[fic] what if this storm ends? [6/?]
Title: What if This Storm Ends?
Rating: T/M
Disclaimer: Neither the show, nor the title song are mine.
Spoilers: 9x23-24
Summary: What if this storm ends and I don't see you as you are now, ever again? Arizona and Callie try to pick up the pieces in the aftermath of the superstorm and Arizona's PTSD. *NOT a cheating fic*
Note: Just a warning, there's a little bit of violence here. Heads up!
*****
Callie Torres was used to yelling and crying waking her up, being the mother of a two year old who had previously been sleeping through the night. Until her mother had stopped sleeping at home and was only seeing her at daycare a few times a day. Now Sofia Robbin Sloan Torres refused to sleep more than four hours in a stretch, hoping each time that Arizona would be the one to come into her room when she cried. She had been disappointed every time.
Tonight though, it wasn't Sofia crying that woke her up. The screams that woke her up were raw, hoarse, utterly terrifying. They made her blood run cold, Callie sitting bolt upright in her bed. One hand reached unconsciously for the empty half of the space where Arizona was supposed to be.
Arizona. The realization of where the screams were coming from made her heart stop. They were the only residents on this half of the fifth floor. And the concrete floor muffled their upper and lower neighbors. The only thing between her and these primal screams were two panels of wood. Two blue doors.
Shoving and kicking the sheets off of her legs Callie bolted from the bed as quickly as she was able, stumbling through the living room as she pulled a robe over her shoulders. Mark's door was locked and she had to scramble back to her apartment for the spare key. The screaming from the other side made her tremble. It hardly sounded like a human throat making the noises. The fact that it was her wife making those screams chilled her heart.
Her hands were shaking as she forced the key into the lock, barely able to turn it. Arizona was on the other side of this door screaming like - like her plane was going down, like her leg was being ripped from her body...
Callie went through the door with her shoulder down, a hit a linebacker would have been proud of. Arizona was on the couch and her entrance wasn't exactly quiet but the blonde didn't react to her at all. She wasn't aware of anything outside of her own mind. Her body was arching off the cushions, her one foot planted against the far armrest. Every muscle was tensed and taut. And Arizona had nearly lost her voice from screaming.
“Arizona!” Callie yelled it, hoping her volume would wake her up. It didn't work. Arizona just thrashed on the sofa, locked in her own mind. Moving forward, Callie thought nothing of reaching for her wife's shoulder. Until the blinding flash of pain that followed Arizona's knuckles striking her temple. She stumbled backwards, gasping in surprised shock. Arizona's eyes were open now though, the blonde rolling to the floor and landing hard on her front, scrambling forward on her hands and knee. Her stump hit the bare wood floor and an animalistic groan of pain ripped itself from her throat. Primal survival instinct kept her moving toward what her unconscious mind perceived as a threat, her good foot pushing her forward in a lunge.
She crashed into Callie and they went down hard. Callie lost her breath as they struck the solid floor, both of Arizona's hands gripping her shirt tight. “Arizona, it's me!” Her wife wasn't hearing her though. Struggling, she fought her way up, her hands groping for Callie in an instinctive reaction for self-preservation.
Her eyes were open but unseeing. Arizona was still in the woods.
Pushing both hands up into her chest, Callie tried to dislodge her. An elbow kept one hand from her neck and Callie brought her knee up quickly. Arizona arched as it hit her, her breath escaping in a violent huff. The loosened grip helped her throw the other woman off of her, scrambling backward on her elbows to put space between them while Arizona sprawled at the base of the couch breathing hard. Callie didn’t stop moving until the kitchen island was against her back. She pulled on the leg of a chair until it crashed in front of her. It was a tangible barrier between them.
