The very talented twinsparadox and I are aware of similarities between her story, "Hard Landing," and this one. We've talked, everything's kosher, and there are absolutely no hard feelings on either side. :) We're coming at our work from different places and with different end goals. Her story is awesome! I highly recommend you check it out!
This chapter is long! It's a sad one, but I promise happier times are ahead. Beta'd once again by the seriously amazing englishstrawbie. Thank you, friend!
Seven days had passed since the plane crash. It was hard to believe time could keep moving in the aftermath of something so huge and so awful, but suddenly, seven days had gone by. Seven days, a whole week in which Lexie Grey wasn't alive. Memories of burning wreckage, broken bodies, desperate screams, and unimaginable pain had haunted Arizona's every thought – and, she suspected, the thoughts of Derek, Meredith, Cristina, and Mark – for seven days.
It had been seven days since Callie had waited on her bed in blissful oblivion for her wife to come home to her, and it had been six days since she hadn't walked through the apartment door, appearing, nearly lifeless, on the hospital's helipad instead.
Callie had said it herself: life changes in an instant; stops on a dime. She just hadn't expected to have been talking about her own life this time.
Six days ago, Callie had stood in an operating room in which she'd worked hundreds of times, holding tools she had used so often she'd long since lost track. She had stared into the abyss of her wife's leg, open before her, and she'd held her bones in her own two hands. Callie had been surprised to find that they felt much the same as any other bones she'd handled in her career, except – and she was probably imagining things – Arizona's bones had felt softer somehow. Lighter.
Six days ago, Callie had resigned herself to the knowledge that, even after an hour and a half of trying, she just couldn't save Arizona's femur. Consumed by a somber, penetrating silence, she had assembled the titanium replacement, closed, and scrubbed out without another word. And for six days, Callie had been beating herself up. She should have been able to fix the break and save the bone. She was an ortho god, for heaven's sake. If she couldn't fix her wife's broken leg, what was she even doing in the O.R.? She had tortured herself for six days, reading every article she could find on the latest advances in repairing compressed fractures. She had gone over and back over the surgery so many times she could perform her sleep.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Callie knew the guilt was irrational. Arizona was alive, and barring any complications from out of left field, she would walk again. If anything, the titanium would help the whole thing heal faster. The infected, decrepit bone was gone, replaced with something much stronger. It was just a matter of Arizona's wound healing and the titanium bonding, fusing, and fitting in with the rest of the bones in the leg.
Callie knew all of that, and yet she saw herself as the reason Arizona was lying immobilized in a hospital bed with her leg bolted into an uncomfortable cage. She was the reason her wife would endure horrendous pain for the next few months and the reason she'd set off metal detectors in airports for the rest of her life – not that Arizona was going to be rushing to an airport anytime soon.
"Do you have any threes?" Arizona's voice cut into Callie's thoughts, flat and monotone. Go Fish was the most boring game either of them knew, and yet they were on their fourth game. Some days boring was better than reliving what had happened, preferable to talking about fear and death and brokenness.
Callie blinked, re-situating herself in the present time and place. "No. Uh, go fish."
Arizona's abdominal incision was healing nicely, and the top half of her bed was propped up partway so she could sit. Halfheartedly, she reached for the pile of cards on the table by her bed and picked one up. It was the three she'd asked for, but her lips didn't so much as twitch at the corners. She had survived a plane crash. Her body had sustained almost more than it could take. She had lost a dear friend and colleague, not to mention a part of herself she wasn't sure she would ever find again. Who the hell cared if she was winning at a card game?
"Do you have -" Callie was cut off by a knock at the doorframe as Cristina appeared, dressed formally in a skirt and a nice blouse.
"Cristina," Arizona said, surprised to see her. Out of everyone, Cristina's injuries had been among the least severe, and Arizona had expected her to be running the show in Minnesota by now. "I thought you were going to Mayo."
Cristina regarded Arizona for a moment, not having seen her since they'd all left the crash site. She hadn't particularly wanted to see anyone else who had been in the crash – apart from Meredith, of course – not wanting to drudge up memories of the experience or, worse, have to talk about them. And Arizona hadn't really been up for visitors anyway. "Yeah, well. Things change."
