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".
Author's Note 1: In terms of Grey's storyline – this is set after their break up, in 7x07.
Author's Note 2: Still house sitting. Reviews are so helpful, so please if you take the time to read, please tell what I've done right or wrong.
Author's Note 3: As you may have noticed the timeline is not the same in this story as it is in the show. At this point it has been about three years since the kiss at Joe's.
Beta: No beta was used while I wrote this, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are my own.
Reviews: Are much wanted please!
"So are you listening? So are you watching me?" – Emergency by Paramore
"It's all your fault, you called me beautiful. You turned me out and now I can't turn back." - It's all your fault by P!nk.
Arizona's POV
Shock, heart shattering adrenaline, anger and considerable fear had flown through Arizona's system as those words that had come from the Latina's mouth. She felt as if she was falling, and the only thing that kept her place was the strong hand in her own, and dark pleading stare from the eyes she could get so lost in. She couldn't have spoken even if she had wanted to, but she could move. She slipped her hand from the raven's grasp, and saw pain reflecting back at her, subconsciously causing the same pained look she had induced a year ago by carrying out the same motion, when Callie had expressed her want for a child. Was Callie pregnant? Maybe it was too early to tell. She couldn't believe that Callie was pregnant. She wouldn't have done what she did, if she was. Would she? The plummeting sensation that had followed the revelation and realisation to what it meant was nothing to the on slaughter of anger and hatred she felt as the door creaked open, and a man cleared his throat.
She had turned to see the man himself, and heard what sounded like a slight whimper from behind her; she assumed it came from the injured woman. It had taken every ounce of her willpower to not, when she had stood slowly, to pick up the chair she had been sitting on and bludgeon the man into a bloody heap. Hit him so hard so many times, that even with his surgical expertise he would never look the same way again. There had been two things which had propelled her forward and had enabled her to leave the room. The first was regardless, the loathsome man who had been stood before her was still the love of her life's best friend. The second was, she was unsure if her conscious would have allowed her to ignore her Hippocratic Oath, and leave him in a blood mess. So she had walked, straight out of the door, without looking back.
That had been three weeks ago. Twenty one day ago Arizona Robbins had walked out of Callie's room, leaving the confused Latina and probably equally confused Mark Sloan in her wake. She was pretty sure that Callie would have told Mark within minutes of the blonde leaving the room why she had just walked out. It had been a week after the night of the exposure, the day before New Years Eve that Callie had been released, and a further week before Callie had returned to work.
In the first week Arizona had thrown herself into her work, staying away from the room she felt herself being drawn to every time she stepped foot in the building. There was no real escape from the other woman, the hospital halls were filled of memories and the place Arizona slept in was filled with her belongings, and Latina's presence always lingered. It seemed Callie had been staying at the hotel since the night she left, this she only knew because of the invoice and receipt she had been informed was waiting at reception for her. It still amazed her that Callie could afford the twenty five hundred dollars a week bill, and that was without room service or tipping housekeeping. Callie had never flaunted her money; in fact she barely used it normally being dependant on her wage.
Upon returning back to the hotel, as she had no where else to go she had been offered by the staff a relocated room. She had thought it was a little much, Callie had been the one who had tried to commit suicide in one of their bathtubs after all, and they probably weren't liable for anything. At first she had declined saying she was more than happy with the room she had, and as she stripped and changed for bed she was. Despite everything she was happy she was surrounded by everything that was Calliope Torres. Her smell hung in the air, clung to her every being. She had even opened the wardrobe which was housing some of the brunette's clothes, pulling on one of her tops and a pair of jog pants. Instantly she was close to Callie, sitting on the chair that was facing the large vanity mirror she put her head in her hands and cried.
She had tried to sleep. That night she had pealed back the sheets and had climbed into the big, cold bed alone. The pillows had smelt of the raven's hair, or maybe it was Arizona's own hair, she didn't know. She had closed her eyes so tightly, willing herself to sleep, but the images that forced themselves on her imagination made it impossible to sleep. It had taken about three hours of her self torture, before she had leapt from the bed as if she'd been burnt. The realisation had hit her like a ton of bricks; it might have been in that bed. It might have been in that bed that Callie had betrayed her, betrayed their love. She knew they hadn't been together, that Callie owed nothing, but the images, the thoughts that had kept creeping into her brain, made it so damned hard to think straight. She had resisted the verge to throw up, to run head first into the bathroom and empty her stomach of all the pain, misery and hurt she felt. She couldn't sleep in that room; neither could she just go and asked to be moved at that time. Looking over at Callie's alarm clock, the red numbers had told her it was little after half one in the morning. She had taken the only seat in the room once again, and stared across at the double bed in the middle of the room. Taking breathes as deep as she could; she had tried to not succumb to the tears or the nausea. She only managed to stop herself from throwing up, it look all her resolve to do that, the tears did not listen to her internal pleas or threats as they had rolled down her face, dying on the collar of her borrowed night wear.
