"Okay, we're leaving in five minutes, so hustle!" Callie called through the house as she finished applying her mascara. Arizona had been paged to the hospital earlier that morning, leaving Callie tasked with getting Riley and Sofia to school by herself that morning. Sealing her mascara and tossing it back onto her bathroom counter, she made her way to the living room, grabbing her purse and tossing things into it on her way there.

Just then, she felt her purse vibrating, and she reached in and grabbed her cell phone from the outside compartment. Looking at the caller ID, she realized it was Riley's social worker and picked up immediately, "Hello, this is Callie Torres."

"Callie, this is Erin. How are you doing this morning?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked warmly. Callie sighed, "I'm okay. We're kind of about to run out the door." Erin responded politely, "Well, if I've caught you at a bad time…"

Callie peaked into Sofia's room, and saw her daughter was still dressed in pajama bottoms. "I have a few minutes. What's up?" Callie answered, making her way back into her bedroom and closing the door for privacy. Erin continued, "I wanted to first check in and see how Riley was doing, with the death of her father." Callie exhaled slowly, shaking her head though she knew Erin couldn't see, "I don't know. She's been having a hard time, you know?" Erin murmured sympathetically, "I can imagine. And you and Arizona?"

After a moment's hesitation, Callie responded vaguely, "We're doing the best we can with it." She didn't want to elaborate too much. Erin responded quickly, "Oh, I'm sure. It must be difficult for all of you." Callie laughed humorlessly, "Yeah, you could say that."

"So, I was actually calling because you and Arizona had originally agreed to take Riley as a temporary placement. It was an emergency placement at the time and I know you had requested that we actively search for other options," Erin summarized calmly. Callie paused, sensing where the conversation might be heading, "Yes, that was correct at the time."

"Is it not how you feel any longer?" Erin asked neutrally. Callie responded quickly, "We haven't discussed it. Especially with Riley's father—"

"Of course. I just wanted to let you know that another placement family has become available, if you would still like her moved from you home. We obviously want what's best for Riley. In spite of everything, she seems comfortable in your home and if you've reconsidered making this a more permanent placement, maybe even considered adoption, that's an option we'd like you to have," Erin explained calmly.

Callie sat silently on the other end of the phone, taking in everything Erin was saying. She knew this day would come, when she would have to address this with Arizona, but she thought she'd have more time. After a few moments, Erin continued, "You and Arizona should talk about this and call me back with your decision. Ideally, sooner rather than later."

"Mami, we're ready!" Sofia called from the hallway, annoyance tinting her voice. Callie shook herself from her anxious thoughts, "Yes, of course. We'll talk it over and let you know."

Hanging up the phone, Callie left her room and went to meet Sofia and Riley where they were waiting in the living room. "Who were you talking too?" Sofia asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and impatience.

"Consult," Callie lied swiftly. "Now let's go before you're late for school," Callie stated frantically, ushering the two girls out the door and into the car.

"How often are you gonna check that?" Amelia asked Arizona, walking into the Chief Resident's office and hopping onto the couch, kicking her feet up on the far leg. Arizona didn't look up to acknowledge her, only mumbled, "You know, this is the chief resident's office. It says so on the door. It's not just a second break room." She said this practically every day, but Amelia always ignored her—she knew Arizona liked having her around. Especially since her brother had died four months ago, Arizona threw every spare minute she had into her work, and Amelia liked to check up on her, make sure she was eating and talked to a friend at least a couple minutes a day.

"Ugh, why is it taking so long to load?" Arizona groaned in frustration, waiting for the webpage to refresh again. She had taken her boards a couple of days ago and the results were due to be posted today. She hated the waiting—it was tortuous.

Amelia sighed from her space on the couch, "I don't know why you're worried. I'm sure you passed. You're the best surgical resident at Hopkins, of all places—"

"You know I've been off my game, since…" Arizona let the sentence linger, there was no need to finish it. Amelia knew she meant "since Timothy died." Amelia shrugged sympathetically, trying to offer words of encouragement, "Maybe. But even off your game, you're still one of the best, and you know—"

"Oh my god!" Arizona cried out, throwing her hands to her mouth and jumping up from the desk. Amelia leapt up to her side, "What? What is it?" Turning to her friend and beaming, Arizona exclaimed, "I passed!"

Amelia pumped her fist in the air, "Yes! See, I knew it!" She immediately pulled Arizona into a tight hug, which the normally closed off resident usually resisted, but today, she gratefully accepted the gesture, clinging back with glee, "I can't believe it."

"Seriously?" Amelia muttered incredulously, causing Arizona to shake her head, "No, I just mean… I'm a surgeon!" She continued to cling to Amelia, until Amelia felt her beginning to tremble beneath her. Pulling away, Amelia saw tears streaming down Arizona's face. Her expression immediately clouding with concern, Amelia asked, "Arizona?"

"Sorry," muttered Arizona, hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks. "It's just…" her face crumpled into a sob as she continued, "I'm a surgeon. I've been waiting and working toward this day for so long, and…he should be here."

Feeling tears fill her own eyes, Amelia instantly pulled Arizona back toward her, feeling her sob against her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Arizona," she whispered, rubbing her back gently, "He should be here."