Arizona blinked and swallowed heavily.
"I'm just here to ask if you changed your mind about going." Cristina directed the statement at Callie. "Owen still has room in his car."
"Going where?" Arizona asked.
"No," Callie said, shaking her head. "I'm staying here. Tell Owen thanks."
"Going where?" Arizona asked again. "Callie…"
"Okay." Cristina stood awkwardly in the doorway for a second, looking as if she wanted to say something to Arizona, and then she turned to leave. "Well, bye."
"Cristina!" Arizona called after her. Reluctantly, Cristina turned around. "Tell Teddy I know she's busy, but that's no excuse not to visit me." She sounded much more playful than she felt. She knew Teddy had been through hell this year herself, losing Henry and her feud with Owen, but Arizona missed her friend. She and Teddy always tried to be there for each other, and she was hurt by the complete lack of contact this time around. Arizona knew she looked bad, but Teddy wasn't the type to be put off by things like that, and she should have been by to at least try to make Arizona laugh by now. "Tell her I may not have showered, but it's been a week. She can't avoid me forever, even if I do smell."
Cristina shot Callie an incredulous look. "You didn't tell her?"
Arizona's brow furrowed. "Tell me what?"
Callie looked at Arizona, a pained expression on her face, mouth opening and closing as she tried to figure out what to say.
"Teddy's gone." Cristina cut right to the chase. Arizona felt all the air rush out of her body. Her mouth dropped open and she just stared at Cristina, eyes wide. "She got a job with MedCom. She left last week."
Arizona looked from Cristina to Callie and back again. Both of them were looking at her with sympathy etched across their faces, which on Cristina looked entirely out of place. Arizona didn't want to see it. She didn't need people feeling sorry for her. She was feeling sorry enough for herself, and besides, she was thoroughly convinced she didn't deserve anyone's sympathy anyway.
She felt a lump forming in the back of her throat, despite her best efforts to push it down. "She didn't…she didn't say goodbye," Arizona whispered. "She didn't even say goodbye."
Callie looked like she might cry herself. "She didn't really say goodbye to anyone," she said. "It happened fast. She left before…before we knew."
It made sense. Without Henry, Teddy really didn't have anything grounding her in Seattle anymore. She might as well have been anywhere, and if an exciting new job prospect had come along, there was no reason not to take it. But still, she couldn't have stuck around another day until Arizona was home? She couldn't even have found Callie on her way out and said, "Hey, tell Arizona I said goodbye"?
"She left," Arizona repeated quietly. Everyone left.
"I'm sorry," Cristina said, and she sounded like she meant it. She turned to Callie. "You sure you're not coming?"
Callie's eyes were still fixed on Arizona. "I'm sure."
With a halfhearted shrug, Cristina turned and left without saying another word.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Arizona asked around the lump that just wouldn't go away. "And where aren't you going?"
Callie blinked. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't know how to tell you."
Arizona scoffed. "Seriously? You couldn't figure out how to say, 'Hey, Arizona, you know our good friend Teddy who we talked to every day for two years? She's gone. She got a new job and she left without saying goodbye. Just like everyone else.' You didn't know how to say that? You open your mouth and say words, Callie. You should try it sometime." Arizona wasn't sure when her volume had increased, but she was yelling by the time she'd finished.
Callie swallowed and forced herself to remember that she wasn't the real target of Arizona's anger. When Arizona got scared or was feeling hurt, she picked fights, flung words, and more often than not, Callie was in the line of fire. It was how Arizona deflected her feelings until she was ready to address them. It had thrown Callie at first, had offended her. Now, though the initial impact of the words stung – they were sharp, and Arizona did kind of have a point – Callie knew it was her job to be the calm, collected presence her wife needed. "I'm sorry," she said again. "Arizona…"
There was no fighting the lump anymore as it erupted into tears. Arizona had cried every day for seven days and she was sick of it, yet she couldn't stop. She hadn't meant to yell at Callie. For the past seven days, Callie had been nothing but supportive, loving, understanding…perfect. Everything Arizona didn't deserve.
Nothing in Arizona's life, in her head, made any sense to her; it had all been shattered in the crash, and when her frustration over the emotions she couldn't control got the best of her, she lashed out. She always had.
