Title: It's All Your Fault
Author: Trance-Faith
Rating: M – adult themes.
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's. All characters in this story sadly do not belong to me; they're simply being borrowed for a little while, and then will be returned. This story was not written for profit and no copyright infringements are intended. Also the song words used in this fanfic are Paramore's "emergency".
Author's Note 1: In terms of Grey's storyline – this is set after their break up, in 7x07. I stated in chapter 2 that I had seen the promo for 7x09, and wasn't acknowledging what happened in it – after having time to digest the events, I've decided I will have them in this story.
Author's Note 2: I did tell people I didn't want to write this fanfic – but they said (they know who they are) to write it anyway. So I'm sorry!
Incase you haven't read the other chapters –
.com/callie_
.com/callie_
Beta: No beta was used while I wrote this, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are my own.
Reviews: Are much wanted please!
"Cause oh I'm bleeding out, inside oh I don't even mind…"
"If you thought I'd leave, then you were wrong, cause I won't stop holding on"
Arizona's POV
Dead weight. It's the phrase used to describe the sensation someone feels when they lift someone or something up, and don't feel it resist. Feel no struggle, no assistance, feel no life. That was the only thing Arizona could feel, as she linked her arms underneath Callie's armpits, and dragged her from the tub. The blonde tensed just before the moment she saw coming, the brunette's heels banging on the floor, and her head lolled backwards, her wet and matted hair hanging limply. The smaller woman whispered her apologies to the unresponsive woman.
Gently placing Callie's head on the bath mat, Arizona took a deep breath reminding herself to be subjective, be the doctor she was trained to be, the doctor Callie needed her to be. The girlfriend in her tenderly moved the hair that had stuck itself to the tanned face, while the doctor in her moved so her ear was hovering over Callie's mouth. The Latina's breath was laboured, and faint, but it was still there, dancing its way across the blonde doctor's cheek. Sighing slightly in relief, she moved her hand across Callie's cheek, to the pulse point on her neck, again feeling a rush of relief flood through her, as she felt the small pulse, beat beneath her fingertips.
Half standing, she reached over to grab the towel hanging on a rail on the other side of the bathroom. She spun it around her hand, into a tight sausage shape, and gently lifted Callie's arm. What she saw surprised her. There was no blemish, no bloody cut, it was perfect. Her heart skipped a beat, and took it's resting place in her throat, as she let the arm down, knowing what she'd see when she lifted the brunette's other arm. There is was. A vertical crimson, jagged cut stretched from the perfect wrist, and was about four or five inches long, and was visibly deep. A sob racked through the small woman's body, as she wrapped the white towel around the injured wrist, fastening it into a knot she knew would apply the pressure that was needed to steady the flow of blood, which had already started to seep through the cotton fibres.
Arizona staggered into the other room, grabbing the cell which was on the side table. Punching in 911, she reentered the bathroom, kneeling beside the unconscious form, once again checking her pulse. The woman's voice which answered the call was polite and calming. She didn't want to be calm she wanted to panic; she wanted someone to be able to panic like she couldn't allow herself the luxury to feel. "I need an ambulance. I'm at The Archfield Hotel. It's my girlfriend. She's hurt, and lost a lot of blood. She's breathing, and her pulse is irregular, but still there." Her voice sounded so foreign to even her own ears, she could hear the fear that lingered on every syllable. The calm voice replied in the same annoying polite manner, "Okay ma'am, which room are you in?" The blonde's mind went momentarily blank, what room was Callie's staying? Why could she not remember! Closing her eyes, she pictured the oak door she had used to enter the room, and saw the large number. "220", came her hoarse voice. "Please hurry! I'm a doctor. I just need help", the blonde finished. "The ambulance will be with you in about ten minutes, okay?" the disembodied voice sounded again from the receiver in her hand. "Okay" came the small infantile voice from the blonde's mouth. Before the operator could speak again, Arizona dropped the cell, rushing over to the back of the door, pulling down the white bathrobe that hung there. Pushing her way through into the main room, she took the few steps towards the set of draws, ripping open the top draw. As expected she was greeted by a selection of Callie's underwear, and bras. Picking a pair and a bra at random she rushed back into the small room.