Arizona didn't follow her again, just laid on her side wheezing while her mind tried to find reality. Curling in on herself, Arizona struggled back to consciousness. The noisy breathing became quiet sobs as she pieced events back together, her blue eyes tortured as she found Callie on the floor across the room. “I'm sorry!” she gasped, the words barely escaping her raw throat. Her ribs hurt when she breathed so the ragged tears sent a dull ache through her chest. It was nothing compared to her heart tearing apart in her chest. The look on Callie's face... And there was already a bruise rising beside her right eye, red scratches on her neck, the top of her chest. When she started to crawl forward, needing to check them herself, Callie tried to move back from her. She couldn't go anywhere, was already pressed tight to the half-wall behind her, but Arizona stopped moving instantly. Her wife was scared of her. It was everything she'd wanted to avoid when she'd moved across the hall. “I'm so sorry,” she said again, forcing the words out in her hoarse voice. “Callie, I am so sorry! Tell me you're okay, please,” she pleaded, both hands covering her mouth as tears fled down her face. “Please...”
Callie was crying herself, her heart still pounding in her chest. She could hear the blood rushing through her head, feel the incoming headache growing at her temples. But she nodded, rubbing her neck with one hand.
“Callie, I-I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry,” Arizona stammered, sure that nothing she could say would ever erase the memory of Callie's face when she'd first woken up. Her wife had been utterly terrified of her. She felt sick to her stomach. “Please, please, please...”
Callie made the next move, pushing herself up slowly until she was on her feet. Her hands hung onto the edge of the counter top so tightly that her knuckles were white. Her head hurt but she was okay, except for being short of breath. Arizona hadn't taken her eyes off of her, panting for breath herself on the floor. “I'm okay,” Callie promised, clearing her throat to speak above a whisper. “I'm okay. Do you want to see?” Arizona nodded almost desperately, both hands reaching behind her for the couch, her arms shaking as she pulled herself up into the seat.
She was shaking and pale, sweat shining on her skin in the light from the hallway. Two beads chased each other down her chest toward the neck of her gray tank top. The light fabric was dark with perspiration in spots and sticking to her stomach. She still looked terrified.
And Callie wanted to go to her, wanted to sit beside her and take her hands and show her that there was no permanent damage done. Except that she couldn't force her knees to carry her weight, couldn't take the first step toward crossing the room to her partner.
“Callie -”
“Hang on,” she interrupted, her voice gravely. She cleared her throat again.
“I'm so sorry,” Arizona repeated herself. “I'm - I was, it was - it was the woods. I'm sorry,” she said, her voice steadying as she grew more alert. She wasn't relaxing into the cushions, rigidly leaning forward with her elbows on her thighs. She didn't reach out though, kept her hands down in a conscious attempt not to make any threatening gestures.
Coming back home after the crash, she hadn't actually had many night terrors, though she knew Meredith and Cristina had both had some. She'd been more afraid of the misty daylight for each of those four days. In the light she could see her leg. Could see how pale Mark was getting. In the dark she didn't have to watch him fade away from her, just had to stroke his hair and talk about their girls. In the dark she didn't have to see the bugs crawling around in her bleeding, broken leg. She didn't have to watch the infection spread past the point of no return.
But she'd talked to Leanne about the woods today in her session - the first time she'd even tried. It had taken her a week of daily appointments to make the attempt. And it had been terrifying, and stressful, and she'd gotten angry and upset. Not wanting to put those emotions around Sofia, she'd come back to the apartment instead of going to the daycare for a dance party. Dr. Connor had given her some relaxation techniques and she'd practiced them before settling in with a case file and a disgusting bowl of microwavable Easy-Mac.
Evidently she hadn't been exactly fully relaxed when she'd laid down. And if she'd hurt Callie she wasn't sure how she'd ever sleep again.
“It was the woods,” she said again softly. “I'm here now. I would never hurt you,” promised Arizona. “Please believe me, Callie. I'll never hurt you.”
Callie nodded, the strength returning slowly to her legs. PTSD was an animal, a sick puppet master that was currently pulling Arizona’s strings. She knew her wife wouldn't hurt her. The Arizona sitting across from her wasn't exactly the wife she was used to though. “I guess I can see why you moved out now,” Callie said, laughing hoarsely. It wasn't funny and Arizona didn't crack a smile.
“I'm sorry,” Arizona said again. “Do you want me to say I told you so?”
“Yeah, don't,” grumbled Callie, her head swinging from side to side. “Better me than...” She rubbed her neck again.
Arizona swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah,” she agreed, dropping her gaze to the floor.