Callie knew that. "I wasn't trying to keep it from you," she said calmly, rationally. "It wasn't a secret. I was just trying to figure out the best way and the best time to tell you. I don't really understand it myself, to be honest, so I thought maybe if I understood it better first…" Callie sighed. She was going to miss Teddy and, if she were honest with herself, she was a little miffed that she hadn't called. "If it makes you feel any better, she didn't say goodbye to me, either."
Arizona knew Callie was right. Before now, Teddy's name hadn't come up, and if Callie had just started a conversation out of the blue with the news, Arizona would have broken. She knew that she would have. She knew her anger wasn't directed at Callie; it was meant for Teddy, MedCom, the situation, herself. Hearing Callie's words spoken in her composed, even, soothing voice helped her process all of that. She felt the anger – most of it, anyway – fade from her body, to be replaced with grief and weariness.
"Sorry," Arizona sniffled as her tears began to taper off. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm not mad."
"I know you're not," Callie reassured softly, reaching for Arizona's hand. "You don't need to be sorry."
"She left," Arizona said again. People left. She should probably be used to it by now. Her father had left for tours of duty all the time. A few of her exes had left back in the day. Tim and Nick had left, and they didn't come back. Now Teddy. People left – people Arizona truly cared about and trusted. They just…went away.
Callie had never left. Granted, Arizona had been so afraid of Callie leaving that she had always been the one to leave first – you couldn't leave someone who was already gone – but then she had learned to trust and had discovered that Callie wasn't going anywhere. Callie was a safe place, maybe the only one Arizona had left.
"I know," Callie breathed. "Trust me, she's going to get an earful the next time she hears from me."
Arizona chuckled mirthlessly. "Defending my honor. Thanks."
"Who said anything about your honor?" Callie teased. "She stood me up too, you know."
Arizona appreciated the attempt at levity, she truly did. She loved that Callie could be sweet and supportive and still find a way to make jokes. At least Teddy hadn't taken that presence from Arizona's life entirely. But today, she wasn't feeling it. There just wasn't any lightheartedness or humor to be found. "Hey," she said, suddenly eager to switch gears. "Where's Cristina going? And why aren't you going with her?"
Callie drew back and didn't say anything. She had been hoping to avoid this topic. It was probably the last thing Arizona needed to think about. Finally, after several beats of silence, she answered. "Lexie's funeral."
Arizona's breath hitched and she felt her stomach flip. The reality that Lexie was dead made her feel sick. She couldn't think of anything to say. "Oh," she croaked.
"I know it's soon," Callie said. "But Meredith kind of threw herself into planning it." Arizona understood. She was all too familiar with coping mechanisms. Sometimes she still couldn't believe how elaborate a memorial her mother had put together for Timothy. "And she wasn't sure when Mark would be able to go. He still has a couple weeks in here."
"Mark already said goodbye," Arizona said quietly. "He wouldn't want to go anyway." Callie nodded, inhaling deeply. "But how come you're not going to go?"
"Because I'm staying with you," Callie replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
That Callie would stay without having been asked warmed Arizona's heart. Truthfully, she wanted her to stay. Even when she wasn't dreaming about the crash – which was a rarity these days, but it happened occasionally – her dreams didn't feel completely safe because Callie wasn't there. But this was Lexie Grey's funeral. There wouldn't be another one. If she were able, Arizona would have been there in a heartbeat. She felt guilty enough that she couldn't be there herself; she wouldn't be the reason Callie wasn't there either.
"That's sweet," Arizona said, "but you should go."
Callie shook her head. "I'm not leaving you, Arizona."
"You're not leaving," Arizona argued. "You're just…going out for a while. It's not the same. I want to go, but I can't, so go for me. Please?" Callie just eyed Arizona warily, even as she fidgeted and picked at her fingernail. "It's Lexie's funeral," Arizona continued in a quieter voice. "This is important. She needs to be honored. We need to remember her."
Callie was being worn down slowly, but she still wasn't completely convinced. She had made a promise to Arizona that she wouldn't ever leave and she had every intention of keeping it.
"If you don't go for me, go for you," Arizona said. "You've barely left this room in the past week. When do you work? When do you see Sofia?" A new wave of guilt crashed down over Arizona as she realized she was what was keeping Callie from her regular life; what was keeping Sofia from her madre.
