Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Next chapter is here. Enjoy!

Chapter 20

Sleep did not come easily to Callie Torres that night. After the less than pleasant beat down by a pillow wielding blonde, the Latina fought to calm her mind. For some unknown reason she was back in Arizona's hotel room when she should have been crying into a pillow in some out of the way motel room, agonizing over having wasted the last decade of her life. For some unknown reason, Coach Webber called her and said she had another chance… just as long as the team agreed. So now her fate is in the hands of those women whom she hurt the most. The ones who looked up to her to be a leader, someone of inscrutable principles and strong character. Callie let her team down, and now she has to rely on those very same women to keep her alive.

But somehow she did find sleep in the dark, dwindling hours of the morning. Her dreams were rocky and mirrored her internal struggle, adding one more layer of guilt to her already tired body. After a night of tossing and turning coming from the other side of the room, Arizona wakes up feeling just as tired as when she fell asleep. Her mood isn't any better but there is a noticeably less need to hit something. Last night's attack on her captain was… relaxing. It was nice to let all those emotions fly, even if for a single, solitary moment. To let it out onto someone besides herself and know that it would be ok. Even after all Callie has done, after she abused whatever feelings the blonde had for her, Arizona felt close enough to the Latina to let Torres see that side of Arizona's pain. Pain that has burrowed itself so deep into the surgeon's soul that she doesn't know if it will ever leave, or if Arizona is doomed to spend the rest of her days with a big, gaping hole in her heart.

Blue eyes crack open and squint, the early morning light searing the last remaining vestiges of sleep from her brain. Her body is sore, legs tired from her punishment given by Coach Webber. As mile after mile passed under her feet, her dislike for Erica Hahn only increased. …And that's saying something. She thought she had lost Callie for good, gone from the team and gone from her life. What were the chances that the two of them would just run into each other once the Games were over? Arizona didn't even know where Callie called home. And the blonde doesn't know where she, herself, will end up either. She has no home, no ties, no real family left after her parents' divorce and brothers death. Anywhere Arizona Robbins has her feet planted is as much home as anywhere else in the world.

But then a moan of displeasure pulls Arizona's attention to her roommate and the pitcher watches as tanned limbs flail under a fluffy white duvet, Callie desperately trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. After rubbing her eyes and checking her phone, Arizona finds that Webber has sent out another mass text, calling for the team to meet in his room at 830 this morning… again. Butterflies start to flap in her stomach, anxiety rearing its ugly head. Team USA had received an identical text calling for a meeting this morning, and that ended with two of the best players being cut from the team. But then she remembers that the secret is out, all of it. All the names are out on the table. Amelia Shepard, Callie Torres, Erica Hahn… and Arizona Robbins. There is no secret anymore so … what more could be left to say?

Rolling out of bed, Arizona stumbles to the sink just outside of the bathroom and starts brushing her teeth. Blue eyes stare back at her in the reflection, haggard and dull from the compounded stress of this last week. Her gaze falls to the floor where a bright color catches her attention. In the trash can is the package of gummi worms the Latina left on Arizona's pillow yesterday. Whether they were a goodbye gift, and I'm sorry gift, please forgive me gift, the blonde doesn't know. Maybe it was some last minute attempt at getting Arizona back in her good graces, or Callie was trying to bring up the memories of the two of them sharing an easy relationship. One full of back of the bus chats, sharing ear buds and listening to the same songs, and ruining their teeth with sugary candies.

Spitting out her toothpaste and running her brush under the faucet, Arizona leans down and pulls the package from the trash. She doesn't know why, and frankly she doesn't want to know why. Not yet. But… it's a shame to waste perfectly good gummy worms.

She sits on the edge of her bed and flicks through the multiple emails that she received during the night when another groan of annoyance falls from plump lips. It's 7:45, only forty five minutes until they are due in Webber's room, and Arizona figures Callie will need that time to make herself appear halfway human.

Her mind is pushing her further and further into consciousness, but Callie fights it. Five more minutes, that's all she wants. Just five more minutes. But the wish evaporates when pillow smacks her in the back of her head, making Callie bolt awake, wide eyed and confused.

"Get up." Arizona snaps, weapon in hand ready for another blow incase Callie attempts to fall back asleep. "You got less than an hour to get ready." She adds.