“We can't keep going like this, Arizona,” Callie said tiredly, picking up the chair and twisting the bar stool around to face the couch before hauling herself into it. She met her wife's eyes, could see her fear in her face.
“Like what?” Arizona asked, trying to stay steady. She couldn't blame Callie for anything she said next though. She'd brought them to this moment.
Callie sighed and slumped forward. “I'm miserable without you. Sofia's sleep schedule has gone completely to hell. We need you at home.”
“No,” Arizona denied her immediately. “Callie, I just - you saw what I just did to you! I can not be around you and Sofia and be like this!”
“We were together for months after you got home - you slept beside me every night and nothing ever happened,” Callie reminded her, trying to stay patient. “And honestly, I'm not sure I can... be close right now.” Arizona winced but didn't protest. “But this isn't good, living like this.”
Neither one spoke for a long minute, Arizona slowly becoming aware on the hum of falling rain outside. It wasn't storming, just a straight downpour. It would be a green morning when the sun finally rose. If it ever came out from behind the clouds. “So what do you want me to do?” Arizona requested, one hand rubbing the other between fingers and thumb. “I'll do anything you say. I'll get more sessions with Dr. Connors, I'll do less surgery, I'll talk to Child Services about supervised visits with Sofia -”
“Stop it,” Callie growled, glaring across the room at her. “We're not getting a social worker involved. You want supervision? I'm your supervision. If you can't handle it, I won't leave you alone with her,” she said. Her expression softened hopefully. “It's not like spending time with my wife and my daughter is the worst thing anyone could ever ask me to do,” she reminded her. “And Sofia misses you. She's breaking my heart.”
Arizona swallowed again. Her throat was dry and sore. And the sweat was starting to dry on her skin, leaving her feeling sticky and cold. The rain outside was a constant buzzing in her ears. “I don't know...”
“You can sleep in Sofia's room,” Callie suggested. “We'll move her into our room and you can sleep in there. But we'd be together. You can make breakfast and we'll match up our schedules and come home together at night and watch the news and we'll give our daughter a bath and tell her a story.” Arizona still looked unsure, her head shaking as if she was trying to dislodge something. “Think about it at least,” pleaded Callie, keeping her tone soft.
Licking her lips, Arizona winced at her sore throat. “I think... Sorry, could you get me a water? There should be a bottle in the fridge.” Callie slid off her stool and rounded the island to the refrigerator, making a decision and filling a glass of water from the door rather than getting a bottle from inside. A bottle she could toss to Arizona from across the room. A glass she would have to carry to her.
Arizona didn't speak as Callie brought the cup to the couch, drawing her good leg up and shrinking back against the armrest as Callie took a seat on the far cushion. “Is this okay?”
She rubbed both hands down the lengths of either leg, sighing at the shorter distance her left hand had to travel. “If you're okay,” Arizona said. Without her prosthetic she had no way to get off the couch and away from Callie if the proximity was too much for her. If she had to, she'd roll. She would do anything to keep from seeing the fear, fear she'd put there, in Callie's face again.
“I'm okay,” Callie said, nodding and biting her bottom lip. “You were saying...”
Arizona took a sip of her water, gratefully chugging half the glass as her thirst asserted itself. Her throat burned when she swallowed. “I was saying...” She breathed deep and it made her chest ache. Both pains she welcomed as punishment she deserved. She'd put her hands on her wife. Her heart started to pound again at the thought of what she could have done.
Callie watched her closely, reaching over to touch her arm when she sensed that her partner was slipping away again. Arizona jumped. “Hey,” prompted Callie softly. “Look at me. I'm right here and I'm okay. Okay?” Arizona's eyes found her and one hand reached up slowly. She tried not to take it personally when Callie flinched back. “Sorry,” she whispered, not moving her face this time when Arizona touched her jaw.
Arizona shook her head as she turned Callie's face into the light with gentle fingers, leaning forward to check her temple. “You don't apologize to me,” she said, voice roughed by emotion. She'd put a bruise on her wife's face. She never wanted to be this person. Anyone else who touched Callie like she'd touched Callie tonight, she would tear them apart.