"I took some personal time," Callie replied. She'd never be able to focus in surgery now anyway, not with the images of Arizona ripped open in front of her so fresh in her mind. "I visit Sofia in daycare every day while you're asleep, and Bailey's been watching her at night."
"Callie," Arizona chided. "You need to take her home. She needs to be in her own house, in her own room. With her own mother." As much as she hated the thought of sleeping alone in this room every night for the next six weeks without Callie next to her, she knew how important stability was for a child. She couldn't take that away from Sofia.
"We'll talk about that later," Callie said.
"After you come back from the funeral," Arizona insisted.
Callie chewed on her bottom lip. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"I'll be fine," Arizona said. "I'll probably end up sleeping the whole time anyway. Please go to the funeral. It's important to me. And I can tell it's important to you."
Arizona had her there. Lexie's funeral was important to her, as much as she'd tried to downplay it. "All right," she finally relented. "I'll go. I'll go, and I will come right back here afterward, okay? And you will call me if you need me, for anything. Even if you're just bored and want company." Arizona just nodded. "I don't remember the last time I won an argument with you," Callie complained good-naturedly.
"That's because you never have." Arizona gave Callie the closest approximation of a smile she could muster.
"Yeah, yeah," Callie grumbled, getting to her feet. She took Arizona's hand again. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"Yes, Calliope," Arizona said, rolling her eyes. She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.
Callie sighed. "Okay. I'll tell them you send your regards."
Arizona gripped Callie's hand tighter, eyes widening. "Tell them she was a brilliant surgeon and an amazing friend," she said. "Tell them she was a beautiful person and that she was brave and honorable and strong. And tell them…tell them I'll always miss her and that I'll tell Sofia about her every day." She swallowed thickly, looking into Callie's eyes. "Please tell them," she said hoarsely. "They need to know, Calliope."
"I'll tell them," Callie assured her. "I will, I promise."
"Okay." Arizona nodded. Then, almost shyly, she asked, "Can I have a kiss goodbye?"
"Arizona, of course." Callie couldn't imagine why Arizona even felt the need to ask. Leaning over, mindful of Arizona's left leg, Callie pressed her lips softly to Arizona's. It was Arizona who deepened the kiss first, sliding her tongue along Callie's upper lip and then across her teeth. For her part, Callie caressed Arizona's tongue with her own and then pulled her bottom lip lightly between her teeth. "Wow," she said, grinning, when they finally broke apart for air.
Arizona didn't smile, but her eyes looked a little brighter. "I love you," Callie said softly. She kissed just to the side of Arizona's mouth. "So much."
Arizona buried her face in Callie's hair, determined to breathe her in before she left. "I love you too," she murmured. "Callie?"
"Hmm?"
"I-" Arizona's breath hitched, but she was determined not to cry this time. "I'm sorry. Callie, I am so, so sorry." She whimpered softly, but was relieved when no tears came.
Callie just shook her head. "Please stop apologizing, Arizona," she said, frowning. "I don't even know what you're sorry for. But you don't need to apologize to me, okay? You have nothing to apologize for."
Arizona closed her eyes. She didn't believe that, not for one second.
"Well," Callie continued, "except…you do kind of smell." She pulled back to smile softly at Arizona. It was so unbelievably hard, she was slowly realizing, to be the constantly supportive, encouraging one, when she felt half the time like she was barely hanging on herself. "I'll help you take a bath when I get back, okay?"
That earned a genuine, if very small, almost imperceptible, smile. "Okay."
The other benefit of having Callie around, Arizona realized, was that she didn't have to be alone with only her thoughts for company. Now, with Callie gone and the door to her room closed, Arizona was surrounded by silence. It was oppressive and unnerving. Even when she was asleep, her dreams had sound. The last time it had been this quiet was after the screaming and crying had died down out in the woods. At the time, Arizona had been sure that only death could be more silent and she'd been sure she would experience that silence soon.
As it turned out, she had been right – not because she was dead, but because she was lying here in this white, silent room.
Close enough.