As a doctor she had been taught not to move a body, in fear of causing more injuries. She had broke this rule when she had pulled the Latina from the tub, and was about to do it again, but she'd be damned if the paramedics were going to see more than they had to, or that Callie was going to go outside where more people could see her. It was for her dignity, Arizona was going to cover the taller woman up. Kneeling beside the longer woman, she took a hold of one leg, fishing it through the leg hole of the underwear she had collected. Doing the same with the other leg, she slowly brought the garment up her thighs, over her hips, to their rightful place. She was sadly reminded of a happier time.
After a night out with the hospital gang, Callie and Arizona had returned back at the apartment both rather drunk. Callie was worse. She had announced very loudly she was going to take a shower before bed. Arizona had watched as the brunette had staggered through to the bathroom, narrowly missing obstacles, such as the couch, or the kitchen bench. After about twenty minutes, the blonde had gone investigating to find Callie sitting on the floor of the shower, completely naked, and passed out. Knocking the shower off, Arizona had half pulled, half lifted Callie out of the small shower, at which thankfully she woman in question had been aroused from her drunken state, enough to help maneuver their way to the bedroom. Arizona had dried Callie as well as she could in her own drunken fogged frame of mind. She had tugged a tank top over the woman's head, and pulled on an old pair of sweat pants, over her long legs, with a small amount of help from the woman who then attempted to grab a hold of the waist band of her sweat pants, and kept missing.
Months later, the blonde was fighting back a sob, as she felt nothing in response to the administrations she was currently carrying out. Callie simply lay completely still, seemingly unaware of her presence. The blonde shuffled along the floor, nearing herself to the dark haired head resting on the cold floor. Arizona draped the chosen bra across Callie's chest, lifting one arm in turn threading it through the strap, feeling both limbs were heavy, and unyielding to manipulation. Threading her fingers into the newly cut dark hair, she lifted Callie's head, and as result her upper body, allowing the brunette's head to rest on her shoulder, as she fastened her bra.
The blonde turned her head to place a gentle kiss on the dark haired head. She could faintly smell the scent that was unique to Callie, but the smell which struck her senses even more was the unmistakable metallic smell of blood. "Why Callie?" she whispered, not excepting an answer. Taking a deep breath, then stretched as far she could without letting go of Callie, who she had pressed to her body as tightly as she could, she grabbed the edge of the dressing gown. Leaning backwards slightly, she enabled herself to be able pull the arm closest to her through the arm hole, altered her position, and did the same with the other.
The white of the robe which was now covering most of the tanned skin, now made the colour of Callie's skin stand out even more. Something Arizona hadn't noticed was that her usual tanned skin had a red tint to it, and she could feel the heat radiating through the cotton of robe. As doctors they had been taught how to fix broken bodies, and with that knowledge they had learnt subconsciously how to break them too. The blonde freely allowed her tears fall as she clung to the body in her arms. Callie had known that the almost scolding temperature of the water in the tub would stop her blood from clotting, and in turn would enable to her to bleed to death, even from a cut as short as the one that was now etched into her slender wrist.
An annoying noise sounded from somewhere near the bathroom door. Arizona turned her head, to see Callie's cell was vibrating where she had discarded it after talking to the operator. Pulling herself free from Callie's body, and she half crawled towards the offending object, to see Mark's name on the display screen. Grabbing the small object, she lifted it to her ear, and was created by Mark's voice. "Mark?" the blonde's voice, yet again seemed so child like. "Blondie?", Mark's voice sounded, full of amusement, and delight. "Mark…you need to get to the hospital. It's Callie. She….", the older doctor couldn't fetch herself to finish the sentence. "She's hurt. I've called for an ambulance. It's on it's way, should be here any minute." She heard an odd noise from the other end, but didn't have a chance to question it, as there was a loud knock at the main door. "Mark I've got to go its here, I'll talk to you later", and with that she hung up.
