To the guest reviewer (about Denny/Izzie): Yeah, I guess you're right. But Denny was a hallucination of a cancerous Izzie, not really a ghost. It is sorta similar, though… oh well.

Thanks a lot for the kind reviews, I really appreciate them.

This chapter may not exactly be what you were hoping for – it connects with the next chapter.


The rain pattered heavily on the grass beneath her feet, and with enough force, one could easily lodge their foot through the light layers, ripping it apart, creating in its stead a slush of mud – though it was really just soil, she supposed. But wasn't mud soil? Well, that, along with a mixture of other crap that she couldn't really remember at the moment. It was funny, she briefly thought, how the rain could mix with dirt and suddenly turn it into a disgusting force of nature. It would slush on your feet and leave stains in its wake. It was like snow, in a way. She hated snow, too.

And it was cold, anyway. But there was no snow in the graveyard. She heard the muttering of the facilitator as he bid farewell to the person in the coffin. Her knees still trembled, though she stood as stiff and straight as she could allow herself. The murmuring gasps and cries only made her grow increasingly tired. She was so tired. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder, then, and looked to the man who stood just beside her.

He nodded his head – she wasn't sure why, but he nodded his head, signifying something, gesturing at something and then she quickly realized that the coffin was being put into the grave. The pit. Whatever it was.

"May Timothy Robbins rest in peace, he was a brave soul," her father announced. "He fought for this country with pride and honor."

No one had expected rain so early in the day. Some people among the crowd held umbrellas, but most people had none. So everyone was relatively soaked, Arizona observed. Including herself. The air was cool and accompanied with the rain, it made her feel exceptionally cold. Freezing, almost. The tips of her fingers felt the worst, she could hardly feel them. They were frozen.

The coffin slowly made its descent into the pit now. She was always weak against the cold, she reflected. Her body would become immediately chilled and her fingers were always the most vulnerable, the fastest to freeze.

The coffin descended into the grave. She wasn't too close, she made sure to line up in the back, much to her parents' disapproval. But they did not spend much time bickering over it, for they seemed to have rightly understood her feelings.

But now she wasn't sure what to feel. She felt nothing, really. Emptiness. And a little bit angry. Funerals were always exhausting. She felt Richard clutch her shoulder harder and wondered if he thought that she would burst into tears. She wanted to laugh at the thought, but she knew it would strike others as odd. So she decided against it.

Soon, people made their way out of the graveyard. They had expressed their sentiments to her parents, to her as well, until she grew tired of it and walked along the concrete path that led her to the entrance of the graveyard. Her parents had not said a word to her. So entangled they were with her brother's death, they did not acknowledge her departure.

She reflected on the day before. Her mother must have certainly told her father.

"Arizona," her mother lectured. "Please, not now."

"But I-"

"It's not the time for jokes."

"It's not a joke!" she retorted.

"I don't," her mother started, arranging the plates on the table for the strange wake that was to take place in a few hours. "I don't care about that right now."

"Mom…"

"And your father doesn't need that, either."

"I just needed to tell you, I just needed to," she explained, but quickly faltered on her words. The letters resounded in her head. His letters, his words. "Tim supported me."

"Tim wouldn't support such nonsense."

She realized, then, that she hadn't control over anything. She could not fix anything. Tim was dead, she couldn't stop it. She couldn't expose to her parents something so personal to herself, they were completely dismissive. Liking women seemed to only be a joke to them. In the midst of Tim's death, nothing seemed to matter. Not even the fact that his body was not even there.

Perhaps it was a foolish decision to reveal something so big at such a grim time.

"Tim supported me," she had said. He really had. He was going to dance at her wedding. But what did it matter now? Tim was dead, she couldn't stop it. She had no control over anything.

Not the funeral service, not his death, not declaring her sexuality, not anything.

The rain was settling now. She heard hasty footsteps behind her, knowing that Richard would follow behind her.

"Arizona!" she heard.

She turned around and took a look at him, briefly grinning at his worried expression. He slowed down as she stopped.

"Are you leaving already?" he asked her.

"I was," she said.

"I was worried, you seemed…" he said, but his words quickly trailed off to nothing. He hadn't known what to say.

"What a way to begin the year," Arizona declared. "Isn't it funny? He was here only a few months ago for the holidays."