Arizona found herself wishing she hadn't pushed Callie to go. She couldn't put her finger on why exactly, but her absence filled Arizona with a sense of dread and fear. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to feel Callie's arms around her
Taking a deep breath, she tried to remind herself that it was okay that Callie wasn't here right now and that where she had gone was more important. Of course, that made the awful truth resonate once again.
Lexie Grey was dead.
She died in a plane crash. A fucking plane crash. Arizona didn't know the exact statistics, but she remembered reading somewhere that a person was more likely to die crossing the street than in a plane crash. It was ridiculous.
And yet, here she was. Not only that, but it had only been a year since Arizona had been in a horrifying car accident. A year before that, she'd crossed paths with a gunman on a vengeful rampage. What, like that wasn't enough? She went onto her own wing of her own hospital and almost died. She got into a car and almost died. She got on a plane and almost died. Arizona shuddered and whimpered involuntarily. She wasn't safe anywhere. Everywhere she went, disaster lurked around the corner. The hospital room suddenly felt suffocating and altogether sinister.
Her gut churned with fear, and also with guilt. Lexie was dead while Arizona had been allowed to survive. Why? Why hadn't Gary Clark shot her when he had walked into that examination room? Why hadn't the impact of her car smashing into the truck caused her any serious injuries? Why hadn't she ended up trapped and dying under the wing of the airplane?
Her good leg jiggled impatiently against the hard mattress beneath her.
Arizona thought about calling her but stopped herself, again remembering the importance of Lexie's funeral and Callie's presence there. So, with heightened anxiety, she settled back against her bed and reached for the television remote. At the very least, maybe some ambient noise would help.
She flicked absentmindedly through the channels, finding nothing to watch, although the background noise did make her feel a little calmer. She let her eyelids drift shut. Sleeping was always a great way to kill time. She probably wouldn't sleep deeply; she wasn't particularly tired and she certainly wasn't in the mood for a nightmare, but she was content to doze lightly for an hour…maybe two…
Out in the hallway, a nurse carrying too many charts lost her grip and dropped the top few onto a supply cart. The disturbance sent two metal basins and several bottles of cleaner clattering to the floor. The nurse shouted out in surprise. It was loud even through the closed door of Arizona's room.
Arizona jolted, not quite asleep but not fully awake, either. She heard the metallic clanging and her mind told her it was plane parts breaking apart and hitting the ground. She lay flat on her back, surrounded by trees and chaos and blood. Someone was yelling in the distance. Her head pounded and her leg felt like it was being torn to pieces. Looking down, she could see why: her femur, broken haphazardly in half, stuck out at an angle from the top of her thigh. I'm married to an orthopedic surgeon and I'm staring at my bone. Arizona almost wanted to laugh, but there was too much pain, too much uncertainty. Where was everyone? She choked and coughed, feeling smoke irritate her throat. Part of the plane was on fire. "Help!" she cried out weakly. "Somebody help!" No one answered. She was all alone, nothing around for miles but trees and wreckage.
She had to get out of here. She was going to die here if she didn't. Through the blinding pain, Arizona tried to sit up, but found that she couldn't get any further. Her broken left leg was pinned under something. She gasped when she realized why that was.
There was a car on top of her.
And not just any car. Just underneath where Arizona's femur stuck out of her thigh, the car she had driven into the back of the logging truck last year bore down heavily on her. She could see that the airbag was deployed and the windshield was shattered, but Callie was nowhere to be seen. "Somebody help!" Arizona screamed again, louder this time. There was no response.
Arizona kicked her good leg and threw the top half of her body in any direction she could, desperate to get free. Where was Callie? Arizona wanted her, needed her. She had promised she wouldn't leave, so where was she?
Fear. Desperation. Anguish. Agony. Everything and more was crushing Arizona. All she could do was scream.
"Arizona?" Callie dropped the bag she'd been carrying at the sight of the chaos before her. Arizona's left leg was still tightly secured in its external fixation, but her right leg, along with her arms and upper body, was thrashing violently. A nurse was trying to hold her down while another nurse prepared a shot of a sedative. "Arizona!" Arizona's eyes darted around the room, wide and unseeing.
