Title: It's All Your Fault

Author: Trance-Faith

Rating: M – suicide and suicidal tendencies.

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" and Pink's "It's all your fault". Though this chapter will only use 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, haven't decided about tiny Torres yet.

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!

Author's Note 3: I'm sick! but regardless of the reason i cried writin this chapter

Beta: No beta was used while I wrote this, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are my own.

Reviews: Are much wanted please!

"If you thought I'd leave, then you were wrong cause I won't stop holding on. This is an emergency so are you listening?"

Callie's POV

Darkness. It was surrounding her, pushing itself against her. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe. Darkness was holding her back, keeping her in place. She didn't feel hot or cold. Either pain or sadness. Pleasure or joy. She felt nothing. She was unsure if she could even feel herself, she could see nothing, though was aware of her own presence. She was simply here. Wherever here was. She could hear something far away, and every time she tried to grasp it, the noise got even fainter. It sounded so familiar. It calmed her. She wished she could run to the source of the noise and she'd be free of this place, wherever this was place was. It seemed however she had no feet, or her own feet had stopped working, as every time she made to move, she remained completely still. Was she dead? Had she died? Was this limbo? It couldn't be heaven, and it didn't feel like hell. She'd seen Arizona, so maybe it was heaven. Did that mean Arizona was dead too? No it didn't! She refused to even acknowledge that thought. How had she seen Arizona? Was it her mind playing tricks on her as she'd passed out? Arizona…There was that noise again. A voice she thought. A voice she knew. Arizona's voice? She was sure it was. The words weren't tangible, they made no sense. Callie wished she could just give her head a sharp shake, and then she could figure out how to get to the voice, to her Arizona.

Arizona's POV

The smaller woman didn't smile as she drew closer; she gave no gesture of warmth or comfort. The blonde saw Mark move out of the corner of her eye, and felt his presence come to rest beside her standing form. Bailey gave no words of comfort, or reassurance, and was simply the doctor she knew her to be. Arizona could see the smaller surgeon's mouth move, even heard the noises coming out of it. And yet…she made no sense of their meaning. She was used to being a doctor and all the terms and knowledge that came with it. Some procedures she would be so bold to state she could perform in her sleep. This on the other hand was new. She was the waiting family, not the doctor who had trained for years, or the surgeon who had performed countless surgeries. She was the woman who had stood up to Callie's father defending their love, which had not yet been proclaimed. She was the woman who had declared her love for Callie in the ridiculous hat. She was the woman who had brushed vomit from Callie's hair when the nerves of giving a speech had taken her over and had held her as she cried at the loss of her father's love. She was her family. She could see Bailey was treating this as if she was any other person's family and that she hadn't just had to save a friend's life. She felt Mark lean into her shoulder slightly as Bailey continued. None of this made sense, none of it. All she could comprehend were the small woman's last few sentences, "We're waiting for the anesthetic to wear off completely. Let her sleep tonight and she'll be taken to psych to be assessed tomorrow." She felt indescribable. Her arms and legs felt heavy, but her head light as if she was going to faint. "Can I see her?" her voice had lost all strength, all anger, all of anything, all that remained was relieve and hope. The older surgeon nodded, and gave a smile. A satisfied smile crept along her face, the first hint that this case wasn't just a person, but was a friend. A friend she was glad to have saved. The smaller woman turned on her heel, and Arizona felt herself been half dragged in her wake by the tall man who walked beside her.

She had worked in this hospital for over two years and yet the path Bailey was taking them on seemed unfamiliar and yet she could also feel her body click into autopilot as if she had travelled it hundreds of times before. Yet again she was hit with the alien sensation of this situation; she was not the doctor but the family. She'd never been the worried family member, walking this path; she'd always been the doctor.

Bailey turned to the left, walking into a room which had their blinds closed. Arizona's breath caught in her throat. There she was. The only light which penetrated the darkened room was the small lamp on the side table, which cast Callie in golden relieve, making her darkened skin glow. She looked so small. Callie Torres a strong orthopedic surgeon, who stood at five foot and nine inches, looked small. She looked fragile, and broken, and all Arizona wanted was to wrap her arms around her and never let her go. There was a machine, which was mapping out Callie's heartbeat, and an IV which travelled from her arm to the bag filled with crimson fluid, which was hanging on the stand next to the bed. It felt odd to know that, that fluid was soon to be Callie's blood. As a doctor she knew how it worked, and knew at sight how the nurses had inserted the intravenous cannula, and yet here she stood rooted to the spot, staring down at something that felt so foreign it must be a nightmare.

She felt herself being pushed by a strong hand on her back, and realised Mark was pushing her closer to the bed. The floor which existed between her feet to Callie's side seemed to span for miles, and as she lifted each of her feet to take the next step, the floor seemingly turning to quicksand, trying to stop her from getting to her destination. Pulling the stand alone chair closer to the bed, she sat down, taking Callie's uninjured hand, not caring that Mark would have to deal with hand which IV in, and the physical reminder of why they were here. Bailey made some comment Arizona didn't catch but left the room, closing the door behind her. Altering her hold on Callie's hand, she lifted it to her lips placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. She felt the tear travel its way down her face, and didn't care Mark was here to see it. She saw Mark move to lean against the opposite wall, and could see the emotions flicker across his face as he took in his broken friend. He had promised once they knew what would happen to Callie he'd shout at her, he'd blame her for this, he'd make her pay for the damage she caused. Instead he simply looked straight into her eyes, and she saw his eyes starting to fill with tears. Regardless of their past, of Mark and Callie's history, she knew he cared. The man stood across from her was not the man who she had known had slept with the woman she loved, but the man Callie considered her best friend. Right now she couldn't hate him, because she could see every emotion she felt, etched into his face.

