Arizona's POV:
I was 13 when my daddy taught me how to throw a proper punch. 17 when Tim and I 'completed' the combat training that the Colonel thought was necessary. It was silly looking back. The Colonel set up the 'training zone' in the back yard and taught us the techniques and moves he learned in the Marines. I remember his face when I finally knocked him off his feet for the first time. The proud face of a father when his child accomplishes a goal would forever be burned in my memories.
I'm panicking. This is bad. I shouldn't panic. I have to stay strong for Callie. I have the shooter against the wall, but I know it won't last long. I don't have anything that keeps him there. I glance at Callie with the corner of my eye. I need to make sure she's okay.
Clark is struggling to get away, not liking the idea of being restrained by a small blonde. He elbows the surgeon in the stomach looking for an escape. Twisting around taking advantage of the slight confusion of the blonde.
Knowing that she can't contain him for long. Arizona isn't very surprised as she takes the hit to the stomach. You're not going without a fight, she thinks. Just as she throws a right hook towards the face of the shooter. A gunshot rings through the room.
Callie's POV:
I drop to the ground immediately as I hear the gunshot. Both Arizona and Mr. Clark fall with Arizona on top. I look up and see Arizona in an intense fist fight with Clark. I quickly grab my cell and call 911
"911, what's you're emergency?" the operator says
"This is Dr. Callie Torres from Seattle Grace. You need to send the S.W.A.T. team to the 4th floor east wing. The shooter and my girlfriend are in a middle of a fistfight and he's already shot!" I quickly ramble out.
"Ma'am, I just informed the squad right know. I just need to stay calm and tell me what you see"
Arizona's POV:
We both fall to the ground with me on top. He decks me in the face and I can feel my nose breaking and the blood starting to pour down my face. I shake my head and send one right back twice as hard as I got it. I know for a fact that if I end up walking out alive, my hand would certainly have multiple fractures as I keep pounding my multimillion dollar hands into the baster's face. I pause for a second to see if he's going to fight back, but then I realize how many people he's shot and probably killed so I keep hitting him. I punch him for coming to the hospital today. I punch him for even threatening the lives of innocent people.. The lives of the kids in my ward. The lives of my colleagues. Most importantly, I hit him for threatening Callie's life. For threatening my whole world.
All of the sudden, strong arms are around me picking me off the unconscious body under me. I don't even look to see who dared to pull me off of the bastard. I'm sure if I looked, I would have seen the dozen S.W.A.T. members in the small room and in the hallway surround us. I would have seen the terrified look in Callie's eyes as she witnesses the love of life kicking and screaming as an agent picks me up away from the scene.
"NO!" I scream. "NO, DON'T!" I beg.
"He tried to kill us all," I whisper as I finally give up and break down in tears.
"Hey. Hey, it's okay," Callie, coos as she wraps her protective arms around me. I wrap my injured hands around her and hold on for dear life. As I start to calm down and the adrenaline starts to fade, I could feel myself start to black out. The last thing I remember is a faint mumble of ''I love you'' to Callie before I fall into darkness.