There she had sat on that lone, cold wooden chair, with a semi comfortable cushion perched on it, her forearms resting on the draws, until the red number flared 6 am. She had sat alone with her thoughts for almost four hours. By three she had become immune to the coldness of the room, refusing to wrap the duvet around her frame for warmth. She knew on some level she was being ridiculous, even if they had…in this room, on that bed, the bedding would have been washed, and it probably wasn't even the bedding. None the less, she didn't wrap herself up in it. She had cried and cried, the warm tears that poured down her face seemed not to care for her futile attempts to make them stop, so she had stopped fighting them.
She had pulled clothes out of her own suitcase at random; pulling off the ones she had adopted for the night and stuffed these ones and the dirty ones from the day before into her case. Once she was dressed she went around the room collecting Callie's things from every surface and storage space could think of, and folded everything as neatly as she could into the Latina's case. When she came to the letter and flower cards which were stored in Callie's underwear draw she had to refrain from letting her emotions get the better of her yet again. The small cards and letter were then placed in her case; after all they were hers, not Callie's.
Having one last check, she found Callie's cell that she discarded after she had told Mark about Callie needing to go to hospital and Callie's small army knife down by the sink in the bathroom. Once again she resisted the urge to throw up, to throw the weapon across the room, as far away as possible from her. This had been what Callie had used to try and end her life. Taking a deep breath she had put the blade in the suitcase, and cell in her own purse. She would ensure, somehow it got back to the brunette. It was just after seven when the blonde left the hotel room, and struggled down the corridor with her and Callie's various belongings being hit in various places by one or both of the cases and both bags. Once she reached the reception she told them out front that she was leaving, the staff had briefly tried to reassure her that they could relocate her to a different room. She had declined point blank and made to leave and a man who worked for the hotel, dressed in a tails and top hat helped her with the cases. Only in a place like the Archfield, would a young man in his late twenties be able to help you carry your cases and flag down a taxi in a top hat and tails at 7am, and no one batter an eye lid. Tipping the man, as she had been told by Callie was only polite, she climbed into the back of the car with the cases the young gentleman had placed inside, and told the driver once again the first address that came to mind. Their old apartment block.
It had been easy to convince the landlord to let Arizona out buy the sub letters. He had said he was going to kick them out after the Christmas period anyway, because apparently there had been several complaints made by the people neighbouring apartments about noise disturbances, both argumentative shouting and more … pleasurable shouting once the new occupancies made up. The landlord had said Arizona could leave her cases in his office until the night time give the new people enough time … i.e. the day to find a new place to live. She hadn't really thought about it when she had asked for their old apartment back, but the people would have to be evicted on Christmas Eve. The small, balding man reassured the blonde by saying he was going to do it either way; she might as well get her home back in the process.
Home. Was this now her home? She was now sitting on the couch three weeks later in the apartment after one of the longest days she had ever remembered having. The couch which had been previously owned by Callie Torres. She had been released from hospital a fortnight ago, and it seemed by the information she had been getting from Lexie Grey was staying with Mark. The Latina was living across the hall from her, in his apartment. From what Lexie had said, she didn't think Callie even knew Arizona was living in 502. She wondered if Callie knew, would she make her leave.
It wasn't that she was trying to avoid Callie. Or at least it hadn't started out that way. At first she just needed time to digest everything, to think and process the last few days, months even. Then as time progressed it had become harder and harder to know what to say, what to do. At first she could just throw herself into Christmas on the PEDs Wards, and enjoy the look on the patients' faces as "Santa" came into their room and delivered their presents. She had managed to bribe the same guy who had done it last year to do it again. She saw the joy on the tiny humans' faces and the relief on so many parents' faces too, as the realisation that their child had survived to see another Christmas. It had become harder once Christmas was over. Karev had been right, Stark was an ass. A big royal pain the ass!