Dark eyes lock with blue, Callie trying to clear the haze from her mind. "You know… that's getting real old, real fast." She groans, then rubs at her eyes and steels herself for the battle yet to come.

At 8:28 Erica Hahn walks into Coach Webber's room and takes a seat. She has no idea what this meeting is about, especially after yesterday's meeting. The secret is out, well… halfway out… and Richard made his moves. But there is still the fear in the back of her mind that she has yet seen the last of all this. A drug 'scandal', as Webber put it, never goes away so easily. And now Hahn fears that her part in all of this is about to catch up with her.

Suited up players filter in, each exchanging an equally confused look with everyone else. All wonder what is coming now. Who will be the next to be cut, how much further will Team USA be cut down before they eventually fold. Everyone watches Richard, perched on the corner of the small hotel room desk, waiting for some sort of signal or sign. Something that will tip them off as to what is playing through the big man's head but his practiced face reveals nothing.

"Bets on whose been snorting the bath salts this time?" King asks when she enters the room, immediately plopping down in the corner of the couch.

"Ten bucks says it's Kepner." Yang drawls before pulling a dry fruit loop from her little breakfast cereal box and tossing it in the air, catching it in her mouth with practiced ease.

"Hey!" April yelps. "Why would you-" But the redhead's words are cut off when Callie Torres pushes the door open and enters the room. All eyes land on their captain… ex-captain… whatever she is now. Mouths hang agape and minds race. Steel blue eyes widen in shock, latching onto the sorrowful chocolate of the banished catcher's. Arizona slips into the room behind her and quickly takes a seat. Everyone is in their uniform, everyone save for Callie.

Webber clears his throat, pulling everyone's attention from the Latin to him. "Thank you, ladies, for dragging yourselves out of bed an hour earlier than planned. I know you're… confused. And frankly, so am I. But… some things have transpired since yesterday morning, as you can see." All eyes float, not so stealthily, to the Latina chewing on her fingernail, Callie's leg going a hundred miles an hour as she taps out her nervous energy on the floor below her.

Continuing, Webber adds "Now, I hold you all in the utmost respect so I firmly believe that you all deserve-"

Cutting her coach off, Charlotte asks "What the hell is going on Webber? Cut the bull." King can always be trusted to dig right into the dirt. The southerner has a bark, and her bite is just as fierce.

Erica's fears are proven true when Richard answers "I've been enlightened with the full story of what happened with Amelia. It appears… Torres was not the only guilty party."

"I knew it. It was Kepner." Yang deadpans.

"Hey!" April yelps again, her voice rising about twelve octaves.

"No, it was Hahn." Arizona spits out before she can bite her tongue. Necks nearly snap when heads turn to look at the pitcher. Robbins had not intended on spilling the beans, she respected Webber enough to do what he thought right. But he was sugar coating it too much and Arizona wanted the team to know. …The truth this time.

When no one says anything, Arizona stands and faces her team, setting her glare on the very guilty and very stone faced Erica Hahn. "It was Erica. Erica asked Callie to cover it up. They asked me to overlook the fact that Shepard used my script pad to high." She lets her words sink in, looks flicking between Arizona, Callie, Erica, and Richard. "Stupidly… Callie went along with it. And stupidly… so did I. But Erica was part of this too. Amelia was the one who got high, but it was Hahn's insistence to keep it on the down low."

"That's enough Robbins." Webber says quietly. Arizona blushes slightly, her authority issues returning just as quickly as that anger that made her snap. Quickly retaking her place, the head man in charge adds "So… there you have it. Now… here's the deal. Amelia stepped down before her drug test is completed. So, technically, there has been no real infraction. …Seeing as this is a team, we win together and we fail together, I decided to put the decision of whether Torres should be brought back to you all. You are the ones who will be competing with her, you are the ones who will be trusting her on the field. It's your choice. Your vote. Up to you." The twelve women look between themselves, each wondering what the others are thinking. Callie's stomach is doing barrel rolls and Erica has broken out in a cold sweat.

"I'll uhh-" Callie groans, then clears the lump in her throat. "I'll step out so I won't be pressuring you all."

