Is This Fixable? (3/5)
Title: Is This Fixable? (3/5)
Author: Chwitchety
Rating: M
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: I dont own it or profit from it, I just love it.
Summary: Arizona cant believe what just happened. Why are they even in this situation?
A/N: So here is AZ POV. I really hope it flows and makes sense and I am specifically writing to all you team AZs out there (yes you Funkyshaz). So if I have messed it, let me know. Also I really want to try finish this before Thursday night, cos I know Thursday will be a game changer. So I'm trying.
A/N2: Also if you are looking for goodfic, try fictitiouschick on livejournal/fanfiction.net and googooplex100 on fanfiction.net. Seriously.
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~ If you forget me ~
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
~ Pablo Neruda ~
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Arizona sat stunned in her chair.
She couldn’t believe what she had just said.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
This was not how she had envisaged things going.
This was not the tearful, forgiving reunion she had optimistically and unrealistically planned for. Everything had gone to -
“Fuck.”
She tore her eyes away from the door that Callie had just left through, to stare at the chair she had been so recently sitting in. She placed her hand over the padded seat. It was still warm.
Her hand tingled.
Worst of all - worst of all - Callie had confirmed all of her fears that she was sleeping with Mark. Arizona had suspected, but hoped fervently to be told otherwise. Her heart had sunk to bottomless depths when Callie’s eyes had glinted at her gamble, somber retort at her lips. She had felt utterly nauseous at the thought of them, at her triumph at succeeding in getting a rise from her ex, and at the bleak affect Callie displayed throughout the exchange. When Teddy had informed her that Callie had moved in with Mark, Arizona had desperately fought the idea that Callie would take the extra step. She had been down that road so many times before; after George, after Erica.
After Arizona, now.
Wincing slightly, Arizona withdrew her hand from the chair and placed it gently against her cheek.
Arizona could see that Callie knew that ‘Mark’ was not moving on. Sleeping with Mark, though it might have been familiar, was ridiculously immature and self-indulgent. Frankly, it was outright self-destructive and obvious. And yet, Arizona felt the small flame of hope inside her flicker mutinously. Even though her brain was interpreting Callie’s behaviour logically, her heart could not.
This was it. She had turned Callie straight.
Callie was back on men, now. There was no fucking way that Arizona would ever be able to get close to her again. Callie would finally leave or kill Mark, the only two real options in their current situation, and would find some hunky footballer. Footballers were always breaking their legs. And they’d end up married and then they’d be pregnant within the year and have the kids that Arizona had wanted to have with Callie. His name would be Mike, probably, and they’d have three gorgeous children that all had Callie’s big brown eyes and infectious grin and Arizona would never…
Stop.
Dropping her hand from her face, Arizona pushed down the accumulating thoughts. She was smarter than this.
She had to think smart.
Focused.
Callie’s dismal, somber aura had been in stark contrast to her small oasis of beauty in the grey room. The shorter hair suited her, her caramel skin looked softer than Arizona could remember - and her lips. Callie’s lips, so lush and pliant, had fallen into their familiar moue as Arizona had spoken to her and had made it that much more difficult to concentrate. Her pain and hurt had shone through, nevertheless. Callie’s lack of any real fight and how easily she had driven her away worried Arizona. Teddy had tried to indirectly inform her of Callie’s psyche, but Arizona had avoided her at the time.
Now she could see.
Callie was fading.
And Arizona was worried.
Arizona was someone who, when faced with a situation, would find a way to fix it. This was not a situation easily fixed. Her whole life she had learnt how to be in control; through her navy brat upbringing, through her medical training, through dealing with dying children day in, day out. Callie was a wild card. Callie made her out of control, which was both dangerous and enthralling at the same time. And now Callie was floundering and it broke Arizona’s heart that little bit more.
In any case, the one thing that was obvious from the entire encounter, and kept Arizona’s hope alight, was that Callie was not over her at all. Not one bit. The fire and passion had been dulled by her initial calm and abject demeanour, but Arizona had seen it, sensed it. Even as the parting shot had left her lips, Arizona had felt their ever-present connection reawaken in her soul with muted roar.
The same connection she had felt every minute of every day for the three full months she had been in Malawi.
Going to Africa had not been a choice for Arizona. The call had come and she had been ecstatic, right up until the subdued reaction from Callie. She had been congratulatory, but all too quick to look at Arizona in that way that she had that implied Arizona was some kind of insensitive imbecile and say “You’re not going though, right?”