"Arizona…"

"You want a drink?" she suddenly asked. She did not wait for a reply before adding, "I could go for a drink."

"You probably shouldn't, Arizona," he said. "Let me drive you home."

"I'm going to my parents' house."

"Then I'll drive you there," he said. "You came with your dad's car, right?"

"I did," she affirmed. "Oh, and donuts," she suddenly said.

"What?"

"Let's get donuts. I wanna get some donuts," she continued. "Lots of them, actually."

"Arizona-"

"Vodka and donuts, that sounds good!" she exclaimed.

"That sounds disgusting."

She laughed at his declaration and ran her fingers through her soaked hair. She should have brought an umbrella. Her clothes were soaked just as well. She looked at Richard – his poofy hair seemed unfazed by the rain, though his clothes were drenched.

"We should get changed, though," she said.

"You… really wanna drink?" he asked. "Now?"

"Now," she laughed. "But drive me home first, I need to change."

"Alright. Me too."

"You should stick to seltzer, though," Arizona told him.

"I'll be fine."

"Richard, you drink too much."

"If you're gonna drink, then I'm going to, too."

###

He had promptly driven her back to her apartment and dropped her off, telling her that he'd pick her up later, after he had gotten changed himself. She peeled off the wet clothes from her body and threw them into her laundry basket, then taking a quick shower.

Now she sat on her bed, dressed in a casual outfit, waiting for Richard and fumbling her thumbs together. Her apartment bore no resemblance to her own room back at her parents' house and she was a little grateful for that. In contrast to her homely pink walls, her bedroom apartment was simply a decaying crème color that she always intended to have repainted.

She stared blankly at the wall for a while, keeping her thoughts on the ugly color. She contemplated on when she'd paint them, wanting a color… something bright and vivid. Richard had once suggested painting them blue, much like her bright eyes, as her presence against the bright walls would make a striking polaroid photo. Tim was there that time, agreeing with Richard and insisting that he and Arizona would look picture perfect in a photo like that. They had planned on it.

Another plan they'd made. Another thing they intended to do when he got back.

Like coming out.

She was supposed to, she thought, looking over to the box of letters that sat on the nightstand next to her bed. She was supposed to come out as he got back. That was another plan.

It should have been, she thought. She reached out now, wanting to open the box, wanting to read his words, but she was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Richard had arrived.

###

They'd been sitting at the table of the desolate bar, solemnly drinking at noon. The bartender briefly raised an eyebrow, he was familiar to their presence, however, he had recently heard of Tim's death, as well – accordingly providing them with sympathy drinks, much to Arizona's dismay.

So they'd just been sipping at their drinks quietly at the table in the corner of the room, now and then having small talk. Richard briefly brought up the nurse that Arizona had been eyeing for a while, noticing their flirtatious behavior months before. She only murmured a comment or two, not particularly interested in her at all. She'd never really been in love. And with Tim's death, nothing seemed to matter.

So they sat, in silence.

"What's in there, you think," she suddenly inquired, before taking a sip of her drink.

"Huh?" Richard asked.

"The coffin," she said. "What's in there, a flag?"

"I don't-"

"A flag, probably," she continued. "He was blown to bits."

"Arizona."

"They gave us a fucking flag, didn't they?" she said, her voice only raised slightly. "So why not put a flag in the fucking coffin too?"

"Arizona, please calm down."

"My dad is such a fucking jackass," she said.

"Stop it," he said. "Please."

She calmed down a little now, and fell silent again as she watched Richard uncomfortably fold his hands together on the table. He was trying to be supportive, but he wasn't sure how to comfort her, she realized.

"Didn't you want me to talk about it?" Arizona asked. "So I'm talking about it."

"I thought you were gonna-" he started.

"Cry?" she cut him off. "I will… I have, but the funeral was just stupid," she said.

"The funeral was stupid," she repeated, her voice low now. It was finality. That's why it was stupid, she thought.

"Didn't even have a body… just pride, because my dad is so proud," she muttered. "So god damn proud that Tim got blown to bits just when they all were coming home."

"Your father was proud because Tim was a good man," Richard said. "And he wanted to honor him, even…" he faltered. "Even without a body. Everyone deserves that, Arizona."

She considered his words for a moment and laughed before taking another sip of her drink. "He was a good man," she said. Richard smiled slightly at her comment and she grinned back at him, suddenly appreciating his presence. He was a wonderful friend. "Are you gonna honor me when I die?"