"No." Arizona snaps, reaching out and grasping the Latina's hand to keep her where she is. "You don't have to go because it's a simple answer." Looking back to the rest of her team, Robbins says "Yes. That's my vote. I vote she stay on the team. She did what she did to keep her team together and strong… as wrong as it might have been." Blue eyes find brown again and she adds "But I get it. I forgive her. So… my vote is yes." The smallest smile crosses Callie's face but never really makes it to her eyes because there are still eleven other woman who could veto her pitcher.

"I agree." Addison states quickly.

"Me too." Teddy adds.

One after another voice their approval, all wanting their captain back on the team. Callie has been with them since the beginning, and for most of them, it's not Team USA without C.T. The monster behind the plate that makes batters quake.

"Thank you. …I won't let you all down again, I promise." Callie breathes out, tears glistening in her eyes out of appreciation. Richard just nods and tosses the Latina back her jersey with a silent warning of not to screw up again. After a beat of silence, someone moves to stand and the rest follow.

"Wait!" Addison announces, stopping everyone in their tracks. "What about Hahn?" She asks, anger building towards the blonde after hearing what part Erica played in all this. She let her ex-sister in law hide her problem, and let her best friend take the fall. And Addison does not let people take advantage of her friends. "Shouldn't she have some sort of punishment? I mean… it sounds like this was all her idea."

"Now hold on-" Erica snaps, fury raging in her eyes.

"She's right." Teddy snarls. "You're supposed to be a captain, Hahn. At least Callie stepped up to the plate. You just sat there… let Torres take the hit. While you did… what? Sulked, bitched at Robbins, bit everyone's head off just because you felt like shit? Not very 'captain-y' of you."

"You watch your mouth, Altman." Erica warns, both slowly rising to their feet and going chest to chest. The rest back up, giving the duo some room to go. But before anything can go down, Sloan and Hunt work their way between the two women, pushing them to opposite corners of the room.

With her glare still locked on the blonde, Teddy says "I don't want her as my captain anymore. She doesn't deserve that right." This catches everyone's attention. Two months ago it would have to be a cold day in hell for anyone to challenge Erica Hahn's right to lead. Sure, she's not the warmest or friendliest woman, but she's a damn good leader. But now? She's lost all her credibility with her team.

"Hold on ladies…" Webbers says carefully, very aware of the fact his team is like a stretched rubber band right now. One more yank in any direction and the whole thing could snap.

"No, she's right." Addison steps up. "Hahn abused her position and and and… No, I don't want her representing me."

"What about Callie?" Erica asks, trying to flip all this attention back onto the other woman.

"What about her?" Addison snaps. "At least she did something. Granted, it was late and… very martyr-ish-"

"That's not a word." Lexie cuts in because her brain would have gone haywire if she didn't correct the redhead.

"Can it, Grey!" Montgomery snaps, red hair whirling as Addison's killing gaze finds her younger team mate. Taking a deep breath, she continues "Torres screwed up, but then she manned up and took responsibility. But you? You just… You don't deserve the right to be our captain, Erica. So… I want it put to a vote."

"You can't-" Erica starts to object but gets cut off by a pissed off southerner.

"Second." King adds.

"Fine." Webber's says. "Those who want Hahn stripped of her captaincy, raise your hand." Every hand, save for Callie's, raises. What use to be anger and guilt now dissipates and Erica is left with only numbness. For years, she has been her team's captain. Earning their respect and trust. And just like that… in one vote… it's all taken away.

Wanting to be as fair as possible, Richard calls again. "And now for Torres…" Callie's stomach drops from her body and she closes her eyes, waiting for her sentence to be passed. Sure, she's back on the team. But she was crazy to think that it'd be just like it always was. It's been years since Callie has been just a player. She's a leader and, for as many times she says she hates it, Callie loves being her team's captain. The one they all look up to, seek guidance from. It makes all her past mistakes seem… worth it. All the hardships she's been through have only strengthen her in this position. And now… it's going to be taken away, one raised hand at a time.

But then silence greets her ears and she slowly opens on eye. Then the other. Looking over her team, she finds no raised hands. A silent showing of how much her team still cares for her, how much they respect her even after all of this. The Latina is able to catch every player's gaze, all of them giving some small sign of acceptance. A tight smile. A small nod. A wink. Everyone, except Arizona.