And ever so thusly, the bubble burst and she had suddenly realized where the conversation was taking a turn to, defenses riled.
“Callie, I have to go.”
Callie had fretted and fought and fawned over her in equal measures as Arizona’s decision remained solid. A disbelieving anger grew steadily within her as the, “but me, me, me,” chorus rallied as the days till her departure counted down. This was the Carter-Madison Grant, for Pete’s sake. It was meant to be the pinnacle of her career, the unlimited funds opportunity of a life-time to actually make a difference. Tiny coffins haunted her sleep occasionally, but always they belonged to the children who had very little choice, who were barely given a chance at life before they left it. These children in Africa were dying from diarrhoea. Diarrhoea. Let alone a simple case of appendicitis.
Arizona wasn’t trying to make a missionary, Oprah statement. This was quite simply Arizona’s dream. Whether it was in Africa or Timbuktu, Arizona wanted to give an opportunity to those in life who could easily be saved. Somewhere where she could really make the most of her hard learned knowledge.
And Callie couldn’t see that. She only saw herself. Better yet, she had decided to accuse Arizona of not admitting that she was backing out of her promise to have a family with her. The sheer audacity of the statement had stung Arizona and she had given Callie a disparaging look before locking herself in the bathroom to take a shower.
“Callie, that’s ridiculous and you know it.”
Arizona did want children with Callie. It wasn’t even something that she had to ‘come round to’ anymore. It was a simple fact for the future. She refused to admit the tiny ounce of relief she felt that the grant was for three years, which helped to cement her resolve to go. She wanted kids - she did, just not now. Callie had half given her a heart attack the way she flit about Arizona when all she wanted to for Arizona to move in. The way Callie loved, Arizona was all but ready for her to start flitting around about the next ‘big step’.
When Callie had turned around and agreed to go with her, Arizona could not have been happier. The small tug of doubt she felt at the resolution had developed into full-blown apprehension as Callie’s barbed comments ripped at her heart and systematically defused her joy. The anger she felt at Callie’s actions had slowly subsided into a rippling sadness. As the dates came closer, Arizona began to realize that, nope, Callie was never going to Africa, nor - whether intentionally or not - had she ever intended to. It had hit her fully when Mark and Lexie had thrown the pathetically sweet going away party and her girlfriend had been so determinedly unpleasant. Arizona had left quickly under guise of a likely excuse before her emotion got the best of her. She had found her way into an empty on-call room to cry for a good ten minutes before heading home, heavy with the knowledge that she had a decision to make.
If Callie came with her, Callie would destroy them.
If she left Callie, Callie would be destroyed.
If Arizona stayed because of Callie, well, that wasn’t an option either.
It was hardly healthy the way Callie was so passive-aggressively needy of her. Arizona wanted to be in a relationship were each party buoyed the other up, not dragged the other down.
It had been the hardest thing she had to do, walking away from Callie, but Arizona knew in her heart of hearts that this was the only option she had. The devastation she knew she had left behind broke her heart completely, but sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind and Arizona was giving the gift of anger to Callie. Anger that could help bring her back out of the hollow of desertion. If she were to be understanding or kind, Callie would cling and pine after her in hope. No, Arizona’s job was to walk the fine line between the potentially destroying ‘mean’ and the resentment-inducing ‘harsh’, and give Callie the gift of anger. The gift of a clean break.
The phone calls and messages, emails and contact attempts had been an excruciating burden for Arizona. Callie had been pleading, angry and outright sobbing when she listened to her voice mail. Whenever her mobile rang with the familiar tone, her heart would stop slightly every time, thinking of what Callie might be doing, where she was.
She couldn’t answer though. Arizona knew Callie too well. The slightest indication that Arizona was open to contacting her, speaking with her, would start the cogwheels in Callie’s brain and reopen fresh wounds. Callie’s undaunted love would pine after her with the slightest encouragement for three entire years until Arizona returned and they would find each other again, by then two different people, holding no small resentment from either side at what each put the other through.
So Arizona didn’t answer. And it broke her heart a million times a day.
She threw herself into the work, and plenty there was of it too. The surgical ward alone held up to 60 children. Infection was rife and Arizona was pleased that at by the end of one month she had managed to install satisfactory health and hygiene regulations upon the wards.