Entering the on-call room after getting a 9-1-1 page from Callie, Arizona turned to to where her wife was waiting for her, eyes filled with concern. "What is it? What happened?" Arizona asked somewhat frantically, walking up to Callie. Her wife gestured to the door, "Lock it." Raising her eyebrows, a hesitant smile crossed Arizona's face, "Wait, so you want to…" she played with the edge of her scrub top seductively. Callie paused for a moment, waiting for Arizona to continue, confusion apparent on her face. At once, realization hit her and she blushed awkwardly, "Oh, no. Not now."

Arizona instantly clasped her hands together sheepishly, looking toward the ground and Callie clarified softly, "No, I mean, I would love to. God knows we're overdue with everything going on. And you look…" She shook her head, continuing, "But I need to talk to you." Arizona nodded, clicking the lock on the door before bringing her eyes up to meet her wife's and waiting for Callie to continue.

Working to keep her voice calm and neutral as she delivered the information, Callie began, "Riley's social worker called me this morning." Arizona's eyes widened, clearly concerned by that information as she waited impatiently for Callie to continue. "And?" she asked pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest while Callie struggled to figure out how to address the next part. "Callie, please just spit it out. You're starting to scare me."

"Sorry, sorry. She said that …. If we were still interested, she has found another placement for Riley," Callie blurted out in a hurry, the words stumbling from her mouth in a rush. Arizona closed her eyes, shaking her head, "And what did you say to her?"

Callie inhaled slowly, "I said that we would talk about it. Which is why I called you in here." Biting her lip, Arizona looked up at Callie in disbelief, "You're actually considering it? Sending her away just a month after her father died? Callie, we're all she has, we can't just abandon her—"

"I'm not saying we would abandon her," Callie clarified calmly, "But Erin implied that if we aren't planning on making this permanent, it would be better to move her sooner rather than later. Which makes sense." Callie tried to stay calm; she had expected this reaction from Arizona, but it didn't make it any easier.

Arizona seemed at a loss for words, staring up at the ceiling, "I didn't realize you were still considering not making it permanent." She looked at Callie, tears hovering at the edge of her eyes, "Callie, she's ours, she's a part of our family—"

"And you just decided this?" Callie scoffed incredulously, feeling her own frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, "Arizona when you just hijacked our lives—"

"Hijacked our lives? Really Callie?" Arizona bit back, but Callie talked over her, "We said that it wasn't permanent when we took her in, and once again, you seem to have changed your mind for both of us."

Arizona threw up her hands in frustration, "I thought we were on the same page!"

"You can't just assume that, Arizona! You have to talk to me!" Callie shot back, her hands resting firmly on her hips.

"Fine," stated Arizona, presenting her hands out in front of her, "I want to adopt her." She stopped, letting the words hang out there. It had been building for weeks inside of her, and they both knew it, but now it was out in the open for both them to see. Inhaling deeply, as if the confession had left her winded, she looked up at Callie, crossing her arms protectively over her chest, firmly but softly posing her next question, "What do you want?"

Callie looked away, staring at a spot on the corner as she pondered. She looked to Arizona, pleading with her to understand, "I don't know," she whispered apologetically.

Shivering at her wife's whispered admission, Arizona looked at her pleadingly, "What don't you know? Why don't you know?"

Callie drew in a shaky breath as she gathered her thoughts, trying figure out the best way to articulate the mess in her brain, "It's not that I don't care about her, or that I don't like her. It's just, it's a lot. We're talking about adopting a child, Arizona, and a child with special needs—"

Arizona's eyes widened with horror, "It's really about the wheelchair? It's because she's disabled?" Callie shook her head firmly, trying to backpedal her response, "No, it's not the wheelchair. It's just one potential issue—"

"I don't see why her disability should be an issue at all," Arizona responded firmly, but Callie shrugged, "It's not, but it is a factor we should consider."

"Callie, I am disabled. Am I less worthy of love?" Arizona demanded with eyes filled with rage and hurt. Callie groaned in desperate frustration, "Arizona, no. You know that is not what I'm saying—"

"Then what are you saying, Callie? Because that's what it feels like you're saying—"

"I'm just saying that it could be difficult. I mean, you can't help her without your prosthesis on—"

Arizona scoffed, "Oh, so now I'm incapable of taking care of my children?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying!" Callie insisted desperately, tears of frustration beginning to form in her eyes. She was saying this all wrong, and this conversation was quickly spiraling in a direction she had never intended. "Look, forget the wheelchair. It's not really about that—"

"Well, it seems like it is. It was the first thing you mentioned," Arizona stated bitterly, causing Callie to throw up her hands, "I'm just worried that maybe she's the not the best fit for our family right now. She's barely even speaking to me or Sofia at the moment—"

"She's grieving—"

"Yes, I know that but what if we're not the right people—"

"I love her, Callie!" Arizona cried, tears streaming down her face, "I love her so much."

They stood staring at each other for a brief moment until they were interrupted by a harsh beep from Arizona's pager. Looking down at the page, she mumbled, "9-1-1 in the PICU. I've got to go." Hastily wiping the tears from her eyes, she rushed from the on-call room, slamming the door behind her and leaving Callie standing in shock. She buried her head in her hands and let her own tears fall, unsure of how to fix their situation.