"Can I get a time, Blue?" Callie asks as she pops out of her squat.

"Time!" The umpire announces, throwing his hands up in the air and gesturing for the catcher to head to the pitching mound. Brown eyes see Mark Sloan step out of the shade of the dugout and start to walk on the field but Callie waves him off. She wants to talk to her pitcher alone.

Arizona takes the rag from the back of her waistband and mops up the sweat rolling down her forehead. Miami in the middle of summer is not one of her favorite places. Let alone being covered in a tight polyester uniform with the sun beating down on the open field and humidity so thick you could feel the steam rising off the ground. The Latina crosses the chalk and accepts the towel from her pitcher, wiping her own sweat from her forehead and neck.

"How you feeling, Battleship?" Callie asks, handing the towel back to Arizona.

"Fine." The blonde answers shortly. This is the best appearance Robbins has made since that game the day the whole drug thing came out. But still, the duo is missing that… spark.

"I want to face these next two a little more aggressively. You game?" The catcher asks. Normally, Callie would call whatever sign she wanted and she'd know her pitcher would follow her lead. But now? …She's not sure.

"Yeah, whatever." Robbins replies, tucking the towel back into the waistband of her pants.

"Arizona…" Callie pleads, and blue eyes finally find hers. "You trust me, right?"

Arizona searches those brown depths, feeling every ouch of sincerity Callie is pouring out of them, but they don't hit home. With a sigh, Robbins says "Call what you want, Boss. The pitches will be there."

"Pitcher…" The umpire calls, warning Arizona and Callie that their time out is drawing to a close. So with one last look, Torres pulls her catcher's mask back on and returns to her position behind the plate. The next batter steps up and Callie signals what she wants, and as promised, Arizona delivers. Mark looks on, somewhat concerned when Torres called time out but breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his duo clicking again. Maybe not a hot as they were a week ago, but that will come back. He is sure of it. They just need to find their groove again. Arizona retires that batter, and then gets the third out by forcing the next batter to fly out. And as his two stars past, he gives them a solid clap on the shoulder. He's sure now, his team is solid.

Deep chocolate eyes go wide as she takes in the TV equipment all pointed at her. Callie Torres is not one for public speaking, or even speaking in front of a camera. But here she is, freshly showered and changed, her hair done up and makeup being touched up while some big name news person prepares to interview her. Frankly, the Latina is surprised she is still the voice for her team. But they voted this morning, she's their captain and now Webber has insisted that Team USA's captain will be the one in front of the camera. Her… and her pitcher.

Arizona sips on her water as the makeup person finishes her last minute touch up on Callie. And the blonde can't help but think that Callie doesn't need to be touched up, she's perfect. Even with helmet hair, and sweat rolling down that beautiful caramel flesh, Callie Torres is the image of perfection. Which just reinforces the notion that Arizona can't go there. Not after what happened, not after all that has happened to the blonde. It wouldn't work. Arizona would ruin the goddess.

Once deemed acceptable, Callie is left alone to wait next to Arizona until its go time. The Latina's leg is going a mile a minute, nerves making themselves know to the usually stoic and sure woman.

Arizona notices, and asks "You're not nervous, are you?"

"I uhh…" Callie clears her throat but then closes her mouth as she is sure her quick lunch is about to make a reappearance. "I don't… I don't do well with public speaking… or cameras…" A sweat breaks across a tanned forehead and Torres is sure that her makeup is streaking down her face this very second. It suddenly becomes very hot and she starts to fan herself.

"Deep breaths, its just the three of us." Robbins replies. Even if she is still pissed off at Callie, Arizona doesn't want to see her upset or sick… or make a fool of herself on national TV. So the blonde reaches across and lays a warm hand on the bouncing knee, Torres immediately stopping her nervous habit and locking eyes onto sparkling blue ones next to her.

"Go out with me." Callie whispers, shocking herself just as much as Arizona. But neither have a chance to add anything to the Latina's request because a red light turns on and the camera's are rolling. The interview starts out rough, Callie getting tongue tied and Arizona recovering from the shock of her catcher's proposal. But after a couple introductory questions, both players mellow out a bit and actually start to interact well. Not only with just the interviewer, but with each other. Something that hasn't happened in a long time.