She had wanted to tell Callie.
There was a difficulty with language barriers, but while Arizona had started to pick up key words, the hospital had supplied her with a translator. Friendly and enthusiastic, Mary had been invaluable to Arizona’s work and had often become indispensable in her personal adjustment to the culture shock.
Arizona had been working for two months, when Mbizi arrived.
Five years old, Mbizi had recently become an orphan after his only surviving parent, his mother, had died with AIDS. Admitted to the surgical ward with a simple appendicitis, Arizona was not surprised to find Mbizi to be HIV positive, like so many of the tragic cases before him. The case was a straight forward operation and Arizona was leaning over the bed, post-op, checking the ancient saturation monitor when the small voice piped up from beneath her.
Leaning back to look at her small patient, Arizona smiled. Often in the cases of neglected or abandoned children, they were quiet and reserved, only responding to direct interaction. This child, Mbizi, obviously had some sort of tenacious character.
“He says your hair is the colour of the sun in the sky.”
Arizona glanced at Mary before looking back at Mbizi and smiling. Picking up the small dark hand, she squat down to the child’s level.
“Do you like it?”
The boy turned to Mary as she translated before whipping back to Arizona in understanding. Arizona laughed at the Mbizi’s excited tones of speech, his head nodding furiously.
“I think even I understand that!”
Mbizi’s eyes drifted over Arizona’s face as he spoke again, more calmly now.
“He say that his mother is gone now.”
Arizona nodded slowly, not giving away any emotion.
“He would like it very much if you are his mother now.”
The thin, strong arm reached up to touch Arizona’s hair as it framed her face and she smiled. She nodded.
“For a little while.”
Two weeks later and it had all gone horribly wrong. Mbizi’s HIV had converted into AIDS and he was deteriorating fast with an hospital-acquired chest infection. Arizona had the feeling…she always got a feeling.
This time it felt personal. Away in a foreign country, there was only so much one person could do. It had been a simple appendicitis and now this child who had been such a character - a ray of joy for Arizona - was dying. This was the kind of case that would give her nightmares for weeks. It felt like the biggest fucking failure cosmic kick-in-the-pants joke there was that here she was alone without her girlfriend. Without Calliope.
The wheezy little chest she was holding was starting to speed up. It was 7am, the day hadn’t even started yet, and here she was with her ‘son’ who was about to die. Mbizi’s immune system was nowhere near effective enough to fight off this infection and the drug therapy hadn’t worked. The option to withdraw treatment was an all too easy decision for a HIV case when hospital resources were needed elsewhere.
Arizona rocked him gently as he endlessly attempted to catch his breath. She hushed him as he spoke softly, gazing up at her.
“He is glad you were his mother for this little time.”
Arizona’s eyes welled even as she smiled down at the sick child.
“So am I, Mbizi.”
The child died before the breakfast could reach the tables. Arizona felt like screaming. It was all too much. Mbizi had died in her arms, and the whole time all she could think was of Callie’s and her child. What if he had been their child? Arizona had come to the conclusion that any child of Callie’s that didn’t also call her, Arizona, their mother was abhorrently intolerable. She couldn’t stand it. Arizona was going to love any child of Calliope Torres whether it belonged to her or not. And holding the sick child in her arms, in the inappropriateness - she knew - of the moment, Arizona had come to a realization.
She was sick in the head.
She couldn’t see the wood for the Calliope.
She was all she could think about.
And she was sick of being the bad guy. The abandoner.
M had loved her unconditionally as his new mother. He had needed her.
She had needed her.
And Arizona felt the burning desire to make her need her again. To have that feeling again, propping her up like a million bucks, better than all the Carter-Avery-Madisons in the world.
Arizona wanted to be in Africa, doing this job. This was where she was meant to be, but the whole thing was going awry. It was suffocating and choking her each minute, turning her mad and sucking her lonely, broken heart dry.
So Arizona had made a decision.
Two weeks later she was on a twenty hour return flight to America, her old job waiting for her. Twenty hours was a long time to think.
It was crazy. Arizona was instantly regretting her decision as much as she applauded herself for it. She felt like for the first time in her life, this was a decision she hadn’t quite thought through. It was out of control. What if Callie had moved on? It wasn’t fair for Arizona to turn up randomly and expect Callie simply to fall back into her arms. This was something she would have to play by ear. But still, Arizona couldn’t help hoping. Callie may have accidentally found out she was coming home and she would be waiting at the airport. Then when Arizona walked out of the arrivals they would spot each other at the same time and freeze before running up to each other, frantic in kisses, profuse apology and acclamations of love…
No.