“Stop it,” whispered Callie again. “Don't blame yourself...”
“Why shouldn't I?” Arizona snapped. “I did it! I did this to you, Callie! I can’t come home while I'm like this! No. There's no way.”
“This is not you! This is - you are sick, Arizona! You are my wife and you are sick! But you're getting help and you're going to get better,” Callie argued stubbornly.
Blonde hair fell in her face when Arizona shook her head in denial. “This can't happen again. I can't put you at risk like that. I need a locked door between us.”
“There was a locked door between us tonight,” Callie reminded her.
“Well, maybe you shouldn't have come through it!” Arizona snapped again, closing her eyes when Callie recoiled from her.
Her face steadied into a determined expression though. “I'm always going to come through the door if you're on the other side of it,” Callie said firmly. “I missed things, Arizona. Before. And I pushed you to be better, and I know you wanted to be, for me and Sofia. But I'm not - that's not happening this time. I need you to really be okay. Whenever you can get there.”
“I'm not there,” Arizona interjected. “I hurt you -”
“I'm not - I'm okay!” protested Callie, shaking her head. “That's not what I'm saying. I want us to do this the right way. I was distracted before.” She looked guilty, her eyes falling to her lap. “You just, it seemed like you were doing better and I let myself get so worried about Derek, and -”
“You care about people,” Arizona said softly. “It's a good thing. You have a huge heart.” It was one of the many things she loved about Callie, her amazing capacity for loving the people around her.
“But there's no one in the world that I care about more than I care about you,” Callie stated, head shaking again. “And you were suffering and I should have seen it.” She sighed. “I'm sorry.”
Arizona's brows furrowed. “No,” she objected. “No, Callie.”
“It's not your fault we're like this,” Callie said sadly. Arizona scoffed loudly, the sound sharp and bitter. “Okay, but it's not your fault that you're sick,” Callie amended herself. “Your plane crashed and... everything.” She couldn't bring herself to elaborate on everything else that had tumbled down around them as a result of that first domino tipping over. “It's not your fault.”
“It's not yours either,” Arizona said, her tone soft again, and she leaned forward.
Sighing, Callie looked across the couch at her. “I didn't help things though. And I'm so sorry, Arizona. I love you. And I'm going to do a better job of it. Whatever you need, however long it takes, anything.” She licked her lips and drew in a deep breath. “But I cannot agree to stay away from you if you're in pain. If you're hurting I need to be there. I can't survive without you, Arizona. I think we can figure out a way to do this from home. You don't need to stay here...”
Callie meant everything she was saying, it was clear on her face. But Arizona could still see the fear that had been in her expression as she'd cowered on the floor. She couldn't ever see it there again. Her eyes fell closed. “I can't come home yet,” she said, regulating her tone and trying to do a breathing exercise - in through her nose and out through her mouth. “I can't do that to you. And you shouldn't want me anywhere near Sofia like this.” She opened her eyes and the terror, the stark, paralyzing fear that she would do anything to hurt her baby was naked in her gaze. “If it had been her tonight you would never forgive me. And I wouldn't want you to because I would never forgive myself.”
Callie sighed, not sure what to do or say. All she knew was that if her wife was screaming like she had been, she was going to go to her. And she'd probably touch her again, even if it got her punched for her trouble. So she said exactly that. Arizona sighed too, unable to argue because she would do the exact same thing if their situations were reversed. And she would probably insist that they be under the same roof while they dealt with it too. The words to express herself weren't coming though, the buzzing in her ears was driving her to distraction. Arizona rubbed her eyes tiredly. “How's your head?” Callie asked considerately, her voice soft.
Arizona shook her head, knuckles rolling across her temples. “I'm not feeling crazy if that's what you mean.”
“No, I mean the rain.” Arizona's head turned to look at her. Callie looked concerned but nervous. “I think it messes with you, or triggers you, or something.” Blue eyes blinked, surprised. “I mean, I don't know, I just noticed -”
Arizona was touched. Not that she'd expected Callie wouldn't make an effort to help her. It just, it was really sweet of her. “No, I, uh, I think you, I think it's possible you're right.” And it would be something to bring up with Leanne. They both were surprised when she laughed. “We might have to move,” she said with surprising levity.