"No!" Arizona was screaming, louder and more hysterically than Callie had ever heard her. Was this how she had sounded in the woods? "No, no, no! Help! Somebody help! Help me!" She struggled against the nurse's hold. "Help! Help!" Her cries for help dissolved into unintelligible sounds shouted at the top of her lungs.
Callie rushed to Arizona's side, waving off the nurses. "Don't sedate her," she instructed. The nurse with the syringe hesitated, but he put it down. "Arizona," Callie said again, gripping her shoulders. "Arizona, look at me." Arizona's body still jerked, but the screaming gave way to loud whimpering. "It's me, Arizona. It's Callie. You're okay. Look at me, sweetie."
Arizona's flailing slowed, eventually to a stop. "Callie?"
Callie nodded encouragingly. "That's it. I'm right here. Come back to me." The nurses, satisfied that the situation seemed to be under control, left the room.
"You left!" Arizona cried. "You left. You promised you wouldn't!"
Callie closed her eyes. She knew going out was a bad idea. "I'm sorry." She struggled not to cry even as her chest tightened. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left."
"Where did you go?"
Callie's eyes snapped open. What was Arizona talking about? She knew where she'd gone. "What?"
"Where were you?" Callie realized that Arizona was looking at her, but not seeing her. She knew Callie was there, but wherever Arizona was, it wasn't here in the hospital, and it probably hadn't been seven days since the crash.
Callie unsure of what to do. Was she supposed to talk Arizona out of her flashback? Should she go find that nurse with the sedative? Deciding on the first option, she kept a tight hold on Arizona's arms. "Arizona," she said, trying to sound calm. "You're in the hospital. You were in a plane crash last week, but you're okay. Lexie…Lexie died. I went to her funeral. That's where I was, just for a couple hours, but I'm here now. We're here and we're safe."
"Lexie…what?" Arizona heard Callie's words, but they didn't make any sense. The crash had been a week ago? How was that possible? And how had Lexie died? She wasn't even there. What was going on?
Arizona's eyes were frantic. Callie needed to get her calm before she started screaming and thrashing again. "Arizona. Dr. Robbins."
Something in Callie's tone, or maybe being called Doctor, kick-started Arizona's brain. She blinked a few times as her surroundings came into focus. She wasn't in the woods. Her leg was immobilized, but it wasn't pinned under a car. And Callie was here. She'd left for a little while, but she was back. At Arizona's insistence, she'd gone to –
Arizona's face fell as she came fully into the present. The realization of everything that had happened over the past seven days barreled into her, and she remembered it, every detail, all over again.
Callie watched the anguish play across Arizona's face and she felt her own heart break. It hurt her to see Arizona so haunted. When Arizona hurt, she hurt too. She shouldn't have left. She should have been here. "Sweetie…"
Arizona released a wounded, guttural sob as the top half of her body collapsed against Callie. She was sick of crying, but she couldn't help it. The mixture of grief, fear, guilt, and relief was too powerful to control. Callie was here and Arizona needed her – desperately. She wrapped her arms around Callie's shoulders, buried her face into her chest, and cried.
"Oh, baby." Callie sank down onto Arizona's bed next to her good leg. One hand wove into Arizona's hair and rubbed softly at her neck; the other pulled Arizona tightly to her. "Arizona, my sweetheart. It's all right." Callie could barely hear herself over Arizona's sobbing. She swayed gently from side to side, rocking them both. "It's all right. I'm here. I'm here. I've got you." Still Arizona cried bitterly. Callie let out a shaky breath. She would cry later, when Arizona was asleep. "I know," she murmured, lips pressed to the crown of Arizona's head. "I know."
Finally, after what felt a lifetime to both of them, Arizona's desperate sobs faded to hiccupping cries, which in turn faded to whimpers and finally sniffles. "Lexie's gone," she rasped into Callie's chest.
"Yeah," Callie breathed. "She is."
"A week?" Arizona asked, trying to wrap her mind around how much time had passed. "Sev-seven whole days?"
"Yeah, seven days ago," Callie answered gently.
Arizona nodded slowly against her chest, finally understanding in full. "How was the service?"
"Nice," Callie replied. How was one supposed to describe a funeral? "There were a lot of people there. A lot of people are going to remember her."
"Good." A moment of silence passed. "Everyone's gone." Arizona's voice shook.