Why was she doing this to herself? Arizona chastened her thoughts. If Arizona really loved Callie, then she was going to have to turn up and do the unthinkable; turn the decision over to Callie whether they could pick up again. No strings, no pressure.
And that approach had gone over so well today. So well.
The doctors’ lounge door opened again and Arizona turned her dazed face. Callie?
Teddy paused as she took in Arizona’s out-of-it look.
“Are you okay?”
Arizona’s eyes slowly focused on her friend, her open mouth switching to a painted, excessive smile as she snapped back to reality.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Suspecting, but letting the deflection slide, Teddy sat down across the table from Arizona, coffee in hand.
“Have you spoken to her yet?”
Arizona’s face flickered in dry mirth at the naïve irony of the question.
“Yes.”
“And…?”
“It could have gone better.”
“Jesus, Arizona, what did you say to her?”
Arizona looked up at her friend, sadly.
“You don’t want to know.”
Teddy sighed and rolled her fingers against the side of her cup of coffee.
“You two are the most idiotic people I know.”
“I know.”
“You need to speak to her again, properly this time.”
“I know.”
“Mark is on call tonight.”
Arizona narrowed her eyes. Teddy continued.
“You need to go see her tonight.”
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Arizona didn’t know why the fuck she was here, standing outside Mark’s apartment on Teddy’s orders. Especially when Arizona was probably the last person Callie wanted to see after today. In fact, she knew for certain Callie didn’t want to see her.
The door to their old apartment was behind her and she could feel it laughing at her, taunting her, that this was the state their love had been reduced to.
Taking a deep breath, and before she lost her nerve, Arizona knocked.
She knocked three times, before taking a small step backwards, heart pounding furiously. She couldn’t hear anything from within the apartment and nothing happened. Maybe Callie was out. Or maybe in the bathroom. Maybe, most probably, Callie didn’t, like she had expected, want to see her. Arizona sighed.
Lowering her head she turned to leave. Then stopped.
The door-handle had turned.
Author: Chwitchety
Rating: M
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: I dont own it or profit from it, I just love it.
Summary: Arizona cant believe what just happened. Why are they even in this situation?
A/N: So here is AZ POV. I really hope it flows and makes sense and I am specifically writing to all you team AZs out there (yes you Funkyshaz). So if I have messed it, let me know. Also I really want to try finish this before Thursday night, cos I know Thursday will be a game changer. So I'm trying.
A/N2: Also if you are looking for goodfic, try fictitiouschick on livejournal/fanfiction.net and googooplex100 on fanfiction.net. Seriously.
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~ If you forget me ~
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
~ Pablo Neruda ~
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Arizona sat stunned in her chair.
She couldn’t believe what she had just said.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
This was not how she had envisaged things going.
This was not the tearful, forgiving reunion she had optimistically and unrealistically planned for. Everything had gone to -
“Fuck.”
She tore her eyes away from the door that Callie had just left through, to stare at the chair she had been so recently sitting in. She placed her hand over the padded seat. It was still warm.
Her hand tingled.
Worst of all - worst of all - Callie had confirmed all of her fears that she was sleeping with Mark. Arizona had suspected, but hoped fervently to be told otherwise. Her heart had sunk to bottomless depths when Callie’s eyes had glinted at her gamble, somber retort at her lips. She had felt utterly nauseous at the thought of them, at her triumph at succeeding in getting a rise from her ex, and at the bleak affect Callie displayed throughout the exchange. When Teddy had informed her that Callie had moved in with Mark, Arizona had desperately fought the idea that Callie would take the extra step. She had been down that road so many times before; after George, after Erica.
After Arizona, now.
Wincing slightly, Arizona withdrew her hand from the chair and placed it gently against her cheek.
Arizona could see that Callie knew that ‘Mark’ was not moving on. Sleeping with Mark, though it might have been familiar, was ridiculously immature and self-indulgent. Frankly, it was outright self-destructive and obvious. And yet, Arizona felt the small flame of hope inside her flicker mutinously. Even though her brain was interpreting Callie’s behaviour logically, her heart could not.
This was it. She had turned Callie straight.
