Callie has tried, on occasion, to take a page from Arizona's book and not dwell on things. Her wife, with the exception of a few hiccups, is in constant motion. She treats life like she's in the OR. Always moving. Little victories count the same as big victories in Arizona's work and she deals with the rest of her life the same way. The tiniest step forward is monumental.
Callie has tried that way and she's failed.
Spending the night in Derek's trailer with Owen isn't the big step forward she wanted it to be. When she wakes up in the early morning, the sky gray because the sun's too lazy to rise, and she hears Owen in the tinny shower she hyperventilates.
All the sex they've had across all the surfaces of Grey Sloan Memorial and it's his shadow in the shower that cuts to the quick.
She has fond memories of the trailer. Of sitting on the bed and pulling Arizona into her arms and sinking into bliss for hours. Being sweaty and sated and watching cheap tea candles burn down in the other room.
They'd joked about the smell. Pine needles and aftershave. They'd watched the sun rise out on the deck, cold dew damp on the blanket wrapped around them.
They'd been happy.
And now her body is stiff from vigorous sex with someone else.
Panic whines at the back of her head.
Arizona would…she'd slip into the shower and fuck the person there until they couldn't walk and she couldn't think about her panic and hurt.
But Callie tried that and now she's snapping like a brittle twig.
She laughs.
A twig. No one would call her a twig.
Owen sticks his head out, water running down his pale skin that never tans like her wife's does. He smiles. "Want to join me?"
Arizona would.
Joining him would be easy. Callie's still slick from a long night of sex. Though she has no doubt that if she stuck her hand between her legs there'd be a chill.
Owen could warm her up.
The trailer smells like beer and another brand of aftershave.
"Early surgery," she begs.
He nods and disappears back into the steam.
He hums and she scrambles for her clothes.
Owen's happy.
Like Arizona.
Trauma and peds. They're a lot alike. They have to take the little victories. But Callie's ortho. Little victories don't mean shit if the bones are still broken.
####
Sofia doesn't have any idea how upset her mommy is. Or she's so used to her parents arguing that she knows to keep quiet as Arizona drives them to the hospital and fights the anger bubbling up inside of her.
That's awful.
She's not supposed to be the kind of woman who raises a kid in a fractured, messy home.
Her leg itches and she stomps it loudly on the elevator, accepting the brief jarring pain that runs up the limb from shortened thigh to hip and then trying to not notice the intern standing beside her and watching her like she's crazy.
She drops Sofia off at daycare and takes a flight of stairs when she sees Callie getting on the elevator.
She tries to focus on her work and not think about the cool, unused sheets on Callie's bed.
When Dr. Herman has her following up with all her post ops like a second year resident she devotes herself to the task and thumps her thigh every time the image of Callie fucking someone else pops into her head.
It's not the idea of sex that lingers. It's pizza and talking to 2 a.m. Did he hold her afterwards? Tell her she was amazing? Lazily draw constellations across the perfect imperfections of her skin? Did they have slow and easy sex in the shower before coming to work? Take one car and laugh at each other's jokes as they walked in?
When she sees the back of Callie leave an on call room all the questions come to a head. She drops her stack of charts into Wilson's startled arms and tells her to handle it, then stalks into the room like a chief resident putting her interns in line.
Owen is tugging on a scrub top and looking confused and the room smells like sweaty sex.
Her leg is throbbing and all the habits she has to deal with it she learned from Owen. Who she just wants to beat with her leg.
He's alarmed by her rushing into the room and stands. Looms. "Robbins what—"
"You can't just use her."
He goes from confused to hard in a heartbeat.
"You're getting over Cristina and Callie—she doesn't deserve to be a stepping stone on your wellness trek."
A muscle in his jaw twitches. She can see him reigning something in. "You seemed just fine using her like a stepping stone." She can't even guess which time he means.
"I loved her." It sounds wrong and if she were the kind of person who got introspective she'd stop to wonder why.
He shakes his head. Tucks his top in. "Do yourself a favor, Arizona." He leans in and she can smell more of Callie than him. "Move on."
####
She finds Amelia Shepherd eating a cup of frozen yogurt in the cafeteria. "You broke up with your fiance right?"
The spoonful of yogurt is melting in Amelia's mouth and she's trying to figure out what the hell Arizona means. "Yeah," she finally says. The words are thick with frozen food.
"My wife and I are separated."
"I heard."
"Apparently I need to move on."
Amelia raises an eyebrow. A series of ill-conceived hook ups in med school are replaying behind her eyes. Arizona has purposely steered clear of her every time she's come into town to avoid seeing that replay. "Is this a booty call Robbins?"
"Not if you keep calling it that."
It used to be easier. In med school they were both so easy going and so driven to be the best and so god damned flirty it would just happen. Then Tim was dead and Amelia was popping pills like M&Ms and they had other things to occupy their time.
"There isn't some nurse you had your eye on?"
"I'd rather fuck the devil I know thanks."
"Usually safer that way. But this devil is sober and doesn't sleep with people who can't be bothered to say hello for the last month I've been here."
"I've been busy. Do you want to see what I've learned since med school or not?" She doesn't even try to flirt. Callie was complaining about that. Talking about sparks that had fizzled.
"This is the worst come on I've had in at least six months," her wide eyes flicker to the clock ticking behind Arizona, "but I got an hour to kill." She drops her spoon into the empty cup.
Arizona goes down on Amelia in an on call room that's more bed than room. It smells kind of moldy. Amelia took off her pants but doesn't ask Arizona to do the same. When her hand slides into Arizona's underwear it takes just a few long thrusts to make her come.
"I'm feeling underwhelmed," she jokes.
So Arizona flips her over, crawls on top of her and seeks to overwhelm.