A\N: Please, continue spreading awareness about what is going on in Palestine, Congo and Sudan at the moment and calling for a permanent and lasting ceasefire. Check out free palestine, free congo and free sudan hashtags on social media and accounts like wizard_bisan1 and azaiazamotaz9 on Instagram and twitter
—
"Have you heard from Kepner?" Alex asked as they were standing at the nurses station, filling charts. Arizona frowned at Millie's. She had been for awhile now.
"Not for a couple of days," muttered Arizona. She remembered it was normal. She'd spent a huge chunk of her life waiting for people to come back from their encounters with death. She didn't like to remember. At all. Maybe Jackson would like to. He would take anything right now to not feel so glaringly scared and lost.
"Have you heard from Meredith?"
"Not for a couple of weeks ," Alex quipped darkly, his finger smashing into the screen as the words left his mouth. Arizona's eyebrows raised silently.
"Anyway, how's your girl?"
"My girl…" Arizona turned the tablet off pensively, rubbing her temples. Alex's eyebrows raised silently. "… is 99% going on the transplant list. And her parents might as well be annulling their marriage in the hospital chapel as we speak, which really doesn't help anyone."
"So I take it I'm putting up that goalpost after all." Alex guessed.
"Thank you."
"At least if she snaps a bone in half-"
"Don't even-" Arizona didn't finish, their pagers going off simultaneously. Giving him a stern look, Arizona took off to the pit, Alex following closely behind.
"What is it?" he asked as Arizona took the chart from the paramedics. A young woman lying on the gurney was obviously confused and scared to death, clutching at her belly with shaking hands.
"Twenty-nine years old female. Fainted on the street. 31 weeks pregnant. Signs of preeclampsia."
"Okay, we've got it."
"Could you tell us your name, please?"
"Je- jessica. Jessica Stonewall," she managed to say, barely audible.
"Hey, Jessica, I'm Dr. Robbins. Please, stay with us, okay? We are going to take care of you, I promise."
"My baby… Is my baby okay?"
"We'll find out," reassured Alex as they entered Trauma 2. "Edwards, on my count. 1…2..3."
"My baby…"
"I know, Jessica. We are going to see in just a moment…" Arizona applied some gel on the ultrasound stick adjusting it and moments later they saw a little boy… with a huge CPAM taking up at least two lobes of his left lung, and obvious hydrops. Arizona's heart dropped, pages with Nicole's faint snarky notes flashing before her eyes.
Her life seemed to be all about remembering these days. Remembering how to wait for something out of her control; how to feel astonishingly useless…
"Jessica, did you know your baby had a cyst in his lung?" asked Alex before she could.
"What? N-no… he-he was fine during my last ultrasound!"
"Such cysts can grow very fast. It's putting a strain on your babies systems and you are mirroring his symptoms. I'm sorry but it appears we'll have to deliver your baby right away, because he's in severe distress." Alex got ahead of Arizona again. She knew what he was doing trying to take this one off her chest. It wasn't working, the fetal surgery steps stubbornly crawling into her mind as she studied the fetal monitor. They needed to move fast.
"B-but he's too little!" They were too little far too often. "And m-my best friend was supposed to be there for me when the baby comes! S-she is out of town!"
"We will call her immediately," assured Stephanie.
"But-"
"Jessica, I'm really sorry but an emergency C-section is our best option here."
It wasn't. It was their only available option. But Arizona couldn't say this out loud. She could however say,
"You and your baby are in good hands, believe me. We will do everything we can to keep you both safe."
Jessica's eyes actually focused on Arizona for the first time and it was not a pleasant feeling. At all. Arizona felt exposed as if Jessica somehow knew she had the exact set of skills necessary to keep her precious little boy in but wouldn't use it for reasons that didn't really matter to her as a mother. Arizona understood that perfectly.
"O-okay." She finally nodded weakly through tears, her bottom lip trembling. "M-my friend, Lily, is at the top of my c-contact list," she added hastily, grabbing Stephanie's hand as Alex unlocked the breaks on her gurney with a click that made Arizona shudder for some reason.
Alex's voice, suddenly interrupting her meticulous, angrier than would fall under the 'healthy', category scrubbing routine did the exact same thing.
"C'mon, don't do this to yourself-"
"Do what?" She asked, her voice and movements equally sharp, droplets of water and soap flying all around. "Say that I'm supposed to be performing a fetal surgery on that baby? It would be too cruel to say that in front of Jessica but now I am saying it."