Callie was back on men, now. There was no fucking way that Arizona would ever be able to get close to her again. Callie would finally leave or kill Mark, the only two real options in their current situation, and would find some hunky footballer. Footballers were always breaking their legs. And they’d end up married and then they’d be pregnant within the year and have the kids that Arizona had wanted to have with Callie. His name would be Mike, probably, and they’d have three gorgeous children that all had Callie’s big brown eyes and infectious grin and Arizona would never…
Stop.
Dropping her hand from her face, Arizona pushed down the accumulating thoughts. She was smarter than this.
She had to think smart.
Focused.
Callie’s dismal, somber aura had been in stark contrast to her small oasis of beauty in the grey room. The shorter hair suited her, her caramel skin looked softer than Arizona could remember - and her lips. Callie’s lips, so lush and pliant, had fallen into their familiar moue as Arizona had spoken to her and had made it that much more difficult to concentrate. Her pain and hurt had shone through, nevertheless. Callie’s lack of any real fight and how easily she had driven her away worried Arizona. Teddy had tried to indirectly inform her of Callie’s psyche, but Arizona had avoided her at the time.
Now she could see.
Callie was fading.
And Arizona was worried.
Arizona was someone who, when faced with a situation, would find a way to fix it. This was not a situation easily fixed. Her whole life she had learnt how to be in control; through her navy brat upbringing, through her medical training, through dealing with dying children day in, day out. Callie was a wild card. Callie made her out of control, which was both dangerous and enthralling at the same time. And now Callie was floundering and it broke Arizona’s heart that little bit more.
In any case, the one thing that was obvious from the entire encounter, and kept Arizona’s hope alight, was that Callie was not over her at all. Not one bit. The fire and passion had been dulled by her initial calm and abject demeanour, but Arizona had seen it, sensed it. Even as the parting shot had left her lips, Arizona had felt their ever-present connection reawaken in her soul with muted roar.
The same connection she had felt every minute of every day for the three full months she had been in Malawi.
Going to Africa had not been a choice for Arizona. The call had come and she had been ecstatic, right up until the subdued reaction from Callie. She had been congratulatory, but all too quick to look at Arizona in that way that she had that implied Arizona was some kind of insensitive imbecile and say “You’re not going though, right?”
And ever so thusly, the bubble burst and she had suddenly realized where the conversation was taking a turn to, defenses riled.
“Callie, I have to go.”
Callie had fretted and fought and fawned over her in equal measures as Arizona’s decision remained solid. A disbelieving anger grew steadily within her as the, “but me, me, me,” chorus rallied as the days till her departure counted down. This was the Carter-Madison Grant, for Pete’s sake. It was meant to be the pinnacle of her career, the unlimited funds opportunity of a life-time to actually make a difference. Tiny coffins haunted her sleep occasionally, but always they belonged to the children who had very little choice, who were barely given a chance at life before they left it. These children in Africa were dying from diarrhoea. Diarrhoea. Let alone a simple case of appendicitis.
Arizona wasn’t trying to make a missionary, Oprah statement. This was quite simply Arizona’s dream. Whether it was in Africa or Timbuktu, Arizona wanted to give an opportunity to those in life who could easily be saved. Somewhere where she could really make the most of her hard learned knowledge.
And Callie couldn’t see that. She only saw herself. Better yet, she had decided to accuse Arizona of not admitting that she was backing out of her promise to have a family with her. The sheer audacity of the statement had stung Arizona and she had given Callie a disparaging look before locking herself in the bathroom to take a shower.
“Callie, that’s ridiculous and you know it.”
Arizona did want children with Callie. It wasn’t even something that she had to ‘come round to’ anymore. It was a simple fact for the future. She refused to admit the tiny ounce of relief she felt that the grant was for three years, which helped to cement her resolve to go. She wanted kids - she did, just not now. Callie had half given her a heart attack the way she flit about Arizona when all she wanted to for Arizona to move in. The way Callie loved, Arizona was all but ready for her to start flitting around about the next ‘big step’.