Rushing towards the door, which seemed to put up a fight as she opened it, or maybe her body was losing its fight to keep it together? There stood a young man in the black uniform she knew was the hotel's uniform, and two paramedics. "She's in the bathroom", Arizona whispered, pleading with them to understand. Both paramedics walked straight passed her into the instructed room, while the young hotel employee looked terrified. Not caring if she was being rude, she walked back into the other room, to see the taller paramedic placing a gas mask over Callie's mouth. It seemed he had sensed her presence as he spoke to her over his shoulder, "As she conscious when you found her?" "Yes, she spoke to me, but only briefly before she passed out", Arizona replied, trying hard to sound professional. The paramedic nodded at no-one in particular. The other paramedic, who Arizona only just noticed was a woman, slipped passed her, and out of sight.
A very small noise reverberated around Arizona's head, and if she hadn't seen the source of noise move, she would suspect it was her own imagination. Callie had moved of her own accord, and had groaned slightly. "Callie?" Arizona had almost shouted in delight, rushing to her side. "Calliope, talk to me", she pleaded. "Ari…", came the groggy reply. "Yes baby it's me", Arizona answered through a sob. She needed Callie to open her eyes. To see those chocolate brown eyes, she could so easily drown in. Callie made another inaudible noise, causing the blonde to lower her head to the Latina's face. "What Callie?" she asked gently. "Leave me alone…" croaked the tired voice of her love. What? Did she actually think she could just walk away from this? "No!" came Arizona's half cry, "Never". She would never leave the brunette's side again, not ever. She pleaded with any god, or being listening to make sure Callie was okay, that she saw this through.
Callie didn't responded, or even acknowledge her words. Arizona realised she had slipped back into unconsciousness. Lifting her eyes to the paramedic on Callie's other side; she saw sadness, and understanding looking back at her. He knew what Callie had tried to do, what she had just asked her to do. He understood. The woman paramedic came back into the room with a portable bed, lowered it to floor. Arizona scrambled out of the way, giving them room to move Callie. It was a simply maneuver she had seen in the pit a million times, yet seemed so odd to see it from this point of view. From the point of view of the family. The Latina was pushed through the small doorway, through the hotel room, down the corridor and into the elevator. Arizona simply followed like a lost child. The hotel employee it seemed had disappeared, though the lobby was full of people who were interested in seeing the woman from room 220 who had tried to kill herself. The blonde could hear them all talking in hushed voices, trying to look as if they didn't care, while staring at them as they passed. Callie was loaded into the ambulance with ease, just like she was any other patient to them. Which she was. It was only Arizona's whole life that was hanging in the balance. The tall paramedic extended his hand to Arizona, who took it gratefully, and took a seat at the side.
The woman drove with ease, while the male paramedic kept an eye on Callie. The siren seemed to deafen Arizona, though she could barely register what it meant. She could see out of the back window, everything that passed was streaked with red and blue. All of a sudden the machines went crazy; the whole air seemed to stop moving. The woman shouted if they should stop, and got told to keep going, it wasn't far. Arizona jumped up, to help. The paramedic told her to stay put, and let him work. Did he not know she was a surgeon she could help! His hands dash round Callie's frame, giving her injections Arizona should remember their names, their purpose, but her mind is blank.
The vehicle comes to a stop. The doors open, and Callie is lowered quickly. The taller paramedic rushes to tell the doctors that have come to meet them, Callie's condition. Arizona's eyes rise to see her best friend, Teddy looking back at her. As is Bailey and Owen, their friends. They start to move the brunette towards the entrance of the hospital, taking her away from the blonde. Arizona dashes after them, only to be stopped by the small woman she has come to respect. "You know you can't come any further. We'll do what we can, I promise", Bailey states, before turning and walking through the doors which are acting as a physical barrier between her and Callie.
The blonde walked towards the door, resting a single hand, and forehead on the glass window. Closing her eyes, she silently prays to anyone who's listening, to allow Callie to live.