"You are banned-"
"I'm well aware of that, Alex."
"-from fetal surgery. The Foundation is watching you like a hawk. You are not certified, simple as that. So Clemence will perform the C-section and you are going to assist me in removing the lesions," Alex continued, unfazed. An annoying ability of ending up right. His words reminded Arizona of a conversation they had years ago. Though she wouldn't and couldn't ask him some variation of 'What if it was Sofia?' no matter how much a part of her wanted to.
"Did you reach her friend?" she asked instead, holding Alex's stare as the door behind them let Stephanie in.
"Yes, she will be there as soon as possible."
"Good." Lifting her arms up, Arizona went into the O.R. The O.B was already inside, preparing to get started.
The shrill cry of life didn't come when it was supposed to.
"Apgar is 6," muttered Alex, hands moving deftly, repeating familiar steps.
"He can't withstand surgery." That was clear as day.
"Yeah. Let's get to the NICU."
Seconds later they were on the move, Arizona throwing one last glance behind. Clemence seemed to have everything under control.
She couldn't say the same about herself and Alex.
"He's not oxygenating," Alex said looking up at her. She nodded, answering his silent question. A blade drew blood from thin fragile neck. Soon all the tubes were connected, the ECMO machine buzzing not reassuringly at all.
"I will go check on Jessica." Arizona tugged at her pink gown, wishing she could shed the weight from her heart together with it.
Instead it became even heavier as she returned to the O.R, where the atmosphere had unmistakably shifted. Judging by the fact Clemence certainly was not closing, either Arizona's math was way off or something had gone terribly wrong.
"What happened?" she asked, a mask pressed to her lips.
"Apoplexy," Clemence replied shortly.
"Please, don't tell me you had to-"
"-do a total hysterectomy. Lost quite a lot of blood."
"Damn it."
"How's the baby?"
Arizona didn't reply, shaking her head in disbelief. All of this shouldn't have been happening. She should have been returning the baby into the uterus right about now, safe and sound. Jessica didn't have a uterus anymore. And her baby…
"I'll stay." Alex volunteered as soon as Arizona came back to the NICU. The name plate on the incubator wasn't empty anymore. It said 'Rocky'.
"No." Arizona's tone didn't leave any space for objections. Being true to his stubborn, hovering self, Alex still tried.
"Look, he's my patient-"
His stubbornness clashed with Arizona's raw raging guilt.
"Well, he should've been my patient! They both should have been! So just…" Arizona sat into a chair beside Rocky's incubator, with no intention of giving in. "…go."
In the end he did, displeasure written all over his exit.
In the next three hours, sixteen minutes Arizona did everything she could, which could never be enough.
The baby died without ever being held.
Arizona was in the middle of switching the monitors off, a shin of tears blurring her vision, when Edwards came in, stumbling a bit over what she saw.
"Jessica's friend is here," she said, taking hold of the emotions.
"Coming."
The waiting room was otherwise empty, a woman about Jesssica's age standing up hastily as soon as Arizona came in.
"It's too late, isn't it?" she guessed immediately, somehow feeling the aura of death that had entered the room.
"I'm sorry…?"
"Rachel."
"Rachel. Sadly, the baby was born too weak to withstand a condition as severe as CPAM."
Rachel nodded, still taking the news in.
"I was supposed to be the godmother," she said quietly to no one in particular, wringing her hands helplessly.
"I…"
"I should be with Jessica when she wakes up." Rachel looked at Arizona almost pleadingly. That wasn't really necessary.
"Of course. I will take you to her room."
"I thought you don't let non-family members in…"
"You were supposed to be the godmother," Arizona said simply, motioning for her to follow. Up in the ICU she stayed back, watching as Rachel took her post at the head of Jessica's bed, gently pushing a few strands of hair back from her forehead.
It felt like she'd been standing there for an eternity when suddenly a foreign sound emerged from somewhere close. Belatedly Arizona realized it was her phone demanding some attention.
"Yes?"
"Hi! I'm calling about the cake you ordered…"
Right. The cake she ordered for her kid's upcoming birthday. Pressing her fingers into the bridge of her nose, Arizona turned away from the glass respectfully.
Sofia's favourite colour clarified, Arizona slipped into the nearest restroom, a splash of ice cold water clearing the fog off her mind a bit. Her shift was exactly an hour away from being over which still seemed too far away. Millie still needed to be rounded on.