A pager went off, and the noise echoed around the room like an annoying bee. On instinct Arizona reached with her free hand to her waist band, before remembering, she didn't actually work here anymore. It was Mark's. Surely someone would have told whoever it was who was paging him about Callie. Mark glared angrily at the offending machine he just torn away from his own waistband. "911" he stated looking conflicted from Arizona to Callie's sleeping form. "Go. I'll get them to page you if anything changes," Arizona said surprising even her at the calm and polite tone her voice had adopted. Mark still looked hesitant until Arizona said, "I promise. There's nothing anyone can do for her, until she wakes up, which could be hours." At the last few words Mark's face showed relieve, as if he was being given permission, while it made Arizona's heart sink. She still had to wait hours, before she could look into those chocolate brown eyes. Before she could feel at home.

Mark walked the small distance between his resting place, and Callie's, and bent down slightly to place a small kiss on the Latina's head, before walking out of the room without a backwards glance. Arizona realised this was because if he, like her two months ago, had looked back he would never have left. When Callie woke, Arizona made a pledge to herself, she would make Callie see how much she loved, how much she had missed her, and how much she wanted nothing more but to stay at her side, where she belonged.

Still holding on to Callie's hand as if her life depended on it, she turned it so Callie's palm was resting on the blonde's cheek, being kept in place by her own hand. The tears no longer fell, but they threatened her ability to breathe, the constant lump which had formed in her throat was refusing to move, regardless of the number times she swallowed. Callie was going to be okay, Bailey had said that. Physically she was going to be okay…what about mentally? Emotionally? How had things gone so wrong? The warmth of Callie's hand on her cheek soothed her, closing her eyes she could almost believe it was the brunette who was closing her face, just as she did when she was about to kiss her. Just as she when the blonde cried, and she was the only one allowed to wipe away the falling tears. So why wasn't she doing that now, to the hot tears which spilled from the crystal blue eyes. Opening her eyes again, she saw why. Callie lying unmoving, unaware of her presence, and seemingly alive against her own will. Arizona sobbed. Grasping Callie's hand in both of her own, she pleaded with the sleeping woman, "Please wake up! Please Calliope, I need you to wake up. I. Love. You. Please".

The room was eerily quiet and no response came from the dark haired woman. The only noises which filled the room were the heart monitor and Callie's rhythmic breathing. Arizona was tired. Her body felt heavy, her heart even heavier. Looking at Callie now she looked peaceful, almost childlike, as an innocent sleep child façade graced her features. Making Arizona desire nothing else but to curl up along side the sleeping woman, and join her in the land of dreams. But she fought it. She needed to stay awake, what if Callie woke? What if Callie needed her? There was so many what ifs that bombarded the surgeon's mind, she struggled to see why her brain was so tired.

Looking down at her wrist of the hand holding so tightly to Callie's she saw her watch, she realised she was still on African time, as it was one in the afternoon in Malawi. Meaning it was three o'clock in the morning here, in Seattle. When did that happen? No she knew that question. An eighteen hour flight, going to Mark's, finding Callie and waiting…that is when it had happened. The question which forced its way to the front as her eyes gave up the fight to stay awake was what happened to the last forty-eight days?

Callie's POV

Heaven was the place which God, who you believed that to be, and God's angels lived. It was often depict with clouds and harp playing angels. Everything is bright and clean. This place wasn't heaven. There were no big golden gates or a man with angelic wings welcoming her into paradise. There was no bright light which was comically referred to as an oncoming train. There was nothing, but that voice. The voice she was so sure was her love's voice. She still couldn't get any closer to it. She pleaded with…God? Could he hear her? If this was limbo, could he hear her? She pleaded she could be closer to Arizona. Oh! There was that light. She started to panic; maybe she didn't want to meet it. She hadn't even said goodbye to Mark, or Arizona. She promised she wouldn't call, maybe she should have, just to say goodbye. The light was fast approaching, she couldn't turn and run, she was rooted to the spot, and it was too late for regrets.

The brunette's eyes opened, though she had no memory for closing them. There was a golden glow in the room. This was glow she had been expecting, though it wasn't all that impressive. However she could feel. Her right wrist throbbed, she thought when you died you weren't meant to feel moral pains any longer. She felt heavy, her left side more so. Looking down she knew she was in heaven. Golden hair was spread across her hip and the few inches of bed she wasn't occurring, and the face of a sleeping angel was tilted towards her. The Latina's hand was clutched in the angelic one, as if it was Arizona's lifeline. What if this was reality? She could feel. In heaven you didn't feel did you? What if Arizona had found her? Had seen what she'd done? Why would she still be here? No, she couldn't be here. Arizona's breath tickled the back of Callie's, and was soothing her. No this wasn't reality, or hell, as Callie had come to realise these were both the same thing. As sleep took over her heavy body, she decided this must be heaven, because Arizona was never coming back.