"Of course," Richard grinned. "I thought you stood proudly at the funeral. You were strong, even with that rain messing everything up."

"The storm did wonders for the atmosphere," Arizona joked. "And anyway, if Tim's a good man, then so am I," she continued.

"A good man?"

"A good man," she said. "In the rain."

"That sounds awkward," Richard said.

"In a storm, then," she corrected.

"A good man in a storm?"

"A good man in a storm," she affirmed. "And I hate funerals."

"I know you do," he said. "It would be strange to hear someone say they liked them."

"True that," Arizona laughed.

###

After the drinks had worn off, they had promptly gone to the café around the corner and stuffed themselves with as much donuts as they could. The mixture of alcohol and donuts had left Richard feeling nauseated and he insisted that he should go home. So Arizona packed the rest to go and let Richard drop her home.

She hadn't intended to go home so early – she went home to her apartment instead of her parents' house, not wanting to face them, not wanting at all to see the faces of the people at the funeral – people who probably lingered after the service. She didn't want to see those sad faces staring at her with pity. As though she'd suddenly lost everything.

She sat on her bed now, and nibbled at the donut in her hand, again staring at the ugly crème colored wall in front of her. Her gaze again drifted back to the box of letters, and she decided to open them up this time. To hear his words resound in her head.

She picked only a few, carefully reading them – careful not to stain the paper with her smeared fingertips.

Dear Zona,

I let what you said sink in a little more and I know you've been upset with me leaving and not having said a word to you but I thought about it and I really let it sink in, Z. And it's great and I hope you tell our folks because god damn you deserve to be happy. You're gonna make a rad surgeon you know, studying all that crap though I never had the mind for it. And I know I gave you shit for being such a bookworm, but it makes sense. You're amazing, sis.

Anyway I let what you said sink in and I think it's great.

I guess that means you're gonna marry a chick, yeah? I mean I think that's against the law but fuck the law, the law is what got me drafted so fuck the law. I'm gonna dance so hard at your wedding.

Please write back.

Love, Tim

PS: Don't tell them til I get back for real cus I wanna be there when you say it and I wanna see dad's face and I'll be there by your side if you need me.

And I know you need me, Z.

I need you to write back because I can't stand it here.

Extra love, Tim

She picked up another letter.

Dear Zona,

It's been a while, I know. I'm still alive and safe but the last few weeks have been hell and I don't want to write about it so I'm not going to. Nick is the only thing that's keeping me alive in this war. Nick, you remember Nick, yeah? My highschool bud though I guess we didn't hang that much. Not with all that commotion. Cus I did hate him. And ya know why? Well this is gonna shock you some bits but remember Cathy? Yeah you do, hah. Zona, I loved her but Nick got the girl. I know you adored Cathy yourself, you guys always hung out together, that's probably how I fell for her cus I knew her through you. I mean that's probably obvious but Im feeling hella nostalgic out here and this is the only way I know how to survive. Nostalgia's all I got right now. And the thought of you and the folks. And Nick. But I didn't know she knew Nick and anyway when she met him she said she couldn't be with me anymore and I knew you were upset, Zona, I was too. So you cut her off cus you loved your bro so much more, but looking at this war, Ive let go of those feelings. Nick is a great guy, I can see why she fell for him. He keeps the troops alive and he keeps me alive even though he does it while hyped up on all that shit he buys from the villagers. I tried it before and it hit me pretty bad, I don't think I would ever wanna go fight with that crap in my system. But Nick, he's a god send despite all that and I guess that's the only way he knows how to survive. Just like how writing to you helps me survive. And anyway him and Cathy's got such a cute kid, you should see the photographs.

He's the only thing that keeps me alive here and now.

And of course you, Z.

Always you.

Love, Tim

Nick, she thought. Nick, she had not met him.

She stared at the letter for a while, trying to forgive the young man in her head. Nick. Nick, the cause of her brother's death. Nick.

She picked another letter. This one had a few photos of a small child next to his gleeful young parents attached to it with a paperclip.

Dear Z,

Did you see the photos? Isn't his kid the cutest?

He's told me so much about his son and I can't help but feel attached to him. Nick said I could be his uncle, or even his godfather! Isn't that crazy? It's a lil weird considering I dated his wife and all, but I wouldn't mind. I want kids.