Her unsolicited sleep was guarded by both her parents, dozed off in identical chairs on either side of her hospital bed. Arizona had already forgotten when was the last time she saw the pair so quiet. A dying kid could really put a strain on a marriage. She had watched it happen too many times before. Fear had a thing for bringing out the worst in people, dragging to the surface what they would never normally do or say.
And the Reids had every reason to be scared out of their minds. Their baby girl who came to the hospital with one type of pneumonia was running the risk of developing a different one from being on the ventilator. Life worked in cruel ways.
"Just hold on, sweetie," whispered Arizona on her way out. "They are going to call."
—
The sky blue cake was sitting in the fridge, patiently waiting till Sofia would get bored of running around in the backyard with Alex and a soccer ball.
She didn't change her mind. There was no party. There was… celebratory breakfast with Alex, Jo, and pancakes drowned in syrup. And presents, of course, scattered all over the living room, the goalpost being the most captivating for the time being.
For the first time in days Arizona felt something resembling peace as she watched her daughter squeal with robust joy after scoring her third goal of the match.
The view almost erased the remnants of the previous night's horrors from her mind.
She was standing in the NICU, only one incubator of the usual twenty seven present in a pool of fluorescent light. There was a baby inside and Arizona had one clear goal – to hold it. But every time she was a hairbreadth away she inevitably ended up on the floor, her left leg non-existent in the nightmare, yet scorching pain very much existent back in reality.
The coffins were familiar at least, predictable.
Sofia easily stole the ball from Alex and Arizona was getting ready to cheer once again, when her phone rang, Jackson's name lighting up on the screen.
"Well done, Sof!" She cheered on before disappearing into the house to take the call.
"Hey, Jackson. What's up? Is it…"
"Hey. No, April is… fine. At least she was the last time I..." Arizona waited patiently as he collected himself back together with great effort. "I just… wanted to give you a heads up. The Foundation representatives want to meet at Grey Sloan next Tuesday."
"Um… wow." Arizona frowned, trying to rub the pain, persistently buzzing in her leg like an annoying fly, away. "Do you thinlk…?"
"Yeah. There's a decision."
The word she'd been dreaming of hearing for the last two months, went through the speaker, travelling right into Arizona's leg in a wave of burning pain, intensified tenfold. The fly turned into a swarm of killer wasps.
"Ouch!" she hissed, covering the speaker hastily.
"You okay?" Jackson asked, muffled.
"I… yeah, thank you for the heads up."
"Of course. I hope-"
The rest of the phrase got lost, Arizona's phone landing on the counter, the raging agony taking over her mind completely. She didn't even dare to try and take even half a step forward, fingers white against the counter. Unclenched forcefully they found a knife on the drying rack almost on their own accord.
The relief was immediate, the vision of a blade stuck in her shoe calming Arizona's racing heart, the pain retreating, stabbed away.
"Alex forfeited. So cake time-"
Just like that Arizona's pulse shot up again at the sight of Callie frozen at the door.
"Well, this isn't a cake knife," she said in a casual tone, nothing betraying her panicked state. The cake one wouldn't have left even a tiny scratch with its flat end.
"What-"
"I need to change shoes." Calmly returning the knife to the rack, Arizona limped forward carefully under Callie's unwavering stare. Shocked, she forgot to step aside, the doorframe too narrow for them to not hold their breath for a moment, hands almost touching.
For some reason Arizona had no doubt if they did, that kind of pain could easily suppress the phantom limb one. The knife would have to go hilt deep into her heart, not her shoe.
The ruined showear off, she went right back outside, winking at Sofia, who was now sitting contentedly on Jo's lap.
"So what type of cake did the birthday girl choose?" Asked Alex.
"Carrot!" Sofia beamed excitedly.
Alex half snorted, half coughed, warranting a murderous look from Jo and a discreet shove from Arizona.
"Delicious! And pretty, too." He was the first one to notice Callie's return. "Happy birthday…
"…. dear Sofia, happy birthday to you!" the others picked up.
"Alright, goose, time to make a wish!" said Callie a verse later. Sofia already leaned forward, Jo holding her gently just in case ready to blow the candles. Reminded about the wish, she paused to think for a second. A resolute nod moments later indicated a decision had been made. Cheeks puffed adorably, she blew the candles in a few tries, the adults clapping supportively.
"Congrats on yours being the only kid in the world to love carrot cake," Alex muttered to Arizona with a smirk as Callie passed everyone's plates back to them.
"Can we save Zola a piece?"
Whatever Arizona wanted to say to Alex, disappeared completely from her mind.