Then that question is asked, the one Torres knew would be coming. "So, Callie, last time we talked to Team USA, it was you and Amelia Shepard leading Team USA into the Olympics. Now you have a new pitcher, and are a spot empty with only a few weeks left with no Shepard on the roster. What's going on?"

With a deep breath, the Latina recites the statement Richard Webber prepared. "Amelia stepped down from the team yesterday due to some personal issues that required her full time attention. I know that it pained her greatly to have to pull out so close to the games but… it was what was best for both her and this team. We are a player down, but our coaches have a list of very talented and very eager alternatives that are more than happy to join us on our road to victory."

Turning her attention to the blonde, the interviewer asks "Arizona, what is it like to be bumped up from 'second string' to first. The main pitcher. Not only coming in as… seemingly, an unknown. But being the real muscle behind this team?"

"I don't know if I'd call myself the muscle…" Arizona replies, a giggle falling from her lips that calms Callie's nerves. "But it's… I don't know. It doesn't really seem real to me. I don't think there was ever real 'strings' per say. Shepard was an ace pitcher and was lucky enough to have Torres as her catcher. And I'd like to think that I am pretty good-"

"She is." Callie cuts in, blue eyes darting to hers and the Latina receiving the first real smile from Arizona in a week's time.

"But… getting paired with Callie was all about chemistry, not so much about bumping Amelia out of first string. Now that she has stepped down? Yeah, there are some definite nerves there but I just… I have to look at the present, you know? Worry about this game, this batter, this pitch. And not get all wrapped up with some game that may happen down the road." Robbins continues.

"And what does it mean for you to represent the United States of America in London?" The interviewer asks, checking off the questions on her cheat sheet as she goes on. "Your brother was killed in the line of duty for this country, and now you are, in a sense, in another line of duty." Callie glances to the blonde next to her just in time to see Arizona's shoulders slump. Of all the topics this woman could have asked, she had to go with the juicy topic even if it means drudging up a pain that Arizona doesn't want to feel again. "What does this mean to you? Do you think your brother would be proud?"

"It's… Would he be proud? Yeah, he would." Arizona replies weakly, trying very hard not to break down in front of the cameras. The last thing she needs is for the whole nation to see tears fall from her eyes. Arizona Robbins doesn't cry. "What does it mean to me? It means… everything. Wearing the same flag on my chest that my brother wore on his arm means everything to me. My number is 7, and Tim's company number was 7. It's… it means everything to me, to carry on his ideal of international unity. You know… everyone hears the word Marine, and they think soldier. Warrior. …Killer. But that's not what Tim was. He was a peacekeeper. He was a protector, he was a savior."

Brown eyes start to glisten as Callie listens to Arizona's answers, and she has to blink hard to keep her own tears from falling. She wants so badly to reach out, to close that small distance between then and take the blonde's hand, to give her some support. But that wouldn't do. Not at all. With the unknown reason for Amelia Shepard, one of USA's most promoted players, disappearing suddenly, and then some sort of intimate touching between two other players? That's how rumors get started, the kind of rumors that tear teams apart before they even have a chance.

"And… I think as Olympians, we share that position." Arizona continues, eyes glazed over as her memories take her back to easier, happier times. One full of love, from her brother, from her happy parents, from her girlfriend. "As Olympians, we come together in the spirit of the sport to promote peace. No matter nationality or language, religious beliefs… we all have the same passion. And I think that's the message. That nations, as different as they are great, can come together in peace and get along. ...That's what Tim was fighting for. And that's what I'm fighting for. He just fought in sand, and I fight in the clay."

"And fight you shall." The woman interviewing them replies, a true smile crossing her lips for the first time. "And know that this country thanks you both for your dedication. …As well as your brother's sacrifice." With that, the interview winds down and soon the red light bulb clicks off. Arizona yanks her mic off unceremoniously and flees from sight before Callie can follow.

"Arizona… Arizona!" The Latina calls, feverishly trying to get the tech guy to move faster, but by the time she is free, the blonde is nowhere to be seen.