Stark had to know, had to have heard the gossip about her and Callie, and yet whenever the floor Callie was on paged someone from PEDs, he always sent her. At times she had seen Mark and Lexie coming from Callie's corridor, knowing they had been to see her. It was on one of these times she had given Lexie, Callie's phone and told her that she would need her help to get Callie's stuff back to her. She had told Lexie where she was now living, and instantly panicked when Lexie had told her that Mark and she were now back together. She had however promised not to tell Mark or Callie where she was staying, under the condition that Arizona would at some point tell Callie herself. Arizona knew at some point she would have to talk to the brunette, but as time passed, as it slipped further away, she couldn't help but wonder if their time had passed. Callie had slept with someone else, forgetting for moment who that someone was; she had, even if it was just for one night, moved on. At times Arizona wished she could do the same, even if it was just for one night, forgot about Callie. But the Latina was just too hard to quit, to forget, stop loving…to get over.
Lexie had her own key to Mark's place, so dumping Callie's belonging she had collected from the hotel room, and those she had come across while unpacking the boxes from storage hadn't been hard. It was weird and a little daunting, because Lexie and Arizona had become quite good friends over the last three weeks. It wasn't that they hadn't been friends before Africa, just before at work she had been Lexie's boss, outside of work she was just Lexie's boyfriend's best friend's girlfriend. They hadn't had much in common. At first Arizona hadn't told the young brunette about Mark and Callie, she believed she deserved to hear it from the man himself. It seemed that on the third day of Arizona moving in he had told her, because there was a small knock on the apartment door while she had been eating, her famous Chinese take away. On opening the door to the other woman, Lexie had of her own accord wrapped her arms about the blonde, and knew she understood.
They rarely spoke about Mark. Or at least mention him by name. "Mark" was two people in their conversations. Lexie made it clear she wouldn't belittle Mark, not that Arizona had ever wanted her to, however she would and did criticize "the man" who Callie had slept with in a "you deserve better" friendship kind of way. She also praised and went goo-ey over her "boyfriend", which Arizona in turn listened to and encouraged where possible. They had become closer in a way, Lexie had even seen Arizona break down in tears more than once, and had given her encouragement that things would sort them selves out. The one time Arizona and Lexie had talk about Mark as the same person had been while the blonde had asked her why she wasn't mad or annoyed that Mark had slept with his ex sex buddy. Arizona could go as far as connecting Mark to the event, but not both Mark and Callie at the same time that was too hard.
Lexie had been honest. She had always known what Mark was like when she had fallen in love with him. Had known his reputation, what his was capable of, and as long as he remained faithful while they were together she would just have to live with the fact he had slept with someone else while they were apart. She had been surprised by the brunette's honesty. What surprised her more was the similarities between what Lexie had said, and her relationship with Callie. She had known that the two friends had slept together more than once over their friendship, and knew that Callie and her broken up, so she hadn't actually cheated on her. However she knew where the similarities ended. Mark had never told Lexie that he would never sleep with Callie again, that she was jealous for nothing that he had eyes, body and heart only for her, but Callie had. Arizona had made it extremely clear of her dislike for the nature of Callie and Mark's relationship for almost three years and had been told each time that nothing would ever happened between them again, and yet it had. Lexie had also Arizona that Callie was not pregnant. It wasn't something that Arizona had asked her to find out, but it seemed that this was one concerned both women had shared. It seemed that Lexie had asked Mark to found out, how he had done this she didn't know. He may have just asked Callie, taken blood work, she didn't know. But she did know that Callie was not pregnant with Mark's baby. That was something right?
The week before Callie had gone back to work, Lexie had been her spy. She had given Arizona Mark's timetable so she knew when he would be leaving the apartment so she could avoid him. Now Mark she had been avoiding, and on purpose! She had now reached the stage where she could say, with confidence that if left in a room alone with Mark Sloan she would kill him. Knowing that her new best friend would not approve of Arizona killing her boyfriend she refrained from putting herself in that position, only talking to him in a professional manner, when it was needed at work. Mark to his credit did not set out to annoy or upset her, he actually looked guilty whenever, whether it had been by chance or not, they would run into each other or catch each other's eye.
