Believe it or not, we are reaching the end of this story. I am not sure how many chapters are left, but I would guess between 3-4. They may be coming out a little more sporadically the next two weeks or so; I am still writing in some final edits. Thanks again for all of the supportive comments :)

xxxxx

"Arizona, this is Dr. Stephens. I assume you two have crossed paths at some point while you were a scribe here. I want you to follow her around today. She will supervise you on some small tasks. We have a very busy day today. I have four mothers actively laboring and a full day of surgeries scheduled on top of that" As if on cue, Addison's pager went off.

"And apparently a 911 ectopic pregnancy I need to scrub in on. I will catch you two later" Addison said, rushing off to surgery. What the hell was I doing here? I really hadn't planned on coming at all, until I woke up this morning to the same nightmare of Tim I always had. Only this time, instead of watching him clutch the steering wheel while blood poured out of his mouth, he was inside of my destroyed car, gasping for air, holding a baby. The baby couldn't have been more than a few days old and incredibly, he or she looked unharmed despite the destruction of everything around it. It was the first time in weeks that I had woken up with an emotion besides fear and pain. I woke up instead, with just the tiniest bit of hope. However small that amount, it got me to the hospital today.

"Arizona, I am going to round on three of the patients in active labor. You can take this one. I already checked her cervix; all I need you to do is make sure she is still refusing the epidural and that she and the baby have a heart beat. Can you do that for me?" It sounded simple enough.

"Sure"

"Great. Page me if you have any questions. Anything at all. Your patient is in room 2301" Dr. Stephens said, walking away from me. OBGYNs were always in a hurry; probably because their schedules revolved around moms, who could labor from one hour to thirty hours.

Walking towards room 2301, I was unexpectedly nervous. I had seen hundreds of patients, countless procedures and even a few dozen life or death scenarios. But never before had I been in the role of a doctor. Thought I knew I had no true responsibility, just the idea of encompassing all that a physician must be was overwhelming. I had to be focuses, yet aware of my surroundings. I had to be thoughtful, yet logical. I had to be professional, yet warm and caring. How was I supposed to encompass all of those things as a first year medical student? I prayed that my patient would go easy on me. More importantly, I hoped she would be unaware of my incompetence.

As I rounded the corner towards my patient's room, I heard the unfamiliar sounds of laboring moms. Moaning, groaning, the occasional scream. Callie and I had rarely worked in this area of the hospital; labor and deliver was much the opposite of orthopedics. Yet I swore, I heard the faintest sound of her voice speaking in Spanish. I stopped dead in the hallway, amidst the hustle and bustle of the labor and delivery staff and anxious family members. No, it couldn't be 40 weeks already. Could it have? No. Not possible.

But she was here, I knew she was. Her voice, however faint, I could recognize from anywhere. Room 2301 was just to my left. Was she inside? I cracked the door open. I took a deep breath and straightened my white coat. It couldn't be her. No. I wasn't ready for Callie to be someone's mom yet. It was too soon for us, we weren't ready. I wasn't ready. I just lost Tim. We had just slept together. We hadn't had time to figure us out yet. No, Callie was not behind this door.

But of course, I opened 2301 to find Callie. She was standing hunched over the bed railing, speaking quiet Spanish profanities. An ever so small smile grew across my face for the first time in weeks. Even in labor, she was still the spitfire Latina I had fallen in love with.

"Can I help you?" Owen said abrasively, standing up from this chair in the corner of the room. I hadn't even noticed he was there when I had first entered the room. To no ones surprise, he looked extremely annoyed at my presence.

"I...I am here for Dr. Montgomery. I am her intern today" I said meekly. He tilted his head to the side.

"Really? Because from what I heard, you dropped out of medical school" Owen said accusingly.

"Well...I am still figuring things out" I said.

"What did she send you for? Vitals and epidural status? Because I can tell you those right now. Both vitals are stable. Fetal heart rates is hovering around 150. And Callie does not want an epidural" Owen said, walking closer to me. Never had Dr. Hunt gotten in my face before, but now, I could physically feel his anger towards me. I felt like was invading his territory.

"Great...thanks. Callie...?" I said, looking towards her for confirmation that what he had told me was true. From the looks on the monitor, she was mid contraction and in a great deal of pain. Subconsciously, I looked away from Owen and took a step towards her.

"Can I talk to you outside?" He asked, already walking out the door. I looked to Callie, her eyes pleaded for my forgiveness. She looked so helpless. I desperately wanted to stay with her, hold her hand, get her through this. How dare he do this now, when Callie needed his support.

"Coming? He asked, standing in the doorway. I gave a slight nod and stepped outside of the room.

"I want you to stay the hell away from us today. This is about me, Callie and our baby. NOT you. You have done enough damage. You already broke up my marriage, the last thing I need is you intruding on my family" Owen said quietly but firmly to me. Three weeks ago, before Tim had died, I probably would have nodded and walked away. But now, I was not in the mood to take anyone's shit, especially when Callie was involved. Never again would I remain passive towards the people I loved.

"Look, I am here on behalf of Dr. Montgomery. I did not choose to be her intern today. However, if I had known Callie was in labor, you better believe I would be here, for her. And for the record, I did not break up anyone's marriage. You did that all on your own" I spat back at him, trying to calm my wavering temper. He looked at me in disbelief.

"You think you have this all figured out don't you? You think you can just waltz in here and be the hero that Callie needs? You think you love her? Ha! You know what, none of this has been easy but I love that baby! I love my family!" He yelled at me.

"BUT YOU DON'T LOVE HER!" Something snapped within me, a branch that had finally broken under months of holding up through the winds of change and sorrow.

"The only reason you are here by her side now is because your child is involved. She is MORE than an incubator for your child!" I said, the anger falling right off my lips.

"No...no you didn't love her. You just didn't want to feel alone while you were at war. Maybe you liked the bullshit fantasy of white picket fenced houses with kids playing in the yard. Or maybe...maybe she was good for your ego because she's beautiful and smart and everything anyone could ever want. Or...maybe she made you feel better about your MISERABLE life. But you didn't love her. Because you don't destroy the people you love!" I screamed at him. Owen looked at me curiously and when I refused to break his gaze, he hung his head and stepped back into the room before I could take a step inside.

From the window, I saw Owen approach Callie and try to rest his hand on her lower back. She instantly pushed him away and broke down in tears, screaming words at him that I couldn't hear. Undoubtedly, she had heard our conversation. Owen sat down in a chair behind her, defeated. She shouldn't be alone through this. This wasn't right. In some capacity, she needed me. I needed to be there for her.

"Arizona! Great, I finally found you. There is a mom in active labor in room 2341. Do you want to see your first delivery?" Dr. Stephens asked as she approached me from behind. With no other options, I nodded in agreement reluctantly and followed in step behind her. The image of Callie in labor, alone, weighed on me, with every step I took.