Are you gonna have kids? You should, Z. You could adopt a kid or something or even more with these medical advances, y'know. I'd make a great uncle. But I'm not askin you to have a kid just so I could become an uncle, though that might be the best gift ever I think.

I said it before and I'll say it again: Nick is the only thing keeping me alive out here. I can't stand Vietnam. I can't stand this place and I wanna go home. Nick does drugs a lot, I don't really know where he gets em and even when we go home for the holidays all he just is douse himself in that shit. It hurts a lil bit because I feel for his family.

Cathy and him have been havin a lot of arguments, that's what Nick tells me. So I tell him it's probably cus of the drugs but then he gets real upset, so I try not to stick my nose where it doesn't belong.

But he's got a family, you know?

Im gonna cover for him if he needs it. Im gonna do that cus he's saved my life countless times, you wouldn't believe it.

How have you been, Zona? You're gonna make a great doc. I heard about your accomplishments from the folks. You're doin damn good.

I gotta go.

Much love,

Tim.

She let out a trembling sigh and took another look at the photographs Tim attached. They were a picturesque family, she thought. She tossed the rest of the letters on the floor, suddenly enraged. And her eyes fell to the last one. The last one that Tim sent to her.

Dear Arizona,

It's been a long time. I'm sorry. It's been crazy. I've been takin over Nick's positions in infantry, yeah, I got a promotion but it really aint no promotion. It's insane. You probably heard that we're comin home. They been sending troops home in a constant flow and we're apparently one of the last batches to be sent back.

Nick's arm got blown off. That's why I'm in his spot. It was a land mine.

They're giving it up… they're giving it up and letting us come home and Nick's arm got blown off. Now I'm taking over his position, we're trying one more thing. I'm gonna be a replacement for him and we're gonna try one more strategy. There's still hope.

I know he was pumped on something when he was out there, when he got his arm blown off. I know he wasn't himself because just before he was giggling like a moron and it set me off a little bit. Then his arm got blown off.

I don't mind doin this though. Nick's gonna recover, they're sending him home in a few days.

And I'll be home in a few months.

I can't wait.

I can't wait to start my life again.

Love,
Tim

The paper was suddenly stained by a drip of her own tears. Her eyes were suddenly blurry with tears, she couldn't read anymore. She clutched the paper to her chest and cried, she couldn't hold it back anymore. She heard his words in her head, but they didn't seem to make sense, they didn't seem to connect.

He said he would come home.

But he never came home.

###

It hadn't been long. Maybe a week or two, but she was back at work. And she was used to the stares.

At first, she knew it was because of her brother's death that they all stared. They all had met Tim. They all liked Tim. And when she came back, she had been determined to be herself, to be her normal, cheerful, invigorating self. The person that jumped on all the opportunities available.

Like that nurse. But she didn't expect people to know. Though they'd left the on-call room, she didn't expect people to find out. She didn't expect to get the knowing reaction of everyone. People stared. The nurse couldn't handle the stares of being outted, she couldn't. So she left. Suddenly.

It was stupid, Arizona thought. She sat at her locker, reading over a chart – sick of everything, sick of the stares and knowing glances that her brother was dead and that she was a lesbian.

"Robbins," she heard behind her.

She hadn't looked up from the chart, and she was aware of the stern woman's presence behind her, but she just didn't feel like looking up from her chart.

"Robbins," she heard again. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

That strict command infuriated her suddenly, and she now looked at the woman standing behind her.

"What?" she asked, coldly.

Ellis Grey stood there – her expression changed for a moment, she was surprised at the tone of her voice – the iciness, because it seemed so out of character, but her demeanor quickly reverted back into that stern look she always held.

"I heard about Timothy. My condolences."

"Thanks," Arizona muttered, turning her attention back to her chart. She was aware that it was not Ellis' intention to express her apologies, so she waited for the woman to continue speaking – probably about a surgery or a journal. But much to her surprise, however, Ellis walked over and promptly sat down next to her.

"Um," Ellis started. But she was surprised to hear Arizona suddenly giggle. "What?" she asked.

"'Um?' That's unlike you, Elly."

"It's Ellis," she corrected. "Grey, to you."

"I'll call you what I want, thanks," Arizona retorted.

"You will not," Ellis said.

"But I will!"