Callie's hand tightened in Arizona's hair. "What?"
"Lexie. Teddy. Alex. Tim died. Nick's dying. Morgan's baby died. George O'Malley died. Reed and Percy…they died." She took a shuddering breath. "People keep dying around me. Everyone is gone."
"Hey," Callie said softly. "I'm here. Sofia is here. Mark is here. We're all still here. We're not gone and we're not going anywhere." She kissed Arizona's head. "And actually, you're wrong on one count."
"Hmm?"
"Alex is still here."
Arizona lifted her head to study Callie's face. "He is?"
Callie nodded. "Yeah. He decided to stay. He went out with Cristina and Jackson and April after the funeral, but he'll be around tomorrow. I'll let him tell you about it." That got the tiniest bashful hint of a smile from Arizona. Callie managed a wavering one in return, still shaken by the events of the day and the six that had come before it. "Good to know Peds isn't going to fall apart completely while you're gone, huh?"
Arizona just shook her head and peered over Callie's shoulder, noticing the duffel bag on the floor for the first time. "What's in the bag?"
"Oh!" Callie shifted to get up, and Arizona reluctantly loosened her grip. "I stopped at home on my way back. I brought you some things." She opened the bag and Arizona craned her neck to see what was inside. "I thought you might want this." Callie pulled out Arizona's pillow. It didn't fully show on her face, but Arizona felt the first glimmer of real happiness she'd felt all week. Callie saw it. "Here, lean forward." Callie positioned the pillow behind Arizona's shoulders.
Leaning back, Arizona turned and pressed her face into the pillow. It smelled like home. Suddenly overcome with an entirely different kind of emotion, she looked up at Callie, "Thank you," she said earnestly.
Callie just smiled and kept pulling things out of the bag: Arizona's soap. Her shampoo. Her toothbrush, her hairbrush, her blow-dryer. T-shirts so Arizona didn't have to wear a starchy hospital gown for the next six weeks. There was Arizona's iPod, the book she'd been reading, and her reading glasses. And on the table right next to Arizona's bed, Callie placed the item she'd been saving for last: a framed photo of the two of them and Sofia.
Arizona reached out and traced Sofia's face with her finger. She couldn't believe she'd gone seven days without seeing her baby. She missed her so much it gnawed at her heart. But then, a sudden, unwelcome thought tugged at the corners of her mind: Sofia didn't deserve her. She was broken, and she hadn't been a good man in a storm, even if Callie did try to tell her otherwise. She hadn't been able to save Lexie. She couldn't save Tim, she couldn't save baby Tommy and she couldn't save Nick. Sofia deserved so much better.
"Callie?" Arizona's eyes welled with tears again as she murmured her wife's name with such trepidation.
"What is it?" Callie reached for Arizona's hand, but Arizona pulled it back.
"People…" She took a deep breath. "Lexie died. People keep dying around me. The universe keeps…it keeps taking good, innocent people. It keeps taking them away. Why…" A few tears slid down Arizona's cheeks, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. "Why am I still alive?"
Callie just shook her head and leaned over, kissing Arizona's temple. "Because I can't live without you, Arizona," she whispered.
Arizona breathed shakily, tilting her forehead against Callie's. She loved her so much. They were sweet words, even if she didn't totally believe them. Then again, she certainly couldn't live without Callie, so maybe it was true. She didn't know what to believe.
"I'm staying here tonight," Callie declared softly.
Arizona lifted her head. "But –"
Callie shook her head again. "Sofia can stay with Bailey one more night." She sat back down on the bed and ran a hand along Arizona's cheek. "I've left enough for one day, don't you think?"
"I love you," Arizona said. It was the most confident she'd sounded in a while. "I love you so much, Calliope."
"I love you too," Callie murmured, leaning down to give Arizona a kiss. "Thank you for coming back to me." She brushed a piece of hair away from Arizona's face. "I promised you a bath. Shall we?"
"In a minute," Arizona replied. "I just…need you for a little while first."
Callie nodded. "I know the feeling."
Arizona leaned against Callie. Callie reciprocated by wrapping her arms around her. Arizona felt awful – defeated, sad, guilty, angry, lost – but with Callie's arms around her, she at least felt safe.
It was the only thing that worked.