The next day is considered a down day since Team USA does not have a scrimmage but that doesn't mean they don't train hard. The coaches take advantage of the slightly cooler mornings by having the girls practice for a couple hours just as the sun is coming up. Arizona rests her shoulder and instead takes some time at shortstop while both Callie and Erica take turns breaking in their newest team mate. Lucy Fields, a blonde from Alabama, the team they played at their last stop, is an up and coming pitcher. All the players keep one eyed glued to the rookie, wondering if she is up to snuff for their standards even though there is no way Amelia Shepard's spot could be filled completely.

After practice is a weight training session, followed by more promotions, but finally the bus pulls up out front of their hotel. "7:30 tomorrow morning ladies. Good work today. Get some sleep." Webber announces and then the team unloads.

Once settled in, showered and changed into her pajamas, Arizona sits on her bed in utter exhaustion. She thought things would lighten once the drug thing came out, but somehow everything has gotten heavier. Or maybe it's all the same and the finish line is approaching, making her feel claustrophobic. She doesn't know. Cracking the window and pulling off the screen, Arizona straddles the windowsill and lights up a cigarette, not caring if this is a 'no-smoking' room or not.

Callie crosses the room and snags the lit cigarette from the blonde's fingers then flicks it out the window. Robbins' jaw clenches but she doesn't say anything, just like she hasn't said anything since their interview yesterday afternoon. Instead, the pitcher pulls another smoke from her pack and lights up. Before the puff of noxious gas is able to wrap its fingers around Arizona's air sacs, tanned fingers snatch it from her grasp again.

"Ok, this is like the least fun game ever." Arizona sneers.

"I don't like it when you smoke." Callie states matter of factly, then snatches both the lighter and pack from Robbins' hands and throws them out the window as well. Blue eyes roll and Arizona pushes past Callie, grabbing her notebook and plopping down on her bed.

Silent minutes pass, Callie's mind going a hundred miles a minute. But then, somehow, those same words slip out again. "Go out with me." Cerulean eyes freeze on the page, Arizona not sure if she heard Torres correctly or not. She wasn't sure if she heard them right the first time. But now, there they are again. Callie must mean them if she says them twice.

Turning in front of the mirror to look at Arizona head on, Callie asks "Would you go out with me?"

Blonde tresses wave as Arizona shakes her head slowly. "Callie… don't do this."

"Why not?" Torres replies. "I like you, Arizona. And I know I screwed up. But I-I want to show you th-that that wasn't me. I mean, it was. But that person who I was, that's not me." Words are falling from her mouth faster than she can filter, and Callie is aware of only half of what she is really saying. "Go out with me, please. I know it's hard, it's complicated, it's messy and against the rules. But… I like you. And you like me. So please… just go out with me."

Arizona sits up and swings her legs off the edge of her bed, hanging her head in her hands. "No." She whispers.

Even though she was expecting it, Callie can't ignore the dagger did straight into her heart. "Why not?"

"You… I can't… No. Callie, no." The blonde breathes out, her own stomach knotting.

"Why not?" The Latina keeps pushing. If she's going to get shut out by a woman who obviously wants Callie just as much as Callie wants her, she's going to make Arizona give her a good reason.

Arizona snaps, that last straw finds the camel's back. "Because!" She barks, making Callie jump but the Latina keeps her gaze locked on blue eyes. "Because I have nothing to offer you, Callie!" A shaking hand rubs roughly at Arizona's face, the pitcher somehow making her way to her feet.

"A relationship is about give and take and I have nothing to give you, Calliope. I'd be taking and taking and taking and then you'd realize that you deserve better and then you'd leave me. And I don't know if I could survive that." It's coming up, finally. It's all coming up and Arizona is tired of trying to hold it back.

"Why do you think I'd leave?" Callie asks softly from her perch on her mattress.

"Because everyone leaves. Everyone." The blonde answers. "Everyone I've ever trusted has let me down. I trusted my brother to come back from Iraq, but he didn't. …All I got was a damn flag as they lowered his body into the cold, hard ground. …I trusted my parents to be there for me, to help me… help me understand, to greive, to accept that my brother is dead. But they didn't. Instead they picked and fought and yelled at each other until they were just… zombies walking around the earth. And then they split whatever family I had in half. …My girlfriend, the one person who is suppose to love me and comfort me, left because I was crying myself to sleep every night when all I wanted was someone to hold me. To take me in their arms and let me cry. Let me be sad and to let me grieve. But she packed her bags and ran because I wasn't fun to be with. Because I wasn't the bright and shiny person she said she fell in love with." Tears stream from blue eyes, but Arizona doesn't feel them. "But most of all? The one person who let me down the most was me. The one thing I've been working towards since I can remember. To become a surgeon. A damn good surgeon. And then I go and fail my oral boards, losing my fellowships and any chance I might have of paying off the hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt I have floating over my head."