"Shut up and listen to me," Ellis said. "Did you read the journal I left in your locker?"

"No."

"Oh," she said. "Read it, then."

Arizona had expected her to depart after that, but Ellis still sat next to her, clearly uncomfortable in her presence. She wanted to say something else, clearly. She probably heard.

"What?" Arizona asked.

"Um, I heard some things," Ellis started. "About you."

"Get on with it," Arizona coaxed. "You heard about that nurse? That I slept with her?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Arizona said. "Go ahead and say what you want, I've heard it all around, one more comment from you won't hurt-"

"I think it's fine," Ellis said, interrupting her.

"Huh?"

"You are Arizona Robbins," she said, simply. "Nonsense from other people has never gotten to you. Sleeping with a woman doesn't change who you are. I expect you to act the same, and you will, won't you?"

"Of course I will."

"I expect you to."

"Stop expecting things of me," Arizona said. "It's weird."

"I think it's fine that you like women."

Arizona only laughed at her comment, but somehow, she felt relieved. She hadn't expected people to discover her sexuality immediately after her brother's death. She kept it hidden for so long, and aside from Richard, no one else knew. It was one slip she made, something to help her forget about her pain, just for a moment.

And now it was out.

"Thank you, Ellis."

Ellis cleared her throat. "Yes, well," she said. "Read that journal, there are things I wish to discuss with you."

"I will."

###

She'd been gaining momentum. The weeks went by and she suddenly felt stronger. The stares seemed to have faltered, especially when she stood next to Ellis. She'd notice people watching and then she'd see Ellis glare at them – a quick, icy death glare – and then they'd quickly avert their eyes, as if a prolonged glance would rouse Ellis' anger. It probably would.

And so she had felt better. She'd been doing just fine. She'd been doing perfectly fine until she noticed Ellis' chart – until she noticed Nick's name on it.

The same Nick. Scheduled to be discharged today.

As Ellis left, she hurried to his room with a kind of determination. A kind of anger. The chart had said he was there after being found on the streets – under the influence of some drug. She stormed into the room and saw him gathering his things together.

This was the man. He had jet black hair and a beard that was coming in ruggedly.

"You have a family to support," she said to his back.

He turned around, startled. Even moreso when he met her gaze – it seemed he knew who she was.

"You're…" he started. "Tim's sister."

"Yes," she said.

"Ari…zona, right?" he asked.

"You have a family to support."

"What?" he asked her.

"You heard me," she said. "Cut the crap."

He seemed alarmed – his expression was one of sadness and guilt – and yet, he also seemed incredibly terrified of her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Tim died because my arm got blown off."

His words did nothing for her.

"Quit the drugs," she said, coldly.

"You don't get it," he said. "It's not that easy."

"It is easy," she retorted. "My brother would be alive if you didn't-"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not enough," she said. "Sorry won't bring him back."

"I-"

"You have a family to support."

He dismissed her as Ellis walked into the room.

"Robbins?" she asked.

"Remember that," Arizona said, her eyes still on Nick. "Remember that."

She quickly left the room in a hurry. That must have done it.

But she saw him the next week. And the next. Ellis complained, but he was always discharged. And soon, he'd stop coming.

But Arizona knew he wouldn't quit. And though she was angry, she always looked back to Tim's words. Nick was a good friend. Nick supported Tim.

Most of all, Tim wanted to save Nick.

She could do something. She could still do something. Nick was home, she could inquire. She could make it all better for him. She stood proudly at Tim's funeral. Because she was a good man in a storm. Loyal to her family. Loyal to Timothy. She could do something, she could save the friend that her brother adored so much. She couldn't save Tim, she couldn't. But there was some chance, some way.

She had no control over anything. But maybe she could salvage what was left of Tim's life.

###

Her eyes fluttered open as Callie shook at her shoulders. The dullness in the pink walls of her room seemed strange, because they had seemed so vivid in her dreams. Everything seemed vivid. She was almost startled to see Callie's worried face in front of her, startled to see the woman in her old room, a room she hadn't been inside of in over 30 years. It was bewildering.

"Are you alright?" Callie asked. "Did you have another trance?"

She nodded her head and gestured to the closet. Callie looked over at it and then back at Arizona.

"There's a box in there," she said. "With letters."

"Okay…" Callie said.

"I want you to take them," she said. "And let's go to the graveyard."