“But we just bought a hospital here,” Callie teased, smiling down the couch at her. “I would move anywhere with you,” she said more seriously. “Anywhere, Arizona.”
“Well, I don't know if we need to move there,” said Arizona with a wink. “It could get irritating really quick.” Callie laughed, one hand finding Arizona's knee and squeezing. She wasn't sure if the contact was wanted but Arizona covered her hand before she could remove it, lacing their fingers. “I really miss you.” Callie blinked, eyebrows rising. “But I can't come home like this,” Arizona said more seriously, looking pleadingly at her wife.
Callie sighed but nodded. “I understand,” she said, turning her hand over to take Arizona's. A thumb made soft circles on the inside of her wrist. “I don't like it, but I understand.” Something had to change though. They couldn't just keep living in separate apartments across the hall from each other. Before everything had gone to hell they'd talked about moving somewhere, getting a house, maybe. It could end up being in Washington or anywhere else and she wouldn't care. As long as it was home for her, and Arizona, and Sofia. Leaving the apartment that had been the site of so many memories could be nice. And not living on the fifth floor would be good for Arizona.
Almost reading her mind, Arizona suggested tentatively, “What if we start looking for a new place? Somewhere bigger? Maybe fewer stairs?” She looked around the sparse, dark apartment she'd been sleeping in. “We need to move forward.”
Callie's soft smile was encouraging. “I think you're right. We can start looking if you want.”
Arizona looked hopeful when she suggested, “Maybe I could come over tomorrow night and we could look at some places on the computer.”
“Maybe get some dinner?” Callie added to the proposition, rubbing the back of Arizona's hand. “You could give Sofia her bath. She'd love that.” Arizona smiled, the dimples shallow on her cheeks but there. It made Callie's heart flip in her chest. Arizona's free hand reached up to stroke lightly over the scratches on her neck. “Hey,” she started to protest in a whisper.
“Shh,” Arizona hushed her, her eyes focused. “It doesn't hurt, does it?”
“No, it doesn't,” Callie promised. She still had a headache but it would fade, wasn't worth mentioning.
“I'm so sorry. I won't let it happen again,” said Arizona, her eyes finding Callie's. “Whatever it takes, this won't happen again.”
Breathing deep, Callie made a decision and opened her arms. “Come here,” she whispered, seeing the relief in Arizona's face as she crawled into her arms. Figuring out the positioning took a second, unused to being close like this. And that was strange enough for them. They'd always been a physical couple, affectionate and constantly touching. So the fact that Callie's arm around her waist, the top of her chest, felt foreign made her heart ache. She wanted this to be familiar again.
Since they'd first started dating Callie had been her safe place. Months of casual dating in Seattle and she hadn't felt anything like she'd felt the first time she'd seen Callie Torres in the hall. She'd heard of the Ortho surgeon, of course. Callie was a good doctor and her fellow staff members at Seattle-Grace liked and respected her. And the day she'd found out that Callie was not only stunningly gorgeous but into girls had felt like her Christmas. Arizona had always been confident with women, charming and cool. Kissing Callie in that bar bathroom wasn't a radical play for her. It had had more far-reaching effects than any move she'd ever made with a girl before. There weren't any other women like Calliope Torres though. And she'd known it the second Callie had confronted her in Joe's after she'd turned her down and told her exactly why she'd made a mistake in not going on a date with her.
They'd both made more mistakes since then. More fights and stupid misunderstandings - babies, the shooting, Africa, and Mark. Never once had she had a second of regret about coming back to Callie. Coming out of the woods was proving to be harder than anything she'd ever had to do. Coming back to Callie would be worth any effort. And she would do it because she wanted to be herself again. And since she'd held Callie against her shoulder after her father had abandoned her, she'd been in love with her. Loving Callie was as much a part of her as her own name.
A rising swell of emotion was irrepressible and she reached up for her wife's arm as the tears came. Callie just held her closer, pressing lips to her hair, rubbing her shoulder with one hand, and letting her cry.
[part 7 here]