Double update. This is the final chapter. Please read the one before this before you go on.
She smiles – a small one, slight, maybe even fabricated. She isn't sure herself, she isn't sure what that smile means or why she's showing it, but she does it anyway – because of the song. She is singing a tune that's been stuck in her head for the longest time. She thinks she can go faster with this melody in the background, with the tapping of her feet and the bobbing of her head.
It is an old tune – considered far outdated for the time now – but it is something she can never get tired of listening to. Not ever, she thinks. And she believes it.
It's been long, she's not sure how long, really – but she knows she can't stop listening to it. Surgeons are allowed some say in the choice of music they play – in the type of OR they run. And this is the kind of OR she runs, she thinks.
Her OR.
"This again, Torres?" he asks, incredulously. He's heard it so many times, he's sure that the effects of this tune on her has surely faded through time. But she's jamming all the same and he can't help but grin at her behavior – strange as it is – he finds it enamoring.
She only nods at him and so he accepts this habitual custom. He's become used to it, anyway. Everyone seems to have grown accustomed to it.
"You sure like the Zombies," someone says.
She stops, just for a moment, she stops. She thinks of her again and she shakes her head, as if to shrug the statement off.
"No," she says. "Just this song."
Standing just beside her, an intern listens to her reply and then shuffles his feet. He stretches his neck either which way before he timidly makes an inquiry. "What's this called again?"
She laughs and thinks, Of course he doesn't know of it, of course he doesn't. He hesitates after she laughs, as if not used to the presence of the fierce, intimidating doctors surrounding him. He feels as though he's asked a stupid question. He's not going to last, she thinks for a moment.
He might not last, anyway. She doesn't know where he'll end up, or where he'll go from here when he exits the OR – feeling failure or accomplishment or whatever other feelings may haunt him. So she answers him. And while she does, her face comes to mind – the bright blue eyes, and the blonde hair, and the beautiful smile.
She answers him.
"She's Not There."
###
Arizona's trances had become more frequent. Callie had thought they would have vanished after Nick had gone to trial, after her death had been resolved. She should have been at peace, or so Callie had thought. But then she woke up to discover a naked Arizona peering at the ceiling, almost lifeless.
She had fallen into a trance the night before, after they had made love. Arizona grinned and fell next to Callie, seemingly fatigued – which was strange for the energetic ghost. She had seemed so tired to Callie, so Callie brought her closer to her, to embrace her in slumber. But Arizona had not responded. She was silent. Realizing that Arizona had fallen into a trance, she shook her once, and then twice – she shook her shoulder, but she did not respond so Callie lifted her body and grasped her cheeks and called out her name and shook her again until she finally responded.
And at once, she blinked – her eyes retaining their natural glow – she blinked and then smiled at Callie, wrapping her arms around her neck and thanking her in a soft whisper. And then she kissed her very softly and pulled her down on the bed and rested her head on her shoulder. And Callie had held her tight and listened to her soft breathing until she fell asleep.
But then Callie woke up to discover that Arizona had once again fallen into a trance. And this time, it bewildered Callie moreso than any other time.
Her discordant gaze did not suit her features, rather, they made her seem even more lifeless, exceedingly so. Her skin was strikingly white – not milky, as it often had appeared to be in every instance, but remarkably pale. She stared up at the ceiling almost resembling a corpse, not breathing, not blinking. Callie grew alarmed at this trance and quickly sat up on the bed, hovering over the woman.
But Arizona had not blinked, she had not moved. She was not there. Her eyes had told Callie so, for her eyes were the most striking. The most distant they had ever been, it seemed. They were a dim, hazy blue – dark, so dark that Callie almost mistook her eyes for a grey blotchy color – but she still saw that tint of blue. And to her, it was a small spectacle of hope.
"Arizona?" Callie called out. But Arizona did not respond.
"Arizona!?" Callie called again, grabbing at her shoulders this time, as if to rouse her out of her trance. It had worked the several times before, so she shook her, she shook her meticulously, but also with alarm. She was frantic.
"Arizona, Arizona!?" she cried.
But she could do nothing. Arizona just laid there. Defeated, Callie laid on the bed next to her and softly called her name, attempting to gently soothe her out of her trance.
"Arizona, please come back," she said, her voice soft.
"Please come back, won't you?" Callie pleaded. "Come back to me, please."
She ran her fingertips along the unresponsive blonde's shoulder, grazing her pale skin which seemed so cold to Callie. Arizona's skin was cold, just as her fingertips were. Just as her body was when she must have died, Callie thought.
But she couldn't die. She was already dead. Why wasn't she coming back?
"Arizona, do you remember when we first met?" Callie asked her.
"It felt so normal. So normal. You were the first thing I saw when I woke up. And it felt so normal though we'd never met before," Callie explained, gently laughing to herself. "And I thought about it as I saw you more and more, as I woke up next to you, and I had the thought," she continued.
"I had the thought that maybe I wanted this for the rest of my life."
"And it was refreshing, Arizona. Having that thought was refreshing because it was you."