Avoiding Callie had been harder, at least for the week she had been off work, because in reality she could come and go from Mark's apartment at anytime she pleased. As she went through the boxes the two woman had, had stored she assigned boxes to hold Callie's things and left them by the door. So when, as she had so frequently over the last three week, Lexie texted her telling her the coast was clear, they could move the belonging across the hall. Arizona never went into the apartment, but did pass the younger woman boxes through the door. There had been once when Callie had it seemed forgotten something, returned within five minutes of leaving, almost catching them in the act. Arizona had heard the elevator's bell announcing someone on the floor, and had rushed back to the apartment closing the door behind her. She had watched through the peephole as "Little Grey" had come face to face with Callie, nearly dropping one of the boxes in surprised as Arizona hadn't had time to warn her. She had then watched as Lexie had explained something to the other dark haired woman, who then helped Lexie carry small pile of boxes Arizona had managed to drag out of own apartment into the hall, into the apartment opposite. It had been about twenty minutes later when Arizona heard a small knock on her door, and had once again found Lexie stood on the other side. She had simply told Callie that Arizona was going through their things and had asked her to fetch them across, which she had done with the help of the taxi driver to get them into the building, and then the landlord to get them to 501. It seemed that Callie had brought this story, but they had to be more careful in the future.
Leaning forward the small blonde banged her head repeated not so gently on the coffee table in front of her in frustration. She was going to have to talk to the brunette at some point. Now she was back at work, it seemed that, that time was fast approaching. She couldn't keep avoiding her, and apart of her didn't want to. However it seemed she couldn't help but do it. Callie had come back to work exactly one week today, and it seemed that the tiny humans of Seattle were determined to get them in the same room. The amount of ortho consults she had had to request this week had to be a record, and it seemed that Callie was only orthopaedic surgeon in the whole hospital, because every time Callie would appear. Arizona had almost managed to avoid working with Callie all week, managing by "chance" to stay in another patient's room just longer than was needed so Karev got to scrub in. Or by needing to see to a patient who had started to vomit blood all over himself and his mother, though this was actually by chance. She managed almost seven days to only see the brunette across corridors or the cafeteria or only needing to say "Doctor Torres" in front of parents. She almost managed until this morning, when ten year old Penny Gavin had decided climb onto her roof to see if Santa and his reindeer had left any footprints in the snow up there, and had fallen. She had broken her pelvis, right radius, left wrist and several fingers. As Alex had the day off, Stalk had assigned her to Penny case, and after a page to ortho, in had walked the woman she had been too scared to talk to. To make matters worse, she was soon followed in by the man himself, Mark Sloan. It seemed the universe hated her that much; because Penny had also managed to get some nasty facial laceration.
Two and half hours she had had to stand trying her hardest to only pay attention to Penny's slight body open on the table. She had to ignore the impulses to charge at Mark and throttle him where he stood, and to remind herself that Penny needed him to focus her face. That if she had done, what she really wanted to do she could lose her job, maybe even her license to practice. Hardest of any of the things she wanted to do, she had had to ignore the ortho surgeon who it seemed innocently would brush passed her, touch her or god even breath on her as she worked. She had to try her best to ignore it, because if she didn't, she would give in. She didn't know if she wanted to yet, no she knew she did. She just didn't know if she did, would Callie do something like this again. Did she trust the Latina enough to give her the power back to break her? Would Callie ever trust her enough to believe if, and it was a big if, they got back together, she wouldn't leave again.
How had things become so mixed up? How had she let things get so out of control? A year ago, a year ago they had made promises to each other. Kids, a family, and future. An unspoken promise of a wedding and marriage, though neither had asked, just enjoying the bubble they had created for themselves, just a little bit longer. But now…They were the closest and farthest away from each other than they had been in months, and Arizona had no idea what to do. She'd slept with Mark. Arizona now realised that it was because of this Mark had been so nice to her when she had returned. She wished she could believe it was because he felt guilty for sleeping with her when she was so vulnerable, that he knew how much both women loved each other, so wanted to help repair what was damaged. However that small bit in her, that small insecurity, the one that had had her convinced for almost three years, that Callie would go back to Mark, told her it was because he wanted to set her up. Set her so high, just to watch her fall. Apart of her knew this wasn't true, but shouldn't help but believe it, because of that insecurity, the one that Callie had denied so many times, had come true. Callie may not have left her for Mark, but she had gone straight back to him the moment the blonde had left.