I finally fired back a quick text apologizing then turning off my phone. I didn't know where to go. I was in no shape to go to the hospital. Dr. Wyatt was always an option, but I knew I looked like someone who needed to be committed, so I just drove until exhaustion won out I returned home.
I headed straight upstairs to the bedroom in hopes to find Callie, but instead it was empty. Then I heard a voice.
"I just don't know what to do anymore, Daddy," Calliope says as she sits perched out on the back deck stairs. "She's Arizona, but she's not…. God, Lia won't talk around her, she won't come near her. It doesn't help that Arizona freaks out about the littlest noise. I didn't even let Thalia sleep in my bed tonight because I'm afraid she'll get hurt if she does."
It was supposed to be a private conversation; a weekly Sunday night phone call to her parents. Before I left Calliope would hold the phone up so Thalia could laugh for her proud grandparents as I spouted out a happy hello. They were happier times that I'm beginning to wonder if we'll ever see again.
I know she's trying to be quiet, but the window above her is the window to our bedroom and that deck redirects every sound perfectly into our room. A sigh escape my lips only to be mirrored by Calliope below me as she continued her to confess her aggravations.
"No Daddy, she hasn't hit me. She would never do that… I just – Some days I just don't know."
This should be an easy answer for me, but it's not. She's in pain; we're all in pain because we're so broken over a baby I originally never wanted and a career she never wanted me in.
"What do I do? She can't get the help she needs from the army without telling them about us and I know she's not going to go see Dr. Wyatt anymore. I don't know what to do anymore."
But I do.
This family was completely functional before I came back. I leave her to finish her conversation with her father.
Quietly, I enter Thalia's room. She's fast asleep on her new "big girl" bed complete with a princess veil flowing down from the top of the ceiling onto the headboard. Calliope picked it out knowing all too well that if I had been there during the shopping trip, it would have been exactly what I'd want for Lia.
Gently, I lean against the wall and slid down until my bottom rests on the floor. My eyes never leave the beautiful child in front of me.
"Thalia," I begin. "I know things aren't all rainbows and sunshine for us right now. You and your mom made this life together while I was gone. I think you were happy. So, I'm going to make a deal with you. If I can't make your mama or you happy again, I'll go away. I'll go back to the war or I'll move out and you'll never have to see me again. You can have her again."
Words like that are hard to come by, but a soldier needs to follows a few rules. One of them being I will never jeopardize the mission. I can't pretend any longer that things will go back to the way they were. I'm not even sure if I want them to go back to the way they were anymore. Who knows what damage I've caused to Callie or Lia in this month since I've been home.
"I just—"
My thought almost seems to die in my throat. I don't want to say it, but it's one of those now or never things. It hard not to still feel an immense amount of unconditional love for my daughter.
"I just want one day with the both of you, then you can have your life back."
I stayed by her bedside memorizing every inch of her tiny face.
By one am, I drag myself from her room and into our bedroom. Calliope is already nestled in under the covers. I take off my shoes leaving them right by the bed, then pull off my jacket and shirt. Two hands brush down my back as my bra is unhooked and tumbles down to my lap.
"I miss you," Calliope whispers into my ear.
Her voice causes a shiver to run up my shine and leaves me completely powerless as I stood up and slipped off my jeans and panties. Her arms lure me back into bed under the safety of the covers. Her tan skin mixes with mine, pulling us together in an intimate embrace. A hand sweeps my hair away as two chocolate eyes search for my own.
"Why did you leave?" she asks, sitting up.
"I just needed to get away."
"You're always doing that."
"I know. I'm sorry"
"Why won't you ever talk to me? What's wrong, Arizona?"
"Everything," I answer so small I'm not sure she even heard me.
"You could see Wyatt again now. It'll get better."
"But it would be easier if I left."
"No! Don't say that –"
I place my finger over her lips. "Please, just give me tonight. We can talk in the morning if you want. Just give me tonight."
She sits up and considers my request.
Before she can say no, take my hand and inch in underneath her shirt. My fingertips are met with the creamy concealed skin of her breasts. Sitting up to join her, my other hand takes the hem of her shirt and gently pulls it over her head.
"Arizona…" she breathes as I begging to massage her chest.
I want to look at her one last time and savor the way her nipple puckers at the added attention my hands begin to administer. But my eyes still can't seem to reach hers. It's a moment of reverence and humiliation all mixed into one for me, as I can't truly remember the last time I felt this turned.
Our lips are quickly drawn together like magnets as I let her tongue enter me. Eager moans escape her lips and muffle against my own as I catch her bottom lip with my teeth, giving it a playful nip.
"Are you happy?" I ask.
It's a simple question with a thousand more bubbling up behind it. What I'd really like to ask her is can you love me again even if it's just for tonight? Can you go back to the cherished time when you were still a resident and I was just named Head of the Peds department? A time when we would stay up all night making love and eating pizza, wrapped only in bed sheets and each other's arms.
"Of course! Don't ever think that I'm not.," she says, dejectedly.
It's enough to get me by even if she sounded aggrieved by the mere thought of my question. Before another thought can trouble her, I lay Calliope back on the bed then rid her pajama shorts and underwear from her body. Her legs find mine as we intertwine for another kiss. A swift thrust is met with a welcomed wetness as another moan erupts from Calliope's mouth. Accompanying it, my own primal growl as a hand retreats from her breasts and shifts down between us.
"Please Arizona!" she begs as I begin to make circles around her quickly swelling mound.
"Do you still love me?"
"Wh—What?" she struggles lost in a euphoria.
"Do you still love me?" I ask as my fingers slip down to her entrance, sweeping up the juices to cover everything my hand could reach.
"I never stopped!" she gasps as two of my fingers enter her, a grateful reward for her integrity.
The remainder of the night is spent exploring each others bodies. The whole time though I felt like we were just putting a band-aid on a hemorrhage. But who wouldn't take one more blissful night with the woman you loved before bowing out.