When Callie had turned around and agreed to go with her, Arizona could not have been happier. The small tug of doubt she felt at the resolution had developed into full-blown apprehension as Callie’s barbed comments ripped at her heart and systematically defused her joy. The anger she felt at Callie’s actions had slowly subsided into a rippling sadness. As the dates came closer, Arizona began to realize that, nope, Callie was never going to Africa, nor - whether intentionally or not - had she ever intended to. It had hit her fully when Mark and Lexie had thrown the pathetically sweet going away party and her girlfriend had been so determinedly unpleasant. Arizona had left quickly under guise of a likely excuse before her emotion got the best of her. She had found her way into an empty on-call room to cry for a good ten minutes before heading home, heavy with the knowledge that she had a decision to make.
If Callie came with her, Callie would destroy them.
If she left Callie, Callie would be destroyed.
If Arizona stayed because of Callie, well, that wasn’t an option either.
It was hardly healthy the way Callie was so passive-aggressively needy of her. Arizona wanted to be in a relationship were each party buoyed the other up, not dragged the other down.
It had been the hardest thing she had to do, walking away from Callie, but Arizona knew in her heart of hearts that this was the only option she had. The devastation she knew she had left behind broke her heart completely, but sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind and Arizona was giving the gift of anger to Callie. Anger that could help bring her back out of the hollow of desertion. If she were to be understanding or kind, Callie would cling and pine after her in hope. No, Arizona’s job was to walk the fine line between the potentially destroying ‘mean’ and the resentment-inducing ‘harsh’, and give Callie the gift of anger. The gift of a clean break.
The phone calls and messages, emails and contact attempts had been an excruciating burden for Arizona. Callie had been pleading, angry and outright sobbing when she listened to her voice mail. Whenever her mobile rang with the familiar tone, her heart would stop slightly every time, thinking of what Callie might be doing, where she was.
She couldn’t answer though. Arizona knew Callie too well. The slightest indication that Arizona was open to contacting her, speaking with her, would start the cogwheels in Callie’s brain and reopen fresh wounds. Callie’s undaunted love would pine after her with the slightest encouragement for three entire years until Arizona returned and they would find each other again, by then two different people, holding no small resentment from either side at what each put the other through.
So Arizona didn’t answer. And it broke her heart a million times a day.
She threw herself into the work, and plenty there was of it too. The surgical ward alone held up to 60 children. Infection was rife and Arizona was pleased that at by the end of one month she had managed to install satisfactory health and hygiene regulations upon the wards.
She had wanted to tell Callie.
There was a difficulty with language barriers, but while Arizona had started to pick up key words, the hospital had supplied her with a translator. Friendly and enthusiastic, Mary had been invaluable to Arizona’s work and had often become indispensable in her personal adjustment to the culture shock.
Arizona had been working for two months, when Mbizi arrived.
Five years old, Mbizi had recently become an orphan after his only surviving parent, his mother, had died with AIDS. Admitted to the surgical ward with a simple appendicitis, Arizona was not surprised to find Mbizi to be HIV positive, like so many of the tragic cases before him. The case was a straight forward operation and Arizona was leaning over the bed, post-op, checking the ancient saturation monitor when the small voice piped up from beneath her.
Leaning back to look at her small patient, Arizona smiled. Often in the cases of neglected or abandoned children, they were quiet and reserved, only responding to direct interaction. This child, Mbizi, obviously had some sort of tenacious character.
“He says your hair is the colour of the sun in the sky.”
Arizona glanced at Mary before looking back at Mbizi and smiling. Picking up the small dark hand, she squat down to the child’s level.
“Do you like it?”
The boy turned to Mary as she translated before whipping back to Arizona in understanding. Arizona laughed at the Mbizi’s excited tones of speech, his head nodding furiously.
“I think even I understand that!”
Mbizi’s eyes drifted over Arizona’s face as he spoke again, more calmly now.
“He say that his mother is gone now.”
Arizona nodded slowly, not giving away any emotion.
“He would like it very much if you are his mother now.”
The thin, strong arm reached up to touch Arizona’s hair as it framed her face and she smiled. She nodded.
“For a little while.”
Two weeks later and it had all gone horribly wrong. Mbizi’s HIV had converted into AIDS and he was deteriorating fast with an hospital-acquired chest infection. Arizona had the feeling…she always got a feeling.
This time it felt personal. Away in a foreign country, there was only so much one person could do. It had been a simple appendicitis and now this child who had been such a character - a ray of joy for Arizona - was dying. This was the kind of case that would give her nightmares for weeks. It felt like the biggest fucking failure cosmic kick-in-the-pants joke there was that here she was alone without her girlfriend. Without Calliope.