"Of course, sweetie," she spoke, being the first one to recover from the light shock. Alex coughed for real that time. The verbal confirmation apparently wasn't enough for Sofia as she kept looking between her mothers a little worried, as if the rest of the cake would suddenly disappear and there won't be enough left for her friend.
"I'll get another plate." Following through with Arizona's promise, Callie went to the kitchen, the blonde in the meantime trying not to think about how the carrot biscuit will most likely turn all dry and repeat the fate of Alex's moldy bread and about the fact that Callie probably got up so quickly only for her to not have to walk more than was absolutely necessary.
—
Callie managed to keep her opinion to herself for exactly 24 hours, staying true to the habit of speaking over Arizona. The opinion, revealed in an elevator, of course, was that she needed to deal with the phantom limb.
"For Sofia's sake, obviously. Why are you… laughing?"
"Oh, no reason. There's nothing funny about it. Just… thank you for letting me get a word in. You know, about my phantom limb pain. Oh, wait… you actually didn't."
The problem was she didn't even think Callie was wrong. The nightmares have turned into somewhat of a constant thing ever since Alex's confession and that wasn't something she could work with. That wasn't something she could be a good mother with. That wasn't something she could live with.
There were mirrors and non-cake knifes, and tsunami-size waves, as it turned out all united by being only a temporary fix. And if Arizona had learned something once and for all that year, those never really worked.
With that in mind she found herself fidgeting uncomfortably opposite Dr. Gretchen Coleman.
"Do you think there's something specific that usually triggers the pain?"
"Nightmares."
"Elaborate, please."
Ugh, right she had to actually talk.
"I have a nightmare. I wake up and it's there. The pain."
"Has the pattern always been like that?"
"At first I'd have a nightmare about… I don't know, cutting off my own leg or something like that and wake up already in pain. Then something changed and for a while the leg stopped hurting even after such dreams. But recently it has all come back. Both the nightmares and the pain."
"So what do you think triggered the circle to start again? What in your opinion could be the cause of your nightmares?"
Arizona wondered if Gretchen could read in her expression she was triggered by the word 'trigger' and therapists in general?
She rolled her shoulders, searching for the right words. "I'm always anxious or worried, I guess. Before a night like that, I mean."
"Have you been more anxious lately?"
"You could say that."
"Hm?"
"Well… for years I thought it was my wife who cut off my leg. But turned out it wasn't."
"Does your wife know-"
"Ex-wife," Arizona corrected herself, prompting Gretchen to make a note. "She does. For obvious reasons we haven't talked about it."
"Alright. Anything else you think could be worthy of sharing?"
"My mentor died unexpectedly and now everything she thought me, months, even years worth of time and effort depends on a bunch of people who never even knew her." Unconsciously Arizona leaned forward in her chair, Gretchen taking notice, of course.
"You said unexpectedly. What exactly happened?"
"She arrested while in recovery from brain tumour surgery. They got her back but it was too late."
"Did she have the tumor the whole time she was mentoring you?"
"For her it was actually the whole point."
"Excuse me?"
"I hate the phrase, but passing the knowledge to me because she thought the tumor was inoperable."
"Why do you hate the phrase?"
"Because… it was so much more…" Arizona took a deep, grounding breath. "She deserved to live. Simple as that."
"You said she thought the tumor was inoperable. But it wasn't?"
"No. Amelia… our neurosurgeon managed to resect it."
"How did Amelia find out?" Gretchen seemed to already know the answer.
"Me." Something that probably was supposed to be the most dry, humorless chuckle turned Arizona's expression into a painful grimace. "Anyway… after the surgery Nicole went blind. And then, the day she was supposed to get discharged…"
"And now your qualification has been put into question and there's no point?" Gretchen tapped the end of her pen against the clipboard.
"Basically."
"What if the verdict is not in your favour?" Maybe Arizona was seeing things but the woman looked almost satisfied with catching her off guard, her shrewd green eyes sparkling behind the massive glasses.
Has Arizona considered the possibility? Countless times. Awake. Asleep. In between. Did she have a plan for if it turned into her inevitable reality? No.
That became all the more painfully clear when a woman with a ponytail so tight it was a miracle her face hadn't crumbled yet, said in the most monotonous, indifferent voice possible, quote,
"We regret to inform you that from this day forward your fetal surgeon license is permanently revoked."
—
A little bit ahead in terms of chapters on AO3: /works/49609279/chapters/125210338
comments are more than welcome and greatly appreciated!