Callie moved in closer to her, she brought her body close despite the unresponsiveness of Arizona. She almost seemed like a corpse. Callie thought it a strange scene, a strange thing for someone else to witness. She had no idea what would happen, she had no idea, but she had hope that Arizona could hear her.
"And I think I'm falling in love with you."
She planted a soft kiss on her cheek.
"No, I probably am already in love with you."
"Come back…" Callie murmured, resting her head on Arizona's shoulder.
But she did not come back. Callie was unsure – she had fallen in love this time. Deeply, truly – she had never felt like she had right now. But she was not frantic. Arizona wasn't coming back to her.
She had submitted to something, and she wasn't quite sure of what that was. Perhaps it was this strange romance – this strange woman who was dead and yet had not a reason to reside on the Earth anymore. Callie submitted completely to her existence, she realized.
Bohemian lifestyle, she thought. Or bohemian lover, at least. She fell asleep next to the lifeless Arizona, clutching her tightly before her eyes fluttered shut. She wasn't sure of what she dreamt – or what she had felt whilst dreaming. All she knew is that her thoughts were of Arizona. Her heart was of Arizona. It was love, but painful love.
When she opened her eyes, she found Arizona turned on her side – watching her with an almost blank expression. Callie smiled softly at her and brought her hand to her cheek, grazing it softly.
"…You're back."
Arizona blinked twice before returning the smile.
"I'm back," she whispered softly.
"Do you remember what you dreamt about?" Callie asked her.
"Not at all," Arizona said dully. Her voice was monotonous – uninterested, almost tired.
"No?"
"No…" Arizona murmured. "Not this time… I don't know why…" she continued, her voice gradually getting lower with each word.
She closed her eyes this time, as if to fall asleep.
"Arizona?" Callie asked.
But Arizona suddenly opened her eyes and sat up. "I need to go."
"Go?" Callie asked, sitting up on the bed.
"I need to go," the ghost said again, pulling Callie up by the arm, "let's go."
"Go where, Arizona?"
"Back. Back to the car crash," she murmured, unsettlingly. She seemed frantic. There was still something to resolve, Callie thought. She quickly sat up and started to slip on her clothes.
"I need to go," Arizona announced again.
"I heard you, wait a second."
Arizona sat as Callie dug through the closet for her clothes, briefly noting the heelys she had bought for her so long ago. Her heart was aching suddenly. She picked them up and showed them to Arizona – whose eyes only seemed to grow more dull. Yet when her eyes fell on the heelys, they lit up once more.
"Thank you, Callie."
"What?" Callie laughed.
"I love you," she said, softly – her blue eyes gleaming as she stared at the startled brunette.
"You do?"
"I do," she said. "I love you."
Callie smiled, her features softening as she placed the heelys back into the closet. She leaned into Arizona and kissed her.
"I love you too."
###
Callie followed Arizona as she trailed slowly on the sidewalk, slowing her steps. It was late at night now – her trance had lasted long and now they were here – at the same place the two had crashed so long ago. Strangeness had brought them here, and strangeness would indeed part them.
Callie only gazed at Arizona's back – her shoulders slouched slightly forward. She seemed to be in a daze – fatigued, tired – not quite like herself. She was trying, Callie thought.
"Arizona?" she called. The blonde turned to her now, as if suddenly realizing that she was there with her and smiled softly. It was a smile that always made Callie's heart flutter. It was a sad smile, but it was beautiful. It was her smile.
"You're leaving me, aren't you."
"I think so…" Arizona said. "I…" she started, turning to Callie and walked towards her. She stood in front of Callie now, "I don't feel like I'm here anymore… unless I look at you." She put her hands on Callie's arms. "If I don't look at you, I feel like I'm disappearing."
"Then keep looking at me!" Callie yelled. "Always look at me!"
"But I can't, Callie," she said. "You know that's not possible."
"It can be," Callie said, "we can make anything possible."
"You have a life, Callie. You need to live it. Mine is already gone."
"I want a life with you."
"Maybe in another life," Arizona said. Callie reached out to her, but Arizona stilled her hands – instead, moving to clasp Callie's cheeks in her hands. "Maybe in another time."
"Arizona…"
"I could learn to love you."
"Arizona, please."
"I'm sure. I'm sure of it," she said, confidently. "I'm sure I would learn to love you, like I did. Like I do now."
"Please…" Callie pleaded, taking hold of the hands that held her face. She brought those same hands to her lips and kissed them frantically – they were cold.
"You saved me, Callie," Arizona said. "Thank you."
"I love you."
"I love you, too," she said. And Callie closed her eyes, letting go of the blonde's hands. All she felt were soft lips against her own – the softest and warmest as they had ever been.
But Callie knew. She took a deep breath and smiled, unsure of what it really meant. What it all meant. Though she was sure of one thing. Arizona had given her life.
And Callie knew.
She let herself exhale, she finally allowed herself to breathe. The first time in a long time, she thought. It must have been.
Callie opened her eyes and she knew.
She wasn't there anymore.