"So what did I do? I quit. I bailed. It got hard, and I bailed. I started pitching again. I pitched and I pitched and I pitched. Then one day I tried out for Team USA. Who would have thought I'd make?" Arizona pauses, then a sarcastic laugh falls from her lips. "I sure as hell didn't, but guess what? Here I am. I wake up each morning without a brother, without a family, without a girlfriend, and without a job. …I'm a softball player, Callie. I mean, who does that? And I'm not even doing that very well anymore. I'm actually waiting for the day Webber says "Yeah, we're cutting you loose." Because it's coming. I know it is. Because that is the last thing that can be taken away from me."

Blue lock with brown and Arizona lowers her voice "So please… please tell me what you think I have to offer you. What good I might be in a relationship. Please! Because I… I got nothing. I am barely hanging on, and it feels like I'm about to fall through the floor at any minute. Or that around the next corner a bus is just waiting to run me over." Callie sits in silence, letting the blondes tragic words soak in.

Arizona stops her pacing, her throat having gone dry, and turns to face the Latina. Shaking her head, Arizona says softly "You don't want me, Calliope. You deserve someone better, someone who hasn't been numb from pain and grief for the past six months. Someone who can get through the National Anthem without curling into a ball and crying her eyes out. So just… don't ask me, Callie. Because, frankly, I don't have the strength to say no again."

Tears streak down the blondes face and Callie wants nothing more to reach out and wipe them away. "Arizona…" She breathes out, not knowing what else to say. Because, what do you say to a woman whose life has been shredded in just six months?

"I'm sorry." Arizona whispers, then wipes her eyes while flicking off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and crawls into bed. She turns away from her roommate, the wrinkled picture of her brother grasped in her hand as silent tears roll down her face.

Callie sits on her mattress, her head turned to stare at the shape of the curled up blonde, soft sniffles filling the air as Arizona tries to keep her pain held in. It breaks her heart seeing her pitcher like this. The hurt and the pain and the stress that has been coiled up inside Arizona is enough to make anyone twice as strong or old or wise snap, and how she gets herself up in the morning is a wonder to Callie. She's no stranger to heartache herself, but Callie has always had someone there. Someone's shoulder to cry on. Someone to hold her, to whisper 'it will all be ok' in her ear. Someone who will be there in the middle of the night. Everyone needs someone like that.

So with determination, Callie stands and rounds her bed, but doesn't crawl underneath her own covers. Instead, she lifts the sheets over Arizona and climbs in next to the blonde. She doesn't say a word, instead Callie settles on her side and wraps an arm around the smaller woman's body. Those silent tears immediately erupt into sobs and the Latina just nestles the blonde closer to her, wrapping Arizona in a cocoon of warmth and support. She holds the broken woman tight, giving Arizona the closeness she's been craving all along. Soon, those cries and tears fade away and the pitcher relaxes in the Latina's arms. Neither of them say a word, neither of them needing to say a word. Blue eyes close and her mind drifts off into sleep, more at peace now than she has been in the past six months.

Callie buries her nose into golden locks, inhaling the sweet vanilla coconut-y scent of Arizona's shampoo. She's dreamed about this, about holding Arizona as she sleeps, but she never thought it would be under these circumstances. The Latina thought it would be after an amazing dinner, maybe a walk through a quiet, romantic park. Then they'd end up in a passionate embrace, Callie teasingly removing Arizona's clothes and then showing the blonde all the skills tanned fingers possess. Only then, after round after glorious round of giving and receiving would they then hold each other close and feel each other's heart beats. …But, things never go the way you expect them to. Ever. So the catcher takes what she can, and gives what she can. Even though Arizona said no doesn't mean the Latina won't ask again. And until that time where Arizona says yes, Callie will wait. Wait and hope…

AN2: How you all liking the slow burn? Sizzling yet? Let me know. And as always, thanks for reading! You all are great.