The wheezy little chest she was holding was starting to speed up. It was 7am, the day hadn’t even started yet, and here she was with her ‘son’ who was about to die. Mbizi’s immune system was nowhere near effective enough to fight off this infection and the drug therapy hadn’t worked. The option to withdraw treatment was an all too easy decision for a HIV case when hospital resources were needed elsewhere.
Arizona rocked him gently as he endlessly attempted to catch his breath. She hushed him as he spoke softly, gazing up at her.
“He is glad you were his mother for this little time.”
Arizona’s eyes welled even as she smiled down at the sick child.
“So am I, Mbizi.”
The child died before the breakfast could reach the tables. Arizona felt like screaming. It was all too much. Mbizi had died in her arms, and the whole time all she could think was of Callie’s and her child. What if he had been their child? Arizona had come to the conclusion that any child of Callie’s that didn’t also call her, Arizona, their mother was abhorrently intolerable. She couldn’t stand it. Arizona was going to love any child of Calliope Torres whether it belonged to her or not. And holding the sick child in her arms, in the inappropriateness - she knew - of the moment, Arizona had come to a realization.
She was sick in the head.
She couldn’t see the wood for the Calliope.
She was all she could think about.
And she was sick of being the bad guy. The abandoner.
M had loved her unconditionally as his new mother. He had needed her.
She had needed her.
And Arizona felt the burning desire to make her need her again. To have that feeling again, propping her up like a million bucks, better than all the Carter-Avery-Madisons in the world.
Arizona wanted to be in Africa, doing this job. This was where she was meant to be, but the whole thing was going awry. It was suffocating and choking her each minute, turning her mad and sucking her lonely, broken heart dry.
So Arizona had made a decision.
Two weeks later she was on a twenty hour return flight to America, her old job waiting for her. Twenty hours was a long time to think.
It was crazy. Arizona was instantly regretting her decision as much as she applauded herself for it. She felt like for the first time in her life, this was a decision she hadn’t quite thought through. It was out of control. What if Callie had moved on? It wasn’t fair for Arizona to turn up randomly and expect Callie simply to fall back into her arms. This was something she would have to play by ear. But still, Arizona couldn’t help hoping. Callie may have accidentally found out she was coming home and she would be waiting at the airport. Then when Arizona walked out of the arrivals they would spot each other at the same time and freeze before running up to each other, frantic in kisses, profuse apology and acclamations of love…
No.
Why was she doing this to herself? Arizona chastened her thoughts. If Arizona really loved Callie, then she was going to have to turn up and do the unthinkable; turn the decision over to Callie whether they could pick up again. No strings, no pressure.
And that approach had gone over so well today. So well.
The doctors’ lounge door opened again and Arizona turned her dazed face. Callie?
Teddy paused as she took in Arizona’s out-of-it look.
“Are you okay?”
Arizona’s eyes slowly focused on her friend, her open mouth switching to a painted, excessive smile as she snapped back to reality.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Suspecting, but letting the deflection slide, Teddy sat down across the table from Arizona, coffee in hand.
“Have you spoken to her yet?”
Arizona’s face flickered in dry mirth at the naïve irony of the question.
“Yes.”
“And…?”
“It could have gone better.”
“Jesus, Arizona, what did you say to her?”
Arizona looked up at her friend, sadly.
“You don’t want to know.”
Teddy sighed and rolled her fingers against the side of her cup of coffee.
“You two are the most idiotic people I know.”
“I know.”
“You need to speak to her again, properly this time.”
“I know.”
“Mark is on call tonight.”
Arizona narrowed her eyes. Teddy continued.
“You need to go see her tonight.”
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Arizona didn’t know why the fuck she was here, standing outside Mark’s apartment on Teddy’s orders. Especially when Arizona was probably the last person Callie wanted to see after today. In fact, she knew for certain Callie didn’t want to see her.
The door to their old apartment was behind her and she could feel it laughing at her, taunting her, that this was the state their love had been reduced to.
Taking a deep breath, and before she lost her nerve, Arizona knocked.
She knocked three times, before taking a small step backwards, heart pounding furiously. She couldn’t hear anything from within the apartment and nothing happened. Maybe Callie was out. Or maybe in the bathroom. Maybe, most probably, Callie didn’t, like she had expected, want to see her. Arizona sighed.
Lowering her head she turned to leave. Then stopped.
The door-handle had turned.